#LOOK AT MY BABY BOY MY DEAR MICHAEL

[dabunnyvm]

My part of the color palette challenge for @modrbgd​ !!!

Pallete challenge and art trade for @dabunnyvm !

[cherry-cola-on-ice]

Slashers with a sleepwalking s/o

AN: totally based off my personal experiences sleepwalking lol asked my friends and family what their favorite sleepwalking episode was.

Jason Voorhees 🏕

Jason is already paranoid AF about you unknowingly wandering into a trap during the day.

But the first time he comes across you in the woods at night? When you should be asleep?

He is not a happy man. Many thoughts run through his mind. Are you trying to leave him? Trying to get yourself hurt? Would you rather die then be with him?

It takes him a good while and a lot of explaining for him to understand what's happening. That your not intentionally doing this. Science shit™️

He sets up a system. Maybe a bell or two. Something loud to let him know where you are. Maybe some trip wires.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: He watched you eat a entire sleeve of saltines while standing in the shower.

Michael Myers 🎃

Michael's seen some shit. So this is nothing. All those years in Smiths Grove have prepared him for this. So you sleepwalk? Cool, his neighbor at Smiths Grove used to eat cockroachs.

That being said, the closer you're relationship grows, the more worried he becomes. What if you fall down the stairs? What if you wander into the road? What if, what if, what if??

He doesn't have the foresight to set up traps, like Jason does.

Uses his fucked up sleep schedule to his advantage and often stands over your sleeping body. Jumpscare.

Will definitely tie a bell on you while you sleep. Totally not a collar what are you saying? Don't make it kinky.

The strangest thing he's seen you do: Put all of the remotes in the refrigerator because they needed batteries.

Thomas Hewitt 🥩

Poor sweet man. You're going to give him a heart attack one of these days.

However, he's probably one of the more better prepared of the lot. His house is set up to keep people in and out. So there isn't much danger you can get into.

Unless he forgets to lock up the basement. Which has happened once. And only once. You were fairly unharmed if not a little traumatized.

Has taken to locking your bedroom door. Also installs like 10 latches. AND puts a bell on the doorknob. And maybe sometimes you.

Look, he's already scared of losing you to somebody else, he doesn't want to have to worry him losing you to you.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: Him, Monty and Hoyt sat and watched you stand in front of the sink for a hour and a half. Just standing there. Menacingly

Brahms Heelshire 🐀

Oh, poor baby is confused. Especially at the start of your situation-ship. You don't know he's there, you just think you're babysitting a doll for a sad old couple. Not their grown ass son who lives in the walls.

The first time Brahms finds you sleepwalking, he's pissed. You trying to leave him, he knows you are. But... did you just snore?? Wait, you're asleep. He feels a little better about the situation.

Until you start walking towards the stairs. Boy's never moved so fast in his life. He knows if he wakes you up it's game over. So he gives you a gentle nudge back to your room.

Now after you find about the rat man in the walls, things are different. Brahms, even in the deepest REM cycle, will never let you go. Man is a koala and you are the tree he's clinging to for dear life. It's almost impossible to escape his arms at night.

Almost makes you sleep in the walls instead of the bedroom so you're safer. Like ain't no way you're getting out of those without him waking up.

Strangest thing he's seen you do: Sat up in bed, complaining about the maracas in your mouth??? He cried.

Billy Lenz 🎄

World's worst caretaker 👑

Especially before yall start dating because, at that point in time, he's still trying to decide if he wants to kill you. He won't lie, he very briefly thought about pushing you down the stairs.

But? After you win him over? Yeah still kinda sucks ass at keeping you from hurting yourself. He'll keep you alive, mind you, just a little worse for wear.

He asked you once if he could tie you down in bed. You didn't like the look in his eyes so you declined. Billy pouted for the next three days.

TBH he might do it anyways. Look he's just trying to keep your silly little self safe, S/O. Get your mind out of the gutter. Haha, jk...unless 😏?

The strangest thing he's seen you do is eat a entire bag of gummy bears while standing outside. He joined you.

Vincent Sinclair 🖌

Another prepared king 👑

His workshop is dangerous. Upstairs is dangerous. The whole town is health code violation. And bby cannot stand the idea of you hurting yourself.

But other then the constant anxiety that you'll some how end up falling off the stairs or falling into the wax or the any other number of things his brain comes up with, he's very level-headed.

Child safety locks. He buys that shit in bulk.

But hey, gives him a excuse to hold you at night. (Vincent, they're literally your s/o)

The strangest thing he's seen you do is stand over Bo's bed, chanting tomato. Bo almost cried.

Bo Sinclair 🔧

Definition of "Look at that idiot...oh wait that's my idiot!"

Honestly, probably the worst. Not like 'let's you just walk around' worst, but more like 'Imma gonna chain you to the bed' worst.

Dude's so scared of losing you, pretty much the best thing that ever happened to him, that his willing to go to drastic matters to keep you safe.

Don't try to explain the science behind it, you'll only give him a migraine. Just let him keep you safe. K, bby?

Bo's gonna lose sleep some nights, he's that scared. No doubt you will wake up to the feeling of someone watching you. Just comfort him, ok?

Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit up in bed and start singing 'Livin La Vida Loca'

Asa Emory 🪲

Number one prepared king™️

I'm not saying he may or may not, kinda sorta perhaps placed cameras around your living situation before you two even began dating. But yeah he did.

So he knows all about the crazy shenanigans you are up to at night.

He reads the books, watching online lectures 👏all👏the👏research. You can bet your sweet ass he knows exactly how to wake you up in case of emergency.

In the same breath, despite how much he does love you, science. Prepare to be studied like a bug under a microscope.

Strangest thing he's seen you do is standing with the refrigerator doors open, telling him how much you love this show.

Norman Bates 🚿

My poor sweet innocent murder bby. He doesn't know what to do.

Yeah, keep you safe, he's got that much down. But at what cost?

The hotel looks like a a daycare center now. Baby proofing everywhere (ask him about getting locked out of the bathroom, it's funny)

Suggested a collar once as a joke, wasn't expecting you to agree. Got flustered. Dropped his cup, maybe got a bone.

Another koala sleeper, so good luck escaping his embrace. Will go as far as following you to the bathroom to make sure you're actually awake.

Strangest thing he's seen you do is sit down in a fake potted plant in the living room and talk about dinosaurs.

[aemondsbabe]

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!🌟

“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 

“Do you?” 

“Fine, yes.” 

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 

“You.” It comes out as a breath. 

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 

“None?” 

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[saekkas]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄

summary: in which you need to wrestle your boyfriend, michael kaiser, out of his bed to fulfil a promise- re dye his hair.

notes: it's meant to be a continuation of this fic but you can read it as a standalone too! 2.1k words for my favorite german pomeranian <3

germany is beautiful. in all seasons and weather, even with rain and snow pelting down the windows. the bread and sausages make amazing breakfast items, the beer is pleasantly warm, and the sight of castles and palaces all around the country make you feel like a princess. your favorite though, is when spring comes around.

spring blows away the last dregs of winter. there are puddles from melted snow all over the station, sweaters are still needed because of the chilly air, and christmas decorations still litter around town square, ready to be replaced by the eggs of easter. it's when mother nature reappears, pushing winter away for another half year.

coincidentally, it's michael kaiser's least favorite time of the year.

"you don't love me anymore, do you?" he dramatically sobs into your neck, his hands holding onto your body for dear life. "you're moving away to break up with me, aren't you?"

his duvets feel like clouds. made out of the softest material, you find it hard to haul yourself out of the room every day. his sheets are made of silk, a beautiful rose gold in hue, and his bed is enormous, framed by mahogany wood on all sides. kaiser's bedroom is heaven on earth, and you've got your personal angel lying in the middle of it all.

"you've finally found someone better, haven't you?" he asks once more, his eyes peeking from your chest. his hair is a mess, the blue streaks already fading out to match the rest of his hair, there are dark circles surrounding his eyes, and he's got patches of drool in the corner of his lips. but you don't think he's ever looked more ethereal than this.

"who is it?" there's a pout on his lips, his eyes still drowsy from sleep. you watch with a smile of your own, taking in his fluttering eyelashes, your faces close enough to count every last one. "is it a guy from china that you met in hawaii? is he prettier than me? richer? is that why you're leaving me for him?"

"what are you even talking about, silly?" even when you roll your eyes, the smile stays, and you look at him with every bit of fondness in your body. "you're the only pretty boy for me. you know that."

his lips stretch out into a dopey smile, an uncontained giggle spilling from his lips. there's a certain giddiness in his motions, as if he couldn't contain his feelings inside his body. you watch with amusement as he kicks his feet, accidentally pushing pillows out of the bed.

"mhm. i know. just wanted to hear you say it," he hums, going back to nuzzling your tummy. he mumbles incoherently against your shirt before yanking the fabric up, burrowing his face onto your bare skin. "love you, pretty."

"were you out drinking last night?" you shake your head, squealing when he blows against your bare skin. "i thought i could trust ness to keep you out of trouble."

"i wasn't drinking." he's back to his whiny state, both of his hands tightening on your waist. there's a glare this time, his lips twisting back into a pout. "you shouldn't trust ness. trust me instead."

sunlight bleeds into the room, soft and serene as they bypass the curtains. a ray bounces off the mirror on kaiser's vanity, one he specifically added just for you, and makes its way to his face, bathing him in a dreamy glow. the reflection of light turns his eye into an icy blue, stealing your breath. he looks divine.

you take him in, as much as he does you. there's a muted sound from traffic, and the chatter of birds but in the moment, nothing else matters except you and him. his frown deepens after a moment of silence and you chuckle, relenting as you thread your hands into his hair.

"love you too, baby."

if there's anything you've learned from dating him through years, it's that your boyfriend absolutely loathes it when you fail to respond to his declarations of love. another thing, is that he becomes clingier and far more possessive when spring comes, dreading every moment he has to be away from you for matches.

it's seen in the way he's holding your body tighter, preventing you from moving an inch off the bed. he's pouty, lips twisted downward because it's the last day he has you to himself before he's called back to the field. it's on days like this that you smother him until he can't shake away the ghost of your lips around his body, even in the middle of a match.

"gonna let me move anytime soon?" the hand on his head moves to glide down his neck, stroking the sensitive skin around the back of his ear. you watch as he moans, his eyes snapping shut at the touch. "mein kaiser?"

"wenn du so weitermachst." his voice is low, his heart beating faster as he moves from his previous position to hover above you with half lidded eyes. "du wirst dich überhaupt nicht bewegen können, liebling."

translation: if you continue to be like this, you won't be able to move at all, darling.

you suppose there's a reason he's down on earth rather than above. michael kaiser may have the looks of an angel but he acts like the devil.

he's looking down at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes, as if ready to eat you alive. you gulp, eyes roaming down the expanse of his chest before they land on the necklace dangling by his neck. the ring it holds is 24 carats, gold, with roman numerals of your anniversary date engraved on the inside. it matches with the diamond encrusted promise ring on your finger, gleaming in the shade of his eyes.

you tug the necklace, pulling him until you're nose-to-nose. you shiver at the way his eyes darken even more, his lips quirking into a smirk. "who knew you were so naughty, liebling," he hums, pushing your knees apart to slot himself between your legs. "who taught you, hm?"

"you did," you say before lifting the ring to your lips, kissing it with a small smile. he shudders at the intimacy of the action. "you also taught me not to break my promises, right?"

kaiser raises an eyebrow at the direction you're taking this. he's got you on the bed, flushed, under him. to him, the only promise worth thinking about right now is the promise of intimacy and pleasure.

"i promised to dye your hair, remember?" you lean forward, this time pressing a kiss onto your beloved. "you can do whatever you want to me after we're done."

he groans, letting himself drop on your body. he giggles when you groan at his weight, his face flushing at your words. "whatever i want. that's a promise too, right?" the whisper of his voice against your ear is delightful, and you nod where you're pressed against his shoulder. "i hope you intend to keep that one too, liebling~"

he waits for a moment, savoring your warmth until you start to squirm. laughing, he hovers over you once more to press a kiss on your forehead before scooting over to make room for you to move. "gonna let me use your mask?" he grins widely when you nod, rushing over to the bathroom.

but not before stripping off his night tee and chucking it straight at your head, laughing like a mad man when you throw his beloved stuffed panda at his back in retaliation.

your boyfriend has always been restless. he's never shown much patience, and you should've known that re-dyeing his hair was going to be a hassle. "hold still, mikka." your tone is scolding but not stern, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration to make sure the dye doesn't spill. "i need to make sure you look pretty."

he stops squirming at the nickname, a mischievous smile spreading on his lips as he places a hand on your hip. "you should call me mikka more often, it's cute." he looks up from his position, seated on a chair and facing your front, and wiggles his eyebrows at you. "not only when you want something."

"yeah?" you hum, distracted by the strands of his hair in your hand. you grasp at it with gloves, sectioning to thinner pieces before using a brush to smear the color in. it comes out decently and you grin in satisfaction before moving onto another strand. "glad you like it. it suits you."

kaiser stays unmoving, not even answering back like he's supposed to. concerned with the sudden silence, you look down only to be greeted by a blinding his smile. you quirk an eyebrow, smiling at him in question. "what?"

"you're so cute." he tries to shake his head, stopping when you send him a glare. the hand on your hip squeezes at the fat in affection, his eyes shining even against the brightly lit bathroom. "ich liebe dich, liebling."

"very romantic of you," you say with a roll of your eyes. you store away the bowl of blue hair dye in your hand, leaning down to press a kiss. you feel him hum against your lips, his smile widening from the kiss as he pulls you closer. "i love you too, mikka. even when you won't sit still."

"are you done yet?" he asks with wide eyes, the sight of his puppy eyes looking at you from below sending butterflies to your stomach. "can i look?"

"mhm. go ahead." you step back, making room for him to face the mirror. you watch over his shoulder as he examines his newly re dyed hair, the blue strands at the bottom a contrast to his pale blond. you were getting used to the full head of blond, getting used to having mikka all to yourself. now you've got to share him with the world again as michael kaiser makes his comeback on the field.

"you like it?"

"i love it and i love you."

"maybe we should try another color next time. like purple or pink," you say before giggling at the way his face lights up at the suggestion. you eye him in curiosity when he turns to look at you with a proud grin.

he moves quicker than you expect, grabbing your waist and setting you on the bathroom vanity. he pushes you against the mirror, planting a searing kiss on your lips. you feel him smirk against your lips as his hands move to trail down your waist, settling on your thighs.

"there. a thank you kiss for my little genius," he says, breathless from the exchange, a wicked gleam in his eyes that you're wary of. he leans his forehead against yours, pressing a kiss to your nose. "one 'i'm sorry' kiss too."

"what for-" you're about to question him but a sigh interrupts your words, one that comes from the feeling of wet hair dye trickling down your neck and clothes.

you glare as he presses another kiss in apology. "i'm sorry."

"no, you're not," you snort at the teasing smile on his face. "now i have to go bathe."

he perks up, "want me to join-"

"no."

bonus:

"you really are pretty, mikka." glancing at the mirror from behind him, you watch with fascination as kaiser pushes a hello kitty hairband onto his head. it's yours, one you bought as a pair with his pink panther one. surprisingly, he likes this one more. "the prettiest."

you watch him nod to his own reflection, seemingly agreeing with your words. his newly dried hair bobs along with the motion, the strands fluffy and smooth. you'd run your hands through if you hadn't just spent the last half hour styling it.

"your prettiest-"

"-like a german pomeranian."

"...what?"

"nothing!" you laugh at the disgruntled expression he wears, shaking your head. hoping to appease him before the whining ensues, you hand him a small container filled with matcha facemask. his favorite to wear because it does wonders for his skin.

he looks at the thing as if it's offended his entire lineage. "you're seriously going to bribe me with this?" he pouts, crossing his hands against his chest.

such a big baby. your big baby, though.

"what's wrong? pomeranians are cute!"

"yeah but i'd be more of a husky," he grumbles as he pushes the pink panther hairband onto your head, clearing any hair away from your face. he uses a brush to smear the mask across, stopping every so often to peck your lips. "they're handsome, strong, and expensive."

"high maintenance, too," you mumble under your breath before shrugging. "i just like pomeranians better," you grin, scrunching your nose when he finishes with a kiss on it.

"...fine. german pomeranian it is then."

[intimacyequalsdeath]

heyya!!!... Beautiful💐.

I see requests are currently open, so if you don't mind... can I request a sexy wife s/o who loves to cook and will always make slasher food? And prepare all their needs (you know like a good wife in general🙃),My twin sisters really like their slasher Especially for Bo, Lester, Vincent, Thomas hewitt,Charles Lee Ray and Michael Myers...

Oh, I also think it would be great if they had obedient children with the wife s/o. They know how their father is and they choose not to worry too much about it. Please....I'm sorry if I requested when your requests were closed, but, I've been looking for a blog for a long time whose requests are still open and finally I found your blog 😭.

My twin sister is sick and I want her to be able to read the story you made from my request 🙏.

Love you dear

Thank you so much for the request sweet anon! <3 I hope me deciding to do Headcannons for each story was ok to anon. Sorry this took so long, I worked on it in chunks over the course of a few different days.

Also I hope you sister feels better soon Anon <3 <3

Slashers with a good little wife and good little children: The Sinclairs. Michael Myers, Thomas Hewitt and Charles Lee Ray.

Also not my gifs, not of the gifs I use are ever mine and full credit goes to the original creators <3

Notes: Minors DNI, Written with AFAB in mind as per request, suggestive themes. Story under the cut. Request centers around "traditional" wife roles. Talks of pregnancy and children.

<3 : Bo loves the idea of having a good little wife and good little children to boot. He just never thought living in Ambrose and as a man with his hobbies he would get to experience that, until he met you.

<3: You instantly took over cleaning and cooking, even some of the spots in Ambrose no one even went into anymore. You had no idea how the boys had managed to survive so long with living like they were raised in a barn.

<3: Bo also liked how you liked to steer clear of anything having to do with his business and what went on at the gas station.

"it ain't your place" He murmured once into your hair when you asked him about it when the relationship was still relatively new. That was the first and only time he ever had to tell you that.

<3: Bo was thrilled by your want to stay out of his and mind your own that it was surprising when you ultimately fell pregnant after only about a year being in Ambrose. As if he'd let you leave.

<3: Bo let you take care of all the child rearing duties, with him being gone usually all day it was just easier plus the last thing he wants to come home too is crying children after a long day.

<3 As the children grew you had to teach them about what their father and uncles and explain why it would be inappropriate to ask anyone about it. All they needed to know was that they were safe and their daddy loves them.

<3 The sight of you being rounded with HIS baby also does things to Bo, So don't be surprised if he makes it a goal to keep you pregnant as often as possible.

<3 Bo would be a in and out father I think though, not that he means to be he does love the children. His relationship with his own father affects how active he is a lot of the time and since that's the only father figure he has to go off of he doesn't wanna turn out like him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Papa!' The children yelled as they ran through the door of the gas station to their father. You had a free instance of free time so you thought you'd bring them down to bring Bo some lunch.

"There's my babies" Bo said opening his arms to catch all 3 of them up in them. He turned to you poised and ready for the kiss you planted on his lips as you set the basket of food down on the counter.

"We made you lunch papa!" Your youngest girl said as he placed her back on the floor. Bo smiled at her.

"You did now didya?" All three children nodded as you opened the basket and began to explain to Bo what you made him. It wasn't long before your family bubble was interrupted by a car pulling up outside.

Bo's gaze hardened as he turned to look outside the station windows he then turned to you and the kids before barking an order.

"You four need to go on and get back to the house now" He said, The children having been through this before nodded before falling in line behind you to head back home.

"I'll come get ya'll when I'm done" Bo said planting a last kiss to your lips before you waddled out of the gas station, giant pregnant belly and all three little ducklings in tow.

<3 Soft mushy Vincent is soft and mushy.

<3 You are his doting little wife and he is your doting husband. His heart swells every time he sees you coming down into the basement with a plate of food and a drink.

<3 At first he was a bit nervous about you growing board of Ambrose since he wouldn't let you be involved but when he saw you begin to clean literally anything and everything he figured you were alright.

<3 Vincent loves your cooking and it actually helps rouse him out of the basement to come and sit at the table with you and his brothers.

<3 When you fell pregnant the first time, He was stunned. Like truly stunned. He never thought fatherhood more or less being a husband was in the cards for him ever.

<3 To know have both he couldn't believe it. A cute little house wife and a baby he hoped would look just like you.

<3 If the baby isn't twins expect to start trying for a sibling right away. Vincent like his brothers adores the sight of you pregnant with his baby. It awakens a primal instinct inside of him to be the provider and keep you safe at all costs.

<3 Vincent would be afraid that the baby would be afraid of his face or his mask, no matter how many times you assured him other wise he couldn't help but worry.

<3 If the children grow up to question their fathers face or what he does in Ambrose, you and Vincent will tell them the loose truth obviously omitting a lot of detail. At least until their old enough.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Vincent, your her daddy. She'd never be afraid of you" You told him softly, reaching out in an attempt to hand him your daughter.

Ever since she was born Vincent refused to hold her as he didn't wanna scare her off with his mask or his face.

He looked into your eyes as he went to shake his head, before he could though you had shoved your baby into his arms and positioned his hands in the proper places to hold her.

Vincent jumped at your sudden action but was never the less quick to cradle his daughter. He looked down at her once she was settled and when his eyes met hers that matched your perfectly he felt his breath leave his body.

Vincent had never experienced a feeling like this in his entire life and doubted he would ever feel it again. He was head over heels in love with this little human the two of you had made together and from that day he vowed that anyone who tried to come in-between him and his family would have him to answer too.

<3 Lester is used to cooking and cleaning his own space so it takes him awhile to get used to you doing it for him.

<3 He appreciates it greatly but he doesn't fully understand why you would want to clean up behind him like you do though. Like he picks up roadkill all day who would want to smell that?

<3 He doesn't complain about you cooking though, He thinks your food is amazing and it's great to come home to a warm cooked meal every night.

<3 You do so much for him so don't be surprised if Lester comes home every so often with little gifts he's collected for you. Some of them may or may not come from victims but as Lester's good little wifey you never question it, you just press your lips to his and thank him for the thoughtful gift.

<3 When you fall pregnant, again like his brothers, Lester is thrilled. He can't be in the same room as you without running his hands up and down your swollen belly while trying to feel the baby kick.

<3 Lester wants a football team of children, so be prepared to make many renovations to the cabin the two of you share to accommodate all the children.

<3 Lester loves bringing his sons out on the road with him when their old enough and with your permission of course. He'd never let them participate in anything Bo or Vincent do but helping him with roadkill is just fine by him.

<3 If any of the kids ever questions what their uncles do in Ambrose and why Lester doesn't usually want them around it, He'll tell them that it's because of Vincent's delicate projects and that answer is enough for the kids.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Nah sweetpea, you know why you can't go to Ambrose" Lester softly told your son after the fifth time he had asked to go see his uncles. Your son sighed and pouted slightly before speaking.

"I know uncle Vincent's art is easy to break but I promise I won't ruin anything"

"My love, I've told you it's rude to question your father" You piped up from your chair in the living room, running a hand over your slightly swollen belly. "Why don't you go join your brothers outside for a bit before dinner, and stay where we can see you" He gave you a sad look but nodded and went through the front door outside.

"I know the boys love Vinny and Bo, but I just want em to be safe" Lester told you sitting on the arm of your chair and putting a hand over yours sitting on your belly.

"I know Les, but when their older they'll understand why we have rules" You shot him a smile and he gratefully returned it. He was so lucky to get someone so understanding of the "Family Business"

<3 Thomas was raised to be a family man. Luda Mae had always told him growing up that one day he would need to find a wife to continue the Hewitt family with.

<3 Enter you, ending up at the Hewitt farm like so many others, but not meeting the same fate as them.

<3 Thomas would've easily put babies before marriage but Luda Mae insisted that you two do it the traditional way and get married first.

<3 You were quick to win her over with your affinity to help out with cooking and other house chores. Especially when it came to taking care of her darling boy Thomas. She was thrilled he had found someone who loved him so much.

<3 In the Hewitt house hold with Monty and Charlie both breathing down your neck, it's easy to be reminded to leave the mans work to Thomas and just focus on helping Luda with whatever she needs.

<3 When you fall pregnant with the first baby, the whole house hold is thrilled.

<3 Luda, Charlie and Monty all never thought they would see the day that Thomas would continue the Hewitt family tree so it was a very big deal when you fell pregnant with Luda's first grandchild.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Now darlin' you know your not supposed to be doing anything in your state" Luda reprimanded as she walked into the kitchen to see you doing dishes.

"I know mama but laying in bed all day everyday is driving me nuts" You told her drying off a plate you were washing. Luda joined you at the sink grabbing a cup to wash it before handing it to you to dry.

"When I was pregnant with Charlie I almost got driven up a wall myself. Just don't let Tommy see, You'll never hear the end of it" She said giving you a small smile before heading back to the living room.

You stood at the sink and continued to wash until you heard familiar footsteps heading up the basement stairs, you tried to pretend like you weren't washing dishes but it was too late, Tommy was on you in an instant.

"Tommy hun it's ok!" You pleaded as he took the dishes out of your hands and herded you towards a chair. You couldn't help yourself but the laugh of how your giant husband could be turned so soft and attentive with you.

You grabbed Tommy's hands before he made you sit down and placed them onto your rounded belly. His eyes met yours instantly and your foreheads pressed together.

"Tommy we're fine, I promise honey." Tommy looked at you incredulously before rolling his eyes and huffing at you, you laughed. If there was one thing in this world Tommy couldn't say no too it was you.

<3 Now Charles I could see being a bit different. Sure he adores having someone cleaning and cooking since he's out doing what a serial killer does most of the time but when it comes to kids he's a bit hesitant.

<3 He loves that you love to cook for him. It's nice having warm meals to come home too for once, Brownie points if their his favorite foods.

<3 Doesn't so much like when you get on him about tracking blood through the house or getting one too many stains on his clothes.

<3 If you really want a baby start telling him how lonely you are when he leaves for long periods of time to go kill people. He'll give you want you want as long as the baby stays out of his way.

<3 He'll be a good dad though don't get me wrong and he'll love the kid or kids just as much as you but he's a busy guy that's got shit to do so he mainly sees them as your responsibility.

<3 Might get jealous of all your attention going to the baby though, he understands it has too but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it all the time.

<3 Your never going to be the picture perfect family but for your Charles will try his best to give you and the kids everything you'd ever need.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Charles! what have I told you about tracking blood in the house!" Your voice echoed through the house. You heard a muffled laugh as he rounded the hallway with your 3 month old in his arms.

"Babe I'm sorry, you know I never mean too sometimes it just happens" He said adjusting your bundle of joy in his arms.

"Whaddya think kid should mommy forgive me just this once?" He asked your child you babbled in response.

"You said just this once the last three times chuck" You deadpanned before breaking a smile when he did.

"Just a hazard of the job toots" He laughed, You joined him before your eyes were met with the deep red splotches on the blazer he was wearing.

His eyes followed yours before his froze and turned to walk away with the baby in tow as you yelled out behind him.

"Charles! The blood!"

<3 The only inkling of what a normal family functions like that Michael has ever gotten was from his childhood, and to be honest I think his memories of that are very few and far between.

<3 You want to do what for him? Cook and clean ? why on earth would you want to do that for? Michael is confused.

<3 Though preparing to go out and finding a nice fresh out of the dryer jumpsuit all nice and warm and clean for him is quite nice. Michael thinks this is something he could get used to.

<3 On those late nights where he comes back late and finds plates of dinner wrapped in tinfoil ready for him to either heat up or eat just like that is also something he could get used too. It tastes way better then what he usually eats (Totally not dog, totally not)

<3 When kids get brought up though, it's a different story. I could honestly see him not really being all for it at least not at first.

<3 He's really like Charles but more so into the you can have kids as long as they stay far out of his way.

<3 His feelings towards them also aren't the most parental either. He loves them ? At least, Michael feels an emotion he could probably equate to love about them.

<3 But yeah I think for Michael it's best you just keep the kids clear of him. It's not easy when your father is the shape of Haddonfield.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Welcome home Mike!, your dinner is wrapped up on the counter love" You greeted him as he came home after a night of terrorizing the town. Placing a kiss to the cheek of his mask.

Michael nodded wordlessly, as always, and turned to go into the kitchen. Tonight you had made his favorite, or at least what you only thought was one of his favorites by the way he every so slightly changed reactions every time you made it.

You gave him a second before following him into the kitchen and sitting next to him at the island. You watched as he lifted his mask up for each bite of food before lowering it to chew.

You made the mistake of questioning him once as to why he didn't just take the mask off. It was early on in the relationship and his hand instinctively went to his knife before you even finished asking. That was how you learned it's better to just not ask Michael questions at least not about the mask.

The two of you sat in silence, a routine you repeated pretty much every night unless you were already asleep when he got home. You would spend all day cleaning and making sure everything was ship shape for him then you would greet your monster of a man when he came through your front door.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Michael's plate crashed into the sink and broke into pieces. Michael still didn't understand how to not hold the plate too high and just to sit it in the sink.

Looks like something you'll still have to work on. No one said the shape of Haddonfield was smart when it came to chores anyway.

[laneywrld]

satisfied | jude bellingham royal AU

chapter one

summary : juliana windsor is the future queen of edendale, she hasn't met many people that have intrigued her enough to capture her attention, that is of course until she meets the duke of ashworth, jude Bellingham, and grows fond of his unusual manner of behaving, he isn't an ordinary nobleman, is he?

wordcount: 5.7k

warnings: none

listen while you read for the full experience:

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Julian's firstborn was expected to be a son, as tradition dictated in the royal circles of their time. Julian, the eldest son himself, had two younger brothers. His wife Celeste, the only daughter among her parents' five children, was preparing for the arrival of their first child, fingers crossed, a healthy boy.

The nursery had been prepared in grand style, fit for a future king, completely overlooking the possibility of a princess gracing their lives.

Imagine their astonishment when the newborn emerged with a head full of hair, a girl entering the world with quiet grace, her eyes already sparkling with a mysterious depth. The room fell silent for a moment, unsure of what to make of the unexpected turn of events.

The silence lasted only a few moments before Julian stepped forward and eagerly dipped his arms into the cradle and retrieved his freshly cleaned baby.

"We must name her."

For hours the couple take turns shooting out names, fit for a queen, all of Julian's remaining on the border of traditional king names.

"Julian, I am not naming my daughter, Henry, Julius, or Michael, she will grow into a lady one day!"

"Julian The Second," Julian proclaimed proudly, holding the infant as if she were a royal decree. Celeste, still recovering in bed, immediately interjected, "No! And you must not hold her that way!"

"She is my junior!" Julian argues, lowering the baby from his boastful high arms and pressing the tiny girl closer to his chest.

The pout on her husband's face, has Celeste shaking her head. "We said we'd name our first child after me, my love. So that I may live on with them, even when I am no longer with them."

"She is not your son, Julian," Celeste retorted with a laugh, finally ending their playful debate over their child's name, "Let's go with Juliana."

His eyes ignite like the flame of a candle, "Juliana." He croons, moving towards his wife and settling beside her, their daughter nestled in his embrace.

"Our little princess," Celeste hums, and Julian corrects her, a soft, loving smile adorning his features, "our future queen."  

Celeste smiles softly but her eyes hold a knowing look, "We'll have to have a boy, make a king. A boy will be the son of the land, but Juliana will be ours, our sweet, sweet, girl."

"Although you were not what was desired, you are no less dear to me, my beautiful, beautiful, princess."

"Juliana Charlotte Windsor," Celeste announces into the room.

"But we'll call her Charlie short for Charlotte."

"Julian!"

Julian was the perfect king.

He was a natural-born leader full of charisma and compassion. He was dutiful, he worked hard, he was brave and he had a great deal of responsibility.

He respected tradition and legacy.

For the most part.

Julian began to face a troublesome subject when his firstborn turned out to be a girl.

Julian was a man of morals, he believed in rights. And although the world around him may not be prepared for such vast changes so soon, he's almost certain that he couldn't find it in himself to care much.

Julian could keep having kids until his wife delivers a boy, or, he could give his poor wife relief and give his daughter her rightful place on the throne.

If you asked Julian, even if his wife was fortunate enough to deliver a son, he'd still rewrite the rules, his Juliana would rule the land, and she would be the rightful heir to the throne and she would continue his family's bloodline.

If you asked him why, he'd tell you.

As he sits and writes his first address since the birth of his final child, another daughter. His eyes roam the lands through his grand view and he has no choice but to admire his lush and thriving fatherland. One he'd hope is full of acceptance and love, as he watches his eldest, Juliana run through the royal garden, her gleeful shouts, loud enough for him to hear from the top floor as he addresses his kingdom from his office.  

Julian knows that a parent must not pick favorites, and he believes he hasn't, but his heart swells at another level of pride anytime he is in dear Juliana's presence.

But, he doesn't have a favorite he swears. Juliana is just his firstborn, she's just his daughter destined for something greater than the rest of the ton, than the rest of the world. Juliana just so happens to be named after him and carries almost exactly the same, well everything as Julian including every aspect of her name.

Coincidence, one would think not.

Julian must admit, it's a tough pill to swallow for most parents, but you can have a favorite child, the only issue is, that you must be a father enough to not love one more than the others. That is why Julian Charles Windsor is the perfect man and the perfect father.

He was aware of how strong one woman could be, he was okay with a woman ruling the land, and he was fine with giving control to a woman. It just so happens that the woman he believes in the most to turn the world in the right direction is his daughter.

His prized daughter, Juliana.

Juliana, who although is a proper lady, is currently digging a hole in her mother's garden to retrieve a worm, doesn't even know that she is the catapult that has shot the world in a new direction. She is going to make history, and as she shovels her bare hands into the dirt, her father watches with a filled heart and eyes sparkling with hope. He can only hope that the world accepts his child with open arms and love just like he had. It'd be selfish of them to keep Juliana to themselves when she was the rightful first child of this new nation. Juliana his for a while, the nations, forever.

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓜𝓪𝓳𝓮𝓼𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓜𝓸𝓼𝓽 ��𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓐𝓭𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼

To the Beloved Land, I Julian Charles Windsor, ruler of this great, noble kingdom, humbly address you, the very foundation of our existence and prosperity, with a heart overflowing with love and determination for the future of our realm

As I gaze upon your vast landscapes, rich soils, and majestic mountains, I am filled with a sense of reverence and gratitude. It is upon your fertile grounds that our people have toiled for generations, reaping the bountiful harvests that sustain us through times of plenty and times of scarcity.

Your rivers flow like lifeblood through our lands, quenching the thirst of man and beast alike. Your forests teem with diverse flora and fauna, providing shelter and sustenance to all who dwell within your embrace.

I recognize the sacred duty bestowed upon me as your steward, to protect and preserve you for future generations. I have vowed to govern with wisdom and foresight, ensuring that your resources are managed responsibly and that your beauty remains unspoiled.

May your fields be ever fruitful, your waters ever pure, and your skies ever clear. As long as I sit upon the throne, I pledge to honor and respect you, dear Land, for you are the true source of our strength and prosperity. May your families remain loved and you continue to have our nation's best interest at heart.

As your king, I have always believed in the power of love and family as the bedrock of our society. It is through the bonds of kinship and the warmth of affection that our land has bloomed and flourished. From the humblest peasant to the noblest lord, each of you contributes to the woven silk of our kingdom with your love, care, and dedication to one another.

I have been privileged to witness firsthand the transformative power of love within my own family. My dear wife, the queen, has been my steadfast companion and support through all the triumphs and trials of our reign. Her love has been a beacon of light in my darkest hours, and her wisdom has guided me in times of uncertainty.

Our children, especially my beloved daughter Juliana, have brought immeasurable joy and meaning to our lives. Their laughter echoes through the halls of our palace, reminding me of the importance of cherishing the moments we have with those we hold dear.

It is with this spirit of love and family that our kingdom has thrived. Through compassion, empathy, and mutual respect, we have built a society where every voice is heard, every heart is valued, and every soul is nurtured.

As your king, I implore you to hold fast to the bonds of love and family that unite us. Let us continue to care for one another, to support one another, and to uplift one another in times of need. For it is through our collective love and affection that our land will continue to bloom and prosper for generations to come.

As you are all aware, our gracious queen has brought forth our third and final offspring, and to your noble surprise, she is a girl, brimming with happiness and vitality. To our great delight, she is a cherished and beautiful princess. Regrettably, the aspiration for a Windsor king among you shall remain unfulfilled.

Though I must pen these words to you all, heavy with both responsibility and hope for the future, the rules must change and we must change with them.

For too long, our kingdom's laws and traditions have favored the male line of succession, passing the crown from father to son in an unbroken chain of kings. However, as I look upon my three daughters, particularly my eldest, Juliana, I see a light that shines brighter than any that has graced our land before.

My beloved daughter, Juliana, is the light of my life and the hope of our kingdom. Her spirit shines with a radiance that eclipses all others, and her presence fills my heart with a love that knows no bounds. From her earliest days, she has shown wisdom, compassion, and a sense of duty far beyond her years.

I know that she will grow into a woman of remarkable strength and grace, and I am filled with pride at the thought of her one day leading our people. Leading you.

I have made the difficult decision to change the rules of succession so that Juliana, my beloved daughter, may inherit the throne. She deserves her rightful claim, not hindered by outdated traditions that do not recognize her worth. Any man who wishes to marry her shall be welcomed into our royal family as a consort, taking on the Windsor name and pledging to support and serve alongside her.

The decision to change the rules of succession in favor of Juliana was not made lightly. It is born out of a deep conviction in her abilities and a love for her that surpasses all else. My dear wife, the queen, has endured great hardships in childbirth, and I will not subject her to further pain and risk in pursuit of an heir of a specific gender. I have witnessed her struggles and sacrifices, and I cannot bear to see her suffer any longer for the sake of tradition.

Juliana's worth as a leader and as a human being far exceeds any arbitrary rules or expectations. She is kind, compassionate, and morally upright in every way. Her love for our land and our people knows no bounds, and I am certain that under her reign, our kingdom will flourish like never before.

I understand that this change may be met with fear and uncertainty by some, as it challenges long-held beliefs and practices. I have no doubt that some may question or resist this change, but I stand firm in my decision. It is a necessary change, one that acknowledges the value and capabilities of women in leadership roles. It is time for our kingdom to show its appreciation for women and to elevate them to the regard they have always deserved.

My love for Juliana and my belief in her abilities compel me to ensure that she receives the recognition and respect she deserves as the rightful heir to the throne.

Dear Land, I entrust to you the future of our kingdom under Queen Juliana's reign. May she lead with grace, wisdom, and compassion, and may our people thrive under her rule as they never have before.

May her reign be marked by prosperity, unity, and justice for all.

With deepest respect, unwavering love, and, admiration,

𝒥𝓊𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒹𝓈𝑜𝓇

𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝐸𝒹𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓁𝑒.

In the grand, opulent chambers of the palace, King Julian sat at his ornate desk, a sense of victory brimming his bones as he neatly signed off on his announcement.

"Ledger," the king called out, his voice resounding with authority yet still very much filled with warmth.

"Yes, your Majesty?" Ledger responded, his expression alert and obedient.

King Julian leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Can I entrust you to ensure that this address to the kingdom will be in every hand by tomorrow evening?" he inquired, a sense of urgency underlying his words.

With a deep bow, Ledger replied, "Yes, sire, you can rest assured that it shall be done."

A smile of satisfaction played on the king's lips as he praised, "Amazing. Your dedication to the kingdom does not go unnoticed, Ledger."

"Your Majesty," Ledger Nods with a smile, bidding his way.

King Julian turned his gaze towards his loyal servant, his eyes alight with joy, catching him just before he exited the grand office. "Juliana turns six in four days," he began, his voice filled with paternal love and pridefulness. "Will your children be able to make it for the party?" he inquired.

"Thank you, your Majesty. My children will be honored to attend Princess Juliana's birthday celebration," he replied, a sense of warmth and gratitude in his voice.

King Julian nodded, a smile lighting up his features, "She'll be excited to see them again, thank you. Can we extend the invitation to the cities and the villages? I'm sure there are plenty who would love to celebrate their future queen."

"Yes, Sir. I'll get right to it."

Juliana remembers her sixth birthday like it was yesterday.

The hushed anticipation that draped the air like a silken cloak as she made her entrance, hand delicately clasped in her father's. It is a scene she replays often in the theater of her mind. It was a moment of revelation. The realization that the power and prestige woven by her lineage, where every courtier and attendant bowed in deference to her family's authority, would follow her forever.

The weight of that authority, the gravity of respect that enveloped her family, was a mantle she had never quite grown accustomed to. Even now, fourteen years hence, as the gates of the castle swung open once more in honor of her birthday, Juliana found herself wistfully yearning for simpler times.

It's not like she didn't enjoy opening the gates for her land, sometimes Juliana just wished it could be only them.

Her father, mother, and sisters. And they'd eat cake and she could be an improper lady as she tossed the delicacy at Eloise. And she could cackle as her father swiped his caked fingers against her mother's face.

A gathering where cakes would fly like confetti, where propriety would take a backseat to playful revelry.

Yet, duty beckoned. Juliana was not merely a princess but the future queen, and the eyes of her people sought glimpses of the monarch she would one day become.

As Madam Laurent, her faithful confidante, and seamstress, meticulously fastened the regal gown around her, Juliana pondered the significance of the crimson hue that adorned her form.

Madam Laurent stands behind Juliana, her gaze tight in focus as she pulls at the already tight dress.

Juliana breathes in, holding her breath as the dress cages her ribs closer and closer together.

When Madam Laurent announces that the gown is tied she lets out a breath of relief and turns to gaze at herself in the grand mirror.

"Madam?" Juliana inquires, "Why red?"

"Your Grace," the seamstress intoned, her voice thick with age-old wisdom, "red signifies authority, power, passion, and strength. It is a proclamation of your status, a declaration that you are not to be trifled with. And, above all, it bleeds the love that flows within you. Does it not resonate with you, Princess?"

"I adore it," Juliana admits, "though I cannot help but wonder if our power need always be showcased as a spectacle."

"Would you rather your strength remain veiled, hidden from the world?" Madam Laurent countered gently. "Do you not want the world to know how powerful you are?"

"Those who wield power often lack grace," Juliana mused, her gaze meeting the seamstress's with a glint of dissatisfaction, "Madam Laurent."

The dressmaker hums, her eyes turning down inquisitively.

"Princess, you exude grace in every step you take," Madam Laurent remarked, her eyes alight with a spark of inspiration. "Perhaps it's time we consider a new color palette for your future ensembles. However, I must confess, your father and mother may not readily embrace such a change."

Juliana snickers with her seamstress, "Indeed, Madam, I suspect they would cling to the color red even on their final day."

"Cream," a gasp elicits from Madam Laurent, "We'll do cream." Her eyes widened in delight. "Cream," she breathed as if unveiling a hidden treasure. "Yes, cream it shall be."

Curious to understand the significance of this sudden choice, Juliana inquired, "And what symbolism does cream carry with it?"

"Purity, innocence—" began Madam Laurent, only to be swiftly interrupted by Juliana's irreverent snort of amusement. "Oh, spare me the innocence madness," the princess quipped, her voice laced with playful skepticism. "Men seldom don pristine whites without harboring some deceitful intent. Imagine that, adorned in white and still lying whores!"

A burst of laughter escaped Madam Laurent, her hand instinctively seeking refuge over her smiling lips. "Princess," she playfully chided, "such words are hardly fitting for a royal maiden, that is no way for a girl to speak."

Juliana's response was laden with a hint of defiance as she shrugged nonchalantly. "Fortunately, I am more than just a maiden. And good thing I'm a woman.

Madam smiles proudly at the younger girl, "You did not let me finish, Princess. Cream is also comfort. It is welcoming and friendly and calms the eyes. It shows humility a modest view of your own importance, not starch white, so bright it burns your eyes, not dark enough to be impure or intimidating, just warm enough to show your warmth, welcomeness, humbleness, your simplicity."

"I like that."

"I believed you would, my grace. There's a depth of character that lies within the color, a modesty that resonates with your essence."

"Now that, Madam, I resonate with, I find solace in that," Juliana admitted, her gaze meeting Madam Laurent's with fondness.

"Then it is settled," declared the seamstress with a smile of approval. "I shall craft a cream ensemble for you to wear amongst the people as you grace them with your presence tomorrow, Your Grace."

Just as Madam Laurent gathers her equipment and stuffs them into her basket, the door is swung open and Juliana's sisters rush in.

The weight of being the future ruler of the kingdom weighed down on Juliana's shoulders, but not as much as being a big sister

Juliana the oldest of three, had two younger sisters that she's taken under her wing.

Eloise, the older of her younger sisters, only eighteen, was sweeter than any delicacy in the land.

She wasn't the smartest by any means, but Juliana could say that because she was her sister. Where she lacked knowledge, she made up for it with her kindness. Which worried Juliana more than she'd like to admit, kindness without knowledge is a recipe for being fooled, and sometimes her sister is absolutely helpless without her.

Lorelai was the opposite, she was smarter than most, probably had the sanest mind out of her entire family, if you asked Juliana, the only thing holding Lorelai back was well, her lack of kindness. She was broody and blunt, and her honesty knew no bounds. Secretly Juliana loved it, especially at the dinner table when she had someone to feed into her well-kept thoughts.

But the point is that her sisters rely on her heavily, for almost everything.

And she loved them more than, well everything.

Juliana was destined to be many things, there were so many things she planned to be or just wanted to be. But for right now, she was content with just being their sister.

That was truly her greatest accomplishment.

Juliana can't remember her life before Eloise, her wheezy girl. But she imagines that if she did, she would only remember waiting for her. As if being a big sister was her true calling.

Besides being the future queen, there was only one title Juliana would rather bear, and that was a sister.

So when her sisters the royal princesses bustle into her room like they have no proper manners almost knocking over the family's seamstress she can only frown at them disappointingly.

"Girls!" she demands, "Manners, apologize to Madam Laurent."

"We're sorry, Madam Laurent." They apologize in sync, only briefly looking toward the older woman before they dramatically continue their march toward their sister.

"What is troubling you now?" Juliana chuckles, stepping down from the step riser.

"Lorelai is being cruel again!" Eloise stomps, her arms coming up to cross over her chest.

"I was not! I was being truthful!"

"About?"

"She said that it'd take a miracle for me to marry a smart man of status with how clueless I am. Said I'd be better off with a stable boy!"

Juliana turns to look at Lorelai, her face set in a stern pout, "You mustn’t speak to her or about her that way, we are sisters, we love each other and we treat each other with respect, always."

Lorelai sighs dramatically, "But-"

"But nothing." Juliana commands, "Apologize and never fix your lips to speak about her that way again, it is not kind."

"Well, I'm not kind." Lorelai protests.

"Trust, I know, you're a little demon, but you're my sister and she's too, so you mustn’t treat us with that same devilish behavior." Juliana teases, her fingers coming up to pinch at her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Eloise," Lorelai grumbles, and Juliana gasps.

"See how easy that was little angel, lai!"

A blush creeps onto her youngest sister's face and Juliana raises her brows at Eloise, "Are you going to accept her apology?”

"Yes," Eloise smiles, "I am. Thank you for that, I love to hear you accept defeat."

Lorelai lunges at the girl and they fall back onto Juliana's perfectly made bed, tussling with each other like sisters do.

Juliana only laughs at the pair, egging them on until she sees her mother enter her room.

"Girls," Juliana commands.

The three daughters stand before their mother, who eyes them knowingly.

"You girls, are going to make a mess of yourselves if you keep up with the horseplaying. You've finished getting pampered." She scolds.

"Yes, mother. Sorry mother." They apologize, scampering out of the room.

"Oh, my sweet Juliana." Celeste coos, when they are the only two left.

"You look absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you, mother."

"You're twenty today, officially a woman." Celeste raises her brows, "One is left to wonder when perhaps you'll take on a prince, to reign with you. Perhaps a grandchild or two for your parents?"

"Mother!" Juliana gasps, turning away from her mother and plopping down onto her bed. "Please!"

Celeste laughs, "I'm joking. But you are a woman today, so tomorrow you must step up."

"I am aware, I understand what I must do."

Celeste comes to sit beside Juliana, she almost looks troubled.

She reached over and pulled her daughter's hand into her lap, encompassing it with her own.

"I've got a soft spot for you, Juliana. I really tried to keep you from this fate. I swear it, I did. I tried and I tried to give your father the boy he needed. I never wanted this for you."

"Mother I am content with my role."

"Because you have to be, lovie. There is no male heir to the crown, and there will not be, your father lacked patience, I could have given him another, it could have been a boy."

"Yes, my father isn't the most patient," Juliana begins, "Yet you aren't the most accepting. You could have had another, yet you would’ve likely died, or the baby. And if the baby didn't, what if it was another girl, father has four daughters and no wife?"

"I know." Celeste sighs, "It's just that, the world has its eyes on you, that is a lot of world for a little girl."

Juliana laughs quietly, "I thought you said I was a woman."

"You are," Celeste smiles, her eyes brimming with tears, her hand comes up to cup her daughter's cheek, "but you were always supposed to be my little girl, you'll always be, even if you belong to the entire kingdom."

"I'll make a fine Queen."

"I know you will, sometimes I just worry that it'll be too much-"

"If it is, rest assured, Eloise is next in succession." Juliana cackles.

"Dear God!" Celeste grumbles, her hand coming up to palm at her forehead, "The kingdom would probably burn in pink flames."

"Penny!" Celeste calls out, and her lady-in-waiting creeps in, her hands outstretched holding what appears to be a soft pillowy case adorning a gold, diamond-encrusted tiara, decorated in red rubies.

Juliana smiles and lowers her head as her mother places it on her head.

"Another tiara?"

"Happy birthday, princess."

Hours later Juliana hides in the shadows, peeking over the banister at the many people gracing her home.

She'd grown accustomed to people-watching with age.

You could learn a lot about a person when they are unaware of prying eyes. In her quiet observations, Juliana had uncovered some interesting tidbits about the guests.

She's learned a few things so far, Lady Caroline, for instance, appeared to be quite the polished drinker, a very well-put-together drunk, but still a drunk nonetheless.

How could a lady that small put away so many glasses of the best wine?

Sir Watson is in love with Sir Hamilton, unrequited, if she could tell anything from the longing looks Sir Hamilton shot at her maid.

She lets out a hum at this one. She always loved a good drama.

Lastly, her father was terrible at surprises, she gathers this as she watches him order his staff around in hushed yet rushed whispers.

She lets out a chuckle, shaking her head as her mother pulls her stressed father out of the grand hall.

"Up here all alone at your own celebration?" The playful remark broke the silence and Juliana only turned her head briefly, eyes scanning the stranger from head to toe, when she concluded that he appeared to be no threat she faced her guest again.

He lets out a deep chuckle, one that rumbles from his chest and flows into her ears, it has her turning to face him once more, taking in his appearance.

He was handsome, beautiful even, with perfectly managed hair and well-shaved facial hair, he seemed too put together to be anyone from the outskirts of the city, and she was sure she'd recognize him if he was from any noble house within the city.

Despite the interruption, she remained composed, acknowledging his presence with a smile. "I enjoy people-watching," she replied nonchalantly, her gaze lingering on his handsome features.

Jude hums in acknowledgment, his hands unfolding from behind his back and grasping onto the banister as he mimics her previous position.

She stares at his side profile briefly, before she returns to her stance.

Jude chuckled, moving closer until their arms brushed against each other as they watched the festivities below. "Not creepy at all, princess," he teased, his light-hearted banter catching her slightly off-guard.

"You know who I am-"

"Yes, everyone knows who you are, Princess."

"Yet," Juliana continues, "I haven't a clue who you are, that's a bit rude, isn't it?"

Jude smirks, his head turning to peer down at the curious princess, "I guess you are right, I am Jude Bellingham, Duke of Ashworth, your grace, a pleasure to finally meet you."

He lifts her hand from the banister, bringing her knuckles up to his lips in a quaint kiss.

Juliana pulls her hand away with a slight grimace. "I've never met you before, why?"

"I am a busy man."

"Too busy for your future Queen?"

Jude chuckles again and Juliana is almost sure that it's all he's good for.

"Never too busy, always seemed to be misplaced when your time comes around."

Juliana hums, her eyes still roaming over the stranger, Jude finds it amusing, allowing her to examine him with curious cat-like eyes, he allows it, his own eyes never leaving her face.

She lets out a quiet snicker, her lips turning into a tight smirk, an effort to hide the laughs that want to tumble from her lips.

"Are you laughing at me, your grace?" Jude muses.

"No- well yes, I'm laughing at your choice of color for tonight."

"I thought it'd be fitting to match the royals in red."

"Is that what they're calling us?" Juliana shakes her head.

"Well, the red royals, it rolls better off the tongue, you shake your head, but you are wearing the color as well."

"Not for long," Juliana replies, as a matter of fact. "I think I'll retire the red."

"For what color?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Actually yes, I've been taught that color holds hidden meaning, I'd love to know who our future queen is."

Jude is different, and he surprises Juliana. He's easy to talk to and the banter flows naturally between them.

She hums, "If you ever have the chance to see me again, Jude, Duke of Ashworth, you'll know who I am."

Jude only chuckles, his eyes remaining on the crowd below, yet her eyes linger on his frame, still very much curious about the sudden appearance of this stranger.

"Why are you here tonight? My mother trying to marry me off to you?"

It wouldn't be the first time her mother has sent a handsome suitor her way tonight.

"Not your mother," Jude winks, "your father, wants me to marry you and be the loving husband of the future ruler of our kingdom."

Juliana feeds into his playful banter, "That's all you'd be, you know?" Though it comes out more meek than she intended.

"I'd be fine with that." Jude shrugs.

Juliana smacks her teeth, unconvinced. "You are a Duke, therefore I'm assuming the eldest brother? If you were to marry me, you would essentially be putting an end to your family's name, unless of course, you have a brother."

"You've assumed correctly, I've got a little brother."

"And you'd be okay with putting your title onto him?"

"I'd be king." Jude declares with a shrug, "Much cooler than a Duke-"

"Except," Juliana chides in, "I would have the power, the control, and the name, and you would just be my husband, you would be fine with that?"

"Not every man wants to be in charge, princess."

Juliana raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Jude's response. "You're quite different from the other nobles I've met. Most would jump at the chance to be in a position of power."

Jude chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on her. "Power and titles don't hold much appeal to me. I'd rather live a life of freedom and adventure, even if it means relinquishing my status."

Juliana studied him for a moment, a flicker of admiration in her eyes.

"You're a curious one, Jude Bellingham. I can't quite figure you out."

Jude grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Perhaps that's what makes me so intriguing, Your Grace."

"You're satisfied at least?" she inquires. She doesn't know why she asks, but she has a feeling that the man before her longed for something more.

"Not quite yet, and you, are you satisfied?"

"Not sure I ever will be."

"Then we might just be the same." Jude lowers his tone the words linger in the air between them as they watch the guest below dance and accept glass after glass.

Juliana found herself enjoying Jude's company more and more. His easy demeanor and genuine interest in her thoughts and opinions made her feel seen and understood in a way she hadn't experienced before.

Never had another person other than her own family allowed themselves to be so carefree around her, not even her staff when she begged them to.

As the night wore on and the festivities below began to wind down, Juliana felt a sense of reluctance at the thought of parting ways with Jude. She couldn't deny the spark of connection she felt with him, even if it was just feeling the burning of her cheeks as she felt his eyes occasionally studying her.

Minute after minute they took turns, sneakily glancing at the other. Occasionally breaking the silence with simple jokes about Lady Caroline and yet another glass of wine. He even laughed when she made jokes about her father, his king. No one had ever done that before.

"Princess." The gruff voice calls out from behind her.

"Sir Lewis." She smiles, stepping away from Jude, "everything alright?"

"Everything is just fine, your grace, your father would like to see you, he has some important people for you to meet."

Lewis eyes Jude, a sense of protectiveness entering his body as he steps forward to study the man.

"Jude, this is my footman, Sir Lewis, and Sir Lewis, Duke of Ashworth, Jude Bellingham."

She eyes Lewis with a warning glance as if to say tread carefully.

"Sir." Lewis drops his head politely. And Juliana smiles tenderly at Jude as she makes her way to her loyal and protective footman.

"Perhaps we'll meet again, Jude," Juliana said, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Until then princess, I'll be eagerly awaiting the day you reveal your true colors. Whatever color that may be."

idc idc, i love julian. i plan on possibly making this a long series just because I plan on doing so much with jude and juliana, so prepare for very much more of them very soon. 😌

[alexiavettel]

Ten things I hate about you

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: age gap, explicit language, allusions to sex, drinking, mentions to death, motorsport accident, angst sometimes, rbr mentions (ew), Horner mentions (he’s not the bad here), no use of Y/n, Daniel Ricciardo is a walking cliché (it’s actually cute for me) and Michael and Scottie are actually babies. 

summary: The ten reasons why you hate Daniel Ricciardo through the years. But remember, the line between hate and love is thin, be careful…

I hate the way you talk to me,

“What are you doing here kid? This is an adult RedBull party, you shouldn’t be here”

“Shut up Ricciardo, I deserve to be here as much as you”

“For being the boss daughter? Wow how deserving!” 

“And what are you doing here? I thought you jumped off last year”

“Y’know gal once you go Danny Ric you never want to go back, your daddy likes me so here I am”

“Dear god, I thought that after you were a coward and moved to Renault I would never have see you again out of the paddock” 

“You don’t what you’re talking about, girl” the older man towers over you in the corner of the saloon.

“So unbothered until someone call you coward, right? You’re childish Ricciardo, that’s what you are”

She hates when he calls her kid. 

and the way you cut your hair.

“Oh my god what have you done, cowboy?” 

“Liked the new cut, golden girl?”

“Wow stopped calling me kid, it’s a significant development Ricciardo”

“Want me to come back calling you kid? ‘Cause I don’t mind”

“Shut up, and to be honest no. I don’t like it, the new cut just shows your age better you’re almost going bald man be careful” you said laughing.

“What wait really?”

“Your hairline looks like circuit corners, to be honest. But hear my wise words big boy, let it grow more than you’re used to. Curls look good on you”

Daniel always have his curls looking good now. 

I hate the way you drive my car.

“C’mon girl, you drunk too much” 

“OH DANIEL! What are you doing here, handsome?!” you might had a little too much long island iced teas

“M’gonna take you home, come on” he took your both hands and led you to the exit

“What about my car? She’s my precious daughter I can’t leave Daisy alone!”

“You named your car? You scare me sometimes little girl… You’re lucky I took an Uber, ‘gimme the keys” 

“Don’t talk about Daisy like that!” you drunkenly shouted in the parking lot

“You’re joking you drive a manual! You have a fucking Supra what are you? Brian O’Conner?” he put you in the passenger seat and belt you on.

“Not like you’re not a fucking formula one driver, huh? Lucky me! And don’t talk about Daisy like t-that she’s purple not orange like in fast and furious” He just rolled his eyes and started driving.

“Didn’t know you could drive, even more a manual”

“You say that because you never saw me drifting”

They spend the next night drifting in an empty parking lot. 

I hate it when you stare.

“What are you looking at mate?” Nico asked the younger man

“N-Nothing” he stopped staring at you across the paddock

“Hmm ‘nothing’ right? The ‘nothing’ you mentioned is that one covered in Red Bull merch staring back smiling right now?” Daniel immediately looked back searching for your smile but just found you laughing at one of Albon’s jokes.

She felt his eyes burning into her, she always did. 

I hate your big dumb combat boots,

“Ouch! Daniel!” You shouted after he stepped on your foot in the middle of a dinner at your dad’s house with some friends, former drivers. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean it” he gently caressed your hair with an apologising smile 

“Okay but why the fuck are you wearing combat boots? It’s a dinner Dan, I thought you had a better sense of style”

“Sorry darling it’s not about the boots, it’s my big feet and y’know what they say-“

“Shut up, Ricciardo”

He gifted her a pair of combat boots on her birthday. She wears it at every opportunity. 

and the way you read my mind.

“Stop. Stop thinking too much” he caressed your cheek 

“But I am not-“

“Yes you are, I can almost hear your thoughts and I know they are plenty. Just don’t make a big deal out of it, if you want to stop and pretend I never kissed you we can do it…”

“No-"

He kissed her goodbye that night, and did it almost all the others nights too. 

I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.

“I have something for you… I asked Michael to put it in your driver's room” you quietly whispered while passing through him in the McLaren hospitality 

“Late valentines' gift, darling?” he said laughing.

“Maybe…”

You were scared of being a little too fast, but it was inevitable. You hate the things he makes you feel.

When the man found the sunflowers in his bed he was beyond surprised. But the two letters between the yellow fresh plants made a glint appear in his eyes. The first one had “about you and me” written down in the envelope. 

“I have sat upon the seashore

and washed away my fears.

I have lived so many days now

that they are turning into years.

I have walked up in mountains.

I have splashed around in streams.

I have conjured up ideas

that have moulded into dreams.

I have seen a thousand faces

And I've matched a thousand smiles.

I have been to so many places

that I'm losing count of miles.

I have heard the wind, so gently,

cause the trees to creak and moan,

but I have never felt a heart

as perfect as your own”

And the second one had “about your eyes” written down in brown tint. 

“You hated your eye colour,

called it a dull and dirty brown

Wished for the deep blue of an ocean,

where admirers hearts would drown

And it pained me when I realised,

you'd never see it like I do

The way your eyes hint a story,

that I want to read right through

They hold specks of stolen sunlight,

that you'd miss with just one glance

And a depth of raw emotion,

that can freeze you in a trance

They're a fix of melted chocolate,

when I'm craving something sweet

But hold a gaze that's so unwatering,

that I find it hard to meet

I fall right down the rabbit hole,

when I look into your eyes

The brown of earth's unfettered beauty,

that I yearn to memorise

When I was tired of not belonging,

they made me feel like I'd been found

And I hope you never say again,

That your eyes are simply brown.”

He even posts pics of his eyes now.

I hate it, I hate the way you’re always right.

“You need to stop running away! You want to end this or not? You want to keep hiding us from your dad like an afraid little kid? I do EVERYTHING to be with you but in the moment it gets a ‘little too real’ you run! That’s what you always do!” Daniel never screamed at you but today has been an exception.

“You don’t understand, Daniel! It’s not just my dad, it’s a lot more complicated than that!-” you mourn sitting in the sofa

“What? Have you realised that I am ‘too old’ for you? That you are wasting your time with me? That the public and your family will criticise us?”

“You are not old for me, babe… But they will speak y’know? I hate the media speculating about me with every single driver, but what if that damages your future in another team? What if your fans start treating you differently alleging that you ‘groomed’ me since we have known each other since I was 18? What if-” you started walking towards him

“You are too much worried about me, darling. Think about yourself. Think about us, how happy we make each other. I know you’re scared, babe… But that is what would make me happier. We can wait how much you want but I’m scared too. I’m scared you’re going to leave me for someone better, you have so many options it just doesn't make sense why you chose me…” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek after

“I am never leaving you. I am just scared” his eyes gave you the comfort you were looking for, that you always searched

“But love is scary. Specially after we couldn't even tolerate each other and now we are, this” he pointed between you “I have fears and more fears with you, but our love is bigger than all of them. If you want to be with me, for real, you also have to learn to surpass your fear. We are a team, darlin’”

He was right. He always is.

I hate it when you lie.

“You are a fucking asshole, Daniel!” You shouted after closing his door.

“I am sorry-”

“No you don’t! You could’ve died, Daniel for god’s sake. You could’ve died and I would only know after receiving a hospital’s call. You lied to me, you promised ages ago that you would never… I don’t understand, like I really don’t.”

“Darling, listen-”

“Daniel, I can't hear your voice right now. It’s making me angrier and I don’t want to act irrationally”

“Can I just explain why I lied?”

“Now? No. Please go away, I really need to think. Alone.”

You don’t understand, he had a car accident during the testing for the 2021 season and said it was nothing much. You watched everything on tv and didn’t looked too bad, but you were worried either way. The g forces are too much sometimes, but he swore he was fine. Long story short, he was not. He literally disappeared for more than 24 hours and you were looking up plane tickets to Bahrain when Michael called you telling what happened.

When Daniel crashed a part of his helmet was broken, and his head hit the neck support. Obviously could’ve been worse, but the amount of blood that came out of him was scary. Michael send you some pics after you almost threatened him of death, he explained that Daniel had only a small opening in his neck. And he was conscious enough after the crash to get out of the car, message you and go walking to the medic station. But unfortunately one blood vessel has been hit in the process and he was having an internal haemorrhage.

The thing is, he was notified before the surgery and he answered your call saying that “I am completely fine darling, just gotta do some exams and gonna be back to sleep in the hotel in some hours. Don’t worry, I love you” the first time he really said those words, and could’ve been the last. 

She said I love you back. And took care of him until he was good to go back.

I hate it when you make me laugh, 

“Oh my fucking god, Daniel! My dad is going to kill us” you said laughing after being thrown in your father’s pool with Daniel. His Monza win meant more to you two than you had expected.

“He can kill me if he wants, but it was worthy. At least I’m going to die happy. I could die happy whenever I’m with you” he kissed you messily. 

“So cheesy, Dan ew. But if you really meant it, I hope it’s going to take a bit more to your death ‘cause I have no plans of ever leaving you”

“And I am the cheesy one-?”

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING HERE?” Oh that must be your dad… oops?

He always loved her laugh, even when they hated each other… The sound of her laugh always was the closest thing to heaven, for him.

even worse when you make me cry.

“1st task: word search, find your gift.”

No fucking way, Ricciardo. You say “I’m sad” in one day, and in the next you wake up with this note in the bed. The only possible answer in this messy word search was office. When you got to his office desk a box of chocolates was waiting for you, with another note, this time in the format of a heart.

“2nd task: i need to be fixed, what am i?”

Just could be the wardrobe door, that shit almost knocked you up one day. Just right, honey. You found a little cute poem with another note.

“I don't want a fairytale

ending with you.

I want to be there

to help you face

your fears and 

to help you overcome

your failures.

I want to give you

the kind of love

that's not distorted

and fabricated,

but real, raw

and honest.”

“3rd task: complete the sentence, w__r_  __  _ s_en_  m__e  __me  on  _ho_e?”

With an embarrassing amount of time, you discovered to be “where do I spend more time on phone?” and that must be the main bathroom. In the mirror lipstick were marking the words

“4th task: i am in your most peaceful place”

with a little flower in the end. There’s only one place.

When you opened the wooden door that separates the living room from the garage and garden you felt tears burning your eyes. Daniel were sitting in the garden with sunflowers, picnic basket, plenty of fruits, drinks and food in general. 

“Sorry about the lipstick I used an old one and I swear I’m gonna clean after and-”

“You’re the most cheesy, cliche and argh I don’t even know what to- I fucking hate loving you!” How could you get so lucky? This 5’10’’ aussie, who has the biggest smile, loudest laugh, the best hug ever and seems like his life mission is making you the happiest person alive.

“Darling, don’t cry please! I hate when you cry!” he walked over you

“You were the one that made me cry!” you laughed sniffing giving a kiss in his cheek

“Eh… I might actually have one more thing…”

“What? I don’t think you can surprise or make me cry even more-” you said cleaning away your tears.

“Surprise!” You were wrong. Definitely wrong. Inside the picnic basket instead of more food was a little dog puppy, which couldn’t even open his eyes properly in this light. They furr shined in the sunlight, nose slightly scrunched and tail faintly moving side to side.

She thought the first time she would cry for a man, that it’s not her dad, would be after a heartbreak not for a cliché surprise.

I hate it when you’re not around.

“I’m sorry, babe. I promise after this work I’m gonna get on the first plane to you, and then we can enjoy my summer break together. I swear”

That was the third time he said it, the only time he promised tho. It’s hard to get that much time to spend with your boyfriend, and then he still works in his holidays.

He did what he promised but after 3 days. 3 whole days of his absence, it’s different when he’s in the paddock. At least you got a bit of him, the good morning and good night texts, facetime before sleeping and the most important thing of your life: your dog.

When he is not around, she feels like the loneliest person in the world.

and the fact you didn’t call.

It has been a while since that happened but you still remember how the feeling was. The feeling of being just a piece of meat, just drunk sex, a replacement, an embarrassment or worst, a regret.

Your first time with Daniel was after his win in Monaco, 2018. Both drunk not only in tequila and whiskey but in lust. To be honest you don’t remember much of this night, but you remember him. And he remembers you. His hands were imprinted on your curves. Your fingers tangled in his hair. When you woke up in an empty bed, in a hotel room that was not yours. You remembered all too well.

You remembered that he didn’t call. You remembered that he ignored you in the garage and the paddock. When you finally got to ask (you sneaked into his driver’s room) why he was running he admitted “I just can’t even think when you are around now! All I have is memories when I look at you, and that makes me fucking mad! It makes me wanna hate you more but also makes me wanna kiss you more and fuck you more and I can’t! We shouldn’t. It’s wrong. I assume the responsibility, I’m sorry”

That was the first and last time he didn’t call.

But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

“So you hate loving me? Relax I hate loving you too” Daniel gave his characteristic laugh after you finished saying your poem at the end of your wedding vows.

•

“We are a team, in this life and all the others". That was the end of his vows, you could see he was shaking the entire time. You risk it looking at Michael and Scottie (obviously the best men) and they were crying like babies, pretty much more than you. 

“See why I hate loving you, Ricciardo” you mentioned cleaning your tears half laughing and you could hear the guests laughing with you. 

“You’re a Ricciardo now too, darlin’”

“You can kiss the bride now”

This was not the end. She still hates Daniel, everything about him, but especially, how much he was easy to love. He promised they were a team and he will always deliver on that, the love of this life of his and all the others too.

@laura-naruto-fan1998 enjoy <3

my taglist!!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Megamind Au for @fanofstuff02 Hope you like it!

You see the guy there? The one trying to grab the ray gun in mid air? That's me.

I've been having a pretty shitty week so far. I've trained a psychopath with magic powers, lied to the love of life, and got my ass beat pretty good.

But maybe I should back up a bit.

Many years ago, I escaped my dying planet with only the clothes on my back and the orphaned baby girl that I saved. It didn't us long to come to this new planet named earth.

It also didn't take us long to be introduced to the legal system there, our home was pretty much the prison for the longest time. This was how I met him, Michael or his found name The General. You know, because he was “The General” of defending forces or some shit. How fucking boring can you be?

Well I came up with a far better and way more fitting name for myself.

The Devil.

Sera walks down the hall of the prison and knocks on the glass scaring Peter. "Read on your own time. Open up." He did as he was told. Sera went to the glass and didn't see Lucifer anywhere. "Hey!"

"Boo!" Lucifer jumped out of nowhere scaring Sera. He started laughing like a crazy man as he sat in his twirling chair. He gave her a devilish smile "Good morning Sera, dear, how’s it going for you?"

Sera bristled. "I'm not-"

Lucifer interrupted. "Good news, I’m a changed man now! Ready to make a fresh start in the society as a trusteable citizen!"

The warden stifled a laugh. "You’re not as smart as you claim if you really think you’d be trustworthy! You are a fucking villain and you’ll never change and you'll never leave."

Lucifer blinked but kept his smile. "You're fun you know that?"

Sera clicked her tongue looking beyond unimpressed. "Someone sent you a little gift."

"Oh is it a duckling?"

"No." Sera deadpanned. "Oh look, it’s from The General! For you to count the every second of your 66 life sentences. Now that’s fun, never would’ve thought General would care about a piece of garbage he put in prison." She placed it on her wrist. "Oh but he does have good style. You know, I think I’ll keep this."

Lucifer grinned wider. "Can you do me a favor and tell me the time? I don’t want to be late for his huge museum opening."

Sera rolled her eyes and glances down at the watch. "Oh no, looks like you’re gonna miss it. With several thousand years." She said snidly before walking away.

Lucifer just hummed softly. "Mm, I don’t think so." He could wait, he had time. And oh boy he didn't have to wait long. The guards brought in Sera who was disguised as him. When placed in his seat, Lucifer stole the watch back.

"No you fools, he tricked us." Sera said weakly.

Lucifer grinned evilly. "You're right." He changed into Sera. "I'll always be a villian. Muwahahahaha!" Lucifer took off out of the prison.

His daughter Charlie was waiting for him in the car. "Hello there father!"

"Charlie you amazing daughter you! Good job getting me the watch sweetie." Lucifer got in the car and sped for downtown, he changed back to normal.

They had a news reporter to kidnap.

"Make sure to come on down for the General day celebrations. I'm Adam Kadmon, for 69 news." Adam gave the signal to his camera man Alastor to turn the camera off.

Alastor smiled. "And cut, that was amazing the stuff they get you to say."

Adam crossed his arms. "I wrote that piece myself Al."

"Oh, well it's amazing they let such art on the news."

Adam rolled his eyes playfully. "Good save."

Alastor places his camera in the news van. "Why don't we, uh, blow this joint?"

"Oh come on we can stay and enjoy the General day celebrations!" Adam gestured around, it was a beautiful day with clear sunny skies.

Alastor frowned and looked away. "Well if I was the General, the Devil wouldn't be Kidnapping you all the time." He started going on this long rant, Adam learned to tune him out years ago.

All Adam can do is shake his head. Yeah getting kidnapped was annoying but it also got him paid leave. What he didn't notice was the invisible window rolling down. A nozzle was aimed at Adam's face spraying him in the face. "What the-" Adam felt dizzy, he fell back as his world went dark.

Charlie grabbed him before Adam hit the ground and drove off. Lucifer smiled wide as Adam was laid across his back seat unconscious. "We met again, news reporter Adam Kadmon.~"

Adam came to a while ago tied to a chair in Lucifer's lab. He was rather annoyed. "You promised me that you’d get me ribs the last time you kidnapped me."

Lucifer sucked air through his teeth. "Sorry darling, I was in a rush you know, just escaped from prison and stuff. Would the next time be okay?" He said sweetly, honestly they spent so much time together over the years he should have food on hand for Adam.

"Would be but there won’t be a next time."

Lucifer raised a brow at him as he took a seat. "That's what you think. There will be a time after this and another after that."

Adam could only shake his head. "Why though? I don't exactly do much but sit here and look good."

Lucifer leaned back in his chair , grin never leaving. "We all have our part to play and the helpless damsel is yours."

That pissed Adam off. "Fuck you I'm not helpless. And you're not scary."

Lucifer scoffed and stood up getting closer to Adam. "Oh I’m not scary?! So you wouldn’t be scared if you saw these eyes at night?!"

Adam merely smirked. "Why would I be scared by piss yellow? I mean, I guess blood red could work, theoretically, but still." It was always fun getting under this guys skin.

Lucifer heard Charlie try to hold back a laugh. He shot her a look that made her giggles die down. "OH SO THE HORNS ARE SO NORMAL!?" He pointed to the horns protruding from his head.

Adam shrugged. "They look like you stuck two pipes on your head and then painted them red."

Lucifer felt his eye twitching, Adam was very pretty to look at but very sassy in the attitude department. "What about these?" He extended his six wings as far as he could to show them off.

Adam started laughing. "Pfft! Six poofy small wings? Scary? Are you shitting me?" He laughed a little more. "You look like you belong at a Comicon, you'll fit in with all the other short nerds."

"Excuse me!? What about these claws!" He flexed his claws close to Adams face.

The news reporter didn't flinch. "Yeah they look sharp, but they're dirty. Scariest thing there is the infection you could give someone."

Lucifer removed his hand, offended. "Hey! They are not that dirty." He started picking at his nails, sure enough some dirt was there. "You're mean for a news reporter."

Adam smiled. "Growing up on the streets hardens you like that."

Lucifer was taken aback by this, he never would have guessed that Adam had a difficult upbringing. "You grew up...?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "You heard me."

"Right." They say in silence for a long beat. "You know I also had a-"

"I don't care, man."

It was Lucifer's turn to shake his head "Wow okay, trying to have a moment."

Adam ignored him. "We have nothing in common man, you grew up in prison. My childhood may not have been perfect but it wasn't terrible." *

It made him rhinky about when his dad died. Adam didn't like to think about it. "I lived."

Lucifer hummed. "We have more in common than you think. The streets of Pentagram City are rough like prison. Just a matter of a building."

Adam blinked at him. "...... Are you a villain or a therapist?"

"I have time I can do both." He merely shrugged.

Adam groaned, he didn't have time for this. "Ugh, I wanna go home my shows on."

Lucifer looked around. What would it hurt? "I can get the tv for you if you want, we still have plenty of time."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Dad, I broke the tv last week." Charlie admitted nervously.

Lucifers jaw dropped. "Charlie! And you're just now telling me?"

Adam couldn't contain the laugh that found it's way out. "Oh, don't ever change Charlie, you're too funny."

"Thanks Adam!"

Lucifer scowled. "I'm funny!"

"Funny looking maybe."

Charlie giggled at that and earned a glare from her dad. "Sorry."

"Look here mister sassy pants." Lucifer went up and walked behind Adam and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Don't forget you're in my house, at my mercy."

Adam wasn't scared, by now he knew that Lucifer was all bark and no bite. "Oooou I'm so scared. I've been here, what? Maybe two hours? And the most you've done is touch my shoulder."

Lucifer, smirkes as he ran his hands up Adams neck to his hair, the soft brown locks tangled in his fingers before going back. He didn't miss the flinch. "Wait, are you ticklish?" Oh this was rich.

Adam scoffed. "No! Don't be dumb. Hey! Sto- HAHAHA!!"

"Awww." Charlie thought the moment was rather cute.

Lucifer chuckled. "Who's not funny now?"

"AHAHHA! NO- STILL NOT YOU! HAHAHHHHAH!" Adam laughed loudly, he was laughing so hard he was crying.

"Charlie get the camera!" Lucifer wanted to record this. Add to his collection.

"Charlie no! HAHA!"

"Charlie yes!"

Charlie grabbed the camera. "Got it!"

"STAHP!!! HAHAHA!! NO FAAAAIR HAHAHA!!"

Lucifer grinned even wider. "Evil is never fair dear." He moved to tickle Adams ribs.

The brunette howled with laughter. "NOO!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!" Adam tried to wiggle away from the devilish fingers tickling him. He did manage to free his right hand at some point.

Lucifer was elated, never has Adam been so much at his mercy. "HAHA! Now I’m-"

"Ah ha!" Adam reached back to touch one of Lucifer's wings.

Lucifer was stunned. "How’d you-!" He couldn't dwell on it long cause Adam's hand brushed his wing. "DON'T TOUCH-" He couldn't help the cooing sound that left his mouth. He was fucking mortified.

It was Adams turn to be stunned. "What. The fuck. Was that?"

Lucifer turned red, he was glad Adam couldn't see his face. "YOU HEARD NOTHING!!"

Adam giggled, not believing what he heard. "Awww, the big, evil, strong Devil, coos like a fucking bird!? HA!" Adam laughed a little more. "That's rich."

Lucifer would take any victory no matter how small. "Ha! You said I'm evil and strong I have that shit recorded!"

Adam thought if he rolled his eyes anymore they'd fall out if hus damn head. "Whatever man, do it again. These are actually real?" He made a move to touch them again, only for Lucifer to step out of reach.

"Yes they are real! Don't touch. Charlie be a dear and get the handcuffs the rope seems faulty."

"Don't be a baby! Can I get a bottle of water I think I cried all my fluids out." Adam asked her nicely and the girl couldn't help but comply.

"Sure Adam!"

Lucifer slapped himself on the forehead. "Charlie......" Sometimes she was a little too nice.

"Thank you, Charlie." Adam said sweetly.

Lucifer growled. "Handcuffs first!"

"You can’t keep kidnapping me if I die out of thirst right?"

"Meh."

Wow, real nice Adam thought bitterly. Charlie pranced over to them. "Here Adam! And here are the handcuffs dad!"

Adam drank the cool water as Lucifer waited impatiently so he could cuff his hands behind his back. When he was done Adam felt Lucifer click the cuffs on him, he swore it was just his imagination when he felt a clawed hand linger near his.

The sound of a timer beeping broke the moment. "OH! IT’S TIME! IT’S TIME SWEETIE!" Lucifer cheered, he was sure today was going to be the day he bested The General!

"You're such a nerd." Adam commented. Lucifer came over and placed a rag in his mouth. "Mmph!"

"Shhh." Lucifer ran a finger along Adams jawline and stopped at his chin. Adam's honey brown eyes narrowed and he spat out the rag, it hit Lucifer in the face. "Really?"

"Boo. Yes, really."

The General gasped when he saw Adam on the holographic screen. "Adam! Don't worry I'll save you from that evil monster."

Adam merely blinked, used to this. "Not in danger big guy." Lucifer and Michael bantered back and forth until Michael flew for where they were only for it to be empty. Adam braced for impact only to be confused when nothing happened. "Huh?"

Lucifer chuckled and pushed a button opening the wall. "You didn't think you were in the real observatory did you, Adam?"

Well this was a first. "Well shit."

Lucifer grinned he felt so triumphant. "OH SHIT INDEED! Get the death ray ready Charlie!"

"Death ray, readying!" She pushes a button, the death ray up in space got ready.

Lucifer projected himaelf from a hologram in the real observatory. "Over here old friend ~ In case you haven’t noticed, you fell right to my trap!"

"You can't trap justice! It's an idea, a belief, a-"

"Boring! Ugh, you're boring. And now you die! Right...... now!" Everyone blinked when nothing happened. "Charlie dear, shoot him."

"Yes dad just as soon as it's done charging."

Lucifer could not fucking believe this. "Charlie! I told you to have shit ready to go, I've told you countless times."

"Oh look your plan is failing." Adam mocked with a smirk.

"Quiet sassy!"

"Is that my contact in your phone? Sassy?"

"Maybe if you gave me your number."

"As if."

Lucifer sighed, well this was a bust. "This plan really shit the bed. Chao all!" He started to leave.

"Same time next Thursday?" Adam asked half sarcastic. Charlie came over to untie Adam.

"Titty sprinkles!"

Everyone paused. "Did he just say titty sprinkles?" Charlie asked.

Lucifer came back over. "What the fuck?"

Michael hit the walls but couldn't break them. "Fish crackers! I’M TRAPPED!"

"Oh lord. Did you hit your head while getting here or some shit? What kind of tricks are you playing?" Lucifer would nor fall for any hero tricks.

"You devilish maniac! Your dark powers finally paid off!"

"It has?" What the fuck was he playing at!?

Michael laid on the ground. "This dome- Is obviously covered with steel!"

"Yeah so?"

"Umm, dad?" Charlie pointed to the ray that was about to shoot.

"Steel.. It drains my powers..!"

"Your weakness… Is steel? Seriously?" This was hard to believe for Lucifer. The death ray went off and the real observatory blew up, the explosion shook the ground and Lucifer was hit by a flying object which turned out to be Michaels skeleton. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

Adam couldn't believe what he was seeing, The General couldn't be dead. "Oh my god....."

Charlie came over to stand by her dad. "You....... You did it dad."

Lucifer almost didn't register the words. "I did it..... HOLY SHIT I DID IT!! THE PENTAGRAM CITY IS MINE!!" He cheered and jumped for joy. After all these years!

Adam's jaw dropped. "What the fuck just happened......."

Lucifer turned to face Adam and smirked, he walked over to him feeling ten feet tall. "THAT my dear Adam," he grabbed his chin and tilted his head up to lock eyes with him. "Is victory." He grinned wider, for the first time Adam actually looked genuinely worried.

Okay I would be pretty scared if I saw this at night, Adam thought as Lucifer's demonic glowing red and yellow eyes bore into his own sending a shiver down his spine. "W-what are you gonna do now?"

"NOT SO COCKY NOW, ARE WE?! HAHA! Oh are you scared now? Don't worry, I won't hurt you Adam." His hold on Adams chin was firm, his grin never leaving. Adam flicked his gaze away, Lucifer's eyes were too intense. "Awww are you shaking?" Was he? Adam hadn't noticed, he was too afraid.

Good, maybe now Adam would take him and his villianly seriously. "Charlie, be a dear and take Adam home. We have much planning to do."

"Yes dad." Charlie untied Adam and blind folded him and guided him out. He was so numb he didn't fight her.

It didn't take long before he was dragged to the front of his apartment building. Charlie removed the blind fold. "Sorry, we’re just so happy, can you blame us?"

Adam looked at her, still numb. "I..... Can't."

Charlie stood there little awkwardly. "So uh, see ya. Or we won’t, and also we won’t be here to kidnap you this Thursday as I guess." Adam didn't answer her. "Oh and dad made this for you. For your help all these years. We saved it for our winning day." She gave him a rubber duck, it looked like him. Charlie got back in the car and left Adam all alone.

"Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me." As he looked at the rubber duck.

What fresh Hell awaited him and the rest of the city?

[narcissistshandler]

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚'𝗦 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗪𝗡, m!reader x michael kaiser (blue lock)

☆ warnings. top!male reader, dom!reader, insinuated that reader plays in bastard münchen. minors dni. ☆ a/n. just finished reading the last chapter of blue lock and kaiser makes me want to beat him until he cries. I wrote this for myself but decided to post it. (english is not my first language, feel free to correct me).

A growl sounded in the thick air between you, Kaiser making a futile attempt to stifle the sound as your cock went back inside him, hot and heavy. You laughed, your hands squeezing his bare hips tighter, his underwear and uniform shorts draped around his ankles, unlike him you had barely pulled your shorts down, just enough to get your cock out.

"B-bastard", Kaiser cursed, hands clenched into fists against the wall, voice already husky, first from yelling at Yoichi on the field, then from scolding you for a pass you made to the boy and now because of how hard you fucked him. "Damn- fuck you"

"Is it the worst you can think of?", you mocked, without stopping pushing against him, with each movement of your hips against his ass the wet sound echoing. "So I'm doing a good job"

And what a joyous job it was, having the ace of Bastard München looking like that: ears and neck flushed, spine curved so you have better access to his ass, red hole contracting around your dick and his massive ego slowly being replaced by nothing but lust for you.

He tried to mutter something back, losing any will to retort when your cock hit his prostate, hard. A cracking sound was wrenched from him, a surprised, half-mute grunt. He was close, you knew because Kaiser had finally shut up, only heaving breath and muffled sounds coming from him.

"You look so beautiful like that, baby, just a doll for me to fuck"

You ran your hands down his muscular back, pushing the fabric of his shirt up, and leaned down to kiss the expanse of skin in front of you. The movement shifted your cock inside him and his hole contracted incessantly as your thrusts grew deeper, knocking the air from his lungs. Now Kaiser was muttering something, whether it was cursing you or asking for more you didn't know ─── the words too jumbled to understand.

Taking his earlobe between teeths you ordered, "Cum for me"

His legs gave way, nearly taking him to the ground if it weren't for your grip, throat articulating a wounded moan while obeying your command and cum. His torso slid down, exhausted, eyes with that familiar angry gleam closed. You brought him closer to your chest, your cock still hard inside him and watched Kaiser's swollen red cock spurting semen onto the floor and onto the discarded uniform at his feet.

Noa would kill you two if he found out you were having sex on the sly, risking being seen by someone from the blue lock or get caught on the cameras, but Kaiser always needed to be put back in his place after a match, crown lying at his feet and cumming on your dick like the good slut he was and you were always eager to do it.

"Come on dear, I haven't come yet"

Unable to formulate any decent response, Kaiser just nodded, gold and blue locks of hair sticking to the sweat on his neck and started to move the hips.

[a-fluffy-dog24]

The best day

The day Dipper and Mabel were born.

1996 A young Michael and Catherine met for the first time and fell in love. He a high school language arts teacher and she is a in college to be a nurse.Two  year later they tied the knot and one year after that they decided to start a family.

9 months ago Catherine and Michael Pines were expecting twins, Mike has dark curly brown hair and brown eyes.Catherine has straight light brown hair and green eyes.They have been married for three years. They were having fraternal twins, a boy and a girl. They picked out names, got baby cribs clothes and put it in the nursery to bring home their babies .They prepared to start the next chapter of their lives to become parents Catherine is 33 years old she  mature  for her age she feels she is ready to be a mommy and Michael is 34 he can be immature for his age sometimes but he is excited to be a daddy.

Aug/31/1999

She went into labor they drove to the hospital 5:00 am she  sat down in her bed at the hospital the nurse gave her her pain medicines. 4 hours of labor then she pushed Mike held her hand then they're daughter was born at 8:05 am and the doctor unclipped her umbilical and checked her to make sure everything is normal the nurse takes and  puts her in a see through crib .She screamed and cried.

Because she wants her brother but he has the umbilical cord stuck, around his neck in the womb five minutes past of pushing at 8:10 the doctors take him out and quickly unclip the umbilical cord. Their son is born but theirs a problem he turned blue and the parents are looking concerned and worried that their son might not make it. "Why is he not breathing? HELP MY BABY " she cried panicking "help my son please"he held on to the nurse and begged her the doctors start to work to revive  him.Just then Sherman , his wife Faith Catherine's mother Lois and Stan, came in. "What's wrong with him?" Stan yelped in a panic.''He'll be ok" the nurse reassures them the doctor does some more compressions  the baby starts breathing,crying.He screams for his sister the doctor checks him to make sure everything is normal. Faith takes pictures of the babies. For her younger daughters to see their new niece and nephew.

Then the nurse takes the babies and waives them baby A is a little heavier than baby B by a pound or two and she cleans them up giving them their first bath. They only have a little bit of light brown, almost light red hair on their little heads. She gives them their first shots preventing things like polio,whooping cough,hepatitis B they don't like it very much.They stop screaming and crying when they feel the other one is their and they hold hand they can't see well  or hear well yet but they feel each other and that makes them happy.They don't know why they're where separated but their afraid  they'll never be with each other again.

The nurse put diapers on them, wrapped the girl in a pink blanket and the boy in a blue blanket and put the newborns in their mothers arms. "Oh their beautiful Catherine holds her very tiny babies and they sleep, the doctor told them they are perfectly healthy "what I've always wanted, a little girl and a little boy they have your nose" he said looking down at his babies. “And your eyes dear” she told him he kissed her.Michael wrote down the twins names on their birth certificates.Mabel, Ariel, Pines and Masson, Alex, Pines.

She holds and breastfeeds them for a while. They happily drink their mother's milk they eat their first meal. Michael asks Stan if he wants to hold them "would you like to hold the babies" he nods his head he picks the newborn and puts them in Stan's arms. He is 52 years old and looks at both of them and starts crying. He thinks about his brother disappearing and that he wishes that he could be here to meet them.

"Is he ok, why is he upset?" Catherine looked confused "well because he had a twin brother that passed away" Michael explained at least that what he was told.He and his siblings rarely saw their uncles growing up.So he didn’t really know them personally. "what are their names"Stan asked . "Well our girl's name is Mabel, Ariel, Pines" she told him "aww she's adorable"

"and our little boy's name is Masson ,Alex, Pines" he added. When he said that Stan was not paying attention, he was looking at the mark on the boy's forehead. "Hey look at that mark on his head there it kind of looks like some dots, or the big Dipper" he talks to babies quietly as they sleep in his arms. "You two are very cute and small, you got something special, you have a twin. It means you were born with a best friend. The negative is you didn't choose then.And you have to be around each other all the time sometimes you might drive each other crazy but.

They'll know more about you than anyone else and always be there for you to help you I know what it's like to have a twin sibling who you do everything with and grow up with ". The babies sleep peacefully through him talking "I was dumb ones now my twin brother is gone I'd do anything to bring him back, I'm sorry he not here he's would've love you two but maybe one day. Anyway what is that on your forehead look, like the Big Dipper. Dippy can you keep a promise for me to protect your sister I know I did with my brother and be careful ok don't go scaring your parents like that again ."

Dipper makes a "MMM" noise. "What about you sweetie can you promise, you're great uncle Stan to keep your brother out of trouble. I know my brother tried to keep me out of trouble ". Mabel yawned. "I love you two."He hugs them gently "StanFord, can I hold my grandchildren please?"Shermans begged "just one more minute you promise to be less boring" he stood up. " No and you know I don't like trying new things ....I know this is hard for you after losing Stanley but please let me hold them"

"be careful don't fight over my babies"Catherine warned"fine" Stan puts the newborn's in their grandpa Sherman's arm.He  is 60 years old he used to have dark brown hair but now it's gray and white. "I am so happy you guys are here you’re so precious I remember when you Stanford. And Stanley were born when I was 8 years old, mom and dad thought they were only going to have one baby  but you guy's surprised us". Faith smiled and got to hold her grand babies. She used to have blonde hair but now it's white. She holds them and plays with them for a little bit she tell the babies."Ok I can't wait for you guys visit us and we'll play together, I bake you cookies won't that be fun" they start to cry and scream.

Then Lois got a turn she has green eyes and red hair with a few gray streaks.She rocks them to calms them down. The babies stop crying.She talks to the twins "Oh they are really cute I can't wait to get them matching onesies Granny Lois is gonna spoil you two rotten". Catherine laughs. Then she put the babies back into her daughters arms.A few days later Stan and Sherman took the twins to meet their 85 year old great grandmother Carren.She lived a long life and she will pass away soon.She has a strong feeling of deja Vu holding her great grandchildren, and she tells Stan that she hopes he can one day bring Stanford back.

Catherine and Michael took good care of their babies. The babies don't do much the first 3 months they eat,poop,sleep and repeat but their parents enjoy this period.After the babies are bathed and changed Catherine sits on a rocking chair in the nursery and nurses them. Dipper cry and Mabel start crying as well she hold them close and comfort them she sings baby mine softly .Mabel close her eyes and sleeps Dipper sleeps too they love each other but they love their mommy a lot.And she loves them both and that she gets to make them feel better and Michael and Catherine can't wait to raise their children to smart loving people she puts them in to bed. Mike comes in to see if she needs any help. She said she's ok they kissed.

The babies have their own brown cribs in the small nursery the walls have purple wallpaper on them a small yellow rug on the floor.The twins are wearing matching purple onesies

She sometimes dresses them it matching clothes.Mabel sleep in her crib she sucks her thumb she has a Mobile with gold stars on it.Dipper sleep sucking his blue pacifier he is tucked in to his crib his mobile has gold pine trees on it .Michael and Catherine’s parents and his uncle are more than happy to babysit they are happy to have a helpful family.They takes lots of pictures they are starting to sit up at 3 months old and giggle they both know it won't be like this for long.

[sydsaint]

Baby Regal my boy!!!!!!!! <3

Summary: NXT!GM!Reader congratulates Charlie on winning the prestigious NXT Heritage Cup.

It's a busy afternoon in the arena for NXT. The show is about to go on the road, so a large batch of episodes are being recorded for NXT's weekly airing. You're sitting in your office going over the road schedule for the next month. You've still got to come up with about 10 more house show cards before you're done.

A sharp knock sounds at the door making you look up from your laptop. "Come in." You chirp, glancing back down at the screen briefly.

"YN, my dear! I hope that I'm not interrupting." William Regal comes striding through the door with his usual refined swagger.

"Mr. Regal!" You greet your mentor with a smile. "Not at all! Please, come in." You gesture to the empty chair siting in front of your desk. "What can I do for you?" You ask him.

Regal shuts the door behind him and makes his way over to your desk. You watch him take a seat in your empty chair and smile at him.

"Of course." You nod. "I'm just making up plans for the house shows that we've got coming up." You explain and turn your laptop screen so Regal can see it.

"Oh I was simply reminiscing about my youth with Shawn and a few other old timers when Mr. Michael's informed me that you were working." Regal explains. "So I figured that I'd come by and see how you were fairing, my dear."

Regal leans forward in his chair and retrieves his reading glasses from the front pocket of his jacket. "May I" He asks you.

"Sure. Go ahead." You nod and push your laptop closer to him.

You lean back in your seat and observe Regal as he looks over your schedule and notes. It makes you feel like a kid again, carefully waiting for Regal to critique your latest attempt at paperwork and other stuff.

"Well?" You eagerly prompt your mentor after a few minutes.

"An excellent job, as always my dear." Regal smiles at you and pushes the laptop back your way. "I doubt that I could have done a better job myself."

You smile to yourself and turn your laptop back around. "Thank you, sir. And how is your son? He's scheduled for a Heritage Cup match against Noam Dar tonight, isn't he?" You ask.

"He is, yes." Regal nods. "Charlie's quite excited about it as well." He informs you. "I can't thank you enough for giving him the chance to challenge for it. Makes me prouder than you know."

"Oh well, your son is an excellent competitor, Regal. It wasn't a hard decision picking him for Noam's next challenger." You shrug.

You and Regal chat for a bit longer and he suggests a few more match idea's before taking his leave.

"Well, it was a delight talking with you, as always, my dear." Regal rises from his seat and holds out a hand for you to shake. "I hope that I was able to help take some of the pressure off of you to come up with some exciting house show match-ups." He adds as you shake his hand firmly.

"You were a big help, Regal. Thank you." You smile at him. "Tell Dempsey good luck for me if you see him before his match." You add.

Regal nods again and heads out of your office. The door clicks shut with a small thud and you sit back down to get back to work.

Around an hour or so later you finally finish up getting the house-show schedule made and decide to take a small break. You head out of the office and down to the backstage are to see how things are fairing with the multiple tapings going on.

You get backstage and chat with a few of the staff about how things are moving along. And by the sounds of it, everything is going smoothly so far.

"That's great. And what match is up next on the schedule?" You ask the staff member that you've been chatting with.

"That'd be Dempsey and Dar for the Heritage Cup, ma'am." The staffer answers you. "They should both be headed down to the curtain any moment." He adds and nods to the curtain entrance on the other side of the room.

You nod just as Noam enters the room from the hallway with the rest of Meta Four at his side. Dar spots you and walks over with a confident smile.

"Boss! I wasn't expecting to see you down here. Everything alright?" Noam asks you.

"No trouble, Noam." You assure him with a smile. "I'm just checking up on the show before I get back to doing paperwork is all." You explain. "Good luck out there, by the way."

Noam nods, clutching his beloved trophy to his chest. "Thank you." He smiles at you.

Noam heads over to the curtain as his entrance music hits and you watch him disappear through the curtain. Seconds later, you hear the familiar sound of Regal giving someone one of his coveted pep-talks. You turn around and find him talking with Charlie as the pair come into the room.

"And you know that I'll be proud of you either way, son." Regal clasps a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"I know, dad." Charlie nods.

You smile at the pair and keep your distance out of respect for the father-son bonding moment. That is until Regal spots you loitering nearby and beckons you over to them.

"Regal." You nod at the older man with a friendly smile. "Good to see you again, old man." You joke with him. "And, Charlie! Good luck out there with Noam." You turn to Dempsey with an encouraging smile.

"Thank you." Charlie matches your smile. "I hope that here in about half an hour you'll be handing me that trophy." His grins widens a bit as he winks at you slyly.

A laugh escapes your lips and you shake your head. "We'll just have to see who the better man is, I guess." You tease him right back.

Charlie's entrance music hits and he walks off through the curtain to join Noam in the ring. Regal steps over to your side and the two of you watch the match from the monitors set up backstage.

"You sure as hell taught him well, Regal." You comment on Dempsey's prowess in the ring.

Regal chuckles and nods. "Yes, well, I try." He muses. "You seem quite fond of Charlie, yes? He's told me that you've been graciously helping him make his way into the Heritage Cup contender conversation." He turns toward you.

"Well I wouldn't make anything of it." You shrug and scratch at your arm sheephishly. "You're the one that taught me to never pick favorites, Regal." You remind him.

"I believe that I taught you to never make it obvious that you've got favorites." Regal corrects you. "There's quite the difference between the two, wouldn't you say, my dear?"

You hang your head to hide a sheepish smile and nod. "I suppose so. My mistake, Regal." You shift your weight from one foot to the other.

While you're busy looking at the floor in shame the match out in the ring comes to an end. Your head snaps up and toward the monitor. Out in the ring, Charlie stumbles to his feet as the referee reaches over to raise his hand.

"Well well well, would you look at that." Regal smiles to himself. "It seems like my boy had it in him afterall." He muses.

"It appears so." You agree. "Please excuse me, Regal. But I do believe that I have a trophy to present to a new champion. You're welcome to join me, of course." You offer.

Regal shakes his head and steps away from you. "Go ahead. Let my boy have his moment." He insists. "There will be plenty of time for celebration later."

You nod and head out to the ring. You pass Noam and the rest of Meta Four on your way down the ramp and offer Noam a sypathetic smile. Vic hands you the trophy since it was sitting on the commentary table during the match and you bring it into the ring where Charlie is patiently waiting.

"Congradulations to our new Heritage Cup winner! Charlie Dempsey!" You shake hands with Dempsey before handing over the trophy.

Charlie takes his hard-earned prize and soaks in the cheers from the crowd for a moment. You step out of the ring and let him have his moment before Charlie joins you back on the floor and the two of you head backstage.

"Congradulations on the win, Charlie!" You set a hand on the back of Dempsey's shoulder with a smile. "I knew that you had it in you." You grin at him.

"I couldn't thank you enough for putting faith in me and backing me up to get me here." Charlie replies. "This is as much of a win for you as it is for me." He insists.

You laugh and wave your hand dismissvly. "Oh, all I did was point out the talent that you already had." You assure him. "You did all the hard work, Charlie."

The two of you get backstage and you let Regal talk with his son. While the pair are chatting and sharing hugs you check in with the backstage crew one more time. After you've made sure that things are still running smoothly you intend to head back to your office. But Regal stops you before you leave the backstage area.

"Oh, well I'm sure that our lovely friend YN would be happy to join you in my absense." Regal turns toward after looking at Charlie.

"Pardon?" You come to a stop in front of the pair.

Regal nods to his son before smiling at you eagerly. "I was just reluctantly informing Charlie that I'm going to have to decline his offer for dinner and drinks after the show." He explains. "I've got a prior engagment that I'm afriad I can't miss. Although, I don't suppose you're busy after NXT finishes up taping, are you, YN?" He asks you. "I'd hate to leave Charlie to celebrate such a big win by himseslf."

"Right." You nod, catching onto what Regal's trying to swing here. "No, I'm not busy after the show at all." You turn toward Charlie. "If you'd like to meet me outside my office after the show then I'd love to grab dinner, Charlie." You smile at him.

"Sounds excellent." Charlie agrees. "I guess that I'll see you after the show then, YN. Take care." He matches your smile before walking off back to the locker rooms.

You wait until Charlie is gone before you turn back to your mentor.

"You don't happen to be trying to set me up with your son, are you, Regal?" You ask him with a playful smile.

"I haven't a clue what you're talking about, my dear." Regal smiles right back at you. "Do have fun at dinner, though." He winks before walking off as well.

[tarjapearce]

Hope ur having a great day mx. t! ♥️

Came here to drop off ANOTHER one for Soccer Family if u haven’t gotten sick of it 😭

BUT because I’m powering through essays with Michael Buble’s Christmas Album and from one tiktok I saw! Imagine the family having the equivalent of an Alexa, which is Lyla!! She’s Miguel’s smart assistant, but he has it linked to his home for his and his family’s convenience!!

One day Benjamin out of pure curiosity goes up asking “Hey Lyla, can reindeers fly?”

Miguel watching TV in the living room thinks nothing of it, Lyla is a Smart Assistant, programed her himself, surely she won’t—

Lyla in her little pixie form bends down to look at the poor boy. “Awww sorry Ben, caribous can’t fly-“

Miguel’s eyes widen. Oh no.

Ben shrieks. “SANTA CLAUS ISN’T REAL?!?!”

And after his lovely wife got mad at him for ruining Santa Claus for Gabi when she was younger, he was determined to keep the magic alive for little Benjamin.

He rises to his feet and point’s accusingly at the little pixie. “First of all, Lyla doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Lyla deadpans. Benjamin runs away crying.

Oh dear.

🎅🎅🎅

I could never get tired of Soccer Family 🥹❤️. It's my baby ❤️❤️❤️✨

And omg TTwTT Lyla is such a great addition!!! Will totally add her if that's okay with you 🫶🏻.

[wishdonttell]

Request for slasher Micheal Myers. Rz or og! A reader who's tall like 6'2 but is like an at home himbo husband who does freelance writing! He's a great cook but an even better baker, and loves his big slasher baby! Sorry if it's too specific!

Do you do emojis anonymous? If yes can I be 🪼? If not feel free to ignore it lol.

HiHI! This will be my first request so thank you! I have never seen emoji anonymous before so why not! And since I'm fine with doing multiple characters I'll do both! And The more specific the better it makes the ask feel more personal!

Michael Myers og!

He was a curious man, maybe more in a morbid way but serious nonetheless.

so when he broke into his victim's house; a man at a staggering 6'2 -with a decent build- he was excepting a fight.

Instead, he gets treated like a baby kitten left out in the rain.

Your question confused him and damn near almost worries him,

"Have you eaten dear" "Goodness these clothes are a mess, how about a bath and some fresh clothes" "Is that blood, are you okay?"

He never had such gentleness and care around him, not even when the friendliest nurse catered to him. It was almost like you were afraid of hurting him.

He didn't fight back against the bath or the free meal. but as he watched you bring out a freshly baked pie, he made it official this was his house.

Over the next months and so for a year past micheal find himself getting more and more serious about this male, soon he found himself wanting him and only him. not because of the free shelter, food, and care that was provided but because of that was all targeted towards him. Only him... and Michael loved that.

Michael finds himself getting confused and angry at these feelings but he couldn't get mad at you

not when your tall frame covers him at night- he doesn't even remember when yall started to sleep in the same bed.

Not when you cradled him to you after you found out what he truly is. telling him you don't care and he will always be yours.

He now finds himself with a silver ring on his finer look at ou cook watching how the silver shines aginst your skin. He tilts his head but feels nothing at the moment but comfort and silence. The voices in his head are quiet, he can think he can feel, and he feels nothing but love and obsession for you.

Michael Myers RZ!

It was way easier for you to get rz!Michael in the palm of your hand.

My boy said confront, food, and personal weighted blanket, oh yeah.

He stalked you thinking about how he was gonna get rid of you, your residence just happen to be his old house.

But when you heard of these murder sprees and saw a poor man outside every day in the same outfit, how could you not be worried for this giant man.

You foolishly invited him to stay safe from the boogeyman, not even questioning his mask.

You made a home-cooked meal in his old kitchen that was revamped and as much as he doesn't wanna admit it's... more lively

He looked at you as you hand him some of your oversized clothes that barely fit him but you didn't want him tracking dirt in the house.

He took a shower in what used to be a torn-up and broken-down bathroom in a comfy bigger bathroom. He was interested in what you did with all the rooms, including his room.

After eating a hearty dinner with you respectfully looking the other way so he can eat, you to him to the guest bedroom. Little did you know it was his room.

There he was looking at the room where he grew up, it changed but still had the same color palate just fresh.

"Whoever had this room before was a character but I loved the color palette so I kept it"

He decided right there after laying in the now king-sized bed that he look comedically large in, he was staying here. I mean this is technically his house still.

The more time you spent with Michael the more you realized the man in your house was the boogeyman, I mean you are a little slow but not dumb.

You ignored it though as long as he didn't track blood into your house, and no cops came harassing you. you didn't really care, plus you had a 6'5 big man to feed and love on when he allowed.

Michael slowly came to love this little domestic family feeling yall had, and one night when he came back with two rings he took your hand and put it on your finder and the other on his. The look of shock on your face was so beautiful to him.

There yall were the big bad boogeyman laying on his husband. He wouldn't want anything more than this. To be with his large himbo husband.

Thank you for reading and feel free to request and ask questions!

[daniwritessometimes]

I am determined to finish a story this year and work toward publishing!!

Anyway, here's the prologue:

Athena Osborne-Jones sat in the middle of the room as everyone milled about. Her black clothes and maternity corset hid her growing belly. No one was told officially yet other than her twin Alec and her dear friend Charles Seymore-Windham. Charlie.

She looked across the room where Charlie and Alec stood together chatting with one of Martin's brothers. He was the defacto heir until the baby was born. If it was a boy, that is. If she had a girl, the land and all titles went to Michael. She would still get a house in London, as would the child, boy or girl.

Charlie squinted around the room. He was mostly blind, but he could see enough to spot where he and Alec had left her. He touched Alec's arm and said something to him before slowly making his way toward where she sat.

"Do you need anything?" Charlie asked softly.

She shook her head.

"It's a little dark in this corner, Thee, I can't see getsures well."

"I don't need anything, Charlie." She took hold of his sleeve. "Just sit here a moment, please."

He took the chair she guided him toward and leaned closer. "Your brother-in-law is already talking about what he wants to change."

Athena sighed. "Of course he is. He never liked how I decorated the house. Nor that Martin allowed me to do so in the first place."

"I don't like him."

She snorted a soft laugh and then started sobbing again. "This is the worst thing that could have ever happened."

He reached out a hand to pat her arm, but missed and his hand touched her stomach.

She let out a soft sound and he pulled his hand away quickly. "Apologies, my lady," Charlie said softly.

"Don't do that," Athena scolded. She wiped at her eyes. "I need to be alone." She got up and walked quickly out of the room.

--

Charlie listened as her feet hurried out of the room and up the stairs. No doubt to her room. Would everyone still be here much longer? The immediate family had been here for the last several days and planned to stay for another week as Athena settled in. Alec promised to stay as long as Athena needed. He had brought with him all the legal documents they needed to go over.

He stood and found his way out the back door and into the garden. He slowly walked around the path that led to the little rose garden in the middle. The bench was warm from the summer day. Charlie closed his eyes and lifted his face toward the sun.

Alec found him a short time later. "What did you say to her?"

"I accidentally touched her stomach. But I don't think that's what sent her off."

Alec sighed and sat down beside Charlie. "What bullshit, eh?"

Charlie looked toward him. "How long do you think you'll stay?"

"Through the end of her confinement at least." Alec swiped up Charlie's cane. "Will you stay, too?"

"I don't think Matthews and Andrews will allow both of us to be gone for the next several months."

Alec took the cane and ballanced it on his finger. "I'm not going to be here the whole time. I'll return for all the trials and for meetings. It's just an hour into London from here. But I won't leave her completely alone."

Charlie stood and tried to swipe the cane out of his hand. He missed and stumbled into the rosebush, slicing up his face on the thorns.

"Fuck!" Alec exclaimed, pulling him up out of the plant. "I'm sorry, Chip. Let's go get you cleaned up."

--

"What in the world were you doing?" Athena asked sharply as she cleaned out the cuts on Charlie's face.

"Alec stole my cane," Charlie said.

"I was bored," Alec protested.

"Right into my rosebushes." Athena finished. "At least it was enough to send the extras home when you came in bleeding all over my carpet."

"I didn't bleed that much," Charlie pointed out.

"There's a fair number of scratches, though." This came from his father Horace as he walked back into the drawing room followed by Audrey, Sarah, and Wulfric.

"I figured." Charlie looked to Athena. "Are you done yet?"

"Yes, I am, you baby." She picked up her things and headed out of the room.

"Talking of babies..." Sarah trailed off.

Athena nodded. "Yes. In about four months."

She walked out of the room to deposit the bloody cloths and her bag of medical supplies in the hall. She turned to find her mother and aunt standing there waiting for her. She motioned for them to follow and she turned to Martin's study.

Sarah wrapped her arms around her daughter and held her close.

Folded into her mother's arms, Athena started sobbing again. How could she still be crying? How could there still be tears? She's been doing so for over a week.

When she finally pulled away, Audrey handed her a cup of tea. "You are entering a very important club."

"But I don't want to be. Not without him. Life isn't fair. And I can't help but think..." She trailed off.

"About Charlie," Audrey finished for her.

Athena sipped her tea. "Is this punishment, do you think?"

Sarah squeezed her hand. "Audrey and I advised you toward this. If it is wrong, it's our fault. But we all worked out that Martin was the better choice at the time."

"And I broke Charlie's heart. I would never have broken Martin's." She put her tea cup down and walked toward the desk. She trailed her fingers over the papers left exactly how Martin had left them. "What would have happened if I had rejected Martin's offer?"

"He would have died alone. He would have had to give everything to his brother sooner. Just pray the baby is a boy and that Michael doesn't take everything from under you before then."

[gamequeenanya]

You and your FNAF boyfriend (Security Guards!)

Doing one of these character things because they're fun! :3

Prompt: You discover he's ticklish.

Mike / Michael Afton:

Mike was just showing you how well he could shoot hoops in basketball. You run over to high-five him, and pull him into a hug. Unfortunately for him, your fingers decide to feel along the fabric of his jersey. You think it's a nice material.

You did not expect to hear him flinch and giggle.

Uh oh.

Mike blushes and goes to explain it away, but it's too late. You figured it out.

Tickle time! :D Michael bursts into laughter and flails as you tickle him everywhere!

Luckily it's a private session.

Michael's worst spots are his sides, hips, and ears. (Yes, just gently brush your fingers along them.)

Most ticklish to pokes.

Will take revenge immediately! This man will not have mercy until you beg and apologize!

Cuddles afterwards. With hot tea. :)

Jeremy:

It's actually he that tickles you first.

Did it to get your attention.

You squeal and give him a 'don't do that again!' look. Even though you secretly want him to do it again…

The next time you see him, it's revenge time! You sneak up behind him and pull him into a hold, tickling his ribs by tapping them rhythmically.

But wait, dear reader! Canon Jeremy is brave, and likes a challenge! Get ready for your doom! :D

Jeremy squirms, defiantly fighting your grasp until he gets loose. Then he pulls you into his arms and tickles you, giving you the same opportunity to get away.

You do, and then you look up at him knowingly. The two of you would have many tickle fights in the coming weeks!

Worst spots are his ribs, armpits, and face (Brush his nose or his cheeks with a feather)

Feathers or feather-light touches get him best.

Will want a movie afterwards and shares hot apple cider.

Fritz:

Yes, Fritz is his own person! Huzzah! :D

Fritz is surprisingly shy. The first time you tickled him, you did it to tease. He blushed and squirmed away immediately.

We'll say he's generous. Generous with sharing his food, and generous with tickles! If you tell him, you want a tickle fight, he will gladly give you what you ask for!

Laughs easily, and rather ticklish. But always afraid he'll hurt you… This is why he tends to lose tickle fights. Poor Fritz!

Whether you are dating him, or are just friends, he will always tickle you in the ways you prefer. :) Gentleman!

Worst spots are his armpits, tummy, and legs. Feet are also a big contender!

Equally sensitive to whatever tickle tool you want to use. Go crazy!

Soft cuddles afterwards, which usually ends in the two of you falling asleep.

William:

Are you sure you want this man to tickle you…? Really sure…?

Okay then… but be warned. This man is merciless.

It's probably safest to just let him tickle you first. He does end up tickling all of his employees eventually - controversial as that may be…

He will usually sneak up behind someone and playfully pinch their hips, reminding them to smile in a sultry tone.

After hearing your laugh, he wants more. And strange though it is, you end up wanting more too.

Tickle the Weem! :D Ahem. I mean William. Heh.

Wait, that's right! Nicknames. Be playful, and he may be more likely to tickle you.

Anyways, as I was saying: tickle him back! He lets out a low chuckle, not wanting to embarrass himself. But if you continue, you'll end up hearing high pitched squeals, and begging for mercy!

Whatever you do, don't interrogate him while tickling! He'll see it as a betrayal. It's a grave mistake (literally).

But seriously. Screams like a little girl. Have mercy on him! (Or don't. :3)

Worst spots: feet, back, scalp.

Most ticklish to: paintbrushes.

Aftercare? Nah. He's too embarrassed and just wants to recover in his office alone!

Phone Guy / Scott:

My sweet baby boy angel! <3333333333333333 Protect this man's smile 2kforever.

You know what they say: The more anxious someone is, the more ticklish they are! (It's science.) Poor darlin' can't catch a break.

Really get to know him as a friend, build trust, and show him you genuinely care. If you do this, his laughter will be all the more sweet. <3

It will definitely be a love language thing for him. Hold him close, cuddle him, and then tickle him. He will have so much fun, and you will as well! :)

Has the kind of laugh that can heal people. Seriously, it's something special.

Everyone at work knows how ticklish he is. (Again, poor darlin'!) If someone simply drags their finger along his back, or taps his shoulder, he will squeal!

But it's okay. He's not too worried, because he has you around to protect him. <3

With permission, he will tickle you back. And he will tease you about all the things that make you precious while he does so!

What goes around comes around! Tickle him back, and hear that precious laugh! (Compliment him too, but only in private, because he gets emotional.)

Worst spots: navel, knees, neck.

Most ticklish to: scrub brushes (only on "tough" spots)

Despite usually losing a tickle fight, he will offer comfort to you afterwards. Lay on top of him, and make him feel safe and loved too. <3

[crush-like-that]

Now that you mootified me, there will be so many asks from me😈 but I will send a few condensed ones to start off with

to begin:

TOP FIVE RIORDANVERSE BOOKS GO!!

TOP FIVE APOLLO CAMPERS EXCLUDING WILL GO!!

TOP FIVE NAOMI SOLACE AND WILL HEADCANONS GO!!

DID YOU LIKE TSATS, NOT READ, OR DISLIKED AND WHY??

and last- but CERTAINLY not least-

Naomi Solace headcanons for my brain rot🫶🏻

Thanks in advance for the brain rot, and I apologize if this got sent in twice; my tumblr crashed as I was submitting the first one😡

Yippie!!!

top five is ROUGH uhmmmmm

Titan's Curse and the Last Olympian are so up there. I also really love the Son of Neptune. I'm rereading all the books again for the millionth time but this time I'm annotating so I can actually pic favorites, but I'm still on SoN so I can't make up my mind on the rest yet 😭😭

top five EXCLUDING WILL?!?!???!?!?!? HE'S LITERALLY MY FAVORITE HE'S MY BBG I LOVE HIM WHAT. (can't) call me basic but I LOVE kayla and austin. Also Lee and Michael hold a verryyyyy special place in my heart. Can I say myself? KIDDING. uhm uhm uhm. I don't remember any others woops

UGH I love Naomi and Will!!!! 1. Will is the textbook definition of a Mama's Boy. and his mama KNOWS IT. She's so proud of him 2. Naomi isn't really the best at telling people what she's thinking or how she feels about them (i e "I'm proud of you" "you did really good!" "you have such talent for (said thing)") but she always ALWAYS makes a conscious effort to tell Will she loves him 3. Will may be a sixteen year old, 6'4'' grown child, but he will still curl up in his mama's arms. 4. Will didn't meet his grandparents til he was 12. He had been a year round camper since he was 10. When he turned 11, Naomi moved back in with her parents. After a bit, Will went to 'summers only' for a year 5. When Will can't sleep, he'll listen to some of Naomi's older songs, the ones she'd sing for him when she was still writing them.

Plus one... two. 6. Like alot of young kids, Will liked to hold strands of Naomi's hair when he was pretty young. She kept it long and curly, and Will loved the texture. (and this is why Will likes to play with Nico's hair) 7. Will was born with brown hair, the same light brown that Naomi has. When he was claimed by Apollo, most of his hair went blonde. (happens to every child of apollo)

I personally LOVE tsats. I really don't think it was that good of a book and, as always with Rick's books, there are many time inconsistencies, but I still love it with my whole heart. Nico was my favorite character as soon as he was introduced, blah blah blah saw myself in him, blah blah blah other traumatic stuff that made me love him more, now he's queer and i'm crying because he's like me blah blah blah, and BOOM! TSATS! It's very dear to me because I get to see these characters over come their problems and... it's jsut very emotional

NAOMI FOR THE WIN!!!!! @mediumgayitalian has some really good Naomi writings

She met Apollo at one of her first gigs at a local bar. She thought he was some fancy fella from a band. They 'dated' for a bit before he had to go. Naomi understood, a good musicians life was never stationary. She was nineteen. When she was found out she was pregnant, she ran away from home, absolutely terrified of what her good Christian parents would think if they found out she had gotten knocked up by some no good rocker.

It was just them for a while, Naomi and her little baby. She never acted like she was always alone. Always said "us" and "we". She was never alone, she had her baby. She had to bounce around from place to place, looking for working, looking for a place to stay. A month before Will was born, she finally found a stable job and apartment. Naomi loved Will more than she thought she ever could, seeing as she already loved him so much before she had even met him. They were never separated- hell, until he started kindergarten, Will went to work with Naomi. All her coworkers loved him, his gap-toothed smile and face that lit up like the sun. That's all Naomi ever needed. Her son. Her sun. And, of course, he became her muse. Every song she wrote was about him in some way. Something about the sunshine, or a baby's laugh, her strongest love, her will to live. Her music started to get popular. Naomi would pinch Will's cheeks, "all because of you," she'd face. Will would giggle in return. Sure, he didn't entirely understand what it all meant, but if Naomi could keep him happy, she would do anything. Will was about eight when Naomi started opening up to the possibility of touring. It was nerve-wracking. Her stability, which she had worked so hard for, would be gone. She'd be bouncing around again, but this time she'd have Will with her. She was more of a "we" than she thought before. After some convincing from her friends (friends? coworkers? other women her age with children she was able to speak to occasionally? it was all the same) Naomi decided that the tour would be good for Will. The money she could get off of it... She could give Will a good life, better than what she would be able to do on her own.

She hadn't expected Will to hate the tour life as much as he did. He had to spend more time alone or with a babysitter, away from his mama. She wasn't there to tuck him in every night. He was sleeping in hotels or on a bus, not in his bed that had always been right by hers. Then, right around Will's tenth birthday, Naomi started to notice some odd things. Odd things that put Will in danger. So they went to New York.... And Will went to camp. Naomi, now she won't admit it, but she cried for weeks after she dropped him off. She couldn't sleep without him there, now completely alone. Alone for the first time in her life. She missed her baby boy, his sunshine smiles, his laughter, his stubborn curls- Hell, she missed the fact that they couldn't be in separate rooms for more than five minutes before Will started to get nervous. She missed the way he'd brush through her hair whenever he was sitting next to her, how he always curled up to her side and tucked himself under her arms. So for the first time in ten years, she called her mama. Naomi was 30 when she moved back in with her parents. She couldn't write songs any more, every one came out sounding wrong, half complete. Things didn't make sense. So she worked on their farm, helped them keep up the chores and maintain the fields Most of her cousins worked for the family business too, so she saw them almost daily either out on the fields or while dropping off shipments. She could feel the way they judged her. She left with that baby years ago. Now she's here and her baby ain't. How must she look as mother? If only they knew, how hard it was for her. So, with Chiron's permission and direct instructions of care (how stupid is that, Naomi having to learn how to take care of HER baby from someone else) Naomi brought Will home for the school year. Her parents LOVED him. They adopted the roles of Gammie and Pawpaw quickly. "Oh look at that smile," they'd coo and pinch at Will cheeks. But Will didn't laugh the same. He was hesitant, shakier. Wore an ace bandage around his wrist. His arms and legs were littered with light scars. Hell, his hair was blonde now! Will, always her baby, didn't look like her baby. Naomi was scared for him. But Will was still a kid, he'd run and laugh with her cousins' kids, he made friends at school, he shared stories of what life was like during the rest of the year (even though Naomi had heard it all in letters), he Pawpaw out with the animals on the farm. Her baby was back. She wouldn't be able to keep him for long, and god knew how much different he was gonna be next time she saw him, but for now she had her baby.

woops sorry that was a long one