#THIS GOT OUT OF HAND BUT I LOVED THE PROMPT SO

[senipsenipsenip]

Eventually, the scrapbook ended. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon hours ago, and some nagging part of Stan's brain was telling him kids shouldn't be up this late. Unless they're breaking into a mini golf course. He jerked his head back, furrowing his brow. That was...oddly specific.

"Grunkle Stan?" a little voice - Mabel - questioned. He looked down at his knee to see where his great-niece was sitting, eyeing him with no small degree of concern. "Are you okay?"

He ruffled her hair. "'Course, Pumpkin. Just trying to shake some of those memories back in the right place, huh?" He gave an exaggerated shake of his head, smacking the side like he was trying to get water out his ears. "Got a straggler! Hup! There we go," he grinned, lowering his hand. "Good as new!"

Whatever he said must have been the right thing, because Mabel's eyes had lit up like he'd told her he was turning the Mystery Shack into a cotton candy emporium and Dipper had a sudden death grip on his other leg.

"Geez kid, you're clawing through my pants here," he grumbled, making no move to take away his nephew's hand. "Haven't you chewed your nails off by now? How're they so sharp?"

"You called me Pumpkin," Mabel whispered.

"You remembered I chew my nails," Dipper said in awe. Then he frowned. "Hey, how come Mabel gets a nice one and I get a gross one."

Stan shrugged. "'Cause she's nice, and you're gross."

"Ha! Zoom!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air before collapsing back into Stan's lap in a fit of giggles. Dipper rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he settled back against Stan's other side. Ford stayed perched on the arm of the chair, smiling fondly, but eyebrows still drawn together.

"What's the matter, Sixer?" Stan frowned as Ford grimaced at the nickname. "What?"

Ford waved off Stan's concern. "It's nothing. It's..." Ford sighed. "I'm sorry. It's not nothing. I just don't want to..." He pursed his lips.

"Don't leave us hanging." There was a shake in Stan's voice, and Mabel shifted closer to her Grunkle.

"I'm glad this has been helpful to you," Ford muttered. "But...you don't remember everything. Not really."

"Whaddya mean?" Stan asked. "I remember you, the kids, Soos. The freeloading jerk who steals my sandwiches." Stan glared at Waddles who simply oinked and started trying to eat his shoelace. Whatever. Free pass for jump starting his memories. He better not get used to it.

Dipper sat up. "Yeah, what do you mean, Great Uncle Ford?"

Ford frowned. "I just... Hm." He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before turning to Stan with some resolve.

"Stanley," he began slowly. "I hope you appreciate what I'm about to do for you."

"That's not terrifyingly ominous," Stan muttered, glancing around at the available exits.

"Do you remember my - " Ford cleared his throat. "My first kiss?"

Stan froze. "What?"

"My first kiss, do you remember it?"

"I was there?"

"Yes. Unfortunately a lot of people were."

Mabel squealed beside Stan. "Ooo! Romance memories! How old were you? Was it high school? Was it a high school romance? Was it star-crossed love between the nerd and the cheerleader?"

"Mabel, I think Grunkle Stan is supposed to figure that stuff out."

Mabel sat up and stared at Stan expectantly. "Come on Grunkle Stan! I need details!"

Stan shook his head, nose wrinkling like he'd smelled something rotting. "How should I know? Who asks their brother that sort of thing?"

"Precisely." Ford spoke with the same air of professionalism he adopted when explaining his theories, despite the alarming shade of red his face was becoming. "So far it seems that your memories are returning based on external stimuli, whether that be Mabel's scrapbook or our own prompting."

"So, wait, you're saying I won't get all my memories back?"

"No! No that's not what I'm saying," Ford held up his hands. "What I'm saying is we can't expect them all to come back at once. And at the risk of turning the Shack into the set of the Johnny Carson show, we'll keep asking you questions."

Stan frowned. "What if I don't wanna remember my brother smooching some babe?"

Ford turned redder. "You do."

"I do? Geez, I was a perv."

"In the meantime," Ford pressed. "It's important to take note of any stimulus you experience that makes you remember something. Even if it doesn't paint the whole picture for you, we can fill in the blanks. Or prompt you to remember more details."

Dipper grinned. "And then we get to learn more about the secrets you've been hiding, old man."

Stan lifted his hand to give Dipper a well-earned noogie, but paused before he could make contact. "Old man...did you...did you tell me to shut up one time and then punched me?"

Dipper balked. "What? No I - "

"YEAH no WAY that'd be CRAZY!" Mabel interjected a bit too loudly. "Anyway let's get back to that kissing story, huh?"

"Actually Mabel, I don't know if I want to hear about Great Uncle Ford kissing anybody either."

"Oh come on, Dipper. Are you jealous that The Author got someone to kiss him and you didn't?"

"What? No!"

"Some girls like nerds."

"Mabel I don't want to think about anybody in this room kissing anybody."

"You could learn from him Dipper! Figure out how to wield your nerdish charms. Soon you'll be like a kissing machine!"

"MABEL -"

The twins were silenced by a sudden gasp from Stan. His eyes were wide and unfocused, his jaw hanging open as if someone had knocked the wind out of him.

"Holy - " he choked out softly.

"Grunkle Stan?" Dipper sat up fully. "Are you okay?"

Stan didn't acknowledge him, eyes darting around minutely.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked softly. "Did you remember something?" Moisture had begun to gather in the corners of Stan's eyes, one of his hands covering his mouth as he began to shake.

"Great Uncle Ford?" Dipper turned to Ford, worry stitching his brows together. But Ford didn't look worried. If anything, he looked like he wanted to disappear through the floor. His face was an alarming shade of red, nearly identical to his sweater. Stan let out another choked sound.

"Are you..." Mabel trailed off. "Grunkle Stan are you laughing?" He was quaking now, his hand falling from his mouth to reveal a wide, open-mouthed smile. He began slapping the arm rest with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut and tears rolling down his cheeks. Dipper and Mabel shared a look. Sure, they'd seen Stan laugh before, but it was usually a loud guffawing thing. They'd never seen him like this. They shared a tentative smile. Either this was the hardest they'd seen him laugh, or he had really snapped.

Ford seemed to pick up on their worry. "He's fine," Ford offered. "He's just...remembering my first kiss." At Ford's words, Stan let out a loud cackle, burying his face in his hands.

Mabel cocked her head. "But what's so funny about -"

"You children must be exhausted," Ford blurted out, standing abruptly. "Come now, go wash up then head to bed!"

"Oh no you don't!" Stan shouted. He wiped tears from his eyes, still smiling. "You're not getting out of this one, pal!"

"Stanley, this conversation is hardly appropriate for children -"

"You brought it up!"

"And now I'm putting a stop to it."

Stan grabbed his head. "Ooooo ow," he gave an exaggerated groan. "My poor head. The mean man won't let me share my memories so they're all going away!"

"Stanley, please don't joke about that."

"I'm fading away - "

"Stanley."

Stan crossed his arms. "You know, you really know how to take the fun out of amnesia."

"Yeah! Come on Grunkle Ford," Mabel pouted. "You can't just leave us hanging!"

"Yeah!" Dipper joined in. "If it's a funny story I want to hear it."

Ford spluttered, pulling at the sleeves of his sweater and looking around for an exit.

"Come on, Sixer," Stan chimed in. His eyes had gone soft around the edges. "I think the kids deserve a funny story."

After today went unspoken. Ford met Stanley's gaze, already feeling his resolve melting before he even turned to his grand-niece and nephew's inquisitive smiles.

"Alright," Ford conceded. "But to maintain the integrity of the exercise, Stanley will be the one to tell it. Whatever he doesn't remember, I can fill in."

Stan rubbed his hands together. "Oh boy, this'll be good."

"I regret this already."

"It's alright Great Uncle Ford," Dipper patted his shoulder. "We have a whole summer's worth of stuff we get to make fun of Grunkle Stan for. This just gives us stuff to use against you now. Levels the playing field."

Ford frowned. "Is that meant to be comforting?"

Dipper shrugged.

"Alright you two, enough yapping." Stan grinned, leaning forward in his seat and spreading his hands out in front of him. It was the same way he started his campfire tales. Mabel and Dipper met each other's eyes and smiled.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Kiss-Bot..."

[oneforthemunny]

made with love, my valentine |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: you recruit eddie's help to make valentines for your class.

contains: fluff. just lovey dovey, lovesick fluff. early in their relationship, but super sweet <3

“There?” 

Eddie grunted as lightly as he could, one hand holding the bouts of frilly, lace paper hearts, the other balancing the loaded staple gun that he should definitely not be holding so carelessly on a ladder. 

“Yes, that looks perfect.” You gave a quick nod from below, holding his ladder steady. 

Eddie caught a glimpse of the tiny smile you gave when your eyes met, beaming from the inside out the way you always did. His knees felt weak, heart skipping with an adrenaline rush of adoration and heat that poured out of his chest, crept all the way up to his cheeks. He hoped you couldn’t see, that his hair hid his blushing grin. 

“Perfect.” You grinned, stepping back when Eddie stepped down, work boots wedged into the old, creaky ladder. “That looks amazing. So much better than I could’ve done.”  

“I don’t think that’s true,” Eddie shook his head, looking around the fully decorated classroom. You’d gone all out. You always did, trying to make the holidays the very best for your kids. Decorating to the nines, even with the little supplies and budget you had. You were crafty, that was for sure, a talent that always left Eddie in complete and utter awe. 

“You did a helluva job without me. This place looks sick.” Eddie’s finger jammed against a paper heart that was dangling from the ceiling. 

“Sick is good right? Sick in a good way?” You giggled, light and airy. Eddie knew his heart was stopping. 

“Yeah, o-oh yeah, sorry, no, I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like sick, bad. No, sick-sick means good. Sick in a good way, like a cool way, ya know? Or that’s what I meant. When I use it, it means good and cool, n-not ew sick as in ill-” Eddie’s cheeks flamed, stammering around fumbled words. The last thing he wanted was to insult you, he would never.

“I’m joking with you, Ed.” You grinned, bumping your hip playfully against his. “I’m glad you like it. It took me hours.” 

“Right, yeah,” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat. “Hours?” 

“Yeah, I mean, I had some of it from the years before, but most of the glue started coming undone, or they got all crinkled, so I had to start over.” You shook your head lightly. “My hands are completely torn apart. I have so many paper cuts.” You giggled, holding up your hands for Eddie to see. He had to fight the urge to hold them, intertwine your fingers in his like you had the weekend before. 

“Looks pretty gnarly, sweetheart.” Eddie sucked in a breath, pointer finger tracing over the cut on your knuckle, leaving you shuddering. “Should’ve asked me to help. Could’ve at least brought you some gloves to wear.” 

“It was fine. I did it during my planning period mostly.” Not a total lie. You had done most of it on your planning, and the other at home, until nearly two in the morning, when you were slumped over piles of shredded construction paper and glue sticks. 

“But, if you’re offering,” The sing-song in your voice had Eddie’s heart lurching with hope, trying to still himself, remain cool at your soft smile. “I do need to finish up making Valentine’s for the class.” 

You paused, giving him a tiny grin, lip tucked between your teeth. “And by finish, I mean I haven’t actually started.” Your lashes batted at him so sweetly, like you needed to sway him. Like he was on the fence of saying no, rejecting spending time with you? As if.   

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Eddie tried to play it cool, shoving his hands in his utility pants pockets. “Whatever you need me for. I’ve finished for the night, so y’know… ‘M all yours.” 

“Well,” You hummed, neck craning to look at the clock. “If you’re done, I thought maybe we could go back to my place?” Eddie was sure he was going to pass out, head reeling at your words. 

“I just think that would be a little more comfy just to not… be here, ya know? I can order us a pizza and we can knock these out.” You paused for a moment, really scanning Eddie’s features. “Maybe you could stay the night if you want? If it gets too late.” 

“Yes,” Eddie blurted before his mind could rationalize him stopping, eyes wide and words dripping with eagerness. “I mean, yeah, that would be… great.”  

“Great,” You repeated, your own heart thumping with excitement that spilled all the way to your face, lips curling in a wide grin. “I just, um, let me grab a few things, and- You remember where it is, right?” 

How could he forget? Eddie had been beyond nervous, palms too sweaty every time he came to pick you up. The handful of dates you’d been on were slowly becoming more and more frequent. 

“Yeah, I do.” Eddie’s lips twitched, swallowing down his excitement, maybe his nerves. “I just gotta put this up and lock up, and I’ll meet you there?” 

“See you in a few.” The words squeezed out of your chest, clutching your planner close to your body, slinging your purse over your shoulder. 

“Oh, is pepperoni okay with you?” You stopped, turning the lock to your classroom, your voice echoing down the dim lit hallway towards Eddie. Damn, he had moved fast with that ladder, practically sprinted down the hall. 

“Perfect for me.” Eddie called back, curls bobbing when he nodded. He’d nearly flung the ladder into the small hole of a janitor’s closet, snatching his lunch pail and keys before sprinting to the front, locking up and sailing down the cement stairs at the front of the school. 

Every second that went by was a second too long, tires flying over the snow dusted roads that led to your small home. The porch light was on when he arrived, bright and warm and welcoming. 

Eddie hesitated for a moment, whether he should ring the bell or just walk in. You knew he was coming, what would be the harm in going in? Still, it felt rude just to barge right in. Just to walk in felt arrogant, and what if you were naked? What if you were naked? Eddie’s cheeks began to heat, squirming at the thought. 

“Hey,” The door opened before Eddie could decide, leaving him standing there, wide eyed and blinking in your presence. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You giggled, leaning against the doorframe lightly. 

“I couldn’t remember if I left it unlocked or not, and then I saw you standing here, so…” You trailed off, a little unsure of what to say, what not to say. It was all still so new. 

“Yeah, s-sorry, I, uh, I was just trying to see if I-I left my wallet in the van.” Eddie stuttered out a lie, patting his pocket for emphasis, heart slightly dropping when he didn’t feel it there. Shit, did he leave it in the van? 

“No worries, um, come on in.” You stepped back, opening the door for him. 

Eddie immediately was wrapped in a warmth, a soft, sweet aroma that smelt entirely yours. He loved it, the few times he’d come over, every time it left him just as light and airy. 

“Thanks so much for coming to help me.” You hummed, watching Eddie carefully from your place in the door frame as he shed his winter jacket, hanging it on the hook. “I thought I was going to be up all night again trying to make these.” 

“Again?” Eddie lifted a brow, his tone teasing. “Sweetheart, you just call me whenever, alright? I’ll come over any time and help you out. Even if it’s the middle of the night.” 

Your giggle was music to his ears, heart bursting at your smile. “That’s sweet, thank you.” Your smile warmed over him, left him spinning with desire. “I just need to finish these. I have six done, I think?” 

Eddie followed you into your kitchen, stacks of construction paper laid out with scissors and hot glue guns, a list of names propped on the middle. “It was easier last year. I only had twenty-two kids, but with the zoning and all these new kids coming in…” You shook your head lightly, thirty-three kids listed on the attendance sheet. Eddie remembered Steve bitching about it at the beginning of the school year. He still wasn’t sure how either one of you handled it, but you both made it work, despite the district uncaring. 

“Yeah, I bet it’s… rough.” Eddie nodded, pulling out a seat. “You just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. I’m yours for the night.” 

Your smile spread, sitting next to Eddie. You showed him how to cut the hearts out, hot glue the paper lace on the edges, then press the other heart on the back to hide it. Eddie made them, setting them to the side so you could address them. 

The better part of two hours was spent in your kitchen, giggling and chatting over pizza and beer, wiping your greasy fingers off on napkins so it didn’t stain the cards. You both wanted them to be pristine, perfect. 

“So, uh, what-” Eddie cleared his throat gently, trying to shake the rattle in his voice from his nerves. “What are you doin’ on Valentine’s Day?” 

He felt your eyes on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze. “A-Any big plans?” Eddie cringed at the tweaking crack in his voice. He felt like he was in junior high again, asking Lisa Caltrelli out to the Sweethearts Dance. He hoped you wouldn’t reject him like she did. 

“No,” Your voice squeaked in response, creasing the paper between your fingers from your tight grip. You don’t know why you were so nervous, I mean, Eddie and you had been out before. It shouldn’t have shocked you so much when he asked you, but still, you were filled with an excited thrill. 

“No, I-I didn’t really plan to do anything. I mean, I would like to, but I just… I haven’t made plans.” You winced at your babbled answer, anything but cool. 

There was a pause, one that left your heart dropping with fear, your hands shook when you cut out the heart on red construction paper. “Um, well, I-I was just wondering if, if you’re not busy- shit, well, I know you just said you’re not busy. I just- I was wondering if you’d want to maybe go and get dinner?” Eddie’s wide eyes met yours, rounded with complete and utter fear and hope, like a deer in headlights. 

“With me?” His mouth was dry, heart beating so fast he could feel it in his eyeballs, sweat starting to bead at his hairline.

You tried to swallow down your own excitement, heart soaring with adrenaline, biting back a wide grin and a squeal. “Yeah,” You nodded, lips curling and eyes shining. “Yeah, I would. I would love to go out with you again.” 

“Really?” Eddie blinked, the words falling from his mouth before he could stop them. “I mean, really? Uh, great, that sounds… great.” Eddie ducked his own head down, gluing the paper lace to the heart, hoping his curls hid his pink cheeks and dimpled grin. 

“I was thinking we could go to Dino’s- Do you like Italian food?” 

“Yeah, I do. Love Dino’s.” You nodded. 

“Great. Um, my buddy, Jeff is the manager there now, and they do this Valentine’s Day special. It’s- It’s not anything crazy, they just put like candles and rose petals and shit on the tables, but he said he could get us in.” Eddie’s knee bounced, buzzing with excitement. 

“That sounds amazing,” You tapped the pen against the table, lips twitching with a smile you tried to hide. “It’s a date.” 

Eddie laughed, grinning so wide you thought your heart might burst. “I’ll pick you up at seven? Is that enough time?” 

“That’s perfect. I’ll have to clean up after the Valentine’s Day party, but-” 

“-I’ll help you.” Eddie nodded eagerly. “I’ll swing by after I get done in the cafeteria. I’ll help you clean up.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled sheepishly, ducking back to your craft. 

Eddie’s hands were clammy when he leaned in to kiss you later that night, at your doorway, under the glow of the street lamp outside. He was even more surprised when you wrapped your arms around him, pulled him closer and deeper into the kiss, one that left you both swooning and heads swirling with adoration. 

The next morning, Eddie was beyond pumped, eager for the day, knowing he had a date tonight. He nearly missed the small red heart that was waiting on his desk- a Valentine, from you. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie. I can’t wait to see you tonight.” 

[rafeysdeer]

dizzy (aka clumsy reader x protective jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: jason and his really clumsy girlfriend who is so used to her bruises from simply bumping around, that she forgets that it's not exactly the usual for other people to walk around with bruises. jason who isn't exactly happy to see his girlfriend hurt and makes it his new mission to take care of her.

a/n: that one i think it looks really cute, i'm also a really clumsy person, so it was pretty easy to come out with this one, him taking care of her was just so cute, i can sleep better knowing that they got eachother, anyways, english is not my first language, hope you guys enjoy it 💗

Jason was used to bruises and injuries, part of the job he chose, but he didn't expect that on a cold thursday night, he would find his girlfriend with a bandaged wrist and bruises all over her body, some that even looked old. He expected even less that she would give him a bright smile and run to hug him as if everything was normal, what he didn't know was that bruises and a bandaged wrist were just everyday nonsense for the clumsy girl.

"Honey, what happened to your wrist? Did someone hurt you?" he asks, carefully picking up her injured wrist to take a look, a worried expression on his face, his brow furrowed as he studies it. "Oh, it's nothing, I just got distracted and fell on it, it's okay."

And Jason looked at her face with a huge question mark on his face. "Did you fall on your own arm?" he said looking more and more confused. "Yeah? It was no big deal, really, I've had worse. Come in, i made hot chocolate" she said with the brightest smile on her face, as if she didn't have a fractured wrist.

He followed her into the apartment, the confusion never leaving his face as he slowly closed the door and followed her into the kitchen. Before he could even reach the cozy kitchen, he heard a soft groan of pain, followed by a muttered curse.

He rushes into the kitchen, afraid that she was hurt, even more hurt. And he was right, when he came inside, he found two colorful mugs of boiling chocolate with small marshmallows on the counter, some of the very same hot chocolate spilled around, and his girlfriend, with the hand that was not bandaged, under the cold running water of the sink, with a light burn on the torso of her hand.

"Love? What happened?" he asks, getting closer to her so he can see the injury more clearly. "Nothing serious, Jay, just a lil' burn, i'll be fine, just give me a minute to clean it up." she says, smiling and looking really calm for someone who just burned her own hand.

And as she moves to grab the rag to clean everything up, she bumps into the counter, holding onto it to steady herself, and it hits him, something finally clicks. All the times he watched her get hurt, bump into something or someone, get burned, fall awkwardly, it's too many to count.

She made a joke or two about being a distracted person and clumsy, but he didn't realize how much until now.

He smiled slightly as he watched his girlfriend try to balance the two mugs, knowing how this would end terribly, taking the mugs from her hand. "Honey, go sit on the couch, I'll take these." He noticed her frown, already starting to protest. "You don't have to do this, Jay, I want to help." But he was already interrupting her. "Sweetheart, please, you're going to help me by going sit on the couch." She huffed slightly but went anyway, sitting down and waiting for him to come right behind with the mugs, he put the mugs on the coffee table and went towards the bathroom to get the burn ointment.

And from that point, it just became a routine, her clumsily hurting herself, him taking care of her right after, and at some point it was like he had a sixth sense of when she was going to get hurt, being a vigilante also helped a lot with his reflexes.

So, they were walking down the street and she tripped? His arm was around her before her body could even dream of falling. They were cooking and she was cutting something? The knife was out of her hand before she could cut herself, and he told her to do something safer, like opening the dough.

And just like that, it became something of his, caring for her and looking out for her, knowing how to take care of her when she got hurt, and knowing how to stop her from getting hurt, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

[navybrat817]

Prompt for your Ficlet Friday, whenever you have time!

Steve Rogers + "grabbing the other’s hand in big crowds".

Thank you. 🩷

I love this, Stella! Hope you like it.

True North

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 400

Warnings: Established relationship, slight anxiety and insecurities, fluff

Steve hadn’t expected the sidewalk to get crowded so quickly for the parade, but he should’ve anticipated it. That was one of the reasons why you insisted on getting there early. You picked out a good spot and he brought enough chairs for the gang to camp out. But instead of hanging out, he insisted on getting you a necklace from one of the vendors a block away and now he had to find his way back to you.

He tried to smile when a few heads turned his way. He still wasn’t used to standing out in the crowd. Being small and invisible for the longest time, he was able to blend in easily. No one cared enough to look for him, save Bucky. With his new body, it wasn’t so easy for him to hide now. And having spent most of his life being the smallest person in the room, he still felt like a stranger in his own skin.

Craning his head, his heart raced when he realized he wasn’t even halfway down the block. He could’ve pushed people out of the way, but he couldn’t be rude. Swallowing, he tried not to feel overwhelmed at the feel of bodies pressing against him, their conversations too loud in his ears. A few whispered his name. Some snapped his photo, like they had the right.

He wished he would’ve asked you to go with him. It was silly. You didn’t need to look out for him. You didn’t-

“Steve.”

He blinked when you grabbed his hand. He had your touch memorized, the way your hand fit perfectly in his. “Hey,” he whispered, the sound of the crowd fading away.

“Thought you got lost there for a second,” you said lightly, but your eyes conveyed that you sensed how much he needed you.

“Almost did,” he said, letting you lead him through the crowd, refusing to let you go. “But it was worth it to find you the perfect necklace.”

“Oh, yeah?” you smiled over your shoulder. “You know, you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he smiled gently. “Thank you for finding me,” he said, his voice thick because he wasn’t just talking about today. And you knew that.

“You found me first, Steve,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’m just returning the favor.”

Later when he put the compass necklace around your neck, he’d explain that you were his true north. And if the two of you were ever separated for any reason, even in a crowd, he’d find his way back to you. Always.

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️

[hvnlygrl]

congrats on your celly love! i’m sorry i didn’t see it sooner bby 💞

This would be cute as a blurb or moodboard but;

Prompt 4 “Accidentally saying “I love you”” with best friend JJ would be adorable and funny 💞💞

love me on accident.

pairing — bestfriend!jj maybank x fem!reader

word count — 0.6k

synopsis — everyone knows that the two of you are in love, except you two. that is until an accidental love confession brings you together.

notes — i love this!! thank u for requesting babe!

moodboard based on this fic!

join my follower celebration — until feb. 3rd!

you were both drunk off your asses, clinging onto each other as you desperately tried to keep your balance. he held your waist, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. the two of you being physically close and relying on each other was far from a new sight to anyone.

this, however, was something much different. pope couldn’t help but notice the way the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes, almost as if you were both longing for something. he was curious, but knew better than to even mention something of the sort to either of you, especially in your drunken states.

you could smell the mix of different alcohols on jj’s breath, his eyes glossy and red and the beads of sweat that lined the top of his hairline. he grinned at you, and your heart fluttered at the sight. “how you feelin, my girl?”

“a little wobbly,” you huff through a laugh, smiling back at him. “how you feelin, blondie?”

he rolls his eyes at the nickname you gave him the first time the two of you met. “i told you stop calling me that, it messed up my street cred.”

“oh, your street cred, huh?” you giggle. “i didn’t realize you had such a name for yourself in the obx.”

he scoffs dramatically at that, hand flying up to clutch at his heart. “ouch!”

“sorry,” you give him a soft peck on the cheek, “you totally have street cred.”

“thanks, princess,” he can’t help the way his cheeks flush red at the kiss. “you have a good bit of cred yourself.”

you huff at him, “oh yea, i’m your best friend, of course i got street cred.”

he laughs, heart pounding in his chest as you sway with him to the music. “you’re welcome.”

you give him a soft punch to the chest, “cocky, aren't we?”

“please, don’t act like you don’t love me.”

“i don’t,” you tease, squinting your eyes at him as he frowns.

“well, i love you,” he grumbles, breath catching in his throat when he realizes the tone he said it in. jj prays you don’t notice it.

“wait,” your eyes go wide for a moment, “did you just-“

“um, no.” he immediately starts stuttering, “that’s not, i don’t, no, like, i meant-“

“i love you too,” you hold a finger up to his lips. “i was waiting for you to say something.”

“me? why couldn’t you say something?” he breathes out heavily, heart still beating a mile a minute.

“well, why didn’t you?” you shrug, “i didn’t know you felt like that.”

“of course i do, how could i not?” jj says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “you’re-you’re perfect, y/n. like seriously, the perfect girl.”

now you’re blushing, face tucked into the crook of his neck, “shut up.”

“no, i mean it,” he softly caresses your face, angling your chin so that you’re making eye contact with him. “you’re actually perfect.”

“so are you.” you can’t help but notice how close your face is to his, his breath tickling the tip of your nose.

jj inches toward you slowly until his nose is brushing against yours. you take the opportunity to tilt your head upward, letting your lips meet his gently. he freezes for a moment before kissing you back, one hand pulling your hips closer as the other rests against your jaw.

pope smacks john b to get his attention as he points at the two of you in your own little world in the kitchen of the chateau.

“holy shit,” john b whispers, jaw dropped in awe. “i never thought they would admit it.”

sarah rolls her eyes, “i did, pay up suckers.”

the pogues all huff, heads shaking as they pull cash from their pockets, grumbling soft cusses at their lost bet.

-> back to main masterlist

[pricesprincess]

intense and dirty #13 and location #19!

smut mdni

there was no character so i defaulted to john lmaooo | prompt list

john had your legs wrapped around his waist as you sat on his desk, a quick lunch visit to the base wasn't supposed to end up like this.

you had a few things to tend to after this and the time was trickling by as your husband kissed you like he hadn't done it in years even though just this morning you rode him like a cowgirl.

"baby." you whimpered when his lips grazed the column of your neck knowing each and every weak spot of yours, john's fingers slid up the bottom of your shirt to draw random patterns on your lower back.

the only sounds that filled the room were the rustling of your clothes and the soft thud of them landing into a heap on the floor. "no panties or bra?" john groaned, his thumbs brushing against your nipples causing you to thrust your chest out for him.

he chuckled and trailed his open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder. "you wanted this, trotting up here knickerless." you wanted to gasp and giggle at the words he used but couldn't, not when his thumb and forefinger were pinching both nipples gently.

john tweaked them knowing that pleasure was pooling in your belly like warm honey spreading from limb to limb, he was working you up while his other hand stroked and played with your pussy.

thick fingers spread you open to feel how wet you were.

"proper drenched for someone who ain't been touched." his words were thick with desire, he groaned low in his throat as john sunk two fingers inside you curling and scissoring bringing you to the edge.

he pumped them in and out, his thumb gliding against your clit with each thrust making you whine into his mouth as you clung to him. "louder love. don’t hold back on me. let me hear you." john urged.

you knew there could be people close by and they could hear you, even the wet squelching of him finger fucking you on his office desk if they were close enough to his door, a loud moan spilled from your lips when he hit your sweet spot making you gasp and jerk.

"there it is, innit?" john spoke with a smug tone with a grin to match as he watched you fall apart with just his fingers. you dropped your head back and gripped the edge feeling your orgasm rise closer.

his name was a chant you spoke softly as you arched your back thrusting your bare tits out for john to latch onto, his mouth warm and wet as he suckled on your nipple pushing you over the edge.

you cried out loudly fucking his fingers the best you could making him chuckle and slow down as he kissed your chest again making sure you'd feel his beard scratching against you later today.

john rested his forehead with yours and smiled as he kissed you, his eyes twinkling as you pulled away with a pout. "this visit was supposed to be lunch." you told him and got down to get dressed.

"i reckon I've just had it, darling." he shot back with a wink loving how flustered you got as you quickly got dressed hoping you didn't run into anyone on the way out.

[grandline-fics]

id like to request something - desperate kiss prompt with kid💗 love how you write him hihi

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Desperate Kiss

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Kid

WORDS: 822

A/N: Thank you for the request! I also didn't realise it's Kid's birthday until I was finishing this. I hope you like what I came up with for Kid and this particular prompt

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

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Kid was always so self-assured, confident to the point some would call it arrogance. He was a true pirate, he wasn’t going to just roll over and let someone else take something he wanted. He also wasn’t going to just give up on pursuing something he wanted because someone was there first. Life was too short in his eyes to live anything but how he wanted and he did it unapologetically. Kid thought he was unshakable and never considered himself capable of hesitation. Then you had to come along and throw a wrench into his perception and the worst part? You had no idea what you did to him and with every passing moment of being around you he felt like he was slowly losing grip on the situation and going mad. 

On the calm, dark waters the Victoria Punk idly sailed through Kid had settled into his watch for the night. Knowing how bored Kid could get you decided to join him at least for a little while. To pass the time you shared a drink and idly chatted, mostly reminiscing about past adventures and tavern brawls. Which led you to talk about the most recent trip on shore that had gotten out of hand. 

“That poor guy didn’t have a clue what was happening.” You laughed with a small shake of your head. “Did you really have to punch him with your metal hand though?”

“Why not? Fucker had it coming.”

“Maybe it was the drink I had that night but I can’t remember him really doing anything to warrant a fight until everyone got involved.” You tired to focus your memory but still nothing came to mind. “I mean one minute he was boasting about his own crew then you appeared.”

“You forgot the part he tried to recruit you to his crew.” Kid explained and you gasped, reaching out to grab Kid’s arm as the memory sharpened. 

“That’s right!” You laughed, how could you have forgotten? Then you grinned broadly. “Were you scared I’d be sweet-talked into switching crews?”

“Don’t be a moron.” Kid scoffed, doing nothing to move away from your touch. “I wasn’t letting some nobody think he could take what’s mine.” Your smile stretched at Kid’s choice of words. You were part of the crew long enough to interpret what he’d been trying to say. You were his crew, a member of his family and he was a very possessive person and violently protective of the things that were important to him. To think his motivations went beyond looking out for a member of his crew wasn’t even in your mind to consider. 

“That’s what makes you the best Captain there is.” You smiled before finishing your drink. With a sigh you got up from your seat, taking his empty mug into your hand as well. Kid watched you carefully, his mouth falling into a scowl as he realised you were turning in for the night and he still had a handful of hours to endure a boring watch. You spotted his sour expression and mistook it for the earlier topic of conversation. Playfully you rolled your eyes and leaned down, pressing a kiss against your Captain’s forehead. “Promise I’m not going anywhere Captain. Stop worrying okay?”

You smiled and as much as you wanted to head straight to bed, you instead began to head for the kitchen to leave off the mugs you’d both been drinking from. The last thing you wanted was a lecture from Killer about the deck being left in a mess needlessly. Behind you, you could have sworn you heard Kid mutter ‘fuck this’ and thought he was cutting the rest of his watch short because of of how quiet it was. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that so it wasn’t entirely unexpected. What was unexpected though was when you heard his rushed footsteps drawing closer. As you reached for the door to the galley you were sharply turned and your back pushed against the solid wooden door. “Kid, what the-”

Before you could finish your question, Kid’s hand secured itself against your hip and his lips pressed hungrily and eagerly against yours. Fuelled purely by the desperate need for you to see him as more than just a Captain and desperate for you to finally see how he felt about you he couldn’t help but act the way he had. Against your lips, his arrogant grin crept in when he heard you drop the mugs in your hands as your mind caught up to what was happening. As the clattered loudly against the floor, you grabbed his arm and the back of his neck, returning the kiss at last with equal need. Inwardly he berated himself for doubting himself and hesitating making a move, because had he known kissing you would be like this he would have done this a long time ago.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut

[dixonsbrat]

𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩 — send in any character from my masterlist + a prompt from one of the lists ( fluff , angst , smut ) for a blurb.

“good morning, sleeping beauty” // “don't worry, i'm staying right here.” with daryl dixon?

╰ . ୭ ┆ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐃 ˚. ᵎᵎ

your eyes flutter open, taking in the morning sun as it bleeds through the small cracks in the blinds. daryl's arms were wrapped firmly around your waist, keeping you close even in your sleeping state. his skin is warm and comforting against you and you nuzzle back even further.

daryl stirs behind you and you hear his sleepy southern drawl in your ear, “good morning, sleeping beauty.”

“sleeping beauty?” you hum as he begins placing light kisses along your neck and shoulder. “since when were you one for cheesy nicknames?”

he continues his trail of kisses along your skin, the scruff of his beard brushing against your cheek. “since i met you,” he mumbles, his arms pulling you closer to him.

you can't help but let out a small laugh, and turn around in his arms so that you're now facing him. his eyes were slightly puffy from sleep and his lips wet from kissing you. 

"is that so?" you look up at him through your lashes.

he chuckles, his eyes roaming your face, a small smile tugging at his lips. “yeah, that’s so,” he murmurs, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

there was nothing you loved more than being in daryl's arms. he always made you feel safe and protected, despite the whirlwind of chaos that loomed just outside your four walls. you could stay there forever, nestled into his skin, listening to his breathing, and he knew it too.

and yet, the hopefulness of doing so is quickly squashed when daryl shifts from you and sits on the edge of the bed. "where are you going?" you almost pout. 

daryl grunts as he stands up from the bed, the sheets falling from his chest as he ran a hand through his sleep tousled hair. he glances over his shoulder towards you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. you watch as he walks over to the bedroom door and twists the lock before returning to you.

“don’t worry, darlin’. m'stayin right here,” he murmurs as he slides back in the bed beside you, pulling you flush against him. “got no plans on leavin' this bed any time soon.”

[makeitmakesomesense]

Eyes Closed

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Day 11: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely anon with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 11th of January, which is 'prom'.

Fluff and gentle smut contained below.

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You were in bed. The darkness had crept into the room slowly, just like the silence. You turned on a light but it wasn’t enough for that kind of darkness. 

You thought about her. You tried not to worry.

.

‘I know, I know.’ Natasha called out as soon as she entered the room. Your mouth dropped as you stared in shock at her appearance. Blood stains coated her face and suit. You could barely see her skin beneath. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed with a nonplussed expression on her face. 

‘I feel like Carrie at the prom.’ She yawned as she unzipped her blood-soaked suit to her waist, revealing her toned stomach and sports bra. 

Natasha reached up to her hair then, ready to undo the end of her usual braid. She groaned as she remembered her more intricate hairstyle made up of several smaller braids.

‘Here, love.’ You slipped off the bed and walked to her. ‘Let me help.’

Natasha tilted forward, her head pressing tiredly against your shoulder as you worked to undo each braid. You tried not to hesitate as you worked around the hair matted with even more blood.

When you were done, you resisted the instinct to kiss her.

‘This might be your most disgusting post-mission look.’ You said wrinkling your nose at the pervasive smell of the dried blood. 

Natasha gave you a sarcastic thumbs up as she headed to the ensuite bathroom.

‘Guess you won’t be joining me.’ She commented dryly as the shower began to run. 

‘It’s so hard to say no.’ You grinned, grabbing your phone and keys and heading out of the room. ‘I’ll bring you back sustenance.’ You promised as you left. 

You returned soon enough, a peanut butter jelly sandwich in one hand. You’d cut the crusts off. Natasha didn’t actually care about the crusts. That wasn’t why you did it. 

You knocked the door as you entered. Natasha was lying on her stomach, sprawled out on the bed, wrapped in a fluffy white robe that she’d stolen a million years ago from a fancy hotel. It was tied loosely, already half off one shoulder. You could tell she was naked underneath. Her long red hair was damp, combed through and already curling at the ends. 

She turned at the sound of the door. Her attention immediately fell to the plate in your hands. 

She made a happy noise, muffled by her pillow as she rolled over onto her back. She shuffled to a seated position in the bed.

‘Give.’ She demanded teasingly as you held out the plate. 

Natasha noticed the missing crusts. Her delight was easy to see. She covered her face and gave a laugh. 

‘I’m special.’ She teased.

‘Yep.’ You agreed simply and sat down next to her, your arm automatically snaking around her waist. 

Natasha leaned against you like you were her support pole. She chewed slowly on the sandwich, her eyes closed with the first bite and she nodded happily to herself.

‘Good?’ You checked teasingly. 

Wordlessly, she gave you another thumbs up.

When the sandwich was done, Natasha fell backwards onto the bed. With great effort she moved back to her starfish position across the centre of it. 

You felt yourself finally approaching the moment. The time for acknowledge what she was obviously avoiding. 

The energy had been too light since she got back. It had been a bad mission. 

‘I’m so tired.’ Natasha mumbled finally against her pillow. 

You crawled over to lie beside her. You brushed her damp hair away from her face.

‘What kind of tired?’ You prompted gently. Natasha’s eyes screwed tight against your gaze.

‘A lot of people died.’ She murmured at last. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’

She opened her eyes again and met you with a heavy stare. You recognised the swirling regret and thought inexplicably about ocean waves crashing over rocks.

‘I should’ve-’ Her voice cracked. 

The rush of love was overwhelming and you leaned forward with the sudden, aching, urgent want to kiss her.

Natasha clung to your lips needily, her fingertips brushed your jaw. 

Her lips were cracked and the sensation brought you back to yourself. You cupped her cheek gently as you slowly encouraged Natasha back to a sitting position. 

‘You’re thirsty.’ You hummed out as Natasha’s lips continued to brush yours over and over again. 

Natasha’s eyes briefly squeezed shut again and then she nodded. 

You left the bed to retrieve her water bottle on the other side of the room. Natasha unscrewed the top and wordlessly drank it all.

Your stomach twisted as you watched her.

It could be a symptom, sometimes, of the bad missions. Not giving herself what she needed. Punishing herself for things that weren’t her fault. 

Natasha put the empty water bottle back on the nightstand. She turned back to you with the same hidden sadness in her eyes. Still, she gave you a small smile. 

You reached forward again with a surge of the same want. You left a trail of the softest kisses along on her neck. You could smell the familiar mix of her body wash and that scent that was only Natasha. 

Natasha hummed with pleasure. You felt her body rise and fall as her breathing evened out into slow, deep breaths. You tugged the white robe gently away from her shoulder, and then again, until you’d removed it all the way.

Natasha acquiesced readily to the direction of your touch. There was a relief almost in the way she was naked next to you. As if the pretence could leave her. 

She arched her back dramatically and you watched the muscles move and stretch. Then, she returned her body easily to its most comfortable bad posture. 

Natasha looked at you again and, this time, her gaze was easier and her smile was warm. 

A longing caught itself in your throat. 

Hesitantly, you touched the old scar that sat between her shoulders. Evidence of another mission survived, another risk taken.

You pressed a little harder and Natasha moaned in response to the pressure on the fatigued muscle just beneath the skin.

You adjusted yourself back on the bed, propping yourself up on your knees. You kissed the base of her neck as your thumbs began to rub concentric circles over her shoulder blades. 

Natasha murmured your name. Her back arched again in pleasure. 

‘You are brave.’ You told her, consumed with the constant need to take away her pain. 

You kissed her again, trailing a path down the curve of her spine.

‘You are strong.’ You murmured, your mouth grazing past another nameless scar. 

You felt the rise and fall of Natasha’s chest against your lips. The steady proof of her existence; all you could hope for.

‘You are trying your best.’

Your thumbs brushed lightly over the large, fresh bruise that sat under Natasha’s ribcage. Natasha stiffened.

You ran your hands soothingly back up to her shoulders and then around to cup her soft breasts.

‘And, you are always, always forgiven.’ 

You felt Natasha’s limbs loosen unthinkingly with your words and then, slowly, you felt her muscles tighten again with a different want. 

Natasha murmured your name again. And then again. You listened to the longing soaked into her voice. 

You squeezed her breasts slowly before moving around to stand in the space in front of her seated position on the bed.

You reached over and took a pillow from the bed. You held it to the back of Natasha’s head and gave her a teasing smile as you pressed her gently in encouragement to lie back. 

Natasha’s fingers caught the front of your shirt automatically as she let her torso go flat against the mattress. 

Her feet were still touching the ground. You watched her hip bones cant upwards towards the air in this new position.

You lost yourself briefly in the act of just looking down at her. At the softness and sharpness that made Natasha's body the only one that you craved. 

Natasha’s eyes were half-shuttered as she watched you too. Her smile was easy but you caught the swirling of a thousand emotions that sat beneath her stare.

It was enough for you to drop to your knees.

You spread her legs slowly and slid between them. The steady warmth of her was your favourite heat. 

Another anchor that promised you she was here. 

You stretched out your arms, letting your fingernails brush back and forth along her toned stomach. You didn’t waste any more time. 

Slowly you ran your flat tongue along her pussy. There was the familiar tang of her body wash  and the taste that could only be Natasha. 

Natasha groaned above you. You felt her stomach muscles tighten under your fingers and knew that she was already close. 

You moved on instinct, your eyes closed as you lost yourself in the sounds of her hums and sighs. The heat of her against your tongue spread through you. You let your tongue arc and flatten, finding the rhythms that caused her breathless moans. 

You felt her tensing. Felt the pleasure inside her become a desperate need. You used your hands to keep a steady pressure against the urgent movement of her hips. 

Natasha gave a strangled cry and in the midst of it you heard your name. You pressed again and again with your tongue. You felt her body wind itself tighter and tighter and then undo itself all at once. 

You tasted the dripping want and heard the soft pants of something achieved. 

You gave one last lick along her pussy. 

‘Good?’ You murmured, as you moved back to survey Natasha. 

Natasha didn’t move or speak. Slowly, as if with great effort, she gave you a silent thumbs up. 

You breathed a laugh, kissed her one more time and got to your feet.

You headed to the bathroom, grabbing a flannel and running it under the warm water. You returned and gently washed between her legs. 

Natasha’s eyes were fully shut now. 

You leaned forward and Natasha moaned in automatic pleasure at the sudden heat of your body against her bare one. 

‘Bed, love.’ You whispered, pulling the covers back and coaxing her gently. 

Natasha acquiesced and you watched her crawl beneath the warm covers. 

You left and got yourself ready for bed too. 

Just as you were about to slide under the covers, you heard the first snuffling noises of Natasha pressing herself comfortably into her pillow. 

A moment later, you clicked off the light on your nightstand.

.

You turned to face her. Natasha’s face was framed by her own messy curls. You thought about her. About the sadness that you could always see unless her eyes were closed. You tried not to worry.

Natasha snored suddenly and the sound was another steady proof that she was here. You closed your eyes and finally slept. 

.

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Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

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.

[blackynsupremacy]

HAIR LOVE

pairings: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

cooper koch x black!fem!reader

summary: your man helps to ease the tension during the first few days of receiving box braids.

contains: short blurb, based on this request, short blurb, fluff, reader is not getting knotless braids in this (sorry), established platonic/romantic relationships with either nick or cooper it’s up to the reader, swearing, hurt/comfort, cooper and nick being green flags.

a/n: sorry for the wait! motivation has been low, but this brought me joy a little. this was too cute.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy

imagine coming back home to nicholas or cooper after spending up to two and half hours in your stylist’s chair receiving the protective style you needed for your upcoming vacation together. there’s nothing like having a fresh set of braids in the color you desired that flowed effortlessly down your shoulders and back, but there was one issue that you had to deal with: you call it hell week. you knew it wasn’t a lie when they say beauty is pain. hell week is the first seven days after getting box braids where all you can feel is the tight tension within your scalp that literally hurts like hell if you move in the slightest bit. it’s hard to turn your head and it’s even more of a trial when you want to lay down. when with nicholas or cooper, you already gave them the run down on hell week, so once they heard that first groan of pain escape from your lips, they’d be ready to assist in the best way possible with the best solution possible.

a nightly oil massage.

when you first met, he saw you as royalty just simply by the way you carried yourself and what’s a royal without their crown? whether it’d be braids, silk presses, or your full natural, you took pride and care into your hair which is one of the many things he loved about you. of course being of a different culture, he’d ask questions that were genuinely out of curiosity and fascination.

“would you mind if i touch it?”

“how’d you get it styled like that?”

“how long does it take you to do it?”

“does it hurt?”

you’d answer all of his inquiries with accuracy and honesty, but what really got you going were the compliments.

“your hair smells so good. what do you use?”

“wow, you look—amazing!”

“is there anything that you can’t do?”

he also had to understand that with most processes, comes with the pain. you were grateful to him that he was so willing to help you after witnessing you struggle to face him due to the agonizing tension in your scalp. it pained him to see you in such a state. you both knew what you had to do to make this bearable.

“i wanna do it this time.” he said with the utmost sincerity.

“oh, no, love! you don’t have to. i got it, foreal.” you protest, but he insists.

“no, i want to. you deserve to have things done for you too, y’know.”

he’s seen you do this in prior occasions and each time the muscles of your arms and fingers would tense up after a while of massaging, causing you more pain. this act of service wasn’t a chore to him. he wanted to take a burden off your shoulders as you’ve done for him in the past. he wanted to do this because he cared. he cared for you. after you give in, you gather your warm towel, your braid oil, and your bonnet. you were then prompted by him to take a seat on his lap, so that he could proceed with your treatment.

he’d start by gently wrapping the towel around the majority of your scalp, careful not to move any part of your hair that may cause any further tension. his hands would apply the lightest pressure as the steam from the lukewarm towel would temporarily numb the skin. as you both wait for the towel to cool down, he’d ask about your appointment. you’d tell him that your stylist put on this wild movie that had such a star studded cast, but the plot was confusing as all get out and the ending still had you scratching your head, well you can scratch it after hell week is over. you both just reveled in each other’s company through laughter and your excitement of your upcoming adventure.

“you’re gonna look so beautiful with this hair on our trip next week—you always look beautiful, but it’s gonna hit different this time.”

you chuckle. “you always say it’s gonna hit different each time i get my hair done.”

“my point exactly!”

you also indulge in a bit of gossip. it was nostalgic like the setting of the hair salons you used to go to in your childhood.

“i’m telling you! she actually did that and now look what happened, but what do i know?” you’d comment after dishing out the word, feigning surrender as you lifted your hands.

“no fucking way!” he’d gasped, followed by a chuckle of disbelief.

once the towel had cooled down, he carefully uses the applicator of the hair oil to distribute it evenly along your aching scalp—not missing an inch. he gets the top, sides, back, and even the nape of your neck before pouring some on his palm and his fingers gingerly rub the oil into the skin with light, pressured circles.

“mmm—that feels good.” your eyes shut as you sigh in content, feeling a little tension dissipate from your head. he smiles, his heart warm at your satisfaction.

“i’m glad, sweetheart. i’m gonna move your head down a bit, so i can get this spot, ‘kay? let me know if anything hurts and i’ll stop.” with such a gentle coaxing voice, you couldn’t help, but to follow his lead as his digits continued their heavenly touch within your hair. this was nice. maybe he was onto something when he first offered. you didn’t have to worry about missing a spot, standing up for a while, and no pain in your limbs.

“how does that feel?” he inquired as the oil was being caressed in every single area of your head and your praises only kept him hyped up.

“mhm, that’s it.”

“a little to the left anddd—oh, yeah.”

“you are the realest for this.”

“what do you want to eat tonight? because whatever it is—it’s definitely my treat.”

his cheeks flutter with a hue of red and he’d humbly receive your praises with a soft “thank you” and continued his work until he concluded with one last area. after closing the top and placing the oil down, he lets you know of the next step of putting your favorite satin braid bonnet back on.

“you hold the front while i get your hair in.” you do so and with gentle hands, he picks up some hair at a time to place the strands within the soft fabric until each one was comfortably tucked underneath. you sigh in relief, thanking him profusely and entrapping him in a hug in which he instantly wraps his arms around you, your scent giving him instant butterflies.

“anytime, sweetheart—y’know how much i love your hair.”



[aziraphales-library]

Hi, i hope you don't get asked this too much, but could you recommend some established relationship fics? canon or au is fine, but not kid fic, if that's possible. Thank you.

Hey. We have an #established relationship tag you can check out. Here are some more to add to the collection...

Where the Cliffs Meet the Sky by springofviolets (M)

Crowley plans a meaningful, romantic anniversary trip to celebrate 1 year of being openly in a relationship with Aziraphale, but things keep going wrong! How will our hero cope? A South Downs Cottage origins story.

One Hundred Days by Lady of Prompts (G)

They should have discussed it more. Wasn’t that what humans did? Spend weeks and months talking about what sort of home they want, what sort of life, dreaming of what moving in together will be like. Making sure their dreams matched up, their expectations. They didn’t buy cottages �� in the middle of a forest, no less, half a mile from the nearest village – without considering questions of…of hobbies, and use of space and…and living arrangements. They certainly didn’t take such a step without…defining their relationships. -- Aziraphale only begins to consider the implications of *moving in together* after they've already done it.

Hozier Missed A Trick When He Called It 'Real People' Instead Of 'Joe Bloggs Snogs' by indieninja92 (E)

Months after Armageddoff, Crowley and Aziraphale enjoy a cosy night in. A brief moment of anxiety about a completely invented turn of events sends them off on a rambly, giggling conversation that asks, if they were human, what kinds of humans would they be? Very silly ones, it's safe to say.

Five Times They Weren't Very Sexy and One Time They Aced It by ZehWulf (E)

“Have you ever wondered what it feels like?” Crowley asks while contemplating the dregs at the bottom of his wine glass. He’s aiming for philosophical but fears the faint wheeze at the end of the question might have given him away. “Have I ever wondered what ‘what’ feels like,” Aziraphale asks finally. “Sex,” he says, much louder than intended or reasonable. They both wince.  “Oh, have you never…?” Aziraphale asks with polite disbelief. “You have?” Crowley demands. Look, when you're largely inexperienced sex-favorable asexual ineffables, it takes a bit of practice, a lot of communication, and some bull-headed persistence to get your sex life in commendable working order. Or, five times things got (hilariously) awkward during sex, and one time after they've got it mostly figured out. A companion fic to "Scratching That Itch." (Sex acts, such as they are, tagged per chapter in chapter notes!)

a moment's silence by viperinz (T)

Crowley rubs a hand down his face, sighing. “Then you know that you shouldn’t have done that.” “It was the only choice I had. If you got smitten—” Aziraphale swallows, feeling his back throb in pain. “You would have died right where you stood. I could not allow that.” Crowley’s mouth turns into a thin line, his fury radiating through the room. “So, what? It was better if it was you rather than me that took the hit?” “Yes!” Aziraphale exclaims, sitting up in bed. He winces as his back protests the movement, but he needs Crowley to understand. “You deserve better than what I was able to ever give you, and you need to help Muriel and the Messiah. If I ceased to exist, nothing would change the outcome of stopping all of this.” “No, you don’t get to say that.” Crowley walks up to the bed. “If you think I’ll ever stand to lose you again, then you’re bloody wrong. The outcome would be different because I wouldn’t have you, you daft thing.” After everything is said and done, Aziraphale has to learn to adjust to life on Earth after seven years of being in Heaven. Luckily, Crowley is there to help him heal, and to give him the love that he feels he's lost.

we shall have the world forever for our own by quitequaintrelle (M)

Your new beginning starts here! Lying wholly within the South Downs National Park, the village of Wood’s Bottom is your destination for an idyllic retirement. This quaint hamlet is a short five miles away from the seaside resort of Brighton, with its vibrant array of shopping, culture, and leisure attractions. Boasting stunning landscape views, entirely average weather conditions, welcoming neighbours, and intimate rural charm, Wood’s Bottom is your opportunity to live the exceptionally normal and relaxing lifestyle you’ve always dreamed of. Aziraphale and Crowley have finally found their forever home after successfully ensuring there is still a “forever” to share. Surely they will integrate perfectly well amongst their new neighbours. Surely.

- Mod D

[lulublack90]

Prompt 9 - First Anniversary

@wolfstarmicrofic January 9, word count 487

Sirius looked at the watch in the shop window. It was gold with a simple clock face, exactly like Remus would like. It was ludicrously expensive, and Remus was bound to complain. But if Sirius couldn’t spoil his boyfriend on their very first anniversary, then when could he?

Twenty minutes later he was walking out of the jewellery store with the watch in a little bag. He couldn’t wait to give it to Remus. 

Sirius had planned everything out. First, he was going to bring Remus breakfast in bed. Then he’d present him with the watch and probably stay in bed all day.

He got up early to get started, but Remus was already up and sipping a cup of tea while reading his book. 

“Happy anniversary,” Remus said to him, standing up and going to the oven where he was keeping their breakfast warm.

“You remembered?” Sirius asked, his voice a little hoarse as he stared in wonder at his boyfriend. Stuff like this wasn’t Remus’s thing and the fact that Remus had remembered, Sirius felt so much emotion that he wanted to throw himself into Remus’s arms.

“Of course I remembered,” Remus rolled his eyes and pointed at the huge puppy calendar on the wall where today's date had been circled in red pen and proudly proclaimed that it was their anniversary. Sirius jumped into his arms anyway. 

“I love you,” He said, kissing Remus. 

“I love you too,” Remus smiled back at him, carefully depositing him on a chair and getting the plates out of the oven with his oven gloves. 

“I got you something,” He said once Remus was tucking into his food. Remus paused, mouth full of eggs. He swallowed roughly. 

“I got you something, too,” He told Sirius, his hand disappearing into his pocket and taking out a small velvet pouch and passing it to Sirius. Sirius took it, staring at it, his eyes becoming a little misty. 

“Thank you,” He spoke softly. He jumped up and disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve Remus’s gift. He handed over the bag, and together they opened their gifts. 

“Oh, Sirius, it’s beautiful,” Remus gasped, fastening the watch around his wrist at the same time Sirius tipped the contents of the pouch into his hand. 

A watch fell out, and he laughed at how they’d had the same idea. His had a black leather strap and Mickey Mouse on the watch face, his arms acting as the minute and hour hands. He loved it. He immediately put it on and checked it was set to the right time. 

“It’s not much, but I saw it, and it made me think of you,” Remus tried to explain, but Sirius cut in.

“Remus, it’s perfect. I love it,” 

They ate their food as quickly as they could, and then Remus led him by his Mickey Mouse watch back into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

[e-dubbc11]

On My Way

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swear words, sexual reference(mostly PG-13), Billy’s violent side shows a little, fluffy ending.

Word Count: 1.8K-ish

Summary: Told from Billy’s POV. Billy has an assistant that’s a little too flirty and he already has someone very special to him. She threatens to ruin what he’s waited so long for.

A/N: I was perusing Tumblr the other day and found THIS post with the following dialogue prompt…”After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?"

“Next to my wife.”

I want to give credit to @myladyship This prompt basically punched me in the face, I got really excited when I found it so thank you! And thank you Katherine @k-marzolf for the basis of this fic, I appreciate you! I really like the way it turned out so I hope you like it too 💙

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It bothered your love at first; the way your assistant danced around the office in her tight little dresses and short skirts, it was painfully obvious she wanted you to notice her, to flirt back when she flirted with you, and she wanted you to forget all about…her.

But you had no idea how far your assistant, Isabel, would take it to get what she desired.

“THAT’S your assistant, Billy?!” Your love exclaimed as she handed you the cup of coffee she picked up for you on her way to work.

Your lips curled into a shy smile.

“Isabel’s not just MY assistant, baby. She’s all of ANVIL’S assistant but yeah she does do a lot of work for me.” You said.

“She gave me a dirty look when she let me in here, ya know.” She said, pressing her lips together in a straight line. “Has she dropped anything on the floor in front of you so she can bend over and pick it up?”

She was always making you laugh and you thought her jealousy was “cute” so you started to chuckle as you replied, “If she has, I didn’t notice. You’re the only one I wanna see bend over in front of me, sweet girl.”

You pulled her in close, tilted her chin up so she was looking into your eyes, and gave her a kiss so deep that you know she felt a tingle throughout her whole body, all the way down to her toes.

She had called you a “cocky little shit” and said you weren’t playing fair but you knew it was difficult for y/n to resist your charm.

“You’re such a cheater. You never play fair, Mr. Russo.” She purred into your ear and bit down on her lower lip to try and stop herself from smiling.

You loved her so much.

“I know I don’t play fair but I like giving you something to think about while you’re at work. Thank you for my coffee, beautiful. I love you.” You said with a warm smile.

She snaked her arms around the back of your neck, kissed you again and replied, “I love you too, handsome. Have a good day, Billy. I know you have a big job today so be extra careful.”

“Always. Now get outta here so I can slap you on the ass and watch you walk away.” You replied with a wink.

Looking over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed a bright red as she walked out of your office to head to work.

You couldn’t wait to see her later.

**********

The problem with crime bosses was there’s always another one in waiting if the current one falls and they were constantly making deals with shady politicians so it was just a vicious cycle...new boss, new deals.

Cut the head off of the snake and two more take its place.

And no matter how crooked those politicians were, they never got their hands dirty and if they did, they made sure they weren’t caught or they had someone else take the fall for it.

They had the distinct privilege of hiding behind their private security and leaving no paper trail. No matter how many mob bosses you took out, there was always another one to take their place but you always did the job you were hired to do…and you never missed.

But today, they had forced you to get your hands dirty. Whatever deals were made, had turned sour, and blood was spilled on the cold city streets tonight. Y/n would understand but you would have to call her and tell her you were going to be late.

Your assistant was privy to certain information, took notes during meetings, and even saw things she probably shouldn’t have but the NDA she signed when she took the job at ANVIL prevented her from talking about it…to anyone.

She was supposed to just be quiet and do her job. She understood that. But she thought you could be tempted, enticed into doing what she wanted, or blackmailed into cheating on the love of your life.

The sleeves of your crisp white dress shirt were rolled up to your elbows as you tried your best to remove the fresh bloodstains from your suit jacket. Your shirt had large spattering of blood across the front, it couldn’t be saved, but maybe the jacket could.

As you scrubbed the dried blood from your hands, you sensed someone was standing behind you, watching your every move, and waiting for the perfect moment to speak.

“This kind of thing happens more than I thought it would when I took the job, Mr. Russo.” She said in a sly silvery tone, leaning against the doorframe.

“It’s the nature of the beast…bound to happen from time to time. You’re here late.” You said as you turned around to face her while you dried your hands.

She was wearing a black pencil skirt and a black and white pinstripe dress shirt. You knew she had been trying to get your attention all day before you and your team left for the job but to no avail.

“I’ve seen and heard a lot of things that go on inside and outside of this office. I know how many people you’ve killed, Mr. Russo. Does your girlfriend know EVERYTHING about what you do for a living? Or does she need someone to tell her?” She asked, seductively rubbing the palm of her hand against her skirt.

An evil smile stretched across your lips as you quickly glanced up at the ceiling then back down to meet her gaze. You knew exactly what she was fishing for so you inched closer to her and angrily asked through clenched teeth, “What are you getting at, Isabel?”

She reached out and gently pulled your tie toward her, she let the fabric run through her long fingers and with a devilish grin, replied, “What I’m saying is…I want you Mr. Russo and if you fuck me nice and hard on your desk right there, I won’t have to tell her about all of the horrible things you do and have done.”

A low guttural growl escaped your lips as you hissed in her ear, “You think she doesn’t know? She knows all about what I do…what I have done and guess what, sweetheart? She loves me anyway and she is the ONLY one that has loved me when I didn’t think anyone ever could.”

Quickly, you grabbed and tightly squeezed her wrist, while her nervous breaths drifted against your skin, and you saw the angry defeated look on her face as she let go of your tie.

“What makes you think I can’t make you disappear too, just like all the others? Hmmm?” You hummed as a wide Cheshire cat smile stretched across your mouth. “Gut you like a fish and then dump your body like the piece of trash you are. They’d NEVER find you.”

She tried to pull her wrist free from your crushing grip but she wasn’t strong enough. You released her and calmly walked over to your desk so you could collect everything you needed for home.

The chilling words you uttered frightened her and you could sense the cold spike of fear radiating off of her body as you intensely watched her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath which is when you decided to remind her of one very important thing.

“Remember Isabel, that NDA you signed prevents you from telling ANYONE about what happens here. Also…you’re fired.” You said, glaring at her with your mouth tipped up in half a sly smile.

Storming off toward your office door, Isabel stopped, turned and asked sheepishly, “After everything you have done. How will you sleep at night?”

That was it.

That was the question you have waited your entire life to be able to answer with confidence.

“Next to my wife.” You replied with conviction and zero hesitation.

A look of surprise suddenly appeared on Isabel’s face. She obviously didn’t know. She never bothered to look at your wedding photo on the desk. A simple gold band dangled from a chain around your neck underneath your dress shirt, not visible to anyone because you didn’t want to wear it on your finger while you were out on a job. However, the tattoo band around your finger was always there and y/n had one to match.

Y/n, your wife, was everything you had ever wanted and needed. In your story, the boundaries between hero and villain were blurred but not to her. You were a hero in her eyes and weren’t cursed to go unloved forever.

Your curt bravado collided refreshingly with her soft strength to work through your pain and haunted memories. She helped to mend the parts of your life that had been fractured by betrayal and little by little, she will continue to heal the visible and the invisible wounds left by the people that were supposed to care for you the most.

Her smile and gentle touches relieved your everyday tension. She washes away all of your daily problems and they drift out to sea as she tenderly scratches your scalp and asks “How was your day, baby?”

No one had ever done that for you before so you weren’t going to let anyone try and take that away from you whether it’s through temptation or anything else.

“Get out and don’t come back. I’ll mail you your things.” You snapped.

She didn’t look back as she hurried out of your office.

**********

The room ceased of sound and movement as you quietly admired the photo on your desk. You smiled as you stared at y/n’s beautiful face, her body tucked perfectly under your arm like she was meant to be there, and her long fingers grazing your tie like Isabel had tried to do earlier.

You never wanted any woman touching your tie again unless it was being touched by your wife. She was the only woman that you would ever let murmur soft sounds to calm you when you had nightmares. She was the only one you opened up to, let see who you truly are, and you never wanted to do anything deliberately to fuck that up.

“Well hey there, handsome. You on your way home?” She said, answering on the first ring.

You paused briefly before answering her.

You thought about how it wasn’t that long ago, you didn’t think it was possible that anyone could love you, that you could allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to love someone else, or even smile just by hearing their voice.

And how you would do anything to protect that love, even if it means doing very bad things.

You were excited to see her and tell her all about what happened today.

“Yes, baby. I’m on my way.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads @jediwizardelf @thejanecampaign @folkloreofyennefer @milea @mysweetlittledesire

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[weebsinstash]

Someone sent me an ask about, "do I have any angsty ideas for yan Lucifer x Reader" and it's like honey I have THE angsty idea. It's basically an idea I've already shared except bumped up to 11 inspired by miscommunication and misunderstanding tropes like in all those manhwa and c-dramas I love

So I guess to just come right out and say it, because the attempt to answer the ask a little more naturally got way too long, my angstiest saddest idea for Lucifer x Reader, one of those really miserable, wallowing in sadness kind of prompts, is: you die, find out Lucifer is your soulmate, you reject him not wanting trouble and also he literally already has two wives and a daughter and it feels, weird intruding on his family unit, but you two eventually become closer and through some alcohol related shenanigans you get pregnant and Lucifer proposes you get married, but a few months before the wedding, Lilith shows back up, Lucifer is all over her, and instead of a scenario where Lucifer is managing to juggle both you and Lilith and Lilith is going out of her way to include you, the second she's back Lucifer prioritizes her almost exclusively, and it eventually leads to you beginning to become so stressed and hostile you wind up getting into arguments with both Lilith and Lucifer, a rift beginning to form between you as Lucifer becomes more upset there's tension between you and his wife, and bwcause of the constant extreme stress and potential other factors out of your control, you wind up losing the baby.... and then Lucifer accuses you of doing something to the pregnancy to get back at him, accuses you of trying to get his attention or manipulate him using the baby, and by the time he finds out the truth, you've already been grieving alone and have completely closed off your heart

I can just picture, how incredibly painful it would be, to not just have to be grieving, but for your partner to basically be saying, "well... haven't you been jealous of me giving this other person a little more of my time? Didn't you do this to get back at me?" when you are literally a victim. I feel like that would be the worst for me: knowing I'm innocent but that someone who is supposed to love and trust me even considered I was capable of such an awful thing. When people reveal they think things like that about you, it damages your relationship, because, why don't they know who you really are? Why would they think you're capable of doing something you're not? They think you're more cruel and inhumane than you actually are? What other things do they think you're capable of, then?

I can just picture.... you begin miscarrying and Lucifer isn't even around; he's off doing something with Lilith and Charlie and you're completely alone to get yourself to the hospital. You lose your baby alone. You discharge yourself against medical advice because you feel like you've truly lost everything. You're trudging back up to the Hotel and Lucifer just greets you like nothing has happened because he doesnt even know, and...

My brain just really keeps making it so dramatic and painful, like, a scenario where before Lilith came back Lucifer would come up to you and say things like "how are you two doing?" And putting his hands on your belly because he with his powers and Hell being his dominion can feel the life growing inside of you, and, after you miscarry he's walking up to you like normal and just, freezes. His mouth hangs open as his eyes drop from your face down to your tummy and then, slowly dragging back up to you

First words out of his mouth, "... what did you do?"

You're too hurt and horrified to even defend yourself as he starts completely breaking down, because for him, he isn't grieving the loss of your child WITH you: he's thinking you intentionally killed it and he feels genuinely betrayed by you. He's thinking not only has he lost his baby, but that it was something you intentionally caused. He just starts screaming all sorts of things and accusations on his grief, "why would you do this just to hurt me?!" "Out of everything you could have done to get my attention, our fucking BABY?!?" "I know you've been jealous of me and Lilith but this?! THIS?!?!" "We were supposed to be a family!!! How am I going to tell my daughter you killed her baby brother?!"

It twists into a fucked up scenario where Lucifer genuinely believes you caused your miscarriage but even through it all he still has this unbreakable demented love for you, and just... imagine after that first day with all of his grieving and screaming that you're essentially... locked away. You aren't allowed to leave the Hotel anymore. Lucifer doesn't take you out. He'll barely come to see you. You basically don't leave your room anymore. Charlie can't even face you; in a way she blames herself for trusting you and, allowing you to hurt her, her father, and... what would've been her baby brother, and this all of course means Vaggie no longer tolerates you as well. The only people in the Hotel who treat you with anything resembling kindness are people who genuinely don't give a fuck about the situation. Part of me wonders if Alastor would be your only confidant, as the only one who would have any skepticism. Since he's so attached to his own mother, I like the idea that seeing Reader be excited about motherhood drew him in more to you, made him more attached and protective, and while he can't exactly do anything to intervene, he gives you the occasional small kindness that keeps you from going completely insane

but you wanna know what the saddest part of this idea I've had that keeps coming back and scratching my brain. The idea that, after you miscarry, because of the extreme stress and trauma of the loss and how much everything hurts at that exact moment, while you are there at the hospital, you refuse and put off scheduling the... removal procedure, and you develop essentially an extreme trauma where you do not want the doctors to remove the deceased fetus because, in your mind, your baby was the only and last person who ever had and ever will truly ever love you, and you can't bear literally cannot bear the thought of your son leaving your body in any other way other than being born and being able to be held in your arms, but... that's not..... viable anymore.... so over time you just start going septic and start becoming seriously ill. You keep talking to your belly like your baby can still hear you. You think to yourself, that you and your baby can rot away together. You'll be together for as long as you can. They won't take your baby from you. They can't take him away. You won't let them

meanwhile Lucifer has been been clinging to Lilith in his grief, yet, she can't bring him the same comfort that she used to be able to; she realizes the power of the feelings and the connection Lucifer has with you, how it's unique and different from his love for her. His love for you and his pain is so deep that Lilith cannot even properly soothe his heart, and he'll even hide some moments from her, too, become a little closed off to her like anyone else.

Eventually the hospital calls, but they call Lucifer because for one you no longer are allowed to have a phone and aren't answering their attempts to contact you first but also, since Lucifer was the father, he's technically involved. Just. Just picture Lucifer in the depths of anger and grief getting this phonecall, "hey sir? Sir? Hospital here. We know this is a time of deep mourning but have you and your wife (he was secretly having them call you his wife long before you two were engaged) decided when to schedule her procedure? This is going to get extremely dangerous if we don't act soon"

Like really just picture you miscarried like WEEKS AGO and Lucifer has been keeping you basically in home imprisonment and you've become almost completely socially isolated and cut off from the rest of Hell and Lucifer is JUST NOW finding off from like some random fucking clerk, "abortion? Sir, no, what? She had a miscarriage, I was there??? She hemorrhaged??? She kept screaming if it came down to her and the baby that we need to save the baby??? Sir??? Have you... spoken to your wife???"

but Lucifer is still in a state of denial, because, once his brain truly processes what's happened, that's when he has to re-process all the trauma and anger and sadness and guilt all over again, so, here he is, not going to you, but to the hospital, and now he's looking at security footage of you being wheeled down the hallway screaming your baby's name.

Can you picture like, the recording has audio and at one point you start to call out for him and you stop, and Lucifer watches as you start praying to God and asking God for help instead, wailing about "there's no soul more innocent than an unborn baby, please don't take my baby, please don't punish him because of me". Lucifer sees that you truly didn't trust him when you needed him most. It hurts almost as bad as the loss of his son.

I can also picture, maybe in your panic and grief you say things like, "please, please save my baby, he's the only person who loves me" or "please, don't let MY son die" or just... lucifer can see IN the hospital that you were already having these extreme doubts he loved you even before he accused you of, you know, being a baby murderer

Lucifer having Extreme Mental Breakdown 2 Electric Boogaloo right there in the hospital as he finally fully processes that you organically miscarried and he like a fucking dumbass accused you of being responsible and proceeded to lock you away and treat you like shit. His brain wants to reject the reality immediately: no, no, he never would have hurt you like this if he'd known!! Why wouldn't you just tell him you miscarried?! Why would you let him believe you were a killer?!

It's way way wayyyyy too late for apologies but he goes to you to give you one anyway, but more importantly, he has to get you treated, and it's salt in his wounds as he has to basically force you to go to the hospital, I mean literally has to drug you or knock you out with magic because you're screaming and howling at him like an animal that "he can take everything else from you but you won't let him separate you from YOUR baby" and throwing things at him and even trying to stab him. Now Lucifer gets to feel like shit Part 3 because at the hospital here the doctors are, "dude she is so fucking sick right now??? nurse look at these charts she has lost so much weight just from a few weeks ago??? bro there is so much infection in her fucking blood she's gonna start seizing or some shit" and it's just, another thing to stab Lucifer in his heart, that on top pf the miscarriage he also had no idea you were sick, or worse, he noticed certain signs beginning to develop and he accused you of being on drugs or drunk and brushed it off because at that point he was so angry at you that, maybe a small part of him thought you deserved to be sick and feel shitty after "what you did"

here you are, coming to in the hospital, kind of in a way re-traumatized because, now you know that. Your pregnancy truly, truly is finally over, that your son truly is dead because now he's no longer even inside of you. Lucifer is, almost pathetic in his desperation to show you he knows the truth now and apologizes and, begs for your forgiveness. I mean, after all, you guys still have the wedding next month--

I could genuinely keep going and going to the point I could just write the fic itself but I wouldn't know where to end this idea outside of, Reader does in fact eventually heal but you're always going to be Lucifer's little wife-prisoner because, not o ly does he just love you so so so much but obviously now he's got uh Some Serious Fucking Trauma Now on top of all his other you know, crazy lil yandere habits, so OBVIOUSLY he has to make up to you all the pain he caused and make sure you're happy and healthy forever right? Because you two are still gonna get married and be together forever right? And.... since you two will be together forever... that means you'll eventually let him try to have another baby with you, right? And.... you'll agree, because he still loves you and you still love him.... right? He'll fix everything, he PROMISES he'll fix everything, but, you just, have to be willing to give him another chance....

[writingdevil]

STP Prompt

(This is a ContraCold request made by @saranorah228 -I love this duo and their fun dynamic.Enjoy!)

It was snowing,and Contrarian demanded to go outside.

They haven't experienced much snow in their lives, and Contrarian was determined to make the most of it.

While the others were more concerned about heating their home up and not getting barricaded in by snow,Contrarian dragged the first person who he knew would want and appreciate a snow day-Cold.

He giggled in glee as he gripped Cold's hand, marching outside,and feeling how the snow crunched beneath his feet.Cold hadn't said much, but Contrarian saw him take one look outside the window,and his eyes lit up,and then Contrarian was shoving him outside.

They walked out until they were far enough away from the house,and he stopped and spun around, feeling snowflakes stick to his feathers.

He giggled uncontrollably,catching a glimpse of Cold,who was busy staring straight up at the sky, and the snow dotted around his feathers in a way that kind of made him look like a weird yet pretty snow creature.Cool.

As dizziness took ahold of him,he stumbled over to the other,leaning against his side as he asked,"Do you feel at home,buddy?"

Cold just made a questioning noise,putting his arm out and watching the snow hit his feathers,and Contrarian noticed how they puffed up at the contact.

"How do you mean?"Cold finally asked,and Contrarian managed to shove the dizziness away to stand up properly and say,"Well,you're Cold-you're basically in your element here!"

Cold smiled softly at him,and that did something funny to Contrarian's stomach,so he switched his attention to the snow.

He started by stomping around,kicking his feet up and giggling as the snow was thrown about across the field."This stuff is weird!"Contrarian exclaimed over his shoulder."It kinda looks fluffy,don't you think?"

"Skeptic said that he thinks it might actually just be frozen water from the sky,"Cold said,and then Contrarian was stunned as Cold stuck his tongue out to taste the snow.

A blush suddenly exploded across Contrarian's face,and he forced himself to look away,crouching down to touch the snow with his hands.His body shook,but he wasn't sure if it was from the bitter weather,so he just kept focusing on the weird feeling of the snow-light yet solid enough to bunch up in his palm.

He held a small pile of it,then smiled as he let it drift down through the gaps in his fingers.Then-he got an idea.

He used every fibre of his being to stop any laughter from coming out,glancing over his shoulder to see Cold with his arm out,inspecting the shaking of his fingers and they were starting to look paler than before.

He was distracted.Good.

He worked quickly,spreading his wings out to block Cold from seeing what he was doing.He slowly stood up when he was finished,glancing over his shoulder to see Cold about to crouch and touch the snow like he had.

Before he could though,Contrarian shouted, "Hey, Cold!"and the biggest grin spread across Contrarian's face,as his arm shot out,and he clocked Cold right in the face.

There was a single second,where pure shock took over the bird's usually blank face,before Contrarian burst out laughing.

He clutched his stomach as laughter practically erupted out of him,and he ducked his head to avoid any heated glares that Cold may send him.But come on!How many times can someone say that they've genuinely caught Cold that off guard before?It was unheard of!

Contrarian was only beginning to feel a sense of pride at being one of the few birds to accomplish that,when he suddenly felt something hit his head.

He snorted,expecting this,and he lifted his head, only for another snowball to hit him in the face.He stumbled backwards,as one,two,three-fucking hell Cold was good at this-four snowballs hit him in the face.

His face was beginning to go numb,so he quickly waved his arms out and yelled,"Okay,I'm sorry,I yield!I yield!"

There was a pause,and Contrarian dared to open his eyes,finding Cold staring at him in soft amusement,a snowball resting in the palm of his hand.They held each other's gazes for a few seconds,before Cold silently lowered his arm, looking down at the snowball instead.Contrarian found himself a little disappointed that the moment ended so quickly.

But then he noticed the way Cold was eying up the snow in his hand,and he couldn't stop himself from chanting,"Do it!Do it!Do it!"So without any further motivation,Cold bit into the snowball.

Contrarian rushed over to him,cackling as he watch Cold's face for any more changes.His hands reached out to softly grip Cold's arm without even thinking about it,and he watched as Cold furrowed his brows in deep thought-before his expression completely fell with disappointment.

"It just becomes water in your mouth,"Cold said with slumped shoulders.Contrarian's smile also fell as he went,"Aw,really?"and then picked up some snow for him to try himself.

He attempted to chew it,but just as Cold said-it just dissolved on his tongue.

"Well that's boring,"Contrarian said,letting water dribble out of his mouth,and making Cold chuckle softly.

He liked that sound.He liked being the one to make Cold sound like that.

Contrarian rubbed his mouth clean,and the two of them just stood there,taking a moment to watch the snow fall around them.

It was really pretty.Contrarian never thought that something so pretty and so fun could fall from the sky.His mind was already going through all the pranks he could pull on the others,and then some were just fun things to do in the snow.Like-what other things could they make with the snow?What did the snow do to other things like trees and lakes and-

Contrarian didn't know when it happened,but at some point,his attention had drifted from the snow, and onto Cold.

He had a peaceful,almost soft expression on his face,and he kept his gaze up at the sky,his shiny feathers sticking out amongst all the white snow.

-and all he knew was that he wanted to make sure that Cold enjoyed every minute of this.

His face heated up,and his feathers puffed up,and Contrarian had no idea what this fluttering feeling in his stomach was,but it was so different than anything else he's felt before.He wants to ignore it, but he had a feeling that ignoring it meant ignoring Cold,and Contrarian could never bring himself to do that.

He sighed in frustration at himself,before he noticed what happened when he did that.

"Hey look!"Contrarian exclaimed in excitement, hardly able to contain his joy as Cold turned to look at him.Contrarian bunched his hands into fists and squeezed as he revealed,"Look!I'm just like you now!"and then he let a big exhale out,and grinned at how he could now see his own breath.

Cold's eyes widened slightly,with snow still clinging to the feathers on his face,and he let a breath of his own out,his signature frost floating out around them.

Contrarian began to bounce on the spot,and then his heart pounded at the way Cold smiled down at him,as if amused by his reaction.

But then Contrarian froze in shock as Cold leaned in closer to whisper,"That is interesting."

The dark glint in his eyes told Contrarian that Cold may not be talking about the snow anymore.

[fortytworedvines]

How about 24 for the drabble prompts?

Did I do this instead of work? Nooooooooo.... Did this get away from me? yes...

Drabble list - send me a number!

24 - "You're not supposed to be up and about” 

Audrey knew she needed to be getting up. There was breakfast to sort for a hungry household.

She just couldn't seem to move. Her arms and legs were heavy. Her head was fuzzy. The slightest movement made her dizzy. She made one more futile attempt to get up, then gave in. Closed her eyes. Let herself slip back into sleep.

Siegfried wandered into the kitchen. A frazzled Helen was at the stove, trying not to burn porridge. James and Tristan were making toast and tea.

"Where's Mrs Hall?" he asked.

"Haven't seen her," Helen said. "Don't you know?"

Siegfried frowned. She was always here. Always. Even in the depths of her despair over Edward, she had been up in the morning and making breakfast.

He turned on his heel and made for the stairs.

A rap at the door brought her out of a weird, twisting maze of a dream. "Mrs Hall? Mrs Hall, are you in there?"

She couldn't quite form the words to reply. A weird sort of groaning grunt came out instead.

There was a pause. Then his voice again, worried. "Mrs Hall, I'm going to come in."

She was dimly aware of the door opening. She forced her eyes open to see him crouching beside her. A careful hand touched her forehead. It was blissfully cool.

"You're burning up," he said, worried.

"I – don't feel good," she managed.

"I can see that." He stroked her hair. "I'm going to call the doctor."

Seeing her lying there, so still, so passive, scared him horribly. It was clear that she could barely keep her eyes open and her temperature was soaring.

"I'll be back in a minute," he promised.

He left her door open a crack, just in case she called out, then hurried downstairs. He called the doctor first, extracted a promise to come out as soon as he could, then headed for the kitchen.

The family was sat around the table and little Jimmy had porridge all over his face.

"Mrs Hall is ill," he said abruptly. "I've called the doctor. I'll take her up a cup of tea and sit with her until he arrives. James, can you handle everything?"

"I'll help," Tristan put in. "And send Mrs H our love."

James nodded. "We'll manage, Siegfried."

He poured a cup of tea, buttered a slice of toast and put it all on a tray to carry upstairs. He didn't think she'd manage food, but just in case.

He slipped back into her room and closed the door.

She was lying still, sweat beading on her forehead, eyes closed.

"Mrs Hall?" he said quietly. There was no response. "Audrey?"

A murmur.

He crouched next to her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I've brought you some tea. Can you sit up?"

Audrey blinked. He looked so worried. "Need – help," she said, through dry lips.

He slipped his arm around her and helped her upright, propping her pillows behind her. Then he let go to get her tea and she felt like she was going to fall over.

"Mr Farnon," she whispered. Immediately he was next to her again, his arm around her.

"I've got you. Here, have some tea."

Her arms felt like useless dead weight, but he lifted the cup to her lips, tipped it carefully so she could sip.

She managed two sips then lay back against his arms, exhausted with the effort of being upright.

"Do you want to lie down again?" he asked.

"Please," she murmured.

Carefully he lowered her, tucked her sheets back around her.

His hand pressed against her forehead again. "'s nice."

A smile flickered over his worried face and his hand remained in place. "Hush now. Go back to sleep. The doctor is on his way."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "Thank you."

He left his hand on her forehead as her eyes closed, as she slept. He hated seeing her like this, his indomitable housekeeper, completely floored.

Crouching next to the bed became uncomfortable. Tentatively, he sat on the bed next to her.

There was a knock at the door and a head poked round.

"Siegfried, I've brought you some breakfast," Helen said. She put a cup of tea and a plate of fresh toast next to him and stared at Mrs Hall worriedly. "How is she?"

He swallowed. "She's not well, Helen. Not well at all. Any sign of the doctor yet?"

She shook her head. "I'll send him straight up when he appears. Are you staying here?"

He gave an abrupt nod of his head and she smiled. "She's in good hands then." With another smile she left.

Siegfried looked down at the sleeping woman beside him. He stroked his thumb across her forehead, easing the little frown lines that were there. "Audrey," he murmured.

The doctor arrived within the hour, but time had slowed to a crawl for Siegfried. The head under in his hand was still burning hot. She hadn't woken again, but the occasional whimper suggested that her dreams were not pleasant.

When the doctor arrived, he took her temperature and listened to her heart. Siegfried hovered anxiously.

Finally, the doctor straightened. "Flu," he proclaimed. "Encourage her to drink when she wakes, take food if she can. She should stay in bed for a week, at least."

"Flu?" Siegfried sagged. After Evelyn... he hadn't realised quite how scared he'd been.

"She needs looking after, but she should recover. She's strong and healthy."

"Thank you," Siegfried said. He held out his hand and the doctor shook it, surprised.

"Take good care of her. Call me if she gets worse." The door closed behind him.

Groggily, Audrey emerged from sleep. There was somebody sitting next to her, a cool hand still on her head. "Mr Farnon?" she croaked.

"There you are," he said, and his tone was fond. "The doctor has been and gone. He says you have the flu."

She sighed.

"Do you think you can manage a bit more to drink?" he coaxed.

She nodded and regretted it as her head swam. A strong arm around her shoulders again and he helped her upright. This time, she wasn’t propped against her pillows bug against his chest. “There, I have you.” She felt safe, cradled against him as she was. Like he wouldn’t let her fall. “Tea. It’s cold, I’m afraid, but maybe that will help with your temperature.” He held the cup against her lips and she managed a few sips. “Good girl,” he said.

She leant back into him, let her head tuck under his. Even with the haze in her head, she thought she felt him brush a kiss to her forehead.

Sitting on his housekeeper’s bed and holding her protectively as she leant into him, despite how ill she was, Siegfried felt at peace.

He’d held himself at a distance from her for so long but she was ill, and she needed him. He wrapped his arm around her tighter. “How are you feeling?” he murmured.

She nestled into him. “Better,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

He brushed a hand over her forehead. Still burning up.

“Can I get you anything?”

His only answer was a sigh. He peered down at her. She’d gone back to sleep.

Helen appeared again a little later. If she was surprised to find Mrs Hall asleep in his arms, she said nothing. “Can I bring you anything?” she asked.

“Maybe a book? How are the boys getting on?”

“Everything’s under control. How’s Aud?”

“No better. But no worse.”

For Audrey, time was meaningless. Occasionally she woke, and Mr Farnon helped her to take sips of tea. Then she drifted off again. At some point, he’d laid her back down in bed, but he stayed beside her. Sometimes as she drifted on the edge of sleep, she could hear his voice reading to her quietly.

She felt protected.

She felt loved.

For Siegfried, the day was long. He looked after Mrs Hall as best he could, rubbed her back and murmured soothingly when she tossed in a fevered nightmare. Persuaded her to take sips of tea when she awoke. Read the book that Helen had delivered, hoping that she might find some comfort in it.

Helen delivered dinner and he ate it from the bedside table, taking care not to spill food in the bed, unwilling to leave Mrs Hall’s side even to eat.

“I can sit with her a while,” Helen offered when she retrieved his plate.

He shook his head. “I want to stay.”

As the evening wore on, he conceded to her offer. She sat with Mrs Hall while he found the camp bed and set it up in Mrs Hall’s room, washed himself and changed into his pyjamas.

Helen left with a sympathetic pat on his shoulder. “I’m sure she’ll be better in the morning, Siegfried.”

“Mmm,” he muttered, unwilling to hope.

He looked down at Mrs Hall. He’d felt better for a wash – maybe she would too. He fetched a flannel, ran it gently over her face. She didn’t stir. He drew her hands out of the covers and sponged them too. She gave a little murmur. He hoped it wasn’t a sound of protest.

Then he settled down into bed. Despite the fact that he’d been confined to the room for most of the day, he was dog-tired. He slipped into sleep easily.

He woke up some hours later with a start. Mrs Hall was restless, letting out little whimpers of fear. A nightmare. He climbed out of his bed and perched on hers. Rubbed her back.

“It’s just a nightmare, Mrs Hall. It’s all right.” Her forehead was still burning.

Her eyes opened. “Siegfried?” she asked. She didn’t sound awake. A clammy hand found his. “Stay with me,” she whispered.

“Audrey – I can’t,” he said, allowing the use of her given name under the cover of the night.

“Please?” A hopeful sigh.

He couldn’t say no. He picked up her bed covers and wriggled down the bed. She rolled over to make space for him then immediately curled into him.

“Go to sleep, Audrey.” He stroked her damp hair. “I’ve got you.”

Audrey woke in the morning feeling completely disorientated, though less fuzzy than she had been the day before. She opened her eyes and blinked. There was someone next to her.

The someone rolled over and met her gaze. He blinked, and blushed. “Good morning, Mrs Hall,” Mr Farnon said. “How are you feeling?”

Audrey moved tentatively. She ached, but not as badly as she had before. Half a flash of memory appeared in her mind. “I asked you to stay,” she said, her voice still dry and croaky.

He nodded. “Do you mind?” His eyes were worried.

She smiled at him and the worry subsided. “No. And I do feel better.”

“Whole sentences are certainly an improvement,” he said drily.

She nestled into her pillow. “You were worried?”

He held her gaze. “Terribly.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. Placed a hand on her forehead. “You feel cooler today.” There was relief in his voice. “Do you think you could manage some breakfast?”

“Maybe some tea?” she asked hopefully.

“Coming right up.” He swung himself out of bed and stood in his pyjamas, looking down at her.

“Mr Farnon?” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

His voice was soft when he replied. “Anything for you, my dear.”

Siegfried threw on his dressing gown and went downstairs, on a mission for tea. The relief in his heart was overwhelming. She’d spoken coherent sentences. She hadn’t minded him being there, next to her in the bed. She was going to get better.

He waited impatiently for the kettle to boil, brewed the tea to the precise strength that she liked and carried it upstairs.

When he reached her room, she was asleep again. One hand was flung into the space that he’d vacated.

“Audrey,” he whispered to himself, tasting the word, savouring it. The first names they had exchanged last night were precious, even if she had uttered Siegfried only because she was feverish. Maybe that meant he was always Siegfried, in her head.

He sat down on the camp bed and watched her sleep, ready with the tea when she woke up and wanted it.

By the afternoon, Audrey was able to sit up in bed when she was awake. She wasn’t up to leaving it, yet, but some of the aches had gone.

Despite her protestations, Mr Farnon insisted on keeping her company and it touched her, that he was putting her above the practice.

“The boys have it all under control,” he said, waving off her concerns. “I would rather stay with you.”

In between her naps, he read to her. She let the sound of his voice wash over her.

At dinner time, she managed a small bowl of soup. “Maybe I’ll be able to get up tomorrow,” she mused hopefully.

“Absolutely not,” Mr Farnon said firmly. “A week in bed, the doctor said.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

At bedtime, Siegfried hovered uncertainly, not knowing whether he should return to his own room. Perhaps he’d outstayed his welcome.

Mrs Hall looked up at him from where she was burrowed into her bedsheets. “Stay?” she asked quietly.

He smiled at her and climbed into the camp bed.

“I’m hungry,” Audrey said to herself with wonder when she awoke in the morning. She sat up slowly in bed, testing her strength. She glanced at the camp bed – empty – and then at the clock. It was breakfast time. Mr Farnon was probably downstairs.

She swung her legs out of bed, tested the carpet under her bare feet. Could she manage it? Holding onto the edge of the bed and her bedside table, she stood. Her legs felt like jelly. She took half a step. The door felt a very long way.

It opened suddenly and Mr Farnon stood there, a steaming bowl in his hand. "You're not supposed to be up and about,” he said sternly.

“I’m hardly about,” she said. Her legs quivered, and he moved quickly, stowing the bowl on the bedside table and catching her around the waist. “Back to bed, Mrs Hall,” he said gently. “I just wanted to – try,” she said sheepishly. Siegfried helped her back into the bed. It had given him a shock, coming into the room to see her out of bed and still so fragile. He sat her up against her pillows and tucked her sheets around her.

Then he sat next to her, tentatively. “You’ve looked after me for so many years, Audrey,” he said, heart beating quicker as he used her given name. “Won’t you let me look after you, now?”

He found her hand and held it, stroking his thumb gently over hers.

He dared to meet her gaze. She was staring at him. He let the silence sit, waiting. Hoping.

“Siegfried,” she said eventually. She looked at their joined hands. “I liked it when you held me, yesterday,” her voice was barely more than a whisper. “I felt… loved.”

She looked back up at him. There was a lump in his throat. “You are so very, very loved.” He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, cupped her cheek, brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “For now, Audrey, dearest… let me look after you.”

She smiled at him tremulously. “I will.”

“Good,” he murmured. “Now, my dear.” He picked up the bowl that he’d abandoned on the side. “Have some porridge.”