#and he is their boy for the rest of his life

[sosa2imagines]

Justice!

Warning- Pure fluff, dad Bucky is back!

You had only been gone for an hour. An hour. And yet, Bucky was certain this had been the longest sixty minutes of his life.  

Samuel, their chubby little boy, had been a force of nature from the moment you left. He was fast, too fast for someone who could barely crawl. Every time Bucky sat down, Samuel was off again, his little diapered bottom wiggling as he made his way across the living room floor.  

Bucky had just managed to sit down, sighing in relief, when Samuel appeared in front of him. The baby paused, giving his father a wide, toothless grin before resuming his journey, his diaper rustling as he crawled toward the couch.  

But then, Bucky made the mistake of blinking.  

The next thing he heard was a tiny, pitiful whimper. His heart stopped for a second, and he shot up from his seat, eyes scanning the room.  

“Sammy?”  

And then he saw him.  

Somehow, some way, Samuel had managed to wedge himself between the couch and the wall. His tiny hands pawed at the air, his lower lip wobbling, big teary eyes looking up at Bucky with utter betrayal. The moment their eyes met, Samuel made grabby hands, whimpering louder.  

Bucky was already there, scooping his son into his arms, rubbing his little back. “Hey…hey, I gotcha, buddy. You're okay, you’re safe.”  

Samuel sniffled against his father’s shoulder, then suddenly after few seconds, stiffened.

With an angry pout, he turned his head and pointed furiously at the couch, his chubby finger shaking with righteous indignation.  

Bucky blinked, totally confused, “Uh… what?”  

Samuel huffed and blew a raspberry against Bucky’s cheek, then for good measure, wiped his snot on his father’s shoulder.  

Bucky sighed, shaking his head, “Yeah, okay. I deserved that.”  

Samuel pointed again, demanding justice.  

Bucky followed his finger, realization dawning. “You want me to scold the couch?”  

Samuel nodded, more like wobbled a bit but it counts as a nod.  

Bucky sighed, then turned to the inanimate offender. “Bad couch. Bad. How dare you eat my son? No one scares my boy!” He gave it a small kick for good measure.  

Samuel beamed, his tears forgotten. He clapped his hands, babbling in delight.

Justice had been served.  

Just then, there was a knock at the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Buck? You home?”  

Samuel’s entire body tensed on happiness. He turned his head and let out an excited squeal, his tiny hands flailing.  

Uncle Steve was here.  

Bucky opened the door, and Steve barely had time to step inside before Samuel was reaching for him, babbling excitedly. Steve grinned and took his godson into his arms. “Hey, buddy! How’s my favorite little guy doing?”  

Samuel, however, had more important matters to discuss. He turned, chubby finger once again pointing at the couch, his face serious.  

Steve glanced at Bucky, confused, “Uh… what’s going on?”  

Bucky was already laughing. “Oh, Sammy got stuck behind the couch. I scolded it, but I think he wants justice from you too.”  

Steve, ever the protective godfather, turned to the couch, his expression darkening. “You did what to my godson?”  

Samuel nodded dramatically.  

Steve took a step forward, holding Samuel securely, “I oughta flip you over for that.”  

Then, for good measure, he kicked the couch, not too hard, but enough to make a statement.  

Samuel erupted into happy giggles, clapping his hands in victory.  

Steve turned back to Bucky, smirking. “That good enough?”  

Bucky, still chuckling, nodded. “Oh yeah. Couch is officially an enemy now.”  

Samuel, still in Steve’s arms, let out a satisfied sigh, resting his head against his godfather’s shoulder.

Justice had been served, delightfully.  

And the couch would never be trusted again.  

By the time you got home, the apartment was oddly quiet.  

Too quiet.  

Which, considering you had left your husband alone with your crawling tornado of a baby, was either a very good thing… or a very, very bad thing.  

Kicking off your shoes, you stepped into the living room, only to find Bucky and Steve sitting on the floor, Samuel curled up in Bucky’s arms, half-asleep with a content little sigh.  

Your heart melted at the sight. “Aww, did my baby boy wear you two out?”  

Bucky looked up at you, a smug smile on his face. “Oh, you have no idea.”  

You walked over and sat beside him, reaching out to brush a hand over Samuel’s soft curls. “What happened?”  

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, your son had a run-in with the couch.”  

Your brows furrowed. “The couch?”  

Bucky nodded, face completely serious. “It tried to eat him.”  

You blinked, “I…what?”  

Samuel, barely awake, lifted his head just enough to point at the offending piece of furniture. Even half-asleep, he still looked determined.  

Bucky nodded solemnly. “Don’t worry. We took care of it.”  

Steve leaned in conspiratorially. “We scolded it. I kicked it.”  

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. “You kicked… our couch?”  

Bucky grinned. “Had to. Sammy demanded justice.”  

Steve nodded in agreement. “It was the only way.”  

You glanced between the two of them, then down at your son, who looked so incredibly pleased with himself, before shaking your head with a laugh. “You two are ridiculous.”  

Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Maybe. But look at him.”  

You did. And your heart ached with love at the sight of your baby, safe and happy in his father’s arms.  

Bucky pressed a kiss to Samuel’s forehead, then rested his chin on top of his son’s head, his voice softer now. “Y’know… I spent so long fighting alone. Protecting myself, looking over my shoulder, making sure I was the only one who had to take the hits...” He glanced at Steve, then back at you. “But now… I don’t have to do it alone anymore. Even if the enemy is just a couch.”  

You leaned into him, kissing his cheek. “No, you don’t.”  

Steve clapped a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “We’ve got your back, Buck. Always.”  

Samuel let out a tiny, sleepy sigh, burrowing further into his dad’s chest. Bucky smiled, his heart full.  

Yeah. He wasn’t alone anymore.  

And the couch? It had been defeated.  

Justice had been served.  

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[capseycartwright]

everything that's heavy, i check it at the door (wouldn't want to do it with anyone else)

Eddie had always found Texas to be suffocating, but in the years since he’d left the state, he’d put that down to the stifling heat – surely, he was remembering the way the soaring temperatures of the summer felt, the oppressive heat and humidity of a Texas July affecting the way he remembered life in his home state to be.

It was February now, though, and Eddie still felt like he couldn’t breathe – so it wasn’t the heat, was it?

eddie goes to texas. he fights for christopher, fights with his parents, and loves buck from afar - mostly in that order.

ao3 link

an offering of my own for friends to fiances february.

Eddie had always found Texas to be suffocating, but in the years since he’d left the state, he’d put that down to the stifling heat – surely, he was remembering the way the soaring temperatures of the summer felt, the oppressive heat and humidity of a Texas July affecting the way he remembered life in his home state to be.

It was February now, though, and Eddie still felt like he couldn’t breathe – so it wasn’t the heat, was it?

Deep down, he’d always known that: the heat had long-since been a convenient excuse for his dislike of Texas, a reason to not return. California had better summers, he’d always said – warm, and dry, and close to the beach, unlike El Paso. It was a convenient excuse he could have kept using for the rest of his life, if not for the fact he found himself back in El Paso again, and not for a few days this time – no, this was a longer-term situation.

Eddie hoped it wasn’t too long-term. He had decided against selling his house in LA, in the end, Buck moving in to help him cover the mortgage, but that meant he was stuck in a month-to-month rental in El Paso, his son still living with Eddie’s parents, and everything just felt –

Suffocating. 

“This feels like old times.”

Eddie blinked up at the shadow that was obscuring his view of the late-evening sun. His sister, Sophia, was standing, hands on hips, her dark hair flowing in the evening breeze as she fixed him with a serious look. “I figured I might as well commit to regressing,” he huffed, not moving from where he was lying on the grass. “I’m already back in El Paso – mom and dad are controlling my life. Hiding in the garden because I don’t want to talk to our parents felt like the natural next move.”

Sophia barely concealed an eye roll at his self-depreciating comment but eased herself onto the grass next to him all the same – impressive, given she was nearly six months pregnant. Eddie would hear it about her back, later, but he didn’t quite have it in him to protest, in that moment. 

“I thought that dinner went surprisingly well,” she said, a serious expression on her face as she looked at Eddie.

“Have you lost your mind?”

Sophia cracked, a cackle escaping her mouth as she shook her head. “No, it was bad,” she agreed. “It feels like we’re teenagers again – you’re seventeen, I’m nineteen, and neither of us can do anything right.” 

Eddie grinned. That had been the best part of growing up, sometimes – Sophia was barely a year older than him, and as much as Eddie had borne the brunt of expectation, being the old boy in the family, Sophia had dealt with her fair share of their mother’s expectations too, Helena Diaz having the perfect vision for her daughters lives, one that Sophia had never adhered to. 

Sophia had left for Oregon when she was eighteen, for college, and came back with a degree in interior design, an East coast husband with a terrible beard, a career of her own, and no plans for children – well, until now. Late, by their mother’s standards, the opposite to Eddie, who’d given her a grandchild years too soon. 

“When you have a baby girl you name after mom, you’ll be in her good books,” Eddie hummed, knowing he earned the punch he got from his older sister. That was sort of his job, really, to wind Sophia up - it was in the younger brother contract. 

“Yeah, that’s going to happen when hell freezes over,” Sophia rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to them, Eddie. I know that they like to peck, and push, and they think their way is the only way, the right way – but it’s not. You’re a damn good parent, regardless of what they believe – you’ve been doing this alone for so long, and I know I’m not exactly a parent yet, but I can’t imagine doing it alone. They should be proud of you, for how you’ve managed - not judgemental.” 

Eddie was quiet, for a second. It was true, that for a few years, he had done it alone – but he hadn’t been alone for a long time now. Buck had been the kind of coparent he never thought he deserved, attentive and present, willing to pitch in for the good, and the bad. It had started with Buck being a fun uncle, sure, but his role in Christopher’s life was so much bigger, so much more, now – he was a co parent to Eddie. 

Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to express quite how grateful he was to Buck for that. 

read the rest on ao3

[a-hermit-pining]

LADS Men Role Reversal with Reader

AN: I love the idea of this. Works well with reader pov 🤌🏻🤌🏻 Also if anyone knows a top or gn reader blog for LADS please let me know (I do not own these characters)

Warning: Potential Spoilers. Be Mindful 👺

Pairing: Lads boys x gn reader

Genre: Role reversal & cannon divergence

Summary: What if places are switched. They are the bearer of Aether core and you are the past.

Rafayel:

You walk into the art museum, marveling at the strokes that lifetimes have failed to change. How is it that he still paints the same?

You are drawn to him as moths to flame.

In some divine way, despite being wrenched from your kingdom, fate is merciful to you. It always contrives a way for your path to cross his.

Your powers are long diminished, time is cruel like that. But the years spent in his world have given you enough leverage to hire him as a painter. To commission a portrait of yourself, just so you may have the mercy of watching him paint again.

This time, you wonder, will he, who has left you waiting for so long, remember you? Will he still remember how to love you?

You look at him, his furrowed brows, his pronounced pout, his dramatic tendency to flail and fall. He remains unchanged.

Xavier:

He is there before your eyes, as if conjured by the very moonlight itself.

One moment, you were slaying the Wandered. The next, you blinked to rest your eyes, and he was by your side, calling your name frantically, his hands steadying your shoulders.

You would have felt him, had you not been so tired. How could you not have known? Perhaps this is the last mercy the universe has to offer, to let you meet him for one final lifetime.

And so, it begins again.

The last dance of your last spring with him.

This lifetime will not see him sacrificed. None after this will either, because you will make sure of it.

Picking up your sword, you follow him, sidestepping his mumbled questions with ill-concealed fondness.

That last spring becomes the most beautiful of all the springs you have ever spent beside him.

Zayne:

In every reincarnation, you never quite know when the memories will return. But they always do. Lord Astra makes certain of it, allowing you the agony of foreknowledge.

It is the price you pay for leaving him. For choosing Zayne.

His presence comes at a steep cost.

But the grief of the past has never dampened the joy of another lifetime with him.

It has only made you foolishly stubborn, unyielding in your desire to defy his fate.

You meet him as a friend, a lover, a colleague in some lives. A riddling foreseer in others.

Yet, no matter how much time erodes the traces of your world, he remains untouched. In some twisted amusement, your Lord Astra ensures that Zayne always falls in love with you.

In every life, you cross paths. In every life, Zayne offers you his heart with the same sincerity. And you, despite the centuries of pain, accept it foolishly.

Because no matter the cost, you refuse to break his heart. All the foreknowledge in the world has failed to make you stop loving him.

Sylus:

Head of the Onichynus?

He seriously never stops surprising your ancient senses.

You grin at your mate as he guides you into the embellished mansion of his latest empire. Countless rebirths have failed to dull his chaos.

Somehow, they have also failed to make your heart any wiser.

So, you play your part, the spoiled aristocrat whisked- away to gather intel, watching him roll his eyes at your complaints.

Somewhere along the way, this endless cycle of separation and reunion has stopped aching. Instead, it hums beneath your skin, a yearning that lingers, waiting for him to remember.

He always remembers.

No matter what land you are born into, no matter what name you take, your mate always finds his way back to you.

You only have to wait. To play along with his games.

Who are you to complain, when he has so meticulously planned your first meeting?

Sometimes, even dragons play the part of a sheep.

Caleb:

You watch as he collapses in the academy lobby.

Your heart shudders at the sight of him, his gaunt face, his sunken eyes.

He has lost weight.

You caused this. Your death.

Every day, he wakes earlier than before. Every night, he loses more sleep. Working himself to the bone, chasing perfection, desperate to be the best among the aerospace cadets.

He still wears your dog tag pendant. The one he once gifted to you. It brings you some comfort.

You wish—oh, how you wish, to run to him. To hold him. To tell him you are alive.

To force him to rest. To forbid him from risky missions he volunteers for to progress faster into his role.

Yet, you cannot afford to. Not yet.

Someday, you will return to him. Stronger than you are now. You will make sure he never suffers again. Perhaps he doesn’t need you to do that, but you will no longer allow anyone to control both of your lives.

Not after how close you had come to losing him alongside your grandmother.

This time, you will keep him away from EVER’s claws.

Or rather, this time, you will be the one to hunt the monster that has haunted him for so long.

[boypied]

Slim Pickens

[boyfriend] art donaldson x male reader

summary: art wants to pleasure his boyfriend for putting up with his long training hours.

wc: 700+

notes: MDNI, FDNI, oral sex (r!receiving), swearing, facial fucking, praising kink.

Art finishes up in the bathroom and immediately drops down onto his knees as he looks at your man-spread position, knowing exactly what you want from him. He seductively crawls over to you, making sure to arch his back for the life of him. As he crawls over and rests his hands on your shins, slowly caressing up and down feeling your body quiver beneath his touch, “It's been so long since you've even touched me Art.” You say to him in a low tone and his face contorts with sadness as he realises he's been too focused on tennis and not his lovely boyfriend. “I-I know baby, I promise tonight will be all about you.” Art admits to you with a dark hungry smirk on his face and a lustful look behind his eyes.

“You know how much I love it when you look up at me like that.” You mumble out in a low tone as your eyes focus on your boyfriend down on his knees inbetween your legs his hands grazing over your hardening clothed cock. “This is the least I can do for making you put up with my long, long scheduling hours.” Art lets out in a desperate tone as he continues to palm away at your ever growing cock. You bite away at your lower lip as you feel Art's hands grip either side of your pyjama bottoms, pulling them down to reveal the bush that was concealed, and the further he pulls it down the more eager he becomes as your large meat flops out completely and Art gasps, “F-Fuck, it's been so long. I've forgotten how large... and well endowed you are.” Art says in a serious tone, which causes you to chuckle slightly.

Art's lower lip quivers as he adjusts his body forward, wrapping his lips around your firey red tip that is gushing with pre-cum. His tongue swirls around your tip as your head falls back and your eyes flutter around, feeling the intense pleasure corrupt your body. “M-Mhm!” You grunt out as your eyes completely flutter back, feeling the warmth of his tongue wrap around your tip, “A-AH!” You gasp out as Art slides down taking the entirety of your girthy cock, tracing his tongue along the prominent vein. Art gurgles as your pre-cum and his spit mix together in his mouth as he begins to pick up the pace as he places each hand on either side of your exposed thighs. “O-Oh fuck!” You gasp in pure lust.

You wrap your thighs around his face, pulling him in further, Art buries his face into your pubes. Art's eyes flutter up to meet with yours, and they slightly begin to water as he feels his throat tighten around your length. “P-Pretty Boy.” You mumble out in a sharp grunt as you feel Art's tongue works its way around your girthy length. Art can't help but grow a big smile on his face as he hears your words of affirmation and your body jolts as you look down at his cock-full mouth and how his throat bulges slightly as your hardened cock curves down his throat awaiting for the fountain of cum that will pour down his throat in the upcoming moments.

After a long while of Art desperately sucking the life out of your cock, you near your most desperately needed release. You throw your head back entirely as you grip at the scruff of Art's hair as you manually use his mouth as a fleshlight, he patiently awaits the flood of cum he so desperately deserves. “F-Fuck, im gonna-” You blurt out and Art's eyes widen with excitement, but before you can finish your sentence your eyes flutter back and you shoot your thick creamy load down Art's throat as you hold him in place. You take a couple deep breaths as you release your grip on Art and he pulls away with a loud gurgled gasp as he swallows your entire load.

Art breathes heavily as he stares up at you, “That must've been atleast a couple weeks worth of cum.” You chuckle as you hear his words, you lean forward and pull him up off the floor and onto your lap. “I love you so much, baby, you know that. Right?” You say softly and he nods his head “I know, I know. I love you too.” he confesses and he leans in and softly presses his lips against yours. You moan into the kiss as you taste your own cum in his mouth you pull away and you both look at each other and start laughing, holding one another.

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[yourmidnightlover]

grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader where sunshine reader turns out to be the dominant one in bed

this is just filth.

warnings: handjob, dirty talk? (reader)

bucky never expected this from you. from your sweet, innocent smile. the way you giggle, even at steve’s jokes that are never really that funny. there was no way he could guess that you would be taking him apart like a damn lincoln log set.

“does that feel good, jamie?” you tease him as you work his cock. you knew the effect you were having on him

sitting on the couch in his apartment - a couch you insisted that he get so you could comfortably cuddle while watching movies together - you poised on his lap, just on the edge of his thighs. what had started as a makeout session has now turned into something much more heated.

having been together for nearly 4 months and still not done the deed, mostly because bucky didn’t want to make it seem like that’s the only thing he wanted you for, bucky was pleasantly surprised when his sweet innocent girlfriend was suddenly taking charge of him.

you were pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck, your hand pressed to his still clothed cock. his hands were roaming from your waist to your back to the back of your head, wanting to touch all of you, feel all of you.

“so-oh shit,” bucky nearly fucking whimpers. this strong, beefy super soldier, turning into putty in your small hands.

the team was so fooled. you would bake cookies for them every week. on missions, you never dared to say a single swear word - something steve has come to respect. always wearing the most innocent, frilly little sundresses when you can. and here you are, whispering the dirtiest things in bucky’s ear.

“so hard for me already, baby,” you whisper in his ear, his hips bucking up to press harder against your hand. “and already so eager, too.” you giggle. you fucking giggle.

“please?” he begs. “god, please, sweets,” he whispers oh-so-needy, his hips still rutting into your hand.

“please what?” you take your hand away from his cock. “use your words like a big boy.”

he lets out a frustrated huff as he throws his head back, his hands settling on your waist and gripping you for dear life.

“please touch me?” he asks. “please touch me, please?” his desperation is palpable as his chest rises and falls.

“… here?” you ask, your hands gripping his broad shoulders firmly. he shakes his head. “how about… here?” you move your hands to his hair, gently yanking on his longer locks.

“fuck,” he moans as his head is tilted up, your lips connecting with his neck and leaving the prettiest marks he swears he’s ever seen. he can’t even complain, so lost in your touch, grateful for whatever you were willing to give him.

“or…” you continue to kiss his neck as you trail your hands down to the front of his sweatpants. he lifts his hips to help you push the waistband down. “here,” your hands finally connect with his member, your touch so gentle he wouldn’t even be able to tell if he weren’t so hyper aware of you right now.

he whimpers at the feather-light touch. “yes,” he nods eagerly. “right there, please?” he opens his eyes, looking down to see your small hand wrapped around his member. truth be told, the sight is better than he’s imagined - which he has… a lot.

“so polite for me,” you praise him and his hips rut into your touch. “there we go, baby,” you firmly wrap your hand around him, moving your hands up and down teasingly slow. you give him this smirk, making sure he knew what you were doing.

he moans for you, a debouched, wanton moan. a sound that he’s never elicited in his overextended life on earth. yet, you brought it out of him. he rests his forehead against yours, his hands still gripping your waist but now traveling to your hips. to rest there comfortably.

your hand picks up the pace, gripping him a bit tighter as you sweep your thumb over his leaky tip. “suck a pretty cock, jamie,” you say as you look down. “all mine.”

“yours,” he mimics your words. “all yours, sweets. forever.” he assures you - not that you ever had any doubts.

you pick up the pace, working your hand over his a bit quicker as his breaths come in shorter. his eyes shut as your foreheads remain together; he’s getting close. “so pretty like this,” you praise him. “coming undone for me. being such a good fucking boy, too.” his hips buck up again at the praise, he’s teetering right on the edge, just needing one more push. “finish for me, baby. cum all over my hand. make a dirty fucking mess for me, jamie.”

and he’s gone. his jaw drops as his hips work up to meet your hand, a cry of your name leaving his lips as his come spills from his pretty cock. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer as you work him through his high.

he swears your the best things that’s ever happened to him. it’s not just this - no. it’s your sweet voice cooing to him when he wakes up from a nightmare when you decide to sleep over. it’s you cooking his favorite meal ‘just because.’ it’s just you, dammit. everything about you made him want to hold you close in his arms and never let you go. he wanted to protect you and guard you with his life. he wanted to marry you - fuck. yeah, yeah. he did want to marry you. he wanted you to have his kids, too. this life-altering realization coming just as he… quite ironic, isn’t it?

[thenewgirl76]

Babies Having Raising Babies

Deciding to visit Amity Park and hang out with Danny for a bit before getting back to her globetrotting, Ellie arrives just in time to witness Plasmius ambush and abduct her original/big brother. Knowing a direct confrontation won't end well she opts to follow the older halfa from a greatly lengthened distance.

Once she makes it to the castle and sneaks into the lab she finds Danny out cold and now significantly younger, with Vlad standing over him holding an empty syringe. It takes everything in Ellie not to rush her demented creator right then and there and instead wait it out for an opportune moment to strike.

When Vlad's in the process of placing a rather nefarious looking device on the unconscious three year old's head is when Phantasm acts, grabbing up Vlad's spectral energy neutralizer and trapping him in it before he can get his guard back up. With the crazed billionaire subdued she then thoroughly wrecks the lab and takes off with Danny.

Even after she's well out of range of Wisconsin Ellie doesn't stop, continuing to fly at top speed until all her energy's been spent. She barely manages to avoid crash landing into the barn she came across before blacking out from sheer exhaustion.

She eventually stirs at the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pie. The sight that greets her upon rousing is her now little brother wide awake and happily scarfing down a generous slice of pecan pie, as well as a boy her age holding the rest, watching them both from a respectful distance.

It's only through the frantic promise of telling no-one about them and offering of more food that Ellie doesn't go invisible, snatch up Danny, and hightail it out of the barn in a blind panic. The boy introduces himself after she calms down as Jon Kent, explaining she and Danny were currently in Kansas and in his grandparents' barn.

And true to his word, Jon keeps the two of them a secret and consistently supplies them with food, even goes a step further by giving some of his old clothes to Danny and periodically sneaking them into the house to use the shower.

Though suspicious of his kindness in the beginning, only taking advantage for Danny's sake, it isn't long before Ellie comes to trust the farmboy and feel quite a bit of guilt for taking so much and giving nothing in return, no matter how many times Jon tells her he doesn't mind and is happy to help.

Overtime the two teens grow comfortable enough to share the more secretive parts of their lives, Jon as Superboy and Ellie both as Phantasm and what led to her first crashing into the Kent's barn with Danny. Further along the way the half ghost and half kryptonian start to develop feelings for each other.

For the first time in her short life Ellie isn't so strongly against staying in one place for extended periods of time. Unconventional as the whole situation is, technically being a runaway along with now having someone she was responsible for, she could get used to all of this. The only downside is that Danny, having been stripped of nearly all his memories thanks to whatever Vlad injected into him and now too young to know any better won't stop calling her and Jon Mommy and Daddy. Jon sees no harm in it and thinks it's cute. But Ellie just knows anyone who hears is going to get the wrong idea.

This is unfortunately proven when one day Jon's dad finally returns from a team mission offworld and not too soon after must deal with Livewire. When Jon finds out and rushes off to help he doesn't realize Danny is following him invisibly, wanting to see him in action. Throughout the entirety of the fight Superboy is blissfully unaware of the presence of his girlfriend's little brother, only to be unpleasantly surprised once Livewires been taken down and Danny unexpectedly appears, cheering for him.

Before his dad can question him Phantasm makes her own appearance and proceeds to scold Danny for wandering off, adding to Superman's confusion and giving Jon a bad feeling. That's when the bomb drops as Danny, feeling properly contrite attempts to appease Ellie, apologizing to "Mommy" before expressing that he wanted to watch "Daddy" fight bad guys.

Immediately Jon finds himself cringing. He doesn't want to, but he has to. So he slowly turns to take in his father's expression. And just as he feared, his dad is looking deathly pale and seconds away from having a heart attack. Okay. Maybe Ellie had a point about nipping this in the bud before someone jumped to conclusions.

[thatoneautisticshark]

Okay, okay, but consider: Ghost who cannot for the life of him figure out how to show his appreciation for the team like a normal person and the rookies are all weirded out by some of the shit he does for Price, Gaz, and Soap (memorizing oddly specific stuff about them like a stalker, giving them gifts that feel weird as hell like teeth and bullet casings, lurking behind them like a cryptid, etc.) and the boys are just like "Oh no this is fine. Sweet, even. Ghost is the sweetest, just awkward." and there's just this brick wall of a man watching them through the corner of his eye in the distance.

Idk if you can see the vision or if I'm just delusional but I figured I'd throw it out there <3

Yup. Yes absolutely. This is him.

The gifts he gives seem so out there and weird. But they are actually the sweetest and well thought through.

He gives Johnny rocks and the most random things like gum wrappers, and all the rookies wonder how terrified of ghost Johnny is to accept that.

But in reality Johnny collects rocks, and he likes gluing things like shiny gum wrappers in one of his scrap books.

He straight up gives Kyle bullets, like a tonne of different bullets, and everyone assumes it's a threat.

But Simon just knows Kyle is really interested in different guns and bullets, and collects them, so whenever he gets a chance he nicks bullets that Kyle doesn't have.

Price he gives cigars, and the rookies assume it's bribary.

It is bribary.

He also gives all of them can tabs, which the rookies question why the fuck can tabs, like he is so weird. But they all have a silly little trading deal of a can tab for a kiss, and Simon collects every single can tab he can to give them.

He is apparently really weird because he will just headbut people or rest his head on theirs and the rookies say it's sooo unsettling.

Meanwhile The team always feels so lucky. Because Simon is weird about touch, he often isn't up to too much touch, but he'll do that, resting on them, totally trusting them and having touch without to much.

Soap also love headbuts people.

I love silly guy ghost. Absolutely brilliant idea

[sophsbookstore]

New Beginnings

Quinn Hughes x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word Count: 3225

A/N: HE'S HERE!! Shout out to the anon who gave the name idea, and thank you to everyone who sent ideas (I wrote them down for future use, don't worry!)

also I wanted to get this out fast so apologies for no banner, but enjoy this gif!

Masterlist can be found here!

The soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound breaking the quiet stillness of the hospital room. The small room, once sterile and impersonal, had transformed into something so much warmer in the hours since your son had arrived. The windows let in a gentle stream of moonlight, casting a calming glow over the room. The air smelled faintly of lavender from the small bottle of essential oil you’d brought from home, a small comfort in this strange, sterile place. The bed, with its crisp white linens and worn quilted blanket, was a far cry from the chaos of labor, but now it was filled with love.

Quinn sat beside you, his large frame almost swallowing the space beside you as he held your newborn son in his arms. His baby boy. His son. The words still felt surreal, even hours after the birth. The emotions that coursed through you—the love, the overwhelming sense of joy, the tender affection for the little being Quinn was gently cradling in his arms—were beyond words.

Quinn looked down at his son with such tenderness, his eyes full of awe as he gazed at the tiny life in his arms. His son, with a head of soft, dark hair and tiny hands that seemed too small to belong to such a big world. Quinn couldn’t stop smiling, and neither could you, though you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell in your chest as you watched him.

"He's perfect," Quinn whispered, his voice barely more than a soft breath. His fingers gently stroked the baby’s cheek, a movement so tender it almost felt like he was afraid to touch him too much, as if he were afraid of breaking something so precious.

You could only nod, your eyes brimming with tears as you took in the sight of your family—your little family—finally together. You hadn’t expected it to feel like this. You thought you understood love, you thought you understood what it meant to have someone in your life who mattered more than anything else. But this? This was something else entirely. Your son was here, and with him, a whole new world had opened up.

“I can’t believe he’s finally here,” you whispered, your voice raw with emotion. The pain of labor still a distant memory now that your son was in your arms, but the rush of feelings that came with becoming a mother, of seeing Quinn as a father, was all-consuming.

Quinn’s eyes flickered toward you, his gaze soft and full of admiration. He shifted, making sure your son was safe in his arms as he leaned closer to you. “He’s so small. I can’t believe we made him.”

You smiled, your hand reaching out to rest on his arm, the touch gentle and comforting. “He’s perfect, Quinn. Just like you.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no real humor in the sound. Instead, there was awe. “You really think so?”

You nodded, the smile not leaving your face. “I do. He looks just like you, you know.”

Quinn let out a soft laugh, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders relax even more as the moment between the three of you felt almost too perfect to be real. “I don’t know about that. He’s so small, I don’t know if he even has a chance of looking like me. But I hope he gets your smile.” He paused, his eyes falling to the baby in his arms. “I hope he gets your kindness too.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you turned your head to look at Quinn. “You’re going to be such an amazing dad.”

He met your gaze, his eyes soft and full of warmth. “We’re in this together, right? I know I’m gonna screw up sometimes, but I’ll do everything I can to make sure he has the best life possible. Just like you’re gonna be the best mom.” He paused, looking back at the little bundle in his arms, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s lucky to have you.”

The lump in your throat returned, but you swallowed it down, wanting to savor this moment. “He’s lucky to have both of us.” You looked back at your son, his tiny face scrunched up as he slept peacefully in Quinn’s arms. “I can’t believe he’s ours.”

Quinn’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the world outside the hospital room seemed to disappear. It was just the three of you, tucked away in this quiet, safe place. The bond between the two of you had always been strong, but now it felt like it had deepened in a way neither of you had expected. Your love for each other, for this little life you’d created, was unlike anything you’d ever known.

“I’m just so happy he’s here,” Quinn whispered, his voice full of sincerity. “So happy we’re finally parents. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my whole life.”

And in that moment, as you all huddled together in the soft glow of the hospital room, surrounded by the love you’d created, you knew that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a whole new chapter in your life—one that would be filled with challenges, but also so much joy. Because, as Quinn had said, this little one was yours. Your family. And nothing would ever be the same again.

The peaceful calm of the hospital room was disrupted by the sudden buzz of Quinn's phone vibrating on the bedside table. He glanced down at the screen, a small frown of concentration crossing his face as he saw the name flashing across it.

"It's Jack," Quinn murmured, his thumb swiping the screen to answer the text.

You watched as Quinn quickly read the message, his eyes scanning the words before a wide grin slowly spread across his face. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and you saw the excitement in his eyes. "Jack says everyone’s on their way. My parents, your parents, and Luke. They’re all coming to meet him."

You smiled softly, your heart fluttering in your chest. “That’s so sweet. I’m so glad they can be here.”

Quinn nodded, still smiling as he typed back a quick response, then placed his phone back down. He turned to look at you, his hand resting on your knee. “I’ll let them in when they get here, but we need to put him down for a second, okay? You need to rest for a bit.”

You nodded, though you didn’t want to let go of your baby, even for a moment. But you understood. Quinn had been so gentle, so attentive with him since he was born, and you knew he’d want to be the one to greet everyone and show them the little one.

Carefully, Quinn shifted the baby from his arms, cradling him gently as he placed him in the small bassinet beside your bed. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at the momentary separation, but it was fleeting. You could already feel the warmth of your little family growing stronger with every passing second.

Quinn leaned down and kissed your forehead, squeezing your hand. “I’ll be right back, I just want to make sure everyone’s settled and they don’t overwhelm you.” He gave you one last reassuring smile before walking to the door, opening it just as your parents and his came into the room.

The air in the room shifted as soon as the door opened, the sound of footsteps and the low hum of excited conversation filling the small space. You watched as Quinn's parents, your parents, Jack, and Luke all filed into the room all carrying various blue balloons and baby toys, their faces lighting up as they caught sight of the two of you. It was like a wave of warmth washing over you—this was your family, all here to celebrate the new life you had just welcomed into the world.

Quinn’s mom was the first to reach the bed, her arms open wide as she enveloped you in a tight hug. "Oh, sweetie," she whispered, pulling back to look at you with bright eyes, “I’m so proud of you. He’s beautiful.”

You smiled warmly, hugging her back as she ran a hand over your hair. "Thank you," you replied softly, “we’re so happy he’s finally here.”

Quinn’s dad, standing behind her, stepped forward next, a proud smile plastered across his face as he leaned down to give you a hug. “You both did great. He’s lucky to have parents like you.”

Your own parents were close behind, both of them visibly overwhelmed with emotion as they approached. Your mom was already tearing up as she gave you a gentle hug, holding you a little longer than usual. “He’s so perfect. I can’t believe I’m a grandmother now.”

You giggled softly, feeling a surge of happiness in your chest. “I know, it’s so surreal, but in the best way.”

Your dad, who had been standing back a bit, gave Quinn a hearty slap on the back before coming over to give you a warm hug. “You’re gonna be amazing parents, both of you. We’re so proud.”

Quinn gave his parents a brief hug as well, before turning to Jack and Luke. Jack, who had been practically jumping up and down, immediately pulled Quinn into a bear hug. “Congrats, man,” he said excitedly, clapping his brother’s back. “You’re a dad. Holy crap, I can’t believe it.”

Luke, standing behind Jack, offered a knowing smile and gave you a nod of approval. "Congrats," he added, his voice low but warm.

Jack, after finally letting go of Quinn, immediately moved toward the bassinet where their son lay, his eyes locked on the tiny figure. “Let me see him!” he said, his excitement clear in his voice. The rest of the group followed suit, gathering around the bed, their eyes on the little boy.

“Everyone, this is our son,” you said softly, your voice full of love as you gestured to the baby in the bassinet. “This is Casey Jack Hughes.”

There was a brief pause as everyone took in the name, the soft sounds of admiration filling the room. Then, Jack’s face lit up in pure delight, his eyes wide with happiness as he leaned closer to the baby. “Casey Jack?” He practically shouted. “Oh my God, that’s awesome!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Jack’s excitement. Quinn, standing beside you, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, his eyes warm as he shared a quiet smile with you. You both had kept the name a secret for so long, but now, hearing Jack’s reaction, you couldn’t be more happy with your choice.

“You like it?” you asked, your voice full of affection.

“Like it?” Jack repeated, beaming. “I love it! I’m so honored. Casey Jack—CJ. That’s what I’m gonna call him. CJ, what do you think of that, buddy?” Jack looked down at the baby with a huge grin, his voice turning soft as he spoke to the tiny life in front of him. “Yeah, CJ’s got a nice ring to it.”

You laughed, the warmth in the room filling your heart. “You’re gonna spoil him, aren’t you?”

Jack winked at you, his excitement palpable. “I’m gonna be the best uncle ever. You’re both lucky to have me around.” He looked down at CJ again, his fingers gently brushing the baby’s tiny hand. “What do you think, little guy? You gonna remember me as the coolest uncle when you grow up?”

Quinn, his own heart swelling with joy, leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before giving his brother a side-eye. “Easy there, Jack. We’re gonna have to make sure he gets some sleep, too, you know?”

Jack just grinned, completely undeterred. “I’ll be gentle, promise. But CJ’s gonna know who his favorite uncle is, right?”

“Definitely,” Quinn said, rolling his eyes fondly. “But let’s give him a minute. He’s still brand new.”

Your parents smiled, their eyes filled with warmth as they took a step back to let Jack have his moment. “You’ve got a great name, little Casey,” your dad added softly, his voice full of pride. “We can’t wait to watch you grow.”

It was overwhelming, in the best way possible—the amount of love that surrounded you and your new family. The world outside felt distant now, as if everything had fallen into place in this tiny hospital room. There would be challenges ahead, but in this moment, you felt at peace. You were surrounded by family, you had the love of Quinn, and your son, Casey, was already so deeply cherished by everyone.

Quinn squeezed your hand, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “This is just the beginning,” he whispered. “Our family, it’s perfect.”

—

The morning light filtered through the windows of your home, casting a soft glow over the living room as Quinn carefully stepped inside, carrying the baby carrier in one hand. Your heart swelled as you watched him—your strong, gentle Quinn—carrying your son into the house for the first time. It felt so surreal, but in the best possible way.

After a long night in the hospital, full of excitement and happy tears, you’d finally arrived home. Your legs were still a little unsteady, but the warmth and comfort of being in your own space made everything feel a little easier. There was something so peaceful about being home with your family—your new family—and you couldn’t wait to settle into this new chapter of your life.

Quinn glanced over at you, his eyes soft as he set the carrier down on the couch. “Alright, babe. Get some rest. I’ll take care of everything with Casey while you recharge.”

You smiled tiredly, nodding. “I’m not that tired, I promise. I just need a minute.”

“Hey, I know how you’re feeling,” he said, his voice gentle as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot. I’ll handle this part, you take the time you need.”

Your eyes softened as you looked up at him. You could see the quiet pride in his face as he looked at your son in the carrier, his hands hovering over the little one as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. It was still amazing to see Quinn, the man you’d loved for so long, now in this role—the role of a father. It felt like everything had fallen into place.

You nodded, though you didn’t immediately walk away. Instead, you stayed where you were, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching as Quinn carefully lifted the baby carrier, cradling it with one arm while the other held onto the handle. His movements were slow and deliberate, careful not to disturb the baby.

The way he looked at Casey, so full of awe and tenderness, made your heart ache with love. It was as if, in those moments, the rest of the world didn’t matter. There was only Quinn, only your little boy, and only the home you’d created together.

He turned toward the hallway and glanced over his shoulder, catching your eyes. “Come on,” he said softly. “I’m going to show Casey his new room.”

With a small sigh, you pushed off the counter and walked toward him. The sight of Quinn gently carrying the carrier through your house, as if he was guiding his son into the world, was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. And as much as you wanted to rest, you couldn’t help but want to be there, to be a part of this moment.

You followed him quietly down the hallway, your steps light as you took in the sight of your home. The walls you had carefully chosen, the pictures you’d hung together, the quiet space you’d made for this family of three. It all felt so much more real now.

Quinn reached the nursery door and stopped just outside, holding the baby carrier steady. He turned to you with a soft smile, his eyes gleaming with pride. “This is it. His room.”

You peered inside, your eyes scanning the soft blue walls, the crib tucked in the corner, and the shelves lined with tiny stuffed animals. Everything about the room felt peaceful and full of love, just like the rest of the house. It had been a labor of love, carefully decorated with the anticipation of this very moment.

“He’s going to love it here,” you said, your voice a little thick with emotion. It felt like this room was made just for him, and somehow, seeing it all come together made the reality of being parents feel even more overwhelming.

“I think so, too,” Quinn murmured, gently setting the carrier down on the changing table. “I can’t wait to watch him grow up here. I can’t wait to see all the milestones—his first steps, his first words…everything.” He turned back toward you, a little sheepish. “I know it’s going to be a lot of work, but I’m ready for it. I want to be there for every little thing.”

You walked into the room, standing next to him as you both looked down at the carrier, the tiny figure of your son peacefully asleep inside. The sight of him, so small and perfect in his new world, made your heart swell with pride.

“We’re going to be great parents,” you said softly, your hand brushing against his arm. “We’re doing this together.”

Quinn smiled, his expression softening. “I’m so glad you’re with me through all of this. We’ve got this, right?”

“Absolutely,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Together. Always.”

Carefully, Quinn unbuckled the straps of the baby carrier, lifting Casey gently into his arms. The baby stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small body relaxing against Quinn’s chest. You couldn’t help but admire how natural it all looked, how Quinn seemed so comfortable in this new role, how Casey fit perfectly in his arms as though he had always belonged there.

You stepped forward, guiding Quinn toward the crib. As he gently lowered Casey into the soft blankets, you watched in awe, your heart overflowing. Quinn stood there for a moment, just gazing down at their son, his expression full of love and admiration.

“He’s perfect,” Quinn murmured quietly, almost to himself, as he stood beside the crib, his hand resting on the edge.

You smiled, your hand finding Quinn’s as you joined him by the crib. “He really is.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a long moment, just looking at your son, feeling the weight of this beautiful new chapter in your lives. Everything had changed in an instant—your world now revolved around Casey, and in so many ways, it felt like you were living in a dream.

But as you stood there, hand in hand, watching your little boy peacefully sleep in his new room, you knew one thing for sure: This was only the beginning.

And with Quinn by your side, there was nothing you couldn’t face.

[ashwhowrites]

Oooh! I caught them this time! Yay!! I always miss ur requests! I’m so excitedddddd! 🤩

Can I ask for a Steve Harrington x reader fic w/ breeding kink? Like maybe he and reader have been together for a min and they’re out w/ Dusty and between watching him with the younger boy and maybe smiling and waving at a random baby reader is kinda watching him dreamy. So once they get a sec alone he’s like what? And she just smiles and is like “ur gonna be such a good dad”. And it DOES something to Steve. He plays cool and questions her like oh u think about that huh? And she’s like of course, I can’t wait to have ur babies. And Steve is like alright goodbye, drags her out and takes her home and smut breeding breedy smut.

Please and thank youuuuu 🤤 I love ur writing and def love ur Steve. I’ve never requested before and the anticipation is killing me already lol!!

Last one from my drafts :( none of this is proofread, apologies if it's a mess. I hope you find this and are still interested!!

Baby talk

It was common for Steve to hangout with Dustin. It was sorta babysitting in a way but Steve didn't feel that way. Y/N loved hanging with with her boyfriend and enjoyed when Dustin tagged along. It warmed her heart seeing Steve take care of Dustin and the friendship they had.

At first she thought it was sweet and adorable. But now that they've been together for over two years, thinking of their future together and growing more serious by the day, seeing him interact with all the kids sparked something inside of her.

~

It wasn't a surprise to see Dustin in the backseat as Steve pulled up to her place. She smiled at the young boy through the window before she entered Steve's car.

"How are my boys doing?" She asked as she clicked in her seatbelt, leaning over to greet her boyfriend with a soft kiss. Dustin pretended to gag behind them before he greeted her.

"Good. Dustin was telling me all about Hellfire....again," Steve said with a tight smile. A look in his eyes that Y/N could easily read as annoyed. She giggled and turned her attention to Dustin as he began to talk about it all over again, Steve peeling off down the road.

It didn't take long to wind up at the small restaurant, Steve as the gentlemen he was rushed out of the car to open her door. She thanked him as she slid out of the car, grasping his hand as they walked in, Dustin a few feet behind.

They settled at their table, a small giggle catching their attention. The couple turned their heads and saw a mom with a toddler at a table near by. The boy was clapping and there was a gummy smile on his face. Y/N returned her attention back to Dustin but Steve was in a trance. The little boy kept his eyes locked with Steve as he waved. Steve smiled and waved back.

All throughout their small lunch, Y/N couldn't look away from Steve as he entertained the toddler. The toddler loved him and Y/N couldn't blame him, she'd stare at Steve all day too. Which she has done and which she has been doing for the past hour. A dreamy look in her eyes as he made faces to the toddler.

Steve noticed his girlfriend's stare. Every time he looked back at her, she was already looking at him. A small smile on her face. Dustin filled the car ride with another story, but Y/N's mind was racing. She knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Steve, but damn she wanted to have his babies the second they got home. She wanted to be claimed by him and bounded together for life. To have the pride of bringing a baby into Steve's life.

She was lost in her daydream that she didn't notice Dustin got out of the car until the door slammed.

"What's up with you? You've been smiling all day," Steve laughed, giving her a quick look before he pulled off down the road.

"Nothing, just seeing you with that little boy. You're going to be such a good dad," she replied honestly. She thought the words would make Steve a little nervous, but he seemed to have an opposite reaction.

Steve felt his face burn and a twitch in his jeans. He thought about kids but hearing his girlfriend admit she noticed he would be a good dad excited him. He tried to not make it a big deal, playing it cool as he looked back over at her.

"Oh! You think about that?" He asked

"All the time. I can't wait to have little Steve babies," she joked even though she meant it. But Steve didn't crack a smile or laugh, he had this focused look on his face as his foot slammed down on the gas petal.

"Steve! You're speeding!" She scolded, looking at the speedometer.

"I don't care. I need to get you naked in my bed now," his voice was deep and serious. Her playful attitude shifted as she felt her thighs clench.

"Oh?" She teased, her hand moving to land on his thigh. She slowly slid it up, enjoying the way his breath hitched. "Do you have a secret kink you are hiding from me?"

Steve rolled his eyes at her teasing, but he couldn't help but melt in his seat as her hand moved closer to his covered cock. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white as her hand landed over his growing hard-on.

"Look at that," she whispered as she leaned over to his ear. Her hot breath fanned his neck as he harshly swallowed. "I should've known."

Steve somehow pressed harder against the gas, the car zooming down the street as he headed in the direction of his house. His breathing was heavy as she rubbed him over his jeans, teasing him the whole way.

He could barely think as he pulled into his driveway, moving fast as he raced them both out of the car, Y/N barely keeping up as he yanked her into the house. As usual the house was empty, leaving them alone.

Steve didn't waste a second before his lips were pressed against hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hands moved to undo her pants, slipping them off. He placed his hands under her thighs, making her jump as she wrapped herself around his body. He moaned into the kiss as her warm cunt pressed against his jeans. He stumbled into his room, blindly searching for his bed as he dropped her on the mattress.

Their lips disconnected as her back landed against his sheets. She propped herself on her elbows as he stood over her and removed his shirt. She moaned as his hairy chest came into view, her hands already reaching forward to run her fingers through it. She loved Steve's chest hair, it added so much manly potential to him and it drove her insane.

Steve reconnected their lips as she played with his chest hair, he showered underneath her touch his cock growing harder. He softly pushed her down, climbing on top of her as they were messily made out. His hands skimmed up her body, his fingers teased the band of her underwear. Her stomach was rising up and down with every fast intake of breath.

His tongue met hers and she couldn't help but whine. His fingers slid into her underwear until he met her soaked cunt. Her hands moved into his hair as she braced herself when his fingers easily slipped inside of her.

Her insides burned as he fingered her, he moaned as her tongue worked against his. She made his head fuzzy and all he could focus on was how badly he wanted to fuck her until she was screaming under him. He wanted to cum inside of her, paint her walls and put a baby inside of her.

Needing air, she pulled back. Her eyes rolling in the back of her head as Steve's skillful fingers worked inside of her. Steve looked down at her, his eyes full of lust as he watched her body.

"Steve, please," she whines, her eyes fluttering open. She moaned at the look in his eyes, they were dark, needy, and desperate. She loved having all the power over him, that she had him wrapped around her finger.

"What do you want, baby?" He asked, his voice thick with arousal. He kept his pace, loving how she sucked him in and coated him with her wetness.

"Fuck me. I want you inside of me," she moaned, "I want you to fill me."

Her words edged Steve on, his fingers curling up as she withered under him. "Yeah? Your sweet pussy wants to be stuffed full of daddy's cum?"

Y/N's body reacted to his words, easily showing him he said the right thing. She tried to speak but nothing came out but choked whines. He leaned down and softly kissed down her body, removing his fingers as he became eye level with her dripping cunt. Her hands lost its grip on his hair, reaching for the sheets below. He slid her underwear down her legs, tossing them to the side.

She twitched as she waited for his next move, impatiently. Steve took his time, his cock was suffocating in his pants but he forced himself to deal with it. He grabbed her ankles and placed them on his shoulders, she squealed as he used his fingers to spread her pussy open. He drooled at the sight, leaning in as he pressed his tongue flat against her. He licked up and down, coating his tongue. Her throat was dry as her sounds all cracked. She dove her fingers into his messy hair, forcing his head further against her.

He groaned at the taste on his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he sucked on her clit. He loved hearing her sounds and knowing he was the only one that got to see her like this. He was the only one who got to taste her. And he was going to be the only one to put a baby in her.

"Yes, Steve, fuck," she praised, her hips rocking against his face as she felt an orgasm approaching. Steve just needed a small taste of her, a smirk on his face as he pulled away. Leaving her and her cunt begging for more.

She wanted to groan in protest but knew how to behave. Steve had no problem giving her anything she wanted if she was good about it.

"Pretty pussy is pulsing for me. So needy. Sweet girl is in heat huh? Craving my thick cock to satisfy you?" His dirty words made her shiver. She began to whine pathetically, her mind all mush as she reached for Steve's skin.

He stepped back to strip the rest of his clothes. She fought to keep her eyes open, looking at his naked body from head to toe. Her eyes zoned in on his throbbing cock. He began to softly pump it, the action making her head spin. She could study his body for hours. She's had sex plenty of times with Steve but his cock amazes her every time. He was thick and veiny, and she clenched her thighs as she replayed what it feels like inside of her.

"Come on daddy, breed my little cunt," she said as she spread open her legs. Desperately needing him to slide inside of her.

Steve was quick to position himself on top of her, holding his throbbing cock against her entrance. He guided himself inside of her, instantly moaning as her cunt began to suck him in.

"How long have you been thinking about having my babies? How long have you been wanting my cock raw inside of you?"

Y/N hated that he asked questions because she couldn't think of a single word. All she could give as a response was moans and whines as he begins to pound her. Her nails gripped his neck, holding his head as he moved perfectly inside of her.

"I've been fantasizing about pumping my sperm inside of you every single day. Jerking myself off as I picture how perfect you'd feel around me raw and bare. And fu-ck, better than I imagined," he moaned out his words as he moved his hands on the sides of her head, using the leverage to push himself deeper.

"Daddy's cum- starved breeding whore" he growled

"Oh fuckkkkk," she whined, the nickname brought her closer to the edge. "Close, please."

Steve moved one hand down their bodies, easily finding her clit. Her thighs shook as her clit burned with need.

With how turned on she was in the car ride, she barely could hold it together as his cock and fingers on her clit brought her to a new level. She clenched around him and Steve knew she was close.

"That's it, milk me sweetheart. I know you want it. I know that slutty pussy wants my hot cum painting your walls. All my sperm emptied inside of you."

"Jesus Steve," she breathlessly laughed. She's never heard his mouth so dirty but fuck it worked well. "You're so fucking hot like this."

"Yeah? Want me to fuck you raw every day until I get you pregnant? Have you whenever I want you. Don't even need to wear panties, stay bare for me. Let me slip in when I feel the need to empty my balls inside of you?"

"Yes, fuck, yes. Please please. I need to cum," she begged. Even if she wanted to wait for an answer, she wasn't able to. Her body snapped and she came.

Steve shivered as he felt her cum on him. He puffed air out of his nose as he focused on his release. Her hands skimmed down his back, landing on his ass as she pushed him further inside of her.

"Come on, daddy. Fill me up. I want your cum, every last drop. Breed me, give me a baby. Show everyone how well you filled me up. How I belong to you."

A shiver ran up Steve's spine at her words, firing his body up as he gripped her hips and pounded himself harder into her. Her head was thrown back as she tried to handle the new pace. Her cunt was aching but he felt way too good inside of her.

"Fuck gonna fill you up until your belly is swollen. Not going to-" he moaned, "stop until...fuck...until I breed you."

He felt his orgasm building, desperately chasing it as the bed squeaked underneath them. His body was beginning to sweat. Drops dripping down his neck and Y/N craved to taste it on her tongue.

"Right there, yes, yes, fuck yes," Steve moaned as he came. His body shook uncontrollably as he emptied himself inside of her. He panted as he rested his head against her forehead, catching his breath as he continued to push himself into her. His eyes bored into hers as he let her cunt milk him for everything he has.

He collapsed on her body, still inside of her, as he finished. His heart raced as he continued to catch his breath. Their sweaty bodies sticking together as they both sat in silence. Both feeling his cum resting inside of her.

"God, I love you," he whispered against her skin. He shifted to see her face, leaning in to softly peck her lips. "I can't wait to marry you."

Her heart swelled at his words as she reconnected their lips.

[werezmastarbucks]

of those who found out

in which yoongi protects you

fluff, hurt/comfort

yoongi x nonKorean!f!reader x established relationship, husband!yoongi, protective!yoongi

word count: 5439

warnings / tags: violence, bodily harm, wound description, parasocial, mentions of hypothetic suicide, angry yoongi / angry jungkook, fuckboy jungkook, street fighting, married members

1.

Newly married. When Yoongi told you he managed to claw not two, not three weeks for the honeymoon, but four, you spun about the room. The world tour after the reunion has been all kinds of unexpected, gruelling and exciting, and lonely, for an inexperienced you. Now, you got to marry the person you loved, and not have to share him with the rest of the world, for a full month. Osaka is unusually fresh and beautiful in early April: cherries in full bloom, blue skies, mild wind. And your dream boy would be with you this whole time; as you watched his preoccupied face, frowned by the pressures of his work, his second life, the need to pretend, the need to smile, change to relaxation; the weather outside the plane window changed as well. Osaka had the special kind of blue in its sky, the almost dream-like color, as if you weren't really there. Every time you happened in that city, it always seemed like you layered into parts and not all of you was present, but in a good way. People in Osaka didn't care about faces; Yoongi would always drop his shoulders comfortably, making his wide and tough frame a little softer. He didn't wear a mask in Osaka, and didn't pull his cap so far down that he couldn't see where he was going. Seeing him become nonchalant like that, looking around instead of straight ahead and down, swing his arms as he walked, and swing his head to look at buildings and trees; it was just happy. Your left hand was pleasantly and unusually heavy with the new ring; you would raise your palm against the bright sky to look how the sun sneaks in between your middle and ring finger; and catch Yoongi looking at you. You knew intuitively, as it always happens when you feel on top of the world, that it would only get better and better with time. As if nothing bad can ever happen to such people as you: young and happy and so strong. Whatever parts of him weren't healed yet, he was now at least okay with them, and was learning to embrace them. He wasn't screaming in his songs anymore. His voice acquired the soft murmur again. He smiled so much nowadays, showing his small delicate teeth, as if he finally learnt to click and switch, from Suga to Yoongi, and back again.

"You always looked kinda Tokyo to me", you noted, studying his face. Yoongi's eyes were narrowed as he watched the streets slowing down behind the window of the train.

"Shin-Imamiya", he hummed, as if he didn't hear you at first, seconds before the soft faceless voice announced the station. Yoongi's hand squeezed yours, and you ouched out of habit; he couldn't get used to the rings, either. Was accustomed to holding your hand very tightly, pushing the engagement ring with briar rose gemstone into your nearby fingers. His hold loosened immediately.

"Sorry", you got off the train, and your head snapped to look around at the unconventional urbanistic rundown architecture around.

"Japanese, huh?"

"About twelve per cent Japanese".

"People usually tell me, once I hit thirty, I started looking like a Chinese crook from a nineties movie", he confessed, with just not enough indifference.

"You would love to be one, huh?" you grinned. You could see it, too, now. Your thought adjusted. His high cheekbones and sharp, unforgiving slant of the eyes, and without makeup to smooth his face, he did look like he was capable of bad things. Yoongi nodded, quite content. He led you through the pedestrian tunnel into the wide sleepy street, with tall, dishevelled buildings, pieces of clothes hanging warily from the balconies, bright grey shining in the spring sun. In this weather, even the less attractive districts looked rather like locations from a video game, with its special greenpunk charm. Yoongi's short black hair moved lazily in the light wind; he cut his royal mane right after the wedding, elated like a puppy who caused mischied and knew about it. He did leave two wavy strands to frame his face though. Both you and his mother were glad.

You walked down the street looking at people living his life; someone adjusting a flower pot on their balcony, or thrashing a sheet furiously; some voices flew down from the top floors as the tall houses grew and grew on above your heads. Some kids left the building, hands in their jean pockets, caps, chains on their thighs. Yoongi checked the map on his phone:

"To the left at the end of the street".

He clocked them first; but you didn't even notice. The years living in safe Seoul all but killed your spacial awareness skills; and as far as you knew, Japan was even safer. Crime rates low on the ground, you always hopped like a butterfly on the Kyoto streets even when you were alone. So now, as you heard a whistle coming from one of the entrances, you attributed it to some internal conversation among a group of people.

"Oh, no way", Yoongi grumbled, and you finally paid attention. He was looking at the group of young people huddled together in between two broken up flower beds in front of the building. Your natural instinct finally kicked in: three men of moderate height but sick built. Wide shoulders, thick legs, they looked like people who were looking for trouble.

"It's not even evening", you mumbled, frustrated. Yoongi couldn't break the lock with them as he watched the group that gestured something towards you.

"Tourists?" you heard. One guy motioned his hand. The other two started babbling something in Japanese assuming Yoongi would understand them. One of the guys was looking at you the way drunk Itaewon men usually did. You pushed against his body but tried not to show your growing anxiety.

"Don't fuss", he advised, his fingers caressing the back of your palm reassuringly. Amidst the conversation the three peace breakers engaged in, you could make out something like 'pretty boy'. Sure your boy was pretty. But, as they set off from the flower beds and started cutting your way across the street, he also got angrier.

The thing about Yoongi was, he was like a battery that liked to snap. His large storage could contain a lot of annoyance, a lot of disrespect and exhaustion, but when the time and space was up, someone who tipped his peace at last would always get a handful. Yoongi used this internal fuel well in his work. Hooding his eyes, dangerous stare from behind the long locks falling onto his face, he would slouch his shoulders in a way that made him look much, much bigger than he really was. Perhaps he learnt this method from cats: the small, clawed and unpredictable carnivores that were unhinged enough to scare away bears. Yoongi was that kind of a person. You have never been scared when you were with him; it's the raging optimism of knowing that your fiancé, now husband, was ready to throw hands at anyone which could easily be read on his face. The years of neglect, condescending nods and underestimation helped him be spared of fear of bodily harm. You noticed this weird feature with every one of his six brothers, too. They were successful and beautiful, and still, they were desperate to prove themselves.

You tugged on his hand when Yoongi tensed towards the three people stopping you in your tracks. A short exchange in Japanese sounded hostile to you. You were half-through with your Korean, the language occupying all your attention, so you haven't thought of starting Japanese yet. Yoongi knew just enough of it to be able to tell people to fuck off.

The tallest, buff guy, undoubtedly, the leader of this pathetic, bored pack, stepped from side to side, and pointed his finger at you. Yoongi's left arm which was attached to you, pushed you slightly, and you read the cue to step back. The blank faces in front of you. Nothing behind the eyes, just sheer boredom of the Saturday afternoon. Someone yelled in Japanese from the above balcony, perhaps calling their nineteen-year old jobless son to leave tourists alone. He paid no attention. You felt your heart pumping blood in your chest. There's three of them after all, and this is not a dream anymore. You looked at their arms and shoulders; one, buff, the other kind of in the middle, and the third was totally thin, but still a fighting force. Yoongi said something, a bit louder, and you realized that your husband was crazy. His face was his asset, and it couldn't be broken. Instead of acting timid and saying you don't need trouble, he was stepping up and grilling them. You clutched his hand, poking him with your nails, but he didn't feel it at all.

The fallout was very quick. With that hand, he pushed you away, making you stumble a little, while with the other, he already aimed for the nose. From four steps away, you watched as his hair shone in the bright April sun; Yoongi ducked and punched the buff guy in the throat. The leader's friend stepped up to him from the side, grabbing his shoulder, and he kicked. Bam! It was over. One boy on the ground, the second, swaying in hesitation, the third decided to run. Yoongi turned around, his face relaxing as if he didn't just reenact his nineties movie dream, and grabbed your hand.

"We should get through another station", he panted, a little bit happy. You ran together, hand in hand, and by the end of the street, the fright was leaving your mouth in the form of breathless giggle.

2.

Jungkook just had too much energy. The boy never ran out of it. He could do a two and a half hour concert and then go clubbing because the performance didn't drain him; on the opposite, it energized him. Seeing all these people, bouncing with them, dancing in synch, being in the spotlight - he was a natural. Where Jimin fainted after every fourth show, and Yoongi became unnaturally grumpy after outpouring all his might into it, Jin, retreating into the hotel room to ron in bed, Jungook would beam brighter than the sun. During the training, he was the one who would do twice as much as needed, straining his body to the extreme maximum, only to outperform himself every time. His mind wandered in all directions and his body moved, like he was a shark. He had love for everyone. He loved his members to death, and yet he loved to babble away, sometimes not listening to himself and what he's saying. He loved the crowds, his fans, and people around, and yet basked in their reciprocated love so self-indulgingly sometimes that it seemed like he thought he was the only one in the world. Jungkook loved the love, and he loved women, and it was obvious he needed them, because they were beautiful, and he was handsome, and young, and always needed to release his energy somewhere, or he would burst like a blood bubble. He was the golden maknae, everybody's favorite, and more often than not, he got away with things that weren't allowed for the others.

During the tour, the standard procedure was thus: in the morning, everybody got up almost always hungover and with wrinkled faces, Jin, usually with insane bed hair, and slowly set off for the airport. There, on the apron, you would all wait, the members and the team, while the crew was loading the luggage onto the plane. You all usually preferred to wait outside because the air was fresher, and most of you were afraid of flying.

You'd normally be enveloped around Yoongi as the flights were undertaken at ungodly hours. Wrapped in a hoodie, in the tight circle of his arms (he would actually lean onto you like onto a huge pillow and try to sleep upright for a minute), in the wicked wind, you peeked out and saw Jungkook's girl doing the same as you. She'd look better, dolled up even at seven or six am, with nice hair. They'd murmur to each other or kiss quietly. Almost every other city the girl would be new. You stopped the efforts to memorize the names when you realized Jungkook wasn't serious about it. Of course, there's beauty in consensual, situational one-night stands; he'd pick up a pretty and lively girl at a bar after the show and pull her along for a couple of days, sometimes she'd even fly to another city with the band. That's how he recharged. He was an adult now, and you caught it in the way Namjoon and Jin looked at him. They still couldn't believe he had slipped through their fingers, all the while being proud of their MVP Jungkook. They always let him be, and the others did, too. You had fun hanging out with his girlfriends while on tour as you soon got too anxious attending every show every other night. While they performed in a new city, you'd stay in a hotel and play boardgames, drink, or even wander around the city with the girl. Most of them were actually amazing. Always very beautiful, funny, effortlessly perfect with their appearance, and easy going. Of course, there were no conversations about 'our boys'. Jungkook belonged to everyone, he belonged to no one. And most of the girls understood that.

Parasocial was dangerous. It's a good thing that you, like your batshit husband, could put up a fight.

One of the girls, Laura, or Lara, was more complicated to get along with. Simply speaking, she wasn't interested in anything apart from Jungkook, and wouldn't leave him alone. The middle of the tour, you already forgot where he picked her up, and how long ago. Was it France? No, that one was Marie, and she got off in Rome. Then that was the next one, but she didn't speak Italian. You remembered because you tried to get her to teach you the hand gestures. She frankly paid no attention to you at all which was an okay break. You've been a little under the weather all week, and was happy to spend a quiet day at a hotel while everybody worked their backs off.

You were trying to figure out what time it was after the sharp knock dragged you out of a nap. The movie was still on the TV which showed you hadn't slept much. Swaying a little bit, you hiccuped once and looked into the peephole. Laura. You were under the impression she went to see the tonight's show, but okay. You opened the door and noticed she looked a little worn out, her face puffy from crying. Something dawned on you unpleasantly: they probably had had a fight. And her time was almost up.

"Y/N", she whined, letting herself into your room. There was no contiunation, so you closed the door and tried to assess her condition.

"How are you?"

"I think I love him", she slurred. Drunk. Crying and drinking and not attending the show.

"Why aren't you at the arena? I thought you wanted to see the concert", you offered. Laura shook her head and then ran the fingers of her right hand through the lush curly hair. She sniffed. She was a full mess. You were considering filling her a bath.

"He just doesn't take it seriously. Tell me the truth, Y/N, you think it's not serious? I asked him about what after the tour, and", she was messing up her words, "he just smiled at me and changed the subject, you know how it is..." her mouth formed a painful O and her eyes pierced you. Suddenly, Laura was angry for no reason. Well, there was a reason. Jungkook fucked up and took in a girl who was in love with him. In love panicking, desperate.

"He told me not to think about the future", she whispered. You just stood there, unmoving, not sure what to say. "But the thing is, he is my future. I need him".

"I think..." you faltered, "you should really talk about it with him, and not let him off the hook until he lets you know..."

"I already know!" she yelled. In the silence between, a character yelled from the TV. There it was, the cue to leave. As her eyes grew in size, beautiful green, but a little mad right now, you realized she was breaking down. You wanted to give her a hug, but instead, Laura shook and raised her other hand that you hadn't seen previously. It was conveniently behind her back and you failed to pay attention. There was no chance you could expect her holding a razor.

"I said, he is my future", she pressed. You quickly went from compassionate to annoyed.

"Give me that", you ordered. You were older. And was already used to the convenient Korean tradition of younger people doing what they're told. But she was European, drunk, and didn't give a shit. Your outstretched hand with the palm open was almost closing on the sharp elongated blade. Where did she even get a dangerous razor. On a private jet, you can bring all kind of shit with you nowadays.

"Laura, give me the razor. You're not killing yourself over Jungkook", you felt comical saying that. Laura's eyes went completely round.

"I am Lauren", she hissed, totally offended. "You don't even know my fucking name".

She probably wanted to throw her hands up, like, nobody here thinks anything of me! kind of way. But, several glasses of Jungkook's fine whiskey from the mini bar affecting her, she must have fogotten she's holding a sharp razor in her hand. God know what she was intending to do with that; probably practice threatening suicide so that you could tell her if the peformance was convincing enough. Now the weapon of the naive was slashing your forearm which you put out instinctively in front of your face. Sharp pain downed the yelp inside of you as the rage kicked in. You straightened the arm which was yet to be engulfed in burning ache, and threw a fist towards her face. Lauren produced a gentle 'ah!' and stumbled back, but stayed on her feet. Hissing with the coming sensation, you knew that you had to disarm her before you collapse. Bright narrow stream of your blood was flying as you moved your arm. The hotel room spun due to adrenaline shaking you completely awake. You stepped to Lauren carefully, trying not to give her time to undestand what's happening, and grabbed her hand with the razor.

"Let go!" you yelled. You had to bash her palm onto the wall to make her sturdy fingers uncurl, and, as the weapon fell on the carpet with a thud, you slapped her across the face again. Then, took her by the neck, making her bow and walk. Lauren was bawling. You opened the door, already moaning with pain, and screamed into the corridor:

"Help, please!"

Jungkook's rabbit eyes were staring into the designated spot on the tip of Jin's shoe. He always had this astounded look when he was uncomfortable; a natural manipulative trick which made him look like an adorable owl baby, making you want to protect him. One gaze at this face, his jaws clenched, the rings in his lower lip giving him the doll shine, eyes transfixed, and you already forgave him. You weren't mad anymore, but you were, indeed, in pain. The razor cut the exact spot on your arm which you offered; the amount of skin and fat there covering the bone was laughable, so it cut until it got stuck on that. As the medics were wrapping up the arm, you could actually see your own bone which you didn't think you'd ever get to. The pain was phenomenal: going into the wrist, to the tips of fingers, and up, until the very neck, at first you worried that you were somehow mortally wounded. But no, it was just how it was: deep cut.

Yoongi was livid. Jungkook was terrified, and yet, his pride wouldn't let him budge in front of everyone. You all grouped into logical units. Yoongi stood with his back to the door, making it impossible for the youngest to escape. Behind him, Namjoon and Jin paced and nibbled on their fingers. You were propped against the wall on the side, head low as if you were the one who fucked up. Jimin, the pacifier, was at your side, his silent support making you not feel alone. While you just needed Suga to take off his stage clothes and comfort you, he was busy fuming at Jungkook, seemingly releasing the built-up annoyance with his affairs. Taehyung and Hoseok were judging silently on Jungkook's side; nobody wanted to join, scared that Yoongi will blow up and start screaming.

You could understand about 70% of what they were saying already. Yoongi was scolding Jungkook for being reckless, and interrogating him about the girl. Jungkook was replying that no, he had no idea she'd be so broken up about the casualty of the relationship. Yoongi was being sarcastic, calling Jungkook to admit it was stupid to begin with, to expect that a new girl every fourth night would cause no drama sooner or later. Then he dragged you into this, pointing his finger at you, saying something like,

"And now Y/N is hurt, someone who is actually supposed to stay".

You checked the wedding band on your finger. That was correct. Jimin sighed. He was anxious about the moment when the management barges into here, with penalties, insults and things to say. They all knew they had to sort this out quickly, and then reform and protect Jungkook together, no matter what each of them thinks.

Jin said something quietly, and Yoongi started speaking so quickly that finally you stopped understanding. His finger pointing accusingly at Jungkook who seemed to grow, hurt by the resentment his ever protecting hyung was now directing. He chewed on his rings, eyes targeting Yoongi, his brow lowering. Soon, it was an exchange. Don't you think you are being a little too dramatic about this? Is there anything deeper that you want to tell me?

Yes, I wanna tell you that your fuckery now led to my wife being slashed to the bone by your psychotic one night stand, you're behaving like a baby, you're losing your caution and act with no regard for people around you, and so on, and on, like an old man scolding a youngster at a fish market for shoplifting. You were breathing heavily because it was hard; you craved a painkiller of some sort, and only Jimin noticed. But he was quiet, frightened of getting in the middle of it. Taehyung rolled his eyes and covered his face with his hands. Hoseok seemed struck on the head, his eyes resting on the carpet. Everybody was hesitant to look at you, as if you could shout at them, as if it was their collective fault. The blood on the carpet was washed out by the time they returned after the show, and even the medics left; Lauren was locked up in Jungkook's room with the hotel staff, and this overdue outburst was tiring.

But of course there was something warm about Yoongi not being able to shut up about this. He's never seen you wounded like this and was probably in shock. Thought of what could've happened if you failed to outpower her. Pictured coming to the hotel to find your body with throat slashed. All due to this unhappy coincidence, because of Jungkook's carelessness. He was wiser and more paranoid naturally, he knew how small things led to big tragedies. He was the one stopping at the intersection for a fraction of a second only to then be chewed by the wheels of a car. He was scared.

What if she stayed in the room and waited for you? With the razor? What if she killed you while you slept? What if she killed herself in your room?

Namjoon winced painfully, trying to stop him from spinning this further and further. He tried to intervene by saying:

"It's generally not a good idea to date so many girls all the time".

You noted how rough he formulated this, trying not to sound too judgemental, but to express the firm desire to ban groupies.

"Not my fault Yoongi managed to only pull one", Jungkook spat, still looking like he was about to faint, like he was surrounded by wolves, and not by friends. Your brows flew up, as Jimin facepalmed, while Yoongi would've jumped him across the room. Would have, but the older ones caught him by the shoulders, visibly having been prepared for something like that.

"Aahh", Hobi added, sounding like he was being tortured.

The room was jumping in your vision field as pain quickly drained you of energy. You managed to see Taehyung push Jungkook in the shoulder, distraught.

"Don't listen to him", Jimin mumbled, "sometimes he says things just to say something".

"I am also married, so what are you gonna say to me?" Taehyung demanded. You loudly moaned with pain in order to pull the teeth from this fight. It worked. Yoongi deflated immediately, his eyes snapping to you, and before you knew it, you were in his arms. His breathing was in his chest, still agitated, and he led you out of the quietened room. You managed to steal one last look at Jungkook who looked like the sweet baby he was; you couldn't fight the maternal instinct this twenty-nine year old guy awoke in you. He was seemingly about to cry.

"It's been three hours, right?" Yoongi was preoccupied. His lips were pressed together firmly even when he was speaking. His face was very pale, and you, dizzy with pain, almost drunk-like, touched it to see if he still had makeup on. This gesture, taken by Yoongi as a distress sign, made him look at you intently. And you knew you loved his eyes and everything about him; when he was fussy and angry like this, as well. Simply because he was never angry with you. It was abnormal; he tended to always put you on a special place and act like a rabid dog if someone crossed you, even if it was in his imagination. You could never make him angry, and you tried. But he was too collected for that, only allowing himself to crumble on the moments like this. He had a good outlet for emotions in the shape of music. That was his sewage drain.

"You okay? We need to change the band, right? The doctors told me to change this every three hours".

You winced, expecting immense pain again. The wound just barely seized torturing you just now, when you held your forearm bent, and you had to bother it again.

"Why don't you take a painkiller?" he murmured. You nodded, unable to speak. He left the bathroom for less than a minute and returned with a pill and a glass of water. While you drank, he studied your face.

"Okay?" for the eighth time in ten minutes. You nodded yes and put your head on his shoulder to feel his warmth and feel his breathing. He was probably very tired, he is always sleepy after the shows. The tips of his hair tickled your face, and it smelt wonderful. Like hairspray and perfume. You realized you weren't really shaken by the altercation. It ended relatively well, you weren't scared. Rather,

"I am a bit heartbroken for her".

Yoongi chuckled ironically.

"I would've probably broken her fucking arm if I was there", he replied grumpily. "I know I would've regretted it, but still".

"I mean, I understand a little", you continued, as if not hearing him, "she is very in love with Jungkook and I wish he hadn't hurt her like that".

"You are too kind to some people".

Perhaps by 'some people' he also meant his youngest, for tonight.

He said nothing else and got to the procedure, whispering to you when you whimpered with pain. Yoongi hissed when he looked a the open wound; stitching it was impossible as skin was so tightly wrapped around this spot that it simply tore and pulled away after the cut. He had to wrap it up tightly, to make skin connect again, which meant he had to make you scream. Painkiller wouldn't help here. You rested on his chest after, panting and greatful, as his hands held your head. His big palm on the back of your head, and the violent beast of pain, still playing your bones like a guitar, had to retreat a little. The relief of being with him every day was powerful.

Someone knocked on the door. You smiled madly at the thought of round two, now, with an axe. Yoongi sighed and looked at you, asking silently if he should get the door.

"You aren't going to faint, are you?" he asked, bewildered.

"No, it just hurts".

He pressed a kiss on your forehead and went, dragging his feet, one hand in his long hair. It was too late by the time you realized that, if it's Jungkook, he might get punched as soon as the door opens. You pushed yourself off the bathtub edge and walked behind him to see. He stood, his head in the slit between the door and the frame, low voice saying something.

Then, a dispassionate, evaluating look at you, the look of a bodyguard. Do you wanna see him? Sometimes you could read his mind. Then Yoongi finally gave in and moved slowly away from the door and stood by the bed, observing. Jungkook appeared, the old version, sincere regret in his eyes, angel face concerned. Even his frame looked younger again.

"Y/N, I am so sorry", he started immediately, "I never meant for you to get hurt, I never thought it would happen. If I had known she'd do anything like that, I... I never, never wanted you to be hurt..."

He was apologizing feverishly, like a child, like he thought he only had thirty seconds before the door shuts on him, and it made your eyes water. You blinked the unwanted tears of tenderness. Yoongi was darker than night, his hands crossed on his chest. He wouldn't let it go that easily, and it scared you. It was Jungkook, his boy. The boy he protected all these years, that he watched grow, that he taught to cook. The boy he comforted when he got homesick and missed his mum, when he fell sick on tour and wasn't allowed even one day off, so he had to train with fever, and faint; the boy who Yoongi used to rage for like he raged tonight. Something changed. Yoongi was prone to tough love. The child wasn't a child anymore, and they all had to get used to it.

"It's okay", you whispered, moving quickly to Jungkook, and wrapping your good arm around his bent neck.

"It's alright, it's not your fault", you said quietly so that Yoongi wouldn't hear, but he did.

"It is", your husband barked from behind you. Jingkook sighed with an animalistic tremble, like a dog shaking off water. You knew he was looking at his hyung.

"I'm sorry", he repeated, and you tried to console him by stroking his head. The soft uncombed hair tickled your palm,

"I know you are also shaken".

"I am mortified. Are you in a lot of pain? How bad is it, really? Will you be okay?"

"Of course. It's just a big cut".

"I could see her bone", Yoongi intervened again, and you had to turn around to give him a look. He didn't budge.

"I'm sorry", Jungkook buried his face in your shoulder, "I didn't mean any of it", he said, his voice muffled.

A little more patting on the back and convincing him he was okay, and you were okay, and everything was okay, and he retreated, completely devastated. As soon as the door closed behind him, you turned to Yoongi again.

"I hate to see him sad".

He wanted to say something, but just rolled his eyes instead.

The cut left an elongated half-moon scar and became a reminder of three things:

you can throw a punch;

always protect your face;

Yoongi loved you the same way he loved his skin and bone.

[marauder-misprint]

HIIII! I've read a bunch of your stuff and just saw that your requests are open- could you please do a Sirius x reader where reader is Remus' twin sister and remus is way too protective- even though she can defend herself, she's a werewolf too!

Hi! Thank you for the request ❤︎ I really hope you enjoy this fic. I took it as Remus being protective against prospective boyfriends. If you want see something with like dueling or pranks or something, message me ❤︎

Lupin's threats

Sirius Black x Lupin!reader

3k words

cw: angst, fluff

You never really minded that you and Remus shared friends. Being twins, werewolves, Gryffindors and bookish, you had a lot in common so it made sense that you enjoyed the same people and the same people enjoyed you. But that didn’t mean that there weren’t times when you wished you could have some things, or people, all to yourself. 

Sirius Black. He was one of those people. Remus befriended him first, they were roommates afterall. But then he introduced the two of you. You clicked. Of all Remus’ friends, you were closest with Sirius and that only grew over the years that you spent with them.

And you were there for it all. When the boys discovered Remus’ furry little secret, which was also your secret. When they became the Marauders, which included you. You were given the nickname of Star. Moony and Star, the werewolves. You were there for the creation of the map. You were there when James, Peter and Sirius managed to become animagi. You were a part of the group.

So it wasn’t odd or peculiar for you to be in their dorm. It was practically a second dorm for you. But, you always knocked before entering because they were boys and some things you didn’t need to see. 

You were going to study with them in their dorm. You started climbing the stairs when you heard their voices. They were loud and when they didn’t close the door, their voices carried. You couldn’t quite make out what they were saying so you kept moving. Then there was laughter.

“What, Moony? I can’t help it if your sister’s fit,” you heard Sirius say.

That stopped you in your spot, immediately turning your face red. Sirius thought you were fit? Remus didn’t have any other sisters… You certainly didn’t mind him saying that, if anything you loved it. One of your best friends, the one you developed a crush on sometime during third year, thought you were attractive. Part of you wanted to run up the rest of the stairs and into the dorm to hug him.

The continued laughter from the boys brought you out of your thoughts. You just smiled to yourself and turned around. You would study in your own dorm and let them have some boy time. 

To say that you were disappointed that Sirius never asked you out or even flirted with you over the next year would be an understatement. You tried to catch his eye. You tried flirting with him a little, not trying to push the limit. Nothing. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t catch the eyes of other boys though. You were flirted with. You were danced with at parties. You were even asked out, but every single one stood you up. It seemed like boys liked the idea of you but before it could ever bloom into a relationship, they disappeared. It certainly messed with your confidence. 

So you plunged yourself into your studies. It was a decent enough distraction. You can’t be upset and distracted by boys when you needed to memorize 30 different poisons, each’s symptoms and their antidotes. There’s no space in your mind when you have to create spell combinations for practice duels. You fought to be at the top of every class because if you didn’t, you doubted yourself in every single aspect of your life. 

In the quiet though, the doubts returned. They echoed in your mind as you pruned some plants in Greenhouse #3 for extra credit in Herbology. Not that you needed it. The insecurities frustrated you. Why had no one been able to show up to a measly date? You thought you were pretty enough, had a decent enough personality, an honest reputation. What was wrong with you? You started to take a little bit of your frustration out on the thorns and leaves you were removing. 

Snip. Snip. Snip. 

Then you smelled him before you heard or saw him. Cigarette smoke wafted through the greenhouse. 

“Don’t smoke around the plants,” you said automatically, turning your head to see Barty leaning over a plant and blowing smoke directly on it. 

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. They like it,” he said, pausing to show you how the particular plant he was in front of seemed to lean into the smoke. “See!”

You rolled your eyes. “Or maybe you’ve gotten it addicted to nicotine…”

“But it’s not dead.”

“Yet.”

“Ah, don’t be no fun, Lupin,” he said, approaching you and pushing himself up to sit on the table next to the plant you were working on. “Whatcha doin’ in here anyways?” 

You watched him warily out of the corner of your eye as you continued to work. You didn’t know too much about him as he was a year younger than you. You knew he could be a wild card and his father was the head of a department at the ministry, but that’s about where your knowledge of him ended.

“Pruning.” 

Snip. Snip. Snip.

“Well duh. But why?” 

Snip. Snip. Snip.

“Extra credit. What’s it to ya?” 

He hummed as if considering your answer. 

“Do you want company? I’m sure I’m more entertaining than the lousy plants.”

“Why would you want to keep my company?” 

“Because I’m curious.”

You stopped mid-snip. 

“Curious?”

“Mhmm. That’s what I said.”

“Enlighten me, Crouch. Curious about what?”

“Curious about how a pretty girl like you got all those scars? I’ve been intrigued for a while now.”

You scoffed as you resumed your task. He was interested in the scars you got by being a werewolf. Classic. But he did call you pretty. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you…”

“Try me,” he teased, leaning forward. 

For a split second, an embarrassing second, you debated telling him the truth just to see what his reaction would be. But he was a boy you barely knew. He wasn’t one of Remus’ friends. There was no guarantee that he wouldn’t run away and tell everyone, resulting in you and Remus getting kicked out of Hogwarts. 

“Fought dragons when I was little.”

“Then why aren’t you burned?” 

“Who says I’m not?” 

Snip.

The conversation died there and Barty watched you work for a little bit. It didn’t take too long for him to grow bored and leave. You were surprised that he stayed for so long, although your mind repeated him calling you ‘a pretty girl’ until you were finished.

“Guess who got called pretty,” you sighed as you collapsed onto the couch next to Mary in the common room. 

The Marauders might be your best friends but that didn’t mean you disliked your roommates. Quite the opposite, really. You were a Gryffindor’s girl through and through.

“Plants talking to you now?” Lily laughed from the armchair next to you. 

“Ha. No, actually, I had a visitor in the greenhouses today.”

“Who?” Mary asked, turning her full attention to you.

“Crouch. No one special, but still - a compliment’s a compliment.”

You proceeded to recount Barty’s visit to the girls. You were blissfully unaware of the Marauders’ eavesdropping on your story. 

---

A few days passed before you crossed paths with Barty again. You tried waving at him. Maybe you could entertain his attention if he still wanted to give it to you. 

He definitely saw you wave. His expression dropped to something cold before he looked away, muttering something to the boys around him. It felt like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on you. Literally said he’d been intrigued by you for a while and now he wouldn’t wave back? Yet another blow to your confidence. You tried to tell yourself it was for the better, that there would be someone outside of Slytherin who could give you the attention that you desired. 

Your last period of the day was a free period so you retreated to the comfort of the common room. To your relief, Sirius was there, lounging on the couch with a cigarette hanging loosely in his hand. 

You sat on the couch and draped your legs over his, a comfortable habit you picked up ages ago that he never complained about. 

“Padfoot, why are boys so confusing?”

“Not sure what you mean, Star,” he replied lazily.

“Like I swear a guy will be flirting with me one day and the next time I see him, he acts like I got the damn plague!” you exclaimed, throwing your head back into a throw pillow. “What turns a guy off so quickly?” 

Sirius snorted and you immediately sat up and looked at him firmly.

“You know something.”

“About what turns a guy off? Yeah. I would know about that.”

“Padfoot! What am I doing wrong?” 

“Love, you’re doing nothing wrong,” he tried to assure you, gently patting your leg.

“That’s rubbish and you know it.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Please,” you laughed disbelievingly. “You called me fit forever ago and look at us. You’ve never flirted with me. You’ve never hinted at wanting to kiss me. So, there must be something wrong with me.” 

Sirius stared at you for a second before sputtering, “H-how do you know… I never told you… What?” 

You lowered your chin to give Sirius an unamused look, waiting for him to compose himself. His look of shock remained. 

“Last year?” you offered when he didn’t say anything more. “Unless Moony has another sister?”

“You, uh, so you heard that.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you hear what Moony said in response by chance?”

“No?” You furrowed your brows. “I figured it was better to give you some guy time if you were talking about girls.” 

Sirius exhaled out of his nose in seeming appreciation. “Well, thanks for that, but you should’ve hung around for his response. Something about… you know…” He gestured to his crotch. “Cutting my dick off if I ever acted on or repeated that.”

“Remus said that?” you gasped, leaning forward.

He nodded. You swung your legs off his lap and jumped up from the couch. You started to pace as you were filled with rage. You ran a hand through your hair.

“Fucking hell…” you muttered. You started to walk toward the portrait hole but then you turned back. “Please tell me he had nothing to do with every bloke who’s flirted with me.”

Sirius grimaced.

“Every one?” you whispered.

“Every one he knows about or assumes. He, erm, makes sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You frowned and sighed angrily. 

“He was what, Charms right now?” you asked.

Sirius nodded. 

“Thanks, Pads. And if you ever decide you want to risk your manhood, I think you’re pretty fit too. Always have.”

Then you stormed out of the common room. You kept a determined pace until you reached Professor Flitwick’s classroom. Out of respect for the professor, you waited outside the classroom, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed and fingers rhythmically tapping on your arm. Anger was radiating off of you. You knew it was. The few students who passed you gave you one look before hurrying on their way with semi-scared expressions. It was even more so confirmed when Flitwick dismissed his class and every student who passed you seemed glad that you weren’t waiting for them. 

“Hey Star,” Remus said when he exited the room. 

He didn’t seem to have the same fear that everyone else had. He didn’t care that you were seething as you waited for him. You grabbed his arm and pulled him down the corridor to an alcove.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked bitterly.

“The same thing that’s wrong with you,” he said coolly. “You know, our furry little problems?” 

He smirked and that annoyed you. You slapped him. The crack of your hand hitting his face echoed around you. A curious passerby looked into the alcove.

“Keep moving,” you snapped at them before turning back to your brother. 

“The fuck was that for?” he gasped, holding his cheek.

“Have you been threatening every boy who’s looked my way?” you asked firmly.

The color drained from his face. “Oh.”

You laughed coldly. “Oh is right, you fucker. I ought to hex you into your next lifetime.”

Remus, ever a sloucher, straightened his back to stand at his full height, which was more than a full head taller than you. 

“I’m just protecting you. Boys are bastards who are going to break your heart. God forbid I make sure no one hurts my sister.”

“The only bastard around is you,” you spat. “I don’t need your protection. I’m fully capable of handling myself, thank you very much.”

You turned to leave. Remus reached out to grab your shoulder but you just jerked it forward so he had to let go.

“Star,” he called as you walked away from him.

You held up your middle finger. You assumed that he got your message when he didn’t call out again. You don’t think he realized how badly his actions messed you up mentally, but you were also upset that no one thought you were worth the risk of Remus’ wrath. Could he really be that frightening? You didn’t think so, but you were also his sister. 

From that moment, it became well known that you were beyond pissed at Remus. The reason behind your fury got lost in the gossip. All that anyone knew is that you were avoiding the Marauders as a whole and if anyone brought them up to you, you made it their problem. You also turned your flirting up to level ten. Anyone you considered passably cute, you charmed and if it seemed like it might go somewhere, you told them to ignore Remus at all costs. 

That, however, set off alarm bells in some of their heads and you were back to being dateless. You were reduced to sulking in the bell tower, somewhere few students went. It was actually a great place to be alone. You let your legs dangle off of one of the platforms, leaning against the wooden rail. You knew that the Astronomy Tower was where students usually went to sit like this, but you did want to be alone so you picked the less popular spot.

“You sure know where to hide, Star,” Sirius’ voice sounded from behind you.

You didn’t move. You didn’t respond. You didn’t look at him when he sat down next to you, letting his legs dangle as well. You didn’t have to wonder how he found you; you knew the answer: the map. Although a small part of you was curious how long he looked for you before turning to the map. You sat in silence for a while. Sirius swung his legs.

“So what do you want?” you asked with a sigh. 

“You said if I wanted to risk my manhood…”

That made you look at him. 

“I did.”

“I want to risk it.”

“Interesting.”

“Does… does the offer still stand? Or… should I go?”

“Oh, it stands. I guess I’m curious why now though.” 

“As compared to when?”

“Oh, I don’t know, a year ago?” you asked snarkily. 

“I figured it was just me that Moony would threaten. You know, he’s one of my best mates and siblings are usually off limits. I thought you would find someone else and I’d get over you. Except neither of those happened.” 

You let out a sad sounding laugh. 

“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on your thigh. “I really thought he was just waiting for someone he thought was good enough for you. Frankly, some of those blokes are complete gits and you dodged a bullet.”

“That’s not the point though, Padfoot. I thought I was undesirable. I thought I was the problem. How am I supposed to figure out who actually likes me and who’s worth my time if Remus scares everyone away?”

“He didn’t want to see you getting hurt.”

“But I need to get hurt. That’s how we grow. It’s not like I can’t handle pain. He should know that by now.”

“Yeah, he should. And I should’ve known that you’d be worth the risk. I should’ve flirted back.” He paused for a moment, smiling to himself. “Do you remember the first time you flirted with me?” 

You cocked your head to the side, trying to think back.

“Not really.”

He cleared his throat before speaking in a falsetto, “Padfoot, have you ever considered joining the quidditch team? You got really nice arms, you’d make a good beater.” 

You started giggling as the memory came back to you. Sirius joined in on your laughter. 

“I remember now! James burst out laughing. He said you’d never compete with their Prewett and Prewett combination.” 

“I mean, he has a point,” Sirius said, gently bumping into your shoulder. 

“Okay but listen. I was complimenting your arms, which are nice. Not my fault you can’t swing a bat.”

“It isn’t your fault. That would be Walburga’s sorry genetics.” 

“Not all of her genetics are bad.” You reached over to grab his chin, turning his face left and right. “You got that nice hair, good cheekbones, pretty eyes. Kissable lips.”

His eyes flicked down to your lips briefly with your hand still holding his face. 

“Kissable lips, you say,” Sirius repeated with a smirk. “Care to prove that?” 

You smiled and pulled his face closer to yours. You looked in his eyes for a brief second before pressing your lips against his. It was a quick and gentle moment, but it changed everything. You finally had your first kiss and it was with none other than the Sirius Black, the only boy you’ve ever had a real crush on. 

Sirius hummed when you pulled away. “Definitely not a problem with you. I could do that again.”

“Yeah?” you laughed with a sparkle in your eye. “Care to do it often? And in front of Remus?” 

“Only if you promise to protect my manhood. I actually am quite fond of it.”

“I can do that,” you murmur before pulling Sirius’ face back towards yours so you could kiss him again. 

[sorchathered]

My Forever Valentine- Bradley Bradshaw x reader

A/N- happy belated valentines my angels! This is just a little something I’ve been working on for @roosterforme, hope you all love it!

Pairing- Bradley Bradshaw x female reader

Warnings- a little angst, a little smut, language.

“Honestly I never thought we’d get here. No really, anyone who knows Bradley knows he isn’t the Casanova he likes to think he is. How you roped her into marrying your dumb ass is a miracle in my book. I love you both and I’m so glad you are taking over my job of keeping him alive; good luck girl it’s a tough gig!”

Everyone is nearly in tears from laughter as Bradley rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a chuckle. Choosing Natasha Trace to be his best (wo)man was a no-brainer until he realized she was going to get to give a speech, or as she called it “her roasting of the chicken boy”. Honestly he thought she’d be more ruthless but blessedly she had been kind because it was after all his wedding day. She wasn’t wrong though; it really was a miracle he’d managed to not only find you but also convince you he was the man you should spend the rest of your life with. He’d been full of anger for years over Mav pulling his papers, despite the fact that he’d made it in the navy and been incredibly successful in his career. You’d seen right through his carefree aloha persona, broke down his walls and finally got him to self reflect and realize that the past wasn’t who he was; he’d made it through hell despite the roadblocks and that was what he should focus on instead. He had been stubborn, trying his damndest to push you away when you pushed him to make amends and heal, but you’d stayed. You’d made him better, made his life have meaning, and now he would spend the rest of his life showing you how much you meant to him and making a beautiful life for you.

He remembered the day he met you vividly. You’d been out at the hard deck with a group of friends, it shouldn’t have been any different than any other night out but when he heard your laugh and saw your face he knew. It was like everything in his life had come into focus and he couldn’t stop himself from getting up mid conversation to cross the bar and talk to you. You’d been watching him too, the easy carefree way he seemed to move through the crowd was mesmerizing and the two of you had hit it off like a house on fire. You both fell in love hard and fast, but it hadn’t been without its struggles. Bradley’s line of work was extremely taxing, gone for weeks- sometimes months a time with little to no contact. You’d been lonely but he’d been worth every minute apart, and when he made it back to you after a particularly difficult mission a misunderstanding had nearly torn you both apart.

-6 months ago-

It had been a non-stop carousel of tag chasers from the minute he’d entered his beloved bar, the squad had demanded they throw him a welcome home party for the ages but you’d never thought it would be a wall to wall frat party. Women staring for a little too long, buying him drinks, at one point some girl actually tried to kiss him! Bradley had been polite as always, sending all of them packing and letting them know he was taken, but by the time he’d sat himself at the piano to sing he had gathered himself quite a fan club of single girls, and you didn’t have the patience to look at it anymore. Especially when one of those girls was his ex, she just never quite seemed to understand the word no, and forget about the notion that he had moved on; she didn’t believe for one second that anyone would turn his head from her and despite being the one that left him she just wouldn’t let an opportunity pass to get him back out of her grasp. You knew his heart, and that he had professed that you were his future, but it wasn’t enough. Not when these girls didn’t seem to get his polite hints and kept coming back for more. You knew he liked the attention and that was the worst part; he could tell you all day long that he wanted a family with you but when you took a backseat to his fan club you couldn’t help but convince yourself that he was all talk and nothing more.

“Baby, come on you know it’s not like that! I don’t want anyone but you! Just come back inside, we’ll play some pool with Phoenix and Coyote and then we can head home, just us. I don’t want you going home by yourself.” He pouted and tried to pull you close and damn it you almost let him, but the gnawing feeling of inadequacy wouldn’t let you give in.

You nearly walked away that night, but he wouldn’t have it. If he was going to lose you it wouldn’t be over some stupid girl in a bar, the two of you were meant to be and he was ready to put his heart on the line. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms, you wiggled in his hold but he didn’t budge; tilting your chin up to look at him as he leaned in close to place a searing kiss to your lips. He felt your body go lax in his arms, sighing into his mouth as he ran his tongue along the seam of your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a while, locked in an embrace as he kissed you breathless, you were sure this was the kind of kiss that caused women to swoon in old movies, drunk on the feeling of his body pressed to yours making you weak in the knees. When he finally pulled away from you a whine breached your throat and he chuckled as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I want you to hear me when I say this sweetheart, and really take it to heart ok? There’s nothing I want more in this world than you. Not flying, not another woman, not a single thing could matter more to me than you. You’re my first thought when I open my eyes and every night I’m honored to be the one to hold you when you finally find rest. I will always choose you, and if I’ve ever made you question that I will do anything to make it right. I want you forever. I want to have a house full of feral children that look like you that I coach softball for on the weekends, I want to take care of you when you’re sick and think you’re gross, I want to sit on our porch 50 years from now and watch the sun go down on a perfect life we’ve made, hell baby I want to pass first because I don’t know that I could go on another day if you weren’t here. That’s how much you mean to me, and if you’ll say yes I’ll love you until the day I die.”

You were fully ugly crying in his arms as he pulled a beautiful ring and slid it on your finger, nodding furiously before you pulled his face to yours.

Now in the fading sunset he watched you dancing along to the band, the quiet beach wedding had been everything you both dreamed it would be, surrounded by loved ones and Bradley can’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all. You were everything he’d ever dreamed up but somehow better, the figment in his mind could never come close to the real thing. His hands itched to hold you, need flooding his senses as he crossed the makeshift dance floor to sweep you into his embrace. You grinned up at him and he melted a little more inside, he peppered your face with kisses as your laughter rang out against the crashing of the waves. “I need to monopolize the bride for a little while, think you could find a way for us to escape for a bit?” He whispered in your ear and you couldn’t help but laugh until you felt him pressing against the satiny fabric of your gown. He swallowed the moan that escapes your lips, it was entirely indecent the way you two were pressed together in this public of a setting but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You were his wife, his wife. Surely he could be excused for his behavior just this once right? He turned you in his arms and began guiding you towards the beloved bar where the two of you first met. Penny was bringing out more champagne as you burst in the door, a chuckle and shake of her head as the two of you nearly collided with her. “No breaking anything in my bar, I’ll keep everyone out of your hair for a few minutes.” Bradley nodded with wide eyes as you erupted in laughter, ushering you towards the stock room with a playful slap to your ass as you tried to catch your breath between giggle fits.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He said as he placed you on top of the massive deep freeze in the corner of the stock room, mascara was smudging the corners of your eyes from the tears brought on by your glee at getting caught, eyes shining with anticipation at what was to come. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep it in his pants until we made it to the honeymoon suite Mr. Bradshaw” he didn’t deny it, he just couldn’t help himself with how beautiful you looked, it would be a crime to wait 2 more hours before he could fuck his wife.

“You know, you’re my wife now. Mrs. Bradshaw.” He was running his lips and mustache along your cleavage, the sensation sent a shiver up your spine, along with his declaration. “Oh god- we really are married now aren’t we?” You panted as he hiked your dress up above your thighs, running a long finger up the seam of your barely there underwear, reveling in the look on your face as you sucked in a sharp gasp. He couldn’t help but kiss you, licking into your mouth as he continued to rub circles against your covered clit. You were trembling in his hold, whining and bucking into his hand and he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Tease. Two could play that game. Sliding your palms down his shirt jacket you made quick work of unbuttoning his dress pants, slipping your hand down into his briefs to grasp his cock. He hissed into the open air, knowing you had the upper hand now.

“Thought you said you needed to fuck me Bradley? We don’t have all night, give it to me baby boy.” He couldn’t push his clothes off fast enough, sliding your underwear to the side as he slammed into you mercilessly. Sweet saccharine moans fell from your lips and he brought you to your high, your nails clawing at his back as he sucked a dark mark behind your ear. It didn’t take much more for you both to topple over the edge, a mess of sweaty limbs tangled together as you reached euphoria. Giggles and soft kisses followed as you tried to piece each others outfits back together, startling at a loud knock rapping the old wooden door.

“Ok sluts, you can make a baby another time! Everyone is looking for the happy couple and we know what y’all are getting up to! Wrap it up and come join the party!” Natasha cackles as she hears you two shuffling behind the door, hastily stepping out with tousled hair and kiss swollen lips. “Can you blame me Phoenix? She’s perfection.” Bradley says with a laugh as you all step back out into the party, a roar of cheers and whoops echoing out as you do. This was just the beginning of a lifetime of memories, and Bradley couldn’t wait to spend them all with you.

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @sunsetsimpsblog @seitmai @ryebecca @mynameismckenziemae @heavenssins @tenderclio @sio-ina-bottle @shanimallina87 @jessicab1991 @trickphotography2 @sometimesanalice @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @saltsicklover @kissmecaitie @callsigns-haze

[https-lovvers]

hamzah visiting thoughtful sweetheart readers hometown

the summer came around, and as martin and mandy head off to europe, you and your family often went back down to puerto rico, where you had lived for some of your life.

your extended-family still live on a farm that you pretty much grew up on, and you were super excited!

you were excited to ask hamzah if he wanted to come with your family and go meet your grandparents

"hamzah, mama said that you can come down to boricua, did you wanna come and we can pick you up from the airport?" you asked slightly nervously

hamzah was overjoyed and immediately tackled you into a hug, "boi are you kidding, i'd love to come baby oh my god" you giggled slightly.

"i can't wait to meet the rest of your family and all the animals you keep talking about"

you smiled and gave him a kiss. "i'm excited too"

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

you had spent the last few days with your brothers in puerto rico and you were sick of them. you hadn't lived with them all in so long and it was driving you insane. but you looked on the brightside.

hamzah was arriving today!

he had a big flight from turkey and he face-timed you beforehand to let you know he was on his way.

as much as you were excited, nobody was more excited than your grandmother. she had been fussing all day, preparing a big meal, excessively cleaning and nagging you about whether you wanted kids yet or not.

you just giggled at her with your mama as you sat on the couch, keeping your eye on the time.

"are you nervous?" your mama asked.

you smiled, "poor hamzah is probably shaken out of his bones, i'm not nervous mama"

she played with a strand of your hair, "i know he's worried, but i can tell you're nervous too. you have nothing to worry about mi vida. your grandparents will see how much he means to you, and they will like him no matter what."

you smile softly, "thanks mama"

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

"hamzah is landing in an hour, can you drive me lo?" you ask your brother lorenzo.

"mmf lets go"

you skip into the car, excited to see your boyfriend again.

your heart drops when you see him. you've been dating him for ages, but no matter how long you'll ever be with him, the swelling of your heart when you see him never stops.

you don't care how cringe it is, you sprint towards him and jump into his arms, and he lets out a little laugh, but you feel him melt into it.

he sets you down, and smiles down at you. "missed you"

you give him a peck and interlock hands, leading him towards your brother's car. "missed you too"

"that was so cringe" your brother says when you get it the car

"you just mad your girlfriend aint here bro" hamzah jokes back

you were happy that your brothers and hamzah got along well, and your brothers sort of adopted him as one of them, making fun of him and joking with him.

when you pull into the driveway of the farm you squeeze hamzah's hand. "you ready?"

he gives you a short nod, and as soon as he steps out of the car he is rushed by your grandmother. she takes one look and says, "oo you've got yourself a looker" and she wraps her hand around his arm, "and he's a strong boy too"

you and hamzah both smile shyly.

"abuela leave him alone."

"nono my dear, come inside i have prepared him some dinner" and she turns to your mama, whispering loud enough for hamzah to hear, "i like him already"

your mama shakes her head with a smile and gives hamzah a hug, "good to see you again hamzah, did you have a good flight?"

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

hamzah takes a seat at the table and he admires all the photos of all family members. he spots a photo of toddler-you sleeping in the barn with the goats and he laughs. "so you grew up sleepy"

"she fell alseep at dinner once, and her face fell into her food" your grandfather says laughing, and the entire household is shaking with, "oh my god i remember that!" and laughter.

you bury your head into hamzahs chest out of mock embarrassment and he giggles.

the rest of the night is filled with embarrassing stories and board games and good food.

"hamzah and are gonna go to bed now" you could tell hamzah was getting tired, and it was no wonder why, jetlag + a long flight.

a chorus of good nights were chanted back as hamzah intertwined his hand with yours.

"thank you for the wonderful meal, and thank you for having me."

"our pleasure"

you guide hamzah up to your bedroom, where the walls were painted pink and your bedsheets were still rainbow. hamzah flops down on your bed and smiles.

"i think they like you" you say as you sit next to him.

"of course they like me" he jokes. you let out a giggle.

after your nightly routine, you and hamzah get under the covers, and face each other. intimately staring at each other, awfully close. "i really love you"

"yeah i love you too or whatever" he jokes "i'm just here for the animals"

"ok goodnight hamzah"

"ok but seriously when can i see all the animals"

you turn away from him, but feel an arm slide around your waist and tickle your sides. you squeal with laughter and try to fight him off. he finally stops after you had nearly knocked the lamp off the nightstand.

you're both out of breath as you close your eyes, curling up to his side. and he whispers, "i really love you too"

ok guys this is really self indulgent and kinda bad but lmk if you want a pt2 (like hamzah visiting the animals and trying to ride a horse or other such things)

ok love you guys!!!

[jeongin-lvr]

cw. handjob, cum eating, subby jake, praise kink & fluffy relationship shit.

cuddling with your boyfriend Jake, his hand around your waist as he lays behind you, head nuzzled into your neck. you’re both so comfortable, watching whatever movie the two of you have playing on the TV. neither of you have spoken for quite some time and it’s comfortable that way. your hands are placed over Jake’s where they lay on your stomach, hugging him back as your legs intertwined with each others. the couch feels 100 times more comfortable than usual with Jake by your side. the moment is soft and gooey like a warm brownie… until you felt something hard poking at your lower back.

you immediately knew what it was but for some reason you looked anyway. you turned slightly, alerting Jake out of his soft and calm state, peeking at whatever you were looking at. Jake hadn’t even noticed he’d gotten hard, immediately flushing with embarrassment, redder than a cherry. his head spun and he attempted to do damage control by sitting up slightly and shuffling back, though there wasn’t much space to go. you were still ultimately in his arms, and he was still hard as a rock with a red nose and cheeks.

“fuck, I’m sorry, I did not mean—“ Jake is met with your fleeting touches over his body, swiping over his red hoodie before sneaking under the fabric. your cold hands met his warm skin, sending a shiver down his spine. his eyes shot to yours, seeing the pure lust bubbling behind your irises. you cracked a prideful smile at Jake, fluttering your lashes as you bit your lower lip. “don’t worry, Jakey, it’s only natural.”

Jake’s breath uneven and chest rising and falling with staggering movements, he nodded, allowing the feel of your hands to travel over his taut tummy. you continued, your hands slowly trailing down the center of his abs, down to his bulge and palming him through his thin sweats. you could feel the heat radiating off of him, the unholy desire emitting from him. “need my help?” you asked with a slight smirk, making Jake gulp before he nodded, too far gone to even attempt to fix the issue on its own.

at his command, your hands tucked under the waistband of his sweatpants, feeling the bare skin of his cock, leaking and hard shamelessly. his eyes widened as a steady and small moan left his lips, licking them before another ripped through his throat. your hands wrapped tightly around his base, slowly flicking your wrist and feeling him twitch in your palm. Jake’s pretty, thick lips pulled apart in a small O, eyes fluttering with enjoyment at how your hand felt. the lewd wet sound of your fist fucking his cock was making him dizzy. his hand came to your throat, resting there softly, his lips chasing yours to suppress the endless litany of moans that began building up in the back of his throat.

“you’re so good— a-ah, keep going…” Jake praised with a shaky voice, bordering on a whine as his lips mumbled against yours. the way you were turned had you laying on your side facing him, practically pressed as close as possible, leg thrown over his side while your hands got to work on his poor, cruelly hard cock. Jake almost laughed, wondering how things went from 0 to 100 so quickly— he has no self control, that’s how. he can’t keep his dick down to save his life. he didn’t even realize he was hard until you did, and by that point he was far beyond saving.

with the movie long forgotten and Jake’s cock twitching in your hand you broke the kiss between you both. you smiled at him, biting your bottom lip with a small giggle.

“my Jakey, are you gonna cum? can my pretty boy cum? are you close?” Jake nodded at your words, almost sputtering as he huffed with need. every inch of him reacting to your movements, your words, your touch. Jake slowly started to twitch, his hips fucking upward into your fist, the rustling fabric of his sweats pathetically rusting against the couch cushions. you were evil with your pace, tugging his dick with fervor with no sign of slowing down. “it’s okay to cum, baby, let it out,” you encouraged, breathing against his mouth as he tried to kiss you again, whimpering softly, “I want you to be satisfied and cum for me. 1… 2….”

Jake felt his tummy tighten, balls fuller than necessary, before his vision turned white. your lips curled up as his cock twitched violently; his load spilling into your hot palm with a wet, desperate spurt. Jake’s hips stuttered upward into your palm, reacting harshly to the way your hand rubbed over his leaky slit. he moaned, sounding like he was on the verge of tears.

“3…” You laughed slightly, pecking his lips with a soft smooch. your eyes sparkly and proud of yourself for making your boyfriend cum like that. Jake lay almost motionless apart from his breathing, eyes glossed and distant. you raised your hands from his pants and grinned, licking up the mess with a soft moan, catching his attention again. Jake watched bewildered and also intrigued. almost proud of himself at how you lapped up his nasty juices.

“yummy,” you teased, wrapping your arm around his neck, toying with the short trimmings of his dark black hair, “love ya, Jakey.”

Jake hummed, a little worn out but satisfied, “Love you, hon…” more pecks on your lips were placed, grateful and loving.

[m4tthewmurd0ck]

Strawberry Sweet

── Azriel x Fem!Witch/Fae Hybrid Reader

also featuring platonic best friend! cassian x reader, and platonic best friend! rhysand x reader

I ~ INTRODUCTIONS ── PART TWO ── TABLE OF CONTENTS

based on [THESE] lyrics

obviously not book canon. references to battles that didn’t happen in the books, ooc inner circle, etc… 🤷🏻‍♀️ no use of y/n but i do use she / her. no descriptions other than reader being shorter than all 3 bat boys. reader is also able to winnow.

When you first met Azriel, you were sure he hated you.

With the rest of the inner circle, it had been easy. You met the High Lord first after saving his life, and you remembered the day like it happened yesterday.

Rhysand had taken to the skies one night, flying over Velaris and looking down at everything below. An ambush on Day Court had all the high lords on edge, with the message that the attackers weren’t finished being loud and clear. He knew it was bad when Helion reached out personally.

When he was attacked, it was 5 against 1. He ended up plummeting nearly 1,000 feet. As luck would have it, you were just returning home from a very late night trip to the markets.

Ever the quick thinker, you snapped your fingers, and all of your purchased goods floated into your home and all put themselves in their proper place. Then you turned your attention to the man falling from the sky. You held out a hand, and a blue light so dark that they almost resembled shadows, flowed from your palm and slowed the man’s descent just before he hit the ground.

You used your other hand to turn you both invisible until you were able to get him into your home.

To keep a long story short, because that was a tale for another time, it took a lot longer to heal him than you thought. You don’t know how much time passed, all you know is that it was completely dark outside when he fell but when you finished, you could see the sun was about to rise.

Rhysand woke up not long after you finished healing his wings.

You anticipated the first question he asked, so you beat him to it. Giving him a brief version, you explained that you were half witch, half fae. You didn’t explain your family history, or how you came to live alone. There was a sense of relief when he didn’t ask more questions, though you could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to.

“Not that I don’t love hosting you, but shouldn’t you be going? I’d imagine a lot of people are worried about you.”

You felt him trying to get into your mind, and wished you could’ve taken a picture of his face when you told him that wouldn’t be possible unless you allowed it. Centuries of practice ensured that even the strongest mind reader wouldn’t be able to access your thoughts so easily.

When he finally felt strong enough to stand, you followed closely behind him as he headed to the door.

“I’m not officially a healer, obviously, but if you ever need help, you may return. I only ask that you don’t tell anyone that I’m here. If word gets to the wrong person—”

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word. You’ve saved my life, and I owe you a debt far greater than anything I could pay you.”

You shook your head and insisted you didn’t need, or want, money.

“Well if there’s ever anything you need, no matter how big the request, please come find me.”

“Thank you, High Lord. I will keep that in mind.”

He managed a small smile. “You used magic to stitch part of my wings back together, please, at least call me Rhys. Or Rhysand if it makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded and after he thanked you again for saving his life, and after you said you did it because you wanted to help and not because you wanted something, he took to the skies. You wondered if you’d ever see him again.

But there was still a war going on, and you shouldn’t have been that surprised when he returned a few weeks later. What did surprise you, and even made you a little angry, was that he had not 1, but 2 people with him. Not living under a rock, you recognized them right away. And this was how you ended up meeting Cassian and Nesta.

That anger disappeared when you saw just how injured Cassian was. He could barely stand, even Nesta was having to help keep him upright.

Turning around, you went back into your home and snapped your fingers. Seconds later, everything on your dining table lay in neat piles on the floor. You were thankful that you’d opted for a larger table, and don’t think he would’ve fit on your bed.

You got to work healing him the moment Rhys set him down on the table. Although you worked fast in an attempt to ease his pain, it was clear he was still in a lot of it.

“I need to put him to sleep. He has broken bones and I promise none of you want him awake when I put them back in place.” You looked up at Nesta then, and for the first time since entering your home, her gaze left her mates, and she looked at you.

Unable to speak, she only nodded, silently giving you permission. He was out not long after that, and you worked for another 2 hours until you were satisfied that he’d be alright.

Nesta finally spoke up then, asking if you were going to wake him up. You explained that while putting him to sleep was fairly easy, you didn’t think it was the best idea to wake him up. That required going deep into his mind and wandering around until you found the part of it where he was waiting. That act in itself would give you access to every thought and memory that Cassian has ever had, and you didn’t like to do that to anyone without their explicit permission.

After explaining that it wouldn’t be long before he woke up on his own, as you redid one of Cassian’s bandages, you noticed Nesta give Rhys a look. He only shook his head and whispered that he trusted you.

You were right as you knew you would be, and it was just 10 minutes later that the general of the Night Court was opening his eyes and sitting up.

“Why… am I on a table??”

Nesta hated showing any sign of being vulnerable, so none were more shocked than Rhys and Cassian when she walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly. “I don’t know how we can repay you.”

You smiled when the 2 of you stepped apart. “No payment is needed, or wanted. I promise—” It felt like all the air left your body when Cassian took his turn with a hug, only he lifted you off of the ground and seemed to be trying to squeeze the life out of you.

“Cass, I happen to like her and would appreciate you not killing her.”

“Sorry! Just, you know, thanks for saving my life.“

After they left , all repeatedly thanking you on their way out, you wondered if what just happened was some sort of fever dream.

Over the next few months, the 3 would occasionally pop in, but all for different reasons. Rhys was still fascinated by you being half witch, half fae. All he wanted to do was sit and ask questions, and he’d hang on to every word you spoke as you answered. Cassian, who insisted you call him Cass, did come to you for healing. But for ‘injuries’ he very much could’ve handled on his own. He healed faster than a normal human, but you lost count of the amount of times you opened your door, or he opened it and barged in, telling you about a paper cut or the smallest bruise.

The first time Nesta came to visit, and you greeted her with “Lady Nesta”, you almost laughed at the daggers she sent your way. You quickly learned it was just Nesta, or Nes. During her second visit, the subject of fighting somehow came up. You mentioned your basic knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, but that you wished you were more advanced, or at least knew how to fight with a weapon. Ever since then, she’d come to visit at least once a week to try and convince you to join her on training with the Valkyries.

“I don’t know that I’d actually be any good,” you admitted, adding on that you were so used to fighting with your powers that you genuinely couldn’t remember what it was like to do so without them.

A month of pestering persuading had you finally agreeing to sit in on a training session with the Valkyries. And that was how you came to meet Azriel.

The following day, Nesta showed up at your front door bright and early. Well not bright, since the sun had yet to even rise, but with how you felt as you slowly got dressed, you knew it was definitely early. She assured you that Valkyries didn’t always train so early, but she wanted to get some one-on-one training with you.

After a brief discussion in which she promises you’ll end up having fun, you ask if all of her family will be training. She says no, with the Valkyries it’s usually only her and Cass. Rhys occasionally pops his head in to observe, but has been busy with everything going on so not so much lately.

“Oh I forgot you haven’t met everyone yet. Feyre, my sister and Rhys’ mate, prefers to train solo so you probably won’t see her today. Then there’s Azriel, he used to train with us a lot, well help train the women, but Rhys has been sending him out a lot lately. What with everyone being on edge from the attacks, we’re all eager to find out who’s behind it all.”

She explains where to go and you take her hand, winnowing you both to the training grounds.

“There she is!” You jump a little at Cass’ voice. He’s all the way on the other side of the room, but so loud that it’s as if he’s right next to you. He puts down a stack of papers and quickly makes his way over to you and Nesta. “You’re just in time, look.” He holds up his hand, showing you the tiniest of paper cuts on his left index finger.

You can’t help but laugh as you take his hand in yours and use your powers to close the cut.

Nesta shakes her head. “For a warrior, you sure are a big baby.” She turns to you, “you can just tell him to suck it up next time.”

Cass gasps, putting his hands on his face. “She’d never do that! At least she cares about me.”

“Do I really though?” You tilt you head.

“Hey! Just for that I’m not going easy on you today.”

“Wait you’re training me?”

“I’m going to take that as wait really! Wow I’m so lucky Cassian the general of the Night Court is training me. Now chop chop, let’s go!” He gently pushes you towards one of the larger mats on the ground.

You turn back to Nesta, who only shrugs and mouths good luck, before joining the other women.

Much like when you were focused on healing Rhys and Cass, time goes by in a blur. Before you know it, you’ve managed to knock Cass onto his back for the third time. You look at a clock nearby and find that nearly 2 hours have gone by.

“Woo!” The 2 of you stop and turn towards the door and see Feyre leaning against the door frame, clapping as she calls out your name and shouts his congratulations.

Cass rolls his eyes, but smiles when you hold out a hand to help him to his feet. “You kicked my ass today, I’d be a little upset if I wasn’t so impressed.”

When you use your powers to immediately dry all of your sweat, you’re happy you get to use your powers for more mundane things like this.

“Ahem!”

Now it’s you turn to roll your eyes. Still, you face one of your hands towards Cass, and he’s also dry just a few seconds later.

“Thank you,” he gives a dramatic bow before telling you all he’s going to go shower.

Before you can ask why he made you do that if he was just planning to shower anyway, Feyre finally approaches you and Nesta. You become aware of how affectionate the inner circle can be, when Feyre pulls you in for a hug, not saying anything for a moment.

“You saved Rhys, I owe you everything. Thank you,” she whispers.

“I promise, you don’t owe me a thing,” you shake your head. “I’m just happy he ended up falling outside of my home. If it had been anywhere else I wouldn’t have seen it, or I wouldn’t have been able to slow his fall.”

Cass pops his head back in the room. “Anyone know if Az is coming by to train later? I couldn’t get a hold of him earlier.”

Feyre nods, “he got back less than an hour ago, I think he told Rhys he’d be by here at some point. Oh, never mind.”

The last part of her sentence comes when she looks toward the door, this time towards the ground. You watch as what looks like a series of small clouds slowly makes their way towards you. Upon closer inspection, you realize they’re shadows.

“Azriel is a shadowsinger, right?” When Nesta nods, you continue. “Do they often travel like this without him?”

“No,” Feyre watches them get closer. “I mean they can if he sends them somewhere but I don’t see why he’d send them here when he knows it’s only us…”

When the shadows finally reach you, they move faster as if they’re excited. One makes its way to the top of your head, swirling around your face. It’s a cool, almost ticklish sensation. Another weaves its way around your legs, while the last one circles your hands, as if it can sense the power you hold.

Healer.

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean I guess technically yes, among other things. But I’m still working on my healing abilities so—” You look up to find Nesta, Feyre, and Cass all staring at you. “What?”

Cass just stares at you, now with his mouth open in shock.

“We didn’t say anything…”

“Wait did — were you talking to the shadows??”

Now you were confused. “Yes… it asked, well it said I was a healer and I was just explaining—”

“You can understand them?!”

“I… they don’t speak to all of you?” You watched in amazement as the shadows continued to explore you.

Cass finally breaks his silence. “No. We’ve never heard them say anything. How the hell…”

Magic. Friend.

You smile. Holding your hands out and palms facing up, you produce 2 dark blue clouds a lot similar in appearance to the shadows. They swarm your clouds, but return to you once they realize that they’re not real shadows.

Feyre observes this, a small smile on her face. “Interesting.”

All at once, 2 of the 3 shadows stop their movements, then quickly make their way back out of the room. A minute later, the shadowsinger himself enters the room.

“Dude!” Cass began to make his way towards his brother, but Nesta elbows him in the ribs as she grabs his arm to keep him in place.

When Azriel looks at you, he freezes. He can only stand and watch as the shadow that remained in the room continues to move between your hands and your head. But when you look up at him, your first thought is that you’ve somehow offended him with your actions, so you drop your hands and step back, closer to Nesta.

The lone shadow finally returns to Azriel, hovering around his right ear. You wish you could hear what it’s telling him.

You’re further embarrassed when all Azriel does is quickly look away from you before he asks Cass to speak to him.

Once the 2 men are out of the room, you voice your concerns out loud. “I should apologize when Azriel comes back in.”

Nesta looks at you, clearly confused. “What, why would you apologize? You haven’t done anything.”

“I just… I don’t think he liked that his shadows were paying so much attention to me. I don’t know if he heard me speaking to one but I don’t want to offend him or cause any trouble.”

Feyre’s expression softened. She replaced Nesta at your side, and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “That’s just Azriel, at least with someone he isn’t familiar with yet. It’s not often we bring anyone new around. He just needs time.”

You didn’t stay much longer after that, chatting to the 2 Archeron sisters for only a few more minutes before making an excuse to leave. It was obvious why you were in such a rush, but you were grateful that neither woman tried to persuade you to stay.

When you finally winnowed back to your home, you forced yourself to take a shower before collapsing onto your bed. Maybe a nap was what you needed.

You couldn’t help but think about Azriel. Everyone else was quick to warm up to you, and you still thought that you offended him by how you interacted with his shadows.

As you lay there and waited for sleep to pull you under, you wondered if he’d end up hating you.

what a shitty place to end it hahdjdnsdkc BUT part 2 picks up right where this leaves off! if i kept going we’d end the chapter at like 6k which is too long for my liking.

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[prettealolilol]

So, I love the headcanon of the batfam being menaces in the kitchen, and that half of them are banned from entering for the rest of their life.

However, you can't tell me that Batman, the man who has contingency plans for his contingency plans, who carries shark spray repellent, the man who travelled for a year (i think ?) on his own with only a backpack (and a lot of money but still), doesn't know how to cook. There is no way, he can't fend for himself in any type of situation (apocalypse ? ready; zombies ? ready; stranded on an island on his own ? ready). He can definitely take care of himself without Alfred, because Bruce is paranoid and there's the eventuality of the butler dying. And anyway, he probably learnt some dishes when he was younger so he could help Alfred around the house (it made him feel closer to the only caring adult in his life). He also definitely learnt traditional dishes while travelling and every time he adopts (it's his way of showing he cares).

(Cooking was one of the ways he bonded with Jason. The boy was tense and wary, not used to having so much food for free. When Bruce realised Jason cooked, he offered to teach him a few dishes he learnt around the world. It was the first time Jason called Bruce 'dad'. Every year they would cook (and make a mess) for Alfred's birthday.)

There's this whole thing with Dick only eating cereal (I don't know much about him, sorry) and being close behind Bruce as a kitchen menace. I don't really know how life in a circus works, but I'll go with the fact that they didn't always have access to a kitchen while traveling, so the food was never sophisticated. Yet, with the circus, Dick travelled a lot and met wonderful people. Some locals would sometimes bring them traditional plates, and even teach him how to cook them. The reason he doesn't really cook is because he finds the kitchen too complicated. Who needs so many utensils ? It's disorienting and feels too clinical (Dick associates cooking with sweet lessons from his mom and having fun with the people from the circus.).

(The times he actually took the time to cook at the manor was when Jason joined and they would try to bake. Dick cooks with Damian sometimes. At first it was to make him comfortable by being domestic, giving the excuse of learning to work together, but now it's just to bond. Bruce joins them sometimes.)

As said previously Jason knows how to cook. I'm not sure if it's canon, but he cooked for his mom, and is never banned from the kitchen in what I read. Similarly to Dick, he grew up cooking easy things. He didn't have access to much food, most of the time stealing from markets and fighting for bread in back alleys. He would stand in the shadows, staring at the window of a restaurant kitchen until he knew the moves by heart and would redo them at home (he'd spend days saving money and stealing the adequate ingredients). It was always simple dishes though. So when Jason first stepped in the kitchen ? He was amazed, and felt like one of those chefs he would observe for ours. The first weeks, he'd wait until everyone was in bed and sneaked in to cook (Alfred always acted like he didn't know). When he came back to Gotham after the pit, he began stress-cooking a lot. He'd steal money from Bruce and cook enough to feed a whole building in Crime Alley (he ate some once and threw up immediately. It tasted too much like home. He never ate anything he cooked again).

(Cooking with Alfred became an excuse to come to the manor and stay for dinner and sometimes even the night. (The first few times, the butler was the only one Jason could be with without activating his fight or flight instinct.) Watching his family unknowingly eat something he cooked and praising the food makes him feel like he may be allowed to be part of the family. Slowly, he starts leaving food to them (on the batmobile because he knows Bruce didn't eat before patrol, in Tim's office because he overworked and didn't go home, in Dick's kitchen because he got hurt during his day job), and nobody ever mentions it.)

I already explained my point of view for Tim in a previous post. Whether his parents were loving or not (fanon vs canon), they still travelled a lot. So Tim grew up having to learn to cook because there wasn't always someone at Drake's manor, and Drakes don't call people in the middle of the night because they're hungry or a little sick. So Tim knew the basics to care for himself, he learnt to wrap and stitch his own wounds at ten after being too close to an explosion where Batman and Riddler fought (seeing later the pictures he got, Tim thought getting some glass in his arm was completely worth it). Of course, he doesn't know any complicated dishes, he does enjoy the chemical aspect of it, the reactions between the ingredients, the way the molecules change with time and temperature variations. Tim also enjoys the historic aspect of it, so he'd learn to make dishes just because he liked the story related to its invention (it has proven useful in many social gatherings to know so much about food and culture). When he started as Robin, those skills became useful when he had to cook for Bruce in the middle of the night because he wouldn't wake Alfred up. After moving in the manor, Tim kind of dropped this little hobby. Alfred is here to cook, and he has other things to worry about (Jason coming back, then Damian being introduced, the whole time stream issue...).

(When he has some time, Tim scrolls on his social media, saving videos about recipes and learning about dishes and their history. He promises himself he'll find some time to try them. When Jason starts leaving each of them food, Tim buys a recipe book. As often as he can, he cooks something, prints a copy of the recipe and drops it off at Jason's current place. One time, when Damian is sick and no one else but Tim is at the manor, he ends up cooking an Arabic dish (a grandma recipe for sick children). Damian stops saying he's useless after this.)

Again, I don't know much about Cass, so it's really how I feel about it. Cass grew with simple dishes. When she joined the batfam, she didn't understand the importance of sharing a meal, people eating together, Alfred spending so much time in the kitchen, or why there were so many ways to cook one ingredient. Just like Dick, the kitchen feels too unnecessarily full, too many things that are just not imperative. To her, food was here to feed and strengthen the body. Cooking should be fast and easy because food was not supposed to be pleasant, just necessary. She doesn't really know how to cook. She can prepare food so it's edible, hunt or light up a fire. But growing up with her father taught her that food is only here to feed. She actually discovers its importance after walking in on Jason and Alfred cooking together. It was one of the rare times Jason would go farther than the cave and into the manor. They were not talking, and yet the atmosphere was soft, acknowledging. Reading Jason's body, she saw happiness and contemptment, the usual tension and anger nowhere in sight. She asks Tim about him (because he's the one who offered to teach her sign language, the one who she goes to when she needs a definition.) and he tells her how cooking can be many things, it can be an offer, it can be death, it can be love, it can be survival...

(Alfred once explained how it was his way of caring. He'd make different dishes depending on people's mood or state. When Cass understood that cooking was a form of language, she took it upon herself to learn. She watches Alfred cook for days, asking questions. She goes to Jason's place to ask him his opinion, teasing him when he gets flustered under her staring. She learns to cook and enjoys it.)

At the league, Damian was a prince. He didn't cook, it was beneath his status, there were servants for that. Like Cass, although he had access to higher quality food, it was only there to feed you. When he arrived at the manor ? The shock to see only one servant, and that his Father sometimes cooked for himself. His Father, who her mother had represented as a king, someone powerful enough to have his grandfather's respect, the man he was supposed to become. It took time for Damian to step into the kitchen for different reasons. First of all, the kitchen was not his place to be, it's Pennyworth's territory. He was not welcome there and knew that to make an enemy out of the man that raised his Father. Secondly, Damian was taught restraint, he would not give in to his basic urge. He could wait until morning even if he felt like his stomach was clenching on itself. The reason for walking in the kitchen was Grayson dragging him inside, promising some bonding time necessary for working together (it was fun, although Damian would not admit it).

(After realising the importance of cooking in the household, Damian decided he could not not know how to cook. Everyone seemed to have the knowledge it wouldn't do for him not to know. Maybe, he also felt like cooking would teach him to be a better part of the family and be accepted as the method he was taught all his life did not work. He learnt to cook on his own, sneaking in the kitchen and training. When he finally mastered a dish, he announced to Alfred he'll be cooking for the evening. Even if he'd never admit it, the praises he received that evening made him feel lighter, like he belonged. And no Grayson, he was not blushing.)

When Duke moves in the manor, it's kinda weird to have a butler. Duke was raised in a normal, middle class family, so cooking is a normal thing he helped his parents with. He would come home from school and help his parents cook dinner, sometimes doing it himself if they were still at work. He didn't know anything fancy or foreign dishes, but he could cook well. So having Alfred do it alone all day ? Not how Duke was raised. The first weeks, he would go into the kitchen and offer his help to Alfred, who would constantly refuse, joking about letting him do his job or he might become useless in his old age. Although it was a joke, Duke (who had just moved in and didn't really know how to act) stopped asking, not wanting to make the butler think he was taking his place.

(He still cooks sometimes, when he feels nostalgic. Cooking reminds him of his parents, his mothers' laughter and his father(s warm hand on his shoulder. When Duke discovers that Cass is learning to cook, he decides to do it with her, learning new recipes from around the world. It helped him a lot to feel at home at the Wayne manor.)

My point is, love the massacre this family can be when left unattended in a kitchen, but they definitely know how to cook.