#all of them are just like. a minute and a half of duck noises and water rippling while i struggle to hold the camera still

[luveline]

Hey lovely !! <3 could we see Spencer’s bombshell! Reader going into labour at the BAU but trying to downplay it like Pam did on the office !! (So sorry if you’ve already done a request like this) <333 have a lovely day ☺️

thank you <3 pregnant!reader, 1.3k

“Spencer?” 

Spencer groans into his pillow. 

Your hand slips onto his stomach. “Spencer, can you wake up?” 

“No,” he mumbles, lifting his head off of one of the many pillows of your bed. He thought his bed at his apartment was comfortable, but Spencer has never slept so well as he does in your new bed, in your new home, with you warming the sheets beside him. What a miracle to live with you, the rush to get everything done before your due date complete. 

You make a strange noise, hard to see in the dark as he opens his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. 

You struggle into a sitting position. Angel, he thinks sympathetically, you’re fit to burst, your baby bump as big as it’s going to get and awfully heavy. He sits up with you, putting his hand behind your back. “Baby?” he prompts. 

“I think,” —you sound meek, not yourself, each word said reluctantly— “that I’m having real contractions.” 

Spencer’s head isn’t working. He takes a few seconds to hear you, and then another few to realise what you’ve said. “Are you sure?” 

“They’re really painful.” 

Braxton Hicks (which you’ve had, and not enjoyed) aren’t usually really painful. They’re also irregular. “How many have you had? Has it been long?” he asks. 

“Maybe five. They’re like…” You take his hand. “They’re like, they go on for ages. I’ve never felt anything like it.” 

“So you’re in labour,” he says, grasping your hand back. “Definitely. Let me get my watch, I need to time your contractions. Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not in labour. I’m going in to labour.”  

“It’s the same thing,” he says. He has boxes and boxes of mental knowledge explaining the difference, but he’s too excited to catch your strange tone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He races from the bed to the bathroom where he’d left his watch. You should be having contractions far apart at this point, around fifteen to twenty minute gaps, but it could be much further or far sooner, and Spencer doesn’t know when you had your last. He needs to time them properly so he knows when to take you to the hospital. 

“Good thing we packed your bag yesterday morning, huh?” he asks, sliding back into bed with a huge smile on his face. “And you showered last night, you’re ready to go. I have all our things in the trunk, but Morgan’s gonna have to come and do the car seat, I forgot all about it.” 

You shake your head again. 

He worries it’s from pain. “Is it starting?” 

“No, no, I’m not having any. I think it’s just cramps, actually.” 

“What?” He puts his hand on your bump. “That’s what they feel like, honey, it’s cramps, it’s your cervix contracting, it feels just like a cramp.” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Spencer cups your cheek, his fingertips sliding softly to the corner of your eye, his thumb by your nose. You look younger without any makeup on, younger still with your creeping frown. “Hey,” he says, his voice half breath, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, “hey, what’s going on?” 

Your eyebrows start to pinch down. “It’s not labour.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“I’m not having her.” 

“She had to come out some time,” he says, attempting to be funny and lighten the mood. 

“I really think it’s fine. I’m just having those Braxton Hicks again, it’s too far from my due date–”

“Angel, it’s a week away. We knew it could happen now.” He strokes your cheek again. “We don’t have to go yet. Let me time a couple of your contractions and see what we’re working with.” 

“It’s not…” You duck your head. The catch of pain gets you, and Spencer checks his watch. Four minutes past four in the morning, the longest hand at five seconds. Then he looks for your hand again to hold in his, his own panic backseated by your denial. “They’re not that bad,” you say stiffly. 

“That’s good, honey, but they’re going to get worse. Remember what we said, huh? The pain will get really bad, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We have a plan.” 

“It’s not real.” 

“Baby,” he says, tugging your hand imploringly to his chest, his voice having descended to a place it so rarely goes, “what are you scared of?” 

“That I can’t do it,” you say. 

“Is your contraction over?” he asks, noticing the laxening of your fingers. 

“Yeah.”

He’s silent for a few seconds. 

“Is there anything in the entire world that you can’t do?” 

You sniff. 

“Seriously. I can’t name a single thing you can’t do. This isn’t different. It’s going to be scary and painful, and it’s not something I want for you, not really, but you’re about to have a baby.” He rubs your thumb, ducking his head in the hopes that the movement will make you raise your own. “Our baby. We’ve waited such a long time.” 

“Nine months.” 

“Thirty nine weeks and two days. That's two hundred and seventy five days waiting. This is a good thing,” he says, meeting your eyes the moment you raise your head. “The waiting is over. This is the fun part.”

“‘Cos our girl is coming,” you say. 

He grins. “Exactly! I know you’re scared, but thinking you can’t do it? Of course you can. And I’m gonna be with you the whole time.” 

“You promise?”

“Of course I do.” 

You wipe your eyes with the backs of your hands. Spencer lets his palm fall onto your thigh. It really is going to hurt. It’s gonna be pain like you’ve never felt before, and he’s terrified of everything that could go wrong, but what’s important now is making sure you know you’re going to be alright. 

“You’re going to be a beautiful mom,” he says, rubbing your thigh, softer from time spent resting. “I’m so excited I can’t describe it. This time, the day after tomorrow, we could be here with her. We’ll be putting her down to sleep in the nursery in her newborn onesie we picked out, the–”

“Little rabbits,” you say, the hint of a smile on your lips. 

“I can’t wait to see her face.” 

“Her little fingers.” 

“Her nose, her eyes–”

“You said babies have their moms hands.” 

He smiles. “I have my mom’s. Can you imagine? And we get to find out today.” 

You let him touch your stomach. “I know what you’re doing.”

“You always do.” 

“I’m so scared.” 

“Sweetheart, let me be the scared one.” 

“You’re not gonna dilate ten centimetres!” 

“You’ve probably already done one,” he says. “Just nine more to go.” 

His joke doesn’t land. To his horror, you end up sniffling and locked up with panic. He rubs your back in long sweeps, feeling younger than ever kneeling in bed at your side, minutes droning on. He’s pulling your head into his neck thinking he’s completely out of your depth when you say, “It’s starting again, Spence.” 

He checks his watch. “That’s eleven minutes.” 

Your contractions will get worse soon, and closer together. You probably don’t have long until it starts, and labour might go on for hours. To do this, you're going to have to believe That you can. 

Spencer takes your face into his hands and looks you right in the eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.” He pecks you gently. “Angel, if anyone in the world can do this, it’s you.” 

You take a deep breath. He watches your nerves turn to determination, turn to love. “I know.” 

“Is there anything you need me to do before we start getting ready to leave?” 

You give a soft smile. “Kiss for luck?” 

He’s gonna need it. 

[neoplatinum]

do not move | nakamura kazuha

summary: when you both each meet other for the first time, you think: strength in numbers, she thinks: deadweight

pairing: kazuha x reader

themes: zombie apocalypse au, blood, death, murder, gore, graphic violence (if you're squeamish, beware!), lone survivor kazuha and lone survivor reader, angst, fluff, [-------] side character

wc: 6.2k

a twig branch snaps, and you immediately duck behind a bush. heavy breathing and exhaustion burning your muscles. just outside of the city, you try and get some cover from the raiders running around the streets; they've been setting everything on fire. even the smell of fire still invading into your nose.

moving down the eerie neighborhood is tough, especially with a limping leg and a heavy backpack. you risked your life for those rations --only to get chased out by those raiders. they chased you like you were prey, and you walked out alive (mostly) with a bullet in the calf and a running trail of blood.

you press your ears into the ground, making yourself as small as possible. praying that it's simply a deer, a hopeless dream. deers have been nearly all hunted. but you hope the burn in your lungs stops soon, and you cling to yourself, willing the pain away long enough that whoever is nearby leaves.

"clear, no sign of life." you hear a low voice shout nearby. the raiders were still looking for you, going as far as to chase you even outside the city. you know what lies ahead if you get caught. so you bite down, shoving your teeth into your bottom teeth, trying to numb the pain of that bullet.

you stay crouched there for another ten minutes before you even decide it's okay to lift your head off the ground, raiders had no morals, their signals could be a trap and you wanted to take the extra precaution.

and then you army crawled away to a fence, thanking the heavens that you ran fast enough to get into the suburbs. the trail of blood is still worrisome. grabbing ripped rags from your bag, you try your best to tie them around the wound just enough to stop the bleeding.

"fuck fuck fuck." you bite into a stick nearby as you wince and tie a final knot. securing your leg. laying yourself up against a wall, and breathing through the pain, wincing every so often until you feel the pain subside to a low numbness.

you haul yourself up to a house, it's oddly pretty, even with it's dilapidated roof and furniture all thrown out the front lawn. you think you would've bought the house before d-day. and with a heavy grunt you drop into a couch. it's been torn apart, but as long as it does it's job you don't care.

the pain is still throbbing and it just looks bad. you cover the windows with fabric lying around and press a wooden board against the door. and with one final breath, you flip your switch blade open and dig straight into your calf, screaming into a spare shirt and digging the bullet from out of your leg. muted screams so hard that you think you might've bursted your own eardrum, and pain so bad that you shake until you drop back onto the couch.

the bullet is out, flung across the floor and blood all over. you feel like passing out, but you spit out your shirt and wrap it around the now open wound, bleeding profusely on the wooden floor. with sweat all over your forehead and pain so severe you feel your body shake until you pass out.

you knock out cold.

--

"up." you wake up to the noise of a woman, her lower face is covered with a bandana and she has a long blade pointed right at your throat. if you moved a centimeter closer, that blade would no doubt pierce your jugular. "i said up!" she shouts at you.

you throw your hands up as you try to get yourself up, it's so painful to even sit up half your body. but you manage to have your back leaning against the couch. she stares at you with sharp eyes, eyes that no longer gleam in the light.

you stay as still as possible, waiting for the woman to do anything really, anything that won't end with you beheaded on this rotting old couch. she stares at you, blade never moving a centimeter. she glances around you, seeing the blood all over the floor, backpack open with supplies all spilled out. the pant leg that you have scrunched over your knee, and most of all the blood soaked shirt tied around your leg.

"bite?" she says, and you can see how in a second, she could decide whether you live or die.

"no. bullet. raiders." she nods and scans around the room, that blade still very much at your throat. she looks back down at your backpack, filled with old dog food.

"split 80/20. i let you live." she demands.

"split 50/50, i give you the better half." you negotiate back.

"i don't think you understand how this works, you give me what I want, i don't slice your neck open." she continues, pointing the tip just enough that it pricks at your skin.

"split 50/50, and i give you medical supplies." you counter. she stops and thinks for a bit.

"you're bold, even with a sword at your neck...fine." she says, and drops her blade, you relax a bit but then she points it right back at you. "show your weapons."

you move to slowly bring out the small revolver and pre-made molotovs tucked in a smaller bag compartment. her blade never leaves your throat. you unload the revolver, two bullets dropping to the ground, before you sit back on the couch, "happy?"

she doesn't comment. you lean forward, letting out a grunt as you pick up the two bullets, reloading it into the revolver, tucking it into your belt.

"ah fuck." you groan as you check on your wound, it's become an ugly purple, brusing all around and sensitive to the touch. you breath heavily and wince at the touch.

"did you sterilize it?" the woman's voice is strong and clear, no sign of hesitation.

"no. passed out." she nods and digs through her own bag, pulling out a molotov. "i'm going to douse it, bite down on something." you nod and grab another shirt from your bag, watching as she pours the liquid over your wound, you scream out like a wounded dog, and nearly fall over.

"needle and stitches?" she asks you. you nod and point into the small compartment of your bag. she pulls out the small sewing kit in your backpack, grabbing old sutures and tying it around the needle.

"bite." she orders. you shove your teeth hard into the shirt, as she begins sewing up the wound, jagged from the switchblade. the pain becomes so unbearable you pass out even sooner.

--

waking up to the sun in your eyes, you find yourself still on that same rotting couch. your body is hot, running like a furnace. you glance around and everythings out on the floor: dried blood, your switchblade, that bullet across the floor and your revolver.

you groan as you sit up, now your leg is sore and heavy, your face is hot and burning up. but the door is ajar, you scan around and half your food is gone, along with the suture kit.

"fuck." the woman's abandoned you. taken what she needed and crept out before you could even say bye. she holds up to her bargain, 8 cans of dog food became 4, and you still have your revolver on you.

"damn her." you start getting your items back in order.

--

the weather's getting colder, and you only have that workman jacket around your shoulder. the wind gets harsher as the days go by, the sight of falling leaves and pine cones littered the ground. you kneel behind a tree, eyes trained on a lone buck.

he stops eating grass to look around, before dropping his neck back down for more grass, and before his next bite, he drops instantly. body falling to the floor with an arrow through his head. a clean and sharp shot.

you drag yourself up, tucking the bow into the side of your backpack, and limping towards your fresh breakfast/lunch/dinner for the next few weeks. smiling at the labor finally paying off, stripping down sticks until they become sharp points to pierce through skin.

as you walk across the meadow to retrieve your prize, you start to hear distant galloping behind you, causing you to duck and turn around; before you know it, you're grabbed by the arm and thrown onto the back of the horse. you immediately grab onto anything you can hold on, that being the waist of the rider.

"woah."

"shut it, we're being chased." the woman kicks the horse into higher gear, and you both speed off into the woods, you turn you back just in time to see a group or horseback riders with lit torches chasing you across the meadow.

you try not to think about the lone buck that should've been yours.

--

you get off the horse and immediately start throwing up on the ground, shaken by the sudden movements and jostling around. the woman pays you no mind though, securing her horse to a branch and staring at you.

"i don't know how you've survived this long." she starts. pulling out carrots to feed her horse, the horse happily munching on his lunch.

you're still puking, but just the insult is getting you riled up. "i survive just fine."

"those raiders would've sacrificed you by now." she says and crosses her arms.

"no, they wouldn't." you counter, and she sighs before untying the horse, and leading it away. you follow behind it. "...but thank you. for saving me. twice."

you try to not let your pride get the better of you, considering this women lent a helping hand in your darkest moments.

she doesn't say anything back and continues walking through the forest. you trail behind her for what must've been thirty minutes before she speaks up.

"it was a trap, that lone buck." she goes on. "no zombies, and a lone buck in an open meadow. you should've known better." she says to you. you're immediately enraged.

"how would i know that?" you are tired of these insults.

"you should have." she just says, and it ends there.

"since you know so much, you should teach me." you say. she laughs at that.

"no, i survive alone." the way she says it is firm.

"listen, everyone could do well with a partner, i could share knowledge that you might not, and you can share the infinite wisdom that you seem to have." you're tired of traveling alone with no one having your back, maybe you can get her to work with you.

"no. i survive alone." she continues.

"oh don't be like that, i gave you four cans of dog food." you try and make a joke, remembering how she left you weeks ago.

"no, i let you keep four cans of dog food and let you live, there's a difference." she counters.

"let's not get into the technicalities, you ever heard of the phrase of strength in numbers?" you smirk, trying to get her to understand reason.

"strength in numbers is foolish if im surviving with deadweight." she says firmly, shaking her head at the idea.

"i am not deadweight! i cook up a mean meal of dog food and peas." you explain.

"yeah no, not happening." she says with finality.

you huff but continue walking with her.

--

"stop following me." it's been about an hour.

"you can't tell me what to do." you sound like a small child throwing a tantrum.

the woman sighs and continues walking with disdain. you're still sticking so close by her. both of you reach a small tucked away cabin. it's been expertly covered in moss and dirt to blend into the background. she walks away from the house a few meters away and ties her horse to a tree.

"woah, sick place." you comment, amazed by the well thought out hideout, it's truly a place you wouldn't have thought twice to really look into.

"thank you." she walks in, and taps her foot on the right side, and suddenly there's another opening, underneath the floor.

"woah, wait, the house isn't even the actual hideout, its underground?" she says nothing, you follow her down the stairs to the basement.

"you are seriously too trusting, walking right after me into a basement. i could've lured you into a trap." she says to you as she begins restocking her items. rows and rows of weapons, rations and even a hydroponics system in the room.

"nah, you wouldn't kill me. you would've done it when you found me on that couch." you say, admiring the amount of work he has put to make this place work. it's quite cozy, small camping lanterns in all different shapes laid around the dark room. the room's also filled with carpets.

"carpets?" you mention, it's odd that there's so many carpets overlapping each other.

"muffles noise. sometimes people walk through upstairs, but i make it so that even if they stay for long, i can move freely down here without them hearing."

she's clearly thought this place through, she has everything that she needs down here to survive. it's wonderful really, then a question pops into your mind. "why do you go outside then?"

"what?"

"why do you leave this place if it's so safe?" you ask. she seems more than equipped to survive here in this base. you glance around, looking at the plants that she's growing, amazed at how they're all turning out so well. so much for saying you could cook up a mean meal of dog food and peas.

she doesn't bother answering. instead pulling together jerky and greens from her hydroponics. handing you some, you decline and open your can of dog food, as much as you would like to eat it, her evasiveness is making you weary.

"so, do i get to know your name?" you ask as you shovel the can into your mouth.

"you can call me z."

"okay, z. that's a cool nickname." you chuckle, "what is it short for? zebra, zack?" you joke to yourself, she shakes her head no and continues eating her jerky.

you don't bother her anymore that night.

--

"morning z! what are we doing today?" you haven't felt so safe sleeping in years, feeling well rested and ready to take on the world with your trusty partner. z's busy cleaning her weapons when you wake up.

"nothing. i let you stay the night, you need to leave." she says calmly, wiping her dirty rag into a bucket of water. you frown at that, confused with her hot and coldness.

"dont be like that! strength in numbers remember?" you say, sitting near her, she groans at that.

"stop saying that."

"why? strength in numbers. strength in numbers. strength in numbers." you joke.

"stop it! you aren't chaewon!" she shouts at you, shoving an arrow near your neck. it's oddly familiar, the aggression from when you first met her is there.

"who's chaewon?" you ask.

z just leaves the room, leaving her half cleaned arrows on the workbench. you hear a door open and close, and now you're contemplating following after her. you choose rather to let her calm down, when she calms down maybe you can apologize.

you sigh and look around, feeling bad for being invasive, but you really didn't know. looking around you explore her place more, seeing a locker filled with clothes, and a giant map on a corkboard. pins all over the states, with detailed notes of specific locations. a lot of them were lookout points for raiders.

tucked under the map is a white square, you pull it off the corkboard, and see a very faded photo of two girls. one that you can recognize as z and another girl smiling with a bob. tagged below the image is kz & cw.

you begin to examine more of the notes, a lot highlighting names and times. it seems that z has been trying to find patterns of when raiders are patrolling.

with a sudden door opening, you grab a knife immediately from your waist as you see z rush back inside, finger to her lips as she grabs you away from the corkboard.

"silent." she whispers directly into your ear. you two crouch on the ground and nod. after waiting a couple minutes you hear it. the sound of footsteps getting closer, rustling leaves outside. z nods and uncovers a small machine under the carpet.

she takes one of the ends of the machine and puts it close to her ear. you stay as still as possible as she starts jotting down notes. she grips her pen harder as time goes on. and you stay still, watching her.

--

you find out much later there were raiders out visiting the house while you dozed off. both of you were sitting against the wall waiting for the people upstairs. z has been formulating a plan the whole time. meanwhile, those raiders treated upstairs like their temporary hideout for a couple hours.

after you wake up, and z gives you the all clear to talk, the first thing she asks is, "how good are you at taking out people?"

"the best." you smirk. it was always your speciality, being able to slip in and out of places before anyone could notice, and by the time they did notice, you already had twisted their necks.

"strength in numbers?" she asks wearily.

"strength in numbers." you confirm.

"then i need your help, i need to rescue someone." she goes on. you nod, and she grabs the map off the corkboard. and unfolds a smaller map, one with the layout of a building. "but i don't know if i can trust you."

you gasp, "how could you say that?" you dramatically ask her.

she rolls her eyes at that, "i need a guarantee from you."

"like what?"

"something to ensure you won't ditch me when things get rough." she says, thinking of things to trade.

you take off your pendant necklace, gently placing it in her hands. "this was from my late mother, i'd rather be chased by runners for the rest of my life than to lose this." you state seriously, she nods at the vulnerability and slips it onto her neck.

then z takes off the bandana that's been covering the lower half of her face the whole time. "this is a gift, from the person we're rescuing. i also would rather be chased by runners for the rest of my life than to lose this." she hands you the black bandana, and you tie is around your face, just like she has.

when you look back up, you're shocked at just how beautiful the woman is, even with her lean muscular build you knew she was pretty, but seeing the rest of her face uncovered, she's drop dead gorgeous. face sculpted from the gods.

"what?"

"nothing." you comment, "fill me in on this plan."

"okay, we go in like this..." z starts laying out the steps.

--

you haven't visited the city since that one grueling day, leaving your leg with a bullet. now that you're back you're shivering in anticipation, this city has definitely left its horrifying memories in your mind. with z by your side, you feel a little safer, though.

the outskirts of the city are deadly quiet, filled with car crashes and littering barrels of trash. walking closer into main street, you start to feel your hair stand up on your skin. it's terrifying, being back when you tried so desperately to leave this horrifying place.

"where's the patrol?"

"we have exactly 5 minute 25 second window before patrol comes back." you hear it loud and clear, 5 minute and 26 seconds, you are dead meat.

she then starts picking up the pace, running between alleyways with her head ducked low, always pausing between corners and big obstructions in between the streets.

with the cold wind, you hear howling through open buildings with their glass windows broken through, the sound of fire crackling in barrels and most of all you hear raiders in the distant, cheering and screaming.

"2 minutes left." she says. you follow behind her, quick on her trail. she soon ducks completely behind a building. digging through her backpack for trap mines.

"listen to me, trap mines: detonate with proximity. we need distractions. raiders are extreme in not letting things getting through their grasp, you know this well enough." she says and hands you trap mines. z gives you the signal and you both split. she heads straight for the back entrance of the building while you go around the side entrance.

raiders are shuffling around, trading posts. you crouch close to the ground and place a trap mine close to the door, waiting for a raider to walk close. you crawl backward into safety, reciting the plan to yourself.

a loud boom blows up at the entrance, and you can hear the horrifying scream of a man being blown to pieces, and other voices running after him.

"we're under attack!" the sound of the raider's feet is closer, all rushing towards the entrance with the trapped mine. in the distance, you hear another mine go off, z's mine based on the direction of the sound.

"another?" a raider shouts. then you hear some footsteps fall away. you sneak around the front of the building, examining the situation, most men have spread to the side and back entrance, disregarding the front.

you slip through the front with the open window, you try and step over the broken glass to minimize sound. and soon you creep towards the stairs. a man stands before you, handgun in hand and peaking around for intruders. you dig a shiv right into his neck before he even gets a clue.

dragging the body away, you put on his jacket and hat, grabbing his gun and checking for bullets, a full magazine. you feel lucky, feeling a knife in the jacket you stole. you tuck that into your shoe. you need all you've got to save whoever chaewon is.

the raiders are now patrolling through the entrances, you find yourself able to slip into different levels of the building until you reach the fifth floor, where supposedly chaewon was supposed to be.

when z filled you in on the situation, you piece together that chaewon is z's older sister. she and z used to survive together, going from groups to traveling alone. never sticking by a group for too long. z had explained that chaewon wanted to leave the raiders after she found out that they sacrificed people that they caught just for fun.

it was horrifying; they joined the raiders in hopes of getting protection by being in a large group, but she couldn't stand by and watch innocent survivors being taken out just for the fun of it.

z wanted to leave too, until they both got caught, the raiders let z get away if they let chaewon get sacrificed. so z's been figuring out a plan to break her free, and it seems tonight was supposed to be chaewon's sacrifical night.

you shivered just hearing it, you knew nothing about chaewon but you knew you would never want her to be sacrificed. you can see it, the line of tortured souls, all being watched by the raiders, it seems that their idea of sacrifice is making them fall from stories high into an enclosed space of zombies, all ready to bite these people to shreds.

you line up close, thinking of a way to get them riled up and away from chaewon. you grab a molotov from your bag, along with a gun. with a careful aim, you toss the molotov on the floor, startling the raiders. they're all trying to examine the disturbance, with quickness, you throw another molotov. setting some raiders on fire. with their screams piercing your ears, you grab your gun and start shooting them. the confusion and commotion of the fifth floor is also startling the tortured survivors, they start running towards the stairs.

you're busy trying to find whoever chaewon is while also shooting the raiders. you hear the signature sound of z's long bow, taking out raiders, some even falling straight into the zombie pit. you can't see her but you know that she's here now.

"chaewon!" you shout, and a shorter girl stops, her eyes go wide. you spot her, the girl that looks so familiar to that polaroid back in z's base. her hair is longer, face bruised up. she's sporting a black eye and she's got a weird limp. you grab her hand and drag her away from the commotion, z continues to aim at the raiders.

by the time you are able to get her out of the building, more raiders are showing up. rushing up the building, you grab chaewon's hand and turn to her. "we run now." you tell her.

she nods and like how the raiders chased you out those weeks ago, you run as fast as you can, pulling chaewon along. with the limp, it's harder for her to run but you know even trailing behind for a second could be instant death.

z's plan was this: she wanted revenge, wanted to kill all those raiders for what they did to chaewon. for making her become their sacrificial pawn, so she told you to take chaewon to a safe place. and then she would let hell rain on those fuckers.

you finally spot the theatre, the rendezvous point where you were supposed to keep chaewon safe. the girl is startled, you're wearing her sister's bandana, but you aren't z. and when you finally are able to lock the door, chaewon collapses on the floor, breathing so heavy, and loud. you calm yourself down too, leaning against the door sinking to ground.

"you aren't zuha." she says between breaths.

"who's zuha?" you ask, confused by what she means.

she points at your bandana. "that is kazuha's bandana, i gave it to her." she says, confused written on her face.

"oh. z?" you ask. chaewon is confused but nods. "z is probably a codename she gave me then."

"you met her then!" chaewon sits up and moves closer to you, tears sprouting in her eyes. "is she alive?"

"yes." you reply back, chaewon probably has no idea if kazuha is alive or not. that must be terrifying, letting your sister have freedom, not even knowing if she actually survived outside.

"she uh, made this plan, for us to rescue you." you explain, going into depth about how you two met. also how she is letting you help save chaewon.

"kazuha's a hard person to convince, you must've gotten under her skin." chaewon responds, listening intently about the whereabouts of her sister.

you agree, fishing out food and water for chaewon. she must be starving, you think. chaewon nearly cries at the sight, downing water like she was in a scorching desert. you let her have at it while checking your timer. kazuha told you that if she doesn't return in thirty minutes, that you should take chaewon to the base, and that she probably has died.

you're not going to let that happen; forget that stupid plan to get revenge alone. you're going to go back for her. with a stretch, and drinking your own water bottle, you get ready to set back out. chaewon looks at you in bewilderment.

"where are you going?" she asks while biting on jerky.

"back, i'm not letting her fight those raiders alone." you say, checking your handgun for bullets. chaewon looks at you and nods.

"strength in numbers." she says to herself.

"yeah, strength in numbers." you smile, hearing the familiar phrase. you hand chaewon a handgun and some molotovs. "three knocks, that'll be the signal that we're coming to the theatre, any other knock, that's not us." chaewon nods and checks her gun.

"good luck back there, please bring my baby sister back safely. i'm counting on you." even though this is the first conversation you've had with chaewon, you feel inclined to listen to her words.

"swear on my soul." and with that you exit the theatre.

--

with blood on your face, and the jacket that you stole, you rush into the building. most of the raiders are circling around the ground floor, grabbing an auto rifle, you open fire like you never have before, using the cars around as coverage. with a rage you never felt before you go batshit crazy, slicing down raiders left and right. you don't even feel anything anymore, just with the goal of finding kazuha.

the raiders are all falling by your hands. you rapidly fire at whoever dares to separate you and kazuha. you pick up guns that's been left by now dead raiders. you can hear a distant scream of a woman's voice, sounding like kazuha's voice. your blood runs cold, you rush upstairs, taking out the raider's best you can. at some point you get tired of waiting and just grenade them.

the quicker you can reach her, the quicker you can save her. you rush up to the fifth floor where all the commotion went down. you hear the sounds of raiders all shouting. and with a quick glance, you can see them cornering kazuha.

"you never should've come back kazuha, chaewon let you free, by being a sacrifice to them." the man talks as he points below. he smirks, "you want to trade places with your sister? fine by me."

the man and the rest of the raiders start walking kazuha to the edge. you rush behind two raiders. shiving them each and approaching the rest of the raiders. grabbing a metal sheet you use it as coverage as you rush the rest of them. letting out all your strength, you push the rest of the raiders off the edge, falling to their demise. the man that was speaking to kazuha dodges the attack. you find yourself nearly falling off the edge, but kazuha grabs you in time to pull you back.

so now you two face him, kazuha's gotten pretty beaten up, her arm's messed up and her feet's dragging. so you put yourself in front of her.

"let me handle it." you tell her. she's too tired to protest, after just nearly falling to her demise. you keep her behind you pressed against the wall as you approach the man with a switchblade, he's smirking like he has the upperhand. until you smash a bottle over his head and run at him to tackle him down.

he's pushed his knife back against your blade, and you're fighting with every ounce of strength in your body. pushing the blade closer and closer towards him. he makes a quick movement to toss you off over him. you roll over and he jumps to shove the knife at you, to which you dodge. pushing with all your might to push him off you. you launch yourself forward, stabbing the blade into his neck, blood gushing out all over you. he screams and gasps at the impaling. he makes a final attack against you, slicing your face. you let out a scream but don't let go of the knife in his neck.

soon he falls over to the side, his body going limp when kazuha shoots him in the head. a loud ringing noise running through your ears, you latch onto your face. the gash long and running deep over your face.

kazuha's quick to rush to your side, trying to hold your face with her one good arm. she rips off fabric from her shirt to wrap around your face, as you cry out loud. sobbing at the excruciating pain. the man is dead, and you're thankful you saved kazuha.

--

you gave yourself twenty minutes before getting up. kazuha's been trying to set her arm by herself. you lightly tap her and hold onto the loose arm. you hand her your loose switchblade for her to bite it as you set it back into her socket. she screams into the metal blade. and you're quick to make a makeshift sling for her arm. working with one good eye and pain searing through your body.

she cries at the sight of your face and the blood staining her shirt. this battle wasn't an easy one, but you're grateful that both you and kazuha survived. she keeps crying even as you tell her it's okay. you wrap her good arm around your shoulder as you both slowly make your way out of the building.

after a good while of sobbing to herself, she turns to look at you again. "chaewon?"

"she's safe, put her in the theatre like we talked about." you try as move your face as little as possible. kazuha nods. her limping as she puts her body weight on you like a crutch. even though you're so deep in pain, and the adrenaline is finally wearing off, you're glad you went back for her. you know you would never be able to live with the guilt that she died.

the rest of the walk is silent other than wincing here and there and ragged breaths.

you tap three quick knocks at the theatre door, and you hear the sound of a board being moved behind the theatre. when it opens you see chaewon pointing a gun straight at you. as soon as she recognizes you, she puts it down, ushering you two inside.

"chaewon!" kazuha throws herself at her sister, crying into her. letting out relieved tears at the sight of her sister after so long. chaewon's trying to examine kazuha's injuries, but the girl won't even separate herself.

the two girls hug each other for a long while, just crying into each other. you board up the entrance to the theatre. feeling the exhaustion hit your body completely as you sit down by a chair. as much as it hurts, you smile at the two girls.

finally, you knock out cold.

--

you awake to the two girls speaking to each other in hushed tones. it seems that they're talking about the raiders, how chaewon was kept captive until tonight for her sacrificial night. chaewon cries as she thinks about how she hasn't seen sunlight in weeks, being fed slop and kazuha cries but listens intently.

you try and move yourself up, sitting in the chair. chaewon looks at you, and smiles.

"hi, glad you're awake." chaewon says to you. kazuha also turns to look at you, sobbing when she thinks about the deep gash on your face. you smile back at the two, still feeling the pain of the attack.

"i stitched your face while you were asleep." chaewon says, and she stands up to remove the shirt covering your face. trading it for a clean and new cloth. "he slashed over your eye, i think you won't be able to see out of your left eye anymore." chaewon comments quietly. she gently wraps the new cloth around your face. you nod, the truth of the matter settling in.

"i'm sorry!" kazuha cries out, the guilt of being the reason you lost your eye is hitting her hard. you shake your head no, you would never blame kazuha for what he did. "it's not your fault kazuha, i wouldn't blame you. i had to save you. no matter what."

kazuha cries harder, and you walk yourself over to hug her. calming her down and telling her everything is okay. as long as you still had each other you don't care how many limbs you lose.

you three get ready to finally be away from this cursed city.

"thank you for coming back for me."

"strength in numbers kazuha, i wouldn't ever think of leaving you behind."

--

it's been a couple months since saving chaewon; you've gotten closer to the two sisters. you find that behind the coldness, kazuha is actually a lovely woman. a woman hardened by the loss of her sister by her side. every day, you spend time with the two girls happily. and now you wear an eyepatch, claiming that it makes you look cooler. kazuha rolled her eyes when you made that comment.

meeting kazuha changed the trajectory of your life forever, you're happy to find a semblance of a family with these two girls. especially when kazuha makes your heart race as you get to know her.

sometimes when chaewon isn't looking you sneak a kiss for kazuha, the woman always goes rigid like a plank whenever you do this. you giggle everytime, while chaewon is always confused what happened.

kazuha also had a hard time with expressing affection, so she would always say that you should ride with her on her horse. you know it's because she likes keeping you against her at all times.

sometimes you think chaewon knows what is going on between you two (she most definitely does) but just plays dumbs. like she's waiting for you two to come clean. you don't give her that satisfaction until much later when chaewon catches you kissing kazuha before she sets off for a supply run.

chaewon simply smiles when you see you've been caught. and you smile because it feels like you have gained a family through meeting kazuha.

--

a/n: ive been wanting to write a tlou (the last of us) piece for sooo long. i am not a med student, so if there's any medical inaccuracies...let's just move past that. i made this piece less zombie centric, and more plot driven. anyways, stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[f0point5]

I had the time of my life, with you

Companion piece to the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au

✨Set in Abu Dhabi 2021, right before the race✨

A/N: So it turns out setting myself deadlines actually works lol. I still have a love/hate relationship with these pieces. But, I have a special place in my heart for this one because I had the title in my head since like the second week of the smau and I didn’t use it for any other chapter because of that. And also it’s an Easter egg because in the AD bonus part Y/N uses it as a caption for her Instagram post as an Easter egg for Max ;) we love a mastermind. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little ramble.

You thought you knew tension. You thought, growing up like you did, you were more than familiar. The eerie silence, the glazed expressions as your mind tries to protect you from close the chaos is, the pit in your stomach, that heaviness of breath, that feeling of cold that goes down to your bones no matter the weather.

Fucking hell, were you wrong.

You’ve never known tension like this.

The garage is thrumming with energy. Everyone is going about their business quicker, deeper, quieter, than it seems like they ever have. The grandstands are filling up, music blasting over the speakers. There’s a palpable electricity in the air. You’ve been shivering all day, unable to get warm enough even in a jacket in the desert heat.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you wind through along the narrow corridors behind the garage to the small room that Max has been hiding in. For the first time in a while, you knock instead of going straight it.

You’ve barely seen him all day, he’s been pulled this way and that for a hundred interviews and briefings, ducking the Netflix crews who’ve never been so sycophantic. They made him a villain, and now they lurk like there’s blood in the water in case he becomes the hero. Selfishly, you’ve missed him, and when you’d said as much to Christian, he’d just nodded to the back of the garage.

“He’s taking a couple of minutes to himself,” Christian had said, fixing his gaze on you. “But you should go and see him,”

So you had. And as you heard a gentle “Come in,” over the noise of drills and loud dance music and stepped inside, you realised why.

This was tension, you thought as your eyes fell on Max. He was on the small couch, hunched over, elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped together almost as if he were praying. It’s like you can see every muscle in his body pulled taut under his fireproofs. He doesn’t even raise his head when you come in, but you suppose he glances at your shoes to know it’s you.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it. You’re not sure why, but it feels like you’ll bother him less from over here.

“Hey, champ,” you say, mustering a smile in case he looks at you. He doesn’t, at first. His eyes stay on the ground, and then, painfully slowly, his head lifts.

His eyes are still your favourite colour, his hair is still a bit too long, he’s still unshaven because he couldn’t be bothered even though he might be looking at pictures of this night for the rest of his life. He’s still Max.

“It’s a bit early for that,” he says, his half smile as delicate as yours. Yeah, still Max.

“Respectfully, I disagree,” you tell him crossing your arms over your chest as he looks up at you. “Since I can remember you’ve wanted to be a champion, and since I can remember, I knew you would be. That nickname is twenty years in the making,”

His eyes drop to his hands again and your heart drops with them. You’re trying so hard to say the right thing, but it was arrogant to think you ever had a chance. What experience in your frivolous existence would help you know what to say at a time like this. You wonder if you should just leave him to it as you fold your bottom lip between your teeth to chew at it as another shiver wracks your body.

“Twenty years,” Max says quietly, making you look over at him again. “It’s a long time,”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, nodding even though he’s not looking at you. You edge closer to him, and when he doesn’t react, you take a seat beside him. Not as close as every cell in your body tells you you need to be, but as close as you feel like he’d want right now.

“You don’t understand,” he says with a sigh.

You don’t respond, because you know you don’t. You’ve never committed to anything, loved anything, lived for anything, like this. This dream of his has outlived marriages, outlasted memories, predated a friendship that feels like it has been going on forever. It’s the only thing Max has ever wanted. You’ll never be able to understand, because no matter how much you love him, he loved racing first.

“Tell me what to say, Max,” you almost beg as you reach towards him. You can’t even hold his hand, so you just place yours on his wrist, fingertips resting against his skin at the edge of his sleeve.

You glance over at him, naively hoping he will look over at you and tell you what he needs from you. Because you’d do anything.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just says, “I’m sorry,” in a small voice the brings a lump to your throat.

You shake your head. “Don’t be. I know I don’t understand. No one can. Not me, not Christian, not Stan, not even your dad. You’ve outclassed your whole support system here,” you say this last part with a laugh, but it’s true. He’s alone now more than ever, he’ll stand on that top step alone, too. “We’re all so proud of you, you know,”

“I know,” he mutters, and it kind of breaks you how dismissive he is, even if you know why.

“Do you?” You ask him, leaning a little closer to him, but he doesn’t react.

He just continues staring at his hands as he untangles them, his left fingers curling backwards until they brush over your hand on his wrist, and you hastily slot your fingers into his as he lets out a heavy breath.

“Yeah.” He says, sounding more resolute this time.

“And you know that we’ll be proud of you, even if-“ you can’t even bring yourself to say it. “We’ll be proud of you regardless.”

“I know,” he says, “but it’s not enough,”

Despite yourself, you let out a frustrated sigh. “Max, I know that it’s not a trophy, but-“

“No,” he says, squeezing your hand to silence you. “It’s not that. I mean that it’s not enough, to come second.”

You grip his hand tighter as he lets out a laboured breath, his head lifting so he can stare straight ahead where the Dutch flag is pinned to the wall.

“We didn’t do all this to come second.” His voice is low and reverent. “My mum, Vic, I took so much from them. My dad gave up his whole life for this. You put your life on hold for this. It can’t all be for nothing,”

He’s never really said it, but you know what he means - this win is owed. He owes his mother a marriage, his sister a father, and his father a career. And none of that is in his gift, but if he can weigh a championship against all that sacrifice, then maybe he will be forgiven. Maybe for the first time in a long time, he’ll race with a clean slate. Without wondering whether he was worth the life he cost those around him, and the life he cost himself. And you want that for him. God, you want that more than anything.

You reach for him before you can stop yourself. Space be damned. You cup his cheek in your free hand and force him to look at you.

“Max, It won’t be for nothing.” You promise him, your nails pressing gently into his skin as if you’re trying to hold onto him. Like he might float away. “Not to me. Not to anyone who loves you. Even if you don’t win today, even if you never do, even if you shunt on the first lap. I had the time of my life with you this year. Being there for you will never have been for nothing,”

He wants to believe you, you can see it. But even if he believes that you all think that, he doesn’t think that. How do you tell him it’s worth it, when you both know there’s only one way for him to prove it?

“Do you want me to drive?”

Your question catches him off guard so much as that he snorts his laughter. You feel the air against your face as he falls back against the couch.

“I’m serious,” you say, grinning as you watch him. “I’ll put on the suit and the helmet and do the race for you, like Mulan. I did the track walk, I know where I’m going. Vaguely, anyway ,”

You’re making a meal of this mediocre joke, but you’ll do anything you can to keep him as carefree as he looks right now. With his head thrown back and the colour returning to his cheeks as his shoulders shake.

“Engel,” he says, his head lolling in your direction, “You really think you have a better chance of winning than me?”

You reach over to move a stray strand of hair away from his forehead, and his eyes follow your fingers.

“No, I don’t,” you say, letting your hand slide through his hair to rest on his jaw. “Because you, Max Emilian Verstappen, know how to win races better than anyone.”

Your thumb brushed across his stubbled cheek and he leans into it instinctively, just like the cats. The smile you give him feels more like one you remember, and the ones he returns reaches his bright eyes.

“Alright,” he says with a shrug.

He gets to his feet in one smooth movement, pulling you with him towards the door by your entwined hands that you’d quite forgotten about. He must have, too, because when he notices he squeezes your hand to get you to look up at him. When you do, your breath catches in your throat, and for the first time all day, you feel warm.

“I better go and win, then,” he says lightly, pulling the door open.

No one will you believe you, but you know then that you’ll be looking up at him on that podium tonight, when he’ll be a world champion.

“You will.”

Tag list

@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @max3verstappen @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @wcnorris @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @charllleclerc @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi i @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19 @jquinnmunson

[celestialglow24]

•••Promise Me•••

Frank Castle x AFAB reader

You finally see Frank again after months of being apart with no explanation.

hi friends. more Frank angst because this man has taken over my mind lately and i think you all should suffer with me. please enjoy xx

The walk back home from the restaurant wasn’t too bad of a trek. You had convinced yourself it’d be alot faster than waiting around for an uber, or bothering your cousin at 12 am to come down there and pick you up.

Was it wise? Probably not. But the multiple shots of liquid courage—fueled with the desire to take a long hot shower—gave you a sense of confidence no one would have been able to shake.

So you said your goodbyes to the group you were with, telling them a little white lie that your ride was here, and began walking home.

As the loud street music and bustling noise of downtown nightlife started to fade, that confidence began to wane.

It was really quiet out here, and no one was around from what you could tell. You could see the sign for a park a little ways ahead and that managed to level your nerves.

Your cousin’s apartment wasn’t too far from there and if you kept at the pace you were moving, you could get there in 10 minutes or so.

God you hated wearing heels. You’d yet to find a pair that didn’t make you want to cut off your feet and curse the ground after only a couple of hours of use.

There was a part of you that was half tempted to take them off and walk the rest of the way barefoot, but after already passing several broken bottles along the street, you decided you didn’t want to chance a night in the ER.

All things considered you were proud of yourself for going out tonight. It had been months since you’d done anything besides: work, sleep, eat, repeat.

Save for a few weekends now and then of binge watching a true crime doc with your cousin Lucy or a trip to the dog park with her dog Penny, you hardly allowed yourself any time to relax.

Anything to avoid your mind having the opportunity to think of him. To think of your past.

So when your coworker invited you out with people from your department to celebrate their recent promotion, you decided to let yourself enjoy a night out. You felt you had earned it.

You hadn’t been working for the company very long, but you got along with everyone pretty well. It was nice of them to include you.

It was certainly more fun than you expected to have but after your brain had tried multiple times to convince you that you’d seen someone that wasn’t there—someone who you hadn’t seen in months—you knew it was time to go.

6 months.

6 months and you still searched for him in a room full of people.

It was pathetic.

Even now, as you walked the nearly empty streets you felt him. You didn’t know how— and despite logic and reason battling with these inexplicable feelings— it still felt like you could sense his presence.

Yeah, this had to be the alcohol talking.

You tightened your trenchcoat around your torso in an effort to self soothe and offered a half smile to the few people you walked by on your way toward the park.

As you rounded the sidewalk, you pulled your phone out to text your cousin that you’d be home any minute. She was probably already sleeping but you wanted to give her the heads up anyway.

Anything to avoid her attacking you with a broom like she did the one time you got home late from work.

Just as you went to tuck your phone back in your coat pocket it slipped out of your hand, landing on the ground face down with a loud crack.

“Fuck” you cried, bending down to asses the damage. Thankfully you had a screen protector, so the actual screen was fine. But man you had done a number on it. The uneven cracks that splintered the screen made it difficult to read the time and notifications.

As you rose from your squatting position, you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye ducking behind a car across the street.

You felt your stomach drop.

Slowly… you stood up taller, squaring your shoulders and trying to steady your breathing. You calmly reached for the front clasp of your clutch, thanking any god or the universe that you managed to stow your taser earlier that night.

You chose not to make any sudden movements. Instead you waited. You waited for so long you were starting to question if you had seen anything at all. Maybe you misunderstood and it was the alcohol messing with your senses.

But when you saw the tip of a black hoodie through the window of the car you knew you weren’t losing it.

“Who’s there?” you shouted.

No response.

“Listen,” your voice shook, “I’m about 10 seconds away from dialing 911 so if you’re not interested in explaining to the cops why you’re sneaking up on -”

“Ain’t no need for all that.” You heard a voice call back.

Your breath stilled. As soon as the voice hit you, it was like the ground beneath you had been ripped away. You didn’t even feel like you were in your own body anymore.

You dug your nails into your palm, trying to startle yourself awake. Surely you had to be dreaming.

But when the figure stood and faced you, their hood falling back to reveal their face, you couldn’t deny what you were seeing.

There were so many emotions swelling inside you at once. Disbelief, disappointment, anger and relief.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel so many things at once.

Perhaps the most compelling was the realization that despite everything, you still felt love. So much love that it made you feel weak.

It almost made you forget everything that’s happened.

The feelings of abandonment. The nights of endless tears. The calls and messages that would never seem to go through.

Feelings of confusion. Of constantly wondering what you did wrong.

Questioning if any of it was ever as real to him as it was to you.

You could almost forget it all. Run right across the street into his arms. Hug him and kiss him over and over. Tell him how much you missed him. How much you need him. How much you forgive him if you could just be together again.

But as quickly as those thoughts teased your mind, the feelings of anger and betrayal enveloped you like an unrelenting wave.

You couldn’t allow the love you felt to erase the hell you’ve endured. You wouldn’t.

So you swallowed the tears that threatened to spill and turned away, making bigger strides to get back to your cousin’s apartment.

You could hear him shout your name but you kept moving.

He must have crossed the street because you could hear him calling directly behind you.

You didn’t stop. You didn’t say a word. You just kept moving.

Choosing to run was just plain stupid, but it was your only resort to get away fast.

Not only was it stupid because your feet hurt like hell and you were risking a face plant any second, but it was stupid because he was the fucking punisher.

Any attempt to try and outrun him was pointless. He’d be able to catch you before you could even finish your next thought.

“Hey!” he yelled, finally catching up to you and grabbing your arm. “Just hold up would you?”

“No!” you shouted, yanking yourself out of his grasp. You took a few steps backward and he held his arms up in defense.

At this point you know you looked like a mess. The hot tears you were trying to suppress had spilled over and you could taste the salt of them on your tongue.

You wanted to hate him. You wanted to hate him so much but seeing the pained look on his face broke your heart.

To be honest he looked like shit. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept in months. His beard was long and unkempt. It even looked like he’d lost weight. And his eyes, the biggest tell of all, were sad and empty.

“I just want to talk.” he spoke calmly.

You shook your head. “How did you find me?”

When you left the witness protection program you didn’t even tell Madani where you were going. She tried to pry it out of you, swearing that it was her duty as her job and as a friend to know. However, you wouldn’t budge.

The people that were after Frank had been taken care of according to Dinah. You didn’t want to continue living out the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.

So you thanked her for all of her help and you wished her the best, but you didn’t want any ties to your life back then. You didn’t want any more reminders of him.

“He asks about you, you know?” she had said during your last conversation. “Every week like clockwork. I haven’t told him anything. Just that you’re safe and happy.”

You scoffed, “Well at least one of those is true.”

She was silent for a moment. “I hope you can give yourself a chance to be happy again. Love doesn’t always look the way we want it to and life is hardly ever fair, but once we choose to accept the pieces we are given…. we can allow ourselves to move on.”

You know Dinah meant well. And you appreciated how close the two of you had gotten based on the circumstances. But you weren’t sure if you could agree with what she was suggesting. It felt impossible to move on when your whole body still ached for him.

“Thank you Dinah.” you relented, “Who knew you could be so therapeutic?”

“Just part of the charm.” she laughed.

A comfortable silence fell between you. You were sitting on the balcony of your cousin’s apartment, and for a brief second you felt a little bit of excitement at the opportunity to start over.

Your cousin had managed to get you a job and while it wasn’t exactly what you were doing before, it was familiar work.

You’d be working for a publishing company polishing and approving manuscripts. It was boring, monotonous work but it was safe.

You thanked Madani again and expressed the hope of following up again someday in the future.

Then you changed your number and disabled your emails.

You knew doing so wouldn’t stop them from being able to find you if they really wanted to. Her and Frank were both good for that. But it gave you a sense of control for now. That you were the one deciding to distance yourself this time and the choice wasn’t being made for you.

“Could we go some place to talk?”, his voice broke you out of the memory.

You crossed your arms.

“No. You don’t get to show up out of nowhere after months of silence expecting to just talk. I have nothing to say to you.”

The words that tumbled out of your mouth were meant to be delivered with strength and conviction. Instead, they sounded more like someone trying to convince themselves that they believed them.

“I can explain whatever you want. Just let’s get out of the cold here, there’s a diner not too far out.” he said, tilting his head back towards where you came from. “We could get a cup of co-”

“No, Frank, I want to stay right here.”

He closed his mouth, but you could tell he was trying to keep his composure. You were being stubborn and as much as you hated being in the cold, you didn't want to be around other people.

You didn’t want to take the chance of losing your shit while people were trying to enjoy their food in peace.

“I get that you’re angry, but there’s a lot you don’t understand. I was just trying to protect you.” he tried to reason.

“You left me Frank. You didn’t text, you didn’t call. You left me completely in the dark.” you cried, wiping angrily at your face to rid the tears that were escaping.

“Do you know how scared I was? Having strangers show up to my house and basically tell me I couldn’t exist as me anymore? I had to move and change my name. And the one person I needed more than anything—the one person who could make all of it feel okay— wouldn't even answer a damn phone call.”

You suddenly felt like you were back in the empty apartment Madani had set you up in. You hardly knew her before that day, she was just “someone who had worked with Frank before”, according to what she told you.

But she kept giving you this look. This look that both expressed the pity she felt for you and the wonder of how you ended up in a situation like this? How you managed to get mixed up in the world of Frank Castle?

But you had met him after he had left that life behind him. And according to him, the life that he was never going back to. Things had been good for so long that you never even questioned it until that day. Now you didn’t even know what was real.

“You were in danger alright? I had angered some really powerful people. I had hurt them, did things I’m not proud of and I wasn’t about to let you take the fall for it. You weren’t safe with me.”

“I was always safe with you!” you shouted, “Who else could’ve kept me more safe than you? We could’ve worked it out together, we could’ve came up with a plan—” you stopped as you watched Frank shake his head in disbelief, “What, Frank? What the fuck is that about?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Come up with a plan? Really?” he scoffed, “This isn’t team sports. It’s not some dumb escape room you sit around and solve clues in. It’s real fucking life.”

You looked down at your feet. The escape room comment was a low blow. It was something you loved doing and grumpy Frank hated. He’d go along with it if you planned it, not bothering to hide his disdain at first, but by the end of it you knew he had fun with you.

You didn’t think he’d throw it in your face as a means to mock you.

“Frank, we were partners. That’s what you do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “You work through things together. As a team. Not one person taking over and telling the other person what to do all the time, but see you didn’t ever want to do that did you? You didn’t think I was capable right?”

“Don’t go there.” he warned. You could see his hands start to twitch. In the past his agitation would have gotten you to dial it back a little. You hated fighting with him and it was never worth it.

But this time you didn’t care. You didn’t understand why he was the one so angry.

“Why not?” you probed, “You always made it seem like I was one mistake away from getting myself hurt.”

“That’s because you never took things seriously. You had no sense of danger. Too trusting, too carefree, too-”

“Stupid?” you interjected.

“I didn't say that.” he shot back. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to find some place to channel the tension. You could tell this was not how he wanted the conversation to be going either.

You couldn’t believe you were having this same fight. It was something you never got along about.

You tried to be understanding. You both had different life experiences and because Frank had a military background, he had been trained to look at things a certain way.

He was trained to look for a threat and “take it out before it took you”. Transitioning back to civilian life wasn’t always that simple. Those habits could be hard to unlearn.

It wasn’t always bad, but it wasn’t always necessary.

Not every stranger was a potential threat set out to hurt you.

Staying late at work didn’t mean you were in danger and someone was holding you hostage.

Interviewing a source for your upcoming news article didn’t immediately put a target on your back.

But Frank always anticipated the worst.

You know it was his way of expressing his love but it could be a lot at times. You just wanted to enjoy life together without always feeling like there was some danger lurking around the corner waiting to get you.

“Go ahead Frank,” you continued, “Let me hear how stupid it was for me to walk home by myself tonight. How naive it was to risk getting hurt when I should’ve called a cab.”

“I ain’t gonna act like it was a good idea, and up until a few minutes ago I’m sure you were realizin it wasn’t either.”

You let out a groan.

“I was almost home, besides I don’t think anyone would’ve tried anything with the big bad punisher stalking me.” you said, throwing your arms out dramatically.

“I mean really Frank, what was your plan? Were you just gonna jump out and shout surprise? Were you gonna follow me home to make sure no one grabbed me? Stare down the cars that drove past me? The people that passed me? What was the fucking point?”

For a moment he didn’t say anything.He kept his gaze down at his boots. The twitching of his hands had stopped, and the heavy rise and fall of his chest had slowed down.

“I needed to see you.”

The phrase was simple, but it held such weight.

You understood what he meant. You felt the desperation in his voice. And yet you couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling up.

“What about all the times I needed to see you? To hear your voice? Why didn’t I deserve the decency of a phone call, a text message, anything?”

“I couldn’t risk it.”

“Bullshit.” you spat. “You could risk asking Madani about me?”

His head shot up at that.

“Are we gonna do this all night?” he asked, the anger picking up in his voice again, “Huh? We’re gonna just keep yelling at each other? Who was right? Who was wrong?”

“Yes Frank because I’m angry with you! You made me feel unimportant. You made me feel helpless, like I had no control over my own damn life anymore.” You stepped closer, making sure he couldn’t avoid your eyes.

“You pushed me away like I meant nothing to you!” you shoved him.

“No.” he shouted, “I pushed you away because you meant everything to me!”

He turned away and let out a deep breath through his nose. The weight of his words slamming into you like a wrecking ball.

“Everyone I've ever cared about gets hurt because of me. Because of my demons. Because of the shit I've done to other people. I couldn't take that chance with you. They were so close to hurting you. I had to do something. That’s why I contacted Madani. That’s why we got you into witness protection.”

You felt the sting of the tears start to swell up again. From anger, frustration or sadness you couldn’t tell. Maybe it was all three.

“You want to know why I couldn’t say goodbye to you? Why I couldn’t call you? It’s because I knew—,” he paused and looked off to the side, “I knew that if I saw you—if I just heard your fucking voice—I’d change my mind.”

He finally locked eyes with you again, taking a step closer to you. He was testing it out, seeing how close you would let him get. To his surprise you didn’t move away.

“I couldn’t be selfish with you.” he said softly.

You didn’t know what to say. You knew the people that had been after Frank were relentless, but you never once feared for your life. Maybe there was more to it that he kept from you, and you wanted to trust him, but it didn’t diminish what you experienced while he was gone.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I hurt you. But I’m not sorry I did it because you’re safe. And I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but I’d do it again in a fucking hearbeat if it meant nothing would happen to you.”

“It’s just—.” your voice trembled and you bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t put the words together.

“What is it?” he asked gently, taking another step towards you. This time he was close enough he grabbed the bottom of your chin and tilted it up towards him.

“I really missed you and I didn’t think you cared about me anymore.” You choked.

Suddenly you felt yourself pressed up against his chest as he pulled you into him. “No baby, that’s not true.” he soothed.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, letting all the pent up emotions slowly release. God you forgot how good it felt to be held by him.

All the nights you longed for this very feeling. For him to hug you and kiss you and tell you everything was gonna be alright.

You could feel your unsteady breathing start to level out again and all the anger and frustration slowly disappear. It was as if he was a magnet, pulling out the deepest emotions you tried so hard to bury.

“I missed you so fucking much you have no idea.” He pulled back, tilting his head down to look at you.

You both locked eyes and without thinking twice you kissed him. He responded instantly, pulling you so tightly against him it was as if he was trying to swallow you whole.

That feeling people mention of the world standing still—you finally understood what that meant.

When you couldn’t breathe anymore you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.

“What does this mean, Frank?” you quietly asked. “Can we be together now? Do we just go back to the way things were before?”

He was quiet for a moment and you almost regretted asking the question.

“It’s whatever you want it to be sweetheart.” he finally answered, “You tell me.”

You weren’t sure what to say. One half of you wanted to be together again. The other half wasn’t so sure you should give in this easily.

What if it happened again? You didn’t doubt there were more people out there that’d like to see Frank Castle and the people he loved, hurt.

Would he push you away? You didn’t think you could survive it a second time.

“Frank, I love you. I want to be with you. But I need you to treat me like an equal. I want to be included in decisions. I don’t want to be kept in the dark again, it isn’t fair.”

Though he wasn’t speaking, you could tell the thoughts were churning in his head.

“If something like this comes up again I want to know about it. I want to have a say in how we handle it. Can you please promise me that?”

Frank let out a heavy sigh. He had to fight with the selfish side of him that wanted to say no. This shouldn’t even be something you have to worry about. He’s the one that should be responsible, not you.

But if he was being honest with himself these past several months were hell. He hated not being with you and maybe compromising would be the best thing to do after all.

He didn’t like making promises in general, but as he looked into your eyes he couldn’t bring himself to fight anymore. He needed to be with you just as much as you needed him too.

“Okay.” he agreed quietly.

“Promise me.” you urged again. You needed to hear him say it.

“I promise.”

You didn’t even realize how tense your body had become until you felt your shoulders relax. Frank pulled you into him again and you could feel the tension in him relax as well.

If anyone would have told you an hour ago you’d be standing in the middle of the street being held by Frank you would’ve told them they were crazy.

There were nights you never thought this moment would come. So as the two of you continued to stand there, holding onto each other. You realized there was probably nothing in this world that could match this feeling.

You would make sure that no matter what was waiting for you around the corner, you’d never let go again.

[cyborg-franky]

Comforting their partner

I think I needed this myself, who knows.

MODERN AU - SFW Ace x GN Reader Marco x GN Reader Rosi/Corazon x GN Reader

Ace

You’d been exchanging texts with Ace all day, and he knew you weren’t in a good place—stressed, tired, and burnt out. He spent most of his day sending you pictures of Stefan, his father's dog, and a large selection of dumb selfies and memes he’d collected.

It made you smile, made everything just a little less heavy to know he was right there for you even if you couldn't see him. You were so swamped with your chores and work that free time slipped through your fingers, leaving you further fatigued. 

You lay in bed, staring at your TV, feeling so sorry for yourself. Things just kept piling up, and you were about to burst from how much you stuffed down and pushed aside. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. You bit your lip, not wanting to just burst into tears. You looked at your phone and saw nothing. Ace hadn’t replied in over ten minutes.

Maybe he’d finally passed out or was playing another game with his brothers.

You could feel the sadness creeping in until there was a tapping on your window. You opened your eyes and stared at your curtains. The same tapping happened again, and you sat up, pulling them open and almost jumping. 

Ace was outside your window, having climbed the tree. He was waving with a huge grin on his face.

“The fuck, Ace?” you huffed at him when you opened the window, and he slid in, getting his foot stuck and falling onto the bed below with a laugh and looking up at you. “Well, sounded like you needed a shoulder to cry on,” he shrugged from where he was making himself comfortable on your bed, kicking off his boots. Both of you wincing when they thudded to the floor. 

You sighed, your anger melting away as he held his arms up. He made grabby hands as you slowly leaned in, letting Ace grab you and pull you down against him. He cuddled you up to his side, your head against his chest, and you heard the rumble of his voice and his heartbeat. You closed your eyes when you felt fingers running through your hair.

“You wanna talk about it some more?” he asked, and you shook your head, draping an arm over his waist and sighing, breathing in his smell. It was always comforting, like a warm fire on a cold night.

“Alright, wanna watch funny videos?” he suggested, and you nodded. He got comfy, arm around you, and phone in a position you could both watch. 

The night ended up in your boyfriend's arms, just the two of you, silly videos to entertain you and take you away from your troubled thoughts.

Marco

He’d been texting you when he got a spare moment at work and worried about how you felt. He felt bad he couldn’t duck out of work to come, scoop you up in his arms, and kiss the bad thoughts away.

But he listened to you, let you vent, and even gave advice when you asked for it.

Thanks to Marco, you were currently watching a comfort show, curled up on the sofa and cuddled up in blankets as you tried to let the show distract you enough. Every so often, you’d message him. He checked in on his breaks, and although Marco wasn’t here with you, you felt connected and cared for anyway. He spoke so soothingly and calmly, like a soft breeze.

It was evening by the time he came over, knocking on the door andamiling at you, his half-lidded eyes full of love as he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Come on, let's go for a ride,” he said, his car still running on the drive. You could hear his music faintly from the open window.

“Okay, where?” you asked as you grabbed your phone and keys and locked up. “Just around.” 

The wind ran through your hair, his hand on your thigh, and you both listened to your music as you cruised through the peaceful evening. You were just happy in one another's company, letting the night and his comforting aura chase away the sadness. 

He knew how much you needed to get away from the noise of the world around you, driving a little ways from the city, where the stars twinkled in the sky brighter than you were used to.

You soon pulled up to a late-night food place. Marco killed the engine, the music shutting off as he nodded for you to get out. “Let's get something to eat, or at least a coffee, yoi.” Marco smiled at you before getting out of the car.

Sitting in a quiet corner of the cafe, you both shared a plate of fries, not feeling super hungry. You sipped your drink of choice as he drank his coffee.

“So, want to tell me about what happened today?” he asked, his hand reaching across the table to find yours. The weight of his larger hand on yours calmed your jumbled mind enough to pick through the mental clutter. “Well… so this happened today, and I just am struggling with it… It’s silly though.” You said with a dry chuckle, thinking he would judge you for how dumb it was, how it didn’t feel like a real problem.

“Hey,” he squeezed your hand. “If it upset you, it’s not silly, okay?” You paused, thinking his words over, seeing the warmth of his smile. “Okay,” you nodded and talked it out with him.

Rosinante

He knew you’d had a rough time at work today; everything that could go wrong had. You were tired, exhausted, and struggling to deal with it. You messaged him on your lunch break, not wanting to vocalize what was wrong, just taking comfort in his messages.

All the heart emojis and silly selfies of him making a half-heart with his fingers, his big charming grin filling the screen as he beamed brightly. You sent one back, completing the heart he was sweet.

When you got home, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders, the bad feelings dragging you down, making your feet feel heavier. You opened the door and took a deep breath, trying to feel better about just being home and away from the job that stressed you out,

“Hey!” Rosi said, a smile on his handsome face as he stood up, towering over you. He pulled you into a hug, keeping you close and not letting go. He didn’t want to pull away first. He wanted to give you the hug you needed.

When you managed to fight the urge to cry, you peered up at him and got a kiss on the forehead.

“I have something to cheer you up…” He said with a wink. Pulling away, he nodded to the basket on the table.

You looked through it: comfort snacks you loved, a movie you wanted to see for ages, and other little bits and pieces that he knew you loved, including a plushie you held to your chest and smiled back at him. “Thank you so much, Rosi. I love you.” I love you too, and I hope it helps even a little!

You spent the evening cuddled on the sofa, happily eating your snacks, wrapped in a blanket, watching the movie he’d bought. Rosi gently rubbed your leg, trailing fingertips up and down your skin to keep you relaxed and calm.

He knew you’d talk about it when you were ready. He was never the type to push or ask, knowing that when you felt up to it, you’d talk it out with him, and when you were ready to share, he was ready to help you. He took your hand and brought it to his face, kissing your knuckles. “How do you feel?”

“Much better, thank you.”

[yeeterthek33per]

Careful (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

It was hot.

That was an understatement.

It is fucking hot.

The heat wave that'd hit London just a day earlier was predicted, and yet it was still a lot. Even for an Aussie such as yourself who'd grown up in the gross heat of Brisbane.

The warmups were a nightmare, and it was prediscussed by the officials that there would be set water and ice breaks for both teams.

For whatever reason, you'd forgone having much water after warmups, leaving you stuck feeling a little dehydrated during the first twenty minutes.

The game was rough, which certainly didn't help either. The late afternoon sun was beading down heat on your slightly bloodied up shins.

Unfortunately, you were one to wear your socks low, so you copped more studs than either of you girlfriends liked.

That being said, it feels like your blood is being cooked under the radiation from above.

Running around the field in a black shirt and shorts made you question everything, that's for certain.

The moment the whistle for the water break is blown, you duck into the shade by the bench, immediately grabbing an ice towel and a cold bottle from the cooler, dousing yourself with the cooling liquid.

Katie plonks down next to you.

"You alright?"

You nod.

"About as fine as it gets on this lovely thirty-seven degree afternoon. You?"

"Sweating my non-existent balls off, but what else is new?"

You laugh at that, clapping her on the shoulder before standing again. There's a little whooziness from the sudden movement, but you brush it off.

You join the noticably distanced huddle, standing beside Caitlin who shifts to let you in to the circle.

"Alright ladies, we're doing well out there, but we need to take more caution with those midfielders. They're wedging themselves between you, and that's not what we want. Make sure you're tight on them. Don't let those through balls get to them so easily. Strikers, I need you back when you can be. Leave those extra leads for when we're one hundred percent certain we can break that defensive line. That's the only way we're beating them today. Other than that, perfect work, all of you. Remember to track back where you can, watch that mid, keep it tight. Team on three."

"1.2.3 Team!"

You all disperse, tossing the now warmed ice towels to the sideline and running back out onto the pitch, the sun immediately returning it's assault on all of you.

What you don't notice is the concerned glance from Steph, who now sees the paleness of your face. Your sweating was a concerningly low amount, especially in this heat.

Regardless, the game plays on.

Half time can't come quick enough in your opinion.

You start feeling like the world is spinning a little... differently than what it should. Regardless, you shake your head and press on.

The number of times you hit the ground increases as it gets closer to the end of the first half, leaving you to struggle more and more to get up after each tackle.

At one point, you have to accept the hand up from Kim, who gives you a mildly concerned look as you stumble a little trying to jog back to position, but you wave the older woman off.

Thanking god for the whistle, finally blowing for half time, you make your way off the pitch, hoping the wave of nausea that came over you about two minutes ago would go away.

Making your way into the heavenly air-conditioned locker rooms, you find yourself collapsing a little heavy-handed onto your cubby chair, water bottle in hand.

The noise attracts a few concerned eyes, but you quickly straighten up, avoiding meeting your girlfriend's gaze, who stays watching you for a little longer.

You know Steph's just worried, but you can't help not wanting her to be. Especially not during games.

What you couldn’t see was the exchanged look she shared with your other girlfriend, who had seen your pale face when you'd stood in the circle next to her during the drink break earlier.

You weren't sweating nearly enough for it to be healthy, and they hadn't seen you pick up a drink after warmups when everybody else had, but they'd both brushed it off thinking they'd just missed seeing it.

Now though, they were worried you hadn't been careful with this weather.

Avoiding slouching too much, despite your exhausted muscles' protests, you take slow, small sips of water, not wanting to completely kill your stomach, especially not when the nausea was starting to lesson off now that you were cooling off again.

Your head was starting to hurt now, too, a heat headache setting in. Using the supplied wet cloths, you tried your best to keep away throbbing in your temples, which seemed to worsen the moment you were all told to head back out to the pitch.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump as you walk out onto the pitch again. You relax a bit before tensing up at the look she gives you.

"You doing alright, puddin?"

You nod, covering a wince as the pounding worsens at the movement.

"I'm doing fine. Let's get back to it, yeah?"

Jogging back to position, you shake off the jelly feeling in your legs, brushing it off as just lactic acid setting in and push it down like everyone else does.

It's just twenty minutes later, after a much more scrappy start to the second half, you realise, oh shit, maybe this might be bad.

Struggling to get up for a third tackle in four minutes, you stumble to your feet again, waving off your now slightly fussing teammates, your girlfriends in particular.

"Y/n... maybe you should go off -"

You shake your head no immediately.

"I'm fine, it's only twenty minutes left anyway, I'll be fine. It's just muscular exhaustion setting in, I can push it."

Turns out, you could not, in fact, push it.

Just five minutes later, after receiving a wayward pass from the backs and turning to send it into the box, you're wiped out from behind by one of their midfielders, earning a free kick for your team.

Unfortunately, you hit the turf a little harder than you expected, and it completely winds you.

You take a second to get up, stumbling to your feet to move so Katie can set up for the free kick.

Before you can make it back to your full stance though, the nausea and woosiness come back full force and you collapse like a sock of rocks, vision blurring heavily as you fall, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist stopping you from hitting your head, but your vision still goes dark for a few moments.

A frantic whistle blowing and several bodies surrounding your own is what brings you back, the pounding in your head far worse as your chest rises and falls with laboured breaths.

The moment you went down, Caitlin and Steph are beside you, frantically calling the ref and medics over, and that's where everything goes dark again.

--------------------------

Everything feels like a blur to you, and you don't fully come to for a long time. Which scares the crap out of your girls. It's not until you're laid on a bed in the paramedic's office of the stadium that you fully regain consciousness.

You feel like absolute crap. Everything feels limp and achey as you shift on the cheap cushioning.

Both of your partners are sat on stools beside you. The doctor is sitting at the desk, writing on some paperwork.

"How you feeling, baby?"

"Like shit, what happened?"

They both frown at that, and the team doctor's head perks up at your answer.

Steph cautiously takes your hand.

"You don't remember how you got here? Or what happened?"

It's a little fuzzy and strain as you might. You don't recall anything that might indicate why you're in a doctor's office. You just feel like shit and are wondering why you couldn't remember anything past getting up again after being tackled.

You wrack your brain a bit more, realising you'd felt like you were practically melting under the heat. Was that why? Had you collapsed? Or had you been taken out? You remember copping a few tackles during the game.

"I- not really. Did I get knocked out or something?"

"Uh, no Y/n, it was heat exhaustion. You collapsed during the game. Can you tell me what might’ve happened beforehand?"

He moves to stand by you as well, clipboard in hand.

Furrowing your brows, you try to think back, but the pounding in your head makes it difficult.

"Not really, I just remember copping a few bad tackles. That's it, really. That and just feeling, I don't know, hot? It's just fuzzy after half time."

The doctor's brow creases slightly in thought, leaving a worried expression on both of your girlfriend's faces.

"That's alright, we can try again later, we'll keep you on watch with the medics at your training centre overnight in case anything comes up."

"In case anything comes up? Is she gonna be okay?"

The question out of Caitlin's lips makes him look up with a reassuring smile.

"It's perfectly normal for people who pass out to not remember the incident itself for a bit. It's just as a precaution. She should be fine."

She nods, and you let your head rest back on the pillows.

"Keep drinking water for us, I'll be back in about twenty to check on you. As for you two, I recommend you both go wind down from the game, take your showers, do what you need to do."

They both go to protest.

"Or if you wanna take turns, your bus will be leaving soon. We'll arrange for her to get transported back to the training centre."

Reluctantly agreeing, Steph moves to go shower and change first, Caitlin stubbornly still gripping your hand.

"I'm alright baby, you can go clean up."

But try as you might, she still refuses.

"I'm not leaving you here on your own."

You smile softly, thumb caressing her hand gently, though it turns into a slight grimace. Having your eyes open at this point is a bit of a struggle.

"You wanna tell me what happened now, or am I wrestling it out of Kimmy later?"

Caitlin shakes her head.

"Hush baby, at least wait until Steph gets back, and we'll tell you. Just rest your head for now."

You hum softly, letting your eyes fall closed again. You must drift off for a moment because it's Steph who gently shakes you awake again.

"Hey, no sleeping just yet, baby."

A soft grumble leaves your lips.

She runs her fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp, and it helps relieve the throbbing a little, to the point where you fully lean into her touch.

Pouting when she pulls away, you grab her hand and put it back again, which makes her chuckle softly, moving to sit next to you the bed.

"Still bad?"

Nodding slightly in response, you tuck your head into her lap and turn onto your side, letting her continue to comb through your hair.

"So, do I get to know how it happened?"

"We've gotta see what you remember first, baby. Let the doctor do his thing."

The whine from you makes her sigh softly.

"I know, but I wanna know what happened, though."

"You'll find out later, babe."

You look up at her, wincing at the blinding light of the office LEDs.

"But-"

She gives you a stern look but her tone remains soft.

"Patience, Y/n."

Huffing softly, you cuddle back into her lap, nose buried into the skin of her stomach where her shirt's ridden up slightly.

Her hand continues its ministrations while you wait for the doctor and Caitlin.

--------------------------

You do end up staying at the training facility. As the night progresses, and the pain lessens slightly with mild painkillers, the event comes back a little fuzzy, but not entirely. You vaguely remember actually conversing with your girlfriend's in the doctors office for a while before you fully came to.

That's probably what had them so concerned in the first place that you weren't fully with it. They end up allowing one of your girlfriend's to stay while the other goes home to rest, but, knowing Caitlin, she'd be up pacing a hole in the floor anyway, most likely texting Steph the whole time.

Being woken every two hours with a killer headache until eight the next morning wasn't pretty to witness. Your girlfriend winced every time the medic received a grumpy swipe as they woke you to quiz you in the middle of the night.

You would later feel bad, knowing they were only doing their jobs, but your beauty sleep is your beauty sleep, dude.

It's about nine the next morning that you're allowed to go home under the condition that if you nap at all, you're to be woken every two hours and if anything worsens, you're to go straight to a hospital over the next few days.

Your girlfriends are also under strict instruction to make sure you actually drink water for once.

You do get a visit from the girls over the next day or so, making sure you're alive still and not going totally batshit crazy. You also do eventually find out what happened.

"God babe, you just crumpled. Like, you got wiped the fuck out and when you tried to shrug it off and get up ready for the set piece, you just fell again. Lucky McCabe caught you or it would've been a worse head injury I reckon."

"Really? What happened after I passed out? Because I don't remember anything after that, just vaguely some conversation in the doctors office before he assessed me."

Steph's hand rests on your leg from beside you, squeezing softly.

"That's what was a little scary. You were talking to us. Conversing with us. You complained you were feeling way too hot. But then you kind of, I guess, come to a bit more. It's like you weren't even awake before."

Caitlin nods.

"You know you really gave us all a heart attack out there."

Sighing softly, knowing you'd been too stubborn to admit it, maybe you needed to be subbed off.

Steph rubs your shoulder.

"You just need to be more careful, babe, especially in a heat wave like this. We hadn't even seen you drink water when you should have after warmups."

There's a guilty look on your face.

"It was just a minor mistake, that's all."

The incredulous look you receive makes you wince slightly.

"Okay, minor mistake, slightly less minor consequences, yeah, I know."

They both shake their heads, Caitlin moving to sit beside you, arm around your shoulder, Steph moving her arm around your waist.

"Look, baby, we know you were trying to push through. But we love you, and we don't like seeing you hurt. Just be more careful, yeah?"

You nod your head in agreement and let it fall to rest on the brunettes shoulder, her hand tightening on your waist, to which you squeeze her leg comfortingly.

She was right. You were a dipshit at the time and totally put your life at risk because of some stupid game time. And you scared the life out of your family and friends whilst you were at it too.

They couldn't bear to see you like that. Neither could you frankly.

Never again.

--------------------------

[baylz]

CHAPTER FOUR: apricity

main masterlist | now playing: Pink Moon by Nick Drake

Y/n had spent half the night successfully avoiding him. Every time she was even slightly in his line of vision, she would immediately duck under the table, acting as if she had dropped a spoon or even started an unnecessary conversation when she knew absolutely nobody there.

It was strange. This was strange. Why was he everywhere?

Y/n thought the only thing she’d have to worry about today was not making a fool of herself, but now she had to make sure to avoid an old one night stand from college. And dropping out of 5 story bathroom window was completely out of the question.

The night had passed in her favor and she was quick to make her way to the elevator. Pressing the button, she waited. It wasn’t long before there was a ding! and the stainless steel doors slid open for her. Selecting the first floor, it makes another noise and the doors began to whir closed.

The wall was cold when she leaned against it and it dawned on her that her jacket was still hanging on the back of her chair inside the banquet hall. She groaned, being on her feet all day and having to possibly having to go up and down was not something she was looking forward to. She contemplated on going back to get it or just simply sprinting to her car the minute she left the building. Fortunately for her, there was a third option.

Which was the hand that jammed itself between the elevator doors from shutting completely. A panting Akaashi with his cracked glasses askew, blue veins visible from the amount of force he was putting into pushing the door all the way to let himself in wasn’t the sight she was expecting for the evening. “Sorry to surprise you after your not to subtle attempts to ignore me tonight, but you left your jacket.” He huffed, holding out the forgotten item to her.

She recieved him with a sympathetic look as she pulled it onto her body. Eternally grateful for the warmth that enevloped her and stopped the shivering she didn’t even notice. The elevator had jerked to a stop, the machine rumbled and suddenly it was hard to stand.

As if on instinct or maybe out of panic, the two clinged to each other as the metal box shook. Y/n shamefully allowed Akaashi to hold her, hands gripping to front of his cashmere sweater with her head tucked under his chin. She wasn’t sure who did what first. All she knows right now was the security he provided her until the world around them went still.

“Is it done?” She asked, eyes squeezed shut. She’s never been scared of elevators but this definitely unlocked a new fear.

“I think so.” And she didn’t analyze the tone of his voice or the way he still held onto her when there was no need for it anymore.

“We should probably call for help or something.”

The people on the phone had said they’ll do their best to be there so now all they could do was wait. It was quiet. Plopped on the floor, Y/n kept herself busy with a word puzzle while Akaashi scribbled away in his journal across from her. It was still freezing and she would occassionally blow the warmth back into her frozen hands.

“What is a word that means warmth of the sun in winter?”

He looked around as if there could be anyone else in the room she could’ve possibly been speaking to, slightly surprised to be acknowledged after an hour of silence and secret glances. Mostly from him.

“Um, apricity.”

“Apricity.” She repeated, testing the sound and writing the word down. “That’s pretty, I like it.”

Keiji’s gaze flickered between the girl the infront of him and his journal. He thought about the last time he had seen her and how he lost his chance at apologizing to her. He contemplated on it. I mean it’s not like she wasn’t not open to talking to him? But what if that was all she wanted from him? God, he was overthinking this way too much. If Kuroo or even Bokuto were here they would’ve squashed any of the thoughts he was thinking right about now.

He could picture them on each side of him. Practically slapping pats of encouragment on his back with their “just go with it!” attitude that always stupidly worked somehow. He felt stupid too. If it were anyone else it would be easy, but he always somehow always seemed to make of fool of himself when she was involved. Akaashi sighed as he looked at her still playing her cross word puzzle. The one she magically pulled out the minute they sat down. Though, with how spacious her bag looked, he wouldn’t be surprised she pulled out the oxford english dictionary as another way to ignore him.

Here goes nothing.

“Y/n I—”

“Anyone in there?” A voice boomed from the other side of the shut doors. Their heads perked up at the sound and y/n scrambled to collect her things and stand. “Yes, we’re in here!” She called out, trying not to sound desperate to get out as she was. Although all she really wanted to do right now was to be home wrapping in a blanket and out of these fuck ass but fabulous heels.

The trap had been cranked open and revealed some men from the fire department. One with tan skin and a rough stubble gestured between the two with a raised brow, “Alright, so who’s going first?”

Side by side they stroll out the building into the parking lot. The harsh autumn breeze hits them all at once and Y/n feels the goosebumps form on her bare legs. Her teeth chatter, rummaging her purse for her keys and listening for the beep. Thank god, her car wasn’t too far from where she was.

The leaves crunched beneath their feet as they continues to walk along the pavement. Disregarding the cold, it felt good to move after sitting for so long. Late night fall walks have always been her favorite thing anyway. “You know, you don’t have to walk me. It’s freezing and the faster you get to your car the faster you can heat it up.” They were already towards the end of the parking lot and Akaashi hadn’t left her side yet.

“I wanted to apologize.” He confessed, stopping when they reached a black miniature vehicle. Y/n turned to look at him, “About what?”

“For scaring you that night. I never got to properly explain myself, but I noticed you were in danger and I simply wanted help. I saw the person drive off and I saw where you went, so I wanted to check on you. I’m really sorry for causing any distress.” He was rambling and he knew that, but it has been eating at him for days. He clasped his shaking hands close to his mouth to hopefully calm his nerves. He didn’t know why he was so nervous.

He was half expecting her to lash out and drive away. Instead, he felt something almost as soft as a mitten touch his frigid fingers. He peered to see what was it.

It was Y/n.

She pulled his hands towards her, placing something in his palms before holding them shut. They were touching and Akaashi couldn't wrap his head around the sudden affection. He felt impossibly hot as she smiled at him, bright and pretty under the street lights. The wind gently blew her hair against her face and it was so cinematic the way that it played out. If Akaashi had the choice, he would never stop pressing rewind.

“Thank you for helping me.”

She got into her car after that and Akaashi watched as she pulled off, waving a goodbye before driving away. Once she was gone, he opened his hands to see what she had given him.

A pocket warmer.

Even so, he felt a little colder than he did moments ago.

NEXT CHAPTER

TAGLIST: [CLOSED] 50/50 @snorelexa @rrinkyoo @justanotherbimboslxt @neptunes-secret-garden @gigiiiiislife @akaakeis @giocriedpower @moonschocolate @aliensstolemyheart @milffiz @httpakkeiji @ryuverse @howsurjune @laughingfcx @cosmiicdust @moucheslove @sunsribn @anqelkoz @alexithemiyatic @tangyangie @your-mum3000 @cupidsblonde @renardiererin @k0z3me @cr4yolaas @atsumuenthusiast @nobodybutnnoorr @yumiecheesecrackers @rivaiken @iamflav @v3nusplanetofluv @naviaberries @fuji-sen @izanacult @linmabbe @ghostreader0307 @madiexuberant @rory-cakes @gsyche @kisses4kei @asthmaticcchoeee @moondrop-gummies @r4veeen @c4ttheart @hanatsuki-hime @stilletoed @mimisweetz @ji9sstar @kukkurookkoo @minimarkive

[comment if you want to be removed!]

© BAYLZ 2024 | PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST MY WORKS ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS TO CLAIM AS YOURS

[autisticlancemcclain]

One Saturday morning, as Keith and Lance descend the stairs on their way to the kitchen — as Keith practically carries a still half-asleep Lance, that is — Marcela whips towards them, points a scolding finger in their direction, and says, “I am tired of checking in on you two at night and seeing my son, sprawling over half the bed, while poor Keith clings to the edge. No more.”

Keith’s heart drops to his toes, pounding all the way down. His ears billow out and then fade slowly, like someone turned the volume down. He feels like a beyblade someone just spun and dropped onto the pavement, dizzy and sharp and sparking, trembling to a stop. For several horrifying moments he’s convinced that this may very well be it, and he’s shocked by his own surprise. He’s usually so prepared for the eventual end of someone’s affection, for the patience to run out, for the boot to kick him on the way out the door. It’s startling to realise how far he’s let his defences drop with the Esposita-McClains.

Dangerous.

But then Keith processes the entirety of her sentence, hears past “I’m tired of” and “Keith” in the same sentence. He sees her narrowed eyes and chiding finger and playful exasperation pointed at Lance’s guilty grin, not at Keith, and he realises she is exasperated by the fact that Lance takes up the whole bed every night Keith sleeps over, not that Keith sleeps over at all.

He unclenches his fist from the hem of Lance’s shirt. He’s not sure if Lance does it on purpose, but he leans farther into Keith, and the pressure helps ground him, helps him breathe again.

“I really don’t mind,” Keith mumbles. He keeps his eyes averted, unwilling to meet her knowing ones. “Lance isn’t that bad.”

Marcela snorts, ruffling his hair as she walks by to set the milk on the table. “Please, Keith. He’s a nightmare to sleep with and he knows it. He had to have those little toddler rails on the sides of his bed until he was seven years old because he kept falling off.”

Lance makes a noise of protest at the embarrassing anecdote. Keith smiles, patting his back slightly.

“He does drool.”

“And kick,” says Lance’s older sister Veronica, ducking into the kitchen to grab an apple. Rachel, his other sister, is right behind her, and she pipes up too.

“He also grinds his teeth!”

“And mutters freaky things. He said he was going to curse me once.”

“Oh, yeah, and there was the deal with the sleeping sitting up!”

“And there was —”

“Alright, girls,” Marcela interrupts, leaning over to hold down the hand Lance has clenched around a fork before he has a chance to launch breakfast at his sisters. She looks to have intervened in the nick of time, which makes Keith smile into his cereal. “Let’s not make your brother homicidal.”

Both girls leave the kitchen snickering. Lance’s face promises revenge. For their sake, Keith hopes they find a way to lock their room door, but somehow he doubts it. A part of him is intrigued about whatever scheme Lance will inevitably rope him into.

“I really am fine, though,” Keith repeats once calm has returned to the morning again. “I once had to sleep in a home that usually had more kids than beds, so Lance’s kicking is a significant improvement from a sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.”

He hadn’t meant for his comment to be upsetting. It wasn’t great, sure, but he’d had a roof over his head and food to eat, and he’d only been there for a couple days. The whole situation was funny in hindsight, hilarity inherent in the absurdity of his neon green sleeping bag next to the magnet-covered fridge, and that’s how he’d meant the comment. A joke.

But Marcela looks horrified, and Lance leans over to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and wrap their hands together, and Keith realises he’s most definitely made a mistake.

“Kidding,” he tries anyway, but the damage is done. The determination in Marcela’s eyes becomes even more apparent, and she nods twice as if reassuring herself. Keith could kick himself.

“Be ready in twenty minutes,” she says resolutely. “We’re going out.”

———

In twenty minutes they’re in the car. Lance almost has his voice back by then, too, which is great, because Keith feels like he’s going to lose his — he’s expecting a fancy air mattress, really. At most he’s expecting to be delegated to his own space in the pull out couch or something. And even that is more than he ever thought he’d get. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves it, or anything like that. He knows that some of his living situations have been less than ideal, in the past few years.

But he…he’s not part of this family. He’s not supposed to be, anyway. He’s someone Lance dragged home someday, someone Lance latched onto and then everyone else seemed to follow his example. Keith knows his current foster family gets a cheque for an amount he’s too afraid to find out every month. He knows the state government pays people to home and house and feed him because no one else will. That’s how it’s been since that’s what it had to be.

He cannot understand what logic has inspired Marcela and Lance and all the Esposita-McClains, really, to home and house and feed him. He doesn’t understand.

He’s not expecting a forty minute drive to Ikea. He doesn’t understand why so much is being extended for him. He’s not expecting the determination in Marcela’s face and the way she holds Keith in one hand and Lance in the other, tightly, as if both are her children, until Lance whines and pulls himself free to come hold Keith’s other hand, as if he’s the commodity.

Keith doesn’t understand.

This is not how things are supposed to go.

This is never how things end up going. Not ever in a million years or even less.

“We should get a bunk bed!” Lance says excitedly, pulling Keith out of his thoughts and in a random direction. Marcela squeezes Keith’s hand once and lets go to allow it, stepping to the side to grab on of the boxy blue shopping carts.

Lance brightens even further when she brings over the cart, hopping onto the end of it and gesturing for Keith to do the same. Keith looks at the cart, then at Lance, then at the wheels, then at the total lack of space beside him, and imagines Marcela hitting the tiniest bump as they cram onto the little ledge and then them going flying.

He wisely chooses to walk over and grab the handlebar next to Marcela. She extends her pinky to rest next to Keith, which makes several emotions that he refuses to identify rise up in his throat.

“Let’s maybe consider our other options,” Marcela suggests as she pushes the cart farther. “You remember when we stayed over at your primo’s house when we first moved? You hit the ceiling every single morning because you could never remember that it was there. I don’t think bunk beds are for you, mijo.”

“And the toddler rail thing,” Keith adds. He’d meant it seriously — Lance has genuinely fallen a few times and Keith has had to drag him back up — but Lance huff-laughs in the way that he does when Keith teases him and he’s annoyed that he finds it funny, and Marcela straight up laughs. Keith meets Lance’s eyes and smiles to soften the unintentional dig.

“Fine,” Lance laments, dramatically leaning backwards on the rail. “We’ll just get boring normal beds I guess. Ooooou, we should get some bookshelves! Then Keith has somewhere to put all his nerd things.”

Marcela turns the shopping cart so quickly it screeches and nearly flings Lance right off, speeding towards the shelving area. Keith hurries to keep up.

“Excellent idea, Lancito. Bribing him to stay for longer. You’re so smart.”

Lance preens. Keith looks rapidly between them both, trying to find the joke, but there isn’t one. They, genuinely and truly, want to redesign Lance’s entire room to entice Keith to stay. However much it will cost, and Keith knows it will be a lot, they are doing more than what is reasonable to ensure they (not just Lance! All of them! The household!) can spend more time with Keith.

It’s baffling.

Try as he might, Keith simply cannot find a motive. He watches, gobsmacked, as Lance and Marcela hem and haw their way through the biggest furniture outlet chain in the world, comparing sturdy wooden shelving and colourful bean bag chairs and dorky spaceship themed beds, redesigning a whole room from scratch.

He startles out of his thoughts at Marcela’s beckoning, walking over to the display table she and Lance are illegally sitting at (there is a giant FOR VISUAL DISPLAY ONLY sign on it that they have ignored), half hunched over her cell and a pad of paper. “Keith, rojo, come here. We need you to sketch out the basics of Lance’s room so we know what fits. Marco is measuring the walls and everything right now. Don’t worry about anything that’s already in there, I think we’re taking it all out to paint it anyway. You like blue, right?”

Keith swallows roughly. He does like blue. He’s never painted his own room before.

“Yeah,” he manages, finally squishing down next to Lance on his chair.

Following Marco’s directions, he sketches out the foundations of the bedroom, marking the big window and weirdly narrow door and closet that Lance never uses because he has it piled full of stuff he doesn’t use but can’t bring himself to give away. The sketch is then used as a sort of map as they wander around the outlet, holding it up to various pieces of furniture and assessing how they would fit. It takes Keith some time, but after several hours of Lance’s energy and Marcela’s excitement, Keith starts to get hyped.

“Gasp!“ Lance says out loud, because he is a dork. He reaches a flapping hand over to Keith’s without looking, slapping him on the shoulder several times before finally managing to grip onto his sleeve. “Keith! Keith! Look!”

Keith squints in the direction Lance is emoting at. “A couch,” he says slowly, trying to figure out what warrants the intense excitement.

Honestly, it might be the couch. Lance got super excited about bar stools, earlier, so anything really goes.

“No no, farther!”

Keith squints harder. “The countertops?”

“Farther!”

“The…vases?”

“No! Farther!” Finally Lance gets frustrated enough to step behind Keith, gently pressing his palms to Keith’s cheeks and guiding his head in the right direction. “Now squint really hard and get excited with me.”

Keith tries. He sees grey blobs and says nothing, allowing the silence to speak for him.

“The stuffies, Keith! They’re sharks and hippos! Mama, Keith needs glasses.”

“I know,” she says at the same time that Keith says “No, I don’t.”

They stare at each other for several moments.

“As soon as you’re on the insurance,” she says levelly.

“I will feed them to a creek,” Keith promises.

He has never been this stubborn to Marcela before. He didn’t even mean to. If he had known he was going to say it he would have kept his mouth shut, but the words kind of bubbled out of him. He waits for her eyes to harden, her shoulders to square, for the annoyance to become evident at his insolence.

But she only snorts, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “I got Marco to wear them. I got Lisa to wear them. I got my mule of a husband to wear them. If you need them, you will not out-stubborn me, toro.”

Keith shrugs. If she’s that hellbent on getting to know him, she’ll learn, he supposes.

By the time the time they break their intense eye contact, they realize that Lance has already wandered off towards the stuffed animals, and hasten to follow him (he gets lost easy). Lance is already halfway into this big bucket, digging for something specific.

“This is for you,” he says when he finally unearths himself, handing a hippo to Keith. “Smaller than the others, like you, and the fluff is a little matted but it’s softer than the others. The shark is for me because it was stuck on the hippo like I’m stuck on you.” He playfully checks Keith’s hip, giggling at his own joke, but Keith’s eyes are totally glued onto the wonky little hippo plushie in his hands. He holds it loosely, afraid of crushing it, and stares intensely at the matted fluff on the one side, the tangled mess of the little poof at the tail. He tries three times to swallow and fails each time, lump in his throat taking up too much space.

“We’re too old for stuffies,” he finally manages. He gives himself away by how tightly he holds the soft things in his hands.

Lance snorts. “Yeah, well, you’re a massive dweeb, so I think we’re fine.”

“I think they’ll be wonderful additions to your room,” Marcela says with finality, and that is that.

———

By the time they make it out of the maze that is Ikea, pack up the car, and set out on the ride home, it’s well after eight thirty. And Keith isn’t a baby, and neither is Lance, and they have a later bed time than that, but…

They’ve been walking around all day. There has been a lot of expended energy.

They’re tired.

Keith remembers being finagled into playing double-o seven with Lance in the back seat. He remembers losing. He remembers poking Lance in the cheek as he yawned just to hear him squawk.

He remembers nothing but the feeling of Lance’s warmth pressed against his, after that, and the seatbelt digging into his neck, and the numbness of his legs. Then he remembers nothing until he felt the familiar bump of the Esposita-McClain driveway, until he cracked open his eyes to see that they were home and closed them quickly again, hoping he wouldn’t be made to get up, still mostly asleep.

“Should we bother setting up the new beds?” comes a whispered voice, deeper and male.

“No, no,” comes another, higher and softer. “They can sleep together for tonight. You take Lancito. I’ll take Keith.”

He is awake enough to feel soft fingers brushing through his hair, then jostling, then heavy breathing beside his ear and the swaying of being carried. He falls fully asleep again against Marcela’s shoulder, leaning his weight onto her fully, forgetting to keep awake for the walk to their room. He stirs slightly again as he’s set down onto something soft, as he feels the familiar tug of Lance’s finger’s against the fabric of his shirt, the sound of his slow breathing.

“Goodnight, estrellitos,” comes the same whispered voice from earlier, and it’s the last thing Keith remembers before he slips away into sleep.

———

other parts in this universe: 1 2 3

[luc1fersducky]

Lucifer Morningstar with an autistic reader (GN)

a/n: hai 🫶 keeping you all fed while i write some smutty smut for you horny little sinners 🫣 but honestly i may just be self projecting here cos my autism is quite an important thing in my life

~ SO.. we all heard the news of this man being canonically autistic, right..? we all saw viv confirm it?

so like... hear me out.. his new partner being autistic does just fall hand in hand because youre both just so understanding of each other.. and imagine if his partner hasn't been understood enough 🥹 our boy is straight on the case!

~ TEXTURES ARE SUCH A BIG DEBATE IN THIS HOUSE. like, you found a blanket in the store thats not only weighted, but this beautiful red colour and such a soft texture, and you FREAKED OUT over it. immediately running to show him with a massive smile on your face and jumping about so eagerly to show him.

While he's offended at first that he can't keep you wrapped up in his wings (this is a topic we'll discuss later in this.), he's heading STRAIGHT to but it for you.

There's a texture either of you don't like? it's gone within hours. Carpet's rubbing along your feet as you walk in all the wrong ways? you bet he's calling somebody to replace it with a more suitable texture.

~ THIS ALSO GOES FOR FOODS. as an autistic person with safe foods, i will 100% NOT be happy if im out of my safe food on a bad day.

So when you're having dinner, for example, and a particular food's got that metally taste that you just can't stand, he can tell simply by the look of discomfort

so he's INSTANTLY getting those safe foods on standby, distracting you as best as he can from the icky parts. poor baby's got to make sure his angel's not going through all of this alone like he most likely has for years :(

(one of his safe foods is 100% pancakes, not up for debate. like this is made for breakfast ON THE DAILY, or a midnight snack after a meltdown)

~ speaking of meltdowns, this sweetheart is a star with them.. whether it be a sensory overload, or an emotion going into overdrive. he's clueless at first sometimes, he can't help that he was half asleep!!

but once he's given it a minute of prolonged eye contact, he's very quickly spotted the signs. He's getting all the comfort objects and foods you can think off, and if the wings comfort you; you're 100% getting wrapped in them like a wing burrito!

If it was the noises possibly overwhelming you, I can imagine that the wings would DEFINITELY be an excellent alternative for ear defenders as well as a comfort object, the fluff easily relaxing you.

and if you struggle to sleep after said meltdown, he's softly lulling you to sleep with sweet little whisper songs, as to not overwhelm you with the noises more (even with the wings). what a gentle boy he is 🥹🫶

~ MY FAVOURITE PART. THE SPECIAL INTERESTS. have you seen this man?? those ducks are 100% his, and he is 100% going on rant after rant about them

and you are 100% more than happy listening to him as he drags you into the interest too (MUTUAL SPECIAL INTEREST YES.)

but if you have a singular special interest, he is going to sit there and put every little thing into it as much as he can!!! upset? hes bought you little merch for it. rambling on about how he'd enjoy it too and should watch it? he's booked out a whole day to watch it with you, all snuggled up.

~~~

might do a part 2 u never know

ducky signing out!! 🍎

[ramons-elevator]

I just wanna take the time to list the fucking bugs on the QSMP because they range from mildly inconvenient to this has changed history forever and they are the weirdest fucking bugs

Broken hearts: this is the bug of when people log in, it shows half of their hearts just being blacked out and it take someone smacking you to get them back. Its very funny when an egg or someone randomly goes "hey hit me". Honorary mention is when someone gets withered and the withered hearts stay. Very angsty I love.

Broken voice: this is many things, but mainly when someone has to deafen and undeafen when someone relogs. It was a big problem in early days because people didnt know and it was annoying, but now its just common knowledge.

Sweeping edge: Me and my homies hate this bug. Basically it was a line of code in one of the mods that got bugged and instead of sweeping edge dealing 0.5 of the damage of a hit, it would deal 5 time more. For example, when Etoiles and Bad were testing it out, Pomme hit Bad with a weapon and it killed Etoiles who was next to Bad. This is more than likely the cause of deaths for Tilin and Juanaflippa. Im glad it got fixed, but it still installs fear into OG islanders to this day.

Dorime bug: The funniest and stupidest bug of all. Dorime randomly playing out of nowhere and the only way to get it to stop is to turn musicbox noises on and off. It happens enough that people usually have their musicbox noises turned off at all times

Sound bug: Sounds be loud. Even from hundreds of blocks away. This is elevator sounds, monster/demon sounds, camera sounds, etc. Its normal at this point, but it sometimes freaks people out and think admins are fucking with them.

Dapper's flying hammer bug: A recent bug, but when Dapper and someone fight and Dapper hits them with their hammer, they start flying indefinitely or until they relog. The first time this happened was fucking insane because it was Dapper and Ramon doing their usual fighting and then Ramon started flying away. Fit, Bad, and Dapper all had no idea what to do and were all freaking out/crying laughing.

Ramon's duping bug: A bug that's been fixed, but Ramon figured out that if you sling shot something in a certain way (I think it was in the Copacabana ocean?) it would dupe a whole stack of whatever was shot. This also lead to Ramon and Fit figuring out that if you sling shot a waystone, it fucking crashes the server. Which led to a day where everyone was using that so they can keep doing Lucky Ducks.

Death bug: This is when someone has the visual of "0.0/100.0 Time left 00:00:00" stuck on their screen. Usually leads to someone BEGGING someone to let them kill them. Pretty funny and dumb.

Eggs being tall: Aka eggs models not loading for people. It usually makes people try to roleplay their way out and being scared of tall eggs. I.E. "Tall Richas isnt real" or Cellbit screaming in horror in purgatory when the lil eye guy model wasnt loading and saying the castle is haunted.

Teleport bug: Not very common, but some times if someone is trying to use their warpstone, they particles start to fly around them and they dont stop until the person lets go of the warpstone. This can make a wall of purple particles around someone.

Egg names: This is a very early "bug". In the beginning, in order for the parents to name their egg, they had to right click their eggs and name them. This made people accidentally name their eggs stuff like "eee" or "Wwww". Also other parents naming other eggs other names (Mariana named Leo "shit" and Foolish named Juana "Marianaisabitchjr"). On the first day, for some reason, everyone was named "TILIN" for like 5 minutes. This 'bug' also got the iconic clip of Phil right clicking on the OG code and he got a chance to name it and it freaked him out.

Im pretty sure there's a lot more, but I love how insanely modded server has the weirdest bugs known to man. Feel free to add any you remember.

[yallthemwitches]

An Act of Giving

Wrote this super quick for Jily Kinktober Day 5, prompt face sitting.

Would like to thank @daiz-nsfw for keeping the James munch agenda alive and well in this community. We thank you for your service.

AO3 Link here for all my Jily Kinktober work

“I hate to take you away from Lupin–I know you too really like to patrol together–”

“No, yeah, I get it. Don’t worry about it.”

“To be honest, I just wanted you to myself—”

Lily blinked at him. Michael continued to smile, either unaware of the implication in his comment or completely shameless. With him it was always hard to tell. 

“Evans— Wheeler…”

Lily whipped around. James jogged up to them, his tie undone so it was swinging to the side. 

“Potter,” Michael's face twisted from a cool confidence to smug in a matter of seconds,“ Did you come to turn yourself in for one of your antics or are you just wanting to chat?”

James flashed a smile. “Oh Mr. Head Boy, I hate to disappoint but I only tell my secrets to those who deserve it.”

Michael frowned back, getting more annoyed the longer they stood there.

“But really, Potter. What do you want?”

“Evans actually–.” 

Lily felt her face rush with color, not going undetected by either boy. 

“---she promised me she’d give me her notes for potions.”

It wasn’t his best cover-up, but at least it was half the truth. Lily caught the hint.

“Oh, right! So sorry, Michael but our exam is tomorrow and I really did promise him…”

She started to back away and both boys followed her movement.

“I left them in Slughorn’s office actually–was planning to go back for them anyways.”

The ends of James’ lips curved upwards. “Brilliant, lead the way.”

She nodded curtly at Michael who bounced his gaze between her and James, mouth set. 

“Ok–see you tonight then.”

Lily and James turned the corner before Michael could parse out that something was amiss. Not even a corridor away, James ripped open the door of one of the many empty classrooms and Lily ducked inside it. 

She sat against a table and watched as James locked the door and silenced the room, a clear sign that he had not had as studious intentions as he had put on for the Head Boy. 

“Don’t want anyone to overhear my very secret potions notes?” Lily taunted.

James walked slowly to her and her heart rate accelerated. She wasn’t an idiot, she saw the look in his eye the minute he had approached them. He wanted her. Wanted her badly enough to interrupt whatever she was doing to get her alone.

Once she was at arms length, he grabbed for her, hands weaving through hair, mouth running up her neck in open mouth kisses, absolutely lost in his own desire. Lily wrapped her arms over his shoulders to tug at the messy tangle of hair on the back of his head, leaning into his lips which had burned a path to her jaw. 

“I missed you,” he panted out, making it to her mouth. She nipped at his lower lip and he let out a low noise, hands tightening around her. 

“It’s been three hours.”

“So you were counting too.”

With no other comment, he dropped to his knees. Guiding her gently to sit against the side of the table, his hands slid down the length of her legs before curling around into her lower thighs. Lily gripped the sides of the table as he commenced a slow tortuous ascent towards her center, kissing her inch by inch. 

“I’m the one who should be on my knees,” she hummed out, “you’ve already gone down on me once today.”

“Shhh, Evans,” he said while preoccupied with leaving nip marks on her thigh, “who said there was a limit to how many times I taste you anyways.”

He traveled up to the bottom of her skirt, sucking a patch of purple into her skin as he used both hands to crumple the fabric up towards the waistband. Ungluing his mouth, he straightened up for a moment, lips already swollen from his work. He fingered the waistband of her knickers with a pointer finger, pulling at the elastic as his finger flexed and straightened, a movement Lily knew too well from feeling it inside her. 

“Mr. Head Boy fancies you, you know.”

He didn’t look up from where he toyed with her knickers, now pulling them down as slow as possible so the tips of his fingers skimmed against her skin. 

“I heard him in the locker rooms after practice—he’s going to ask you out. Said he was going to switch your patrols to get you both alone–”

Lily’s breath deepened as her knickers were carelessly thrown aside and James situated himself back between her legs, hands on either side of her inner thigh.

“Hmm, is James Potter jealous?” 

“I dunno, should I be? You still haven’t said yes to me–”

It was hard to take him at face value when he was hovering his mouth over her clit. He didn’t move to go any closer, letting his breath wash over her, making her impossibly wetter every second he stayed there. 

“Michael’s not the one who has made me come today is he?” she teased.

James just smiled, eyes now dark. His hands tightened against her skin, leaving small indents in the soft flesh. 

“Correction Evans,” the words sent a shiver through her middle all the way up to her head, “He’s not the one who will have made you come twice today.”

He gave a small lick to the top of her clit, a teasing gesture he knew would make her squirm. Her hand jumped into his hair, holding his face as close as possible, unwilling to let up until she got what she wanted. 

“Potter—please—”

He didn’t need any more convincing. Lily had had other blokes go down on her before in the past, but something was different with James. Even from the beginning, it was like he had a map to her body. Knew every little spot: the places that made her squirm and edge towards release and the places that made her come on command, like a shock to her system. She liked that he took his time. It was always hard to believe when boys said they liked the taste of pussy, but with James she really believed it. He savored his time between her legs, taking it as a sacred act, one that he very often did without any reward for himself. 

His tongue moved a bit more rough than usual, pulsing into her each time he passed over to the other side. He hoisted a thigh onto the blade of his shoulder, getting a different angle to suck and lap at her. She kept her hands tightly wound into his hair, eyes glazed as he stared back up at her with an expression she could only describe as euphoric. 

“That’s it baby—just like that.”

She could feel her release mounting like a crackling energy within her stomach, but James lifted his head, mouth open and glistening.

She heard herself begin to plead, “No–no, don’t stop. Don’t talk—just keep–”

“Will you fuck my face?”

That got her attention. Her eyes searched his for a moment, waiting for an elaboration.

“I want you to ride my face until you come,” he said matter of fact.

“Oh, Christ—yes.”

James scrambled onto his feet before climbing himself onto the table. He was still fully clothed besides his tie which had been long lost since they entered the room and the fabric of his pants strained to keep his erection captive. 

Lily stood and undid her skirt before walking to the end of the table where his legs dangled and pulled herself up over him. Crawling her way up his body, she dipped her hips over his groin so her center grinded up against his clothed cock. James let out a hiss, grabbing at her hips and holding her in place for a second longer before ushering her to continue her climb. 

Positioned so she was hovering just under his mouth, he latched his arms around her thighs.

“One of these days Evans, I’m going to tie you to my bed and see how many times I can make you come with my tongue–.”

Lily hummed and grabbed his hair, tugging his mouth to meet her clit again.

“---but today, I want you to use me. Don’t hold back. I want to taste the way you come when your hips are grinding into my mouth–”

She dropped her body onto him, effectively clipping off his words. The change in angle brought a whole new perspective to his talent. His tongue flicked upwards into her, absolutely relentless, swirling in and out. Her hips moved instinctually, just as they would on his cock. Hips rolling against his mouth, letting him reach from the tip of her folds to the bud of her asshole. 

She thanked Merlin he had the thought to use a silencing charm. She could feel her vocalizations coming out of her mouth, but it was like everything was put on hold other than the movement of him beneath her. She could have been screaming or completely silent for all she knew, the only thing that mattered was James’ tongue coaxing her rapidly to climax. 

She clenched his hair, tilting his head up and pushing him deeper into her. Her other hand reached back, finding his erection and cupping it through his pants. The action made her back arch like a bow, taut and ready to snap. 

“I’m so close–keep going—” 

James never stopped watching her, glasses now askew and eyes dark and determined. He clenched harder into her thighs and propelled her with the movement of her hips, aiding in her grinding. Her body started to shake from her nearing release and he thrust his tongue deep inside her, suctioning his mouth to give a soft suck to her folds. 

The light of climax bubbled over. She quivered on top of him, moaning out his name as her hips kept moving of their own accord. Only in the final comedown did she realize that her whole lower half had been clenched against him, now sore with effort. 

James threw his head back, catching his breath as Lily scooted herself down to lay her head against his shoulder. Still completely hard, she snaked a hand down to climb under his waistband, but he stilled her, holding it flat against his stomach. 

“Let’s just be still for a minute.”

He tilted his head up to kiss the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her middle. 

“If I knew you being jealous would make you so giving then I would have put up with Michael a long time ago—”Lily huffed against his shoulder.

A rumble came from James' chest. His arm tightening against her. 

“So you are still considering humoring our dearest Head Boy?”

He was trying to sound cool, but she could hear the uncertainty behind his words. Lily pulled her head up to look into his eyes. They were still pools of ecstasy, just as happy to lay on the table with her as he was to make her come, never asking for anything in return. She softly drifted her thumb across his lip, feeling the result of her climax wet on his skin. 

“No, but I will consider whatever I need to do to get you to tie me down so I can’t do my patrols with him.”

He smiled, like he was born anew.

“I’ll be happy to assist.”

[anto-pops]

Homecoming - Ominis Gaunt x Female!Reader

Summary: The carriage ride home was a test of sheer willpower. Your hands were demanding; pulling at the lapels of his coat and tugging his shirt from the waistband of his trousers to expose creamy, smooth skin. His hiss of pleasure when your chilled hands roved over his stomach sent a bolt of pure lust straight to your core, and you damn near straddled him right then and there.

Alternatively summarized as you and Ominis making up for lost time.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit content

Full fic can be found here on Ao3

All work and no play made you a frustrated and insufferable bitch. 

It wasn’t your fault though– nor was it Ominis’, really. It was easier for you to blame the Ministry for sending him away in the first place– on stupid assignments as far as fucking Romania, of all places. You’d received maybe two owls from him in the entire three weeks he’d been gone, and his lack of communication had set your teeth on edge for the last ten days. 

Again, it wasn’t his fault. Work was work, and you already knew Ominis loathed the Ministry assigned dictation quill they made him take with him, so you couldn’t particularly blame him for failing to send word more frequently. At the end of the day, you simply missed him. Longer trips away from home had become commonplace in the last few months, and every new assignment brought stronger cravings for him in his absence. Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that, right?

Wrong. Well, half wrong. 

You grew fonder of Ominis every day– even after five years together, you were surprised to still be learning new things about him. Specific things that were prone to work you into a tizzy if you thought about them for too long. Like the infatuation he seemed to have with your hair, and how he would run his fingers through it before yanking deliciously to the side. Or his affinity for visiting every region of your body with his mouth before his cock even came into play. Not to mention the absolutely filthy way he would moan your name; the word always sounded like a prayer falling from his lips before his bruising grip would pull you on to his cock harder and faster, fucking you through your climax as he chased his own with a mind-numbing pace that would leave you drooling and begging for more. 

Of course you grew fonder of him. But the distance could fuck right off– and you were prepared to tell him as much as you waited for his train to pull into the station. Twenty long days were finally coming to an end.

It took the better part of a half-hour for the steaming pile of metal to dock and another fifteen minutes for people to begin unloading from the cabins. You anxiously scanned the crowd until you spotted a familiar coif of blonde hair emerge near the back, and then you were expertly weaving and ducking through the clusters of bodies to get to him. 

“Ominis!” you called out, and the way his entire face lit up at the sound of your voice made your heart soar. 

He was rather lucky he didn’t end up back inside the train as you threw your arms around his neck. Your hug was roughly the equivalent of a chokeslam, your shoulder digging into his throat as you pulled him against you with a strength that put a Troll’s to shame. His chuckle of amusement tickled your ear, and you shamelessly inhaled his scent, having gone far too long without it.

“I take it I was missed,” he mused, letting his wand bearing hand slide up the nape of your neck to angle your lips to his as he kissed you hungrily. The contented noises that escaped your mouth made his chest lurch with affection, and he was made aware of just how much you’d missed him when you angled your hips to press against his groin. He stifled a groan, digging his fingers into your waist as you bit and sucked at his bottom lip. 

When you pulled away to look at him, you practically growled your confirmation. “You have no idea. If the Ministry asks you to go on any more trips I’m sending a Niffler in your place.”

Ominis couldn’t contain his laughter as you pulled him against you once more, stealing a few more toe curling kisses before he was nudging you away from the platform. Your intentions were clear enough, but he would sooner lay across the tracks than give anyone the pleasure of observing you so wound up. That was a gift reserved for him and him alone. 

The carriage ride home was a test of sheer willpower. Your hands were demanding; pulling at the lapels of his coat and tugging his shirt from the waistband of his trousers to expose creamy, smooth skin. His hiss of pleasure when your chilled hands roved over his stomach sent a bolt of pure lust straight to your core, and you damn near straddled him right then and there. 

It was far from a one-sided affair– Ominis was just as greedy– if not more so. His hands were trailing up the seductive curve of your waist as he leaned over you to kiss you, that broad tongue delving deep to tangle with your own, swallowing every little mewl and moan he elicited from you. At one point, he took your hand and placed it on his lap, urging you to feel the effect you had on him. His cock strained painfully against his trousers, and your mouth watered when it twitched in response to the tentative squeeze you gave him. 

“Damn– I missed your hands on me,” his lyrical voice cast a shiver down your spine. It was hushed and gravelly, the pure desire in his tone making you press your knees together in unbearable anticipation. 

Ominis abandoned your mouth to press wet, hot kisses to your jaw, tilting the column of your neck back with the force of his lips. When you felt his teeth bite down against your pulse, your heart stuttered in your chest, and he heard and felt you gasp with pleasure. Ominis smirked against the wet skin, sliding his hand from your hip up beneath your ruffled blouse, scratching as he went to squeeze your breasts. The pad of his thumb toyed with your nipple for far too long, making you squirm and pant in his hold in search of more. 

Fuck– you didn’t even think climbing inside his skin could begin to satiate you. 

When the carriage finally lurched to a stop outside your shared home, you barely had time to tug your shirt down before the driver was opening the door for you both. If he could tell what the two of you had been up to moments before, he didn’t show it, simply moving aside so you could step out. 

You let Ominis deal with paying the man as you rushed to the door, eager to be inside the privacy and comfort of the cottage. You took the liberty of summoning Ominis’ bags into the living room so he wouldn’t have to, and with a quick spark from your wand the fireplace was roaring to life, casting the space in an ambient glow. 

Heavy steps in the entryway drew your attention then, and your knees buckled at the sight of Ominis slamming the front door and stalking towards you like a wolf on the prowl. His knuckles were blanched white around his wand as he maneuvered around the familiar layout, and when his free hand found your shoulder, he languidly scooped you up and rammed your back into the wall as he claimed your lips in a desperate kiss. 

You were an absolute mess as you sighed against his open mouth, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Oh, how you’d missed this. You let your fingers wind their way into his soft, blonde hair as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Pinned between Ominis and the wall, the feeling of his hard cock rubbing against your slick through your skirt had you grinding back for more.

“Missed you–” you started to say before he cut you off with a chaste kiss, then he was burying his face in your neck, those sharp teeth of his biting and sucking any part of you he could get his lips on. You moaned, “I missed you so much Ominis. I h-hate it when you leave– fuck–” 

“Me too,” he groaned and punctuated the statement with a dizzying roll of his hips. “Merlin, I missed you too. I want you so bad—“

Your nails dug into the small of his back as you clawed at him, the ardent need to feel more of him against you as strong as the need to breathe, and Ominis obliged as he tightened his arms around you and kissed you once more. It was long and passionate and everything you had been dreaming about since he’d left those three agonizing weeks ago. Before you could properly appreciate the unique scent of him, he was breaking away and dropping right to his knees to slip slender fingers beneath your waistband. 

You watched as Ominis slowly tugged the fabric down, past your hip bones and over the shapely curve of your ass, before it dropped unceremoniously around your ankles. His milky blue eyes widened when his hands ghosted over where your underwear would have been… had you been wearing any. 

His mouth fell open at the realization, brows slamming down into a serious expression as he moaned, “Fucking hell–” 

There was no helping your smug grin at how incredibly turned on he sounded, but it lasted only a second before he was gripping your waist and hauling your soaked cunt to his mouth, and then you were throwing your head back against the wall with a string of cries that only served to spur him on. 

Ominis made it his mission to make you melt under his attention. His nose nestled against the bundle of nerves at your center, dragging a sultry moan from your throat as his hands nudged your knee over his shoulder and forced more of you on his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of you— the phantom taste of you on his lips had haunted him for his entire stay in Romania, making work a fucking impossibility. Knowing you had been as eager as he was, to the point where you’d completely forgone your undergarments on the off chance he would fuck you— it was enough to have him caving to his baser urges in a heartbeat. 

As he lapped at your juices, Ominis brought one of his hands down to his cock, palming himself shamelessly through the material as he ate you out, and the sight was nothing short of sinful as far as you were concerned. When his tongue came to probe at your entrance, you couldn’t help but buck your hips against his face as you gasped sharply. 

“F-Fuck, Ominis—”

It felt fantastic— so much better than your own fingers, which had failed to get you off a frustrating amount of times in the time he’d been gone. Ominis’ ability to focus on all of you with his heightened senses was otherworldly. You had convinced yourself a long time ago that he had more sexual prowess in his left pinky than anyone else on the planet. 

The thought solidified tenfold when he wiggled his tongue deeper inside you, those full lashes fluttering open to gaze lovingly in the direction of your voice. 

Your nails scraped along his scalp in a feeble attempt to feel more of him as an immodest moan tumbled from your throat, and the hand he still had braced against your ass tightened in response. Ominis ravished you, pulling curses and pleas from your swollen lips as the fire in your gut began to spread lower, the coiling heat driving you to rut back against his mouth as hard as your trembling legs allowed. 

“Fuck, Ominis– please, I’m so close–”

Ominis drew in a long breath as he held you fast to his rapidly moving tongue. The weight of your cunt pressed against his lips was making him lose any semblance of control over himself, the blood pulsing through his cock bordering on painful and demanding to be addressed. His desperation to take you on the bed had to be fucking palpable, and as you finally tightened around his tongue and your release cascaded over you, he barely waited a full minute before he was pulling away to pick you up again. 

“You’re incredible,” you felt him mutter the words into the crook of your clammy neck, and all you could bring yourself to do in response was whimper. “You’re going to listen good for me, hm? Going to let me fuck you until you’re crying my name and begging for more? That’s what you want, right?” 

You were still caught up in the euphoria of your orgasm– the small twitches emanating from your body were his only indication that you were still alive. 

Laughing against your shoulder, you felt Ominis move off the wall with you still boneless in his grasp as he made his way to the far corner of the cottage. “Of course you’ll be good, just listening to you I can tell. You didn’t even try to stop yourself from riding my face– so needy.” 

That teasing tone in his voice was enough to bring you back to the present moment. You didn’t even know if his wand was still in his hand, but it didn’t matter either way; he knew every inch of your shared home almost as well as he knew your own body, and he expertly maneuvered you to the edge of the mattress before throwing you down on the plush surface. 

Any sounds you made were immediately swallowed up by Ominis’ lips on yours again. Your noses and teeth knocked together as you drank in the lingering taste of yourself on his mouth, and when you raised your knee to arch closer to him, he boldly ground his cock against your leg, and your brain officially ceased to function. 

Glorious as the moment was, it was rudely interrupted by the fabric of your blouse beneath his fingers, and he really didn’t have the patience for any hindrances any longer. With an animalistic snarl Ominis was yanking the center seam apart, the buttons flying off in every direction and pelting the floor softly. Your gasp of shock overshadowed the noise– a brilliant red flush swept over your torso, trailing Ominis’ hands as he cupped your breasts and kneaded the skin beneath his fingers. 

“I thought about you every second these last few weeks,” Ominis started to say, trailing one burning hand down against your folds in a way that left your head spinning, before he was silently slipping a crooked finger into your slick heat. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your chest hitching as Ominis’ other hand came to gently curl around your neck. He applied a gratifying amount of pressure on the sides of your windpipe, pulling a choked wheeze from your parted lips. “I thought about how I would take my time when I got home– mapping your parts again like I did the first time. But to be quite honest with you, I can’t bear another second without you around my cock. I think I’ll skip any more pleasantries for tonight, what do you say?”

His thumb came to rub at the renewed slick coating your sensitive clit, and your head kicked back against the pillows with a wanton moan. 

“Please–” you choked out through clenched teeth– the spots that danced in the corners of your eyes were so blissfully titillating, you never wanted Ominis to remove his weight from your throat. All you cared about was his cock– how it would finally feel buried in you to the hilt, hitting that sweet spot that you knew would reduce you to a pile of limp mush. 

“Please what?” Ominis’ voice sounded foreign, even to him. His blatant lust for you diluted his words, and his grip on your throat tightened just enough to leave you clenching your knees around the hand he had buried in your aching cunt. 

One of your hands shot up to grip his slender wrist as the other fisted in the blankets, and you wanted to cry– your need for him was so intense– you would agree you were a damned Hippogriff if it meant he would give you what you wanted, what you knew he wanted as well. “Please fuck me, Ominis. I can’t take it anymore– I want your cock, I missed your cock– please–” 

Your airy voice was his final straw. He relaxed his grip on your throat, and the greedy breath you drew into your lungs was effectively stolen as Ominis leaned down to claim your lips in a hungry kiss. His trousers were irritatingly tight, but he couldn’t be bothered to waste any time on painstakingly removing them, so he slid his finger from your wet heat to hastily undo his belt. Arousal clouded his mind, and the first few attempts at removing the leather strap failed with a string of curses on his lips. 

In an impatient attempt to move things along, your fingers drifted up to help Ominis take off the belt, but the immediate and positively indignant furrow of his brows quickly conveyed exactly what a bad idea that was. 

Not quick enough, though. The hand on your throat flew to both your wrists in a flash, and then he was throwing your arms over your head with that hidden strength you knew always lurked beneath the surface. “Keep your hands to yourself, darling,” he purred the demand against your lips, and the sound of his belt finally falling from his waist was like music to your ears. “Or do you need help? Do I need to physically restrain you to keep you from doing the simple things I ask of you?” 

Part of you leapt at the idea– to be completely at Ominis’ mercy, hands restrained while he used you for his own pleasure– your own protests and requests forgotten. But a larger part of you wanted to feel him now. It had been three fucking weeks. If he wasted another second teasing you with his fingers or his hands– or even his Merlin be damned belt, you were going to combust. So you shook your head and whimpered out a meek, “No, please– just fuck me already Ominis– I’m sorry– please, I need you.” 

You heard his belt clatter against the floor somewhere far away, your mind suddenly flooded with the taste, the smell– the ripe, undeniable feeling of Ominis all around you. He had shoved his trousers down around his hips, allowing his cock to spring free from its clothed prison. It stood arched and proud against his narrow waist, the swollen head peeking through his foreskin, and your mouth watered promisingly at the sight. 

He adjusted his hold on your wrists; snug and secure. When he finally nudged his head against your entrance, your nails dug into your palms with the effort it took to not grab his hips and pull him into you all at once. A keening sound came from somewhere in your chest as he pushed in more, instantly thrilled to be feeling him inside of you after so long. Those hazy blue irises followed the sound of your stifled gasp as he worked his cock into your overwhelmingly wet heat, taking it all in as he committed your raspy moans of his name to memory. 

Ominis gave a shuddering groan, leaning back to brace himself on his arms once he was fully seated inside of you. His length was considerable– the fact that you could actually take all of him was a bonafide miracle, and the way he felt pressing against your walls was an absolute and utter God-send. 

“Oh fuck,” he moaned from above you. His face betrayed every thought racing through his mind. The brief moment he waited before pulling his hips back was more for him than it was for you– he was overcome with the sheer sensation of you encasing him. When he finally did move, however, both of you were sighing in earnest at the euphoric sensation it brought you. “Fuck, you feel incredible, love.”

One of your favorite parts about laying with Ominis was watching him. He was always so expressive, making it relatively easy for you to cater to his desires when it was you working to pleasure him. But when the roles were reversed like this, you enjoyed watching the ecstasy you brought him wash over his lithe body. His eyes narrowed in concentration with each slow thrust of his hips, and the way he was grinding against you while fully sheathed in your cunt made your eyes cross. The hands he had previously manhandled you with were now tracing every ridge of your body– featherlight and testing at first– but then his blunt nails dragged over your pert nipples and pulled a guttural whine from your throat. That muscle in his jaw ticked at the sound, and before you knew it, Ominis was mercifully picking up his pace. 

Your name tumbled from his lips as he came to dig his fingers into the skin of your waist, angling your hips up just enough so that when he pulled back and plunged back in, the head of his cock reached far deeper than anything he’d offered you before. 

“Fuck!” You screamed and flexed your fingers in Ominis’ grip. “Oh my– Merlin, that’s fucking– Ominis–” 

Nothing coherent was coming out of your mouth, but Ominis didn’t seem to mind as he swiftly slammed his cock into your pulsing core again. No, if anything he loved hearing you reduced to a mewling, unintelligible pile of limbs. It riled him up more– leaving him desperate to fuck more disjointed words and phrases from your wicked lips. Your magnetic aura always drew him in, that ancient magic of yours acting as a beacon whenever he was apart from you. Joined together like this– fucking the composure straight out of you– it brought that gravitational pull to new heights, and his hand tenderly felt its way to your cheek. 

Ominis’ thumb swiped through a few tears that had slipped out the corners of your eyes, and you turned your misty gaze towards him, willing your muddled brain to focus on his face through each rough thrust of his hips. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, the concern in his voice apparent, but he didn’t cease his ministrations– thank Merlin. 

“Y-Yeah, f-fuck– feels so good, Ominis, you’re amazing– I missed you, I missed you so much.” Your reassurances had an affectionate warmth spreading in his chest, and when he leaned forward to capture your lips once again, he damn near passed out as your walls clenched around him. 

With a growl, Ominis released your wrists and was sitting back on his heels to grab at your calves. You had the good sense to lift your legs in assistance, and as soon he had you in his burning grasp, he was folding your knees up to your shoulders. A sharp cry ripped from your throat as his cock plunged back in, followed by a string of sinful moans as you were left to feel every deep, delightful brush of his shaft against your cervix. 

Ominis set a brutal pace, shifting his own legs apart to pound his cock right into where he knew your sweet spot was, taking advantage of the fantastic angle your raised legs offered. Your cries grew louder, needier, and before you knew it you were ripping the pillow out from beneath your head to sprawl freely across the bed and arch towards him with as much give as you were allowed. Ominis felt you contorting beneath him and whispered filthy praises in your ear, his lust-dark eyes driving you mad as he squeezed your legs and told you how good you were being, how pretty you sounded, and how nicely you were taking his cock. 

Before long you could feel the telltale coiling in your gut returning, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Ominis wasn’t far behind– he honestly could have come hands free earlier just from having you half-sat on his face– but this new angle allowed him to brutally slam his pelvis against your ass, and the sound of skin slapping against wet skin threatened to send him over the edge. 

He bent down, pushing your legs back farther as he kissed any coherent thoughts from your mind and slammed his cock into you. “C’mon love, watch me– watch my cock drag those pretty cries from you– let me hear you.” 

Following his request was harder than you imagined– you were fucking boneless. Your head struggled to cooperate as you lifted your neck, but Merlin, was it worth it. Ominis’ pale cock glistened with your slick, the firelight casting a brilliant glow over his sweaty, porcelain skin. The supple muscles in his shoulders flexed beneath his shirt with the effort he exerted to keep you bent precariously in half, and his kiss swollen lips parted around a keening groan as he ground his balls against your ass. 

“Fuck, Ominis, s-so fucking good– a-ah–” His thrusts grew in intensity, and you wanted to complain when he released one of your legs and let it fall limply to the side, but that was before the now free appendage found your sensitive clit and pressed hard, tempting circles against it. Your head flew back in ecstacy, unintelligible pleas falling from your lips left and right– and you were almost certain you were drooling all over yourself, but you couldn’t begin to give a shit about it with Ominis pounding you and rubbing your clit and wearing that unbelievably seductive expression like some sort of convoluted sex-demon. 

Fuck– the mere sight of him ramming into you, desperate to have you falling apart on his cock, was everything you’d ever need. 

“I’m gonna come, fuck– Ominis I’m close, please let me come, please.” 

“Come, darling. You can come.” Ominis buried his face in your neck as he let out a positively erotic whine, your begging causing his mind to completely empty, and when your walls seemed to constrict and suck him in further, he nearly lost it then and there. “That’s it– come on my cock, let me hear you– come for me, love–” 

You cut him off with a desperate cry of his name, arching your back so it was flush with his chest as your nails flew to his shoulders. They dug into the material of his shirt in a last ditch attempt to pull him closer to you as you fell apart around his cock. Ominis moaned, the sound long and low as his fingers tangled in your messy hair and pulled, the sting making you buck involuntarily against him– and if he didn’t come now he was positive he would drop dead on top of you. 

Ominis pumped harder, his own rattling moans growing in volume as he chased his orgasm. His pace was fast and rough as he slipped his arm under your waist and held you fast to him– those slender fingers digging into your body with bruising strength that left you clenching around him, and his hips began to falter as his own release coursed over him like a deadly tidal wave. You felt him shoot his load deep inside of you, and you whimpered at the sensation– your legs shook wildly on either side of him as he slowly rocked against you, milking every last drop from his twitching cock. 

It took a while for the two of you to catch your breath and come down, both of you salty with sweat and so beyond content with it. Ominis was absurdly careful as he pulled out of you, and you shivered as you felt his hands drift over your naked body, pressing and soothing with gentle touches and chaste kisses. You watched through hooded eyes as he backed up further, then leaned down to press a delicate kiss to your overstimulated clit. Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn’t help the small jolt your body gave at the unexpected touch. 

“All mine,” you heard him mutter from down near your nether region. Despite the raunchy activities you’d just partaken in, you flushed a brilliant red at his tone. It was predatory– almost feline, and you felt his hands grip the soft skin of your inner thighs before his long finger was pressing against your leaking hole. The digit pushed his milky semen further inside of you, and you gasped. “And this is yours– a keepsake, for waiting so patiently for my return.” 

If you weren’t so drained, you would have jumped up from your spot and flipped him over to go again, his lewd acts of reverence making you dizzy with want. 

But alas– you were exhausted. Ominis looked fatigued too, his full day of travel finally beginning to catch up with him now that he’d gone and emptied three weeks worth of cum inside of you. You watched as he traced the delectable outline of your hip bones with his hands before he slid off the bed to lazily tug his shirt over his head, and then he was quickly shedding his trousers. He tucked his softening cock away in his briefs as he maneuvered his way back to the bed, feeling for you instantly. 

You let his lithe arms tug you against his bare chest, burying your head in the crook of his neck and intertwining your legs with his so that all the softer parts of you were flush with the harder parts of him. 

It was easy– exactly the kind of simple life Ominis had always craved. As loathsome as it was to perform the bulk of the Ministry’s leg work overseas, coming home to you each time made every second worth it. His head craned sideways to place a tender kiss on top of your head, your hair tickling his nose. “I love you,” he murmured affectionately, his eyes drifting shut. 

“I love you more,” you countered easily. It drew a breathy chuckle from Ominis, and you felt his broad hand spread across the small of your back as he held you tight. 

The two of you fell asleep like that; cocooned in the familiar safety of each other’s arms, sweet nothings drifting from your lips until Ominis’ steady breathing lulled you into pleasant dreams of your own. The last thing you found yourself thinking about as sleep overtook you was how you would absolutely be sending a Niffler in his stead the next time the Ministry came calling. They could pry him from your cold, ancient magic wielding hands. 

For the first time in three weeks, you and Ominis slept soundly and uninterrupted.

[stayinguplate]

Chapter 3 tea party

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

okay chapter three, this one took almost forever along with my family driving me crazy. Other than that, this story idea belongs to @moshispace and you can check out there works to see how they explain it ,I repeat I am the Writer and they are the Creator .

WARNING:This story contains yandere themes ,some blood and wound mentions, slight foul language

Enough yapping from me let’s get into the story

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

.

.

.

.

.

.

I started traveling down the SNUD path my feet

ache as i walked down the path ,the sun started

to set turning into dusk as the time progressed

the time was odd here but I was getting tired.

I eventually entered a forest it was half engulfed

with mist ,as I was walking looking around the

twisted tree branches it gave off the illusion of

that it was moving but I knew it was just the mist

that was creating it.

As I duck under a tree to keep moving I wince as I

stopped to look at the still fresh looking wound on

my upper arm from the monster it stings as l wipe

the dirt off, a cold breeze blows by as I sighed not

knowing what to do.

“It looks like you ran afoul of something.

with wicked claws.”

I flinched as I turned around to see another turtle

A box turtle more like as he was sitting on the tree

Branch observing me with a smile.

“ …and I’m still dreaming “

I said as I looked at him confused

“ well what did that to you?”

He said curiously as he pointed to my wound on

My upper arm.

“ banner or bander-“

“ the Bandersnach?”

He said with shock mixed with amusement as he then disappeared,

“ well ,I’d better have a look “

I jumped slightly in shock as he reappeared right

next to me .

“ what are you doing?”

I asked with Apprehensiveness

“ it needs to be purified by someone with

evaporating skills ,or it will fester and putrefy “

He explained calmly

“ I’d rather you didn’t ,I’ll be fine as soon as I wake

up from this confusing world “

I said as I felt on edge. I then attempted to walk

away before he gently grabbed my forearm

“ well at least let me bind it for you “

He said as he magically pulled out rag bandage ,

He started to gently wrap my arm in the bandage

“ what do you call yourself?”

“ reader”

“ the reader ?!?”

He said happily with a smile as he finished the

binding on my upper arm .

"There Has Been Some Debate About That..."

"I Never Get Involved In what is it..Politics."

He said with a smiling smirk as he vanished again

“ you’d best be on your way, shame i would have

loved to catch up “

He said as he reappeared behind me I turned

around looking at him confused and in disbelief

“ what way ?!, all i really want is to wake up from

this confusing dream “

He sighed softly

“ fine…I’ll take you to the hare and Leo ,but that’s

the end of it dear”

He said as he disappeared into thin air, I looked

around hearing more of the owls and frogs

making noise . I look around for him waiting to

Appear but nothing…

“ coming ?”

I look to where to the end of the forest goes and I

see him waiting , I hesitate for a second

Before I go running next to him, it was better than

being alone in this odd and confusing world .

After most likely a few hours we had made it out

of the forest walking for a couple of minutes

before the the orange turtle disappeared again I

was confused as I run up a little to see if he went

ahead ,but no instead I saw a somewhat broken

Down windmill house down the hill I was on ,

I walked down the hill carful to watching

Where I stepped so i didn’t trip.

As I got closer I saw cass , Usagi and another

turtle sleeping but all seemed to have woken up

as soon as I got close to the table .

The turtle then squinted his eyes and widened

them as he saw me a smile appearing on his face

as he abruptly stepped on the table and walked

on top of it to get to me ,breaking a teapot and

stepping on pastry’s in the process .

I look at him my stomach churned in uneasiness

as I look up at him

“ it’s you “

He said happily with a smile

“ no Raph had gotten the wrong reader “

Cass said

“ ITS THE WRONG READER!?”

Usagi said in shock and also craziness

“ it’s absolutely reader ,you’re absolutely reader id

know you and your lovely face anywhere …”

He said as he turned his head back to the table

“ I’d know them anywhere!”

He yelled as then the hare and cass started

slightly giggling ,

He then turned around back to me with a smile as

he then grabbed my hand lifting me up slightly as

if he was helping me walk

“ as you can see we are still having tea “

He said as he then again walked on top of the

table over everything , I couldn’t exactly walk as

he was lifting me to the point me feet couldn’t

touch the ground or …table

“And it’s all because I was obliged to kill time

waiting for your return .”

He said as he finally made it to his chair and let go

of my hand setting me down

“ you’re terribly late, you know. Naughty, well

anyway, time became quite offended and

stopped altogether “

He explained , as I looked around observing I see

the other turtle the orange one appear and

slightly spook the hare .

“ Not a tick ever since “

He said as he pats a seat gesturing me to sit

down , as I sit down, he does too

“ time can be funny in dreams “

I said as I looked up at him

“ yes yes ,of course,but now you’re back you see

and we need to get on to the Frabjous day. “

He says as the others join

“ frabjous day!”

“ Frabjous day!”

Cass and the hare exclaimed in excitement

“ I’m investigating things that begin with the

letter ‘ M’ “

He said as he then gets a little closer then

Whispering to me .

“ have you any idea why a raven is like a writing

desk?…”

He asked ,I shook my head confused .

“ Downal wyth bluddy behg Hid!”

He said as cass and Usagi start chanting it

“ Downal wyth bluddy behg Hid!”

“ Downal wyth bluddy behg Hid!”

They all said as I look at them all confused

“ what?”

I said as I looked to the other turtle who had not

said it .

“ down with the bloody big head “

He said simply as he had just seem to be looking

at his empty cup but then he looked up from it,

staring at me from across the table

“ the bloody big head being the purple king “

He said as he looks back down at his cup

“ come, come. We simply must commence with

readers choosing and what she will choose, we

must convince her , therefore it is high time to

forgive and forget… or forget and forgive,

whichever comes first”

He said as he quickly paused then started to

continue talking .

“ or is ,in any case, most convenient I’m waiting “

He says as he pulls out a pocket watch

“ h-hey it’s tick-tick it’s ticking again.”

Usagi stutters as I look at him as he pulls a

pocket watch out of the teapot .

“ all this talk of blood and choosing has put me

off my tea …”

The turtle said as he puts the teacup down

“ ah …the entire world is falling into ruin and poor

Mikey’s desire off his tea”

‘ Mikey so that is his name’ I thought to myself

as the other turtle says that to Mikey with a little

bit of venom 

“ what happened that day was not my fault leo”

Mikey replied with the same type of tone he did

Leo inhaled sharply he looked angry,

“ oh ,dear”

Usagi said nervously , Leo then stands up and

walks to the left side of the table, 

“ you ran out on them to save your own skin, you

guddler’s scuttish pilgar lickering shukm juggling

sulking urpal shukm juggling sulking urpal

Bar Lon MUCK EGG BRIMNI!”

Mikey looked slightly, startled as Leo said these

things I couldn’t let it pass as Mikey helped me

out of the forest 

“ Leo Leave Him Alone!”

I yelled, Leo then turns to me pausing

“ thank you….”

He says, with a sort of strained voice 

“ meow “

Usagi randomly said as he looks to Leo

Leo takes a deep breath in and breathes out

“ I’m fine….”

He says ,he sighed as he looks down

“ what’s wrong with you , Leo, you used to be the life of the party ?”

Mikey says as Leo looks to him , Mikey had put

himself an actual cup of tea and started stirring it

as he popped the sugar cube in .

“ you used to do the best flutterwacken in all of

witzend “

Leo looks up in a daydreaming matter, smiling as

he probably recalls the memory 

“ flutter what ?”

I ask out of curiosity

“ FlutterWacken !”

Usagi says as he knocks the spoon off of the

table to the floor

“ it’s a dance “

Cass said explaining it in a more simpler way

“ do you know when-“

Cass gets cut off as Leo interrupts her

“ on Frabjous day when the final decision is once

made and if we get the hopeful wish, we are

wishing for …”

He said as he looks at you 

“ on that day i shall flutter wackiness vigorously”

He said as he looks away from me as all the other

start giggling, except for Mikey .leo then heads

back to his seat and sits down.

Suddenly Usagi lifted his ear, signaling that he

was hearing something 

“Oh no “

He said as he looked to the fog of the forest

Mikey looked back to see

“ uh-oh”

He said as i heard the familiar stomping of the

robot guards growing closer

“ Goodbye.”

He said as he then evaporates disappearing ,

Usagi was behind him but as Mikey

disappeared the hare scrambled back as he yelled

“ Hide Her!”

As he scrambled back to his seat.



>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

You all will see a drawing of Leo in the next chapter:3

Hope you all have a great day or night or even afternoon and I’ll see you soon.

(edited)

[runninriot]

another one for the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Day 12

prompt: only one bed | rated: t | word count: 998 | tags: sleepover, finding comfort, coming to conclusions, soft boys cuddling, open ending

🌙

Steve can’t sleep.

He’s been tossing and turning for god knows how long but nothing seems to work. The air in the room is stuffy, the light from the street lamp outside shines too bright through the open blinds, and the fucking noise...

    Ugh!

He hates himself for ending up here in the first place. Squished between the wall and Eddie fucking Munson who’s dead asleep on his back, happily snoring, legs and arms splayed out like he owns the fucking place.

Okay, maybe because he does. It's his bed after all.

They’ve been hanging out at the trailer – Eddie, Steve, Robin, and Vickie. And they really had a great time, that’s not the problem. The problem is, that Steve let himself be talked into having ‘just one beer’ and one turned into three which would’ve been fine, really. He could’ve sobered up enough to drive them home by the end of the night. But then Eddie had to bring out the good stuff and- Well.

Him and the girls decided to stay overnight. But unfortunately, Rob and Vic called dibs on the folding couch and while Steve would’ve been fine to sleep on the floor (‘Just hand me a blanket, I really don’t mind.’) Eddie insisted that his bed was big enough for two.

So, here he is now. Lying awake next to the loudest snorer in history, unable to get some much-needed sleep.

Steve turns again, facing Eddie now. He looks at the mess of tangled hair, the starfish-like display of limbs, the half-parted lips, and despite his annoyance he can’t bite back a quiet chuckle.

Eddie looks adorable.

I mean... like a dork!

The sound of his snoring has turned into a muffled sound, almost like he’s talking in his sleep but Steve can’t really make out the words. And then Eddie moves, turns to his side and-

    You have got to be kidding me!

One of Eddie's hands sneaks around his middle the same time he hooks one leg over Steve’s. Eddie shuffles closer, pressing his nose into coarse hair - inhaling deeply, sighing contently in his sleep.

Steve feels trapped, doesn’t know what to do. He can't just push Eddie away, doesn’t want to startle him awake by wiggling out of his grasp because Eddie looks so... comfortable. So cosy, all curled up against Steve’s body.

And it kinda feels nice because Eddie is warm and his skin is soft and the snoring has stopped, which is a big plus.

Surely, he’ll let go and turn back around if Steve just waits a little while. There’s no need to make a big deal out of it.

“Hmm, 's nice," Eddie mumbles.

Steve can feel his lips moving against his chest and it sends a hot blush to his face.

   “Eddie? You awake?” Steve tries but gets no verbal response from the other man. Eddie just tightens his grip, moves even closer to Steve.

The digits on the alarm clock tell him it’s 02:23. He should be asleep by now. He’s so tired, can barely keep his eyes open. Eddie’s skin is so soft and warm and Steve tries to keep his own body from sinking further into the embrace but it feels nice to be held like that. To feel someone else's skin on his own. It should be weird - because that someone is Eddie - but somehow, it's not.

The monotonous sound of Eddie’s now calm breathing works like magic, makes him drift deeper and deeper into a peaceful sleep.

☀️

   “Good morning, sunshine.”

Steve blinks and forces one eye open. He's greeted by a blinding smile that competes with the light of the sun shining through the window.

   “M’rning,” Steve mumbles sleepily in return.

He doesn’t want to get up, wants to sleep a little longer. He wants to stay hidden from the world just a couple more minutes.

Steve ducks his head back down, scoots closer, crawls back into the comfort of Eddie’s arms where it’s warm and safe and-

    Oh.

He freezes when he realises the position they're in – an arm wrapped around his shoulder, his own draped over Eddie's waist. Tangled legs. Steve’s face tucked into the space between Eddie’s shoulder and neck.

    Oh fuck.

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind though. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push him away. Just lets Steve hold him and even starts drawing circles to the skin on his back.

It feels so fucking nice.

   “Hmmm.” Steve hums, nearly moans when he feels Eddie's nails scraping along his neck and into his hair line, sending a tingling sensation through his body.

   “You like that?” Steve feels Eddie’s hoarse, sleepy voice vibrating on his lips where they’re connected to his throat - feather light, barely touching.

  “Feels good,” Steve answers, lips grazing Eddie's skin almost like a tender kiss. Almost.

Beside him Eddie shivers, inhales shakily as he pulls Steve closer into his arms.

They stay like that for a while in comfortable silence, gentle hands stroking long lines up and down Steve's back in steady motion. They're holding each other closer than they should be allowed to. Because they’re friends and that’s not usually what friends do.

   “I could stay like this forever,” Eddie whispers and Steve secretly agrees. Thinks he could live in Eddie’s arms, wouldn’t mind if he held him like this, always.

But forever is a dream and always an illusion.

They both know the moment is over when they can hear the girls talking in the living room. They’ll have to let each other go and get up. Forget about this and pretend it never happened.

Steve peels himself off reluctantly, keeps one hand placed on Eddie’s side. He's not quite ready to leave.

Their eyes meet and there’s a sad smile on Eddie’s face. Steve wants to kiss it better, knows he can't.

He shouldn’t want this but Eddie is right there; hesitating, like he doesn't want to let go either and maybe...

"Stevie?"

Yeah, maybe.

[pinky27freak]

°¶_Yuu X Lilia_¶°~

~°¶_cuddles_¶°~

You know what’s the best feeling in the world? The feeling of the one you love sleeping beside you in perfect peace with their limbs tangled in your own, and their body flush with yours. That’s what Lilia Vonrouge was thinking right now, with his girlfriend all snuggled up beside him. Last night they had both stayed up late gaming, and because of that they had both fallen asleep together on the floor, blankets and pillows along with empty snack bags surrounding them and making up their strange yet cozy nest.

The fae smiled softly as he playfully but gently poked his girlfriend’s cheek where her dimple usually expressed itself when she smiled. The girl moaned and peaked open one eye.

“Oops. Did I wake you, baby bat?” Lilia smiled, his raspberry red eyes shining in their usual playful Manor. Yuu's response was just a noise as she then cuddled deeper into the small fae.

“Mmm… you're warm.”

“Hehehe… you're so cute when you're half asleep like this…” He took a piece of her hair and twirled it between his fingers. “It makes me want to kiss you.” Yuu let out another sleepy noise and presented her forehead. Lilia smirked before kissing it lightly, earning a happy noise from his girl.

“Yay! I got kisses!” She softly sang, smiling widely into her boyfriend’s chest.

“If you’d present me with those lips of yours you’d get more!” Lilia smirked, still playing with her hair.

“You had your fun last night.” She said, referring to the several stolen kisses that had been taken last night.

“But your lips are so soft!” He said, grabbing her chin and running his thumb over her lips. “I could kiss them all day.” Yuu’s face turned red. Why does her boy have to be so small and cute, but sexy at the same time? Oh yeah. He’s lived for hundreds of years, that’s probably why.

“Vonrouge-“

“Yes baby bat?” He smirked, leaning in just a bit more, his playful eyes going to a more mischievous red color. Yuu narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.

“Don’t get carried away, or I’ll have to be mean and smack you.” Lilia made small happy noises as he smiled and started to kiss his girlfriend’s face. He always started with her nose, his favorite. Yuu’s nose had a small flat spot on the tip, making it the most boopable nose ever, and Lilia's favorite place, besides her lips, to kiss her. He then moved to her cheeks and the forehead, finally ending with her full lips, kissing them the not surprisingly the longest. After he’d satisfied himself with her lips he rubbed his nose to hers. He had a huge smile on his pale face, so happy that he got her.

“I couldn’t live long enough to show you how much I love you Yuu.” His eyes stared right into hers, communicating things he couldn’t find the words for, or that words couldn’t describe.

“That’s a lot considering you could potentially live forever.” Yuu gave a small smile, before giving him a quick kiss on his thin glossy lips.

“Hey!! Stealing kisses is my job!!” Lilia whined, though he tried to kiss her back but she dogged by ducking her head into a blanket, giggling as she did so.

“Two can play at that game Vonrouge.” He could hear her smirking so plainly he rolled his eyes and ducked under the blankets too. They both then spent about thirty minutes playing hide and seek and tag in there, but in the end they decided to build a makeshift fort that they then snuggled up in. Lilia used his magic to create what appeared to be the night sky on their fort's roof, and the two just sat there, basking in each other’s presents and cuddles, occasionally talking about a great many things. School life, friends, siblings, Yuu’s home world, Lilia’s adventures in babysitting, and then finally about them as a whole.

“Lilia?”

“hm?” The boy turned towards the sweet siren voice that called him.

“Why did you choose me? Knowing full well that I’m human and can not live forever like you.” Her voice was muffled, due to the fact that she’d buried her head into his chest, but he could hear the distinctive sadness in her voice.

“Yuu look at me.” He said in a demanding yet soft and sweet tone. “I chose you because I fell in love with you. You and your quirkiness, sarcastic yet caring attitude, your beautiful hair, your intereging eyes that always show your emotions and see beauty in everything and everyone, your adorable nose,” He paused here to boop it before continuing. “Your cute ears, how your eyes light up when you hear or see something you like, your dainty slim fingers, your random noises you make, the way you walk and talk, heck I literally fell in love like a love sick school boy. I’ve been on deaths door numerous times, but the fact is I knew I was in trouble when I first heard your laugh and my heart danced to the sound and yet I didn’t fight it, nor ran away. I dived headlong into you, my sweet fluffy baby bat, my partner in crime. That’s why I chose you.”

“Lilia!! You're making me cry!!” Yuu hiccuped as she tried to hide the tears that were almost streaming down her face. Lilia chuckled as he took her face in both hands and gently wiped away the salt water with his thumbs, a smile alighted his lips as he again stared at her in the eye for the second time that day.

“Plus, I can’t help but think about how cute the kids would be!” His mischievous yet child like smile broke out as Yuu fell into a fit of laughter.

“Lilia, you already have kids, three to be exact.” Yuu said referring to Malleus, Sebek, and his literal adopted son Silver.

“Yes! I know technically, no, I did raise all three of them, but,” He paused, his smile fading, and took a breath, looking down, frowning slightly. “I want my own kids. You know? Ones that I helped bore, and that are from me, a-and hopefully…….. you.” Lilia’s face turned a slight red at this confession, not used to sharing these deep thoughts he had. It had been just him for so long after Maleanor. Saying these things aloud even in a whisper seemed to be shouting them to the whole world. No, he had just shouted it to the whole world. At least his world. Yuu blinked, then smiled as she nudged him to look up.

“I would gladly bore your children,” She quickly added. “As long as we are married, and have been for at least two years.”

“Yes, no voodoo stuff until wedding night!” He smiled, already thinking about it until she gave him a look and he immediately shooed all gutter lined thoughts out from his mind.

“Good. Now that we have that out of the way,” Yuu then flipped herself over onto her boy's chest, wrapping her arms and legs around him and cuddling her head into his chest. “Cuddles!”

“You're addicted to cuddles.” Lilia wrapped one arm around her waist and the other was free to play with her hair. Until-

WHAM!!

“Get out of bed old man, you and Mom have been cuddling long enough.” Silver’s voice echoed in their ears, Lilia frowned for a split second before then smirking let out a really long moan. Silence followed for a moment, then the door shut very quickly, Lilia still smirking.

“That ought to teach him to interrupt a couple’s alone time.” Yuu gave him a look before they both burst into laughter.

“Poor Silver, you’ve probably just scared him for life.” Yuu sighed after calming down.

“Eh, he’s a tough boy, he’ll be perfectly fine.”

“You’ll need to apologize to him and make it clear that we weren’t doing anything.”

“I’ll apologize later but for now,” He flipped them over so he was now on top and Yuu underneath him. “You are my prisoner, and I forbid you to leave.”

[frogsinflannel]

w.i.p. snippet that at this point I’m not sure is getting finished ??? 911 - Eddie POV on bucktommy

“I guess, uh. Guess we better go then.” Buck looks unsure, even as he says it, glancing between Eddie and Tommy as they all stand around Eddie’s kitchen.

“Sure,” Tommy says. “I’m ready to go if you are.” He leans back against the sink and takes a quick drink of his water. “We can go ahead and get out of your hair if that’s what you want, Eddie.”

“N-not that we’re trying to ditch you,” Buck says, too quick. “We don’t have to leave if—”

“What? You two gonna hang around here and I have to deal with whatever hormones all that whipped up?” Eddie gives him a flat look and Buck grins, ducks his head and looks half-sheepish and half-pleased.

“Yeah, okay,” Buck says. He readjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “I guess we do have… plans.”

Tommy makes a noise, his face twitching, but when Eddie looks over it’s schooled back to indifference. His eyes are bright, though, and it’s not hard to figure out what Buck means by plans.

It must show on his face, because as soon as Eddie’s had the thought Tommy’s expression has gone scrunchy and smirky and then he winks. Eddie flushes before he can help it–which serves him right, he thinks, because that’s not something he should be thinking about his friends, right? Not what they’re about to leave his house to do to each other.

“Hey,” Tommy says, stepping over to Buck. “You can’t blame me, right Diaz?” His voice is warm and fond, a little teasing. “I mean, this guy?” He puts one big arm around Buck’s waist and tugs him, playful and close, until their bodies are pressed together. “Adorable.”

He’s talking to Eddie but it’s not for Eddie. It’s all for Buck.

And Buck knows it. Is delighted by it, if the expression on his face is telling. His eyes are fixed on Tommy and he’s grinning, tongue between his teeth so it sticks out of the corner of his mouth. “Did you hear that, Eddie?” he asks. He leans in closer to Eddie, raising a hand to cup the back of Tommy’s neck. “I’m adorable.”

“Sure you are, Evan.”

Tommy makes a soft, rumbly noise of approval–like a purr–and Buck chuckles at him, quiet and a little heated. Eddie turns away from them, grabs something just so his hands are busy. It feels intrusive–and it’s his damn kitchen. He hears the sound of a kiss, and embarrassed heat curls up his spine. He feels it reddening his neck and ears.

“Yeah, uh, sorry Eddie,” Buck says, distracted, and Eddie can only imagine why. He’s already pushing at Tommy, shoving him toward the door. “W-we gotta go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through this hair. “You two get out of here.”

“Hey.” Buck drops Tommy’s hand and steps closer. “I’m serious. If you need us to stay or—if you need me to stay, then—“

“I got it, Buck,” he says, grumbling. “I’m a big boy. Now go. Maul your boyfriend before you pop a blood vessel. You’re getting your pheromones all over my kitchen.”

Buck laughs and then leans in, grabbing Eddie and reeling him in close. Their foreheads touch and Buck says “You got this, man. We… we got this. We got you.”

He pulls away and meets Tommy’s eye. He looks at Eddie with gentle, friendly concern. You good?

Eddie nods. “Go,” he says. “Get out of here.”

Buck grins, stepping backwards into Tommy. He looks over his shoulder, his expression morphing into something that Eddie recognizes as his horny face as his body spins to match his eyes. At this rate, Eddie estimates he’s about a minute away from getting his other ankle broken or having to listen to another (yeah, another—what the hell, Buck) dissertation on Tommy’s dick.

That’s definitely a hand on Buck’s ass now, and they’re swaying into each other, Buck’s eyes fixed on either Tommy’s mouth or chin.

“Yeah,” Tommy says, low and rough. “We’re gonna…” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Buck.

“Bye!” Buck calls. He’s pushing Tommy out and they’re both laughing and leaning in for another rushed kiss, stumbling over their feet. Eddie rolls his eyes, grinning despite himself.