#youre telling me she is the first person to ever resist being taken over by an akuma

[iinsertblognamee]

a baby? for me?

summary; you break the news to your daughter that you and alexia are having a baby pairing; alexia putellas x single mum!reader spanish | english translation

"Estás bien?" 'are you okay?'

Alexia's attention is taken away from the gym equipment in front of her and towards the resistance band that was thrown at her forehead, before turning towards the person who threw it.

Mapi's wearing a slight frown as she looks over her best friend. Looking down at her knee for a split second before back towards Alexia's face.

"Tu rodilla está bien?" 'Is your knee okay?' The midfielder can't help but nod her head suspiciously, her eyebrows frowning before asking "Sí? Por qué?" 'Yes? Why?'

"Has estado fuera de esto toda la mañana. Qué está sucediendo?" 'You've been out of it all morning. What's going on?' She moves closer to Alexia, making sure to lower her voice before continuing "Es yn? o maní?" 'Is it yn? or peanut?'

The two of you had found out you were finally pregnant after two attempts of IVF, besides yourself and Alexia knowing about the pregnancy, you had told Mapi and Ingrid as well as Jonatan. You both had agreed to keep it quiet until your first trimester was over, not wanting to create any panic from friends and family during this time.

However today you were adding one more person to the list. Mia, your daughter.

She was Alexia's daughter too, after everything Alexia had done for the two of you - everyone knew Alexia was Mia's second mum.

Mia was her daughter, for all intents and purposes.

Alexia met you and Mia three years ago, Mia crying in the middle of the supermarket as you tried to calm her down. Alexia discarded the two dips in her hand that she was debating on getting to send a small wave to the upset two-year-old. Mia took one look at the footballer before calming down.

Alexia had been smitten ever since.

Mia's father was never really in the picture, a sloppy one-night stand with a stranger was all it took for you to fall pregnant. You had attempted to get in contact with the biological father, but after meeting at a cafe to let him know of the situation you found yourself grateful he walked away. Mia and you didn't need him in your lives.

Alexia had no problem stepping up, she was coined 'My Lexi' by Mia within six months of meeting, and Alexia's heart beat that little bit faster every time she was blessed to hear her nickname.

Mia never called Alexia 'mum', but when you explained that Mia thought having a 'Lexi' was so much cooler than having a dad, Alexia didn't mind the name one bit.

She hoped that maybe one day, when Mia was comfortable she may find herself being Mia's mami, but she wanted it to happen authentically and on Mia's terms. So for now, she was Lexi.

"si, todo esta bien Mapi" 'yes, everything is fine, Mapi' Alexia started, leaning back into her stretches, flexing her leg a little further, "Yn is telling Mia today"

Mapi's eyes widen almost comically, her mouth falling open before stepping closer to her best friend. "sobre el" 'about the' she pauses, as she lowes her voice "Baby?!". Alexia nodded her head, rolling her neck as she felt a slight pop from her muscles.

"sin ti?" 'Without you?' Mapi questioned.

Alexia ran her hand over her face, nodding her head once more "si, yn and I talked and we agreed that it would be best for yn to break the news to Mia alone, and tonight the three of us can have a talk. In case Mia has any questions".

You and Alexia agreed Mia needed to hear this news from you, the pair of you had no idea how she would take the news. It had always just been the two of you, and then Alexia. You didn't have any siblings and Aleixa's sister didn't have any children of her own so for as long as Mia had been aware, she was the only baby of the family.

You had tried to tell Aleixa how excited Mia would be, you had caught her watching the children at the park and the longing in her eyes to have someone to play with but Aleixa was still super nervous. She didn't want Mia to feel like she was getting replaced or felt that Alexia would love the new baby more than her. Mia was and always would be Alexia's first baby.

The song connected to the speaker finishes, and the next one starts. Alexia takes this as her cue to stretch the other leg. Before Alexia could get in the next position her phone vibrated between the pair.

She takes a deep breath, before picking up the phone and seeing two new messages from you.

mi amor 💗 ignore my sniffles in the background

mi amor 💗 sent a video

Mapi seems to get Alexia's need for some distance, before giving her one quick hug and moving away from the anxious mother. Alexia takes one last look around the gym. noting it's completely empty before turning up the volume and pressing play.

The video starts with you setting the phone up and leaning it up against something as Mia gets comfy on your couch back at your shared apartment. The sound of one of Mia's shows in the background suddenly becomes mute as you pick up the TV remote.

"Mama!" Mia splatters out, as she looks between the TV and her mum. You reach your arms out, an indication you knew Mia would take as to come into your embrace - which she does.

Alexia can't help the small smile that appears on her lips as she watches her two girls embrace on the screen. You give Mia a small, delicate kiss on the crown of her head before pulling away enough to catch her attention, but still close enough that she was still in your embrace.

"I have a little something for you baby girl" You take this chance to pull out a small piece of paper from your pocket - Aleixa recognises it instantly as one of the ultrasound pictures the pair of you had picked up last week.

Mia takes the picture out of your grasp, her eyebrows frowning as she takes in the picture - ensure what exactly she was looking at.

"What is it, mama?" Mia lifted her gaze from the picture to her mum, before tilting her head and taking another glance at the piece of paper. "It looks funny" Mia can't help but giggle as she admits that. You let out a small giggle as well, running your hand through her hair "It does look kinda funny doesn't it huh" You agreed with her, Mia only letting out another laugh at her mother's confession.

"What is it, mama?" She asks once more, her curious nature taking over once again.

"It's a baby" You clarify slowly, your hand now dropped from Mia's hair and into your lap. Alexia felt her heart start to beat faster as she tried to catch every little moment happening on the screen in front of her - trying to catch a glimpse of what Mia was thinking at that moment.

It takes a second or two before your words seem to make sense to Mia, her eyes widening before looking down at the picture once more before towards you "Is it your baby?" her little voice pitched, somehow her eyes managing to widen even further.

You let out a small chuckle, nodding your head as some tears start to swell up in your eyes "Yeah baby, it is"

Mia looks towards her mother before her gaze drops to her stomach and back to her mother's face, "Is it in your belly? Like right now?" Alexia watches as Mia's hand drops the picture and places her little hand on your flat stomach.

You nod once more, your hand now covering your daughters, "It is, but it's very little right now so we can't see the difference quite yet".

Alexia knew exactly what you meant, she would check every morning before the two of you got out of bed and everything night before turning the lights off. She would run her hands over your stomach, planting kisses and mumbling promises to your unborn child. But besides the slightly firm change, that was the only indication there was a child growing in your womb as of now. That and the very picture sitting in Mia's lap.

Alexia watches as Mia's mouth forms into a slight O shape, before letting out a loud shriek and jumping up on the couch, bouncing and giggling.

"I'm going to be a big sister" She declares to the room, "Mama I'm a big sister!"

The first sniffle shifts Alexia's attention from Mia and onto you as you let a few tears fall down your face, but a massive smile plays on your lips. Alexia's face mirrors yours.

"What do you think about that sweetheart, is that okay?"

Mia throws herself into her mum's embrace, squeals leaving her lips "I'm so excited!-" Then before continuing, she suddenly pulls herself out of your embrace, her gaze falling to your stomach before placing herself right next to you on the couch, her hand back on your belly. "Sorry Mama, don't wanna hurt our baby"

Alexia thinks her heart stops at Mia's declaration. Our baby.

"You won't hurt them lovie, we just have to be a little more careful is all, and once they come they're going to be very small and fragile"

"That's okay mama, I'll look after her. Or Him. I don't care, mama. I don't. I'm so happy"

"That's very kind of you baby" You kiss her head, Mia's hand still flush against your stomach. "How come I can't see the baby yet Mama?"

The sight of your flat stomach was confusing Mia, she knew when people were having babies that had big stomachs, like her school teacher who had to leave because she was having a baby.

"Because the baby is still very small, but they'll continue to grow and as they get bigger and bigger you'll be able to see then".

Mia didn't seem too impressed by your answer, her eyes squinting to see if she could notice a difference towards your belly.

Just when Alexia thinks the video is going to end, Mia pipes up with another question.

"Who put the baby in there Mama?"

You and Alexia both freeze up at the same time, a nervous giggle leaving your lips as you try to quickly come up with something that would satisfy a five-year-old.

"Uh, Alexia and I did with the help of some doctors"

"Why?" Mia asks, looking from your stomach to your face.

"Uh. Well. Well, we wanted you to be a big sister. Is that okay?"

Your answer is enough for Mia, who throws her arms around your neck before giggling into your hair. Her response is muffled but from what Alexia can tell, you are grateful for her answer, your shoulders dropping in relief as you kiss the side of her head. "I'm glad you're so excited honey".

"Mama, when the baby comes, can I hold it?" If Mia's face wasn't so serious, you would have giggled a little at the question - Alexia watching the video doesn't stop the giggle from escaping her lips.

"Of course baby, you can hold them, and Alexia and I would love for you to help us out"

"I want to help Mama! I'll help you and Lexi"

"I know you will, you can help push the stroller and bathtime and maybe even a diaper or two" You joke at the end but Mia doesn't seem fussed, a smile growing as she nods her head along. "I'll help so much mama. I will"

"I know you will baby, you'll be the best helper" You assure her, before grabbing the phone from the spot you had placed it before. "I'm going to send this video to Aleixa, is there anything else you want to say to her?"

"Lexi! We having a baby, come home so we can celebrate" She quickly turns her attention from the screen to you, asking for your permission "Can we celebrate when Lexi comes home?" You giggle and nod your head in response, a squeal leaving Mia's lips. "Lexi Mama said yes! Hurry home so we can celebrate! I miss you"

You mumble something about getting the table clean for this celebration before turning your attention to the screen - your eyes filled with tears once more "I think we can call this one a success, we love you. come home soon"

The video cuts off, as you blow an air kiss towards the camera, Alexia letting the tears stream down her face, as the last few minutes replay in her head.

Mapi's head sticks into the gym a minute or two later, an uneasy look on her face as she takes in her crying best friend.

"¿Estás bien Ale?" 'are you okay ale?'

Alexia responds with some fast head nods, wiping her tears away.

"Amazing, Soy asombrosa" 'I'm amazing'

& bonus

Alexia walked through the front door and was met with an energetic five-year-old throwing herself into Alexia's arms. Squeals leave her lips as she bounces in her embrace.

"Mama! She's home. She's home!" Planting kisses all over her face, Alexia finally sets her down as you walk into the hallway, pulling you into a tight embrace, kissing you on the lips twice over before placing her hand across your stomach.

"How are you feeling mi amor" 'my love'

"Perfect"

Alexia hums into your lips, before pulling away once more "That's what I like to hear".

"Mama! Lexi! Hurry up"

Alexia and you meet each other's eye contact before giggling to each other, "She gets that from you, you know?" you comment, planting one last kiss on Alexia's lips before moving down the hallway and towards your daughter.

Alexia doesn't even try to argue, following you down the hallway, a smile permanent on her face.

Mia was ready at the table, Alexia's favourite meal was dished out, and some soft music playing in the background with some pink streamers across the walls that had been leftovers from Mia's last birthday party.

It was about halfway through the dinner, before Mia dropped her fork, looking between you and Alexia.

"Everything okay pequeño?" 'little one?' Alexia questions, her fork placed next to her plate as she reaches out for Mia's hand.

"Lexi, are you gonna be this baby's mami?"

Alexia swallows thickly, looking at you for some guidance between back towards Mia, nodding her head a little "Yeah, pequeño. Yeah, I am" 'little one'

"Can you be my Mami too?"

The simplicity of her questions makes Alexia's heart stop for a second, she shifts her gaze towards you once more, your face positively beaming, as a tear trails down your cheek. You give a slight nod before turning your attention towards your daughter.

"Uh. Do you." Alexia clears her throat a little, the tears swelling up once more "Do you want me to be your mami baby?"

Mia looks between the pair of you, before picking up her fork and taking another mouth full of her food. "I kinda thought you already were. I drew you in my family picture for school and you love me like how mama loves me"

"I do baby, I love you so much, you're my hija" 'daughter'

"Hiji" 'daughter' she tries to repeat, Alexia had been teaching her Spanish since your second date, claiming that no child of hers wouldn't know her mother language.

"It means daughter. because you are, always have been and always will be my little love"

"I love you mami"

"I love you hija"

"And I love you both" you add, your heart beaming.

[zaldritzosrose]

Surrender (Sihtric x Noble!Reader)

Summary: Your relationship with Sihtric was secret, except from those closest to you. And ever the gentleman, Sihtric was determined for you to remain pure. But somethings, or some people, are just too tempting to resist.

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, innuendo, dry humping, fingering, eventual sex, Sihtric being soft and a little subby (if you squint)

Words: 2,660

It had been quite the task to hide your relationship with Sihtric, being a lady-in-waiting to the Lady Aethelflaed. Courting a Dane would not go down well with the King, you knew that without any doubt. But it did not stop either of you, the sweet, shy smile Sihtric would always cast your way was far too hard to resist.

Though it had not taken your Lady long to notice, which should have spelled disaster. But she had been nothing but supportive. Even going as far to assure you no one would know other than her, and anyone Sihtric himself chose to tell. In terms of his friends, he had not needed tell them. Apparently, he had not been as subtle in his affections towards you as he thought. Finan had been the first to notice, not hesitating to tease Sihtric over the way he never seemed able to tear his eyes away from you any time they were at the royal castle. And it had only been a matter of time before Uhtred and Osferth knew as well – the Irishman being incapable of keeping it a secret for long.

Which brought some comfort, with how your lady and his friends would always find ways to bring the two of you together in secret.

And if there was one thing to be said about your Dane paramour, was that he was a gentleman, through and through. At least with you. No matter how much you tried to tease and tempt, Sihtric was stubborn and determined not to, in his words, ‘sully your virtue’. He would remind you time after time, that it was not proper of him to make a Christian such as yourself sin. Even when you tried to remind him that not every Saxon was a devout Christian. But he was dead set on that fact.

Until one day, you heard quite the interesting piece of information that you knew might help…persuade your lover.

“It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

You had heard those words uttered between two ladies, around your age, at the Winchester market and they had stuck with you. Sihtric was set to return to Winchester that evening and you kept the phrase turning in your mind as you awaited his return. You had returned to Winchester castle and completed your duties for your Lady, when word soon came of the return of Uhtred and his men. And Lady Aethelflaed being the staunchest support of your relationship, prepared for you to finish your duties and have an excuse to leave her company. You had nothing but thanks for her, she did not need to help you as she did, but you were forever grateful to her for it.

So, you waited, under a particular tree in some secluded gardens just outside the busy centre of the city. Secluded enough for a secret lover’s meeting. And you did not have to wait long for Sihtric to arrive, and he never failed to make your skin flush and your stomach flip with how he greeted you. Thick arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you into his embrace, burying his face into your neck. Like he was reminding himself you were real.

“Missed me?” you laughed, blushing as he peppered kisses over your cheeks before finally reaching your lips.

“What do you think, my lady?” he whispered, following his path of kisses back over your face again.

You could only giggle in response; he made you feel like you were the only person in his entire world when he held you like this. But those kisses were not enough for you. Not right now. He had been gone for a few weeks, almost a month, and that amount of time had not dulled your need for him.

Your hand found the back of his neck and kept him close as he set you back down onto the ground. Not hesitating to push your lips onto his in a much more aggressive kiss and Sihtric was quick to meld his lips to yours. Facial hair tickling your skin as he walked you back towards the tree behind you. Hands resting on your waist tight, quickly taking control of the kiss as he usually did.

But before long, he pulled back and you could not help the sigh that left your lips and Sihtric only smiled in response.

“You know why, my lady, I do not want to-” he began but you pressed a finger to his lips.

You knew what he would say, that he did not want to ‘taint your virtue’.

“I heard something today, you know, that might persuade you,” you whispered, pressing a single kiss to the curve of his jaw, and you could see him roll his eyes. But he waited for you to continue.

“I heard…that it stays innocent if we remain clothed,” you continued, and Sihtric pulled back a little, but you chased his lips and pulled him down for another kiss.

But this time you tried to move things further, your hands now gripping into his shirt and pulling him tighter to your body. And he relented, until your hands began to delve lower.

“Not yet, my lady…” he whispered and when you opened your mouth to speak again, he silenced you with a final kiss.

Three weeks later, a note arrived at your rooms with the name of an inn and nothing else written upon it. Which meant only one thing, Sihtric was leaving again. You had no duties remaining, so you wasted no time in grabbing your cloak and hurrying out of a little-known door to the castle. The walk to the inn felt like it took forever, when it was mere minutes with how quiet the city was now. The whole situation was bittersweet. You were excited to see Sihtric as always, but you knew this meant he was going to be gone for who knows how long.

When you arrived at the inn, you were greeted immediately by Finan who only nodded and led you quickly to where Sihtric was roomed. You appreciated the help of course, the less time spent in the more public areas of an inn was better. Finan led you upstairs and knocked once on what you assumed was Sihtric’s door before leaving you to wait.

Thankfully, your lover did not take long to answer, tugging you inside and shutting the door quickly. He was quick to pull you into his arms. Sihtric was one for showing, rather than telling. Physical touch over poetic words.

You were pulled to the bed and Sihtric was quick to have you straddling his lap, a place you had been quite a few times before. His hands on your waist, holding you in place as his lips found yours. The kiss was hungrier than the one he had greeted you with only a few weeks ago and the few you had shared in between. But he always was before he left you.

You wasted less time in trying to push things further and he was a little slower in stopping you this time. Your hands gripping his shirt and unlacing a few ties toward the top. Exposing his throat and collarbone to your lingering kisses. The groans you earned from his lips only spurring you on.

As if on instinct, your hips began to roll, giving into the passion that was coursing through every inch of your veins. Sihtric’s grip on your hips tightened momentarily before he began to help you move and you took that as a sign. You got bold, kissing and nipping softly at his neck and smiling when he did not stop you.

But your joy was short-lived.

“My lady…we should not...” he groaned, the roughness in his tone telling you something very different.

“Sihtric, what I said still stands. We remain clothed, it remains innocent,” you whispered, now kissing from his neck and up to the shell of his ear.

You could feel his resolve faltering. But not quite enough. Sihtric pulled back from you and held your face in his hands.

“When I return, we will talk, my love, I swear it.”

A month, that was how long he had been gone, and you were getting more concerned by the day. Uhtred had followed Alfred and the Saxons to battle with the invading Danes and no news of the outcome had returned to Winchester. And no news was worse than bad news. Not knowing if any of them lived or were hurt or worse. Lady Aethelflaed could see you were concerned and did her best to keep you distracted but when you were alone, you could only wonder what the truth was.

Before he had left, Sihtric had asked you to meet him at the same inn as before and that he would send word the moment he stepped foot in Winchester. Now, it was simply a waiting game.

Days later, such word arrived, and you did not even try to hide the way you rushed from the castle. Lady Aethelflaed made excuses for your sudden departure, as she always did. You near ran to the inn, pushing past patrons and finding Sihtric hidden away in a corner. Without a word, he took your hand and pulled you back towards a room he had already paid for.

The moment that door shut, you were in his arms. Sihtric pressed your back to the door the second the latch clicked closed and his lips found your neck immediately. His beard had grown in the time had been gone and the rough hairs only added to the sensations against your skin.

You can tell he is so lost in his pleasure as he slips his leg between yours, spreading them apart ever so slightly. It is only when you begin to roll your hips against him that he stops.

“You promised we would talk…” you mumbled, the sudden absence of his touch leaving your mind a little foggy.

“I did.”

Sihtric was torn. As much as he wanted more, craved more, there was a part of him that felt guilty at the idea of, for want of a better word, defiling you. As far as he had been concerned, you were good and pure. He could not take that away from you.

“I will say it and keep saying it. It is innocent if we remain clothed…” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you moved to kiss him again, gripping his shirt and pulling him back tight against you.

And you kept saying those words. As you kissed down his jaw, his neck and all the while moving your hands lower from his back to his waist and finally gripping the firm flesh of his backside.

All those things combined had something snap in him. A low, almost whimpered groan leaving him as he pressed himself more forcefully against you. The wood of the door scratching at your back. What you didn’t expect was his hand to grip your thigh and pull it to his waist. Gone was the soft gentleman that had been so averse to such intimacies. Replaced now with a man slowly being consumed by his need and desires.

“I promise…it will be innocent still…” Were the last words that left your lips before they were replaced with moans. His hips rutting up into yours in an almost desperate rhythm, searching for some sort of friction to relieve the rush of blood to his cock. Your words were breaking his resolve piece by piece, but he no longer cared.

But you were not quite ready to relinquish all control. You had spent so long breaking that steadfast resolve of his, that you were not about to falter at the last stretch.

Your hand slipped down his body, palming him over the fabric of his trousers and relishing the sigh that he breathed against your neck as he finally got some of the friction he needed. Your movements were slow, giving him some but not quite enough for him to find release.

“Please…” he mumbled against your neck, barely loud enough for you to hear. So, you played on it, slowing your hand further and asking him to repeat himself.

“Please, my love, just…please,” he barely knew what he was saying, but he knew that his resolve was nothing. He needed you; he wanted you.

You did not let him see the smile that tugged at your lips as you sped up your movements, working his length until he was panting and huffing against your throat. His own hand had found its way beneath your skirts and had them pushed up to your waist. Now it was your turn to moan out, as his fingers dipped quickly beneath your small clothes and between your already slick folds. There was little need for such touches, you were already more than wet and ready for him, but he wanted to feel you. Sihtric had only allowed himself such a pleasure with you once before and he vowed now to never deny himself again.

“Sihtric..” you moaned out as his thumb found your pearl, practised movements creating a steady rhythm that had your head falling back against the door and your hand losing rhythm over his cock.

But he did not mind one bit, your words playing over and over in his mind. If you believed it, then it must be true. “It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

His hand on your thigh tightened as the fingers buried in your cunt pulled away. Your whine at the loss of contact was cut short when your heard the rustle of fabric as he untied his trousers. Pushing them down just enough to free his now painfully hard cock. His lips were gentle against yours as he slowly pushed inside, the stretch painful, but not enough to make you want to stop.

And much like before, feeling you clench and relax around him made him wonder why he had denied himself this. You wanted it just as he did. His thrusts began gentle, easing himself inside and giving you time to adjust. You appreciated the gesture, but you wanted…no…needed more.

“Faster, please…”

That was all he needed. His hands gripping your thighs and lifting you higher up the door, reminding you of the strength that was held in such a soft shell. The new angle was enough to have you moaning his name, over and over as his hands held you firm against the door. His rhythm picking up momentum as he chased your release and his. There was no concern for how loud you were being, his name being chanted over and over again as he pounded his hips into you. His own grunts and whimpers muffled by the skin of your neck.

Soon, release found you. Your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you sighed out what sounded like his name, but your voice was too pleasure filled to tell. But Sihtric was far from done. Planting one hand against the door and focusing solely on finding his own release. Which came soon enough, the way your walls clenched round him in the aftershocks of your orgasm was enough to having him painting your insides with a soft groan.

He slowed himself to still, pressing kisses over your skin until he reached your lips. The two of you remained there for a while, simply taking in each other’s presence.

The next morning came, and it was the first time you had spent the night sleeping at Sihtric’s side. But you could think of nowhere else to be. Sihtric soon led you downstairs and you were both greeted by his friends, who all turned to you with what could only be described as smug grins. What they all said next, would only be the beginning of their teasing.

“It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

Tags: @foxyanon @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @legitalicat @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @alexagirlie

You guys are the reason this got written so you deserve to be tagged!

[jenscx]

CRUSH 43 — wait for me

you spot minjeong frantically running around in circles, the fangirls surrounding her quickly dispersing after the guitarist shoos them away.

a giggle escapes your lips when minjeong tilts her head upwards, reminiscent of a puppy. her eyes light up and you feel warmth spread all over your body.

‘hi.’ you mouth. minjeong, starstruck, waves to you. she’s so cute, you think. while minjeong stares at you, frozen, you smile at her and walk away from the railings. you hear her yell at you to wait and after a few seconds, minjeong’s in front of you, panting.

“h…hi.”

“hello.”

you’re taken back to the first time you’ve ever laid eyes on her. summer, which is ironic considering her stage name. and winter is contrasting to all the emotions she makes you feel. warmth, happiness, peace. how could someone make you feel so loved and cared for? how could someone be so amazingly talented and wonderful?

how could someone like kim minjeong exist?

her eyes crinkle up into a smile at your voice, cheeks aflame (you can’t tell if it’s from the running or she’s just nervous to see you) as she mumbles, “why didn’t you reply?”

“just wanted to see your reaction,” you laugh, “it was cute.”

if minjeong could get any redder, she would resemble a tomato. you stop to take a good look at her. just after a week of you being gone, her hair is now dyed back to black. hm, you liked blonde better. maybe you could convince her to dye it back to blonde. it would ruin her hair though.

“i like you,” minjeong mutters, breaking the silence.

“i already knew that?” you reply, confused.

her cheeks are puffed out and you restrain the urge to pull her into a hug.

“i wanted to tell you again,” she looks away shyly, “and i wanted to hear it back, in person.”

“you’re lucky you’re so adorable,” you chuckle. minjeong’s head swiftly turns again, her fingers fidgeting as she repeats, “can i hear it?”

you pretend to contemplate. as the silence grows longer, minjeong’s face slowly falls, to a point where you no longer resist the temptation to wrap your arms around her. minjeong awkwardly tenses up before relaxing and purring into your arms. you couldn’t decide whether she was a cat or dog. maybe both.

“minjeongie,” you sigh into her ears, “you would be stupid to think there’s a universe where i wouldn’t like you back.”

minjeong buries her head into the crook of your neck, humming contentedly. you allow the peaceful moment to continue for a few seconds before pulling away.

“you hurt me, you know?” minjeong pouts.

“i know, mj. i’m sorry. i’ll try to communicate more.”

minjeong smiles brightly at your answer. “so are we a thing now?” you shake your head and tap her nose gently.

“don’t forget ryujin’s still in the picture, okay?” her face turns into guilt immediately and you’re quick to reassure her by rubbing her shoulders gently. she frowns. although you wished you could date her immediately, you weren’t going to be someone who engaged in two-timing.

“i swear i don’t like her,” minjeong blurts out, “she was just there for me to forget about you.” you pat her hair softly, smiling at how cute the guitarist was.

“i know, minjeong.”

“i’ll talk to her,” she leans into your touch, “but wait for me until then?”

you grin at the girl staring at you with big doe eyes full of hope. minjeong truly was an angel sent from heaven. and you try to convey every emotion and feeling she’s ever given you into one sentence.

“i’d wait forever for you.”

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[wordsofelie]

Chapter 8

🌅Don’t you dare run away (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change— Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing

Words count: 5k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7

Osamu doesn’t talk about what happened.

The main reason is that he wants to believe it was only a one-time thing. You were simply surprised to see your ex after who knows how many months or years; your relationship with Osamu is only starting even though you’ve known each other for a long time. Osamu wants to respect your boundaries; he wants to give you the time you need to get used to this new life. He’ll be patient (for once, his mother would say).

But that one-time thing lasts longer than expected.

Four months pass, you’re well settled in Tokyo, well integrated into your new team and Osamu has become a regular on the Omiya-Shin Osaka shinkansen line. He alternates between his shop in Osaka, where he has taken on a new full-time manager (Sato and Nagisa love her), and his new premises in Tokyo, which are still in the restoration phase. Osamu opted for a smaller place close to a university and a business district (strangely close to Akaashi's offices), the goal being to focus on takeaway food rather than a familial restaurant. Kita is getting ready to supply twice more rice and he’s just waiting for his former teammate to open the new shop.

By the time the Olympics end, everyone is aware that you’re dating. Bokuto couldn’t help but tell Hinata and Akaashi, Hinata couldn’t resist sharing the news with Kageyama during their game against Argentina, claiming it just slipped. And, from there, the secret practically ran itself through the team. By the time it got to Atsumu, he’d almost passed out from shock. The setter had cornered Osamu one evening. “Are ya serious? My own twin, my own flesh ‘n blood, and ya didn’t even tell me?”

But as soon as he finished his tirade, he sighed heavily and clasped Osamu on the shoulder. “Ya know, ‘Samu, I’m glad it’s ya though. She deserves it. Just... don’t mess it up, alright?”

And Osamu promised he wouldn’t. They went out to have dinner that night and Atsumu’s eyes got wet when the waiter served the plates.

“Yer leavin’ me again,” he whines to his twin.

Osamu groaned, “Stop bein’ such a crybaby for fuck’s sake. How am I supposed to beat ya if I get stuck in the same place? It’s like we're runnin’ a race but with our shoelaces tied together. One of us has to get past the other.” Because it sounded too serious, or maybe because his eyes also got wet, Osamu stretched out his arm on the chair and his voice turned to tease mode again, “and I guess, I'm just better with women than ya.”

Atsumu got mad and they acted like themselves again, as if nothing happened, as if they weren't on the verge of tears at the idea of being away from each other. 

His mother, of course, was over the moon. She’d even sent a few of your favourite treats because according to her, this announcement warranted a full family celebration. “We always hoped, ya know,” she’d told Osamu with a soft smile, “that you’d end up with someone just like her. Maybe even her, actually.” She winked, and before Osamu could stop her, she was already planning the next family gathering (and a wedding.)

No need to mention Umi who was the first to know. Osamu received a text from her early one morning, saying how happy she was for you and hinting at his potential murder if he ever broke your heart. He didn’t know whether to laugh or hide.

The only person still completely out of the loop remains Suna.

For some reason, the thought doesn’t worry Osamu. Wordlessly, you both agreed to let things settle naturally. It’s only a matter of time before you tell him, or at least, that’s what Osamu believes.

But it’s now almost November and the guys from Inarizaki High have organised a team reunion in Tokyo when Osamu officially opens his new restaurant. Your boyfriend tries to ignore the feeling, but it does sting when you seem to avoid his gaze whenever Suna is nearby. At some point in the night, Gin—who’s the only other person not aware of your situation—wraps his arm around Osamu’s shoulder and asks him, “So, what about you, man? Got anyone special?”

Osamu pauses, his hand lingers just a little too long on his glass. He catches your eye across the table, but you look away. Something twists in his chest.

That evening, you fight for the time.

When you return home, Osamu is quieter than usual, barely meeting your eyes.

“Are you mad?” you ask, watching him from the doorway as he sits on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap.

But he doesn’t look up. “That you acted as if I didn’t exist in front of yer ex, again? Huh, nah.”

You move closer to him. “Osamu…”

“Look, it’s fine,” he replies, and it breaks his heart not to look at your face. You’re probably hurt right now, but if he lands his eyes on you, he will probably just want to apologise and kiss your lips and your eyes and your cheeks to make the sadness go away, “I’m just tired.”

“Let’s talk about it.”

He huffs a sigh through his nose, “I said it’s fine.”

Then he gets up, his back is facing you now. Osamu feels his blood rushing through his veins, both out of frustration and guilt, “I get it if yer disappointed in this relationship.”

The words cut deeper than either of you expected, and for a second, you stay silent. A bitter laugh leaves your mouth.

“Disappointed? You’re not the one who’s felt neglected these past few weeks,” you reply, and your voice raises just slightly higher. “Whether you’re in Osaka or here, it’s like I barely exist to you. I mean, at least when we were just friends, I felt like I had some part of you. Now… I don’t know, Osamu...”

Your shoulders slouch and your brows furrow. When he takes a glimpse at you, the frustration is fully replaced by guilt. 

“My love…” he begins, reaching for you, but you cover your stomach as if to shield yourself from him.

“No, I… I guess I should’ve seen it coming. Maybe it was a stupid idea to let you follow me to Tokyo. I was selfish. And if you want to leave me, I understand-”

Miya Osamu has heard some stupid things in the past (especially coming out of his brother’s mouth), but leaving you has to be the craziest one. How in the world could he want someone else other than you? Now that he had a taste of what it’s like to be by your side, how could he ever think of leaving?

It’s been a decade, ten full years, that Osamu has been watching you from the sidelines. He saw you being almost chosen, half-loved by Suna. He watched you break and then pick yourself up before falling into the arms of your good-for-nothing ex again. It was unfair, it was infuriating to see you look at him with stars in your eyes when you obviously deserved so much more—the whole universe even. And then, without trying, he fell head over heels for you. He started yearning after you, desired to be the one you go home to every day, the one who makes your heart flip in your chest.

Now, in all modesty, Osamu can say he is no longer on the sidelines; he’s with you and he’s yours.

But words aren’t enough thus, he moves toward you, so quickly that it startles you. His hands find your neck delicately, his fingers get tangled in your hair and before you can pull away, he says, “Hey, I’m not goin’ anywhere. Ya understand? Yer it for me.”

You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. “But I don’t want to be a burden,” you respond in a murmur. “You work so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I don’t want to be just one more thing you have to worry about.”

“But that’s exactly my role.” His forehead meets yours, “listen here, sweetheart, I would burn down the restaurant for ya.”

“But I don’t want that.” He makes you smile wide through your tears.

“No, me neither.” He chuckles but after, his voice softens, “What I mean is that startin’ today and for all the days that come, yer the one I’ll choose over everything. If I had to relive my life, I’d choose ya again and again, I’d probably choose ya earlier. Please, now tell me when something is wrong because nothing could ever make me fall outta love for ya. I’m not him.”

You put your hand over his, and squeeze tightly, “And I don’t want anything else, Osamu. Just you.”

“Then that’s what ya got. And promise me one thing.”

You nod and he brushes a tear from your cheek. “Anything.”

“Let’s just tell each other when something’s wrong. It’s shit to argue like that. I’m sorry if ya felt like I wasn’t here enough, I’ll make it up ya, okay?”

Your arms wrap around him tightly, as if letting go would make all of this disappear. “You don’t have to, I didn’t mean what I said… I was just hurt, and I guess, I just miss you. We don’t see each other as much those days, but I know it’s for the better. As for Rin,” you look up at him and Osamu realises he forgot what the argument was about in the first place. He gulps loudly. “I’ll tell him, soon. But I just need a bit more time. I guess I'm just worry it'll make things awkward between you too...”

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Take all the time ya need. And ya know, we're grown men, okay? No one’s gonna punch the other... he’d get hurt anyway.”

You laugh, (and avoid reminding him that Suna Rintarou is a professional athlete, probably for the sake of his ego) and only hug him more.

Feeling your skin against his as you slip under the sheets, is the only thing that matters now. You chose him, not Suna, and the thought is enough to make his whole body shiver.

You fall asleep first and Osamu, in an unusual moment of gratitude, wants to thank the gods for being able to see your pretty face everyday. Make it last forever, he wishes to ask them. When he closes his eyes later, he is convinced that they heard him.

The gods are funny entities. Maybe they did hear him and maybe they’re trying to impulse your relationship on the right path.

At least, that’s the conclusion your boyfriend comes up with when on a calm Saturday morning, as he is making breakfast while you’re taking a shower, someone knocks at the door.

Osamu sets down the bowl of batter he is holding, turns off the stove to prevent the baking pancakes from burning, and walks to the door.

The door swings open, and he has to take a step back in surprise when one Suna Rintarou appears in front of him.

“My mum wanted to give you – Osamu?”

Both men seem to be equally surprised. Osamu tries to hide his displeasure. He just wanted to spend a quiet morning with you, eating breakfast and cuddling, so why the hell is your ex in front of him right now?

“Oh Suna, hi… hm…”

“Dearest are you-” your voice chimes in but stops as fast. “Rin?”

Osamu widens his eyes and looks at you, he scratches the back of his neck nervously. “I’m- hm- thank you for letting me sleep here yesterday. I’ll leave now.”

His excuse doesn’t seem to ease Suna’s doubts as the man with his usual sharp-eyed self, throws Osamu a side-eye. But soon enough, his attention falls on you and he crosses his arms, waiting for an explanation.

Osamu’s face swings from you to him a few times. It’s clear that you’re speaking to each other without words. Whatever space he takes in your heart now, Suna has been here before and the string that once led you to him could never truly be severed.

“Osamu lives here.” You take his hand, “we are dating.”

There’s a long silence. It’s awkward and heavy. Osamu suddenly wants to pinch his arm, hoping none of this is happening. The man understands why you kept putting this moment off for so long.

But you’re brave enough to continue, “Did you come here for something?”

“My mum found that bracelet you lost.” He takes the jewellery out of his pocket. It’s discreet but Osamu and Suna gazes meet, probably to prove to your boyfriend that he didn’t just come to see you out of the blue.

You take the bracelet from his hand, thanking him a several times and claiming you were still hoping to find it, even after all those years.

“Please Rin, enter.” 

Suna is quick to take his shoes off and step into your living room, “She also baked you this.”

Your eyes shine when you see the box he is handing you, “Auntie’s cookies? Gosh, they’re the best. I’ll warm them up.”

You turn to your boyfriend with a smile. “I can’t wait for you to try them.”

Osamu clears his throat, “Yeah, me too…D’ya want a cup of coffee or-”

“I’m fine,” Suna replies with nonchalance as he passes past Osamu to follow you in the kitchen. The latter has to hold back a groan. It’s a good thing he started meditation because right now, he really needs to keep his calm.

Suna only looks at you as the three of you stand in the kitchen, waiting for the cookies to be savoured, “my mum didn’t put any peanuts in the cookies, you still think it tastes like soap, right?”

Osamu raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, I do, it’s so considerate of her.” You give Suna a cup of tea.

“Lemon tea, my favourite, you remember.”

You smile gently at him in response, but Osamu can see that your lips tug into a thin line after. Suna is acting out of character, and it’s confusing you as well as your boyfriend.  

“Angel,” Osamu starts and from the corner of his eyes, he can see Suna’s shoulders tense. “I also made pancakes; we can share it together if ya want. I went to the market this morning to buy raspberries. I’m sorry, I know ya love blueberries more but- ”

“She prefers strawberries.” The middle blocker mumbles, though it’s unmistakably aimed at reaching Osamu’s ears.

“Wait, wait, guys, what are you doing?”

The boys look at each other and just when they both open their mouths, ready to justify their actions, your phone rings.

“I have to take this, it’s for work – Hi Kuroo-senpai.” You say as you escape to your bedroom.

Osamu wishes he could follow you, but instead, he sighs. He, who waited all week to spend this morning with you, now wants it to be over.

He turns to Suna, but your ex doesn’t move even with those two eyes staring at him, as if deadpan. He’s not going to talk first and Osamu summons up all its courage to start the conversation.

“Listen man I-”

“I’m not really surprised.”

Osamu blinks a few times.

“You guys always had that weird relationship. Ever since high school, I tried to keep her away from you, when we used to walk home together, she wanted to wait for you, but I often said you wanted to stay to practice more. I never told her that but when I moved to Hiroshima and she started spending all her days with you, I hated it. I tried hanging out with girls to make her jealous-”

“That’s a shitty move.”

“Oh, shut up, we were nineteen.” Suna’s voice sounds frustrated, it’s a first, Osamu thinks. He never saw that look on his face before, even when they shared defeats together. Maybe, he did truly love you? “And I regretted acting like that… anyway, she dumped me in the end. I guess that’s what you call karma.”

“Yer the one who dumped her first.”

He rolls his eyes in response, “I know. Biggest mistake of my life. But I’ve moved on now. I’ll go.”

Osamu is taken aback by his last words but realises he heard it right when Suna makes his way to the genkan again.

“Dontcha wanna wait til her call is finished?”

“You want me to stay?”

Osamu hesitates and it makes Suna chuckle. 

Once he’s done putting his shoes on, he looks behind his shoulder at his former teammate.

“You’re a lucky man, don’t you dare run away.”

A warm feeling spreads through his stomach, and something clicks in his brain as if he just remembered a happy memory from his childhood. He has no idea when and where, but Osamu feels like he heard those words before. Maybe from a dream.

“I won’t. I really love her.”

“The first match of the season is next week, I’m playing against Atsumu, if you guys want to come.”

“We will.”

“Don’t be jealous if she supports me though,” Suna smirks slightly and it pisses off the other man who can’t help but grin wider.

“Ya? Against the team she works for. When her brother-in-law is playin’, I didn’t know ya were so delusional dude.”

“Brother-in-law.” Suna laughs, but it’s scornful this time, “Don’t act like you’re engaged man. I’m going now, see you.”

This is the last thing Suna says before he gets out of your shared apartment.  

Engaged?

For the second time, a warm feeling hits him. It feels good, even if the thought sends a rush of nerves along with it. He doesn’t have the time to analyse it because you go out of the bedroom and scan the kitchen.

“He left,” Osamu explains as he wraps his arms around your waist. His nose finds your neck, breathing in your scent as if you’d been gone far too long—as if he’d been waiting for ages to feel you again.

“What was that about?”

He knows exactly how you’re looking at him right now, he doesn’t even need to meet your eyes. That's why, instead, he stays nestled in the crook of your neck, pretending to be oblivious.

“Hm?”

“With Rin?”

“Suna.”

“Rin.”

He clicks his tongue and finally looks at you, “Rintarou.”

“Alright, with Rintarou.” You’re holding back your laughter at his childish jealousy, “Why were you acting all ‘I know her more’ like two prepubescent teens?”

Your impression of him only makes you look cuter. His fingers trace light circles against your waist and with a side smile, he replies, “What can I do? I’m a weak man sweetheart, I love ya so much.”

“I love you too.” You kiss his cheek and just when you’re about to get away from his grip, he pulls you closer, “I have to work a little bit.”

“But it’s Saturday.” He pouts.

“Kuroo needs me for a project,” your phone rings again. Before you can reach it, Osamu puts his hands under the back of your thighs and lifts you.

“Osamu, put me down, I need to take this call.”

“Mister bedhair can wait.”

“That’s rude.”

“But I wanna take care of ya.”

He starts kissing your neck once you’re sat on the counter. You don’t stop him.

You spend your first Christmas as a couple at his parents’ house. You insist on helping his mother prepare dinner, pushing Osamu away every time he dares sneaking into the kitchen to ensure everything is going fine. “It’s better to fry the chicken like that,” he says, or “I’d recommend a pinch more salt in those mashed potatoes.”

Finally, his mother sighs and shoos him away. “Osamu, let her breathe, for gods' sake!”

You can’t help but grin as you catch his eye, pleased to have his Ma’ on your side.

The dinner is great. Your relationship with his mother is clearly turning into an effortless connection. So, when dessert is served, and she starts telling you awkward moments of his childhood, that Osamu would rather leave forgotten, the man eventually excuses himself to “go to the restroom.” (Even if you both know he’s just escaping the spotlight.)

As he wanders down the hallway, Osamu glances into his old bedroom and spots Atsumu fiddling with an old suit. “Ya don’t want dessert?”

“Am on a diet,” his twin says.

“What’re ya doin’?”                           

“Am tryin’ on one of Pa’s suits. Got Meian’s wedding next week.” He gives the blazer a tug to smooth it out.

Osamu leans against the doorframe, “Didn’t ya just buy a new one like a month ago?”

“Yeah but…” The blond grins as his gaze meets his brother’s reflection in the mirror, “I’d rather keep the new one for yer wedding.”

Osamu is left speechless; he doesn’t even try to contradict the setter—why would he anyway? Wedding isn’t something the man even thought about in the past, but when it comes to you, it seems evident, right—like something he didn’t know he’d wanted all along blossoms in him. He can’t pinpoint why, but loving you always feels new, like he’s constantly discovering pieces of his heart he hadn’t known were there. He’s so in love, and maybe this love does deserve a proper ceremony.

The idea doesn’t leave his mind, even as you’re on the doorstep, ready to go home. You’re bidding goodbye to Atsumu when his mother tells him to drive safely.

“Ma’?” He tries to pipe up with confidence, but his mother discerns his discomfort with ease, “Would ya…I mean- d’ya still have yer mother’s ring?”

A smile blooms on her lips, it’s almost as wide as when she congratulated them for winning the Nationals a few years back. In a subtle move, she disappears inside and comes back with a bag.

“She would have adored her,” she simply declares in a murmur and it’s enough to create a wave of emotions in the man’s heart—sadness, nostalgia, pride, and above everything else, happiness.

So he takes the bag claiming later that inside his mother put “her favourite cooking book”, when you ask what she gave him. He’s not lying though, the older lady did put a cooking book in the bag, to avoid arousing suspicion, but what you don’t know is that it is accompanied by a small, black box tucked discreetly at the bottom, and that it contains a delicate gold ring. Later that night, before going to bed, Osamu opens the box in the soft light of your bedroom lamp. The ring is beautiful, but it’s also intimidating, even for a guy who has never shied away from a challenge. He’ll ask you one day, but it’ll take courage, more than he’s ready to muster right now (a little voice inside of his brain also wonders what he’ll do if you reject him).

For now, he’ll keep it safe, hiding in his nightstand, under an Onigiri Miya cap (you never asked questions on why there was a cap in there, much to Osamu's relief), so it’s close enough to reach whenever he finds himself ready to shut down the little voice. It's easier said than done, but someday—he hopes—he’ll find the right time to make it real.

And just like that a year passes and the box remains hidden.

It’s winter again when Osamu decides that if he doesn’t do it now, he’ll just keep on delaying the moment. He’s in Osaka for work when he calls to ask you to spend the weekend with him in Hyogo. You are quick to say yes and buy the train ticket.

The cogs can be set in motion and the first knot in his stomach releases.

You arrive the next morning with a packet full of cannelés to offer Sato, Nagisa and Tano, their new manager. Everyone’s excited at trying the pastries but Osamu refuses to try one.

“We should go,” he informs you and takes your hand. You’re confused but follow him inside the car anyway.

The three other employees’ wave at you with wide smiles, it’s a good thing that their enthusiasm to see you leave doesn’t alarm you. Only Osamu knows why they’re so eager to see their boss get out of here, after all, they know what he’s about to do since they have been his trusted confidants this past week. In truth, Osamu has been practising his speech for days, first with Tano, the calmest of the three, who listened quietly as Osamu stumbled through his words. And then with the other two, who were more than happy to help him prepare for the big moment, his private rehearsal quickly turned into a bit of a group affair. They even spent the entire morning insisting that never in a million years you will refuse his proposal.

You spend the first twenty minutes of the ride trying to guess where you are going.

“Kobe?” You first ask, “Or Kyoto? Oh, that would be so nice, I’ve not been in Kyoto in ages.”

You seem convinced that it will be a city, but instead, he drives you to the countryside.

The road becomes familiar, Osamu can see in your eyes that you’re starting to recognize the landscapes; the fields of rice or matcha or flowers (he still doesn’t know which one it is, even in the daylight).

“Are we going to Kita’s farm?” You finally figure. “Don't tell me, I know it is Kita's farm. See, told you I’d guessed.”

You look so sure of yourself, cute, he thinks, and it makes him want to leave kisses on your grin and all over your face.

But the surprise only begins and when he pulls over to the side of the road, near a cliff, you start assaulting him with questions again. Osamu doesn’t answer, he just gets out, opens the passenger door and gently leads you out of the car.

“D' ya know where we are?” He says a few minutes later.

You glance around to look at the view and open your month, but he trails you off.

“This is where I feel in love with ya. Well- I guess I feel in love before, though I was very slow, but this is where I realised I was in love. Since then, I’ve not stopped falling for ya and for … well, everything about ya.”

“Osamu?”

He keeps going even though his heart threatens to explode in his chest, “I’m kinda nervous, but I really wanna do this. Yer the one for me, and I know I don’t always give ya the time ya deserve and I’m jealous sometimes… but I love ya and I’d like to laugh with ya for the rest of my life. So…”

He takes a little box from his pocket and gets on one knee (a little bit too harshly, he'll probably get a bruise tomorrow). The look of surprise—or rather shock, to be completely honest— on your face tells him you hadn’t realised what was happening until this moment.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for like a long time, and I really hope ya would accept to become my fiancé and perhaps my wife someday… if you’ll have me.”

You jump into his arms and Osamu fears he’ll fall down—not that he would mind. He would drown in oceans with you, get into a tornado, jump off a cliff, just to feel you against him.

“Dummy, idiot, argh you-”

“Why’re ya insultin’ me woman?”

He looks at you, there’s tears in your eyes, in this light, they look like stardust.

“I really want to be your fiancé and your wife and your everything.”

You already are, he wants to say but you shut him up with a kiss and he thinks you’ve never tasted so good. All the knots in his stomach can relax (because you said yes!)

The colour of the ring on your finger, golden, suits you. It reminds him of the sunrise and of the promise that you’ll be here next morning, and the one after, and the one after.

For the rest of his life, Osamu can fall asleep at peace because he knows you’ll always be the first thing he’ll see when he wakes up.

The wedding is planned for the following summer. You opt for something small and intimate, with family and close friends. His mother and yours help with the preparations, Umi chooses your dress, Bokuto does his bit too by ordering a cake from the patisserie  that's just opened next door to Onigiri Miya (this is entirely out of friendship for you, and not because he has a huge crush on the shop's owner), and finally Atsumu helps his brother find the wedding venue.

Everything is perfect, except for…  

“You said you wanted to invite the guys from high school.”

A sigh escapes from his nose and he avoids your gaze, “I know but-“

“The guys from high school that also means Rin.” He raises an eyebrow and his jaw clenches, “-tarou.”

“Alright, alright… Let’s invite Suna. It’s just, ya know, I want a very small weddin’, I’m not like ‘Tsumu.”

You cup his cheeks, “My love, I’d feel bad if I invited your team and not him. Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’ll leave with Rintarou just before the wedding, huh?”

His ears suddenly feel warm, and he tries to hide the shade of red that invaded his face by lowering his cap, you burst into laughter.

“Oi!” he barks, offended, “stop makin’ fun of me or ya'll never hear my vows.”

Your teasing smile turns into a pout, and you look at him with puppy eyes. With that face, Osamu knows he’s screwed. “I’m goin’ to bed now,” he informs.

But before he can run away, you grab his arm and with your other hand, you trace a line from his cheekbone to his jaw. He can feel the coldness of the golden ring against his skin. He closes his eyes for a second and lets you whisper a few sweet words in his ear.

"You make me happy,” you tell him in the end.

“So do ya,” he breathes. His lips find yours; you quiver helplessly beneath the touch. He smiles, “And it’s only the beginnin'.”

a/n: I may or may not have shed a tear haha

I hope you guys are happy with this ending, if you're interrested to read more I can always write some short extra stories about them

thank you for reading, liking and commenting, it means a lot to me <3

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt, @iluv-ace, @cinnamonruts

[wannaeatramyeon]

//peeks in here//

I am shyly going to ask if requesting where the reader is Goo’s younger sister and where Samuel somehow gets hired to protect Goo’s younger sister (despite the younger sister knowing some self defense) / the reader falling for Samuel? Would be okay with you? :0 (if that makes any sense-)

If not, that’s totally fine :>

Just thought I’d give it a shot aha-

Sure that's ok with me anon! Sorry for the delay! Man I miss the days before Sammy was fully unhinged.

Samuel Seo x Goo's Younger Sister!Reader: Plushie

Goo doesn't like this.

The way your eyes widen upon first meeting, the way his linger a moment too long.

If he wasn't busy being out of town, running around like Charles Choi's very well paid dog, he wouldn't need to do this.

But Samuel, with his terrible daddy issues and irrational need to prove himself-

Goo might as well take advantage of it.

"If she misses even a hair on her pretty lil head then I'll cut yours off, ok Samuel?"

"Oppa!"

.

.

Sammy-

(Or Samuel as he likes to be called. Which you learned after you earned a disapproving glare and a correction each time. Good thing his glares have no effect on you and you don't care what he likes.)

- is more patient with you than his haughty and bored expression may suggest.

To your annoyance, it seems that he has taken your Oppa's word to heart and has made it his current life mission to keep you in sight and within reach almost all times.

"What do you like to watch, Sammy?"

As if on reflex, the glare comes. Except it doesn't hold anywhere near as much frostiness as it did in the first couple days. He's still exasperated, but becoming resigned to his unfavourable nickname.

"Nothing."

You're also getting used to his short, curt responses.

If you think about it, It's kind of ridiculous that this man is sitting next to you in your apartment. Very close quarters. Shadowing you for over a week now.

Dressed down. In a hoodie that is at once large and comfy, yet extremely tight in certain areas, and sweatpants. His dress code has gradually loosened. From expensive tailored suits, to casual shirts and chinos, and now to this.

This situation can be read as intimate. Except he's only here because he has to be, and your Oppa doesn't believe you can protect yourself.

(You wanted to tell Goo that he's wrong. He was the one that trained you up, after all. But there's no stopping him once he gets something in his head.)

"You must like to watch something. Action? Thrillers? Comedies? Documentaries?" 

"I prefer to read."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, "What about when you were a kid? You must like something then."

An inscrutable expression flashes across Samuel's face, his next words come out forced. "Nothing. I couldn’t- didn’t watch anything."

Oh. 

You file that away for another time, maybe when you don't have whatever this wall is between you. If that day ever comes.

That small bit of insight into what sort of boy this man used to be.

Because the likely reasons he couldn’t are either he wasn't allowed to or couldn't afford to, and neither of these are great choices.

You decide to breeze over it. For today. Deciding that Sammy is not the sort of person that would want any sort of sympathy. That he would most likely interpret it as pity.

"Well, let's watch this. It's my fave."

Unfortunately your fave is nothing short of absolute trash.

.

.

Samuel sits silent throughout the full 30 minutes.

At the end, you turn to him and press for his thoughts.

"It's... not bad."

His answer stuns you. You don't hide your expression and receive a small smile in return.

You look at him in a new light.

If someone was to ask either of you when it started, both of you would probably answer this moment was when the fondness started to grow.

.

.

Goo would likely kill him.

Trace a blade along each of his tattoos, dig in and watch the crimson flow.

If Goo knew that Samuel had any sort of anything towards you, Samuel would suffer a fate worse than death.

Still, the close quarters are doing nothing to help his budding interest.

The show was a turning point. From you being Goo's somewhat bratty and annoying sister-

(Goo is extremely bratty and annoying himself, of course it would run in the family.)

- to you being… Well.

You.

A fully formed person in your own right.

Your laughter changes from grating to infectious.

Your questions from prying to simply curious.

Your 'Sammy' from exasperating to endearing.

Even his assigned job to look after you no longer feels like a chore, another chance to nurture his Secret Friend status.

It's enjoyable.

.

.

Your shopping habits test the limit of Samuel's patience.

Your shoes are also testing the limit of your foot arch, but you decide it's worth it to see how long he can bear traipsing after you.

He might be winning this one as he follows you obediently, store after store.

Reaching for his wallet each time you carry an item towards the register. You rebuff him with a wave of your black credit card (technically, your Oppa's black credit card) and Samuel seems to suffer from not being able to perform this act of gallantry.

Offers his opinion even when you don't ask, usually in distaste at something you're looking at. A huff of laughter when you accuse him of being the one with no taste. 

Accuses outright you of being tasteless when you ponder over purchasing an adorable plushie.

Samuel dismisses it. "It's ugly."

"Well it reminds me of you!"

He stills for a moment, shock briefly crossing his face before chuckling. Eyes lighting up with mirth.

And you think 'damn him, he's not ugly at all.'

Annoyed, you return the plushie back to the shelf with force.

You're still petulant as you continue to look around afterwards, and he seems to relish in the way you stomp around heavy footed.

His apology comes hours later, when you're waiting at the food court. In the form of some greasy junk food you demanded in one hand; the plushie you squealed over and he physically recoiled at, in the other.

"To remind you of me," he smirks.

That night, as you lay awake with the plushie in your arms. You also think 'damn it, it does remind you of him.'

And squeeze it tighter to your body.

[hedgiwithapen]

DHD: Stargate, anyone(s) on SG1 gets telepathy. Hammond and/or Janet with telepathy also entirely acceptable.

Headaches came with command, George knew well. Every time he’d been promoted, his wife had cooked a celebratory meal and upsized the bottle of aspirin in the medicine  cabinet. But it was largely metaphorical headaches he had to deal with, or headaches walking around in human bodies, like certain unnamed members of SGs 1, 3, and 5.  Mostly 1. Little frustrations, bigger frustrations, and concerns, and worries that were easier to label as a headache and move on. Being a little tired and overworked was part of the job of running the SGC, and it was worth a headache now and again to keep his family--his country--his planet-- safe. This headache, though, felt like his first ever hangover, back when he’d been young and stupid and unsupervised. “General?” Major Carter asked. He blinked at her, trying to recall what exactly her report had been about. Something about the trees on a planet--no, that wasn’t right. The bees? No…badgers? Badgers sounded right. He glanced at the written report to confirm. Badgers. Not any weirder than  sentient water that had taken out so many Russians a few weeks back. “Yes?” he asked. “You have a question, Major?” “Sir, not to be blunt but are you ok?” she asked, “He doesn’t look well. I guess I wouldn’t either, with all the fuss Senator Kimsey is kicking up, he’s got an awful lot on his plate.” “I would appreciate it, Major, if you didn’t refer to me in the third person,” he grit out, waving a hand at her obvious dismay.  “I’m fine, just a headache. You’re dismissed.” “Sir,” she acknowledged, though George could hear her muttering about oddness and doubting the headache ‘story.’ As if he was lying about the pounding in his head. It wasn’t like Cater, and George let himself wonder for a moment that Colonel O’Neill had rubbed off a little too much on his team. The headache lessened, some, as he read over the report in the quiet of his office. It worsened again when someone tapped at his door. “Come in,” he barked. The sooner he dealt with whatever emergency Dr. Frasier had uncovered, the sooner he could try to take a little catnap. “General Hammond,” Dr. Frasier smiled. “I was just speaking with Sam, and she expressed some concerns. Could you tell me a little about your symptoms? Headache? Migraine? Brain tumor?” “For heaven’s sake,” George said, feeling a little like Jack. “ I do not have a brain tumor.” “I see,” Dr. Frasier frowned. “I think Sam was right. Telepathy.” “Telepathy?” George squinted at her. “Dr. Frasier, I don’t want to question your judgment, but that seems a little far fetched.” “I’d agree with you,” she said. “If I’d said my suspicions out loud.” “Oh,” he said, and really, what else was there to say? Ah, right. “ How on earth did I…” “Could have been something brought back from that planet, something in the mind that resists our decontamination…of course, no one else seems to have come down with it. I’m sure Daniel will be eager to go back and find out. For now, as your doctor, I suggest you get lots of rest, and avoid crowds. He’s here practically around the clock, maybe it’s a good time to see--” “You think I should go home? Like this? Doctor, I have two very sweet granddaughters approaching middle school. The last thing I want to know is what’s in their heads.” She laughed. “Understandable. I’ll tell everyone to leave you be.” “No, wait,” he stopped her. “See if O’Neill and Harriman can be spared.” “Can I ask why?” George pulled out a deck of cards. “I want to see how far I can take this. Since I’m officially off duty per your orders and all.” “Get pictures,” Dr. Frasier laughed again. “We’re all going to want to see the look on Jack’s face. Good luck, sir.” 

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Customer Service: Where Character A works Customer Service at a restaurant/business and Character B and their child are customers. Character A first notices a really cute kid only to notice that, hey, the parent is actually very beautiful too. What the hell?

So this is actually my first Dungeon Meshi fic and the fact that it's a modern AU is a nice little callback to my first Bagginshield fic being a modern AU oneshot. So I hope you guys enjoy and I did these characters justice.

Cooking is Better with Company

Ship: Pots n' Picks (Chilchuck/Senshi)

Rating: G

Warning(s): N/A

Words: 2534

Senshi’s dream had always been to own his own restaurant. Nothing too fancy. Just a small place full of comfort food for families to come and gather. It had taken a long time. Lots of clawing and fighting in his youth to get here, but finally The Golem’s Garden Bistro came to be. Senshi had a few hired hands to wait on the customer, but as for making the food? That pleasure belonged solely to him. Because of it, there wasn’t often a chance to go out and greet a customer personally. So when one found him, he was more than a little caught off-guard. 

“Whatcha doing?”

Senshi turned around, eyebrows jumping high on his head at the sight of the adorable little blonde girl with a wide grin.

“Making bread.” He answered. 

Somehow her grin grew even wider. “Can I help?”

Senshi hesitated. Clearly she belonged to someone in the dining room, and he would imagine they were looking everywhere for her. However, it has always been hard to resist a sweet little one. 

“Okay, but then you need to go back to your family. Alright?”

“Kay!” She squealed before running over to where Senshi stood.

Senshi looked around for something for her to stand on before finding a footstool Falin had to use sometimes to reach the top shelf in the storage room. She still stood a bit shorter than the countertop, but at least she was able to peer over it to see what Senshi was doing. They made sure to wash her hands clean, as all good cooks do, he explained. Then he would pull off bits of dough to have her squish into a ball and put in the pan. They continued on in this way, finding their own little rhythm as Senshi put the rolls in the oven to cook.

“Now while we wait, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

She took a deep breath before launching into the longest spew of words in the shortest amount of time that Senshi had ever heard. Apparently her name was Puckpatti, and she had a mom, a dad, and two sisters. Her favorite color was purple, and her favorite animal was dragons. Senshi smiled and hummed or agreed in the appropriate place as he took the rolls out of the oven, and listened to her tell him about her favorite class at school and why. That’s when the kitchen door opened once more. Senshi looked over expecting to see Laios or Marcille back for their orders, but instead it was another little girl with red braids staring back at them before turning and shouting into the dining room.

“I FOUND HER, PAPA! SHE’S COOKING IN THE KITCHEN!”

It wasn’t seconds later that the door banged open again and a small red headed man came running in. Senshi blinked in surprise. He had one of those boyish faces that belied his age if the strands of gray in his hair was anything to go off. His eyes were dark and soul-sucking, even caught in a panic like he was now. Senshi didn’t know if he had ever seen a more beautiful man in his life.

“Patti! Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” He cried, gripping the young girl by her arms.

“But Papa, I was making rolls with Mr. Senshi.” She cooed.

“And you!” The man turned towards Senshi. “What do you think you’re doing? I’ve been half scared out of my mind and you’re back here keeping my daughter from me!”

“But I…” Senshi began before he was cut off.

“No!” The man snapped, holding his hand out in front of him. “Don’t even bother making excuses. If this is the kind of business you’re running, you’ve seen the last of us! Come on Patti.”

“But Papa, you haven’t tried one of our rolls.” Patti pouted.

The man hesitated at seeing her hurt expression before grabbing one of the finished rolls off the counter. He took a large angry bite only to melt a moment later in bliss. Senshi felt himself blush having never gotten to experience someone’s reaction to his food firsthand. The man finished off the roll, licking the butter off his fingers, when he realized Senshi was watching him. His face turned a delightful shade of red before he grabbed both his daughters by their hands.

“Say goodbye, Patti.” He grumbled.

Not the least bit put out by her father’s mood, the little blonde turned back to Senshi with a wide grin.

“Bye, Mr. Senshi! See you next time!”

With that the door closed behind the family, and for a moment Senshi just stood there utterly bewildered by the whirlwind that he experienced. It was a shame he never caught the man’s name, but he figured he was probably never going to see him again anyways. No use lamenting over something he would never get to have anyways. Senshi finished up the bread and moved on to making potstickers. For the first time, he found himself actually aware of the silence closing in around him. Perhaps it would be good for him to interact more with the customers. He didn’t realize how starved he was for chatter until Patti burst into his life. Resolved to make more of an effort to get out of the kitchen every once in a while, Senshi went back to pouring his all into his food. 

***

The next day came and went, and Senshi never left the kitchen. Nor the day after that, nor the day after that. Turns out it was hard to break the habit now that he had it, and the temporary loneliness he had felt had now passed. It had been nice getting to know Patti, but he was fine. Everything about his life was fine. It was almost exactly one week later as Senshi was frying up some tempura when he was greeted by another little voice.

“Hello, Mr. Senshi! Can I help?”

He turned, expecting to see Patti, but this was a different little girl with dark hair and a soft, shy smile. Senshi had learned his lesson though. 

“Why don’t you run back to your parents?” He offered instead.

Suddenly, her smile turned into a pout with puffed out cheeks.

“Patti got to cook with you!” The little girl complained.

Senshi blinked. “You’re Patti’s sister?” 

“Yeah! My name’s Flertom.” She introduced, her smile returning for only a moment before she looked up at him with big pleading eyes. “Please, Mr. Senshi. I just want to help for a little bit.”

Senshi really should say no. There was no way he would let the little girl around the fryer anyways. Besides that, he didn’t want to give her father any more reason to come back here, puffed up and irritated…Of course, now that he thought about it, it would be a great way to see him again. Senshi finally relented, catching Laios to have him give the ‘small red headed man’ a message that his daughter was back here. 

Senshi knew that would buy him at least twenty minutes as Laios could get very distracted, so he had Flertom help him dip the tempura in its batter, and then he carefully put it in the fryer for her. Her eyes grew big when they came out all nice and golden brown, and he praised her work on making sure the coating was even. Sure enough they had just finished when the door flew open.

“Flertom! What are you doing?! You said you were just going to the bathroom.” The man demanded.

“I did.” She explained, hopping off her stool. “And then I came in to help Mr. Senshi. Try a bite, Papa! It’s so good.”

Senshi held out a section of the tempura to the man who’s dark eyes seemed to be trying to glare holes into him. Finally, he snatched the piece and popped it into his mouth. His expression all but melted as he turned his head away from Senshi.

“It’s very good.” He grumbled.

“I’m glad you like it!” He stated happily. “And I’m glad you came back.”

The man turned and opened his mouth like he was going to say something, before shaking his head and grabbing Flertom’s hand. She waved goodbye to him all the way until the door shut behind them. Senshi let out a small laugh. He was starting to get used to these little visits. He wondered what the man’s favorite dish was? Maybe he could have it ready for him next time. 

***

Senshi waited the next week for some adorable little girl to poke her head in his kitchen, only to be disappointed. He even poked his head out into the dining room a couple of times, but couldn’t catch sight of the family. Maybe he really did scare him off for good that time. Senshi tried to find his rhythm again around his disappointment, but he was reminded again of the loneliness of his situation. Even Marcille was asking after him to make sure everything was okay. Senshi’s food still was amazing, he would never sink so low to serve a subpar meal, but he started to realize he didn’t have a life outside of this restaurant. Perhaps he should take Laios up on his offer to play tabletop with them at some point?

In any case, Senshi didn’t have much hope for the next week until he turned to see three beaming faces staring up at him.

“Hello, Mr. Senshi!” The girls greeted in unison.

Senshi chuckled in relief. “Welcome back! Does your father know where you are?”

“He is aware.” A voice sighed.

Senshi turned to see the red haired man enter the kitchen, rubbing the back of his head as he refused to make eye contact. 

“Don’t suppose you could use some helping hands? They were rather insistent.”

Senshi beamed brightly before assuring him he would love to have the company. Senshi and the other man helped the girls wash their hands before Senshi set them up with making rolls, asking Patti if she remembered how. She assured him she did, and Senshi watched for a little bit before feeling confident that the girls would be able to shape the rolls with no problem. He handed over his knife to the father.

“How handy are you at chopping vegetables?”

“Less than I care to admit, but yeah. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Senshi watched him for a moment before coming up behind him and moving his hand into a more optimal position. The man tensed t before allowing Senshi to manipulate his movements. 

“You won’t wear yourself out this way.” Senshi explained, moving away.

“Yeah, thanks.” The man stated, his cheeks reddened.

Strange. Senshi didn’t think it was that warm in here. Of course, he’s certainly gotten used to it over the years. 

“I’m Senshi, by the way.” He introduced as he molded the dumplings.

“Chilchuck.” The man responded.

Chilchuck. It suited him. 

“You weren’t here last week.” Senshi remarked as casually as he could.

“Yeah, their mother wanted to take them on a trip last weekend so we switched around my weeks with them.”

Senshi blinked as he zoned in on the placement of his words. Their mother. Switched weeks. He had a better idea as to Chilchuck’s relationship status at least. Something that certainly settled nicely within him.

“And you come here every time you have the girls?” Senshi asked in genuine awe.

Chilchuck seemed to take it as more of a criticism as his hand tightened around the knife in his hand.

“It’s good food in decent quantities at an affordable price.” He snapped. “It’s not like I take them out for fast food all the time.”

Senshi tried to repress a shudder and failed. Oh no, he certainly couldn’t do that. Nutrition was important for the little ones, and it was something Senshi always prided himself in his food. Good tasting and good for you. Senshi spared a glance towards Chilchuck who still seemed to be bitter over the conversation. He felt a small smile grace his lips. He was clearly a good father, he just didn’t seem to know how to ask for help.

“I could teach you.” Senshi offered.

“Teach me?” Chilchuck repeated, his brows furrowed.

“To cook.” 

Chilchuck smirked. “You mean my superb chopping skills haven’t wowed you yet.”

Senshi kindly pushed him aside as he took the knife out of his hand and had the vegetables chopped within seconds. The smaller man blinked in surprise as Senshi dumped the ingredients into his stir fry without spilling a single onion. 

“You’re getting there.” He encouraged.

The corner of Chilchuck’s mouth curled. “Show-off.” He accused.

“Mr. Senshi! Mr. Senshi!” The girls cheered. “We finished!”

Senshi put the slightly protesting Chilchuck in charge of the stir-fry despite his exclamations of it being hot as he checked on the girls’ work. He held his thumb up. 

“Well done! Now it just needs a brush of butter and to go into the oven.”

They cheered and giggled and promised to watch the oven closely and let him know the minute the rolls developed a nice brown top. Senshi slid in beside Chilchuck, gently extracting the pan and spoon from him as he tossed everything into the air and caught it again before plating it up. He called out for Laios, Fallin, and Marcille to take the dishes out to the customers, which they did only after giving the family in Senshi’s kitchen an odd look.

“I noticed you’re not open on Mondays.”

Senshi spun around to see Chilchuck had his hands crossed behind the back of his head, his eyes staring off into the distance. 

“Got to go home at some point.” Senshi responded.

Chilchuck smirked at him before he averted his gaze again. “I was thinking…it might be a good time to take you up on your offer.”

“What offer?” Senshi replied automatically as he began steaming the dumplings he made.

He could feel the annoyance rolling off Chilchuck’s tongue without even turning around to look. 

“The offer to help me learn how to cook.”

Senshi blinked in surprise, his movements stilling. Oh. 

“I would like to be able to make something for when the girls aren’t around and it would probably be easier on my wallet in the long run.” 

Senshi spun around catching sight of the fetching pink spreading out across Chilchuck’s cheeks. He grinned happily as that feeling of loneliness evaporated completely.

“I would truly enjoy that.”

Chilchuck smiled for a small moment, his eyes bright and shining, when the girls declared the bread to be done. Senshi rushed over to take it out of the oven, and as the smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, he found himself with four identical gazes of near-drooling reverence. Considering orders had slowed down, Senshi set them up a little spot out of the way where they were able to enjoy the bread and dumplings they helped make. As the family made little pleased noises with every bite, Senshi vowed to determine what their favorite foods were and make it for them as long as he was able. 

[gumnut-logic]

Found this Scott and Em Harris 'discussion' on my hard drive.

Em Harris is an OC from Gentle Rain.

Language warning for this as she is not happy at all.

-o-o-o-

“I’m just trying to keep you from dying! Don’t you see that? I care about you and you are the last person I ever want to see dead out there, so just fucking listen to me for once!”

Scott blinked at the fire in her words. He would have taken a step back, but he was held by his seat in One, its safety harness and back preventing him from moving an inch away from the fury of his wife.

Em hovered in front of him, the white of her medical baldric glaring at him. It had stains. Some identifiable, some not so much. But all of which he wished he could have protected her from.

But he couldn’t.

Because she was who she was and there was no way he could hold her back from helping people any more than he could himself. If there was one thing they both shared, it was that.

Her determination was what made her so beautiful.

“Emaline-“

“No!” She held up a hand. “You don’t get to speak after a stupid stunt like that. All you had to do was wait for Virgil.”

“There wasn’t time!”

“Another thirty seconds, Scott! If Virgil hadn’t caught you, YOU WOULD BE DEAD!” Her pale blue eyes electrified with a mixture of fury and fear. “I almost lost you! For no reason!”

“A life was saved!”

“Virgil nearly missed the both of you! He has enough bruising from his leap off that cliff after you to inspire his next painting. Kay is going to kick your ass, flyboy.”

Scott swallowed. Kayo he could handle, but he hadn’t realised Virgil had been hurt. “Is Virgil okay?”

Em sighed and looked down a moment before looking him in the eye. “No. No, he is not. You owe him an apology.”

As if he was aware of his name being mentioned, Virgil’s calm voice issued over comes. “Thunderbird Two departing danger zone. Transporting injured to Capetown Medical and returning to base.”

The line cut out before Scott could reply. The lack of personal address or even his callsign was enough to illustrate exactly how much shit he was in with his brother.

“Scott, please.” And suddenly the anger in her voice was gone. “Why? Why is your life not worth as much to you as it is to me?”

She wasn’t crying, but there was so much grief in her voice, he had to reach out and pull her to him.

There was resistance at first. She was as stubborn as she was determined to the point of the words being synonyms.  But then, as light as she always was, he drew her into his arms, hoverscoot rising at an angle and their baldrics clattering as they met. Her head landed on his shoulder and he held her there, stroking the nape of her neck where her hair bun left it bare.

“I’m sorry.” It was an exhalation.

“Please don’t do that again.” It was muffled into his uniform.

“Em, you know I can’t guar-“

It was exactly the wrong thing to say. She flung herself backwards, pulling away. Practised reflexes let her go out of respect, but he grabbed at her again. No!

She didn’t let him reach her, her hoverjets humming almost as angrily as her expression.

“No, Scott Tracy, you can guarantee. You can tell me that you will wait. You can tell me that you will consider. You will tell me that you trust your brothers’ knowledge and experience. And you can tell me that I am important enough in your life for you to not give up that life in a situation that can be easily avoided.” She drew in a breath. “If you can’t value your own life enough yourself, then value it for me.” A breath. “I love you, Scott…please.”

Every rule, every philosophy, every self determination screamed at him to deny her. The thought of putting his life above others was anathema. But his strategic mind flipped the equation without permission and he saw his actions from her point of view.

His brain listed off his abilities, how he should have been able to handle the situation safely.

And how it had all gone so far south so quickly, and how only the quick actions of his engineer brother had prevented a very long plummet down a very high cliff.

His first thought had been gratitude and admiration for his brother’s skill and the fact the rescue was a successful one.

He didn’t register Virgil’s grunts as anything other than simple exertion. Now looking back, now he didn’t have his arms full of terrified rescuee, he could take a moment to examine exactly what had happened.

Virgil hadn’t said a thing.

He had rappelled them back up the cliff. It had been all business and as the adrenalin had waned, Scott had just felt tired. Em took the rescuee into Two and after a silent scan with Virgil’s mediscanner, Scott had returned to One.

It was just another rescue almost gone wrong.

Virgil had just saved the day…again.

What if he had waited? Would the man have fallen?

His heart feared what would have happened if he did. That was why he had jumped himself despite the fragility of the rockface.

He looked up at his beautiful wife. “I don’t know if I can stand by and risk a death I can prevent.”

Her lips thinned, but her eyes were sad. “Neither can I.” She drew in a breath. “Commander Scott Tracy, as Lead Medical Officer of International Rescue, I’m citing you for reckless self-endangerment and recommending psychological review.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“I can’t lose you, Scott.” Little more than breath. “Not like this.

“I just can’t.”

-o-o-o-

[racinginchid3nt]

Happier Than Ever | Part One

Y/N x Pierre Gasly, Y/N Best Friend x Lance Stroll

Whirlwind romances with professional athletes certainly have their perks, or do they?

Inspired by Happier Than Ever - Billie Eilish

Warnings: mentions of spa history

Previous | Next

Masterlist

————————————————————————

You had been an F1 fan for as long as you could remember. Growing up nearly every weekend had been dedicated to free practice, qualifying, and Grand Prix. Of course when you grow up in Spain, home of the great Fernando Alonso, it was hard to not watch. You had vivid memories of watching him win the drivers championship twice when you were in primary school. And after him came Carlos Sainz, now one of the Ferrari golden boys.

So when you got the chance to attend the Spanish Grand Prix for work last year, you had of course agreed. The tech company you worked for had partnerships in lots of sports, and fancy corporate tickets came with them. You knew going in that you might get to meet a driver or two, but you certainly didn’t expect what happened. A flirty conversation and the exchange of contact information that turned into a whirlwind romance with a certain French driver that changed your life in the blink of an eye.

It took only four months before he asked if you would stop working. You could move in with him, spending the year flying around the world to beautiful destinations. He would support you financially of course, aware you would need spending money. It had taken some convincing, having been working for nearly a decade. But when he wanted to he could be incredibly persuasive. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity he said.

And while you worried about the chance of everything crashing and burning, you hoped the experience would still be worth it. Plus, what if it all worked out? What a story to tell your future kids.

The thing with relationships like this though, was as quickly as they could come together, they could fall apart. Tensions ran high between the both of you, traveling wearing on you and constantly competing on him. The season had been rough for him, Alpine so different to Alpha Tauri.

That was how you found yourselves arguing in a hotel room in Hungary. A double DNF for Alpine meant missing important constructors championship points, but also meant that the gap between Pierre and Esteban was closer than either would like.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Pierre! Obviously I’m not happy you DNFed!”

“Noooo of course notttt. Because that would mean you would need to care!” He yelled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“No you are! I don’t understand how you can’t admit that you’re wrong!”

“Because I’m not fucking in the wrong Pierre! I congratulated Charles. He raced well.”

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion with you. You’re so fucking obtuse sometimes.” He replied. Walking to the door he slammed it as he left.

Falling into the bed you wondered how this had become your routine. How the sweet man you fell in love with over video calls and what’s app messages could get so angry about such stupid things. It was just the adrenaline, you told yourself. He would be back in the morning, a bouquet of flowers and breakfast in his hands, apologizing profusely.

And when you woke the next morning you found that you were right.

————————————————————————

You had been raised to expect the royal treatment from your boyfriends. Your father made sure of that before he passed.

That was how you found yourself calling your best friend a few days later, asking her to come to the Belgian GP, Pierre’s treat. You knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the paddock passes. Formula One had been one of things the two of you bonded over in primary school. And as you grew up and went of to university together, spending your Sunday mornings hungover on the couch in your crappy student accommodations while you watched the races had become your routine.

It was her first time attending a race in person, and you were determined to make it the best possible experience. You brought her along to every day of the race weekend.

Sunday had come around quickly, and the excitement battled against the dread within you. It was raining, the track slick. Spa was notorious for rain, but when combined with the high speed turns and hills it made for an unsafe situation. Pierre had been silent that morning as he got around for the race.

You weren’t sure how to comfort him. How could you when you would never understand the pain that racing her year after year brought? He turned in on himself, seeking out the privacy of his drivers room to methodically follow his pre race routine. Giving him that privacy, you spent the morning with Y/N Best Friend. When the race started, you sent up a silent prayer that everything would be okay.

That was how you found yourself having a panic attack in the Alpine garage after the crash between Carlos and Oscar. As you hyperventilated into your best friends arms, she dragged you away from the garage and back to the nearly empty energy suite. You listened to the race commentary from the bathroom, having locked yourself in and unable to watch.

When the checkered flag flew and the race was declared finished, you took the first full breathe you had all day. He had made it. He was okay. Oscar and Carlos were okay. Charles was okay. Yuki was okay. Everyone was fine. Pulling yourself together and cleaning off your smeared mascara, you made your way out to Y/N Best Friend. She sat patiently on one of the couches, watching the podium on the nearby tv screen.

A text came through from Pierre, telling you that there would be extra media today and that he would meet you back at the hotel. Tonight marked the start of the summer break. As the two of you headed out to the car, you talked your best friend through the nights plans. A bunch of the drivers were going to a club in the city, the night to be filled with drinking and dancing.

The boys so rarely got to let loose during the season, so you knew tonight would be a fun one. And you also knew that Y/N Best Friend could use to let loose as well. You had teased her about the possibility of getting a good hookup in during the weekend. The drivers were all in incredible shape, so went the life of a professional athlete, and you knew she had been single for that past year since her and her ex broke up when he left Spain for a job opportunity after uni ended. Having left her alone these past few months, you knew your introverted best friend had rarely been out, and certainly hadn’t meant anyone.

As you looked back on that trip a little over a month later, on the events that came out of that night, you wondered how things could turn to shit so quickly.

————————————————————————

A/N: This first part is a short one. The story is a spin off to my other story, Id Probably Still Adore You. You do not need to read that one first for this one to make sense, but certain topics will be addressed in more depth in that one.

I’m not currently sure how frequently updates on this one will come out, as that one remains my primary piece right now.

[auspicioustidings]

Aahhh!! Just read your Doll and Gary post, could you give us some more background on them? God I love Roach so much and seeing you work him into this angsty plot is making me kick my feet and giggle but also cry bc, well, 🪦🥲🙏🏽🕊

Were Doll and Gary friends? Lovers? Were they taken at the same time? Or was one captured first, and then the other abducted bc of their importance to the first one? Did they have to watch as the other was tortured? Does Doll know Gary is dead?

I'm rattling the bars of my cage, I need to KNOW-

Please!! 🙏🏽😩

So if she did in fact know Gary and that's who she is crying for then I think they met in the Shadows hide out.

She was actually taken to fuck with him. Graves just asked them to go find some innocent birdie for him to torture to see if that would get Roach talking. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was pretty apparent to her that whatever this was, they were using her to get to this guy. So even when she was pinned down and used in front of him she kept telling him that it wasn't his fault, that he shouldn't tell these assholes a damn thing.

Before she was Doll, she was a hell of a fighter. Gary fell in love with her in that awful interrogation room over the months they tried to use her to get him to talk. Since it was better for Graves if they bonded he made them share a cell. They eventually found comfort in each others bodies deep in the dark of night, the trauma bond making them both fall hard and fast.

Her being dollified wasn't even to torment Roach. It was sheer jealousy. Graves watched them fall in love and hated it, coveted her for himself. She was there one day, gone the next and nobody would tell Roach where she went. Graves was so jealous that he didn't even want him to ever see her again, even if he did ever manage to make her his doll. Part of him knew the brainwashing would not hold up against him.

Roach deteriorated pretty quickly after he lost her. Graves should have pushed him, tried to use his misery to get info, but his interests were conflicted. So instead he used Roach's murder to finally break her into Doll. She resisted for so long, but that was the thing that did it. But it was a case of being careful what you wish for. Graves never got the version of her that Roach got, the real person who genuinely loved him. So it was sheer spite to send her away to the 141 because they'd never get her either.

Doll does not know Roach is dead, because Doll never had him. That's why she is Doll, because if she wasn't then she'd have to remember him and remember his burned body. But she cries out at night because when she is sleeping she remembers who she was and she remembers what she's lost.

[tennessoui]

kit’s foray into another star wars ship (dinluke)

is kit a) expanding her horizons, b) running from her responsibilities, or c) inspired by that fan art of force ghost anakin hugging r2d2 (linked when found) and me thinking ok what if luke is trying to do run-of-the-mill maintenance on artoo but force ghost anakin won’t stop trying to suggest what needs fixing so they’re just bickering back and forth over droid engineering and din walks in to visit his kid and just sees luke arguing with thin air and starts thinking maybe he left grogu in the care of a madman

(so far just 1k, but here’s the first 800)

Din lives his life by one very important creed.

Alright, two very important creeds.

The first is the one that he grew up with, mantra stamped across the back of his eyelids, words imprinted in his brain. The Way of the Mandalore is a way of honor, and it serves as pillar, foundation, and guiding stone of his life.

The second creed Din obeys is not ingrained into his mind by anyone but himself, and he’s fucking shit at following it.

It’s the Do Not Get Involved Unless You’re Dragged Into The Fight Kicking and Screaming creed, and it goes hand in hand with the principles of Do Not Start Fights You Cannot End Within Twenty Seconds and For the Love of the Stars, Djarin, Don’t Go Around Poking Sleeping Krayt Dragons.

Alright. If he’s being honest, this is less of a creed and more of an aspiration, but he tries to abide by its tenets, and, it has to be said, for a good portion of his life, he does. 

And then he finds the kid.

And then the kid becomes his kid, which is an adjustment he’s dragged into kicking and screaming, and it definitely involves a lot of fights that last a whole lot longer than twenty seconds.

And trying to find a Jedi in a galaxy as big and strange as this one? Apparently it involves a lot more sleeping Krayt Dragons than Din’s second creed accounted for.

But finding one—or, one finding them as it may be—well. No creed Din knows prepared him for how it felt to watch his kid be taken away from him. It’d been the optimal future, the end result he’d been gunning for for months: return the kid to his people.

There. Done. Returned. Package received.

Din’s been around long enough that successful bounties and completed contracts don’t tend to fill him with a warm rush of satisfaction anymore.

But this is the first that’s ever left him feeling hollow.

—-------------

“What’s been eating at you, Mando?” Karga asks. 

Din scowls and resists the urge to shift his weight. “Nothing.”

Karga raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the cooling purple drink in front of him.

“You wanted the Imp,” Din says when the silence stretches from pointed into weighted. “Here’s the Imp.”

He nudges the head further across the table.

“I wanted the Imp for questioning,” Karga says very slowly. “Ideally with his vocal cords attached.”

Oh. Din glances down at the bloody bag. “Oh.”

He doesn’t try to sound very apologetic, which only seems to make Karga’s exasperation grow.

“So I ask again. What’s eating you, Mando?”

“Right now, bounties with unclear parameters.”

“Right now, you’ve only earned half the bounty, and that’s because I’m a generous man who considers you a friend. Now I can see ourselves coming to agreement on what you’re owed—if you tell me what’s on your mind.”

Behind the safety of his helmet, Din scowls harder. “Friend.”

Greef kicks the chair across from him out and tilts his cup towards it. “Friend.”

—-----------

Two hours later, Din is thoroughly convinced he used his glowing new Darksaber to sever the wrong person’s head.

Greef hasn’t stopped laughing in the last ten minutes. The man’s red in the face, alternating between pounding his fist on the table and leaning against his new marshal. Dune, for her part, is expressing the highest amount of mirth Din’s ever seen as she hiccups with glee into her third drink. 

He’s really starting to calculate the probability of successfully taking Karga’s coin purse off him now that he’s distracted, when the man finally chokes out whole words.

“Worried the Jedi’s too violent to raise the little green guy!”

Din crosses his arms over his chest.

Dune roars with laughter. 

Din doesn’t think it’s very funny. The Jedi sliced through the ranks of Dark troopers within mere seconds, as if they were no threat at all. It’d been impressive. The man—the Jedi—had been impressive. Din was impressed by his skill when he had the space to feel anything outside the devastation of losing the kid.

But a man that versed in violence doesn’t learn those sorts of skills without being surrounded by death and destruction for years.

And Din just gave his kid over to be raised in that kind of environment? 

Was Grogu even safe? Was he alive? Was the Jedi even lookin—

“The bounty hunter thinks the kid’s new home is too violent,” Karga cackles. “The guy—the guy who just brought me a man’s head in a pouch is worried about the little green guy’s new—-”

Dune snorts out her drink, she’s laughing so hard, and Din stands to leave.

If he knicks Karga’s coin purse on his way out the cantina, then hey. 

What are friends for?

[emotionallyattachednerd]

IDEAS AND PROMPTS

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Imposter | TP Wheeljack/Makeshift x f!robot reader

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Hi can you write Tarn x female cybertronian reader (smut) thanks if you do

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yandere

yandere (plural yanderes) (chiefly Japanese fiction) A character, usually a girl, who has an obsessive and possessive side in regards to their crush, ready to use violent and murderous means to maintain an exclusive bond.

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Reader's sparkling is taken by their sire, Starscream, and with no other choice she goes back to the life she was trying to get away from.

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⬇️ Writing Own Work Queue ⬇️

Play Nice | Cyberverse Dead End x f!robot reader

Storm's Heat Part 2 | IDW Drift/Deadlock x f!robot reader

Shattered Mirror | IDW x SG | NSFW 18+

Prompts

creativepromptsforwriting

Sixteen Sinful Sentences

"Oh, is that how you like it?"

"You are such a tease!"

"No touching right now. That comes later."

"Think you can handle that?"

"You're so very tempting..."

"How do you like that?"

"I don't think you've had enough already."

"Someone should punish you for that."

"You can be a bit rougher if you want."

"I want you to be louder, my love."

"Please, mark me."

"Tell me exactly what you want."

"I want to make you mine."

"Yes, please keep doing that."

"The night's definitely not over yet."

"I believe I could make you do it."

-

“Just close your eyes. I will still be here when you open them again.”

“Sure, you can use me as a pillow.”

“I’d come for you. No matter what, when you need me, I will be there.”

“Can you walk? I’d be happy to carry you.”

“This is not who you are. I know you better than that.”

“I know, it hurts. I’m so sorry, but we have to get this out.”

“You can hold my hand.”

“The nightmares are just an illusion. I’m really here.”

“Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

“It’s okay to be afraid sometimes.”

“Just keep breathing. In and out. You’re doing great.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“It’s alright. I’m not going to let go.”

“Show me where it hurts.”

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

“You can go to sleep now. I will keep watch.”

“Hey, listen to me. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

“I want you to know that it’s okay to cry.”

“Take all the time you need.”

“If you feel safer with me being there, you know I will always be there.”

“Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

“They won’t take you away from me ever again.”

“You need to keep your eyes open. Just a little longer.”

“Don’t let your fears dictate your life.”

“I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.”

Pairings from lonetile

IDW!Kaon

IDW!Ultar Mgsuna aka Minimus Ambus

G1!Skywarp and G1!Thundercracker

IDW!Megatron

IDW!Swerve

TFP!Predaking

Something Reckless Part 2 ❙ ES Breakdown x f!human reader ❙ NSFW 18+

Earthspark Breakdown X f!human reader . Something Recless Part 2 Breakdown is struggling through PTSD and reader wants to help.

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TFP - Shockwave x f!robot reader - Non-con

TFP - synth!Ratchet x reader

TFP - Megatron x f!robot reader - Dub-con

TFP - Knock Out x Breakdown x f!robot reader - Dub-con

TFP - Wheeljack X f!human reader Strip Tease - Inspiration

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IDW - Decepticon Deadlock x f!human reader - Dub-con Reader is Deadlock's pet. She's safe with him and he's protective over her. She knows it wrong to feel this attached to him but she can't help herself. He likes to play with her, at first she tries to resist it, but eventually lets him, because she can't resist his touches or the pleasure he gives her. Also it keeps him happy, and it's always better when he's happy.

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IDW - Tarn x f!robot reader - Non-con Reader offers herself to save a good friend of hers who was on their list. Tarn accepts. Instead of punishment though, she's kept as his personal pleasure bot.

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IDW - Misfire x f!robot x Fulcrum

IDW - Kup x f!robot

IDW - Skywarp x f!human reader - Non-con Baced on the 2023 comic of Skywarp chasing a human.

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G1 - Seekers x f!robot reader prisoner - Non-con

G1 Soundwave X f!robot reader

G1 Starscream X f!human reader - Non-con

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EARTHSPARK

Sorry Brother ❙ NSFW ❙ Breakdown x F/reader x Past Bumblebee

Bumblebee and reader use to date, but he left her to keep her safe from Ghost, but she didn’t know this and is hurt. Breakdown looks out for her, being her best friend that turns into something more. After the mandroid events Bumblebee explains and apoligizes to reader, which she accepts and wants to be friends, but Bumeblebee still loves her. One day he goes to see her, only to walk in on her and Breakdown interfacing. Only Breakdown saw and Bumblee left in a hurry. Afterwards Breakdown finds him and explains. They argue, but they’re still brothers, right? Bumblebee is hurt, but he doesn’t blame Breakdown, he blames himself for screwing up. He tells him to take care of reader, no matter what, and if he veer hurt her he’ll come after him, in which Breakdown responces with sorry brother, we good? Yeah, we’re good.

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Reunion ❙ NSFW ❙ Swindle x f!robot reader x Hardtop

Word count:

Warnings: Threesome, smut, valueplug and oral. NSFW 18+

Notes: This came through an anon ask, however silly me deleted that ask. This was something completely different but I rathered enjoyed it. So anon, hope you like and thanks for sending in your ask.

When the humans managed to track you down and capture you, you never thought such small organics could overpower you, yet they did. Being in hiding on a planet you were stuck on wasn’t really much

“Now, sweet spark, how about you come snuggle with us now?” Swindle sugested, patting the free space between him and Hardtop.

You’ve missed your favourite mechs so much. Crawling over, you settle yourself between them, allowing their servos to still roam across your sensitive frame while you let out a delightful purr.

“I’m a pretty lucky femme.” You say through a gentle voice.

“And we’re two pretty lucky mechs.” Hardtop added.

Indeed, very lucky.

-

PAYING COMMISSIONS

Requests These are free, however are not a priority, and only written for fun and in my own time. Each request can be 1K+ words, depending on my motivation.

Coffee tips are welcome ☕

Commissions If you wish for something with your own OC, perhaps this is an option to consider. At a price I'll provide you with a well written story. However, I'll be selective, as I won't force myself to write something I don't feel comfortable with, and I have the right ot decline if I choose. We can discuss more through dm's, and I'll keep a connected communication with you. I do have a life so the time it'll take me to work on paid projects.

5k+ Words = $20 - 1+ Week/s 10k+ Words = $40 - 2+ Week/s 20K+ Words = $60 - 1+ Month/s

Payments are made directly through Ko-Fi ☕

[forgedroyalseal]

His Worst Nightmare

Chapter Six

Lady Pauline was not a violent woman. She knew that words held more power than fists and that the pen was mightier than the sword. She truly believed that there was never a problem that couldn’t be avoided with diplomacy if properly addressed.

She was also sixty seconds away from throwing Halt into a moat.

“Tell me what happened O’Carrick or I swear to god I will make you regret ever meeting me!” Pauline’s hands twitched at her side, desperately wanted to run her hand through her hair in frustration. But she resisted. The carefully pin coils had taken the better part of an hour and it was not yet midday. She still had several meetings that she had to look somewhat presentable for.

“Leave it be Pauline. I don’t know how many times I have to say it!” Halt shouted. Before this week, he had never shouted at her. Now it seemed as though all he did was yell. Or cry, but he tried to pretend otherwise. The first couple days after Halt had moved into Redmont, he had been a silent shadow of himself. He hadn’t said a word about what prompted the move. Even now, all he ever said was that he wished to be left alone. But Pauline refused. She knew something bad had happened. Something horrific. Something that kept Halt awake each night if the purple bruises below his eyes were any indication. She had tried everything she could think of. She had been gentle. Reassuring. Kind. She had used every tactic to open communication she had been taught. She had been empathetic and supportive and patient. And now, she was being angry and pushy.

“Halt, please. You can’t just bottle this up like you try to do with every other emotion you have. This secret is killing you, and I for one refuse to watch it consume you.”

“Go away.” He growled

“Not happening.” She matched his tone.

There was a knock at the door and a familiar head of flaming hair appeared in the doorway. Pauline sighed in relief. “Finally, my reinforcements have arrived.”

“Lady Pauline, always a pleasure.” Crowley smiled before walking over to Halt. He crouched down in front of him so Halt was forced to look down into his eyes. “So, want to tell me what’s happened?”

“Go back to Castle Araluen Crowley.”

“That’s not happening until we get you sorted out. Now, if you won’t tell me as your friend, then you’ll have to tell me as your Commandant.”

“I resign.”

“I deny your resignation.”

“Crowley-“

“Pauline,” Crowley interrupts without breaking eye contact with Halt, “would you be dear and fetch Will? I’m afraid he’s the only other person who might be able to snake the story out of Halt and get him sorted.”

“No!” Halt leapt to his feet, eyes wide. “Leave him be.” The was a frantic note of panic in his voice and Pauline and Crowley shared a look. They had finally found the pressure point to lean on.

Crowley rose beside him, “Why? According to Gilan you said he’s hurt. Though it can’t be that bad since you’ve locked yourself in this room rather than helping Horace and Gilan take care of it. I’m sure he’s perfectly capable of making his way across town to come visit.”

“He’s not. He needs rest, not you two badgering him.”

“Will’s a sweet boy, he’ll be more than happy to check on you. He wouldn’t want you to be this upset, not if he can help.” Pauline reach out towards the door, but Halt lunged past her, slamming the door shut.

“Please, don’t bother him. Please.”

“Why not Halt? What’s happened to him? Why aren’t you with him?” Crowley’s voice was firm and authoritative.

“It’s my fault.” Halt’s resolve crumbled away with the words, the fight and anger leaving his body, replaced with waves of guilt. “I’m the one who hurt him.”

Pauline took his arm and gently steered them to the sofa. Crowley joined them and placed a hand on Halt’s shoulder. “Start at the beginning Halt. Tell us everything.”

And with a heavy sigh, he did. He spends the next hour describing every gruesome detail, unwilling to leave anything out, to minimize the roll he played in Will’s torture. He finishes with his letter to Horace and Will’s reaction to him once he finally came to. Fat tears ran down Crowley and Pauline’s faces, for Will condition of course, but also for the pain and guilt Halt carried.

“It’s not your fault.” Pauline grasped Halt’s hand in hers.

“Of course it is.” He pulled his hand away from her, clenching it into a fist. “I’m the one who hurt him. I’m the one he’s afraid of.”

Crowley began to protest but Halt cut him off. “And don’t say that it’s not my fault because I was forced. I’m the reason we were in that position to begin with. The man was after me. He wanted me to suffer, Will was just the means that he chose to do so. Time and time again Will has been hurt because of me, or because of the Corps. I should never have gotten involved in his life. Look at where it’s lead him.”

“Halt, Will chose to become a ranger. He put the work in, he fought for it. It’s what he wanted. He wasn’t forced into this life, and he certainly didn’t go in blind. Will is brave and has always wanted a life of adventure, if not with the rangers, then with the knights. Don’t discredit Will by pretending he wasn’t in control of his choices.” Crowley said firmly.

“And as for the matter of him being better off without your involvement,” Pauline added, “don’t forget how you found him. Orphaned, alone and scared. You provided with him sanctuary. You gave him a family. You saved him from a life as a nameless field worker and gave him a purpose. Don’t you dare wish all that away from him.”

“I don’t know how to fix this.” Halt admitted quietly.

“This isn’t something that can just be fixed. What’s done is done, the only thing we can do is support Will in anyway we can.” Pauline says. “And I promise that avoiding Will like he’s a leper isn’t supporting him.”

“We are all going to visit him first thing tomorrow. And I’m going to see if Rodney has any advice. He’s got more experience dealing with these type of injuries than I do.” Crowley stood, grateful to have a clear course of action.

Halt gives voice to his greatest fear. “What if he doesn’t want to see me? If he’s scared of me?”

“Then we try again the next day. And every day, until he’s ready to start mending the bond between you.” Pauline kisses Halt on the cheek. “Try to get some rest dear. We’ll be by in the morning.”

Once he was alone again, Halt moved towards the window and stared out to the forest’s edge, where he knew his little cabin stood, containing the most valuable thing in his life. Please give me chance Will. Please let me make this right.

[draftycastle]

The Language of Flowers: Reaction

In which: I am made to feel things, get mad about being made to feel things, gush over prose, fall in love with Lyra’s ability to portray emotion, talk starry existentialism, start two petitions and go on a tangent about miserably sad fools who are boring and beige.

Lyra Brie! You’ve thrown a fish hook down my throat and are pulling out my heart! It is very painful!

“I can't tell her that I still love her even if I can't touch her like I used to.”

Right off, you got down that feeling of when something so significant happens it cracks your foundations, changes something inside that makes it feel impossible to connect to people like you once did, no matter how much you want to, no matter how much love, it’s just to much pain to bear.

   “Mom still reaches out to touch me, instinctively”

Those instinctual habits from our love ones, that are well meaning, but haven’t caught up to the current reality, can be unmooring. We know they are meant with kindness, which’s adds all the more guilt to pain.

This whole first scene really hits home hard. Theres a theme of isolation here, the kind of isolation that comes from when you are so trapped inside yourself that you become a stranger, watching life from the outside in.

The inability and struggle to talk about traumatic events is a very real and raw experience that more people have than we care to think. Pain is a very hard thing to acknowledge. You also included the anger at a trauma for what it’s taken away from the person. This makes her feel very dimensional, and genuine to me. She’s not just a passive punching bag. She’s sitting there, fully realized and with feeling.

**

Scene two and my first thoughts: Libraries are such sanctuaries! The power of story!

   “Mom still believes I will just get better with time, the way she kept watering her wilted flowers thinking they would come back to life if she just cared enough”

Something something the way Our loved ones feel guilty for our pain, and then in our pain we feel guilty for their guilt.

“If only I could read, I could get out of this body, this tainted skin, for just a moment.” Then later “I was trying to escape my skin by crawling so deeply into myself that I was not part of my body anymore”

I think, many of us can relate very strongly to this urge for escapism. Why else would social media, video games, make up, Movie and Tv, fiction books ect be quite so popularly addicting? And then you also show us that disgust for the self after a traumatic event, even when what happened is not the fault of either us or our bodies.

“I resist the urge to hide…The second I make myself known to the people here, they will want to touch me.”

Aka “The mortifying ordeal of being known”

“Fix me, fix me, fix me, I want to scream. But I have no way to say anything.”

How badly do we want the pain to be taken away? How afraid are we of the pain it takes to heal?

“The smells of flowers and grass and early spring air fill me. This is what peace smells like.”

When I tell you I GASPED at this gorgeous bit of prose.

**

I appreciate how you don’t have her be immediately successful, immediately healed, as soon as she gives it her first try. How the power here lies in building trust, in choices, in her putting in the work of healing, and not just Love At First Sight Fixes All.

Pretty Boys are not cures!

**

“I can't decide if I hope he will or won't”

If that indecision isn’t a Mood.

“i don't want to be alone” will always get me.

“Would he ever be able to speak to me? This was lovely, right now, when we both believed I would be able to touch and communicate eventually. Would I, though? Even if I can use the flowers, that's still not the same. That's not my language”

You balance so many things so well in her: she has anger, hope, doubt, fear, grief ect. This juggling I think is what really gives this story’s emotional punches their strength.

**

“Statice sits on the ground next to me, trying to be close enough to be comforting without pushing my boundaries. I appreciate that.”

WE STAN A BOUNDRY RESPECTING KING!

Hes trying to comfort her on HER terms, in a way SHE wants, instead of what he thinks “should” be.

“I'm not sure I can. I desperately need to be held, to be told that I will be okay, that things will get better, but I cannot stomach the touch required”

Petition to get her a weighted blanket.

“..such an expanse to fill with dreams.” THAT PROSE AGAIN! I’m weak.

Also I want to live in a giant tree library with winged rabbits. Unfair I’m not.

Petition for me to to live in a giant tree library with winged rabbits?

“I start to worry about the anger I saw in him. I've never seen it before, but that doesn't mean it's not commonly occurring around other people. What if he's only being nice to me to gain my trust?”

She has such well developed emotion and a really authentic representation of PTSD.

The reoccurrence of this time line she set for herself: “It's nearly the end of spring, and I told myself I'd be better before summer.” UGH. You sneaky little mind spy Lyra Brie. How are so good at pulling out human experiences and emotions like that?

“To stare at the stars and realize how big the universe is, how much this all stretches beyond the two of us, and yet we get to be here together.”

Ah yes, the optimistic existentialism of star gazing. It’s part of why I love it.

“He is choosing to spend time with me despite how hard the lack of communication makes our friendship”

You are always worthy of friends and love and human connection. Being “too much” is a lie and a scam invented by boring people in beige who are really actually quite sad and miserable. Don’t listen to sad miserable fools in beige.

“Why can't I just be normal?”

Totally not feral over this, no sir.

“I work on my sewing a bit, trying to stitch these pieces of fabric back together. Maybe I can't fix me, but I could fix these clothes”

What a wonderful illustration of one of those tiny life moments of trying to control what we can.

“I'm willing to give myself time, though, and I have hope that it will come when it's ready.”

Such beautiful character growth. We all need to relearn what it is to show ourselves this kind type of grace.

“  I don't know why I insisted on doing these things, even know they won't be able to understand or read any of it. They can't speak my new languages. There's still no way for me to actually communicate with them.    I sigh, laying down on the grass. I had insisted on starting this story, for some reason. I might as well finish it. Maybe not for them, but for me”

Sometimes it can silly to do or make something for yourself, but it really is very important. Even if it feels “too different” for others to understand at times. More people will probably get more out of it than you assume.

**

If I took a shot of water every time hope appears in Lyra Brie stories I’d be a very hydrated person.

   “Maybe love is a language of its own, and you can feel it, even if you don't know what the other person is saying.”

No words. That stands on its own.

   “Everything has changed. I am different. Will they be okay with that, once they understand? They'll have to get to know me all over again. But maybe some things are still the same.    Maybe this old part of me can be part of the new, too.”

Im so strongly in love with this I’m going to be sick!

The moments with her parents were she’s first hugging her parents again, telling them her story and she loves them, and how much she missed them- wow. Just wow. Wow. WOW. W-O-W. It’s hard to choose a favorite moment but that just might be it.

“I hold them out to him, encouraging his healing the same way he did all those months for me” What a lovely image to close with. I adore the reoccurring flower motif through out. That supportive element of floriography becoming such a healing, comforting thing really just makes this story all the more special.

To summarize: I was made me Feel Feelings against my will.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

>:3

I'm so sorry this one took so long for me to write, but with the newest batch of smut prompts I found some new motivation for the jealousy prompt.

This one also includes the prompt: “I don’t like people touching what’s mine.” from @fourlittleseedlings

So without further ado...smut is under the cut

"Joseph tells me you managed to swing her to our reasoning. What did it take?"

John's voice was a rasp over the radio waves. He'd been holed up at the compound after the accident and the ribs were taking the longest to heal. Jacob could hear it in his voice, the nagging pain was a constant reminder to John of his failure and it drove him crazy. Even crazier than usual.

"What's it matter to you?"

The half-hearted interest from the eldest brother was an added twist of the knife in the Baptist's back.

"I had her Jacob, so close to her atonement, she could have been mine!" He roared.

There was the feral beast he knew lay below the surface. The real face of John, not the angel he claimed to be.

"What do you mean yours?"

"What do you think I mean, brother?" The words hissed from him, slipping between sharp fangs ready to strike.

Darkened eyes under a heavy brow tried to remain focused on the desk he was working at, but John always knew the right things to say to get under his skin. Knew how and where to hurt him, to get him to react, like nobody else.

"Did you fuck her?" He tried to keep his voice calm and even, the same resolute tone he always spoke with. He couldn't let John know the poison was seeping in.

"Now Jacob, no need to be quite so crass about it. A man like me doesn't kiss and tell."

John's voice grated on him. He was practically laughing in his face. It always bothered him how much joy his brother felt, knowing he was torturing him and without ever having to pick up a knife.

He flicked off his radio and stared at the pinholes in the wall where his plan for Eli once hung. Eyes bloodshot and sore, he rubbed at them with his calloused palms. Surely, if what John said had taken place, she would have told him? She could look him in the eye, and she never flinched.

Then again, she also had the Resistance believing she was on their side.

Heavy boots drummed upon old wooden floorboards. Feet moved double time as he stormed down the stairs towards the showers. There she stood under the running water, thick waves of auburn hair fanning out down her back, sticking to her soaking wet skin.

Baring it all, soon she would be in more ways than one.

Grabbing her by the arm, he swung her around to face him. Her back slammed against the shower wall, his hand pressed to her chest with enough strength to keep her from running or fighting. Shower water poured down his back, drenching his shirt, but he barely noticed. Too focused on her to care about anything else.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you about what?" Kit's eyes bugged out of her skull. He'd caught her unaware, and she seemed angrier about that than about being confronted.

"John."

Her gaze fell from him, focusing on the drops of water that fell down her now reddening skin. "I knew that would come back to bite me in the ass."

A flush rose up her face, even the tips of her ears started to turn red. He could practically see the water evaporating off of her with how her skin burned.

"What happened?" His stare dug into her with the same force his fingers did into her flesh.

She wasted no time in confessing. There was no point in lying, not to him, he'd know. "It was a kiss. Technically a few. But it doesn't mean anything now. I'm yours."

He froze, icy eyes widening at her choice of words. "Now? It meant something, then?" His head tipped to the side, as if the 45-degree angle would help him understand better.

"At the time…" Her hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, trying to pry him off of her. "... John can be very convincing. He was the first person to understand me in a long time. I didn't have to hide from him, just like I don't have to with you."

His hand slid from her chest, up her neck, bracing her jaw in his grip, pressing the back of her head back up against the cold concrete wall. His thumb traced over her lips, pulling at her plump pout roughly. "Not sure I'm such a fan of knowing Johnny was here first."

"Would it make you feel better knowing you're the last?" She said flatly.

He didn't appreciate her tone, but he also knew she wasn't lying. She was willing to do anything and everything for him. She was his most loyal, his right hand.

His hand fell from her jaw, finally letting her go free, the skin left red where pressure had been placed. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, tossing it to the ground with a wet slap against crumbling floor tiles. His mouth crashing down against her, pressing forceful kisses against her, bruising her lips.

"I don't have to remind you who you belong to, do I?"

Staring down into those icy eyes of hers, seeing that glimmer of madness that always lay just below the surface made him realise just why his brother was driven insane over her. Monstrous beauty was the only way he could define it.

"I just said I'm yours, didn't I?" She growled back.

She clung to him tightly, her hands tracing up his back, pulling him into her embrace like the black hole she was. Drops of water slipped down his nose, splashing onto her face. Only inches separated them as they sized each other up once again, having to rebuild the trust they had tentatively agreed upon.

Fingers slid over slick skin, goosebumps following closely behind. She shivered against the wall, her lip quivering gently as the cold air stung at her the longer she remained out of the water. Ragged nails dragged along the curve of her hip, leaving angry red lines behind.

His tongue dipped between his cracked lips, eyes scanning over her body, quickly forgetting why he was angry as the heated blood began to flow somewhere else.

Her head tilted back to gain him access to her mouth, instead his lips travelled down her neck, retracing every bruise she had in differing shades of scarlet and indigo. Reaching her shoulder, he clamped down with his teeth, hard enough to break the skin.

That same little breathy squeak escaped her as he marked her, the same way he had a dozen times before. It wasn't a new sound, but it was one he was fond of hearing all the same. One that told him he had cracked that hard exterior of hers to reach whatever softness remained down below.

He ran his thumb over the indented marks of his teeth in her pale flesh, squeezing the blood to the surface. "I don't like people touching what's mine"

"No one else ever will."

Her hands made short work of his belt, pulling the leather from the buckle, and undoing the button. She slipped her hand down the front of his jeans, rubbing against his cock with her soaking wet hands. A growl built in the back of his throat, it didn't feel anywhere near as good as her cunt or her mouth, but to get him started it would do just fine.

Stroking him, getting him harder with just her touch, her eyes focused entirely on him. She might have been smaller than him, but the power she held was intoxicating. The desire he felt for her was impossible to ignore. She commanded his attention. She owned him as much as he owned her, and every soul knew it, even as she walked around his mountain under the guise of being the Deputy, his dog tags hung around her neck, tucked under the neckline of her sweater.

Grabbing her thighs, he pressed her back against the wall and lifted her up, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, her fingers trailing over the buzzed scalp and shock of red hair. She squeezed him into her with the power of her thighs, the muscle under her coiled snake tattoo tightening until it was as hard as iron as he pushed up inside of her.

A shuddering gasp dragged out of her as she pressed her forehead to his. Caressing the side of his face, fingertips gently traced his scars as he bottomed out inside of her, pressing against her insides, making her hiss.

Sliding back out of her, her hiss pulled into a moan and then a purr as he pushed back up into her slowly. His cock rubbing up against that perfect spot, practised and perfected, just like he was training for battle (exactly what loving her was).

He grabbed at her flesh, fingers digging into her to bruise, a vice grip around her as his thrusts pushed deeper inside of her, as deep as he could possibly go. He couldn't be sure if it was tears or simply the water from her wet hair but they dripped down her cheeks as a flush overtook her.

Red was most certainly her color. Always had been. She never looked better than when she was covered in blood. And as her skin turned that perfectly aroused shade of blush, he found himself staring.

"Harder!"

She dug her nails into his back, clawing at him to force a reaction out of him. His hips snapped in and out, slamming her tailbone against the wall and she didn't seem to care. Her cunt making wet, squelching noises as he continued to fuck up into her.

Squeezing her eyes shut as she moaned out, the echo of her cries reverberated amongst concrete walls like a cave.

"God, you're so fucking deep," She mewled before crashing her mouth against his.

His teeth dragged against her bottom lip each time she tried to pull away to breathe. He had to let her know what it felt like being around her, that feeling of suffocating he lived with every day. A feeling he didn't want to lose.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breasts pressing up against him, beads of sweat and water passing between their hard, muscular bodies. Toned and tempered to be weapons, and yet in moments like this, they seemed to be able to melt into each other, more like molten metal.

A breathy laugh shook out of her as he bounced her up and down on his cock, feeling her cunt fluttering around him as her slick arousal collected around the base of his shaft.

"Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

He couldn't help but smirk, looking up at her through his heavy brow. Even in the middle of fucking she couldn't help but provoke him.

"Don't make it a habit."

He rutted into harder and faster as he could feel himself getting closer, his nails digging crescents into her ass as he pulled her towards him, increasing the angle.

Her arm slipped from his shoulder, the other wrapping tighter around the back of his neck, as she brought her hand between her legs. Her fingers rubbing furiously at her clit, her teeth gritted together as her back arched and her cunt clenched around him.

"Jesus Christ!"

He couldn't move, locked in a steel trap between her legs as her whole body went rigid and then moments later falling slack against him. As she loosened around him, he continued his motions, dragging his cock in and out of her. Soft gasps and moans leaking from her as her still sensitive cunt was being used.

"I'm sorry," She whispered softly, coiling her fingers in his hair.

It was the first time she'd ever apologised for anything, likely the only time she would. The gooey, soft center of hers was on full display for him. He wasn't sure how to answer, how to respond. Did he just ignore it? He tried not to lose momentum, to lose his rhythm and kept fucking. Her whines steadily building, her tight pussy clutching him, fluttering against him once more the same way her eyelashes did as she looked at him with cold blue bedroom eyes.

The coil in his gut was getting tighter, about ready to snap. His thighs burned, aching as he maintained her position against the wall. Growls and groans built up in his chest, reverberating through his ribcage.

"Fuck!"

He pinned her back against the wall, forcing her legs open wide with his hands, thrusting as hard as he could with all the power he had left and none of the restraint. He could have torn her in fucking two.

"Gonna fill you with my cum," he rasped.

Her cries morphed into screams of pleasure, sounding more like the feral thing she was, only spurring him on.

"Please!"

With a final thrust, his cum coated her insides, his cock thrusting it in and out of her, drops of it falling to the floor below and circling down the drain.

His head fell to her chest as he caught his breath, listening to the drumming of her heart.

"You're all mine, angel."

She cradled his face against her breasts and gave a heaving sigh. "I'm all yours."

[iwanttobeheard1]

Whether you support Israel or Palestine. I want to share the life of those who are living in today, October 7th, Saturday.

I decided to go to sleep at 5 am, not a smart choice, especially not when my mom called me at 6:30 am and told me, to wake my sister up, we’re at war

At first, I thought—- oh, it’s okay but not really.

We had seen this before, not our first rodeo.

Not the first time we wake up to a siren with a rocket above our head, not the first time we have the news on 24/7, not the first time the only sound aside from the TV is the war planes going over our house. We’re used to this.

We are used to the house shaking, we are used to the sounds of booms above our roofs, to hear a name we don’t know declared dead as a causality. We’ve seen it all before. The smoke, the collapsed building.

But today, Saturday, is different. Today I woke up to my Instagram feed full of people asking others to share their posts— not for likes Or follows, because a friend or two has gone missing.

And then, four friends, maybe five or 10. To slowly entire families, children, parents, sister and brothers, even grandparents. My friend’s mom doesn’t answer the phone, she’s in the south, and my cousin is hiding in the trees, away from gunshots.

And when we open tiktok, we see videos and photos of loved ones being taken hostage, their clothes bloodied and dirty, torn away and discarded. A lot of families find out about death or kidnapping of a loved one this way. By accidentally clicking on a video, not thinking they’ll see someone they share blood with.

With a weapon to their head, if they have a head, at all.

Selfies, of deceased men and women, children and elderly are sent to those families, selfies of their killer with the deceased.

And then videos, of countless men attacking an unalived body, another mother found out about her kids passing like that.

And then entire villages, 50 people kidnapped within hours, taken into enemy territory in the name of liberation, of resistance.

And I had always advocated for peace, I had always believed in seeing a good in a person, even if we don’t share the same views.

But to those who support that behavior, to those who do not condemn these actions— i can only pray you realize that the ‘goodness’ in your heart is a horror by itself, as it picks and chooses who deserves to live, and who deserves to suffer by the color of their skin, their god and the language they speak.

I cannot unsee the way men mutate a corpse, or the way a man tells a child to enter a bathroom, knowing he won’t ever get out of it.

But I hope I can see a future where a life’s worth is a life’s worth. No matter who’s.

I’m sending prayers to every human on earth.