#I keep repeating a mantra of ‘i can do whatever I want ever’ whenever I think I’m being cringe

[starrysymphonies]

What if they were all in love huh? What then?

+ bonus doodles (one of which is an idea I had where Noah rejoins in Niagara Brawls and forms an alliance with Heather later in the season)

#total drama #total drama world tour #I keep repeating a mantra of ‘i can do whatever I want ever’ whenever I think I’m being cringe #anyway #td Heather #td Alejandro #td Noah #Alenoaheather #Alenoaheather td #aka Heather and Her boys #she loves them very much #they gossip together let’s be real #the napping art is based on the hc most ppl have that Alejandro is naturally warm #he is a heater for them #fresh tv didn’t let them team up bcs they knew these three would be too powerful #star’s art

[coeursye]

Yours truly

༄ — pairing : lucemond

༄ — status : complete (1.9k)

༄ — tags: ABO || Fluff || Angst

✨ You can either read it here or on ao3

Summary: Aemond has developed strong feelings for his sweet nephew Lucerys.

Feeling scared and uncertain of what to do, he expresses his growing and raging feelings for the little Luke by writing letters.

He never expected that his brother would find the said letters though..

Truly, little Aemond did not know why he began to feel what he felt towards his young nephew.

The child had been experiencing a strange sensation for weeks now, feelings he could not properly name, a feeling that only grew stronger as the days went by..

The more time passed, the more Aemond found himself looking upon Lucerys with newfound eyes, all his previous judgments melted away.

He had always harbored a natural disdain for the bastard, but in a flicker of the heart, he felt something different, it was as if something within him had suddenly shifted, causing him to take a different look at his nephew.

What remained, instead, was only a pure fondness and warmth.

Aemond was taken aback by these new emotions, unable to pinpoint what it was that had brought about such a drastic shift in his perception of Lucerys.

Was it something he said, or maybe the way he acted ? Was it the way he wanted his endless attention and trailed with persistence behind him like a little duckling ? Was it the way he fiercely defended him against Aegon when his teasing became a little too much ?

Or maybe it was the way he looked at him with pure kindness in his doe eyes with his adorable dimples shown whenever he graced him with a smile ?

Whatever it was, Aemond's heart felt lighter and warmer than ever before.

When he would spend time together with his brother and their nephews, Aemond found himself seeking out the omega boy's sweet company, eagerly anticipating the sound of his laugh and the sight of his smile. He was quick to offer help whenever possible and even took on extra responsibilities like teaching Lucerys some basic swordplay.

The young dragonborn was proving to be a rather apt pupil. He was very eager, though quite petite and thin, he was quite strong and had an innate talent at swordplay.

For a skinny little omega child, he had a fighting spirit that amazed his uncle.

"Uncle, you look so incredible when you fight! I want to be just like you one day," Lucerys chimed in one day while he was sparring with his eldest nephew, Jacaerys.

His breath came heavy with effort; his heart pounded, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that never failed to surprise and impress Aemond.

"Do you really believe so, Lucerys?"

He nodded eagerly, "Yes! I really do Uncle. I want to be able to fight as gracefully and skillfully as you."

Luke gave him one of his beaming, dazzling smiles and maybe it was in that moment that Aemond realized he was more than fond of him.

He watched as the little omega laughed at something Jacaerys said and felt a warmth swelling in his chest. It was then that he knew without doubt what he had been feeling all this time: love.

Aemond had fallen deeply in love with Lucerys, and it scared him just how easily it had happened.

But he was aware his feelings were not meant to be shared, for if his mother ever found out, she would be extremely displeased.

So he vowed to himself to keep his newfound feelings hidden deep beneath the surface for Lucerys’s sake..

Aemond tried his hardest to push away the thought of how he felt for Lucerys, but it was impossible. The little Velaryon boy filled his thoughts every day and his dreams every night, the feelings and yearning he felt for him only kept growing stronger with each passing day.

His mind was fixated on a single and unique name, repeating it like a sweet mantra; Lucerys. Lucerys. Lucerys;

So instead of trying to ignore it, the young Alpha decided to take a different approach. He began to write down his raging feelings on papers, pouring out all of his emotions into the pages.

Writing those letters somehow helped him cope with these emotions better and gave him an outlet for them without anyone ever knowing what was on his mind or in his heart.

It was truly freeing, his chest felt less heavy.

He wrote about all their shared moments together - from Lucerys's laugh when Aegon told them a funny story, to their chats as they spent their times in the dragon pit. He wrote about how soft Lucerys's hair felt when he pushed it back from his face, and how bright his smile was when he looked up at him with admiration.

And more than anything else, he wrote about how much he loved Lucerys and how he wished he could mate him in a not so distant future when they become older...but that would be impossible because of who they were related to.

His mother nor his eldest sister Rhaenyra would surely never approve anyway, the drift between them had grown too big and beyond reconciliation.

More importantly, there was also the fact that Luke maybe wouldn't reciprocate his feelings, how would the boy react if he knew ? Would he be disgusted, angry with Aemond if he ever found out about his own feelings ?

That was his biggest fear.

Aemond sighed heavily, he ripped this particular letter into pieces and threw the rest into the fire before laying down unto his bed. He hadn't expected these overwhelming emotions to arise so suddenly.

He continued this little ritual for weeks, night after night he religiously wrote endlessly about his beloved Lucerys.

The first few nights, he was careful to hide these letters from any prying eyes, but as the weeks passed he became more careless.

One particular night, he didn’t bother to hide them, and went to bed with the letters fully displayed on his desk, never thinking that someone would really pay attention to them.

Little did he know that his secret was about to be unveiled.

The next day early in the morning, when he was done refreshing himself with the water in the little bassinet, he turned around to finish preparing himself only to find a familiar face standing in his room.

There, standing next to his desk with his stack of letters in his hand was none other than his infuriating and idiotic eldest brother, Aegon.

He had snicked in quietly while Aemond was tidying himself, not making a sound as he stepped closer and closer to Aemond’s desk. He had come looking for something -anything- really that might give him insight into his brother’s mysterious behavior as of late.

“Aemond, what is it that you’ve written here?” asked Aegon as he started to unfold one of the letters, the words of Aemond’s heart inked onto them.

He began to read it, his voice loud and clear in the stillness of the room.

My dearest Lucerys,

I write to you from my chamber, the walls of my heart echoing the same sentiment. My affections for you, my beloved nephew, have been growing with each passing day since your arrival in our home and our lives .

It is with great regret that I must write these words, for I cannot act upon them. I cannot tell you of my deep affection. But I can write, and so I shall …

Aegon couldn’t finish the content of the letter as he burst out laughing "Aemond, what is this ?" he asked, still laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “Is this what you have been writing here every night? It's so pathetic.”

Aemond's face reddened, clearly embarrassed.

"Give those back," he said, his voice strained as he came in front of his brother. "This isn’t for you."

He had written these for himself, never intending for anyone else to see them.

He tried to snatch them up but Aegon shook his head and held the stack of letters high up in the air. Despite being an omega, Aegon was still much taller than Aemond, for now.

"Oh no, I think I'll keep these" he said, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Aemond's face grew even redder, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Aegon, please," he pleaded. "I beg you not to do this."

Aegon's smile widened as he glanced at his brother. "Do not fret, brother," he said. "I'm sure Luke would love to read them as well!"

With that, he tucked the letters into his pocket and ran out of the room to go, with Aemond chasing after him, in the direction of the training yard where the Velaryon brothers were waiting for them.

Aegon arrived first at the training yard, a huge grin displaying on his face as he spotted Luke and Jace.

He greeted them and then said, “You will never guess what I just discovered in my brother’s room."

Luke and Jace exchanged looks of surprise, intrigued to hear more.

Aemond emerged from the shadows behind them, looking embarrassed. He pleaded with Aegon again not to read the letters but it fell on deaf ears.

"You must be reading these," Aegon said, plucking one out of the stack. "Let's see what we have here..." He began to read aloud: "My dearest love..." he began, before bursting into laughter.

Jace joined in too, snickering as Aegon continued to read.

Meanwhile, Aemond was turning an even deeper shade of red, cringing at each word coming out of his brother's mouth.

He looked away from them, from Luke, he couldn’t face him, not after being humiliated like that, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

It was too late. The damage had been done. After much teasing from Aegon and Jace, Aemond spun around and ran out of the training yard with a strangled cry of anger, leaving them behind him laughing uncontrollably.

Aemond sat under the wide weirwood tree, his sobbing had now stopped. In the distance, he could see Luke walking towards him. He tensed up, dreading the mockery he was sure was coming.

“Uncle, I’ve read the rest of your letters and-”

“If you’re here to mock and humiliate me as well nephew, then just go already!” barked Aemond, a flush on his face

But much to Aemond's surprise, Luke waved his words away with an understanding smile

“No, no qybor, I swear I’m not here to do that, quite the contrary.” said Luke reassuringly, a soft small playing on his lips. Aemond felt all his worries wash away as he looked into Luke's eyes and saw the sincerity in them

Luke crouched down right by his side under the tree, Luke refused to look at him though.

The silence was deafening and seemed to last an eternity until Lucerys suddenly placed his hand above Aemond’s very own and started talking;

"Aemond," he said softly. "I read your letters and I must tell you that I-.. I like you a lot too.” He paused, his face was becoming just as red as Aemond’s.

“I was wondering, if in the future your feelings remains the same

for me, and if our families permit it of course.. would you like to become a pair with me?” Luke almost screamed in a rush.

The words hung in the air between them as Aemond tried to process what he was hearing. Was this real? Could it actually happen?

In a happy daze, he nodded slowly and smiled back at Luke, feeling like his life had just taken a sudden turn for the better.

"Yes," he said as he squeezed Luke’s tiny hand, his voice wavering slightly with emotion. "I'd like that very much.”

In this moment, Aemond couldn’t be happier, his heart swelled with immense joy.

#lucerys x aemond #lucemond #aemond x lucerys #fluff #angst #drabble #hotd fanfic #fanfic #abo

[realdrake]

Have you ever felt overwhelmed by a distant goal? Maybe it's something you've always dreamed of achieving, but the distance between where you are now and where you want to be seems insurmountable. It's easy to feel discouraged in these moments, but there's a powerful tool you can use to keep yourself motivated: the mantra "I have it within me right now to get me to where I want to be later."

This simple phrase contains a profound truth: you already possess everything you need to achieve your goals. Whatever skills, knowledge, or resources you need to succeed, they are already within you. All you have to do is tap into them.

Of course, this is easier said than done. When you're feeling overwhelmed, it's hard to imagine how you'll ever bridge the gap between where you are and where you want to be. But the truth is, you don't have to bridge the entire gap all at once. You just need to take one step at a time.

Think of it this way: every journey starts with a single step. When you're standing at the foot of a mountain, looking up at the summit, it's easy to feel intimidated. But you don't have to climb the whole mountain in one go. You just need to take the first step. And then the next. And the next.

The same is true of any goal you want to achieve. Whether it's learning a new skill, building a business, or running a marathon, you don't have to do it all at once. You just need to take the first step. And then the next. And the next.

But how do you stay motivated when the goal seems so far away? This is where the mantra "I have it within me right now to get me to where I want to be later" comes in. Repeat this phrase to yourself whenever you feel discouraged or overwhelmed. Remind yourself that you already possess everything you need to succeed.

Of course, this doesn't mean that you won't face challenges along the way. You will. But remember that every challenge is an opportunity to grow and learn. Every setback is a chance to reevaluate your approach and try something new. And every small step you take brings you closer to your goal.

So the next time you're feeling overwhelmed by a faraway goal, take a deep breath and repeat this mantra to yourself: "I have it within me right now to get me to where I want to be later." Believe in yourself. Take that first step. And keep going, one step at a time. You've got this.

#overwhelmed #insurmountable #knowledge #new skil #mantra #challenges #opportunity

[aplaceforthesoul]

Anonymous submitted:

I need help

Hey. This is not my first time reaching out for help, but no one has ever taken me seriously. I really need a solid solution for my current mental state.

It all started in September (2021), but I don't know exactly how. I just started feeling really anxious, scared and stressed out. I always think everyone hates me, that they are plotting behind my back and want to harm me... even the closest people.

I also started obsessing over "life signs" and can't get them out of my head. I see a word "break up" and I think my fiancé will leave me, I hear that some died because of cancer, I think I will too, I hear a sad song, oh something bad is going to happen to me.

I've stressed myself so much lately. I can't sleep at night fearing that all my life will fall apart.

Please help me. I need advice.

feeling like you’re obsessively focusing on something is tough to manage, especially if you feel like you have no control over things.

in the short term, something that you could try doing? whenever you find yourself getting caught up in anxious thoughts or over-thinking, physically stop anything that you’re doing and find somewhere quiet and private (bedroom / bathroom etc). take a moment to focus on your breathing. this post could help with focused breathing techniques, which can help to ground you? focused breathing helps because it works to slow down your heart rate, it decreases blood pressure, it allows more oxygen into the brain so you can think more clearly. also, sometimes saying things out loud can help too. sometimes people really do underestimate the power of affirmations! so saying out loud “I’m not going to let my thoughts get the best of me today, I’m going to stay grounded, I’ve got this” or something like that really can help – it makes things feel a lot more real, and a lot more believable, it gives your words power, and gives you the strength to believe in your own convictions. 

so if there’s days where your thoughts are becoming too loud to cope with and you feel distressed or overcome with anxiety? stop whatever you’re doing, take a few deep breaths and say aloud to yourself “I’m not going to let my thoughts + fear get the best of me today, I’m going to stay grounded, I’ve got this”. repeat it like a mantra if that works, whatever works best.

in the long-term though? support from a mental health professional is what can help the most. I know that’s not easy to get for a lot of people! the conversations around mental health has lessened some of the stigma which is great, but there’s still a massive hurdle of accessibility to overcome and I truly do understand that. but if you have any option to seek professional help (therapists, counsellors, social workers, youth workers, psychologists, psychiatrists), then please please do so. 

let other people in your life know what’s going on, so that they can help you and support you. be honest and open about what you’re going through, keep talking about it and make a point of showing to people that this really is of concern for you. I am taking you seriously! I really am, I believe everything that you’re experiencing, it sounds terribly frightening and isolating. this fear and anxiety may have started to become a little irrational and bordering on paranoia, which is asking for help from others can keep you grounded in reality and can help you through this. let us know how things go for you friend, all the best <3

- tash

#advice #submission #rumination #fear #anxiety #distress #paranoia

[pxnk-velvet]

Heyoo.... So Kakashi x Dom reader, they're already in a relationship, she think of something new to do tonight, she just makes him lay down and takes the reigns, but instead of being rough or kinky she surprises him by being very very soft, a lot of care and body worshipping and loving words and actions, she doesn't let him do anything, he just has to lay down, relax and let her baby him and worship him

𝐻𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝐵𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ𝑑𝑎𝑦 [NSFW!]

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜

𝐾𝑎𝑘𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝐻𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

✧ word count :: 1.7k

✧ summary :: Despite her usual approach to things in bed with Kakashi, Y/n was going to make sure Kakashi felt loved on his birthday one way or another.

✧ warnings :: nsfw!, fluff, established relationship, implied dom reader, oral (m!receiving), body worship, praise, intended for mature readers only! reblogs are appreciated <3

✧ a/n :: this is the first time I’ve written anything spicy in forever and I’m only doing this bc it was our husbands birthday a few weeks ago soooo and ik this is like super late but idc I’m just happy I was finally able to finish a piece ok? Let me live 🖐🏼😤

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜

He’s so pretty…

That was the only thing on Y/n’s mind as she stood with Kakashi in her arms. The two of them were standing in front of the mirror that was near the foot of their bed. Simply soaking in each other’s presence and enjoying the company. 

She peered at him from over his shoulder, her chin perched on his shoulder as she admired the godly man in her grasp. 

Her eyes tracing every single curve and dip present on his body. Warmly gazing over every scar, scratch, or imperfection that was embedded onto him. Her hands glazed over his sides and core as they settled near his abdomen. Fingertips pressing into the soft skin that shielded strong muscle underneath. Her lips were gentle against his shoulder blades as she littered kisses across his back.

It was moments of appreciation like this that made Y/n truly wonder how she had managed to find a man like Kakashi. Of course he came with his faults, but everyone does. And she never let that get in the way of her love for. 

“Happy birthday.” She hummed sweetly against his skin, a smile occupying her eyes as for her lips were busy pressed against his skin.

Kakashi returned one, butterflies erupting in Y/n’s stomach when she saw it. 

That. His smile was one of the prettiest things she’d ever encountered in all her years. She did everything in her power to keep it gentle and bright. Even if he wore his mask nearly all day, she can only hope it never dims underneath.

All day her chest had been blossoming with love, seeing Kakashi smile so much today. Receiving gifts from friends and comrades. Yet she knew it wasn't just the gifts themselves but the acknowledgment and appreciation these people had for him. She believed he deserved it all with every fiber of her being. And yet she had no idea how to show him just that. That was until they had made it home.

Now clad in simple house clothes, they had spent the rest of the day enjoying each other. Y/n had cooked Kakashi his favorite meal for dinner and surprised him with a little homemade cake. Emphasizing the little, simply because she knew he wasn’t one for sweets, so it was really just a simple serving for herself that Kakashi insisted he feed to her himself. Only to smear frosting across her face and pull her in for a kiss, claiming that she had a little frosting on her lips. 

Her kisses still tasted sweet with the frosting as Kakashi turned to face her, his back to the mirror. Now pulling her into his arms and draping them around Y/n’s waist, resting his hands against her lower back.

With sparkling eyes, ones Kakashi could get lost in forever, Y/n looked up at him, musing, “I love you,” placing a quick kiss to his lips. Not giving him a chance to respond before she kisses him again, singing another “I love you,” then repeating the process over and over again. Littering kisses all over his face, jaw, and neck. 

Y/n was quick to maneuver Kakashi so he was laying on the edge of the bed, her hips settled suggestively over his. An obviously give away as to what she had instore for the birthday boy.

Y/n’s kisses never seized fire, every single one was light yet held so much passion. Creating a constellation of love across his skin. Sending electricity to both his heart and the deep pit in his stomach. 

The only time her kissing stopped was when she sat up straight, placing her palms against his chest. Fingertips gentle gliding against the light dusting of gray hair. Her lips stretched with a sweet smile, eyes warm as she spoke, “Did you know that I love you?” Her voice was smooth like honey, as it invaded Kakashi’s senses. 

His body felt like it was floating. His cheeks were covered in a warm flush that grew even hotter whenever she moved above him. Even just the slightest drag of her pelvis seemed to cause his senses to go haywire. The way her gaze soaked up every single minuscule reaction wasn’t helping either. 

The intimate moments they shared together were often like this. Kakashi allowing Y/n to do as she pleases for her own pleasure, which only fueled his own. 

Kakashi swallowed the dryness in his throat, replying to her question with a slight giggle, “Yes, Y/n. You’ve mentioned that already.”

Her smile grew even more, glowing like a light above, “I know but I just want to make sure. I love you. Everything about you,” She sang sweetly, placing a kiss at the base of his throat.

“Your perfections,” a kiss now placed to his collarbone, Y/n nipping the skin. Making Kakashi jump slightly, to which she giggled while continuing her ministrations down his front. 

“Your imperfections, your eyes, your hair, your body…” She dragged, bringing her tongue to slowly trace previous kisses up to his navel and back down, “Your muscles,” Again, Kakashi’s skin jumped when her hands crawled up his abdomen, relishing in the way the muscles went taunt under her touch. 

“But most of all,” She slowly sat up, Kakashi groaning at the loss of the warmth of her lips against his skin, “Your mind,” Y/n’s hands came down to toy with the hem of his pants. Her fingers teasing the edges, slipping beneath, only to retract when his breath grew heavy. 

“Your heart,” Y/n whispered only loud enough for the two of them to hear. Regardless of the fact if they were the only ones in the room. She wanted those words to only fall upon his ears. He was the most deserving after all. 

One of her hands came to cup the tent that had stood mighty before her, squeezing gently, feeling the way his blood pulsed violently through his veins. 

The way he gripped the sheets beneath his fists as a groan fell from behind his grit teeth, caused the fire in the pit of Y/n’s stomach to ignite, sending electricity through her body. 

“Kakashi,” She called, the only thing present on her face was love and sincerity, “I love you with every fiber of my being,” Her hands came to grip the fabric of his pants, “and I’m going to make sure you know that tonight.”

His pants were gone soon after, Y/n getting off only to undress Kakashi and herself, only to resume the same position. Only now there was no restriction between them, now purely skin to skin. Each drunk off of each other and the effects shared between them. 

Kakashi could’ve sworn he was in paradise. The image before him was one he had seen time and time again but always took his breath away. Watching Y/n lean down, taking his cock into her hand, looking up at him with big eyes. He sighed loudly, throwing his head back against the bed, hands gripping the bed sheets underneath. 

“Fuck...Y/n,” A wave of hot electricity washed over Kakashi as Y/n took him into her mouth. Her tongue working the underside of his length, her right hand still gripping whatever she couldn’t fit in her mouth. 

Kakashi’s hips jerked every time his head would brush against the back of her throat. Which in turn caused the heat between her legs to grow hotter and heavier. Once she had been able to work her mouth all the way down the length of his cock, her nose pressed gently against his pelvis. Brushing against the dusting of dark gray hair at the base of his length.

His hand found refuge at the crown of her head, “Just like that...yes,” He groaned deeply, Kakashi could’ve sworn he was seeing stars at this point. 

One of the things about Y/n that never failed to amaze him was the way she knew how to work his body. In ways that he wasn’t aware of until she became a part of his sexual life. 

Y/n continued on, pulling back to catch her breath real quick before diving back in. Her lips warm and wet against his shaft, tongue occasionally toying with the head of his cock. All the while she had snuck her own hand between her legs, in hopes of relieving the tension that had grown in her core. The moans that rumbled in her throat, her own fingers slowly circling sensitive bud, caused vibrations to ring throughout Kakashi’s body as his jaw hung slack. Pretty noises rolling off of his tongue like butter. 

Soon enough, he was chanting to the heavens above, “I’m coming, Y/n, I’m so close.” Singing her name like a mantra before spilling his load on her tongue. To which she prettily displayed before him, swallowing all that she could. 

A few moments later, giving some time to relax, Y/n had climbed onto his lap. Straddling his hips, which wasn’t the best help for his sensitive state at the moment. Regardless, she situated her frame over his, all the while running her thumb across her lips. Cleaning up whatever she had missed, “Open.” She whispered, placing her opposite hand on his chest and bringing her cum covered thumb to his lips. 

She smiles warmly, rocking her hips against his when he parted his lips and stuck out his tongue. 

“Good.” Her voice was smooth as she dragged her thumb across Kakashi’s tongue, watching intently as his lips closed around her digit and proceeded to clean it of his own seed. 

“You’re so pretty, Kakashi,” She sang happily, retracting her finger and pulling his bottom lip along with it. 

Kakashi’s chest inflated with a huge sigh, Y/n coming to lay against it as he wiped the sweat across his brow, “You get me every time, don’t you?” He chuckled deeply, peering down at her.

“Of course,” She hummed, sitting up again, “But we aren’t done yet.”

She lifted her weight, shifting so she could position her slick opening right at the tip of his hard again cock, “That was only the first part of your gift, birthday boy.” She giggled. All before settling down onto his length. Nestling her hips securely against his, throwing her head back at the addictive sensation. She soon began working herself up and down his shaft, not before muttering breathily, “Happy Birthday, Kakashi.” with a lust drunk smile etched across her lips. 

.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜・.・ ✧。.・゜✧・.・✧・゜

#pxnkvelvet::spice:: #naruto #naruto smut #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake smut #kakashi smut #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #kakashi x y/n

[yostresswritinggirl]

Valentine's Collab - Day Six!

"Don't be stubborn! Try it!"

Early Valentine's gift as part of this great collaboration event together with seven other lovely authors, for Feb 13! Masterlist here, read them all, they're greaaaat~

Here's more sauce for motorcycle and tattoo artist Xiao brrttt, header by @Cut3knife on twitter.

Customers are always right! A simple and straightforward philosophy in the world of commerce exercised and spoken like a mantra for many years.

Xiao takes this to heart in his business. He had never refused a customer on their choices when it comes to the design they pick. Even if it's a bad tattoo, even if they were high,

even if they were drunk off their assess, too.

He was silent and obedient if he was silently judging the customer, hardcore, in his head.

So, what is it about now that made him hesitate.

"Don't be stubborn! Try it!"

Your flushed face from one too many drinks swayed side to side as you giggled, his head lifting from the image to stare- squint at your intoxicated state.

Xiao is known as an Ink Master for his mad talent in generating designs AND copying requests to the dot. You are one of his frequent and loyal customer, maybe the most loyal one of all, who always asks for the most aesthetically pleasing designs you customize or combine from different designs into a bigger masterpiece.

That's the main reason he's very hesitant on your request, the thought making him look at the digital design displayed on your phone and cringe again at the image.

This is a dare, this is definitely a horrible drunk dare.

"You know this is going to be permanent, you can never erase this from your skin, (Y/N)." His repeated argument was made in a vain attempt as he watched you climb in his workbench, the artist's head snapping to the side when you suddenly started undressing your top without provocation.

"Come on, come on, it would be good! I trust you!" Your drunken stupor mumbles nonchalantly as you ever so slowly pass out from your hangover.

Well now he really can't do anything about it. Xiao sighs as he snaps on his surgical gloves, bashfully running his hand over your entire back in pure adoration before settling on your lower back, where he starts sketching the ordered design— with a few changes here and there as he knows you've always liked about his service.

When he thought he was finished, his hand moves again to redo a finer detail, scratching off the center portion into a totally different design. This would be— his boldest move yet, but it's going to be something you'd (hopefully) not berate him about. And all things were done.

As the tool starts in his hand, he realized that this body part brings immense pain you never had before in your trips. "Sorry," he mumbles as the needle punches at your skin.

You woke up with a scream.

"Remember you can remove the gauze after five hours, nothing more, nothing less. Be very careful on irritations, especially since it's on your back," the ever so vigilant inker expertly recites the precautions without missing a beat as he locks the shop for the night. You were his last appointment for the day and the design finished just in time for closing.

You nod behind with a whine and groan as you fought the urge to scratch at the pain, the numbness lessening the full agony by half at this point.

You're most likely sober now, with light headedness here and there, with the urge to chug a whole liter of water as well as puke your guts out into the nearest bush.

Drunk you must be so proud of themselves.

"Sorry for whatever trouble I might have caused."

"I'm saying sorry in advance for whatever comes out on your back in a month or two."

You grumbled in response at his quip. The angle already makes it hard to make out for your vision, and the scabbing as well as peeling would also obscure the end result of whatever abomination you and him done to yourself. And judging by Xiao's interactions, it's not looking pretty good on your end.

Him revving up his motorcycle snaps you out of your self-deprication and you realized just how late it already was. You never reached after hours in this shop, "Thanks again, Xiao, I'm sure you did your best to make damage control for whatever horror I asked-"

"Are you gonna make me wait more or will you finally get on?"

With a gasp, your head turns to the sigh of the motorcyclist holding out a black helmet with neon accents tailored to your favorite colors. Whatever thoughts you had were erased as you rushed over to his side, bouncing on your tiptoes as you held out your hand for your designated helmet he keeps around whenever you needed a lift.

Xiao flips down his tinted visor to hide the unstoppable smile that creeped up to his lips at the sight of the adorable you. And to indulge, he took the long road.

It wasn't until 90 days later when you barged into his shop while Xiao was in the middle of inking someone, screaming incoherently with a flushed red face, with your hands lifting up to show the tattoo on your back to him.

It still had a few skin waiting to peel off naturally but the vibrant color of his work had started manifesting, the design in entirety easily recognizable in its condition:

A crying pepehands emoji tattoo with his words Xiao written in striking cursive in neon teal and black.

If you wanted him to ink over the pepehands for a more pleasing design, he'd be glad to do so for free.

But the mark of his name stays there. Permanently.

Eheh, early Valentine's gift, dears. I switched. between three damn prompts before finally settling on this.

Special mentions:

@yellowflowre @kookieyachi @anormalguyreader @dandelion-dreams @lehra @starlynxx @reicandies @heiayen @xiaophilia @hanniejji

#genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #Valentines special #collab fic! #exile.flower #fluffy arc #Motorcyclist Xiao #Tattoo artist Xiao #supremacy #gender neutral #fluff arc

[braunbakery]

meet me at our spot (2)

☞ eren jaeger x reader [fem bodied] [chapter word count: 2k]

☞ sfw, fluff, mild angst, modern au, short fic, other characters present

fic plot: before high school, you and eren were best friends. after high school, you and eren are strangers still grasping at those same past threads.

inspired by meet me at our spot by the anxiety

prev. next

2. something’s got ahold of me

a once-off conversation is just that - once-off. so you try to convince yourself there’s no point in dwelling on seeing eren yesterday, or dwelling on how he helped you sit back up, or how he smiled at you before he left. there’s no point. it was just a coincidence, a fluke.

eren has an entire group of friends. armin and mikasa, who you’ve shared a couple classes with and known since they were young. jean kirstein, who’s guts eren swore he hated back in the first couple days of freshman year. connie and sasha, who you know of course because of the commotion that always seems to follow them. he sees them everyday, and he only said he’d see you around as a courtesy.

you repeat this as a mantra over and over in your head, trying to distract yourself from looking up every few seconds the wind causes the leaves outside the treehouse to rustle and the small voice in your head that hopes it’s eren.

you sit cross-legged on the floorboards, pulling out more weird trinkets and drawings from years ago and placing them in a plastic bag to the side. now you know there’s not really any chance of being interrupted by eren again, of being rendered speechless when you’re just trying to get your shit and go (so why does your chest keep sinking whenever you swear that you can hear someone come up the ladder only to be met with an empty doorway?)

at some point you start to get sick of yourself, keeping your head focused on the box in your lap and shoving whatever even seems remotely yours into the plastic bag. so when you hear what distantly sounds like footsteps again, you don’t look up.

“hey,” a voice speaks, and your head lurches up from your hunched over position. it’s eren, hand on the frame of the doorway and peering into the wooden room.

“hi,” you practically squeak out. eren steps in.

“you back again?”

“yeah,” you say, “i still have…some stuff.”

you wonder if knows that’s as soon as he left yesterday you got out of here.

eren leans down and picks up the photo album from yesterday off of the floor, “you want this?”

“oh, you can keep it if you want.”

eren walks closer to you and sits down next to you. he doesn’t seem to notice you watching him carefully, “nah, i remember it was your idea, right?”

“yeah,” you hesitantly confirm, “but theyre our photographs.”

you notice eren freeze and you regret saying that because now he’s looking at you in a way…in a way that makes you feel like he only ever looks at you like that.

“this is one weird custody battle,” eren jokes before putting the photo album back down and grabbing the box in your lap.

“hey!” you exclaim, shoving his arm, “i was literally looking through that.”

“yeah,” eren offers you a shit-eating grin, “and now i am.”

“how are you still so annoying?”

“and how are you still so easy to annoy?” eren moves his face closer to yours.

you feel blood rush to your face and mumble sheepishly, “shut up.”

and with that, eren seems satisfied enough to let you balance the box halfway on his lap and the other half on yours, both of you rummaging through clutter silently as an excuse to sit for a little longer.

you hear an engine rev after eren does and only when you look at him do you realise hes stood up and is practically hanging out of the treehouse in an attempt to peer down at his drive way.

“oh,” he says, and you wonder if it’s more so to himself than to you, “it’s reiner.” it seems dumb, but you only realise he’s speaking to you when he turns back to you like he’s waiting for a response. you’re not really used to all this talking with him. like…talking personally to you and not the you that walks past him every once in a while.

“right.”

“him and a few of the others are coming over to hangout.”

“right,” you start anticipating him bidding you goodbye and climbing back down the ladder, but the goodbye never comes and he still stands over you like he’s deep in thought.

“do you…wanna come?” eren sounds out, like he’s testing out how the syllables feel on his lips.

“…what?” what the hell is he talking about?

“to hang out,” eren says carefully, eyes flicking back and forth between yours, “with us.” he adds.

with eren’s friends? you don’t want to be possessive or weirdly resentful but the first thought you have is that he’s inviting you to sit with the people that he prefers. you have to mentally slap yourself to remember that drifting away is normal, and they’re all probably really nice. and it was four fucking years ago. and you don’t stay friends with the people you knew when you were 8.

“oh…are you sure?” you ask. eren shifts from one foot to the other before taking another step towards you. the box in your lap feels like it’s slipping from your grasp.

“yeah, why not?” he says, and he must notice how he doesn’t sound very convinced of himself either when he watches your eyes droop because he’s quickly interjecting before you can say anything back, “it’ll be fun. come on.”

his hand extends out to you. you want to slap his hand away and tease him, say you don’t need his help, that you’re not an old lady, but your palm is already meeting his and you can already feel calloused fingers over your skin and him pulling you up to stand in front of him.

the short journey between the treehouse to eren’s kitchen is a blur, and saying hi to reiner and who he brought with him (bertolt, you think. as well as connie and jean) is even blurrier, because all of a sudden you find yourself seated on one of the stools in eren’s kitchen and absentmindedly listening to whatever the hell they’re talking about.

you appreciate how eren spares you a glance every once in a while, offering you a close mouthed smile like you haven’t not been in this house since you were 14.

“hey, eren,” reiners voice bellows from the front of the house and you hear him unlock the front door. the look you and eren are sharing is cut short by reiner, “armin, mikasa and sasha are here.”

“‘kay,” eren responds even though the three new visitors are already waltzing into the living room. you’re still frozen in place. you don’t even remember the last thing you said.

“guys, this is my - sasha get out of the fridge - my neigh–” eren tries to start, but sasha is suddenly barreling towards your seat at the kitchen island.

“hi! you’re in my bio class, right?!” sasha excitedly asks you, practically jumping on the spot.

“you mean she was, sasha. we’re not in high school anymore,” connie calls out from behind her. sasha rolls her eyes.

“it’s so nice to see you!”

“thanks…it’s nice to see you too.”

“you’re scaring the girl, sasha,” jean comments before deciding to grab something from the fridge himself. sasha immediately follows after him. you lock eyes with eren again and you realise he had already been watching you.

“hi,” a soft voice greets you, and suddenly mikasa is standing by your seat, “nice to see you again.”

“yeah, it’s been forever,” armin adds from beside her.

“you guys know each other too?” reiner asks from across the room, leaning on one of the kitchen counters next to eren.

“from when we were kids,” you say, flitting your eyes to eren only to find that he’s looking at you again. you want him to stop so you don’t have to focus so hard on speaking anymore, but you want him to keep doing it because it’s nice to know that he’s still knows you’re here. which sounds pathetic but, eren’s got such a big group of friends that sometimes you think it was kind of inevitable that he slowly drifted away from you.

“we all kinda knew each other before high school, reiner,” armin explains, sparing you another smile.

“you and bertolt literally transferred in halfway through freshman year, how do you not know this?” jean calls over to reiner.

“just slipped my mind i guess.”

“he was too busy trying not to be mistaken for a senior,” connie jokes. the room laughs. you try to.

“don’t you mean a security guard?” jean adds. everyone laughs again. you didn’t really spend that much time looking at the two boys when they had transferred, so the joke is kind of lost on you, but you smile along anyways.

“ha-ha, very funny,” reiner sarcastically retorts, “don’t know why you’re laughing, bertolt. think someone mistook you for someone’s dad once.” another eruption of laughter.

you really don’t wanna start feeling out of place (well, more out of place than you did before) but when everyone starts shooting jokes and comments across the room at each other, it gets harder and harder to stretch out a smile over your face at each one. and it gets harder and harder to look up and eren, to watch him laugh along with everyone or have him lock eyes with you again, until you’re all together just staring at your lap.

you think…you think it’s time for you to go.

eren stands at the corner of his kitchen, still leaning against his counter, so you carefully slip out of the stool and make your way towards him, wanting to try your utmost best to make this exchange as short as possible before you go back home.

“i think i’m gonna go,” you say to him quietly, awkwardly staring anywhere other than his face.

“hm?” eren is cut out of the lively conversation with his friends and is looking back at you, lips parted momentarily as his tries to figure out what you said. he takes a step closer towards you and your heart skips a beat, “wait–“

you cut him off, trying to get out of there before you’re reminded even more of how you just faded away from eren’s life, “thanks for inviting me.”

you quickly whisk yourself away to the front door before eren can say anything more, not trying to deal with any more of what always seems like general politeness to you. just as you’re about to step out of the front door, a hand wraps around your wrist when you let go of the door handle and you turn around to be met with eren behind you, looking just as shocked with himself are you are.

“uh…” eren’s gaze shifts between your eyes repeatedly, “is everything okay?”

you look down at his hand around your wrist and back up at him, “yeah. just tired.” you feel his grip loosen but he still doesn’t let go, and a part of you isn’t ready for him to.

“see you around?” he echoes what seems to be his catchphrase. you nod your head in a way that you know isn’t as enthusiastic as what he might like to see. he’s just being polite. today was another coincidence, another fluke, and he isn’t actually going to want to make any effort to see you again. even if you’re just next door. he hasn’t for the past four years.

“yeah,” you quietly respond, slipping your wrist out of his grasp. you can still faintly hear chatter from inside the house. eren watches as you trod down the front steps to his house and make your way back over to your own, the back of your head never turning even just for a second to look back at him.

eren doesn’t like regrets. he doesn’t like wasting time on them, he doesn’t like how they make him feel like he should be in a rush to do something that he’s not even sure of (that he can’t even take back). but as he watches you leave his house, he thinks that if there’s one thing he’d let himself regret, it’d be not realizing he’d fallen away from you before it was too late.

taglist;

@saramelcky @chawyn @sashabrausbrainrot @xadist @dai-tsukki-desu @papiibuprofen @chiaradhea @unicornlover25 @queen-flower

reply to this post to be added to the taglist!

#aot fic #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk fic #snk x reader #aot #aot sfw #eren fic #eren fluff #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren angst #aot modern au #eren x reader

[hansoulo]

whisper scarcely breathing

part four of “Pillar of Salt”

Pairing: Boba Fett/Princess!Reader (she/her pronouns, no Y/N)

Warnings: NC-17, NSFW, explicit language, mentions of canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort but without the hurt, bathing and/or being bathed, choking, female-receiving oral, loss of virginity, unprotected M/F intercourse

Word Count: 6.1k

Image Credit: (x) by @/365filmsbyauroranocte, not meant to be a representation of the reader

A/N: this one is for the boys with the boomin’ system 😩💦

༓ series masterlist ༓

The datapad that you’d left in the garden was thrust back into your possession one morning by the hurried hands of a maid. Truthfully, you had forgotten all about it. The mind, when faced with matters as pressing as the press of a mouth, tends to forget about inconsequential objects.

You’d never met the girl standing in front of you before, and she avoided your eyes while passing over the small screen. She seemed eager to be rid of it. You couldn’t say you blamed her. “‘S yours, miss. The bounty hunter said you’d lost it.”

Did he, now?

“Thank you,” you replied sincerely, careful not to let the datapad drop to the floor as you tucked it back into the deep brocade of your gown pockets. You didn’t have the wherewithal at first to ask her when he’d found it or found the time to return it. But you also didn’t have the common sense to keep your mouth shut. “Could I ask when he gave it to you?”

The servant ducked her head. “This morning, your Highness. I- I was in the loading bay when they left, think he was tryin’ to get a hold of you but didn’t have the time, told me- told me to keep quiet ‘bout it.” A bob of her throat signalled a nervous swallow. “Princess.”

Poor girl, you thought to yourself absentmindedly. Boba probably scared her half out of her wits.

“Really, I can’t thank you enough.” You touched a soft hand to the servant’s shoulder in an misguided attempt to soothe. She returned the action with a nervous smile, eyes still downcast and trying not to shy away.

You never realized how afraid they all were. Of you.

The realization made your tongue tangle in your throat, tripping over some lie about a fever and champagne-induced amnesia as explanation for your exchanges with a man so ill-acquainted.

Hopefully, the maid didn’t make a habit of gossip.

Hopefully, you stopped making a habit of Boba Fett.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

A chaincode, a datapad tracking number, and the rest of your life flashed in backlit neon. You silently cursed yourself for not putting an opening passcode on anything, including the datapad that you now held with slightly tremoring hands.

In your defense, it’s not like it held anything of interest. Mostly just holonovels and some pictures of things you found intriguing enough to want to paint or draw.

But now there was a thing of veritable interest stuffed into a new folder titled “Your Highness” and glowing in galactic basic.

BF-18378-3263827

You stared at the numbers until they morphed into a strong, stern-featured face, muddy in your imagination against the ink night invading your bedroom. Boba left his tracking number there for you. If you wanted to, you could use them to message him or comm him or leave a holoprojection message. Whenever you wanted. Right now, even.

When did he even find your datapad? Why he found it (and why he returned it with the aforementioned numerical contraband) was probably a more apt question.

There was quite a lot to think about. Best to take stock of the present moment, lest you lose your head and go completely mad. As if you hadn’t already.

The facts repeated themselves in a half-conscious mantra, screen slipping out of your hands and onto the pillow beside your head. Facts. Facts were good. What were the facts, again?

Boba Fett was arguably the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy.

Boba Fett was not much of a talker.

Boba Fett was a piss-poor dancer.

And Boba Fett was an unfairly good kisser.

The beginning three points held little negative sway, with the first adding much more appeal than it should, the second a welcome relief, and the third being… sort of endearing.

It was on the last point that your mind lingered the longest.

You didn’t even realize you’d copied numbers into the screen’s communications system until its microphone crackled to life.

One breath, two breaths, stuck in your sleep-thick throat. No words from either side yet. Did you get the tracking code wrong? Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe you were dreaming already, imagining the wind outside to be the quiet, husky inhale that sounded from the other end of the receiver.

“Not falling asleep are we, princess?”

Your eyes shot open. “No. No, I’m…” the words croaked themselves out as you fought down a yawn, “I’m awake.” His low chuckle. “I called you didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Boba assented. Quiet amusement colored his accent. “And you called because…”

“I wanted to,” you said simply, without room for teasing. You were too sleepy to be ashamed of admitting you sought out his company, as foolish as doing so was. No use in hiding what both parties knew to be true.

He let out a noise of soft approval and it rumbled a pleasant sunburst between your ears. “You seem to want a lot of things, don’t you?”

Makes me want… want…

Want what, Princess?

Want you.

You can have me.

The memory snaked a fever flush down your neck, over the still-tender skin and lightly mottled marks. Boba was remembering it just as well as you were. You knew he was.

It gave you a rush, a weird sort of power trip. Because as stupid as you felt doing this, wanting this, he wanted it too. Enough to let your hands thread through his hair and around his arms, then to the scar above his left brow and across his mouth. Enough to let you do it again at the risk of being caught. Enough to leave you his tracking number, like you were two teenagers trading love letters and not legal adults with judgement better enough to do otherwise.

You stayed on the comm for two hours, and only went to sleep because Boba threatened to cut your link off if you didn’t.

⫸———————————————— ⫷

It had been almost five standard months since the first time you’d spoken. Typed words continued to be exchanged under your covers, day after day, night after night. Sometimes you’d fall asleep talking, peppering him with questions about his ship and his job until your throat ached with the effort of keeping yourself awake. Sometimes you did more than talk.

He never fell asleep. Never seemed to sleep, period.

What a strange man. Strange, dangerous, interesting man.

You often missed each other by a hair’s breadth. Courtly flurry and galactic bounty hunting didn’t make much space for private conversation. Boba was still taciturn. You were still naive.

And yet…

You liked him. He listened when you talked about botany and painting, neither of which you imagined interested him. He was arrogant and cocky and insufferable sometimes, but he listened. He told you about his job and regaled your sheltered curiosity with lurid, gory details. He told you about his father.

And one day he somehow, miraculously, had a set of Nabooan watercolors left for you in the garden.

Biting down a juvenile grin with every new message, you watched the quiet ping! of the datapad.

hi

Hello

are you busy?

In a way

how so

Had a brush with Hutt’s rancor

poor thing

Don’t get soft on me now

wasn’t talking about you

Very funny

I’m very, very sorry

Should be. The bastard nearly tore up my flight suit

… show me?

⫸———————————————— ⫷

BF-18378-3263827 HAS ATTACHED 3 FILES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

HOLOCALL DURATION: 02:45:35 HOURS

SAVE CALL RECORDING? PRESS YES/NO TO CONFIRM

Your damp hands tremored.

YES

⫸———————————————— ⫷

Six months, four days, and 20 hours. That’s how long it took for you to see Boba Fett again.

You’d started to think the entire ordeal was a mirage, an illusionary experience your brain conjured up for you as a one-time brush with what your life could have been. Who it could’ve been with.

But you did see him again. Foolhardy, reckless, and unplanned.

You didn’t listen to his explanation about having to leave in the morning, taking some third-rate bounty as an excuse to come back to Quas Killam for the first time in what seemed like ages—practically eons since his mouth had last been at your neck. He appeared on your bedroom balcony near midnight like an apparition, mounted by a still-burning jetpack that shut off with an arc of smoke.

You’d been sleeping, albeit fitfully, and woke the minute his knuckles rapped against the glass. You didn’t remember ever telling him where your bedchambers were, but given… everything… you couldn’t say you were surprised he knew. When he crouched down to shed the helmet, it made a soft thump on the plush carpet.

And then you kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

Boba’s fingertips dragged fire across your prickled skin with every pass. Whose breathing was whose didn’t matter. It was hard, heaving, and shared. Eyes closed, lips raw, every part of you dizzy. Dizzy.

The sneeze that left you was loud enough to knock his forehead against yours. Hard.

Feet stumbling until your legs hit the bedspread, you let your weakened knees carry you down into a sitting position atop the covers and tried to catch your breath. Boba only chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by the mild injury.

Of course your body had picked today to come down with a cold. And of course you’d forgotten to tell him.

In your defense (you seemed to do a lot of self-defending these days) you didn’t know Boba would be coming tonight. When you asked him a week ago—the last time you’d spoken—he’d said “soon.” Whatever “soon” meant, you hadn’t anticipated it being now. Your rumpled nightgown and deteriorating personal hygiene was evidence enough of that.

The day had passed in fitful naps, with you waving away all attempts at help until the servants who usually tittered about decided to give you a wide berth until tomorrow. They’d left the door locked and your curtains drawn, thank the gods.

“A hello would’ve been nice,” you mumbled. The lingering taste of him in your mouth mixed with the bitter medicine that you’d forced down a few hours ago.

Boba didn’t answer at first, only stalking forward with his silhouette glowing in light of the full moon. You brought your knees up to your chest to make room for him to stand in front of you. Every movement was bathed in slowness, in the reverence of caution and night-time silence.

His gloved hand brushed against your chin and tilted it upwards, thumb rubbing a small circle into your jawbone as he moved your face in one large grip. Left, inspecting a swollen mouth and puffy eyes, then right. Up to see the column of your exposed neck. Down to meet his bare, dark face.

He kissed you again, more gentle this time. “Hello.”

A soft whimper left your throat.

Oh, you hated it. Hated the way you sounded when he touched you, small and pathetic. Needy.

The balustrade doors were still open, and this fact was made known by a particularly biting gust of silver wind.

“You’re cold,” the man standing close to you noted with a deep downquirk of his mouth. Boba never had to conceal anything; his helmet did that for him. But when it was off, every thought flickered past his face in evening technicolor.

Your hands paused in their run up your arms to hold petulantly at your elbows, covered only by the thin fabric of your shift. Goosebumps rose against your neck with a new breeze and you fought down the urge to shiver.  “M’not.”

“And stubborn.”

You glared at him, but it held no real venom.

“I appreciate the concern,” you sniffled again and your body trembled slightly. “But I’m the picture of health. I really have never been—” here you sneezed rather violently, crumbling any remaining sense of composure and making the final words thick with congestion, “—any better.” Boba hooked two strong arms underneath your knees and around your shoulders. “Wh- what are you doing?”

“C’mon,” Boba grunted and lifted you to his chest in one swift, easy motion. “Up.”

“I’m already up,” you grumbled, a headache you’d thought was all but gone now throbbing from the quick movement. Armor pressed to your cheek and you let yourself go pliant, curling up into Boba’s broad chest. He smelled nice. Like the outdoors. The real outdoors—not manufactured gardens or stone courtyards. No, dangerous things. Like deserts and leather and guns.

You queried him as he walked in long strides across the room. “Where are you taking me? Should have you—” another sneeze burned your airways, “—have you arrested for treason. A high crime or misdemeanor of some sort, kidnapping royalty...”

He only scoffed, shifting your slack body into his one-armed grip when he arrived at the entrance of your adjunct refresher. The door opened with a soft click. “You talk too much.”

Your head rolled back to face him, pressed so close already that the attempt made you cross-eyed. “And you,” a polished finger jabbed lightly at his chest plate, “are up to no good.”

You were only joking, but Boba didn’t deny it.

Green was your favorite color, even before you met him. It was the color of gardens. Of mint leaves. Of insects and jewels. Of him.

Gods, he was beautiful. Did he know that? Would he ever believe you if you told him? He was achingly, painfully, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The man set you down to your immediate protests. Funny how quick you seemed to change your mind. “Don’t whine,” he chided when you did just that, pushing you forward by the small of your back.

You walked into the refresher confused, that same confusion compounding when Boba strode over to the marble bathtub in room’s center with a surety that belayed the fact he’d never once stepped foot inside here. Were all bounty hunters this self-assured? Or was he just so full of bathroom bravado that your sprawling floor-plan didn’t faze him?

Whatever the case was, said bounty hunter was now crouched down on the tile floor and twisting the tub faucets until they sprayed out a gush of hot water, quickly filling the room with heady steam.

 “Hot water helps.” A still-gloved hand dipped an inch into the filling tub and deemed it acceptable. “The steam’ll clear up those sneezes of yours. And the headache.”

“How did you know I-” your mouth opened and closed before you realized you didn’t do a great job of hiding your symptoms. Maker knows you looked a sight, all mussed and tired and sticky with cold sweat. He should make a run for it now, you half-joked to yourself. He’s only ever seen me stuffed into a corset and done up half to death.

He got up with a grunt and turned back towards you. Beskar and durasteel and tactical fabric suddenly made you feel, for the first time in your life, underdressed. “‘S not hard to tell, princess.”

“Oh,” was your only response as you pushed off the sink counter, fisting the fabric of your nightgown in an unconscious display of hesitancy.

Boba’s heavy boots made for the door.

It was probably just to leave you some semblance of privacy, but you panicked, not wanting to be left alone now that he was finally here. “Wait!” you burst out, reaching a palm onto his shoulder before he could exit. “Wait. Can— can you stay?” Of course he won’t stay, you dolt. He probably came to sleep with you, not babysit you. “Please?”

Both of his hands curled into themselves when he turned back to you, their leather squeaking in the tight flex. Then, they released limp by his sides. Each word was carefully measured, slow-simmering like a pot about to boil over. Like a trigger finger twitchy on a blaster. “If you want me to.”

You answered with a bobbing nod and a swallow. “I do.”

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba Fett had long since forgotten he was a man. Instead, he was armor. He was a code, a set of  strict (albeit grey) morals, the steadfast honor he’d been imbibed with from the years with his father and then the years of tearing emptiness after.

Bounty hunters had no time for attachments. They couldn’t afford to humor every batting eyelash with more than a self-serving flirtation, and he’d had his fill of those already. He’d overflowed his cup ten times over with shallow pleasantries and quick release.

But those days were long-gone. Had been for years now. Now he was practically puritanical.

Had been, anyway.

He didn’t like thinking of himself as impulsive, wanting to leave the trait behind in his younger years but not being old enough to shake it off completely. But he wasn’t impulsive anymore. He wasn’t.

You were going to destroy him.

Low-ranking royalty on some Imperial-occupied factory planet; sheltered and pretty. You had the brightest eyes he had ever seen and a temperament that took no prisoners, and you were going to destroy him.

Boba thought you’d make him leave, but you didn’t. You wanted him to stay and told him so.

So he stayed. His armor was peeled off in your presence for the first time— carefully placed on a chair in your bedroom—and he walked back into the refresher to see you untying your flimsy nightdress like it’d done you a personal wrong.

When it dropped beside your feet, it took every ounce of self-control Boba possessed to stop himself from eating you whole.

He heard you kick it to the floor (his eyes had since been very determinedly fixed on a fascinating piece of groutwork near his left foot) before you stepped into the bath, sighing in a way that made breathing a work harder than it should’ve been.

His looking away wasn’t a request on your part, you didn’t seem to mind either way, but he didn’t trust himself to do otherwise. Not until the sounds of splashing had subsided somewhat, signalling your stilled motion. “Boba?”

Now there was permission to walk. Look down. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, left foot. Right foot, the clawfoot of the bathtub. He had reached his destination.

A wet hand tugged at his belt loops and he finally allowed himself to look, meeting the sight of you sitting bare in the clear-blue water with legs pulled up to your chest. The arm not touching him was roped around your calves. Your chin rested on the wide, curved lip of the tub.  

If Boba had any self-respect, it had been snuffed out the first moment you opened your mouth, six months ago in that cavernous palace hallway with your failed attempt at bravado. It was haughty, short-lived, and adorable.

Maker, you were beautiful. Did you know that? Would you ever believe him if you told you? You were blindingly, effervescently, humanly beautiful. It hurt like needles.

The position of your chin forced your lips into a slight pout. As if you needed another weapon in your arsenal of ways to make him question his judgement. “Could you bring me the tray on the counter?”

Of course he could. He could bring you anything you liked. He would bring you a rancor, a dozen rancors, a fucking sarlaac if it meant you would smile all soft-like the way you just did when he answered yes.

Boba Fett, mercenary feared farther than he would ever live to travel and hunter too expensive for the Imperial payroll, was now a bath attendant. It was torturous in its sensual irony.

The tray was brought over in short order, cluttered with tiny vials of Maker-knows-what and bars of who-knows-how. Individually they probably all smelled nice, but crowded together the heavy scents only made his head spin. He set the tray down on the floor with a rattle and held up each mystery soap for your inspection. No. No. No. No, not that one. Gods, you were picky. No. No. Yes, please.

You were Miss Manners tonight apparently.

“It’s floating archidia,” you told him, mind running through an endless backlog of plant indexes as he handed over the soap. You sounded clearer now, less congested and more alert. Needed to drink water, though. “The flower that this is made with, I mean. Native to the planet Nubia, rumored to have euphoric properties.” You snorted and ran a thumbnail along the bar’s waxy edge, bringing up a curled pink piece. “Whatever that means.”

“Do you think it does?”

“Have euphoric properties?” you hummed, considering it for a moment. “Maybe. But maybe it’s just wishful thinking.”

“Wishful thinking,” Boba parroted.

The meaning of words can change when they’re repeated. Neither of your minds were on flowers.

His jaw tensed when you reached your other hand to his forearm, baring the rest of your body to the dim orange of the refresher lights’ night settings. The water rippled, warm now instead of steaming, and your fingers curled around the scarred skin of his wrist. “Take off the gloves,” you echoed, your voice suddenly desperate and distant as you traced over pale leather seams. “Please.”

He had refused the first time simply to toy with you. You weren’t used to being told no, and it showed. But he let you take off his helmet in a moment of thoughtless self-indulgence, scratching the part of his subconscious that itched to be touched, stroked, held. Shedding the helmet in front of someone else didn’t really mean anything in an honorable sense—at least not to Boba. Nothing tied him to the habit except a desire to keep himself and his motivations unknown. It was easier that way. Less messy.

He acquiesced. "Since you asked so nicely."

Wrinkling your nose, you guided newly-bare palms to knead gently at your shoulder blades. The skin there was soft and warm, pliant under his sandpaper touch. "Keep mentioning it and I'll go back to being difficult."

The soap made foamy bubbles across your back, over your arms and the velvet slope of your hips. Fingertips ghosted through the space between your jaw and ear, where he remembered sucking in a soft bruise.

He liked being known by you.

⫸————————————————⫷

You clambered out the tub with all the grace of a baby krugga deer and about as much shame. Which is to say, none at all. The subsiding cold had left you tired, bones like jelly and mind sloshing its thoughts around with no real order. Boba was here. Had stayed. Was standing in front of you now, watching tiny water droplets trail down your feet and letting you balance on his arm to keep you from stumbling.

A towel was wrapped around your shoulders. The press of his hot mouth against your forehead followed close behind. “Go sit on the bed.”

For some reason, you didn’t mind listening to him this time. Chalk it up to moldable exhaustion, you thought. Definitely not the fact that his voice sounded especially nice tonight, or any number of other questionable reasons.

He was going to ruin you. Or you would ruin yourself. Any way it was construed, Boba would play a part.

Still only in a towel, you drank the stale tea that sat on your bedside table and watched in mild interest as the mercenary’s shadow emptied out tepid bathwater with the thick glugluglug of the drain. It washed down soap and all your shared secrets.

Was it wrong that you still wanted him? More, now that he’d done this for you? Now that it wasn’t just cruel kisses and groping hands? What sort of a person did that make you?

Your mind whispered it when Boba walked back towards you. Someone lonely.

He helped you slide a new chemise on when you asked him to, quick and steady over the thin linen ties. I bet you do that with all the girls, you’d teased. No, he answered simply. Just you.

He was going to ruin you.

“Do you have to go yet?” you asked quietly and climbed under the covers. They were green today. Life enjoyed coincidences like that.

Boba crouched down on the floor beside your lying figure and shook his head. A wide fingertip smoothed away the crease between your brows. He was doing lots of touching. You were not complaining. “Not ‘til morning.”

“You might as well then,” you mumbled and lifted up the embroidered blankets with a sleep-slack hand. “No one’ll bother us, I promise.” you answered the empty air, too heartsick to comprehend any possible insinuations and too tired to realize the fingers tracing your brow bone had paused. “I told them all not to come back until tomorrow.”

His shirt and pants were shed in an unceremonious pile. You were already half-asleep when he climbed into the other side of the bed, slotting his legs against yours like puzzle pieces. Two question marks curled into each other, his chest to your back and his lips brushing your head.

“Goodnight, princess.”

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dreaming about him.

He was the burning sun that every single one of your thoughts had orbited around for the last six months and now he was invading your subconscious, dream-talons taking the form of dark hands rubbing soft circles against you and then invading your open mouth.

In your dream, Boba touched you softly and not at all, a tease even in your self-serving imagination.

Then you woke up, and it wasn’t a dream anymore.

Two thick arms encircled your waist with a grip unyielding in their strength. They’d pulled you impossibly close, pressed up against his sleeping body until every ridge of his muscled stomach could be felt against your back. Something else was against your back.

Your head reeled in its effort to sludge through the fog of sleep and reach the reality of masculine hips. They shifted in an unintentional grind against your legs until you couldn’t bite back the gasp that bubbled out from your voicebox, the sound quiet, keening, and lost in the shuffled sounds of fabric. It was still dark out. The water-clock in the corner of your room read 01:25:02.

You hadn’t put on anything underneath the new chemise. Why bother, when he’d already seen everything? Your body had grown to be a thing for display, a clothes-hanger and object to be prodded by strangers, and you’d long since rid yourself of any precocious modesty.

But this was different.

When Boba touched you, it wasn’t to sew flowers in your hair or drape a sash over your chest. It was simply to touch. The thought made you light-headed with newfound embarrassment, wiggling in his grip until you turned to face his sleeping form.

All the heavy things he carried on his shoulders during the day were gone now. His bottom lip pillowed out when he slept and he looked younger, the perpetual downturn of his lips now settled below the black hair at his temples. You felt a sticky sort of fondness settle in your chest.

“Boba,” you whispered, two hands placing themselves on his tanned cheeks. They traced the divots of scars and premature lines with all the reverence of worshipfulness.

“Mmm,” his voice rumbled with eyes still closed. A warm mouth kissed the side of your palm.

“Boba,” you repeated, more desperate this time but not knowing what you were desperate for. The space between your legs already knew what it wanted, hot and pulsing with a familiar dampness. Traitor.

“What do you need?” The question wasn’t accusatory, nor annoyed at your waking him. It was known that he would give you whatever you liked. Eventually.

You. Just you.

“I don’t,” you huffed, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your now overheated body as you squirmed, “I don’t know.” Lie.

“Think about it and tell me,” he whispered, eyes opening in their dark, heavy-lidded expectation. The moon and stars suspended outside offered light enough to see the smirk on his face. His skin was the color of burnt earth and of gods. Somewhere, far away in the canopy of carefully pruned trees, a single lark let out its warbled cry.

There was an old adage about being like a lamb to the slaughter. You’d never touched a lamb. Never seen a slaughter. But somehow, you knew it was true.

This lamb, dumb and tender-hearted, was willingly sacrificied.

"I...'' the word left you in the arc of your exhale, one whoosh of air that rattled your chest already wracked with fevered tremors. "I- want you to-"

"You want me to what, pretty thing?" His voice was low, dangerous. It made every part of you want him more. "Say it."

You weren't used to cursing. It was never tolerated and you barely ever heard it, but you'd learned enough to know what he wanted you to say. Which word he wanted to hear, and what it'd mean he would do.

"F-fuck. Me." you choked out, biting your lip to muffle the embarrassment of having to speak it out loud. The word was filthy and raw between your teeth. "Please?"

⫸————————————————⫷

You were dying. Possibly had already died. Were ascending up or barrelling down, you didn’t care as long as his wet mouth stayed between your legs and never, ever stopped.

Wide hands cupped at your skin and kneaded wherever they could reach, simultaneously rough and supplicating. Every pass of his tongue was enough to make you feel possessed. He was killing you.

“Good. Good girl.” he said against your swollen skin when your hips arced off the bed, your spine and toes stiffening for what seemed like an eternity during the damp lightning finish. It sounded like a growl, animalistic and vibrating. A burning, sweet hurt.

Some people call it “little death,” a lady’s maid once whispered underneath her hand in a giggle. “Little death?” you repeated incredulously. That seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?

You understood now.

Boba didn’t let up, never once letting his touch waver even as you buckled and swayed, all sense lost and all sensation compacting.  “Another,” he ordered. Your body listened, bending to his touch without complaint with eyes rolled back into your head.

You were dying.

⫸————————————————⫷

Boba let you lay against him in the downturn, rubbing mindless shapes into the bone of your wrists as you struggled to breathe. Your neck was cradled in one of his broad, bronze palms. It gave one tiny, imperceptible squeeze. An accident. A test.

You pawed at the hand resting heavy on your nape until it moved to leave completely, but was caught instead by your fingers and guided—slow and curious—to cup at your bared throat.

“Dirty,” the man noted in a dark rasp and rolled over to face you. There was a slight smirk in his voice, but that could’ve just been your imagination.

“I don’t see you...” your voice trailed off into a wheeze as Boba’s thick fingers pressed into the sides of your neck, “—see you complaining.”

He kissed you. And kissed you. And kissed you. An eternity was spent opening the seam of your mouth while he choked you softly, baring your pulsating soul with only your bedroom walls as witness to the present depravity. The air was filled with begging and grunting—simple noises that stuttered and left your sheets ruined.

You wanted more. You couldn’t help it.

His chuckle morphed into a groan when you reached down to touch him with widening eyes, squeezing him curiously after pulling down his boxers. “You’re a brave little thing,” Boba noted with a hint of greedy pride. “Never done this before, have you?”

Your own hands served as poor substitutes all these years. You shook your head no.

“D’you want to?”

Of course you did. This was the only thing you wanted. The only thing you would ever want, over and over until your body turned to dust under him. A million grains of fizzy, burning blaster powder. A million comets passing by a supernova.

You nodded and tucked your face into the space between Boba’s shoulder and neck, rolling onto your side and hooking a leg over his hip. Your chests met, damp with sweat as cool air flowed over bare skin. The covers had long since been pushed aside. “Safe,” you said in a heady moan over the shell of his ear. “Implant.”

Thank goodness for modern medicine.

⫸————————————————⫷

It hurt a little at first, but most of the discomfort melted away as he whispered to you, sweet and cloying praises alongside filthy things that you’d be hard-pressed to repeat in public. They wove together in an endless stream of baritone vowels, lapping over each other like ocean waves until everything was a gyrating, syrupy playback.

He let you move against him, mouth open and sloppy against your temple when you whined at the stretch. The hands at your back didn’t push. Only placated. “I know, I know,” Boba assured you with fingers rubbing sympathetic desire into your flesh. It would bruise, but you’d come to like the marks. Your hips bucked at their own accord when he pressed up against something tight, the friction burning a bright, numb spark. “Slow down,” he mumbled into your hair, “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Never in your life did you think this was how it would be. Your first kiss, more of a battle than it was a kiss, served as fuel for the expectations of your first time. Never in your life did you think he would be the one telling you to go slow.

It was for your sake, you knew that. But it was still surprising.

You huffed and bit the shell of his ear in childish revenge, blowing a puff of air where you knew it would tickle. Boba only growled and tightened his arms around your waist, rocking into you slow and deep. “Don’t tease,” he warned.

The new movements robbed you of the ability to speak until all you could do in response was lift your head from where it had rested on his shoulder, meeting impossibly dark eyes in lust-addled vision as a building pressure colored the entire world in shades of black, red, and green.

In a moment of complete and utter lack of propriety, you leaned forward, smiling like a woman deranged, and pressed a kiss to his nose.

Boba came undone the same minute you did. It was a rush of wet, rocking pleasure, spreading like thick webs of lighted fire from inside your blood and out to fill the room with quiet devotion. Panting, bursting, close, messy. You’d never felt so whole.

Your foreheads met and you went cross-eyed trying to look at him again. That’s all you wanted to do. Look at him. Uttered underneath his jaw, where the skin was smooth, was your finishing admission. “I love you.”

You didn’t say it to hear it repeated. It was just to give it a shape. Make it concrete. Said more to yourself than him, really.

But Boba did repeat it. Over and over and over. In the tangle of your arms. I love you. In the kiss to your breasts. I love you. In the towel brought between your legs. I love you. In the settled silence of new sleep. I love you, I love you, I love you.

⫸————————————————⫷

The watery light of dawn melted through heavy curtains and you awoke, body weighed down with lead and gold. Sweet soreness had made its home in your muscles and you were loath to get up, but the man you’d been using as a pillow had very rudely left his post.

“I have to go,” he said, already awake and standing sentry by your bed. You raised your head up from the pillows in groggy protest to meet his blurry figure. If you squinted, there were three of him standing there at once.

A shake of your head rid your vision of the doubles, leaving the lone man. He kissed you—quick and dirty, with tongue—and squeezed your exposed breast, prompting a low moan to tumble from your mouth before he slipped his blaster into the holster at his hip. It wasn’t even 6 in the morning and you were thoroughly debauched. What a scandal, you thought (not for the first time) with passing amusement. A bounty hunter and a princess.

Watching in a dim haze as Boba finished strapping on his amor, you tracked the reflection of the sun in the metal’s lazy movement.

He leaned over you. “I’ll be back soon.” Soon. What did soon mean? Another kiss, slow and careful on the bow of your mouth. One more on the slope of your forehead. For luck, you supposed. Whether it was for you or him didn’t matter much. “Promise.”

Slowly, as he climbed out onto your balcony and was gone with a flash of jetpack light, you wondered if it was a mirage; a dream, maybe. The entire night a hallucinatory haze, a figment of your overactive imagination and reckless romanticism.

But the towel left discarded on the floor and the pulsing ache between your legs was very, very real.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett/reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett x you #boba fett fic #boba fett oneshot #boba fett imagine

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Cheryl//you can’t go through life trying not to get hurt

Request: So can I ask for a cheryl x reader where r does everything to make cheryl happy and just being supportive of her?

hey! i kind of got just a little bit carried away with this. but i think i pulled it back! i hope you like it! also, i know the title is an archie quote but i don’t really care because it fits and i like it! plus, they’re both red-heads so what’s really the difference? 

- We know Cheryl hasn’t had the best life 

- Her entire family and everything to do with it is tainted

- So for a long while, she thinks she’s tainted to

- And when she meets you 

- On a rainy Friday night, sat by Sweetwater River

- With your hair plastered to your face and the brightest smile she’s ever seen 

- She knows she has to stay away from you

- Because anybody who can be that happy sat in the pouring rain 

- Is somebody too pure for her 

- So she turns around and heads back to her car 

- Deciding that if she wants to be alone, she can just do it at home

- But then she hears it

- Your voice

- So soft, but so demanding 

- And you’re calling her name 

- Her name has never sounded so pretty 

- Even if it is coming from a complete stranger, who’s staring at such a dark place like its the most beautiful thing in the world

- ‘yea-yeah?’

- Her confidence slips for just a few seconds and its purely down to the way you’re looking at her 

- Like she’s filled with magic and wonder and mystery 

- A mystery you’re going to solve 

- Spoiler alert...you do

- ‘come sit’ You pat the rock beside you and she glances warily between you and it 

- It may have stopped raining but that rock is still very wet and she’s wearing a new skirt 

- ‘oh come on. live a little’ Your eyes sparkle as you speak 

- She eventually concedes and sits beside you

- Now she just has to make sure she doesn’t give too much away 

- Never let anyone else in

- Its the mantra she’s been repeating for as long as she can remember 

- This time she’s going to stick to it 

- Spoiler alert...she doesn’t

- Because thats easier said than done when a pretty girl is asking her questions 

- Or just paying attention to her tbh

- So she asks you questions instead 

- ‘how do you know who i am?’ 

- Normally she’d be afraid of a complete stranger who knew her name

- But this time, she’s just curious 

- She wants to know who you are 

- Why you’re in Riverdale?

- How has a town so full of dark secrets and awful people managed to capture you?

- She’s expecting a long winded explanation about how you just moved from a big city

- Because lets be real, thats the only place she can picture you living 

- But instead you just laugh 

- Such a light, unexpected laugh

- And now she’s unsure of what to say 

- What do you say to that?

- ‘i know a lot about a lot’ 

- ‘wow’ She mutters 

- She couldn’t help it 

- She is Cheryl Blossom after all 

- She can’t been seen as anything other than a bitch 

- But when she see’s the flash of hurt in your eyes 

- She can’t help but feel even more like the worst person in the world 

- She mumbles a quick apology and looks at the river instead 

- ‘its fine.’ You shrug. ‘you’ve been through a lot’ 

- ‘how do you know?’ 

- ‘i just do. but you will be okay cheryl, and don’t worry, you could never taint anything. i don’t think you’re capable of even leaving a trace of something bad.’ 

- She really wants to say something 

- But what the hell do you say to that? 

- And when she turns to face you, hoping the right words will find their way somehow 

- You’ve vanished 

- For a split second she thinks you’re a ghost 

- Its not the first time she’s had full on conversations with the dead 

- But then she hears a thud

- Followed by a groan and a small ‘ow’ 

- And it makes her laugh 

- Like properly laugh 

- The first she has in a while 

- She watches you stand and give her an awkward wave before actually disappearing 

- For the rest of the weekend you’re the only thing she can think of 

- By the time Monday rolls around she’s determined to find you 

- It can’t be hard 

- You’ve got to be a new student

- And Betty gives tours to all the newbies 

- She’ll just ask her 

- Thats easier said than done though

- She tried looking for her cousin before classes started 

- She even came in early 

- But no luck 

- So she has to wait until lunch time 

- And that makes her worry 

- By lunch time, you could have been told literally everything about her 

- How her brother was murdered by her father 

- How awful her mother is 

- She was almost assaulted 

- She attempted suicide 

- And she joined a cult 

- Just to name a few 

- Riverdale High is a breeding ground for rumours 

- Usually created by her 

- But they spread fast around here

- When lunch time rolls around, she’s sure you’re going to know how much of a train-wreck she actually is 

- Despite all of that though 

- Something inside her wills her to ask Betty about you 

- She then goes on to describe everything she remembers about you 

- Maybe in a little too much detail 

- ‘she had sparkly y/e/c eyes’ 

- ‘and y/c/h hair that framed her face in just the nicest way’ 

- ‘and her smile...it was wonderful’ 

- ‘...right. did you get a name?’

- ‘if i got her name do you really think i would be here right now?’ 

- ‘che-’ Betty is cut off by someone calling her name 

- The sound of it making Cheryl feel like she can’t breathe 

- She knows that voice 

- Even Betty’s name sounds nice when coming from her 

- From you

- But hold on

- You’re hugging Betty 

- Thats way too friendly for someone you’ve only known for half a day 

- ‘hi cheryl’ Your wave is less awkward than it was on Friday night, but your smile is just as cheerful as you look at the red head. 

- Okay, now she definitely doesn’t know what to say

- Betty quickly puts two and two together and smirk appears on her lips as she looks between the two of you 

- She has known about your small crush on Cheryl for a while 

- So she decides to help you out 

- ‘what were you saying about y/n’s smile? it was amazing? no! wonderful!’ 

- ‘shut up betty. i think your boyfriend wants you’ 

- She’s practically shooing Betty away and she mutters something under her breath but walks away anyway 

- Once she’s gone, Cheryl turns back to you and just stares at you 

- ‘so, you go here?’ 

- ‘yep?’ 

- ‘how long?’ She really doesn’t want to know the answer 

- ‘as long as you have’ You don’t seem annoyed when she looks at you 

- The opposite in fact

- You kind of look amused 

- ‘how have i not noticed you?’ 

- ‘you’ve been pre-occupied I suppose’ 

- ‘how can i make it up to you?’ 

- ‘notice me’ 

- ‘i’ve definitely already done that.’

- ‘take me to pops then’ 

- She never wanted to do something more

- But she’s torn 

- She wants to say no. To keep you safe from her and everything that come with being involved with a Blossom 

- But the way you’re looking at her makes her knees weak and her head dizzy 

- So she says yes 

- And its the best decision she’s ever made

- At first you take it slow 

- She’s been hurt before 

- And she’s hurt other 

- But something that makes it easier is the fact that you already know everything about her 

- Even if you were in the background during most of it 

- She’s so excited to get to know you

- One of the first things she learns is how you’ll do anything to make the people you love happy 

- Especially her 

- She’s quite literally never met anybody like you 

- You’re just so supportive of her 

- Nobody has ever treated her like that 

- So at first she doesn’t really know what to do 

- But then she remembers the night you met 

- And how you were so kind to her 

- Even though she didn’t know who you were 

- And she slowly starts to get used to it

- In return she learns how to be more supportive of others

- Something her friends are incredibly grateful for 

- To the actual supporting/happy bit because I kind of got a bit carried away 

- Whenever she’s sad 

- Whether it be because she’s missing Jason 

- Her mom/other family members have made an unwelcome appearance in her life 

- Someone has been rude to her 

- Or she’s just sad

- You will do literally anything and everything to make her smile 

- Cuddles? Hell yeah! 

- She wants to stay in bed all day? That sounds like an amazing day.

- She wants to watch her favourite film/tv show? Definitely

- ‘where do you keep your dvd’s?’ 

- ‘what century are you living in? you know there is a thing called the internet.’ 

- She wants her favourite food from Pops? You’re already out the door 

- You’ll go for drives around town while she tells you stories of her and Jason 

- Or you’ll let her teach your archery or some other weird hobby she has 

- Plus, you’ll tell her all the stupid jokes you know 

- Usually she laughs more out of pity than humour

- But it still counts 

- ‘sure it does babe’ 

- And if someone has made her angry 

- It doesn’t really take much

- But you’re working on it 

- You are 100% behind her if she wants to ruin their life (in moderation) 

- You go along with whatever crazy plan/scheme she’s though of that week

- She wants to start a business? Where do you sign? This is the best idea ever 

- Steal something from somebody thats wronged her? Where is the best place to buy spy-wear 

- Create a little chaos? You’ve already got three ideas planned out you just need her approval

- Its not just silly things either 

- She decides she wants to go to therapy (everybody in this town needs it, including Pop). You’ll go with her and wait outside of every single session if she wants you to. 

- You usually spend the time googling how to help her (she just thinks you spend the entire time on Instagram) 

- She wants to properly cut off her family (with the exception of Nana Rose and the twins). You 100% support her if thats what she wants

- As your relationship grows, so does your support 

- She’s literally never felt more loved than when she’s with you 

- And you make it a mission to make her feel like this for the rest of her life 

- Spoiler alert...you do

support my writing! if you want! 

#cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl blossom x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine #cheryl #cheryl imagine #cheryl x reader

[iv-aur-y]

‘𝑔;- me..?

me..? ;; liyue ver.

prompt ;; i was so afraid of loving myself, that i didn't realize that you loved me more than, i, myself

characters ;; ganyu, shenhe & xiao

All but devilish thoughts hid in the details, all but those who grief an yearn to correct their past sins cry at heart. And so they hide themselves, fixated to look the least bit desirable.

They find a mask, paint it the colours of those that contrast them and they wear it as their pride and joy. But they know all to well, just how much that mask holds no sincerity; Devil is in the detail.

𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕤 · acceptance & longing

“And then these horns?” she sniffled. The half-Qilin couldn’t stand being stared at, that’s why she opted to bury herself in her work. She had been drowning in the documents she was to manage.

“You want my honest opinion?” she nodded but her eyes told a different story. Hoping she could get the message across with just her eyes, she held the latter’s gaze. And [Name] took a deep breath━oh no, it looks like she didn’t understand.

Instinctively closing her eyes out of hesitation, her hands were shaking and her lip was trembling. Picking to bite down on it to stop herself, and clutch her hands into tightly curled up fists. But her periwinkle hues parted slightly as she felt the latter’s residual warmth press up against her forehead. “Because you find them questionable, I think of them as beautiful. For every flaw you think you have, is every strength I think you hold.” 

“If you don’t know how to love yourself, it’s only fair I teach you how to.”

𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕒 𝕕𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕤 · calamity

“I’m someone who will bring disaster to the world.” she leaned in, and Shenhe irked at the fact that stupid grin was plastered all over her features. “Then, I guess it’s too bad I can’t tell the difference between what’s good for me and what it isn’t.”

If it wasn’t for the expression on her face, the exorcist would have already closed the gap between their lips. “Foolish.”

“Yes, quite.” the exorcist’s periwinkle hues scorned her features, sharp gaze intent on seeming harmful. To drive calamity away from those who she holds dear, and to isolate herself so can harm neither people nor animals.

“Despicable.” she pouted. “If you continue,” [Name] paused, and the exorcist became partially conflicted at what the female was thinking. “I’ll just have to shut you up myself.”

“How? Are you provoking me?”

“No dummy, I’m saying... I’m this close to kissing you right now.” Well, I suppose she found the time to cave. Maybe the look of determination that stood strong in her eyes was what she fell for the very first time, she felt candid security and stability whenever gazing into her eyes so maybe, just maybe ...

“Quit stalling then, I’m impatient.” 

𝕒𝕝𝕒��𝕦𝕤 𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕠𝕤 · grief & yearning

“Is that so?” she hummed. Her finger trailing the tattoo on his arm, there was a creeping sensation that her touch resonated with against his skin, like as if setting him on fire. “You’ve killed many people with these hands, right?”

“Do you ever stop to think about them ever?” no response. “That’s fine, too. The past is to be left alone anyway. Whatever was done cannot be changed.”

She looked up, her spare hand lifting his chin to face her. “It’s not your fault, you hear?”

“How can you say that so easily?” Questions, oh questions. He wasn’t too sure of that either, the first time he killed, he too thought, it’s not my fault. And though he repeated it like a mantra, the blessing of it died down.

Like a small flicker of a flame, the oxygen needed to keep it alive slowly began to leave. So blood sprayed at him as he cleave his polearm into the ground where lifeless eyes stared eerily into him.

It was no longer anyone else’s fault, but his alone. The sins leaving heavy scars on his skin that no one saw but him. If it wasn’t his fault, his heart wouldn’t feel so heavy.

A snap. The sound echoed in his ear; 

“Because deep down, I know,” she placed his hand over her chest, while she brought her own up to his. The warmth of her body drifting to his gloved hand, the beating sensation of her heart drumming against the fabric. “At heart, you’re not as bad of a person you make yourself out to be.”

#xiao #ganyu #shenhe #genshin impact #the mondstadt version was to release first but ykw i cant get past kaeyas part #so cry about it ig? #lol im sorry i think around next week i should be able to get over it

[sophiashortcake]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 🍰

“I GUESS I’M JUST A PLAY DATE TO YOU.”

previous ❀ next ❀ series masterlist

𝟐𝟒. it’s always been you

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: kicked out of her home with no place to go, y/n is forced to move into her family friend’s home, who coincidentally is also the family of tsukishima kei, the boy who denied her confession.

Your eyes still sting when you wake up.

You had no idea how long you had been asleep, but it must’ve not been for very long since it was still dark outside. You heard Yachi softly snoring next to you on the futon, and Kiyoko’s light breathing from her bed. You rubbed your still puffy eyes as you felt around for your phone, turning it on to see the time.

3:15am

89 missed calls from Oikawa Tooru.

72 missed calls from Tsukishima Kei.

632 unread texts.

You underestimated the wave of notifications that would sweep your phone after the party, so you had decided to just turn it off altogether, too distraught from tonight’s events to even manage to look at your phone.

The texts were from friends and strangers alike, some asking you how you were, some wanting more information about what happened. You spent the next few minutes deleting any unwanted texts, and more importantly ignoring the texts and calls from Kei and Tooru.

Your heart clenched whenever your eyes skimmed over your notifications and you spotted Kei and Tooru’s names. Your head was still foggy with exhaustion from sobbing earlier that you couldn’t even begin to describe the betrayal you felt with Oikawa, and not to mention whatever the hell you felt for Kei.

You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from resurfacing, only to wipe away stray mascara still clinging to your eyes. Great, you forgot to wash off your makeup too.

You quietly rolled off the futon, quietly creeping to the bathroom making sure not to wake up Yachi and Kiyoko.

As you entered the bathroom, you were greeted by your reflection in the mirror. Your face was puffy from crying with your eyes still rimmed red. Half of your makeup was cried off, the rest smeared across your face. You looked as much of a wreck as you felt.

You scavenged around Kiyoko’s bathroom for some makeup wipes and face wash, thankfully finding some in the cabinet. You spent the next few minutes cleaning yourself up to a presentable state.

You splashed water on your face, the cool water relieving your eyes. You looked back up at yourself, glad that you atleast didn’t look like a mess now (physically anyway, emotionally was another issue). You exhaled in relief, and got yourself ready to climb back into bed.

Then your phone buzzed, Oikawa’s caller ID flashing on your screen.

Your hand paused on the bathroom doorknob, trying to subside any urge to pick up and answer the call. Do not answer, do not answer, you repeated in your head, hoping the mantra stuck.

You knew you shouldn’t answer. But how couldn’t you?

With a shaky hand, you picked up.

“Y/N, oh thank god-“ Oikawa said shakily into the phone, you could tell he had been crying.

“What do you want?” You muttered softly, as to not wake your friends in the other room, but more so you couldn’t bring yourself to speak strongly.

“Can we talk? Please? I need to explain.”

“Fine, you have two minutes.”

“No, no, I want to explain myself in person.”

“Tooru, it’s 3am.”

“Y/N, please.”

You paused. What possible explanation could Oikawa give you? I’m sorry I ruined your reputation numerous times? I’m sorry I nearly ruined your relationship with Kei? I’m sorry I lied to you for months? But the only reason resentment didn’t entirely consume you was because this was Tooru, your best friend.

“Fine,” you spat, “I’ll meet you at the park by your house.”

Without another word, you hung up.

You quietly left the bathroom, hoping not to wake Yachi and Kiyoko who were still soundly asleep next door. You carefully crept your way downstairs, and slid out the front door. You shot Kiyoko a text in case she woke up to your empty futon.

3:42am

You: I’m going to meet Oikawa.

The only company you had on your walk to the park were your thoughts, leaving you to replay the party, Oikawa, and Kei. With all that had happened with Oikawa, you hadn’t even processed what Kei had done at the party yet.

Honestly? It scared you. You had never seen Kei act so angry before, even when he thought you were the one who told MiyagiTea that you were living together. That was bitter and resentful; what Kei had done at the party was rage. The way Kei had looked at Oikawa made your blood run cold, you geniunely believed he was going to murder Oikawa had you not stepped in.

Had he been that infuriated by Oikawa? But a small thought buzzed in the back of your head, maybe he had done that for you.

You felt how he relaxed under your grip when you tugged at his shirt as an attempt to stop him from totally beating Oikawa, and the way his gaze softened when he turned around to face you. Had you coaxed him out of his anger?

You shook away your wishful thinking, knowing you were only getting your hopes up. He said it himself, there’s no way he would ever have feelings for you. But still, you couldn’t help but mull over how Kei had softened against you.

Before long, you made it to the park where Oikawa was waiting.

Your stomach lurched at the sight of him, the memories of the party replaying in your mind.

Oikawa was MiyagiTea. He had lied to you.

“Y/N,” he breathed, “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

Oikawa looked as much of a wreck as you did, his usually bright eyes were red rimmed, dark bags under his eyes. Had he stayed up all night because of you? You almost let the worry wash over you, but you remembered why you were here. You wanted answers.

“Of course I did,” you muttered, “I want to know why.”

“Why?” He repeated, confused. Was he fucking serious right now? You clenched your fists, nearly wincing at the way your nails pierced your skin.

“Why the fuck you lied to me!” You snapped, the accumulated anger finally boiling over. “That stupid account has done nothing but hurt me! Why the fuck would you do this?”

Oikawa shakily sighed, collecting himself.

“At first, I started it as a joke, a stupid gossip account, but then it went too far-” He choked out, tears threatening his eyes, “I hated seeing you and Tsukishima together, so I used it to try and keep you two apart.”

“Apart? Why would you want us-”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He bitterly chuckled.

“Tooru, you’re not making any sense-”

“Because I’m in love with you!” Oikawa snapped.

Your voice faltered. What?

“Everyday I had to see you and Tsukishima together, wishing that were me, do you know how much that hurt, Y/N?”

Your voice felt like gravel in your throat, the words caught in your throat, unable to come out.

“I wanted to be the one you thought of, I wanted to be the one with you. I didn’t want to be second place.” He said, choking back a sob.

“Tooru-”

Your words burned leaving your throat. Your head was spinning. You felt like you were choking.

“Y/N, It’s always been you,” he croaked, “I’m so sorry I ever hurt you, I swear, from this day forward, I’ll never hurt you again, I’ll be better, I just want you to be mine, I love you-”

“Tooru, stop,” you choked out.

It was too much. You could barely hear Oikawa anymore against the pounding in your chest. All you could feel was the burn in your throat as you desperately needed to choke out something, anything. You needed to leave.

“Y/N, hear me out-”

“Oikawa, please!” You cried, the tears you shed earlier tonight returning.

The use of his last name instead of his first name made him flinch and your tears made him stepped back from you. You exhaled, relieving in the space he put.

“Just let me think, okay?” You whispered.

“Okay,” he muttered, unable to meet your eyes. “Just know, I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You turned away, walking away from the park, leaving Oikawa standing with his heart torn in two, and yours as well.

𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭: kiyoko and yachi woke up and found y/n gone.

𝐚/𝐧: um chile anyways so... 🤨 well, we have 2 chapters left and the epilogue! how we feelin?

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃!): @sinistersith @moronsuke @yougivemebutterfliess @saturnfarie @peachiikichu @what-happens-inside-the-box @nonoszrk @cece-lives-here @belli-jelly @cvlliesstuff @ack-aashi @mindofess @virgoamajiki @natsukitakama @shimy-deko @irenevyas @virgoamajiki @toaster-stick @little-dark-empress @h0ngh0ngh0ng @freyafolkvangr @winunk @estmagnifique @thechaosoflonging @ilovesupersoldiers @simpletype @burntcilantro @starrydaisy @animatedrapture @intothatbluebluesky @resetrestartandreplay @lostmarimoismyhubby @witcherydotcom @kukiisan @not-venice @grapesauze @amberisnotcrazy @tarasaoristark @ammemuts @cloudymotel @loving-unicorns106 @strawberryssel @kakaokenma @cadelinha-de-haikyuu @wowie-issa-me-amario @pruemania @vitalthot @kageyamasgirl @abswrites @kac-chowsballs

#[🍰] — play date #haikyuu smau #hq smau #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu!! smau #hq!! fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #hq!! smau #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima #tsukki #tsukishima kei smau #tsukishima smau #tsukki smau #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukki x reader #tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima x you #tsukki x you #tsukishima kei fluff #tsukishima fluff #tsukki fluff #haikyuu tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu tsukki #haikyuu tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuu tsukishima x reader

[volleyball-dontknowher]

Hate Fucking Tsukishima x reader

Warnings: NSFW 

Words: 1.5k 

A/N: I love you all and I hope you enjoy this! 

Tsukishima have a love hate relationship, as in you two absolutely despise each other but are addicted to the sex between you two 

It always starts with a blunt text from him, “my place, 7 pm” and you slam your phone down disgusted at the idea of fucking your rival, but in the end you find yourself showing up at his apartment dressed a little nicer than usual

He lets you in with a smug smirk quickly pulling you into this apartment hoping no one saw you looking like that, you were his and he wanted to keep you hidden from the world for nothing but selfish reasons

Once inside his lips are on yours as he pushes you up against the door, hands on both sides of your head trapping you between him in the wall as his tongue pushes past your teeth and explores the inside of your mouth 

You let out a little moan that causes Tsukishima to smirk as his lips quickly go to mark dark spots on your neck, claiming you as his while also causing you to let out little whimpers, he doesn't bother to hide them because he knows he will receive the same treatment back, he leaves several dark marks down one side of your neck

You let out a little whimper as he bites down in a particularly sensitive spot, your hands pulling out his hair that causes him to let out a hiss of his own

Tsukishima pulls your hands out of his hair and pins them above your head as he continues to suck the previous painful spot darker, once he was satisfied he picks you up and starts moving you towards his bedroom before you have the chance to react 

He tosses you on the bed before pulling off his shirt, you know by now that whatever you don’t take off will be ripped off of you 

You slide your pants and shirt off as Tsuksihima pulls his pants off

Once he is done he is back on top of you, hands roaming up and down your body as he admires you body, only allowing his gaze to linger for a moment before his hands pull your lace bra up to expose your perky breasts,  he licks his lips before going to suck on each of your breasts, palming and toying with your other nipple as he hums in delight 

“You know I love that color,” he murmurs as you smirk down at him, sitting up on your elbows

You knew for sure that he would enjoy the lacy set you put on for him tonight, it was his favorite color and exposed everything you knew he liked about you, he was obviously tense from it and wanted nothing more than to fuck you raw as fast as he could 

You push your chest up into his face causing him to let out a low growl, “ i could punish you so easily right now,” he mutters annoyed with your antics

You give him your best puppy-dog eyes as you wiggle your chest into his face even more

Tsukishima doesn’t like this and harshly bites down on the side of your breast leaving a clear and dark mark there 

“Asshole” you mutter out as he begins licking and sucking the sensitive area 

You whine as you grind your hips up into his, hoping he gets the message

Oh, he gets the message alright, “you’re such a needy whore, coming to my will whenever I call,” he muses, “and you pretend to hate me, but here you are, begging for this,” he teases as he grinds his hardened member against your core

You squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers suddenly rip open your panties and begin harsly rubbing your clit as he sticks his middle fingers inside your throbbing core

He sits back to watch as you take all of his fingers inside of you so perfectly, momentarily mesmerized at the sight of his fingers brutally destroying your otherwise innocent pussy

 You can’t help but impatiently whine for him to continue as his fingers hit the spots he knows so well inside of you 

Your moans become more frequent as he gets you closer to the edge, you feel your orgasm approaching and instead of riding you through your high Tsukki pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up his mouth, sucking each of them individually while never once breaking eye contact with you 

“This could be your cum,” he mocks, “but I don’t like you enough for that” 

You try to let out a frustrated whine but the moment you opened your mouth Tsukishima had already buried himself deep within you without any warning

You bit down on his shoulder harshly to keep yourself from screaming out his name, unable to speak as he begins a brutal pace that nearly splits you open 

You catch your breath for a second, “fuck fuck fuck Tsukki,” you moan out between despereate whimpers

Tsukishima sees how needy you are and lifts your leg to hit the spot that makes you scream every time “is this what you want?” his fingers press hard enough into your legs to leave marks

“Yes, yes yes yes” you practically scream as he hits the deepest spots inside of you 

Your brain is running wild with the pure pleasure of it all, on a particularly hard thrust you couldn’t help but bite down on Tsukishima’s shoulder as your hands rake down his back in an attempt to keep you grounded and feel closer to him 

“Don’t fucking cum unless I say so” hearing this you suddenly realized that you were clenching around him desperately as you felt your orgasm approaching once more

 You couldn’t stand the effect that he had on you, you felt yourself drooling when you got his text message and by the time you’d gotten to his apartment you had already dripped through your panties in anticipation for his massive length 

Tsuksihima does the unexpected, pulling you out of your thoughts, he lets out a long deep whimper as he squeezes his eyes shut and throws back his head

You can tell that he was desperately trying to hold back his orgasm as his cock twitched deep inside of you 

Tsukishima pulled his cock almost all the way out before suddenly slamming it back into you, causing you to let out a needy shriek as he let out a deep groan

The slow pace kept you both in anticipation as his length rubbed perfectly against your g-spot causing you to see stars with every thrust 

After a few minutes Tsuksihima wrapped his arms around your waist as he pulled you closer to him and lifted your hips as he began pounding into you with everything he had

He hated that you made him cum like a desperate teenager but he couldn’t help it, the way you took him in so perfectly and chanted his name as he fucked you was something that couldn't be found with anyone else, he’d tried and tried to find someone who could fuck him like you did and all he ever ended up doing was imagining that you were below him 

Tsukishima began rubbing your clit harshly causing your velvet walls to squeeze perfectly around him, you were coming undone faster than you could imagine and the only words you could think of was “please’ and you repeated it as a mantra hoping that he would let you cum around his throbbing cock

When he opened his mouth to allow you to cum no works came out, he wanted to tell you that he wanted you to cum around his cock and milk him of what he had left, instead all he did was nod and then moan at the sudden wetness gushing around his cock

HIs pace continued for only a few moments as your spasming walls pulled his orgasm out of him, he thrusted himself deep as he released deep within your core

Holding there for a moment you both caught your breath as you came down from your unbelievable highs, after pulling out and throwing on shorts Tsukishima grabbed you one of his T-shirts and a pair of old sweatpants he knew didn’t fit him anymore

You quietly admired his sculpted chest as he ran his fingers through his tousled blonde hair, his eyes looking up to the ceiling as if praising some other world god

Little did you know Tsukishima was hoping that you would stay the night with him, and little did you know you were plotting the same thing

When he went to go get you both a glass of tea you pretended to be asleep 

“Fucking idiot” he muttered, setting both mugs down on his nightstand letting out a huff of annoyance as his eyes continuously raked over your body

You were obviously faking it but Tsukishima couldn't find it within his heart to say a word to you about it, you were asleep and he was going to keep it that way

He pulled the covers back slowly, in an attempt to keep you in the same spot anas he schooched closer to you and closed his eyes to fall asleep 

At some point in the night you had crawled up to Tsuskishima’s chest and he had wrapped an arm sound your shoulders as you slept 

Waking up you peaked around to try and get a sense of the time as well as see if he was awake, you caught a slight glimpse of Tsukishima’s golden eyes looking down at you before he too closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep for the next twenty minutes

His acting was far better than yours and when you were both officially awake Tsukki offered to make you breakfast before you let yourself out of his apartment, leaving him cold and alone once more

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu Karasuno #karasuno #karasuno imagines #karasuno headcannons #karasuno tsukishima #tsukki #tsuki #tsukishima #kei #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #hq tsukishima #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei headcanon #tsukishima kei imagines #tsukishima kei x y/n #tsukishima kei is so cute #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei haikyuu #middle blocker #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #karasuno reader insert #volleyball #natalie writes

[janedoe-eyes]

Neighbors in a Mask

This is my Secret Santa gift for @theatreandcomicfreak - I hope you like it! I had the help of a wonderful Beta who made this infinitely better😂. Merry Christmas! @maribat-secret-santa-2020 -  I’m also posting it on ao3 😁

“Ok - ok, you can do this! This is just a friendly introduction, what could go wrong? New town, new place, new start.” A wet nose nudged her hand in agreement with her little self-pep talk, and she smiled at her furry companion. Marinette squared her shoulders and knocked on the apartment marked ‘655’, the mantra ‘new town, new place, new start’ ran on repeat in the back of her mind. She fidgeted listening for signs of life on the other end of the door.

She jumped when the door suddenly and silently opened to reveal a man her age - half-dressed, extremely attractive, and wearing the least welcoming glower she’d ever seen.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“I… uh… next door… chest moved in… shirtless - I mean!” She sputtered, face resembling a tomato and she barely managed to grab the plate of macaroons she’d lost her hold on while  she flailed. Holy hell, I haven’t sputtered  this much since…

That thought sobered her right up, and she shook her head to clear the nervous clutter. She took a big breath and started again.

“Sorry - I just moved in next door,” she jerked a thumb to her left, indicating the other condo in the pair. “I wanted to bring these over and introduce myself - I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my dog Squishy.” She gestured to the cream-colored Pit Bull, and he glanced down for a half a moment. “I just moved here from Paris! I’m a fashion designer and novice gardener-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do,” He cut her off with an exasperated sigh. “I am not interested in whatever you are selling - whether it is a product, business deal, or yourself.” Her jaw dropped. “I do not socialize beyond what is forced upon me by my family - so you have wasted your time. Good day.” He nodded stiffly at her and shut the door.

What the fu…

She stared at the same spot on the forest green door until Squishy whined and nudged her hand. She looked  to see the dog leaning on her leg and slowly wagging her tail.

“Squish… did you hear him say what I think he said?” She asked, looking at the door. She received  another nudge, this time from her purse on her other side.

She peered down to see Tikki’s blue orbs looking at her  with  concern. Marinette  smiled in reassurance.

“I’m fine Tik -  just rebooting.” A small giggle sounded from the bag, and Mari’s smile grew. She gave the door one last look and huffed.

“Oh well,” She shrugged. “Might as well head home.”

She stepped off his stoop and strolled over to her own, her deep red door already decorated with a spring wreath - little ladybugs hidden throughout. She shut the door behind her and caught  the plate  for a  second time when  a black blur zipped right in front of her face.

“Hey Bug, I overheard your  little exchange… want me to phase over and cataclysm his TV or something?”

“Plagg! What have I said about startling me? You’re gonna give me a heart attack!” He ignored her, floating in lazy circles near her ear. She continued to grumble about the cat as she continued to the kitchen - Tikki flying out of Mari’s purse to join her other half.

“No cataclysms!” The Luck God scolded him, crossing her paws. “We can’t risk anyone becoming  suspicious of where the guardian is - anyone who knows  the temple returned will be on the hunt!”

“Please,” Plagg scoffed. “I can pop  in and out without him noticing and not leave a trace - it’d probably at least annoy the hell out of Mr-stick-up-his-”

“As much as I’d like to get him back for his rude  comment - seriously, where does he get off?!” Marinette interrupted with a sigh and a small smile. “Tikki’s right, and it wouldn’t be very guardian or Ladybug-like of me besides.”

“Fine - but the offer still stands.” The little floating cat huffed, flying over to where Squishy cuddled  in her bed by the window, watching her owner for signs of needing her.

It was odd how well the dog and cat god got along - Plagg refused to acknowledge he was fond of the Pit Bull, but they were found more often than not sleeping curled  together on Mari’s bed at night, and Marinette suspected he snuck  her treats.

“As long as we don’t see each other much beyond going in or out of our places - it shouldn’t be a problem.” She shrugged, popping a cookie from the plate in her mouth and handing one to Tikki who happily accepted. “With how ‘busy’ he alluded to being - it shouldn’t be hard.”

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

Turns out -  easier said than done.

She saw him the next day in line at a coffee shop accompanied by  a man a few years older than him who looked as if  death had warmed over. Mr. Grouchy made eye contact with her and scowled before turning away with a tsk.

She rolled her eyes and focused back on the barista. “Hello,” she smiled as much as she could manage at the buttcrack of dawn. “It’s a longshot, but do you happen to have any ‘Black Insomnia’ or ‘High Voltage’?” The blonde behind the counter paled.

“Not another one.” She whispered, her eyes darting over to the man being tugged along by her neighbor.

Marinette tilted her head in question, and the barista seemed to shake it off.

“We are well stocked with Black Insomnia, what size will it  be and how would you like it made?” She asked, her customer service smile  strained.

“The largest you have - as black as you can make it.” She smiled back and took her receipt, walking over to a booth, overhearing her call out for a “Suicidal Wayne” just as another worker called out for the same drink.

The older boy, the one who looked in desperate need of a good night's sleep, leaned on Mr. Pissy as if he was the only thing keeping him upright - but at the mention of the order, his eyes snapped over to her. He gave her a small wave, and she returned it with a quirked brow. He looked close to  moving  over, but Sir Scowls-a-lot stopped him with a hand on his arm. He spoke in a low voice, and the tired man’s face melted into a mix of disappointment and exasperation. The man shot her an annoyed look and turned back to the front.

She wanted  to go over and demand to know what he could  possibly say   having met her once for five minutes, but the barista called out three names - hers, ‘Tim’,  and ‘Damian’. She walked  up before the two could move and grabbed her cup, thanking the woman, before brushing past ‘Tim and Damian’ on her way out. She was in a rush - there was a show coming up next week and she had fittings all day, she didn’t have time to deal with her asshat of a neighbor and his friend with good taste in coffee.

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

As the days passed, they continued bumping into each other. Their dynamic well-past talking, favoring annoyed glares and eye rolls. He wanted to scare her off (the Wayne lawyer way or Robin way - he hadn’t decided yet), but his father and brothers refused - insisting she hadn’t done anything deserving of any kind of action.

Yet. His mind supplied.

There was something off about her - the sixth sense he’d acquired through his life was never wrong, and she set it  off like fireworks whenever she was near. He couldn’t get a read on her intentions, but he wasn’t one to wait for the other shoe to drop - he planned to keep his eye on her.

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

He saw her again on patrol a week and a half after she first knocked on his door.

He was in costume uniform tailing a group of five men who  had recently left a warehouse that  belonged to  the Penguin. Red Hood stationed  across the street following parallel to him.

The men turned the corner on Hood’s side, and Robin signaled he would wait until they were out of earshot before grappling over. Hood nodded and continued trailing them.

Robin waited for a beat, then shot his hook out to grab the highest ledge available.

“Shit.” Hood’s voice through his comm made his hand jerk and his grappling hook missed the mark. He released his own curse and reshot as soon as the cable  fully retracted.

“Report, Hood.” He snapped, flipping at the arc of his swing and sailing over the first building.

“They’re targeting a girl - she looks  your age, tiny, at least partially Asian,” Hood grunted lowly.

Damian groaned.

“Acquaintance of yours, Demon Spawn?” Red Hood teased.

“No names in the field, Hood.” He hissed. “And it’s  my new neighbor - she keeps popping up like a bad penny.”

“The one you said tried  to butter you up with cookies, and drinks the same motor oil as Replacement?” Hood asked. Robin landed beside him, leaning over the ledge to watch the girl’s progress as she leisurely strolled down the street with several shopping bags.

“<Tt>, idiot,” Robin muttered under his breath. “That’s her.” He glanced at Hood who nodded.

“You know - I still say you might have misjudged the situation - Timmy said she didn’t seem the cozy-ing up type and seemed  kinda openly pissed at you.” Red Hood mused.

“No. Names. In. The. Field. Hood.” Robin grit out, tired of this conversation - he’d had  versions of it with his family ever since the coffee shop incident.

Everyone insisted the  Dupain-Cheng girl was trying to be nice - but he looked through her records, and found  an unprecedented amount of bullying accusations against her in high school, and she’d quit her job at ‘Agreste’ with no warning - but that was oddly heavily-guarded information. He had been locked out of many of even the simplest social media accounts and public records - especially anything to do with the Agreste brand founder. A  familiar itch on the back of his neck told  him he was onto something big - and his suspiciously friendly neighbor was connected.

Hood took a breath as if to continue the conversation when Robin put a hand up and signaled downward.

They both looked to see the tiny girl turn sharply across the road and into a dead-end alleyway. She’s even stupider than I assumed , Robin mentally groaned as he and Red Hood scrambled to follow.

They dropped to street-level and ran over to the alley, prepared to find the young woman in need of saving, only to see three men passed out near the entrance.  A dented trash lid resting nearby.  The small girl, who looked like Red Hood could lift her with one hand, flipped  a fourth over her shoulder with ease.

“Holy Mother-” Hood gaped at the scene and  sidestepped  the flying body - it landed behind him on top of the others.

Robin didn’t flinch as the man sailed past and ruffled his cape. His eyes were fixed on the girl as she high-kicked the last man under the jaw - knocking him out immediately. He couldn’t stop the words ‘almalak almuharib[1]’ from slipping past his lips in an awed gasp. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

He shook himself, scowling at the foolish thoughts that rose unbidden. Perhaps she is a shaman or spell caster. That is it - this must be a  spell. He reasoned to himself.

He watched, still unable to move, as the girl dusted off her clothes and reached into her bag.

“Are you two gonna help, or do you plan to stand there with your mouths open like a couple of fish.” She asked as she turned around with a handful of zip ties, eyebrow quirked.

“You have  one hell of a kick, kid.” Red Hood broke the silence, moving forward to grab a few of the proffered zip ties (even though he had plenty of his own).

“It was nothing.” She brushed off the complement with a wave of her hand and a light rose dusting on her cheeks.

Red Hood scoffed, “Whatever kid, that was the most badass take-down I’ve seen in a while - and I know Wonder Woman.” He extended his fist for a bump.

Her smile fell  from her face as if she’d been slapped - her eyes fixated on the proffered fist and starting to water.

“Uh…” Red Hood lowered  his arm, “I ain’t trying to hit you kid… you guys have fist bumps in Europe, right?” He laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“I… It’s nothing - you just... reminded me of a friend.” She whispered, taking in a shuddering breath and turning  sharply to secure the last guy she knocked unconscious.

Robin shared a look with his brother (an odd thing to do through a helmet, but they knew each other well enough for  it to work) and shrugged, before taking out his own zip ties and turning to the pile of three large men.

As they finished  with the other four, Marinette walked past them with her bags and a quick “I’ll leave them to you, then” - and left the alleyway, disappearing from sight.

“That… was weird, right?” Hood said, staring after her. “Shouldn’t we make her stick around to give a statement?”

Robin shook his head slowly. “I think… it would be best to let her go... this time. We have both seen that look before.” In the mirror every time we lost a teammate in battle, he glared   where he’d last seen her retreating figure, and puzzled  over the new information.

“Wait, wait, wait, I agree she can fight  and all, but are you really saying that the little pipsqueak...” He choked out in surprise, Damian could tell his eyes were bugging under his mask.

“I’m not sure, but she’s certainly no average civilian.” He cut his brother off with a shake of his head. “I suggest we keep an eye on her.”

“Hey, if you two have finished your little intrusion into the poor girl’s life and traumas, the police are  a minute out.” Barbra, or rather, Oracle’s voice sounded from their earpieces.

Damian took one last look at where she’d disappeared to before turning away with narrowed eyes and a “<Tt>”.

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

Marinette withdrew following  the encounter in the alley - barely acknowledging her surly neighbor, Squishy refused to leave her side, and Plagg and Tikki often needed to call her name several times before she’d respond… The  Kwamii were worried.

“Tik… we only just pulled  her out of the slump she was in back in Paris after…” Plagg’s normally light and expressive face fell, his tail, ears, and whiskers drooping.

“I know… It’s never easy to lose one.” She whispered with a pained wince, past memories flashing in front of her eyes. She floated over to her other half and pulled him into her, petting the back of his head as stuttering purrs overtook  his shaking.

“If she continues to relive it, we’ll lose her too - remember  Keket.” Tikki shuddered at the reminder of the young girl.

“No… we can’t let that happen again,” Plagg growled, the memories of the long lost kitten painful even all these years later. They couldn’t let that happen to Marinette. Tikki nodded firmly into his shoulder.

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

Marinette stretched out under a large oak tree in the city gardens, her sketchbook open on her lap and Squishy laid  over her legs - keeping guard. She stared at the blank page with unfocused eyes, memories swimming  in her head out of order and distorted.

“*Sniff* Mommy... Daddy…” A small voice sobbed, pulling her from her musings. She closed her book and set it aside. Squishy took that as a signal to get up and look around, her ears swiveling alertly.

“Where is it coming from, Squish?” She reached  to rest her hand on the dog’s back, Marinette stood  and looked  around intently.

Her dog gave a soft *wuff* and tugged on the leash. Marinette turned and allowed the Pit Bull to direct her. As they neared the bushes the sound came  from, Marinette stopped  short at the sight of a familiar well-kept head of dark hair and moved her and Squishy to peek around them to the bench beyond.

From her position, she saw  her prickly neighbor crouching next to a boy of about five or six whose cries turned into soft giggles as a Great Dane licked at his face, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright Titus, let the boy breathe.” The man grunted, tugging lightly on the large dog’s collar. “Now, have you calmed enough to tell me your name?” He asked in a surprisingly gentle voice, turning his attention to the boy. The kid nodded, sniffing and reaching out to pat the dog - who happily leaned in.

“E-Ethan… My name’s Ethan Sorensen, Mr. Wayne.” He said shyly.

“Ah, you recognize me?” The younger boy nodded, still stroking the dog.

The Wayne Heir returned the nodd. “Good - at least you didn’t talk  to  a complete stranger. You should be more careful though, the world - and this city especially - are dangerous places for someone  young and inexperienced.” He scolded with a frown.

The boy shrunk in, and Titus nudged further into the boy, whining slightly. The temperamental man sighed and hesitantly put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I do not mean to be harsh - I am merely  glad I found you first.” He gave the boy a strained smile and it received a laugh from the kid. His eye twitched in annoyance.

“<Tt>,” He groused, pulling back and taking out his phone. He tapped a few times before placing the phone against his ear. “Gordon, I have a boy named Ethan Sorensen alone in the Southeast end of Robinson Park, have there been any missing child reports?” He nodded at whatever response he received. “Good, let your father know we will wait  for them on a bench... Yes, of course I plan to remain with him! He is no older than six!... Yes, yes, I will stay behind to issue a statement to the officer… Goodbye Gordon.” He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket before turning back to the boy.

“Your parents are on their way, would you like to play fetch with Titus until they arrive?” He received a shy nodd in return and handed over a yellow batman-themed ball which was enthusiastically chased  once thrown.

Marinette watched a few more throws before retreating to the tree where she had left her bag and packed up.

“So he can be sweet,” she mused to Tikki under her breath.

The Kwamii poked her head out of Mari’s pocket and giggled. “Though he didn’t seem super comfortable with the situation, he went out of his way to be kind to the boy. He stepped  up when needed.”

“Yeah, I guess our grumpy-goose next door can act like a human - now and then.” Marinette laughed, turning toward the park’s exit, a light flutter in her chest  after watching her awkward frenemy do something kind.

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

That night, Marinette seriously considered  donning her mask for the first time in over a year.

She couldn’t explain why, but watching Damian’s secretly sweet nature peek through had  lifted her spirits. She felt more like her old self than she had in a long time.

The dark and handsome man was obviously out of his comfort zone in interacting with the boy, but his desire to help another person outweighed his own discomfort. Mari’s guardian senses could see the effort it took to overcome the deep-seated parasitic darkness that latched onto his being. .

Her bones buzzed with an energy that had been absent for  a year. She didn't call for a transformation though - her Guardian duties came first, and she needed to understand the city as a healer before she could take on an active protector role.

Using the recovered energy, she took back up a project she'd been working on - knitting hats, gloves, and scarves with needles Wayzz helped her infuse with a warming charm. She planned to give them away at the shelter she volunteered at on weekends when the weather turned in a few months.

She had four sets of mittens done and adjusted the needles to start on a fifth when a loud crash sounded from the other end of the wall. She jumped up and grabbed the retractable baton she stored in her crafting room, sliding into a crouching position. Tikki and Plagg flew over from the cushion they were lounging on to hover next to her.

They waited in suspense  - listening for clues as to what was going on beyond the wall.

After a few moments, a pained groan sounded along with another, smaller crash.

Was it… her surly Wayne neighbor?

She shared a glance with Tikki and Plagg, and the three nodded. Plagg phased through the wall, and Tikki flew to Mari’s shoulder. An anxious minute later, Plagg returned, stifling laughter with his paws.

“Oh yeah - he’s gonna need some help,” He snorted. “And what is it with you attracting all the weirdos?” He cackled, flying over to the mini-fridge she kept stocked with Kwamii food and phasing through.

“You’ll want to bring the first aid kit,” he continued, exiting the fridge with a small wheel of cheese and taking a large bite before continuing. “Probably keep the baton with you in case there’s trouble - the kid may not be much help  watching your back.”

That snapped her to attention, and she rushed off to her bathroom to grab the enormous first aid kit she collected over  years of hero work. She pulled on a coat - Tikki slipping into a pocket - and shoved her feet into her deep red combat boots, quickly tying them before rushing out her front door and over to the stoop she’d glared  at in passing for weeks.

Marinette  took a deep breath to calm herself before testing the door - which was of course locked. She huffed and pulled out the lock-pick set she stored in the inner lining of her boots. She unlocked  the door after two frustrating minutes - it seemed her neighbor wasn’t satisfied with the standard locks that came with the condos and installed his own.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and re-locked it  - noticing a blinking red light on a small black box along the side of the door.

Probably a silent alarm, she mused, No matter - I’m here to help and have no intention of harming… Oh geez, I don’t even know his name - what will the police think when they arrive  here?! What names did the barista say  at the coffee house? - Tim and… Damian? Gah! It doesn’t matter - he still needs help! She shook herself and continued along the hallway with the first aid kit in her left hand and the baton in her right - raised and ready for trouble.

“Um… Hello?” She called out, deciding it was better to alert any robbers than to scare her injured neighbor. “It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng - your neighbor next door? I heard a crash and someone in pain, so I let myself in…” Having cleared the first floor, she turned to the stairs at the back of the house past the kitchen. “Mr. Wayne?”

A pained grunt sounded from the top of the stairs and she tensed further, not foolish enough to rush  ahead after the warning Plagg gave  - even if it wasn’t bad enough to insist on coming himself.

“Is that you, Mr. Wayne?” She called, narrowing her eyes as she reached the top of the stairs.

“I...in here...” A deep male voice coughed from the last room to her right, and she heard a low growling as she entered the room.

“I’m going to turn on the light.” She called a moment before she did.

Muttered cursing sounded at the light and drew her eyes to the floor under the window where the young Wayne lay on his side, clutching a gash over his chest, and surrounded by glass. The  man was dressed in a ripped Robin uniform she’d become familiar with due to all the merch that littered the city.

“Oh…” Marinette  whispered, Plagg’s comment on attracting weirdos now making sense. She heaved a deep sigh.

“His name is Titus, right?” The dog twitched at his name, and his master nodded stiffly. “Will he  let me take a look at your injuries?” She retracted the baton and set it on the ground slowly with the kit, keeping her movements slow, and returning to a standing position with her palms empty and up.

“Titus, hda[2].” The dog slowly relaxed his tense position and looked back at the boy on the ground behind him. “Rahab[3].” The man said,  nodding toward her, wincing as it pulled at one of his many injuries.

Though she didn’t understand the language of the commands, their meanings were obvious - she sank to the floor again and turned to her side, slowly offering her hand for the great black beast to sniff. He cautiously approached her and watched her body language intently as he snuffled at her hand - leaving a cool trail behind, which would have made her giggle in  another situation.

Finally deciding to trust her , he licked her cheek and released a whine - tugging her jacket sleeve over to his injured master. She reached back to grab her kit and allowed the dog to pull her forward.

“Where are you hurt most severely?” She asked, kneeling beside him, ignoring the few pricks of glass in her legs as she did so.

“The gash on my chest is the only one that needs looked at immediately... the others are superficial.” He wheezed lightly, his voice strained.

“Was your head or spine injured to your knowledge?” At the slight shake of his head, she carefully slid her arms under him and gently lifted him into a princess carry. He let out an indignant and surprised manly squeak and she tried to hide her smile.

“Your partners, do you want me to contact them?” She asked, entering the connected bathroom and flipping the switch with her shoulder.

“My communicator and tracker are busted - though if you came through the front door, they were alerted and will send someone to check when  I do not respond.”

She nodded and set him into the tub as gently as she could, shooing Titus away from sticking his head in as close as he could get it to the man. She set her kit on the floor and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snorted at the sight.

“Those will not even make a scratch in -” She grinned at his stunned silence as she nearly glided through the material, snagging  a few times on previously patched parts.

“...” He stared at the scissors as she shifted to cut the sleeves. “This is the highest grade kevlar… how in the…” He turned to meet her laughing eyes and quirked an eyebrow.

“I have my secrets,” She gestured to the suit she was tearing into. “And you have your’s.” He pinned her with a look, but she raised her own brow as if to ask ‘you don’t actually expect me to tell you, do you?’

He scoffed and turned to the wall.

She laughed and moved the last of the material out of the way - turning back to her kit to gather her supplies.

“I don’t suppose you’d let me give you any Lidocaine?” He gave her a ‘what do you think?’ look. “That’s what I thought - want something to bite on?”

“I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, turning away again.

“Alright tough guy, I’m gonna just dive in - if you need a break or want to change your mind, let me know.” He nodded, and she threaded the hooked needle, glancing at him once more before starting in.

She was amazed at how little he reacted - a few face twitches at most - and she made sure to get through it as quickly as possible. After tying it off, she cleaned around the wound and taped gauze over it, and nodded to herself in satisfaction.

She turned  to grab more alcohol swabs, only to find the injured hero unsteadily climbing  to his feet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She asked, exasperated.

“The rest is livable - I will be fine. Thank you for-”

“Thank me when I’m done patching you up, you stubborn fool.” She rolled her eyes, pushing him back down.

“How are you so strong?!” He huffed. “I don’t know of many civilians who could lift a grown man without an issue…” He left the statement trailing like a question, and she laughed.

“I grew up in a bakery - I’ve been lifting bags of flour my whole life.” She shrugged, taping up his finished arm and moving onto another gash.

“Sure…” He scoffed, not believing for a second that was all there was to it. She shrugged in response.

They sat in silence until she finished , tapping on the last square of gauze.

“Alright,” She helped him to his feet  and over to his bed. “Is there anything else you need?”

He shook his head, giving a soft ‘Thank you’ - reaching out to catch her hand as she began walking over to retrieve  the baton she’d left by his door.

“Truly - I… I would have been in trouble if you had not found me when you did. The others are in the middle of a fight and my beacon was broken before I could activate it… there might  still be  time before they worry.”

“Happy to help.” She smiled, patting his arm. He nodded, breaking eye contact again and patting Titus who jumped on the bed  to snuggle  the man.

“By the way…” She started. “What is your name? I know your last name is Wayne - that’s what the boy at the park said anyway, and I think it’s either ‘Damian’ or ‘Tim’ - because those were the names the barista gave at the coffee shop…”

“Wait,” He stopped her. “You… don’t know who I am?”

“Um… should I? The way the boy said it made it sound  as if you’re well known here - but I’m only familiar with Parisian celebrities.”

“Oh, then… I believe I may owe you an apology.” He scratched the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Yes, yes you do - but what are you referring to?” She started with a irked look, and he had the decency to look abashed.

“When you first came to my door… I thought it another instance of someone trying to get in my good graces because I’m a Wayne. My father and brothers have warned me against social climbers, and I find it best to avoid encouraging them by making my disinterest known right away.” He still refused to meet her eyes and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

She waited until he met her eyes before speaking. “I appreciate and accept your apology, and  I understand. ” He raised a disbelieving brow.

“No,” she chuckled, “Really. Back in Paris, I had a few friends who suffered from  the same problem - an Olympic fencer, a model, a rock singer…” She shrugged. “I get it… but I’d also like to start again if you’re up for it?”

He stared at her for a moment, taking in her sincerity, before he slowly nodded and extended his hand.

“Hello… I am Damian Wayne.” She grinned and grasped his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

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

Dick burst into the apartment moments after Marinette returned to her own home - leaving her phone number behind with strict instructions to call if he needed anything. He explained what  happened - causing Dick check for a concussion when he openly admitted to misjudging her - and was taken to the cave.

Alfred was impressed with Marinette’s stitch job, and only needed to re-bandage the wounds he’d checked. His father had interrogated him for several hours when he found out a near-stranger  knew at least Robin’s identity. He was talked down from all-out kidnapping the girl for answers only because Damian insisted on it - and he rarely stood up for his family, let alone strangers. So, they decided to keep a close eye on her when she went out (Damian living directly next door kept them from over-bugging the outside of her home).

They discovered she worked  in a small boutique in the Fashion District, and volunteered  at a shelter. When she wasn’t at either of those places or running errands, she wandered the city for places to sit and sketch. They had the sneaking suspicion she knew of their presence , but hadn’t caught her looking directly at them yet.

They were all  wary of her but eventually  eased up on their suspicions the more they were around the little - but strangely strong - ball of sunshine.

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

A few nights later, Damian awoke to the sounds of muffled cries. He instinctively jolted out of bed and reached for the sword next to his nightstand. Listening, he found the sounds came from Marinette’s apartment. He popped open the door to his balcony located  on the same wall as hers.

Leaping over - narrowly avoiding knocking over one of the many pots strewn on  every surface - he slunk over to her door and peeked inside, expecting  a struggle and looking for the best opening to intervene.

What he saw was his small neighbor (friend?) curled  on her bed, tangled in her blankets, with tears streaming down her face. She thrashed, a whimper loud enough for him to hear through the glass slipping through her lips.

He sighed and set his shoulders - he’d seen enough night terrors from his brothers, the Titans, and even members of his grandfather’s League to know he wouldn’t leave her to suffer, but not looking forward to explaining how he entered .

Working on  the simple lock, he slid the door open silently, and closed it behind him, leaning his sword against it where she wouldn’t notice it unless she paid attention. .

A whine halted his approach, and he paused, noticing the butter-colored Pit Bull at the foot of the bed - having obviously knocked off in her mistress’ movement - and reached a hand out. The dog sniffed hesitantly, her tail stuck firmly between her legs, and her ears flat against her head in worry.

“It’s alright, girl, I am here to help.” He soothed, rubbing at her ears until her tail uncurled and began to half-heartedly wag.

“NON!... CHAT!” The girl on the bed sobbed, her arms flailing as if reaching for something.

He was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms and readying himself in case she fought him.

“Mari!” He called, shaking her none too gently, “Mari! It is a dream! You need to wake up!”

It took several tries, but soon her eyes shot open.

She sat up, latching onto the first thing she found, and as he still held  her wrists, (and her dog was on the floor) he found his arms full of a sobbing Marinette. She gasped, muttering in French  how sorry she was, how she should have been stronger, how it was her fault…

He held her, as his brothers did for him for months after he came back from the pits and awoke from his own nightmares. He started to rock back and forth - smoothing her hair, and she cuddled in closer, her cries pittering out.

The city’s ambience filled the room - interspersed with the slight creaking of the bed at Damian’s continued rocking motion.

“Do you wish to talk about it?” He asked after what felt like both a moment and an eternity.

She hesitated, before starting in a small, frail voice.

He learned  what  transpired in France with the villain the League had been forbidden from interfering with. She told him of  the emotional trauma - having to police your own emotions, watching loved ones be used, watching them die horribly, only to have them come back with no memory of the fact.

And then - she told him about Ladybug.

She didn’t swear him to secrecy or threaten him if he told anyone - it spilled out with everything else.

She had been alone.

As a civilian, she was isolated, and as a hero - she had no one to lean on, especially once  entrusted with the Guardian title. She had only her Kwamii (whatever that was - she made it seem like some  all-powerful sprite) who knew her identity, and she couldn’t properly vent for fear of becoming ‘akumatized’.

She told him about the final battle. How it turned out to be the father of a friend who terrorized  everyone, how her partner had nearly fallen apart in grief - as it was his father - and how her partner, her friend, had died saving her from his father’s blade. The blow caused his own power, a "cataclysm" to defensively implode, destroying everything in the vicinity - even the bearer of the ring. Marinette's saving grace was her own power, the ultimate balance to destruction, which shielded her from the blast.

She sobbed into his shoulder after the tale was done until she eventually fell into a deep sleep.

He set her back into the bed gently and covered her with the blankets. Moving to the chair in the corner he  slumped down,  head in his hands,  absorbing  the emotion and information her story had left him with.

A wet nose nudged his arm, and he looked down to see her dog slowly wagging her tail and giving him sad puppy-eyes. He gave her a small smile.

“It’ll be alright…” He shifted to search for a tag to find  her name - not remembering it from Marinette’s initial introduction.

“It’s Squishy.” A small, high voice called. He jerked his head up to watch a red fairy-bug…thing float down to rest on the dog’s head. “Mari found her rooting through some trash in an alley a week after the final battle - they’ve been inseparable  ever since.”

They eyed each other for a moment before he broke the silence.

“...Tikki… right?” That was the name from Marinette’s story. She nodded, her big sky-blue eyes analyzing  his soul.

“I am Tikki, Kwamii  of Creation and good luck. Thank you for helping my chosen tonight - Plagg and I couldn’t wake her.” She drooped. “This one was particularly bad.” He nodded, and another sprite floated over, this one pitch black with a tail, small pointed ears, and ancient, acid green eyes.

“I’m Plagg - Kwamii of Destruction and bad luck - and I won’t hesitate to cataclysm you into oblivion if you hurt my Bug with the info she trusted you with tonight - or at all, for that matter.” It should have been impossible, with all of his experience, to be frightened of such a tiny being, but Damian found himself shuddering at the fierce protectiveness all the same.

“Understood.” Damian nodded.

“Good.” And just like that, the eyes were half-lidded and looked bored. “Do you have any fancy cheese at your place? The Bug cut me off from the good stuff after I tangled  her  expensive yarn or whatever.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his ‘arms’.

“Plagg! Can you not think of your stomach for once?!” The red sprite cried, exasperated.

“I spent the whole night watching Spots and trying to wake her when the dream started, then I threatened the birdboy - that’s a long time!” He pouted, and Damian huffed in amusement at how much the tiny cat reminded him of Todd’s bottomless pit of a stomach.

“There’s blue cheese and brie in the fridge.” He pointed down and to the side where his kitchen lay, and was shocked as the cat passed directly through the wall without a word.

“Sorry about him ,” Tikki said with a fond sigh. “He’s worried about Mari, and pretending he doesn't care is how he copes.” She took on a serious look and pinned him with it.

“I know you’re  a hero and used to keeping secrets, but the miraculous are the most powerful artifacts in the world. We existed  before the dawn of man, and we will far out-live your kind.” He stared at her, the ancient power from the cat now pulsed  from her, telling him she wasn’t to be trifled with.

“Mari is all alone in this, and we planned  to convince her to seek help from your “league of heroes” soon, so this is not entirely  inconvenient - but she trusted you. She is  gifted with excellent instincts - both as a Ladybug and a Guardian - I don’t oppose her choice, but I warn you - should you cause any harm to befall her, you will answer to me.” Damian shuddered for the second time that night - the second time in years - and nodded solemnly.

“I understand.” She searched his eyes for another minute before her own softened.

“I see  you do. You’ve  endured your own trials.” He looked at the lump on the bed to avoid her stare. “I think you will be good for each other.” She mused, rising from Squishy’s head and floating over to the wall connecting his home to Marinettes’.

“I’m going to make sure Plagg hasn’t eaten everything you own.” She giggled, and phased through the wall.

He released a shuddering breath and slumped down from his stiff position - reaching over to pet Squishy’s head as she leaned in and began to thump her tail against the floor. He smiled softly at the sight and sunk further back into the chair with a deep sigh.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through how to help the neighbor he’d assumed was after his money and name. He winced at his previous misconceptions. He  needed more practice at  learning to accurately read people - perhaps he could convince Cass to coach him in nonverbal cues.

He shook his head, helping Marinette build  a support system was top priority. He’d always bemoaned his family getting in his way - but at least he’d never been left alone. From her story, it seemed like she’d run  the entire Paris operation on her own the four years Hawkmoth had been at large.

The first step was to involve  his Father and siblings  - they’d know how to execute a plan  - but he felt it had to come  at her own pace. From what she said, she’d had no choice but to play catch-up during her entire battle - since she was twelve.

He continued to chase his thoughts  in a dizzying dance until he eventually succumbed to sleep, not noticing when the kwamii crept back and snuggled in alongside Marinette.

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

Three months later - a tiny girl in a dark red and black ensemble was spotted running on rooftops alongside Robin, Red Hood, and Nightwing, her light, bell-like laughter ringing out into the Gotham night.

The local media pages blew up - the people of Gotham fell  in love with their ‘Ladybird’ and her sweet nature which  opposed the stoic and gruff bats. It was interesting for them to see her banter and fight alongside the other members of the team -  especially Robin, who became  her shadow, rarely leaving her side.

She had several blogs dedicated to her feats and theories about the miraculously healed injuries and repaired battle sites. It didn’t take long for people  from France to find the numerous articles, and start the rumor she was once their ‘Ladybug’, but there was no solid evidence. The two looked and acted completely differently.

Ladybird was free-spirited and light of heart, whereas Ladybug was serious and professional. Many speculated the  Ladybug miraculous  traded hands, but, as there was no supernatural Cat seen, it  remained an unlikely theory.

Unfortunately for the bloggers, it was hard to snag  a good look at the bats, as they thrived in the darkness. Others  commented on Robin’s costume change, but Ladybird’s appearance  took the spotlight.

If they had caught a closer look, they would have found Robin’s red and yellow colors gone , and the forest green was replaced with a more muted-toxic tone. Thankfully, his hood hid the most significant changes as he now sported two small velvet ears that reacted to sound and emotion, and his usual katakana now had a pitch-black blade with green detailing on the hilt.

In completely unrelated news,  the youngest son of Gotham’s resident billionaire was  in the news frequently as he’d taken to hanging around a petite Asian-French girl who was rumored to be a famous designer from France. She was photographed numerous times on outings with Damian and both their dogs - who got  along even better than  their owners.

Due to her kind nature and enchanting  smile, she quickly gained the  nickname  ‘Sunshine of Gotham’ and the tag trended frequently  on Twitter.

During an interview with a fashion magazine, she was asked if she’d ever leave the city of crime, and the answer she’d given was proudly displayed in the Gotham Gazette the next day.

“The people of Gotham have heart and spunk which  can’t be matched - I was welcomed here after a difficult time in France, and I don’t see myself growing tired of being challenged and cared for in the way only Gotham can.”

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

[1] Almalak almuharib - ‘Warrior Angel’ in Arabic [2] Hda - ‘calm’ in arabic [3] Rahab - ‘greet’ in arabic

#maribat-secret-santa-2020

[catsandstrawberries]

Hi do you take request ?If yes, can you do a platonic BTS x reader where reader is coming out to them ?

(I’m personally Bi , aro ,ace and non binary,but if you’d rather do something else it’s fine too!)

Sexual Identity Crisis 

Pairing: 8th member x bts (platonic)

Word Count: 1.6k 

A/N: I hope you don't mind but I made the reader bisexual and use she/them pronouns, I also made it platonic as in 8th member. Hope you like it! (this is unedited so sorry for grammer)

It was the little things that you first started to notice.

The way you would blush on stage during a performance when an army would call your name. The squeals for your attention no longer embarrassing or cute but stirring something deep within you. You never liked the idea of dating as an artist, too much drama, too many things, too many feelings.

But it wasn't until you were preparing for one of your solo songs, one of the noona artists your age fixing up your makeup, you started to notice. You started paying attention to the way some of the noona's would wear leggings that fit tight to their bodies, or how gentle their hands felt on you.

It only confused you more when you felt the same for guys. The harsh jawline, the big hands, thinking about it made you flush.

During interviews, as you sat next to your brothers, and tried not to seem as disinterested as you felt, they would ask you the question.

"Who is your ideal type?"

Images. Images of curvy bodies and plush skin, hard stomachs, gentle hands to caress your face, and thick fingers to ground you.

"I don't think I have a type." You respond with a smile. Deflect a few more questions, just as you deflected the feelings within.

Whenever you felt panicked you liked to make lists. You were good at that. A few things to take note of,

One: You might not be straight.

Then you met Shawn Mendes and Camilla Cabello and fuck you've never wanted to have a threesome so bad.

One: You're bisexual.

Then you had another jaw-dropping, mind-altering revelation.

It was caused by TikTok. BigHit thought it would be a great idea for BTS as a band to post a series of TikToks to help gain attraction and give content to the fans.

It was really fun.

Pulling pranks on the boys like cutting the power in Jungkooks room when he was playing video games or handing Jin salt instead of sugar for his coffee gained a huge following.

But on rainy days when you had no work to do (which rarely happened), instead of making videos, you would scroll through the app. It caused your heart to stutter, the users on the app who smirked and winked at the camera made you feel so nervous. As if someone would spot you and your secret would be revealed to the world.

But then your eyes would linger on a few guys. As the only girl in BTS oftentimes you were trademarked to be the girly girl, or on the extremist side of the gender spectrum. But you had always secretly wished to hold the same power your brothers did. Some days you hated the weight on your chest and wished your boobs could pop right off. You wanted to be like Jimin who was so fluid in his gender identity and wear tux's and give

smolders to the fans.

Two: Your pronouns were she/they.

Three: You need to tell your brothers.

Well, you didn't need to tell them. But you wanted to. As the youngest and declared golden maknae duo with Jungkook, they had practically raised you.

You love them.

You started small.

"Hey, Hoseok, have you seen (G)I-DLE's new music video, oh my god'?"

You were in the dance studio refining the black swan dance for an upcoming performance when you asked him. Taking a chug of water as you watched his reaction.

"Of course I did! They're trending right now, after I watched the teaser video I was hooked."

"Soojin looked hot." Fuck, you meant to bring it up more calmly but it comes out rushed in one breath.

You feel yourself flush but get back onto the dance floor, hoping that it will pass off as exhaustion.

"If you want to hang out with her, I'm sure PR won't have an issue with it," Jin comments from the side, and you just nod hoping to change the conversation.

The next time it happened, you and the boys were traveling in America to go on James Cordon's show. It was supposed to be a casual interview but nothing ever casual in America.

"So Jungkook, (y/n), you were at the Grammys a couple of weeks ago, right?"

You and jungkook both nod, and you get a strange pit in your stomach for being called out like that.

"Well, you both had such strong reactions to meeting them!" Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

"(y/n) Shawn Mendes is quite beautiful, isn't he?"

"I think a lot of people are beautiful, but he is very good looking." You wince as you feel Namjoons gaze burn into the back of your head.

"Interesting."

James continues asking questions to your brothers and delves into several female celebrities, and after what feels like forever, it's over.

Then you're in the car with Taehyung, Jin, and Jungkook and the maknae starts to mimic you.

"I think a lot of people are beautiful but Shawn Mendes is so cute oh I could look into his eyes forever-

"Shut up Kook!" and then you take a breath and mumble under your breath,

"Camilla is pretty too." Little did you know that Jungkook was too busy making kissy faces to hear you, but Jin and Taehyung definitely share a look.

The third time is when the band is having a dress rehearsal and the style is very edgy and the boys are dressed in jewelry and punk rock and eyeliner, but they want to put you in this white frilly dress even though you have to dance, and...and you just don't want it.

So when one of the Noonas isn't looking you grab one of Yoongis discarded outfits and put it on, a pair of black skinny jeans, a metal chain, and a white tea with a black suit blazer.

When you go to show the boys they don't make a fuss, and you hope no one notices it's not your original outfit. But then one of the noonas is bringing you the dress and you're casually walking away from her but she starts to shout,

"(y/n), isn't this your original outfit? Where did you find that?"

But then Jimin is throwing an arm around you and glancing you up and down, "Ugh, our little maknae is growing up, can she wear this instead noona?"

And the girl just huffs out a fine while Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, "I got your back."

But you never could have imagined telling them like this. You wanted to sit all of them down and pass around hot chocolate and have a revelation about your sexuality and gender status.

But no, nothing can ever go your way.

Hobi was introducing Becky G to the 7 of you in person. It was a few months after chicken noodle soup had come out and she had decided to stop in Korea for a break on her solo tour. Hobi thought it was only right for the rest of BTS to meet her since they had worked so well together.

It was the way she walked into the room with so much confidence, wearing whatever the hell she wanted, and glancing at you with a wink as she bowed and repeated the mantra she had been learning for weeks.

"Annyeonghaseyo, (y/n)!" Respond back to her, it's not that hard. Just say hello.

"I'm so fucking gay."

You could literally feel the temperature in the room change and even some of your security guards passed you a look.

Shit.

"Well not like, fully gay, I'm bisexual."

Why are you still talking!?

An awkward chuckle left your mouth as sets of eyes stared at you, and as if you couldn't make things any more uncomfortable, you added,

"I want to use she/they pronouns."

"(y/n), love, we aren't mad." You had just arrived back at the dorms and immediately sprinted for your room but Namjoon was hot on your heels.

"Got her." You squealed as Jungkook wrapped his arm around you and practically dragged you to the common area.

"So you swing both ways?" Jimin added nonchalantly both of his legs tossed over your lap, "that is the best way to live life, dear."

"Jimin! Not helping" Jin berated before taking a seat next to you on the couch,

"How long have you known?"

"I feel like, subconsciously I've known for a while, but I didn't really accept it until six months ago."

Jin winces at your words,

"did you think we would be mad? Six months is a long time."

"It must have been hard to keep that to yourself," Yoongi adds, rubbing a soft circle into your palm.

Namjoon sighs from the loveseat next to Tae, "Look, (y/n), you're our little sister, and we will never be mad at you for doing what you need to do to be comfortable in your own skin."

"We'll always support you, in fact, if you need any lady advice-" Tae's suggestive smirk is cut off by Hobi who smacks him on the back of the head.

"Now is not the time!?"

"Whether or not you want to go public with this information is up to you, but we'll need to talk to Bang PD if so." You nod at Namjoons words but thinking about going public makes your head spin.

"But Namjoon, if they don't want to, we can keep it our little secret, right?" Jimin's use of the pronoun causes you to shift your eyes to him, and before you know it you're attacking him in a hug.

Namjoon adds with a smile on his face,

"of course, whenever they're ready."

[yayteaberry]

*SFW* Wildflowers (Bakugou)

He hadn’t shown it, but he was very angry with you. An inordinate amount, yet there wasn’t room to do much about it without looking insane.

Your quirk wasn’t something he didn’t notice, it was manipulative and sneaky. The quirk was certainly notable in that he’d never heard of it before that point, someone producing pheromones to influence the people around them accordingly was a powerful thing to have on your side.

But for someone who was trying to become a hero, you had a seriously sadistic sense of humor. He didn’t notice it at first but now it was becoming a problem.

Obviously, you were toying with him.

The reason? He couldn’t say, there wasn’t any discernible gain beyond embarrassing him. Maybe that was the end goal then - keep him from his top performance by distracting him. In the span of two months he’d gone from refusing to memorize any names, to knowing your schedule like the back of his hand, and that was a major problem. It was an unintentional side effect, he wanted to be sure of wherever you were so he could try to prepare himself for your fuckery.

He spent a lot of time trying to recall if he’d known you in the past, why you would torture him like this. Though he never dredged up anything meaningful, at no point before UA had you even attended the same school as him.

At first it was a light annoyance, something he could dismiss as initial nerves brought on by someone who could have power over him. 

But it was getting unmanageable, he was wasting his time thinking about your dumbass when he was supposed to be focusing on his studies or counting the number of pushups he was doing.

You can’t be worth all this stress and attention, he knows there has to be an outside source.  Why on earth would he feel this way otherwise?  Somehow you’ve managed to become his greatest annoyance but also the one person he never minds being around.

Somehow, pft, it was obvious that you’ve been using your quirk to keep him from being a threat, keep him away from being better than you by softening him up.

The worst part of it all was your own passiveness.  You acted like you didn’t even know him while doing this to him, rarely looking in his direction and never speaking to him unless spoken too.

He was losing control of his own thoughts, getting visibly upset whenever Kaminari said a single thing about you. For his own sake he just chalked that talk up to Kaminaris delusional teenage antics, as if you’d ever give that freak the time of day. Why did he care? Why should he care? He never felt anything in that degree when Kaminari picked anyone else, what makes you so radically different?

Things were getting messy for him, blurry and confusing, too many questions piling up that had only one answer. You were ruining his mind with your stupid quirk. It’s your own fault! You’ve infested his soul at this point, rewiring him to brainwash him into doing whatever you ask.

Today was the last straw, he can’t take this anymore!  Every day he just waits for you to ask him for whatever you’re building up too, knowing in his heart that you’re about to take advantage of what you’ve been planting within him.  He’ll be damned if you turn him into a cowering sidekick.

The moment he knew for sure you’d be in your dorm, he made a plan. 

Well, ‘plan’ being the surge of adrenaline that filled him at the prospect of tiptoeing around you for the rest of his time at UA, potentially even once he became a pro. 

He decided he’d confront you, make you stop, and everything would go back to normal. After this he could finally resume his climb to #1 without your claws pulling him down.

It’s that thought he repeats to himself like a mantra as he speed walks over and kicks the door of your room wide open.

You yelp and nearly jump off your bed, the combination of being scared like that and seeing the boy responsible nearly ejecting your soul out of your body.

“I’m sick and tired of your fuckin’ bullshit!” He stomps inside, kicking the door a second time to close it.

You stifle the urge to scream, scrambling away until your back hits the wall, hands up as you try to defuse the situation. “Wait, wait! Hey now w-whatever you think I did, I swear I didn’t, if you’ll let me-”

“Shut the fuck up! There’s no hypothetical here, you’re fucking with me for fun and if you don’t stop it right now I’m gonna kill you!”, he curls his lip up, sparks lighting up in his palms as he tries to force a confession out of you.

“... What?” You’re completely lost, letting your confusion show as your shoulders drop.

“Don’t you ‘what’ me! Keep playing ignorant and see where that gets you!”, he raises his voice up another notch, taking a step forward. “I’m not an idiot like the rest of those extras, I see what you’re doing! You really think someone as smart as me wouldn’t notice!?”

“I never said you were an idiot! But I swear to god I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You spout anxiously, pulling your knees into your chest, feeling fully cornered.

He just rolls his eyes, closing the gap between him and the edge of your bed. “Oh so now you act all pathetic when I call you out on it to try and get me to feel bad? It isn’t gonna work! I-!”

When he inhales he catches onto the smell in the air, eyebrows knitting together as he feels an instant calming effect from it. “... The fuck?”

“That’s my quirk, that’s what it smells like when I want someone to calm down,” you shakily explain, still holding your hands out like you’re going to have to push him away, sending out as much relaxation pheromones as physically possible.

His shoulders roll back and he stops making his standard ugly expression, face zeroed out in a way you’ve only seen once or twice when he gets invested in something enough to forget he’s around others.

It’s cute, but right now it's more of a sign he’s no longer about to throttle you. “Yeah this is familiar in a way, when we’re in training I think. Guess I never noticed it could be pretty. Usually I’m just pissed that you’re trying to beat me.” For once he’s using an inside voice, which feels oddly personal since you’ve only heard him screaming. It almost seems like whispering in comparison. “So you can choose to make it scented? Masking it so people don’t see it coming is smart. But it’s not so smart now since I know what you’re doing.”

“Mask it? I kinda can’t, the point is that people breathe it in, if they can’t smell it then it doesn’t really work. I really do mean it when I say I have no clue what you think I’m ‘up to’.” You begin to ease off the output, not wanting to knock him out, which you’ve accidentally done before.

“No you have to be, it doesn't make any sense otherwise. You’re doing something or I wouldn’t be feeling this way. Don’t bother lying to me, I’ve already caught you.” He’s still passive but he crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head. 

You give an exasperated huff, “Feeling what way!”

“It’s so fuckin out there that I’m surprised you don’t use this tactic more in training. It’s totally obvious that you’re doing something to make it so I’m the only one who can smell your stink. You’re manipulating me, otherwise there’s no way in hell I’d be so dopey around you. Why the fuck else would I notice whenever you’re gone? Feel compelled to return your pens that you always drop since you’re such a klutz?”, he speaks as if it’s common fact, rolling his eyes as he continues, “You rope me in daily with these little details that you heighten by using your quirk, and then it’s like you have no idea who I am. Since you’re so comfortable living in my head, you should’ve seen this coming.” 

That's much more than you expected him to say, a light pink dusting across the bridge of your nose at the confession he has unintentionally given you.

“I-I can’t remember a single time you’ve done that,” is all you can think to say.

He clicks his tongue against his teeth, lolling his head from side to side as he formulates a response. “It’s just like when return all the shit you drop but you pretend to not notice, and you’re doing the same thing right now. It was confusing at first but now I’m just getting irritated that you keep playing dumb. Stop working your dumb stinky magic to turn me into your lackey, get someone else to do your dirty work if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Bakugou I’ve never done that to you, I wouldn’t!”, you stammer for a half second, making a judgement call on how you should handle this, and deciding to come clean. “I actually… I really like you…. I-I respect your work ethic, how strong you are, confident as well, I wanted to gain your attention through the right ways!” You sit up on your knees and make eye contact with him, trying your best to convey how much you mean what you’re saying. “If I wanted you drooling on my shoes then you would be, but everyone around me would be doing the same, my quirk isn’t selective like that. But I wanted to get noticed by you more than I wanted to chance annoying you as a first impression… I really wanted to have a reason to approach someone like you first.”

“Well that’s a stupid way to go about it. I can’t afford to have these kinds of distractions so if anything you put a lot of effort into just, wasting my time.” He’s nearly hesitating on some words. But he pulls himself together, staring you down for a moment. “So I’m done with this. I’m not doing this anymore, I’m done playing games.”

You can’t understand the logic here.

He comes barging into your room, demanding you stop making him like you against his will, and when he finds out it’s organic plus you feel the same way, he somehow manages to reject you? It stings, a lot.

“Yes or no.”, he sternly interrupts your quickly spiraling thoughts.

“Yes or no..?” Flat out confused for the millionth time, you blink a few times, pulling back the tears that threatened to spill over at his initial rejection.

“I’m not asking again.”, he curtly spits out.

“But what are you asking yes or no for?” You squint at him, unsure and waiting for him to say something along the lines of ‘Yes to dying or no to living’.

“Are we dating or not! Yes or no goddamnit!” He’s blushing brighter than you at this point, eyes pointed to various places in your room where you aren’t, shifting in place uncomfortably.

Suddenly it dawns on you.

Even after hearing your returned confession he doesn’t think you’ll say yes.

“Yes, Bakugou, of course.”, you say with a warm smile, reaching forward to hold his hand. 

His sigh of relief as he relaxes his posture strikes you as intensely adorable, though your heart skips a beat when he shoots you a smirk. “That’s what I thought you’d say.” 

#bakugou katuski x reader #sfw #bakugou katsuki #gender neutral reader #gn reader #bakugou fluff #mha fluff #fluff #a03 fic

[phantom-curve]

Second birthday is such a cool thing to call that! 8 or 35 if you are feeling so inclined.

Thank you! When I was a kid my mom always tried to call it my rebirth-day and I was like no❤️ I went with some Willex whump (with a fluffy end) for this one! Set in the gimme a chance AU, featuring pro-skateboarder Willie and anxious Alex. This is also a bit of a companion piece to the #8 prompt I wrote earlier!

#35: kissing their bruises and scars (Trigger Warning: mentions of injury, mild description of panic attack, and mentions of a car accident. Rated T for language) 

Alex generally tried not to think about worst case scenarios when Willie was competing. If he let himself, it was way too easy to imagine all types of situations that ended with Willie broken and bleeding at the base of a halfpipe while Alex stood helplessly on the sidelines. It didn’t help anything for him to obsess over what could happen, especially because at this point, Alex knew skateboarding was as much a part of Willie as drumming was a part of him.

It was just that ever since Willie had gotten his first sponsorship and moved to the pro circuit six months ago, he had started taking bigger risks. More complex tricks and a lot less hesitation to go big when he was representing the brands that were paying his bills. And that meant longer hours practicing and a higher chance of injury on a daily basis. Alex wanted to be a supportive boyfriend, the kind that would show up at the skate park to cheer and not have a panic attack every time that Willie wiped out, but he wasn’t. He was just an anxious guy in love with a dude who seemed determined to break every single bone in his body.

Things only got worse when Willie started traveling for competitions. He was gone almost every weekend, and Luke had finally convinced the manager at the bar he worked at to let Sunset Curve preform regular Saturday shows, and so, more often than not, Willie would be somewhere else in California flinging his body down an insanely tall ramp with nothing but a helmet and some pads to protect him while Alex was trapped in LA losing himself in the familiar pattern of sticks against drums in an attempt to control his raging anxiety. It had about a 68% success rate. That success rate increased dramatically when Willie called Alex the second he knew his set was ending. It plummeted on the nights Alex didn’t hear from him until much later, or worse, heard from a different skater entirely.

Tonight was unfortunately one of those nights.

When their set ended, Reggie called out the same line he had coined after their first performance, a couple audience members chiming in with him because they actually had a bit of a fan following now, and Alex wasted no time in grabbing his phone from the fanny pack he kept behind his kit during shows. Instead of it lighting up with a picture of his boyfriend’s face, he was met with a series of missed calls and text messages from the guys Willie was rooming with for the weekend. He tried not to panic, tried to breathe in deeply to a count of five, holding it for just as long before exhaling again. It kept the anxiety at bay for as long as it took for him to unlock the phone and read the last missed message.

Don’t worry, bro. They’re gonna airlift him back to LA so you can just meet him at the hospital whenever.

Panic hit full force. What the actual fuck had happened to his boyfriend?! Alex’s fingers were shaking too much for him to open the other messages, his vision going blurry and a distant ringing sounding out in his ears. It took him longer than it should to realize Luke was crouched down in front of him, Reggie hovering just beyond the drum kit.

“You have to breathe, Lex. C’mon, follow me.”

Luke inhaled deeply before letting his breath out in a loud woosh. Alex tried to copy him, but his chest felt too tight, his throat closing in the more he tried to open it. Luke kept talking, his voice low and calm.

“Try again, we can do it together. We just have to breathe, nothing else.”

Alex inhaled with Luke that time, not quite as deeply and not quite as steady, but more air than he had managed to get before. It took several long moments before he was able to match Luke completely, the fog starting to clear from his brain, surroundings snapping back into focus.

“Great, good, just keep breathing, okay? I’m gonna go grab the office keys and we’ll take a minute in there to talk, okay?”

Alex nodded, not exactly wanting Luke to leave but knowing whatever his best friend was saying logically made sense. Reggie slipped into the space Luke had been occupying, breathing in the exact same pattern, and Alex refocused on him. When Reggie stood, Alex copied him, reaching out to grip the back of Reggie’s red flannel as he led them both off of the stage and down the hallway to the office in the back of the bar. Alex dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

“Lex? Can you tell us what’s going on?”

Reggie’s voice was soft and quiet, like a gentle melody. Alex let it wash over him, knew his boys would be able to help if he could just figure out how to get his mouth to form the words it desperately didn’t want to say out loud. He fought to speak for a few moments before finally just thrusting his phone forward. A hush fell over the room as Luke and Reggie scrolled through the texts and Alex was suddenly grateful that he wouldn’t have to read through them himself. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, Luke cleared his throat and spoke.

“Okay, so good news or bad news first?”

“How can there possibly be good news?”

Alex’s throat felt raw and scratchy, the words coming out broken and strangled. Luke and Reggie exchanged a quick glance before Reggie sat next to Alex on the couch. Not touching, but close enough for Alex to feel comforted all the same.

“Willie isn’t dead or dying, so yes, there is good news. Which one do you want first?”

A significant amount of the panic left Alex’s system at the reassurance that his boyfriend was alive and going to stay that way for the time being. It hit him all at once, sending him into Reggie’s side as he let out a cry of relief. Reggie’s hand stroked up and down Alex’s arm, a low hum sounding in the back of his throat. Luke spoke again.

“Okay, so good news is that Willie is probably already back in LA, he’s at the best hospital he can be at, and he’s going to be fine.”

Alex clung to the words like a life raft. Willie was going to be fine. He turned it into a mantra, repeating it over and over again until he felt like he was back in control, no longer on the precipice of drowning. He disentangled himself from Reggie’s arms, took a deep breath, and met Luke’s gaze.

“I’m ready. Gimme the bad news.”

Luke let out a long breath before sitting down on Alex’s other side.

“The guys were in a car accident. They didn’t even make it to the competition. Willie was in the passenger seat and he took the worst hit in the collision. The other guys got taken to a local hospital, but they had to send Willie to Cedars-Sinai because of some special orthopedic department there. Max said they mentioned he would be admitted to the post-trauma floor.”

A car accident. He didn’t even make it to the competition. Alex had considered himself prepared for the worst when it came to Willie and his chosen profession. He had told himself that loving Willie meant accepting the risk that came with skateboarding, especially at the level that Willie did it. He had not once considered the fact that Willie could be hurt in some type of freak accident that had nothing to do with skating. The life raft slipped from his mental fingers, hurtling him back into the sea of despair once again.

“We got this, okay?” Luke was still speaking. “Reg is gonna call an Uber and take you to the hospital, and I’m gonna get Dante and Felix to help pack up stuff here and then come meet you. It’s gonna be okay.”

Luke’s words painted a path for Alex to follow, a way to move forward without having to fight so hard to do so. He nodded, allowed himself to be bundled out of the employee entrance and into the car Reggie had called. Clung to Reggie’s flannel again as they traversed the white hallways of the hospital, eventually making their way to a nurse’s station situated on the post-trauma surgical floor. Alex didn’t even let himself think about what that string of words implied. Not until Reggie nudged him forward to speak with the blonde-haired woman with kind brown eyes sitting behind the welcome desk. He forced himself to clear the lump in his throat and scrape some words together.

“Hi, I’m uh, my name is Alex. Alex Mercer? I’m looking for my boyfriend Willie? William, actually, his name is William Stewart. He was...he was in a car crash.”

The words came out in starts and stops, cracking at the edges as Alex forced them through numb lips. The nurse nodded, her fingers tapping across the keyboard in a sharp staccato.

“He’s out of surgery, but might still be a bit groggy. The limit is one visitor at a time, so your friend will have to wait out here.”

Alex turned to Reggie with a blank stare.

“You got this, Lex. Remember, he’s gonna be fine. I’ll be right here, and Luke is on his way too. Whatever you need, okay? We got you.”

Alex nodded even though the movement itself felt like a lie. The nurse smiled softly at him and for one split moment Alex wished he could call his mom, hear her comforting voice the way he used to when he was a scared little kid. But he had Luke and Reggie now. And Willie, who was alive somewhere in this hospital.

“He’s in room 604, just down the hall.”

Alex forced his feet to move. Forced himself to count the numbers on the wall until he found 604. Forced himself to open the door and enter the room.

Willie looked so small on the bed, his dark hair a mess across the stark white pillowcase, his leg encased in plaster and suspended from some contraption that hung down from the ceiling. He turned his head at the noise of the door opening, eyes half open and soft with sleep or maybe painkillers. The smile on his face was a mere shadow of its normal sunshine.

“Hey, Hotdog.”

Alex wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and curl into a ball and absolutely lose it. But instead, he walked to the side of Willie’s bed and sat down in the chair next to it that seemed to have been waiting just for him.

“Have you been crying? Please tell me you weren’t crying.”

Okay, Willie was definitely on drugs. Because of course, Alex had been crying.

“Yes, I’ve been crying! Are you kidding me?”

Willie winced slightly and Alex was instantly swamped with guilt.

“No, okay, let me try that again.”

He took a deep breath and reached up to brush a few stray hairs away from Willie’s face. There were a number of cuts and bruises marring his skin, a few of them hidden under bandages.

“Hey pretty boy, I’m so glad you’re not dead. I’ve never been more scared than when I saw that text from Max. I thought you cracked your head open on a halfpipe or something, what the hell happened?”

Willie tried to shrug and grimaced, like it hurt. Alex’s hands fluttered uselessly above his boyfriend’s body, unsure where would be safe to touch. He settled for grabbing the hand that Willie offered which was thankfully unmarked, nothing but some leftover scars from catching himself at the skatepark.

“I think our car flipped? There was a lot of crashing and my leg really fuckin hurt. It’s still hurts.”

Willie frowned, clearly addled from the leftover anesthesia and whatever they were giving him for the pain. Alex pulled his hand up to press a series of kisses across Willie’s knuckles, making sure to cover each scar at least once.

“You can’t die on me, Wills. I fucking love you, okay? I know you do insane stunts and regularly let yourself get beat to crap at the skate park, but you can’t fucking die on me in some stupid car accident. I’d lose my goddamn mind without you.”

“You love me?”

Willie’s voice was soft and awed and Alex suddenly realized he hadn’t ever actually said those words out loud before even though they’d been living in his brain for months now. When he looked into Willie’s eyes he saw a hint of wetness there, and his heart melted.

“Yes, I love you, you fucking dork. I’ve been in love with you for months.”

Willie grinned, dopey eyed and pink cheeked.

“Well, I’ve been in love with you for like, ever. So, I win. Gimme a kiss for my prize.”

Alex laughed and rolled his eyes, but obliged, nonetheless. Willie might not remember this interaction, but Alex would never forget it. A look of absolute peace settled onto his boyfriend’s face.

“I knew you’d come. I knew as soon as that car hit us that when I woke up, you’d be here. You’re the best boyfriend ever, that’s why I love you. And you’re so hot. Like, really hot.”

Alex’s cheeks burned, his heart kicking into overdrive.

“C’mere,” Willie nodded his head to the side and tried to shuffle over, like he was inviting Alex to climb in next to him. He made a disgruntled sound when the contraption his leg was in refused to budge, frowning up at the suspension system.

“That’s so lame, what the fuck? I wanna cuddle.”

And Alex, unable to resist even when he knew it would probably be better for Willie if he did, climbed up to wedge his body into the small space between Willie and the guardrails on his bed. He tucked one arm behind Willie’s head, pulling his face into the space between his neck and shoulder. Willie let out a contented sigh, his breath sending shivers down Alex’s spine.

“You smell like you,” Willie whispered, the sound happy and relaxed. “I love you, Lex.”

“I love you, too.” Alex sighed, kissing his way across every single cut and bruise he could reach without moving.

Willie settled into place, his body going lax and soft snores sounding out against Alex’s chest within moments. Alex let his own head fall to rest against the top of Willie’s, finally allowing himself to believe everything would be okay. When the same nurse came to tell him that his other friend had arrived and maybe it would be best to come back in the morning, he accepted it without complaint. She gave him a final moment to say goodnight, Alex taking the time to make sure Willie was tucked in tight before kissing his temple softly.

Willie was going to be okay, and Alex was going to spend the rest of his life making sure he was always the one there to kiss his scrapes and bruises.

Send me prompts for my second birthday!

#mads writes #send me prompts for my birthday! #willex #jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp ficlet #willex ficlet #willex week