#bounce house rescue.

[obxsummer]

paper rings // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader (she/her)

summary: sarah cameron takes a test before she joins you and john b on a rescue mission. your brother has no aim whatsoever, you can't drive a boat, and jj's got an important question for john b. (p.s. sarah cameron is an angel)

warnings: pregnancy trope (i still love u sarah), john b & jj cry sesh!!

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--

If you had asked Sarah Cameron what her life would look like at one point, she would’ve never told you this. She would’ve never guessed she’d be living with five Pogues who happened to be her best friends, and one Pogue leader boyfriend. That seemed impossible, but here she was.

John B was still passed out in bed, having carried you to your own at some point during the night to be tucked under warm blankets. Kie was snoring away, and Pope and Cleo had yet to emerge from their room, so Sarah had the house to herself, technically. 

She made her way out early in the morning when the sun was just peeking through, steering her bicycle into the downtown area. It was still trashed, obviously, but it seemed the worst of the damage had been taken care of and the fires were out. Keeping her head down, she ducked into the pharmacy in hopes of finding the thing she came here to.

Three years ago, if you would’ve asked Sarah Cameron, she would never be stealing pregnancy tests from a pharmacy, and she sure as shit wouldn’t be doing it at age nineteen.

Grabbing the two boxes, she stuffed them in her bag before collecting a handful of other items you all needed at the house. Might as well, considering there was still no power and the store wasn’t secured with the broken glass everywhere. 

Shuffling her way out the door, she tried to look as inconspicuous as possible while walking back to her bike. It was clear the riot had continued further past JJ’s departure since most stores were wiped of merchandise and torn to shreds.

The sunshine caught on the shards of glass scattered and Sarah held her hand up to her forehead to block the reflection from burning into her eyes. She came face to face with the local jewelry store window, the one she’d been in just a few weeks before.

--

JJ threw open the door to Sarah and John B’s room without any hesitation, and thank God the duo were actually taking a nap and not enjoying their alone time in other ways.

“Sarah!” JJ’s attempt at whispering was not going well. “Sarah, wake the fuck up!”

The girl in question groaned at being pulled from her slumber. “The fuck, JJ? What?”

The blond boy waited for her to look over at him before he was waving her closer. She huffed and shuffled out of John B’s arms, her boyfriend still snoring soundly with the grace of a heavy sleeper. Following JJ out of their room, she closed the door softly behind her so John B wouldn’t wake up.

“I need your help with something,” JJ explained.

Sarah took one look at his expression and smirked. “Holy shit, you’re so stressed.”

JJ rolled his eyes and grabbed her by her shoulders. “I need you to help me find a ring.”

“A ring? A ring for what?” Sarah repeated in confusion.  JJ shushed her, his index finger pressing against her lips as she went wide-eyed with realization. Sarah was practically jumping now, her excitement evident as she pulled JJ’s hand away from her face. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”

“Yes, now be quiet!” He looked over his shoulder to see if you were done with your shower and found the door still closed and water running. “We have to go now, okay? I don’t want her being suspicious.”

Sarah was quick to agree, bouncing as she ran down the stairs to grab her shoes and purse before meeting JJ by the Twinkie.

The two spent a good two hours in town, Sarah having been former friends with the jewelry store employee who was more than willing to answer any and all of JJ’s questions.

“What size ring does she wear?” Sarah asked as she scanned the cases for anything that caught her eye. “Do you think she’s a princess cut girl like me? Oh my God, this one is gorgeous.”

“Princess cut?” JJ repeated the phrase, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looked down at the ring Sarah was pointing at. “The fuck does that mean?”

Sarah looked up at him, dumbfounded. “Do you know the slightest thing about what she wants?”

JJ tilted his head and looked back at her. “Sarah, we’re Pogues. Have been our whole lives. Do you think she even has the slightest clue about what any of this means?”

Accepting defeat with that one, Sarah shrugged and turned back to the options displayed. “Whatever it is, you better make it a good one with all the shit she deals with when it comes to you.” She shoved JJ teasingly and moved to look at another area of the room. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Princess Cameron.” JJ rolled his eyes and followed her without any disagreement. 

--

Sarah frowned at the memory. The days of peace and hoping for the celebration you and JJ could have were long gone, but she hoped they could find a way to change that. If anyone deserved that happy-ever-after feeling, it was you and JJ. 

Biking back to Poguelandia was quiet, and Sarah was thankful for the time to think. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with the pink tests in her bag and her heart was racing just thinking about it. She was nineteen, John B was almost twenty, but shit they were still young. This wasn’t what she imagined when she thought about having a family. Not in an environment like this.

Sarah tiptoed her way back up the stairs, noticing all the doors were closed except for the one to your room. A tiny part of her was relieved and she peeked in to see the balcony doors open, curtains blowing lightly with the wind. Closing your bedroom door behind her, Sarah made her way out to where you were resting in the hammock with your eyes closed.

“Hi,” She whispered quietly, not wanting to scare you.

You blinked and smiled up at her. “Hi, you okay?”

Sarah bit her lip in response, hand searching blindly in her back for the boxes before she held them up for you to see. “Um… can you-can I do this, in here? With you?”

You nodded, pushing yourself out of the woven hammock to meet her in the doorway, grabbing her hand in yours. Sarah tossed her bag on your bed and followed you into the connected bathroom, forcing a deep breath into her lungs. 

“I’ll wait, out… on the other side of the door?” You asked carefully, not sure if she wanted you in the room or not. When she nodded, you squeezed her hand. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Yeah.” Sarah nodded in agreement, but she was obviously trying to convince herself more than you. You attempted to give her a reassuring smile, but it probably didn’t help considering you were just as nervous for her. She closed the door quietly after that.

You paced the floor for a moment, wanting to give her the space and privacy she deserved while also fighting the bile in your throat. What the fuck happened now?

And where the fuck was JJ?

There had been no texts or calls from your boyfriend since last night, and although you were trying to give him the space and trust he deserved, you were worried. He wasn’t in the right mindset last night, and you didn’t have enough time to talk him down like you wanted to, like you always did. 

Grabbing your phone from the charger, you unlocked it and immediately moved to the Find My app where you could see JJ’s location pinging from Goat Island. You cursed, knowing he probably went in search of Groff after the information Luke shared.

JJ deserved answers. He deserved the truth. You shook your head, thinking about how Luke Maybank abused a boy that wasn’t even his, realizing how heartbreaking this whole situation was. It was unfair, and cruel, that everything good in JJ’s life had been ripped from him in some way.

Moving back to your messages, you typed one out: babe you okay?? we can come get you??

The message wasn’t read right away, causing you to sigh, but remind yourself that he might be busy talking to Groff. Or something was wrong. And you really really hoped something wasn’t wrong.

Your bathroom door creaked open slightly, Sarah’s face poking out as you got to your feet. Her expression wasn’t easily readable but she shifted enough for you to see the two tests on counter, both with two bright lines on their screens.

“Okay,” You spoke quietly, watching her expression for any kind of indication of how she felt.

“Impeccable timing,” She replied stoically. You nodded, trying to think of any words to comfort her but were stopped by the sound of footsteps.

“Hey! Is Sarah in here?” There was no time to prepare for Kiara’s sudden presence as she popped up next to you. Her eyes locked in on the bathroom counter instantly and her jaw dropped. The turning gears in her head were practically visible as she turned to face Sarah. “Um… are those yours?”

Sarah bit her lip, clearly nervous at the thought of more people knowing. “Yeah.”

Kiara was instantly looking over at you. “Oh, shit.”

Sarah frowned at the response, her eyes moving between the two of you in attempt to figure out what she was missing. “What? What’s ‘oh shit’ about?”

You shook your head, trying to give Kiara the sign to shut up. “Nothing, nothing. There’s nothing to be worried about-”

Kie thankfully picked up on your clue and started to dig herself out of the hole she created, “I mean… soon to be homeless, broke again, chased by killers. I don’t really know how it could get better.”

Sarah hummed, her eyes glancing back at the positive tests. “It would be like, super great, if maybe you could fine, like, one positive thing,” Her voice was shaky as she looked back at the two of you, eyes damp with tears. 

“You’re gonna be an amazing mom,” You answered simply, like it was the easiest thing because it was. Sarah Cameron had all the great qualities that a parent should have, and you were so happy for her. You just wished it had been at a better time.

“The best,” Kie agreed quietly, “And John B loves you. He’s gonna be an all right dad.”

The idea sent the three of you into laughter at the thought of John B, your John B, raising a kid. 

“And you have all of us,” You continued as you reached out to grab Sarah’s hand again. “Each and every one of us.”

Sarah nodded, her arms opening to pull you and Kiara into a group hug. “I love you guys.”

“We love you,” Kiara replied, her hand squeezing your side just a little bit tighter in an unspoken conversation. “So, what does this make me Auntie Kie now?”

The three of you pulled apart with more laughter, the cloud over your heads slowly disappearing with each passing minute. 

“Does… does John B know?” Kiara asked after a moment. Sarah pulled the tests off the counter, tossing them in the boxes and into the garbage with a shake of her head, telling Kiara that he didn’t, not yet.

“Any word from JJ?” Sarah switched the topic to pull the attention off herself.

You glanced at your phone to see an empty lockscreen and shook your head in response. “No. I have an idea of where he is, I just don’t know if he needs us yet.”

Eventually, Sarah slipped downstairs to make breakfast, finding John B already up and moving around the kitchen with the smell of bacon lingering. 

“Hi,” She greeted softly, kissing his cheek before unloading the items she had stolen from the store into the fridge. “Didn’t think you were up.”

John B flipped a piece of bacon. “Heard you laughing with the girls, figured I’d come get something started before we head out for the day. When did you go out?”

“Early,” Sarah replied shortly, her chest tight with the possibility of John B overhearing the news before she could share it. “Did you.. Did you hear us?”

He gave her a quick glance before putting the butter back in the fridge. “Laughing? Yeah, but that was about it. Everything okay?”

Sarah nodded as John B wrapped her in a hug, kissing her forehead gently. “Your sister knows where JJ is.”

John B blinked in surprise at the fact that you weren’t busting down the stairs. “And we’re not going to him because?”

Sarah shrugged. “She said she wants to wait, to see if he needs us.”

While John B wasn’t sure that was the best idea, nobody knew JJ better than you, so he had no room to argue with the decision.

“The ring was gone. From the jewelry shop.”

John B nearly choked on his own spit and coughed to clear his throat. Sarah giggled at the reaction, a smile spreading across her cheeks at the way he blushed. 

“You’re lying. Please tell me you’re lying.”

“Nope,” She popped the p in her word and waved her left hand in front of his face where her homemade ring rested on her finger. “We’re not going to be special anymore, Vlad.”

John B smiled at the nickname that he hadn’t heard in a while. “You’re always gonna be special to me, Val.”

You walked down the stairs a few moments later, now dressed for the day and stomach growling with the scent of food. “Hey,” You greeted John B as he set a plate full of eggs on the table while Sarah dipped upstairs to tell the others that food was ready. “Thanks for last night, you didn’t have to stay.”

John B sat outside with you until the early hours of the morning, holding you close with the knowledge that the nightmares would be worse if someone wasn’t there. This was the first time in a while JJ wasn’t home when you went to sleep, and John B didn’t want you to worry all night, so he stayed.

“‘Course,” He replied simply, pausing to lean against the table and look at you carefully. “You heard from J?”

You shook your head, snagging a piece of bacon from the plate. “He went to Goat Island. To see Groff.”

“Groff?” John B paused. You nodded and bit off half a piece. “Like Chandler Groff?”

“Yeah, Luke was spewing some shit when JJ went to see him, so he’s trying to get answers. I didn’t ask, he seemed kind of upset about it. I’m sure he’s trying to figure out how Luke got a bypass to take the house,” You explained, trying to answer the question without really answering it. 

John B seemed to roll with it and your friends slowly filtered their way into the kitchen to eat their hearts out. Sarah tucked herself in the chair next to you, John B on her other side. The empty chair at the table was a little too obvious, and when the read receipt didn’t show up on your phone all morning, you knew something had definitely gone wrong.

--

John B and Sarah were in agreement the second you said something felt off about JJ not answering. You quickly cleaned up after breakfast (though it was more like lunch at this point), and tried to get ahold of JJ again. Your texts were no longer being read, but his location was still pinging near Goat Island and you knew you had to drag your friends into it despite JJ’s wishes.

“We can take the HMS, he took the charter boat,” John B offered as you tried calling JJ again, to no avail. 

“We’ll try to find out some more about the rezoning,” Pope offered as he motioned toward Cleo. “It’s only a matter of time before they come knocking. We might as well prepare for it. Could stop by and say hi to Ma and Pops too.”

Kie nodded in agreement, “I need to go check in at home, anyway. Mom’s gonna kill me with how yesterday went.”

John B nodded in understanding and tugged a shirt on over his tank top. “Alright, we’ll catch up with you guys later, yeah?”

The three of you took to the HMS shortly after, John B setting his course to Goat Island. Sarah plopped next to you on the small bench, leaning against your shoulder as you stared across the water.

Your brother was, recognizing the distant look in your eyes but his confusion was focused on Sarah’s sudden silence. She seemed excited earlier in the kitchen when talking about her new revelation, but she’s gotten quiet since then. John B made an internal note to ask her later.

“What’s that?” Your eyes caught sight of another boat across the marsh, barely covered by the plants covering it. “Kill the engine, JB,” You directed as you ducked down out of view. The fact that the sun was still setting didn’t help your cover but hopefully, the marsh grass would do its job enough for you to get a closer look. You could just barely see a group out on one of the ledges, a handful of them all with their sights on two people.

“Shit, that’s JJ,” You pointed slightly to the white shirt covering the form of your boyfriend. From here, he looked generally unharmed, but you still didn’t like the way the mercenaries were holding him back. 

“And Groff.” John B locked onto the form of the older man who was also being held a little too tight to be friendly. 

“Those are the guys from Charleston who took the scroll,” Sarah pointed toward the guy and girl that you and John B had narrowly avoided in the cemetery. The man she pointed at was the one Cleo had tried to kill, the same one that almost killed you while diving.

“What do they want with JJ?” John B asked, his eyes not leaving the form of his best friend, whose arm was wrenched behind his back with a machete a little too close to his face. 

You shook your head, heart practically in your throat at the scene in front of you. “I don’t think it’s JJ they want. He’s collateral.”

John B ran a hand through his hair. “We could, like, ram them. Create a distraction,” He offered.

“Ram that?” You repeated as you pointed toward the much larger boat. “John B, come on!”

“Sorry! Just trying to think!”

“Wait, hey!” Sarah reached down to grab the handful of liquor bottles that were remaining from your last store run, having been left on the HMS in a hurry, clearly. “A little Molotov cocktail, maybe?”

You gave her a side glance. “That’s psychotic. Let’s find some rags.”

John B quickly pulled up the bench seat in search of any leftover towels. You tugged your favorite beach towel from underneath you, fingers struggling for a second before you were able to rip it into strips, quickly tossing them to your brother.

“John B, hurry!” You hissed as the lady’s attention moved to JJ, her form much closer than before. 

“I’m trying! Shit!” 

Sarah ripped one bottle from his hand, tucking a few towel strips into the neck of the bottle and swirling it to the alcohol would drench the towels. “Light it, we'll distract them. He’ll get free, jump over, and we’ll grab him.”

“Just don’t hit him,” You looked at your brother, slightly terrified with the knowledge of his past aim. “I’d like him in one piece, please.”

John B quickly tied a rope around the bottle, his fingers moving as fast as he could to tie one of the knots your father had taught as kids. “Don’t hit JJ with the Molotov cocktail. Gotcha.”

Your hands searched your jean shorts for JJ’s lighter that you rarely left home without, handing it over to John B for his use. “Be careful, please.”

Sarah tucked herself behind the wheel of the ship, your brother on the front bow with the cocktail and lighter in hand. He quickly lit the towel, a curse leaving his lips at how fast it caught flame before he tossed JJ’s lighter back to you and started spinning the rope with the flames midair.

“Oh my God, I should’ve done it,” You huffed as you ducked next to Sarah, John B’s tactic clearly a horrible one. 

With a final grunt, he put his whole body into the throw… only for it to come back down on the floor of the boat.

“John B!” You chastised as the flames sprinkled over the floor. “You’re a dumbass!”

“Oh shit!” John B tumbled into the water in shock, the splash definitely giving away your cover if the fire itself didn’t.

You cursed and pushed Sarah back when she went to run for him, your stern eyes keeping her in place as you ripped open the cabinet beneath the wheel to grab the fire extinguisher Pope insisted on being there despite JJ’s best wishes. 

In his defense, John B was kicking and shoving water onto the boat, lessening the flames before you pulled the pin on the extinguisher and knocked the rest of it out in a cloud of powder. 

“Are you okay?” Sarah reached down to pull your brother back on board.

“I’m so sorry,” John B coughed and flung his extra shirt over into the boat.. 

“A blind person could’ve thrown that better!” You hissed and helped Sarah haul his weighted form up.

John B shrugged your hands off, his attention back on the cabinet where he pulled out a slingshot that JJ insisted on buying at the local county fair one year, swearing water balloon fights were going to become his new hobby.

You grabbed the second bottle as John B tied the rubber pieces to stabilize them. 

“You have ten seconds to explain yourself, or we start shooting!”

You recognized the man’s voice, knowing he was the one who had chased after you and JJ underwater that day. John B shuffled around on the floor, pulling the bands back into position for you to settle the bottle into his grip.

“Ready?” You asked, flicking the lighter open in your hand. Your brother nodded, giving you permission to bring the flame closer until the towel caught and the flames warmed your skin. 

John B took a deep breath, his movements calculated as he aligned and leaned back further. “Bye bye.”

The bottle launched this time, flying across the channel gap to the larger boat where the glass shattered on impact. The group went scrambling and you lost sight of JJ in the glowing orange light. 

“I said not to hit him!” You smacked your brother’s shoulder out of anxiety and looked back to the fiery scene ahead. “Let’s go!” 

John B moved instantly to restart the engine and steer closer to where JJ could hopefully get a better approach to jump. Your jaw dropped at the sight of a burning form going overboard to remove the flames from his clothes. 

“Where is he?” You called out aimlessly as John B approached the boat. He tugged on your elbow, pulling you behind the wheel without any explanation, and stood on the edge. 

“I’ll find him,” He promised before hopping to the other boat like it was the easiest thing ever. “Circle back around.”

Sarah thankfully shifted you gently, understanding you hated driving the boat in the first place, let alone when both of your boys were up to no good. Her hands took over easily and she steered the boat with a precision you never had.

“Thank God you used to be a Kook,” You breathed out with a small laugh, Sarah smiling in response but keeping her eyes focused. “We’ve gotta quit letting them do stupid shit like this together!”

Sarah huffed, turning around slightly to bring the larger boat into view as you waited for the boys to come into view. “I’ll kill them myself, actually.”

After a moment of looking, you caught JJ’s white t-shirt sprinting out one of the doors higher up, John B right behind him. Your brother took to the ladder, JJ engaging in another fight with the mercenary who intercepted him.

“Shit, shit, go!” You directed to Sarah when both boys were as high as they could climb. The crew below was recovering from the distraction and slowly shifting closer to engage. You screamed as one started climbing the rungs just behind your boyfriend, “JJ!”

His head snapped up immediately at your voice, barely sparing a glance at John B before the fear of you watching him get killed outweighed the jump they were about to take. “Ready?”

“Screw it.”

You couldn’t tell whether they were screams of excitement or fear, but both John B and JJ jumped as far away from the boat as they could. Sarah moved just as quickly, giving the vessel enough push to float next to the two close enough that you could lean down and grab hold. 

You anchored your weight and reached down with two hands to grab JJ’s wrists, a small grunt slipping out as you pulled him up with your momentum, both of you tumbling to the floor of the HMS. Sarah and John B had been much more graceful, your brother having enough time to get back to his feet and behind the wheel, jamming the throttle forward just as gunshots rang out.

You reached out to grab Sarah’s wrist, pulling her back down as John B swerved to make it harder to aim. JJ coughed under you, your leg tucked between his two as you sat up to keep an eye out for the mercenaries to follow. When they didn’t, you put your attention on the boy.

“Holy shit,” You breathed before bending to kiss him deeply, fingers tangling into his wet hair as his hands grabbed your hips tightly. You managed two more quicker kisses before settling back. “You okay?”

JJ’s thumbs slipped under your tank top to brush your skin gently as you looked him over for any obvious injuries. “Oh baby, you have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

“Hey, hey. Keep it PG down there, you two,” John B’s request made you scoff and you moved down to kiss JJ again despite your brother’s wishes. Sarah sat next to your brother, letting him rest on her shoulder as she took over driving so John B’s adrenaline could wear off easier. 

The four of you burst into laughter, sinking into the relief that you found your missing piece and could return home for the little time you had left there. What you didn’t know, just yet, was that the boys made it out with the scroll relating to the Blue Crown and your next treasure hunt was just around the corner.

--

After arriving back at Poguelandia, Sarah had practically dragged you into the house with the intent to shower before you’d rejoin the boys and catch everyone up on the last few hours. 

“Hey, dude,” JJ stopped John B before the older boy left the dock after he tied up the HMS. “Can I talk to you about something?”

John B nodded without any hesitation, nudging his head toward the store to at least get under the light since night had taken over. The Routledge boy dug into the cooler, grabbing a beer for himself before tossing one to his best friend. “Let me guess, this has to do with the grabby hands you had at the jewelry store last night?”

JJ’s jaw practically hit the floor which had John B dying from laughter in a few seconds. 

“How the fuck did you know?” JJ glanced around quickly to make sure nobody else was around to hear the conversation. “Seriously, are you a mind reader or like-”

“Sarah told me,” John B took a deep breath to resettle his emotions. “Said it was gone.”

JJ groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly, he didn’t know how to talk to his best friend of almost fifteen years. How does one ask their best friend of fifteen years permission to marry his sister?

“Look, I know this conversation should’ve been had with your dad, and I wish it could be because there’s a lot of things I would say to him first,” JJ started off, his words a little too heavy for his liking, but he had to acknowledge it. He had to acknowledge the fact that they were still kids in a scary world, and Big John should’ve been better to you. 

Clearing his throat, JJ took a big sip of his beer before forcing himself to meet John B’s gaze. “I mentioned it and you probably thought I was joking, but I also know there is nothing more she would want than for you to hear about this first. More than anything in the world, John B.”

John Booker Routledge had prepared himself for a lot of things in life, but he never prepared himself to be staring at his best friend with tears in his eyes over you. To be talking about another person protecting you when he couldn’t, to give up being the one you ran to for help. John B didn’t want to admit it, but he felt like this was saying goodbye to being your big brother. 

“I love her, man. I love her more than I ever thought I was capable. She makes me… she makes me so good. Like I’m more than the kid with the piece of shit dad and the shit short stick. I’m more than that to her, and… and I couldn’t be more thankful for that. Like you can’t make that shit up, bro,” JJ let out a teary laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s like the fucking sunshine after a hurricane, like no matter what, it’s gonna be okay, and I don’t want to lose her. Ever.

“I want to make her the happiest person in the world. She deserves a life so much better than this one, where she’s not worried about food on the table, or if we’re coming home at night. She and Sarah, hell all of us, we all deserve that, man. I just…I just want the chance to give it to her.” 

John B stared at the person across from him who was spewing words he couldn’t read in cursive. This was JJ, JJ fucking Maybank. The kid who smoked weed like it was his job and hosted keggers like it was nobody’s business. John B’s watched that version of JJ, the ticking time bomb version, completely disappear. That version of JJ doesn’t exist anymore, and in its place was the one John B had grown to trust when it came to you. 

The version that held your hand when the road was rocky. The one who picked flowers in your favorite colors just to see the excitement in your eyes before they died two days later. The JJ that held you night after night when your head became too messy and you wanted to give up. This was the JJ that knew your anxiety attacks and how to stop them, how to be level-headed with you even when it was hard to. This is the JJ that John B knew you deserved.

JJ was pacing now that his best friend hadn’t really said much and he was worried the idea was flying out from under his fingertips. “I know I don’t deserve her, John B. I never will. And I’ll never forgive myself for letting everything happen to her. I should’ve been there, I should’ve done better. But I swear to you, from here on out, I will do everything I can, every lasting day of my life to make sure she’s safe.”

Reaching into the zipper pocket of his cargo shorts, he tugged out the signature shark tooth he usually had clipped around his neck, but this time there was a new piece attached. A silver ring on the chain weighed a little bit heavier than usual. JJ took apart the clasp and pulled the jewelry off before holding it out to John B.

“Sarah um… Sarah was with me, but I guess that’s obvious now. I didn’t know what the fuck princess cut meant, and the lady there went to the Kook academy and they used to be friends so I guess…”

JJ's voice floated away as John B stared at the ring in between his fingers. He’d seen this ring so many times in his life, and the realization of where made the tears fall. Holy shit.

John B crying caught JJ off guard and now he was panicking, “Dude, you good?”

“I made a call,” Sarah’s voice entered the conversation as John B turned to face her. She was teary herself, having eavesdropped a bit on the words shared. “Nicola said she remembered your dad from the shop.”

John B swallowed harshly and opened his arm to let Sarah tuck into his side. He stared at the object for a moment longer before holding it back toward JJ who was looking at him expectantly. “That was… that’s my mom’s ring. Our mom’s ring.”

JJ’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Dad had pawned it when he got in deep with the gold and… how did you?” John B sniffled and rubbed his nose as he looked down at the girl next to him.

“Oh come on,” Sarah laughed at their shock, but deep down she knew this meant a lot to John B and it would mean even more to you. “She’s my best friend. Did you really think I was going to let you go in there and pick out something as important as this when you didn’t even know what a cushion halo was?”

JJ crashed into the blonde girl a little harder than he intended, but Sarah welcomed it regardless. She hugged him back just as tightly, feeling his shoulders shake beneath her touch. She was just glad to make this happen for the two of you. Nobody deserved it more. 

JJ pulled back after a moment, giving her forehead a kiss before he was once again faced with his best friend and the lingering question. John B tackled him just as hard, the two boys clutching each other like a lifeline. Suddenly, they were kids on the playground again, defending each other when things hit a little too close to home. And shit, were you home to both of them.

“There is nobody…nobody, I would trust with her more than you,” John B sniffled when he leaned back to clasp JJ on the shoulder tightly, using the back of his hand to wipe the tears from his face. “She’s yours, JJ. Always has been.”

JJ let out a sob and embraced John B again. John B knew that deep down JJ never felt like he was good enough for you, but the two of you couldn’t have been more perfect for each other. 

And although John B felt like he was losing you, there’s nobody he’d rather lose you to than his best friend, JJ Maybank.

--

a/n: hiiiii our babies are getting engaged!!!!!

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[gremlingottoosilly]

A little cow girl hybrid with her owner farmer König

I raise the stakes!! Konig, who, as part of the contract that revolved around fighting a hybrid trafficking ring that sold demihumans as cattle, was sent to rescue some farm hybrid animals stuck in the breeding pan/inhuman farming conditions...but you, pretty rescued cow hybrid, isn't really good at living on your own after being rescued from a farm. You were either raised here and reached maturity in captivity - or you got captured so long ago, you don't even remember normal, human life. Konig can't just release you in the wild, you don't even have documents!! He knows it's fucked up, having a pretty cow hybrid in his house isn't so much different from the way you were treated at the farm, but...god, he just can't get his hands off you. He has a big property in the mountains so like it or not, you're turning into Austrian highland cow - and you like to roam around in the pasture while he is too busy on the firing range or at the house work. He doesn't really do nay farm work, he doesn't have time between the contracts - but he allows you to make a small garden, taking advice from a demihuman therapist that suggested you need some small activity to keep yourself occupied. Cow hybrids are generally light-headed and silly, so Konig knows he can't force you into doing harsher labor - although sometimes you like to cook and to wake him up with very loud cleaning sessions. But...of course, living with an adult, mature hybrid in your house is a tough challenge if you don't want to fuck said hybrid. Konig wants to fuck you, wanted you since the first time he had to bath you because you don't understand how the shower works and afraid of him just hosing you like people did at the farm - but he always forced himself to stop before he could actually force himself, always too awkward and nervous...even though he is obsessed with you, morals be fucked. And his morals do get fucked when you beg him to milk you. Pretty dumb thing, you don't understand that he won't help you for free - that once he is done drinking all the milk that summed up in your heavy, swollen tits, he will be forcing you on your back and make you moo as he bounces you on his cock. He doesn't enjoy quiet farm life as much as he thought he would, but he surely enjoys spending time with his newest pet...

[dropsnectar]

When a Fox is Bored...

M!Kitsune x gn!reader

NSFW

A Kitsune who recently inherited a new territory, of which your house is smack in the middle of. 

As an easily bored spirit, he finds the thought of pranking you hilarious. He starts out with small things, moving your cereal bowl in the morning, replacing dish washing detergent with dish soap. He laughs quietly to himself as he watches you search for what should have been obviously in front of you, eyebrows furrowed, and confusion fueling his quiet laughter. He watched you run around in horror, trying to scoops bubbles into water buckets. Something about your confusion and panic satisfied him. 

He made a habit of visiting you and making something go wrong. But after the fifth prank, something changed. You laughed at how your water bottle, once filled with water, was now orange juice. Your missing backpack, instead of being on the table, under your bed. You cleaned the place up, reducing clutter. You kept your bags close, and hummed to yourself as you searched about, peaceful. This picked at something in him. Your worried expression had been his after all. He upped the ante.

He messed with your washing machine. That prank took a while, since as a spirit of nature, tech was foreign to him. Filled with pride expecting your eyes to go big and your lips purse for him, all you did was roll your eyes and take your clothes and laundry detergent to the bathroom. You turned on a little play on your little black rock, and filled the tub with water soap and clothes. Then you got to work, stomping like you were pressing grapes for wine. Despite the distraction of the “phone”, your face was still crinkled in effort, sweat drifting down your brow. He liked this expression. Maybe this too was a prank well done.

At some point, you had started making double helpings for dinner. In the past, meals of ramen and grocery potatoes salad had turned into steaks, chicken and pasta. 

You would pour two glasses of wine and put out a plate and a glass on the old stump by the back door. Curious, the kitsune would eat up, soon enamored with your cooking.

About time! It was only right of you to give him offerings. You were in his territory after all. In the mornings you would collect the dishes, and the cycle would continue.

Of course, this didn't mean he would stop his favorite source of entertainment. Far from it. He'd replace your coffee maker with one of a differing model. He'd leave piles of fruit by the door, savoring your surprised reaction as you looked around, not noticing the small form he had taken behind the door. He learned your preferences, your schedule, even your sorrows as you poured over a hastily scrawled budget that just wouldn't add up the way it should. 

He had to admit sometimes his pranks grew even farther then he meant to. You had dressed up to the 9s for a much needed job interview, with a man whose soul was so gray he could see it through the phone. You had gotten in your old, rusty car, only for it to get hit by a huge black Denali, five minutes from your house.

Out stepped a gentle older man in a weathered cardigan. The old man listened to you cry, as you waved about a dead phone, and explained how you couldn't afford this. You had missed the job interview you so desperately needed.

 This was the part that bewildered the kitsune. He wasn't sure if it was his own magic or yours, but the older man offered you a job on the spot, twice the salary you were looking for. The old man's aura was a gentle green. This satisfied the kitsune. This man would take care of his favorite victim.

His heart filled with satisfaction at how you bounced and garbled out thank yous. He didn't fail to notice that dinner that night came with a whole tray of brownies. You made him cupcakes when you got the huge insurance check in the mail. 

After dinner, he was surveying you as you watched “Net-fix”, something about a mute woman rescuing a lake monster, when you turned the TV off and headed upstairs. 

This intrigued the kitsune, as you usually watched television for another hour before passing out. 

You took off your pants and crawled into bed. The room was quiet except for your breathy moans as you pleasured yourself, one hand working yourself up under your underwear.

The smell that filled the room was mouthwatering. And the way you mewled out made the kitsune feral. He was on you in a few minutes, transforming from his invisible form to his most majestic one. He leaned over you, eyes red and hungry, as he pinned your free hand over your head and licked his lips.

“Its you.” You whispered, voice light and merry. It was like it had been a long grey winter and the sun had finally decided to come out. It was an expression he had never collected from you and it made his heart heavy.

“I knew you were here. Thank you. For everything.”

He stared at you, now full of apprehension. But a peice of him was still so full of joy that you recognized him. That you saw him and wanted him with you now.

“You have been my playtoy. I have made your life difficult more times than I have lightened it.”

“You kept me on my toes” you laughed out, tone innocent. “But I know how to deal with boys who tug my pigtails. And you haven't tugged on them in a long time.” You reached your other hand forward and brought it to his cheek. It was a gentle gesture of affection, but it did not have the soothing effect you intended. 

Your hand smelled so full of your core it drove him insane, dick throbing and hard under his robes. He took your hand and brought it to his mouth, swallowing down any residue that had been left on your fingers. The face you made was adorable, how your eyes glowed and the ghost of your tongue peaked out from your lips. He was going to collect so many faces from you tonight, and they would all be his. YOU would be his.

He discarded his robes and your underwear with magic, a tidy pile on the chair next to the bed. Then, he was on you, mouth nibbling your neck, biting you collarbone, before licking at the marks he had made. He rutted his hips against you for relief as he claimed your mouth, your tongue swirling around his. Your hands grasped hard to his back, nails scratching. It was your way of claiming him too, of this he was sure, and it was just too damn cute.

He dragged himself around your entrance, laughing and saying he wouldn't enter you until you begged him for it. You pouted at him and huffed, but eventually gave in, asking him to fill you. He did so with one hard thrust causing you to cry out, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

He kept a quick pace. Your eyes were glazed, your core molten hot as he hit every little spot inside you that would bring you closer to release. You tried to hide it at first, hands covering your mouth but your eyes gave it away. He let you conceal yourself for all of five minutes before he had both your hands pinned above your head, his thrusts jutting at an unforgiving pace inside you. 

He was feral. THERE it was! That was the face he had wanted, the expression he had wanted to capture from you since the very beginning. Your panting, your eyes glazed over, mouth open in a silent plea, THAT'S what he wanted all along. And it was his! You were his now. The realization, the feeling of you, and the way you cried and clenched around him in release was what finally sent him over the edge. Against all odds you came together, riding out your ecstasy with sighing breaths. 

His mind was hazy with afterglow as he pulled you into his arms, large fluffy tails wrapping around your legs, arms, even one teasing at your face, a tickle. You laughed and kissed the fluff before turning over and kissing his nose, eyes bright. You were sated and happy. 

“Could we maybe, make a habit of this?”

He grinned at you. Every single feature of him was dripping with mischief when he replied.

“You think I'm satisfied with just this? There's so much more I have planned for you, you silly thing. Be prepared, got it?”

Part Two-ish

[obliviouskara]

Supergirl doesn’t huff. She doesn’t. She’s National City’s superhero, beloved and adorned. Has captivated the hearts of many, saving it tragedy after tragedy. Supergirl is indestructible, bullets bounce off of her, laser beams shoot out from her eyes. Her enemies tremble at the sight of her and yet here is she, huffing like a petulant child withheld her favorite candy all because Lena Luthor keeps ignoring her.

In Lena’s defense, she’s not ignoring ignoring her but she’s also like not giving her the time of day.

While all of National City’s — some would even argue including Metropolis, eyes are on her she can’t seem to capture a specific pair of exquisite emerald hues that belonged to a certain L-Corp CEO.

It doesn’t matter that she’s saved said tech genius multiple times now (not that she loves to dwell on the fact of just how many times she had to save her) but Supergirl always comes to her rescue. Always. Even more times than the media tabloids can count. So much so that there are rumors spreading, mostly from magazines wanting clickbait headlines. Headlines like how the resident superhero has been spotted carrying a certain CEO to safety way too many times.

People talk, tweet, whisper. Who wouldn’t? A Luthor and Super working together is a headline worthy to keep people talking. But no matter how hard Supergirl tries, nothing seems to be working. She can't catch her attention. At least not the kind of attention she secretly hopes to get out from her.

The CEO thanks Supergirl, as she always does. So polite yet begrudgingly reserved.

Supergirl earnestly tries to make sure to be her knight and shining amour and if from time to time she makes a show or flare about it, that’s her business. None of this garner any huge reaction from Lena though.

So, it makes her huff because she’s Supergirl. Although she would never admit it out loud, she does get a little thrill when people watch her in awe. She tries to hide the proud smirk when she successfully blows a house caught on fire with one breath. She doesn't even break a sweat.

If only Lena would look at her the same way.

But as fate might have it, the L-Corp CEO would simply give her a grateful smile and a practiced “thank you” and she’s off— goes on with her day as if she wasn’t just inches away from death.

Lena doesn’t bat an eye when the Kryptonian does her heroic stunts which some would argue is a bit over the top for someone who isn’t even of acquaintance to the CEO.

Supergirl’s touches are so soft, careful, reverent in such way when she rushes towards Lena’s safety like a scene straight out from a comic. This makes Sam, Lena’s friend and arguably only friend she allows to judge her to an extent—  raise a few eyebrows.

So, the National City’s superhero pouts.

Pouting like a six-year told being told to go to bed earlier than she would have wanted. This inevitably pushes her to find ways to impress the green-eyed CEO who watches her with the most blank expression.

She’d even once sent her a wink when she punches a particular large alien straight to oblivion while staring directly at the CEO. Lena's reaction? Nothing. Didn't even crack a smile. She seemed almost unimpressed. Borderline bored. The only thing she receives is a smack in the head from Alex telling her to “stop being inappropriate while wearing the suit”.

Thankfully, Kara doesn’t have pout for long because while Lena barely gives Supergirl the time of day, she gets a completely 180 when she’s Kara Danvers.

For some reason, Lena smiles wider - brighter whenever she’s around the shy, fidgety, clumsy reporter. A CATCO reporter that Lena seems to be head over heels with.

Lena doesn’t even shy away showing how much she enjoys Kara’s company. It should embarrass Kara how much Lena unabashedly favors her in more ways than one but she’d be lying if she doesn’t admit how much she loves spending time with the her. The undivided attention is just a cherry on top.

While Lena barely makes conversation with the resident superhero, she has lunch dates with Kara. Movie dates. She filled her office with flowers as a thank you for the article she published describing about the new acquisition and owner of Luthor Corp now turned L-Corp even though Kara shyly explained that she was simply doing her job, all while the Kyrptonin simply gets a “that’s lucky” for saving her from almost plummeting to her death.

Kara doesn’t miss the slight change of expression on Lena’s face when the Supergirl nervously explained how she found out Lena was in danger.

Was that jealousy? That’s ridiculous! Why would Lena even care that Kara and Supergirl are friends?

But Kara, oblivious Kara only seem to see herself worthy of Lena Luthor when Kara is her alter ego. She feels more confident when she’s Supergirl than she is as Kara. She’s not really sure why. Probably because she feels she has more to offer compared to her reporter persona. Kara is just so…Kara. Simple. Flimsy. Boring.

Lena doesn’t deserve simple. How could someone be as amazing as Lena Luthor possibly find shy, nervous, boring reporter Kara Danvers interesting? She’s just being kind. That’s just how Lena is. Even though Lena literally bought a million-dollar company she knew absolutely nothing about all for Kara. An investment that left Sam completely speechless and Jess losing sleep for a week.

Kara convinces herself that Lena is just a good person and that’s one of the many things she loves about her best friend.

But it continues, and Lena falls for Kara even more. She falls for her perfect smiles the way her face lights up with each new random fact her brain comes up with, her silly jokes that Alex points out are not even that funny but Lena laughs the loudest if only to bring another smile on Kara’s face, their genuine conversations that has Lena opening parts of herself that she has never told anyone about maybe other than Sam and super platonic cuddling.

This makes Kara as Supergirl bolder. She becomes confident in expressing how she feels for Lena while she wears a cape. Lena isn’t the only one falling. So is Kara. Hard.

She falls for Lena’s genuine kindness; how smart Lena is and yet somehow, it’s like she doesn’t know how amazing she is. She falls for the CEO even when she’s wearing the suit that the lines between her and her superhero alter ego almost blurs. Almost.

So, she openly flirts without shame. For someone who’s supposed to be professional in her line of duty, she seems to make it a hobby to send a overtly flirty smile or wink towards the CEO. Supergirl lifts 10-ton trucks in front of Lena, intentionally flexing her biceps basically just to show off. To get the slightest reaction out of Lena but all she gets is a tight lip smile before Lena shoots Kara a text to have lunch.

And while Lena spends more time publicly with Kara, they barely get swarmed with paparazzi. I mean, who would find Lena having lunch with an unknown reporter interesting.? That’s not news worthy.

It’s not even gossip worthy.

But as soon as she’s standing close with Supergirl, their photos are front and center of every magazine cover.

It becomes a headline in a span of minutes, twitter loses their mind. They earn a little fan club even and Lena tries her best to ignore it.

Really, she does but it bothers her a little. Not for the reasons people might think. She finds every headline of her and Supergirl “dating” irritating if not annoying because that’s not exactly the blonde she wants her name to be associated with.

Sure, she and Kara are getting closer - Lena can feel it. A connection more than friends tethering their bond, an unspoken knowledge neither one of them brave enough to admit. Yet.

She ponders. Hopefully.

The nonstop rumors about her and Supergirl are starting to get on her nerves since last thing she wants is for Kara to get the wrong impression.

Lena considers what she and Kara have fragile. Delicate. Like the slightest turmoil would send it crashing. She can’t have that. Not if she can help it. She won’t allow rumors about her and a hero with an awful god complex ruin it.

She worries what Kara might think of her connection with Supergirl because there isn’t. It’s purely transactional. Business at best. They’re barely even friends.

She’s given the superhero the coldest shoulder she can whenever they’re in close proximity. It's probably not fair but she makes sure to keep a respectable distance between them. It doesn’t help however that the superhero seems to enjoy being close to her.

Hovering almost. It infuriates her even more.

So, she tries to hide it. It’s not the alien’s fault Lena has fallen for the reporter. It’s not Supergirl’s fault she has issues and is overprotective of her relationship with Kara.

Lena isn’t a fan however of the fact that Supergirl somehow is never shy to leave a comment of what she thinks about Lena. While Lena doubles her effort to make sure she doesn’t mention Supergirl in any of her interviews unless necessary, Supergirl is the complete total opposite.

She talks about Lena. A lot. Her projects, her advocacy (How did she even have the time to remember that? Lena’s only mentioned it once) and what she does for the community. It’s so hard to hate the superhero when she’s nothing but nice and supportive towards the scientist.

Almost like this unwavering and undying devotion which to her is a little dramatic since she doesn’t even think highly of herself at times.

Lena thinks, “Thanks but like, can you please just shut up about me for one second?!”

Apparently, Supergirl does and she praises Lena every chance she gets, every time a microphone is shoved towards her asking what she thinks of the L-Corp CEO.

Lena knows the media is doing it on purpose too and it’s fueling whatever rumors that are going on about them. And while she appreciates Superhero’s opinions and generous words, there is only one opinion that she really cares about.

She was mortified when she saw Kara staring at a photo of her with Supergirl, arms wrapped protective around her in one of the magazines on her desk (she’s sure Sam did it on purpose, she doesn’t remember ever getting a copy for herself), Lena immediately snatches it out from Kara’s hands, shoves it inside her drawer and starts rambling defensively preparing for a full-blown explanation to whatever possible questions were running through the reporter’s mind. Noticeably, Kara barely says a word.

Even as Kara stays silent, Lena still feels as though she needs to explain herself. She tells Kara nothing is going on, and she doesn’t see Supergirl that way at all. She shouldn’t be defensive when Kara has not made as much fuss about it but she can’t help it. Sweet, nice, understanding Kara Danvers just smiles and says “I don’t know. You two look good together”.

Now it’s Lena that freezes. She stands there, gob smacked and absolutely lost because what was that supposed to mean?

Does it bother her that Kara almost seemed okay with it? Does Kara think something is actually going on or she doesn’t think much of it? Did Lena expect a little bit jealousy? That’s insane and frankly quiet immature for her to hope to get a rise out of Kara. But Kara simply shrugged and started devouring their shared lunch.

It’s fine. Lena’s fine. She doesn’t care that Kara doesn’t care. This is good. This should be good. It doesn’t bother her at all. Or so she tells herself. Until it does.

Lena tried to casually prob the topic again. Tries her best to not sound too desperate. She thinks of the easiest way to brooch the topic without being conspicuous. With perfect timing, the TV flashes an image and it showed a picture of Supergirl clutching on Lena protectively from a blast, another poor attempt on her life.

Whether it’s because of Supergirl’s overprotectiveness or just her natural aura which was how the photo was taken, it came out beautiful. Stunning. Almost breath taking that you would think it was staged.

On top of that it’s also intimate. The way the superhero is holding her. Lena barely remembers being held by the super. She was too busy trying to not have a panic attack after just seconds away from an exploding bomb.

Lena held her breathe. Any minute now.

Lena had been glancing at Kara’s direction since the news started, waiting. The news anchor mentioned what everyone else was already thinking. How sweet they both look, that somehow, they manage to turn what supposedly should have been an image that would portray fear and anxiousness into something almost heartwarming. She waits, and waits until she breaks the silence herself.

“I can’t believe people actually assume I’m dating Supergirl.” Lena scoffs, forces a laugh as tries to be casual, as if her heart isn’t about to beat out of her chest wondering what Kara might be thinking.

“I wouldn’t blame them. You two make a great couple.”

Before Lena could even respond, Kara adds, “I mean, you and Supergirl? It’s Supergirl, Lena. Everyone wants her. Half of National City probably has a crush on her. I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.” Kara finishes off, with a fond roll in her eyes as if to tell her it’s not a big deal. That it’s normal.  She takes the remote out from Lena’s hands while she uses the other to shove popcorn in her mouth. Lena swears she could almost see a smirk forming Kara’s lips. As if she was smug about something.

But it wouldn’t make any sense. Also, why was Kara so fine with it? And why was Lena so annoyed that it didn’t bother Kara? They’ve been going out on dates but nothing about it were friendly. At least not to Lena. Was she reading things wrong? She knows she’s not.

Lena’s too smart to be reading into things. She has three PHDs for crying out loud. She can explain quantum physics in her sleep but this? Lena has never been so sure and so confused about something in her life.

It’s possible to assume what she has with Kara is simply friendship but it’s hard to deny that there’s something more. She feels it. In the way she lights up when Kara is around, when a single text from the reporter brightens up even her darkest days.Good morning and Good Night shouldn’t be causing butterflies to fly rampant in your stomach or make your chest ache with so much joy. But it does. It does for Kara.

“Not me though,” Lena finally says after finding her voice. She looks away, afraid that blue eyes can see beyond the facade she’s trying to keep up. “I don’t… I don’t see her that way.”

Kara pauses mid-way from ingulfing her popcorn. Lips purse as if she’s thinking hard about something. “Really?” Kara doesn’t even hide the surprise in her voice as she slowly turns to face Lena, popcorn temporarily forgotten. “Why not?” Why was Kara whining about this? Lena should be whining, not her.

“What do you mean, ‘Why not?’”

“I mean.. Why don’t you.. But she’s so.. — it’s Supergirl, Lena! She’s like the strongest woman ever! She’s a superhero and she’s so..” Kara blushes, as if trying to find the right words but also somehow struggling to let them out at the same time. This confuses Lena even more.

“She should totally be your type! She’s like everyone’s type!” Kara throws her hands trying to make a point.

Lena just stares at her. Unimpressed. Scrunching her nose, she turns her attention back to the screen changing the channel. “Well, she’s not.” The CEO deadpans and that was the end of it.

Lena tries to forget about that disaster of a movie night. She really does. She wills herself not to think about it. She tries pushing it at the back on her mind for two days until Lena reaches her limit.

She’s furious. How dare Kara Danvers just — push her away like she’s nothing. ‘She should be your type’ plays on her head nonstop almost mocking her and it makes her want to scream! How could someone be this —ugh.

That’s how Sam finds her. Pacing around her office like a mad woman on a mission rage written all over her face. She looks like a ticking time bomb just seconds from exploding.

“Looks like someone woke up at the wrong side of the bed this morning,” cautiously Sam approaches, like walking close to a wild animal. She makes sure to leave a respectable distance just in case.

“Unbelievable!” Lena starts her rant, her hands balled into a fist. “I can’t believe out of all people she thinks Supergirl is perfect for me.”

“I mean she’s not—”

“Samantha Arias, I swear to god not today.”

Sam immediately lifts both hands in surrender, taking another step back.

“Here I was worried sick of what she might think about these stupid rumors only to find out she obviously doesn’t care! The nerve! She thinks supergirl should totally be my type?! Supergirl?!”

Sam opens her mouth attempting to ask a question or two but seeing as Lena is close to throwing the nearest thing she could grab against the wall, she decided against it.

But the thing is, Kara Danvers does care. She probably cares more than anyone. Kara Danvers cares about Lena Luthor so much that it bothered the Kryptonian that Supergirl isn’t Lena’s type hence why she’s huffing again.

However, another incident, another threat to Lena’s life changes everything.

It was such a close call that it leaves them both breathless and the girl of steel shaking as she holds Lena close. Blue eyes scan each and every corner of Lena’s face making sure she’s okay. Making sure she’s real and nothing bad has happened. She made it on time. She's safe. Normally, Lena wouldn’t allow this much intimacy between them but after this attack she needed something to ground her a little.

“You’re okay. Thank Rao, you’re okay.” Lena doesn’t move, her feet appear to be rooted both by shock and fear while Supergirl continues to examine every inch of her face. “I was so scared I was going to lose you,” Supergirl whispers and Lena could hear the tremble in her voice.

Everything happened so fast that Lena was having trouble trying to process everything. The attempt on her life, how she was merrily inches away from death. She remembers the exact moment she came to terms with it. This was it. Finally, from all the attempts on her life that this was the one to take her out. She should have known. An exploding bomb in her car was a classic. Lena would have been okay with it if not for a specific blonde reporter that she wished was with her at that very moment. She can’t die. Not yet. Not until she tells Kara how she feels. They at least deserve that.

However, the reality is Kara's not here. Supergirl is. Supergirl is the one holding her. Holding her the way she would have hoped a certain blonde reporting was holding her.

Lena had to close her eyes to stop looking back at blue eyes staring at her with so much concern. This can’t happen. She’s not — she can’t be. She loves Kara Danvers. She might be pissed at her but she knows deep down she’s in love with the nervous fidgety reporter and not to this impenetrable woman right in front of her.

Her head shakes as Supergirl’s tighten her grip as if too afraid Lena might slip away. During these moments when Lena allows herself to feel, she genuinely does not know what to make of it. Why does Supergirl care about her so much. No one is watching. There are no cameras recording their interaction.

She assumes it was all for publicly but this, it feels different. When it’s just them and no one else. Supergirl stands close to her, completely shaken and unbalanced. There is genuine fear in her eyes at the thought of being too late or not being fast enough. Lena has never felt safer.

As she starts to pulls away, green eyes meet glassy blue. She convinces herself it’s the dust and not the resident superhero actually in tears because that would mean…

“I thought I was going to lose you.”

“But why do you—”

Before Lena could respond, she feels a pair of lips against her own and everything around them seems to disappear.

It barely registers to her what is happening, completely getting lost on the pair of lips against her own. Lena feels a shiver run down her spine at the way Supergirl is kissing her, making her grab unto the superhero’s shoulder.

The action was meant to push the super away because this can’t be happening. These were not the pair of lips she wanted on her but somehow, it feels right. Like this was how things were suppose to be. She feels her heart raising as Supergirl deepens the kiss, feeling herself getting pushed slightly until the back of her knee hits against a hard surface but it barely registers to Lena because Supergirl is kissing her in a way she's never been kissed before.

Finally, Lena finds the strength to pull away the need to breathe outweighing her body’s desire. And for the first time, she wills herself to stare at the pair of brilliant oceanic eyes that she’s been trying so hard to ignore. She lets her eyes track down every detail of the superheroes face, trying to figuring out a puzzle with missing pieces. Blue eyes stare back at her with a mix of desire and unbridled affection as Lena continues to gasp for air and stares.

Something about Supergirl’s smile, the strong line of her jaw, the way her soft lips parts as she patiently waits for Lena to say something seems so familiar. Like an answer at the tip of her tongue but can’t seem to get it out. It’s frustrating as it is captivating and all Lena wants to do is drink it in, see past the mask that this superhero constantly wears and be able to see what all this means.

Being this close, Lena can see the moment Supergirl lips rise to form a smile. A smile Lena is all too familiar with now that she’s finally inches away from the superhero. It’s all too familiar now and finally, it dawns to her.

A tiny gasp leaves her lips at the realization, emerald eyes never leaving blue as Supergirl’s smile brightens. As if she too understands that Lena has finally figured it out. With trembling delicate fingers, Lena reaches up and cup Supergirl’s cheeks and instinctively, Supergirl leans against her touch. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Lena feels a gentle squeeze where Supergirl is holding her and she lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding.

“Kara?” Lena whispers, barely hiding the tremble of her own voice and there it was. The smile of the woman she’s been not so secretly in love with plastered on National City hero’s face.

“I am madly in love with you, Miss Lena Luthor.”

[hoe4hotchner]

New Years Eve | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 1k | CW: Fluff, fireworks, new years eve, first kiss.

The soft sounds of Ella Fitzgerald's voice played in the background as it filled Rossi’s living room. The BAU team had gathered to celebrate New Year’s Eve, though the invitation had invited them to party in style the emphasis of the party leaned more toward cozy than extravagant. Fairy lights twinkled across the walls, and a fire crackled in the hearth, making the winter night outside feel miles away.

You stood in the kitchen, carefully pouring champagne into a cluster of fluted glasses, mindful of the bubbling foam. The air was scented with cinnamon and cloves from the mulled wine simmering on the stove while the faint sound of laughter spilled in from the living room. Hotch leaned casually against the counter beside you, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up in a rare sign of relaxation. His eyes flicked toward you every few moments, the corners crinkling when you glanced back at him.

“You don’t have to do all of this,” he said, his voice low and warm, almost lost beneath the clink of glasses.

“Someone’s got to keep things running smoothly,” you teased, placing the bottle on the counter before reaching for another glass in the cabinet overhead. “Besides, you’re not exactly rushing to help.”

He chuckled softly and stepped closer. His hand brushed against yours as he picked up one of the glasses, sending a flicker of warmth up your arm. “I think you’ve got it under control. But for the record, I’m ready to step in if things get out of hand.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Agent Hotchner.”

The gentle banter was interrupted as Jack burst into the kitchen, his cheeks pink from running around. He skidded to a stop, his excitement making him bounce on his toes. “Dad! We're playing charades, and Uncle Derek’s losing so bad!”

Hotch laughed, ruffling Jack’s hair with an affection that softened his entire face. “Is that so? Maybe I should go rescue him before he kicks down a door.”

You grinned, watching as Jack tugged his dad toward the living room. You followed with the tray of glasses. Before settling down with the others on the couches, you paused to grab a spare blanket from the basket near the fireplace in case the night’s chill crept inside. The living room was alive, and the team was in various stages of jokes and games. Morgan was mid-performance, flapping his arms in what you guessed was supposed to be a bird, while Reid shouted increasingly wild guesses from his spot near the fireplace.

“A chicken? No, a swan! Wait, a penguin?”

Emily doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach. “Why would he be a penguin?”

“You don’t know! Penguins are very expressive creatures,” Reid retorted, crossing his arms defensively, which only made Emily laugh harder.

Rossi raised his glass from his spot on the couch, smirking. “This might be the best entertainment I’ve had all year.”

“Careful, Dave,” you said. “We still have two hours left. Plenty of time for things to get even better.”

JJ stood, her phone in hand, and called out, “Alright, everyone, time for pictures! Before we get too… uh, spirited.” Her eyes flicked meaningfully toward the half-empty bottle of wine in Garcia’s hand.

Garcia gasped in mock offense, clutching the bottle to her chest. “Excuse me, Jennifer, I am always perfectly composed.”

“Sure you are,” Emily quipped, pulling her up from the couch.

The group crowded together in front of the fireplace, where Rossi insisted on setting the timer so everyone could be in the shot. Hotch’s hand found the small of your back as you squeezed into the frame, his touch steady and warm through the fabric of your sweater. Without thinking, you leaned into him, the moment so natural it didn’t even register until the flash went off.

The rest of the night flowed like the champagne. Stories were shared, laughter echoed through the house, and Jack eventually fell asleep in a pile of blankets, his head resting on your lap. Hotch sat beside you, his posture relaxed as he nursed a glass of wine. His hand brushed against yours again, his fingers warm as they tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The intimacy didn’t go unnoticed; Emily sent you a look from across the room, silently telling you that an interrogation would be scheduled in the new year, but she said nothing.

As the clock approached midnight, Rossi produced a box of sparklers, and the group bundled up to step outside. The cold air bit at your cheeks and made your breath visible in soft puffs, but the sight of the glittering sky, clear and dotted with stars, was worth it. Jack woke up just in time to light a sparkler with his dad.

When the countdown began, you found yourself standing next to Hotch again, your breath mingling in the crisp night air.

“Ten… nine… eight…”

The voices grew louder, for a moment, you thought about stepping away, about playing it safe. But when the clock struck midnight, Hotch turned to you.

“Happy New Year,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the cheers of the others.

“Happy New Year,” you replied, the words barely leaving your lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he kissed you. It didn't take long for the sparks of fireworks to ignite the sky, setting the background for your first kiss.

When you pulled back, your cheeks felt warm despite the cold, you noticed the team trying (and failing) to act nonchalant. Morgan’s grin was wide enough to split his face, and Garcia looked ready to combust with glee.

“Alright, everyone inside,” Rossi called, clapping his hands together. “Let’s toast to the new year properly.”

As you followed the others back into the house, Hotch’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that felt as natural as breathing. And as you raised your glass to toast with the team, surrounded by laughter and love, you couldn’t imagine a better way to start the year.

[peppermintquartz]

Tommy must have been staring at his phone for far too long, because Donato pounces on him (metaphorically) in the dining area.

"I go on leave for a week and you flew a chopper into a hurricane?" Donato exclaims, punching him in the bicep.

"Ow," Tommy says out of habit. "The hurricane was mostly over by then, actually."

Donato huffs. "The things you get up to without my calming influence, Kinard."

Putting down his phone, Tommy levels a stare at his friend. "Last I remember, you're the one who scaled a cliff sans harness to get to a scared kid."

"And got chewed up for it after," Donato says brightly, holding up a finger. Her voice drops. "Seriously though. What's the brass gonna do about you guys?"

"Hopefully? Nothing. There's enough positive publicity that's got Simpson off our asses, so I'm hoping it'll blow over."

"Melton says you might be grounded for some time."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Tommy sighs and leans back in his chair. "As long as I'm not fired, I'm ok with the consequences." His lips twitch into a smile. "You'd have liked it though. I got to land the bird on an upside down cruise ship, in a storm."

"Oh fuck you, Kinard, you lucky bastard." Donato grins, her blonde bob bouncing as she jumps to her feet. "You're buying me lunch, by the way."

"Why?"

"Because you love me," she says, laughing as she jogs off to bother someone else. "Mentaiko bowl, you know the one!"

Tommy shakes his head fondly. He didn't know what about him had attracted Lucy Donato's friendship, but her effervescent energy always brightens up his day.

Which still doesn't help with Tommy's dilemma, which is one leggy firefighter named Evan Buckley. His sunny demeanor and inexplicably funny chatter in the middle of a helicopter heist and dangerous rescue had helped Tommy stay focused on the task. Afterwards, on the return journey, Tommy, Howie, Hen, Athena and Bobby caught up with one another, and both Eddie and Evan had been there, joining in the conversation whenever they can.

Tommy hopes no one actually saw him staring at Evan most of the time. It helped that they had sat opposite each other, and Evan's eyes had been so, so blue, the color of a clear summer sky, and his smile radiant. Of course it was easy to get numbers from everyone then - Tommy needed to update the ones for Athena and Bobby, and he added Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley into his contacts.

Eddie texted him the very next day asking if Tommy's up for a quick visit to the Diaz household, because his son Christopher wanted to meet the pilot who helped save Captain Nash, and Tommy decided that, heck it, he could do with some new friends, and went.

And for the next hour or so, he listened to Christopher wax rhapsodic about "my friend Buck", how brave and funny and clever Buck is, how selfless, how he rescued Chris during the tsunami, how good a friend he was, how he loved taking Chris to the zoo and built him a structure so that Chris could skateboard, how the lightning strike gave him insane math powers, how good a cook he is...

And the photos Chris shared about Evan all show Evan grinning happily, as if there's nothing else he'd rather be doing than be with Christopher and Eddie.

For a moment Tommy had thought that Eddie and Evan were an item, until Marisol showed up at the house and kissed Eddie in the kitchen. The relief Tommy felt is disproportionate to how much he knew Evan. Which is ridiculous - Evan might have a partner already, or might not be into men, and Evan hasn't ever texted Tommy yet. Eddie's already sending dozens of messages about the upcoming reunification fight.

The phone in Tommy's hands suddenly rings and he almost drops it in shock. Cursing, he quickly swipes up to answer. "Hello, this is Kinard."

"Oh, uh, hi Tommy. It's Evan. Buckley. E-Evan Buckley."

Tommy swallows his surprise even as a huge smile blossoms on his face. "Hey. I wasn't, um, expecting you to call."

Evan chuckles. Is that nervousness in his voice? "Listen. Um, I was, uh, I was wondering if you gave, like, tours? Of the station?"

Tommy's heart skips a beat. Does this mean Evan wants to transfer to Harbor? Then he realizes it's been too long since the question so he hastily says, "Yeah, yes. I could show you around, if you want."

It's a good thing he's not hooked up to anything measuring his pulse. Tommy thinks his heart may jump out of his chest.

On the other end of the line, Evan says, "Great! Uh, you-you have my number so. Text me possible dates and times to go over?"

"Sure," Tommy replies, his mouth dry. He thinks about fawn-colored hair, blue eyes, red lips. He swallows again. "See you soon, Evan."

"See you soon, Tommy."

[boinday]

The God and The Devil

Just a little folk-gothic about loneliness, the countryside, and keeping a cat. For the spooky season! 1.8k words ^_^ (Copyright Bóín Day 2024)

---------

There's a fire in the garden. Again.

I step outside, careful to close the sliding glass door behind me so Cock Robin can't get out. He prowls the length of the glass with performative indifference, pretending he only follows so far to rub his whiskers against the doorframe. Pretending not to notice the orange flames spitting up into the blue-dark twilight sky.

I take the watering can, already full, from the patio and walk to the center of the garden, where the effigy burns. It is bigger than the last one. About as tall as my knee. I douse it before it catches in the dry summer grass.

Our cottage is in the middle of County Leitrim. In that typical part of Leitrim where nothing really is. I bought it because I could afford it, derelict and rotting as it was, surrounded by a sea of disused fields, twenty kilometers from the nearest shop. It still cost more than my parents' first home; a restored Victorian townhouse purchased in the eighties. I do what I can with the cottage. Funnel all my earnings into making it habitable. Close off the rooms that drive me into despair. I think I got Cock Robin because I was lonely. Or because he was lonely. I can't remember which.

I remember I found him quite endearing at the shelter, though. He is a peculiar shade of brown for a cat – almost chocolatey – with a striking ginger breast by contrast. His eyes are yellow, and suspicious. He's large and fat, and maligned by a snaggletooth that gives him a permanent sneer. Despite his unfortunate face, he is docile, cuddly, and a formidable companion. I don't blame him completely for what's happened, though he must think I do. Why else would he be confined to the house, he thinks. Why else would his dear mother jail him.

Cock Robin, for all his lazy mornings and babyish ways, is a talented and voracious hunter. I never exactly approved of him catching mice, but I suppose I tacitly endorsed it by allowing him outside, into the fields where he was undoubtedly the apex predator. At first I would only find pieces of the mice: a half body, a dismembered foot, an internal organ licked clean of blood.

But as Cock Robin acclimatised to the good life of being a kept cat, and gradually grew rounder from tinned tuna and cold cuts of chicken, he must have grown bored with the taste of mice. Because more and more often, he would bring them home alive.

He would bring them home alive, and with them stunned and confused between his careful teeth, he would howl for my attention. Once I would rise from whatever task I was at, he would wait for me to approach, present his quarry, and kill it in front of me. People say this is a cat's way of teaching hapless humans how to hunt, and perhaps they are right. But from the way Cock Robin would proudly deposit the poor creature on the step, whole but for the killing wounds, and bounce along to the cupboard where he knows I keep his treats, I think this ritual is more akin to a crude, kitty capitalism.

'I have rendered you the service for which our two species coexist,' Cock Robin says with his closed eyes and loud purr. 'Now I shall collect my fee.'

I don't like to watch things die. Even spiders, which I hate, I can't bring myself to kill. Even indoor plants, which are a chore to keep, I endeavour to save from my own habitual neglect. And now even mice, already trapped in the jaws of death, I am compelled by my conscience to rescue. Cock Robin objects to my charity, but he is stupid enough to trust my approach whenever he has some poor living thing in his maw, and once I am close enough, I grab him. Sometimes he drops them instinctively when he hears my stern demands, and sometimes I must pry his mouth open, but he always gives up without much fight.

The difficulty then is re-catching the mouse. I keep gardening gloves by the sliding door for this task, now. If they are sufficiently traumatized, I can simply scoop them up, walk to one of the neighbouring fields, and gently release them into the long grass. If they are lucid, though, they jump away; run, climb, scramble for their life. Those times are harder – especially if Cock Robin is still in the room. But I always catch them. Once they're out of his teeth, I find a way to cup them, grab them, cradle them. Out they go to the fields. Alive to survive another day.

I must have caught at least a dozen mice when the first gift appeared. I didn't know it was a gift then, of course. It was four raspberries, piled together on the doormat. I'm sure I thought it was odd at the time, but I simply picked them up and set them on a fence-post for the birds.

A few days later there were twenty raspberries. A whole punnet's worth. I certainly thought that was odd, and it ignited some paranoia in me. There are no other houses in sight of my cottage, only fields. Not even cattle graze there, so there is little cause for anyone to come out as far as my place on the quiet country road. I fretted about axe wielding maniacs, countryside bandits, the sort of nightmarish characters you might hear about on a True Crime podcast. Of course, as far as threats go, raspberries are a tame and obscure one. Hardly worth calling the Gards over. I think I mentioned it to some friends, and they laughed like I was crazy. I think I laughed too. I didn't want to be crazy.

The raspberries continued to appear for weeks, sometimes with a whole apple rolled into the mix, sometimes ornately arranged among picked daisies and buttercups. I tried to ignore them. Hoped if they rotted on the step, that would send a message. But the damaged, old raspberries were removed in the night, and replenished with fresh ones by morning.

At a certain point, I decided it was best to just wait up. I drank three cups of coffee and, with heart pounding and carving knife in hand, sat in the perfect dark of my kitchen, and waited.

It was just before dawn when I saw them. I'd imagined every manner of strange or dangerous person, - I'd spent the night staring at the middle of the glass door, the height you would expect a person to stand - and so I almost missed them. The tiny, moving bumps of darkness scuttling along the ground towards the door. It looked like the patio stones had come to life, and were rippling towards the cottage in little waves.

I stood and approached. Quite a stupid thing to do, in retrospect, but I did it anyway. I could see them in their droves: hundreds of mice removing the old, imperfect fruit and rolling in the new. Some of them carried the flowers in teams of two or three. I crouched slowly by the glass door, enraptured by their industrious energy. By the sophistication of the endeavour.

One of them must have noticed me, and the noticing spread, because almost instantly the bustling and bumbling little bodies went still. I went still as well. It was relatively dark out, the sky just lightening to a gloomy blue, but I could tell they were looking at me. Then, in another wave of collective movement, their bodies stretched upward – stretched towards the heavens, tiny front paws raised above their mousey heads – and then fell down again. Prostrating themselves on the ground.

I watched the motion repeat several times, paws stretching skyward, then falling back down, before I realised I was watching some strange, cultish worship. They were bowing to me. They were bowing to me.

I ran away, as any rational person would. I closed myself into my bedroom with Cock Robin, who was sleeping none the wiser. And I thought about how truly impossible it is to keep a mouse out of your home, if the mouse has a mind to get in.

It was the following week that Cock Robin was attacked. He came in from the fields, mewling in a pitiful manner I'd never heard from him before. There was a piece of wood lodged in his right eye, about as big as a toothpick. I rushed him to the vet. They couldn't save the eye. An unfortunate accident, they supposed. A mishap while Cock Robin was climbing through a hedge. We agreed he ought to be an indoor cat from then on.

Now they've taken a liking to effigies.

I kick through the smoldering remains of this latest one. Their understanding of human proportions has certainly improved. I see they've stitched leaves together with plant fiber and bug silk to simulate clothing. I wonder how they learned to light the wood. I wonder if this is what we looked like, too, when man discovered fire.

I look up the length of the garden to my rotten little cottage. Cock Robin is sitting politely behind the glass door, watching me through his surviving eye, tail ticking away in simmering upset. He wants to be out here, I know. He wants to exercise his divine wrath.

I wonder, as well, how they make sense of us. It seems impossible to me, that they cannot know how dearly I love Cock Robin. How I infinitely prefer him to any little mouse, no matter what mercy my conscience mandates. How he sleeps beside me, inside the cottage that is so alien and fortified compared to the world of empty fields around it. I suppose it is a contradiction inherent, that they should give me tribute while reviling the cat I openly adore.

I suppose that even God adored Lucifer, once.

I stomp out the last of the embers and wriggle my phone out of my pocket. I've been photographing these things, for posterity – not that anyone would believe them. It would be written off as some natural phenomenon, or AI fakery, or perhaps they'd simply say I'm lying. I photograph it anyway.

Trudging back towards my cottage, I turn on the phone's flashlight. This is a newly formed habit. I hold the light above my head and sweep it over the neighbouring field, in an arc. Tiny pinpricks of light glow back at me. An ocean of beady eyes, watching in the darkness.

I shout at them to go away, please. I say that I have nothing for them, and thank them for their worship but I'd really rather they just move on. There's no response. There never is. They cannot understand my prayers. I am too huge and powerful to be understood. But still, I pray.

[ellatoone7]

❄︎ Night off ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

Tía Mapí and Ingrid to the rescue

When Mapí and Ingrid suggested a sleepover, you thought that it meant you and Alexia would be staying over too but they insisted that you and Alexia get some much-needed alone time. Alexia didn’t even hesitate to accept as she thought of all the things, she could finally do to you in an empty house. The walls haven’t heard her name being screamed in a while and she doesn’t want them to get used to that.

Alexia had gotten a few new things recently as a gift for herself that she has desperately wanted to use on you, but she didn’t just miss making love to you, she missed spending quality time with just you. A phone call was made, and she now had a reservation at your favourite restaurant. Emilia had been bouncing off the walls as soon as she found out she got to spend some time with her friends Sofia and Carlos. 

“You have your toothbrush?” Valentina nodded as she swung of her Mami’s arm. “I go to sleepover with Carl!” Alexia chuckled as she swung her up and caught her with ease tickling her belly as she squirmed in her arms. Emilia shuffled out of her room with her Barcelona backpack wrapped around her back. “Vamos!” She shouted as she legged it for the door, she was yanked back by her bag as Alexia turned her around. “Todavía tenemos tres horas hasta que tengamos que irnos Emilia.” The little blonde groaned loudly as she slumped on the ground, “I will wait.” Alexia stared down in amusement as she ruffled her hair.

Isabella was excited too, she loved Ingrid and because she was the oldest, she got to stay up later than the rest and watch a movie with her Tia’s. “Mama where is my charger for my iPad.” You held it over your shoulder as you were cooking, “Gracias.” Isabella left a kiss to your cheek before running off to do God know what. 

“Mm, smells good mi amor.” Alexia sigh as she walks in. Val is hanging onto her back as her little arms slightly choke her mother. Strong arms encircled your waist as she pressed her sturdy body against yours. Val giggled as she watched her mamí kiss your cheek, you giggled too before turning in your wife’s embrace to be greeted with two near identical smiles. 

Val was the absolute perfect mix of the two of you, she had your blonde hair and Alexia’s hazel eyes and smile. As she grew into her personality it was clear that she picked up aspects of both you and your wife which only further delighted the both of you. Whereas Emilia was a carbon copy of you and Isabella was the carbon copy of Alexia.

“How are the two cutest girls standing in my kitchen right now?” You cooed as you pinched both of their cheeks and like mother and daughter a bright blush graced both of their tanned freckly faces. “Don’t let Meels and Bella here you bebita.” Alexia whispered as she playfully bounced the little girl on her back, “Debemos ser los favoritos de mamá. ¿No crees princesa?” Val placed her finger over her Mami’s lips as she giggled loudly. You couldn’t resist to leave a kiss to her chubby cheek as she patted her Mami’s shoulder in sympathy. Alexia was pouting from the lack of affection before you too took pity on her a pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

Val frowned, “Kiss?” You cocked your head in curiosity, chancing a glance at your wife who mirrored your expression. “Why Mami didn’t get her special kiss?” The little girl babbled as she stared at her two parents, “Special kiss?” Alexia asked as she tried to figure out what her little girl was trying to tell her. “Sí, Emilia says Mami gets special kisses on the lips otherwise she will die.” Val’s eyes widened as she came to her own realisation, “No! Mami die? Quick Mama!” 

You were absolutely blindsided at the number of emotions that your daughter just expressed but she was on the verge of a meltdown and your wife was trying to hide her laugh. Before it got out of hand you quickly partook in your favourite activity and left a sweet kiss against your wife’s familiar lips. Alexia, as always, looked happily dazed as she chased your lips. You hold her in place by her chin as you turn to smile at your now very smiley daughter, ‘Bien?” Val nodded as she rested her chin against her shoulder. “Mami won’t die if she doesn’t get her special kiss, she’ll just get upset.” Val nods in understanding but you can tell it went through one ear and straight out the other. 

True to your words, Alexia was pouting heavily as she tried to push her lips towards you. You give in and kiss her until she’s satisfied, Val still has a happy smile stretching her little face once again identical to her mothers who is still sporting her cheeky grin. “Vale, stop distracting me and go get into trouble somewhere else.’ You laugh gently as they send each other sneaky smirks and with one last kiss for both of them which were happily reciprocated, and they scampered off. 

After you had rounded your family for lunch and watched each of them inhale their pasta, another thing they got from their hound of a mother and ask for seconds immediately you were finally in the car. Alexia was trying to wipe some sauce of Emilia’s face much to her disgruntlement, “Vamos, just one more wipe prometto.” Emilia huffs but let’s her quickly clean her face as she pushes her hand off. You on the other hand struggled with getting a squirmy Valentina into her seat so you can fasten her seatbelt. 

Finally, after a swift kick to the jaw and a wrestle to tie her seatbelt, you were on the road. Alexia’s hand was waiting for you as you quickly interlock your fingers, like clockwork she raised it to leave the softest of kisses to the back of your hand. There was a mixed reaction in the back of the car as Isabella groaned playfully, Emilia shielded her eyes and Val giggled. You bit your lip to stifle your laugh and you didn’t even need to look over to know your wife was the exact same.

Mapí and Ingrid were only delighted to welcome their extra guests as were the children as Valentina and Carlos both screamed excitedly at the sight of each other. “You two are insane, you know that?” Ingrid laughed loudly as she hugged you tightly, “I believe the words you are looking for are ‘thank you’” You glanced over at your wife who was holding Sofia like a little baby and placing kisses all over her face. An hour passed as you helped your girls settle in for the night before you decided to make your move. “Girls, we’re leaving!” You shouted and instantly there was herd of footsteps before they came into sight. Isabella hugged you tightly and promised to look after her sisters before making her Mami promise to play football with her when they got home tomorrow. 

Alexia picked Val up and placed kisses all over her face, “Do you have Senor Fluffy?” Val gasped in horror as she shook her head at your question, you were just about to resign to the fact you would have to drove home and get him when Alexia being the greatest mother she is pulled your daughters beloved stuffed rabbit from her back pocket. “Mr. Fluffy!” She reached out and snatched her stuffy to cuddle it close to her face. “Did you think he would let me leave without him? He’s been just as excited to come.” You smiled softly as her eyes lit up, forever infatuated with how her mother could communicate with her stuffy. “Gracias mucho Mamí. I love you.” 

You watch you wife melt as she tucks her daughters face into her neck. Deciding to give them their moment you step away to say goodbye to Emilia. “Mama, I promise I won’t have too much fun without you.” The blonde whispered as if she just confessed to a murder. “Darling, promise me you’ll have all the fun tonight.” Emilia hesitated always wanting to make sure you were okay. Emilia had imprinted on you and was like your partner in crime. Just like your wife she was extremely protective over you. 

Alexia walked over to say her goodbye while also catching the tail end of the adorable conversation. “Who will you have fun with?” She asked with her famous puppy eyes that neither you nor Alexia were immune too. “I will be with Mami all night, she’ll make sure I have fun.” Emilia lit up as if remembering that you were going to be with Alexia, “You love Mami!” You laughed as she held her hand out for your wife who was positively beaming at her little family. “Mami, promise me you’ll make sure Mama has fun.” Alexia took her request very seriously as she placed her hand on her heart and got down on one knee. “Te juro que me aseguraré de que mamá se divierta al máximo sin ti. Será difícil, pero me esforzaré.” Emilia seemed pleased with her commitment and the stern face quickly softened as she placed her forehead against Alexia’s. ‘Te amo Mami.” Alexia kissed her nose gently, ‘Te amo mucho mi princesa.” 

After the goodbyes were said and thanks given you and Alexia were back in her cupra. You already missed their little faces, but you knew they were going to have the time of their lives with your best friend’s. It also helped to have your wife who you got very little alone time with next to you. That was also obviously on the forefront of Alexia’s mind as she wasted no time connecting your lips frantically. Gone was the sweet and gentle Ale as she immediately tugged at your hair and slipping her tongue in your mouth. You moaned into her, longing to be closer to her now that you were free from any interruptions. 

Large hands hoisted your body over the middle console as she settled you in her lap, legs either side of hers. The kiss only grew more heated until whines were falling from your lips, and you were two seconds away from grinding pathetically in her lap. Alexia didn’t let up an inch as the minute you pulled away her lips were attached to your neck wanting to mark you as fast as she possibly could. It took everything in you to gently coax her away from her trance as she she stared up breathlessly at you. Pupils dilated and lips swollen, you wondered how you could go so long with just quickies and really quiet fits of passion in the middle of the night.

Her cold fingers were a stark contrast to your hot skin as she drew patterns up and down your bare back. “I’ll miss the girls, but god do I need this.” Your words were practically moaned out as you kissed her soundly again, slightly nipping at her lips to convey your need for her. Alexia could barely breath let alone respond as she leans her head back against the head rest. You laugh gently at her dishevelled form before deciding that it was now a good time to put an unfortunate stop to these activities until you were in a more respectable place. “Do you think it’s too late to ask them to keep the girls for the weekend?’ You slap her chest playfully as she chuckles at her own joke, pulling you closer so your body is flush against hers. 

Before you knew it, you were throwing on your best dress as it neared seven. When you made it home after many detours and impromptu make out sessions and one very close call where Alexia nearly had you in her backseat, you and Alexia relished in the very rare silence. As much as Alexia wanted to have you properly naked in bed so she could have her way with you, she also just missed being in your presence, so she quickly grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, and had you cuddled up against her on the couch while watching whatever shitty reality show she pretended to hate.

Alexia threw on her best casual suit that matched your dress and was now watching you add the finishing touches to your makeup. She loved just watching you doing mundane things, absolutely mesmerised at anything you did. You reached for her wanting her to be as close to you as possible, her hand fit in yours perfectly like they always did. She brushed her lip across your shoulder blade as her arms winded around your waist, pulling you back into her. 

Alexia swayed you both softly, a smile that was firmly reserved for you laying contently on her face. “Eres tan bella mi Vida.” Another kiss to the crook of your neck this time was delicately placed to confirm her words. It always baffled you that the woman behind you could still make you fall in love with her more and more every single day even though you had been together for you whole life. 

You pressed a kiss of your own to her jaw as you craned your neck to meet her pretty eyes. “I love you. More than anything in this whole world.” Alexia held you tighter meeting you halfway and placing the most loving of kisses against your awaiting lips. “Vamos mi amor, taxi is outside.” You sighed happily, grabbing your bag and then your wife’s hand as she led you towards the car. 

You had decided not to drive based on the fact that you were both a little bit wine drunk and had plans on having a few more glasses at dinner. Alexia was only delighted to not be driving as it allowed her to wrap an arm around your shoulder and whisper the most mind-numbing sweet things into your ear along with controlled and tamed kisses here and there. The usual booth in the corner of the restaurant was waiting the two of you as she helped you into your seat. Alexia’s arms wrapped around your shoulder again as you leaned into her firm shoulder, giggling at how you still couldn’t properly read the menu. 

Nevertheless, you didn’t even need to look at the menu as Alexia ordered for you, a kind smile on her face, something that always made your heart flutter was how kind your wife was even though it was just basic manner you knew you were extremely lucky. You fell into your own little bubble as you drunkenly giggled at every little comment both of you were making.

“So, we are free for the night. What do you want to do?” Her freckles were extremely prominent in the light as she placed her chin on her hand, leaning against the table. “There is a lot of things I want you to do tonight.” You whisper softly, gently biting at her earlobe as she inhaled deeply. “No te preocupes cariño, tengo muchas cosas planeadas para cuando te lleve a la cama.” Her words rolled off her tongue as they always did when she spoke in her native tongue, and it made you want her impossibly more. 

“Other than that, do you have anything else in mind?” Ever the pleaser Alexia wanted to do something fun with you, making sure she truly doesn’t waste a second. “Let’s go to the beach.” You quip making her smile brightly, so many of your dates had ended up on the beach always leading to great memories. In fact, the first time you ever talked about having kids was at the beach. You had just moved in together, finally being able to permanently move to Spain and start your life with your soulmate. You were both twenty-one, once again slightly tipsy as you lay on her chest. 

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” You slowly asked, not for even one second fearing her answer as you cuddle closer to her. You could practically hear her thoughts, perks of being best friends since you could even talk. “Four maybe five.” She replied so casually as if she hadn’t been thinking about it since she first kissed you. “All girls not that it would matter but knowing the Putellas it will be girls.” You laugh softly as she nods at her long line of women in her family. “You obviously haven’t thought about it at all,” You teased as she quietly groaned, pushing you onto your back as she props herself up on one arm, “Next you’ll be telling me you have their names picked out too.” It was a joke until you saw her cheeky grin and realised that she did in fact have names ready. 

Every time you go the beach you think of that moment yet now you have those girls, already secretly planning on having a fourth after each birthday passes. Your food arriving did little to break your bubble as Alexia held out her fork immediately feeding you the first bite. Like you always did in their restaurant you both hounded down your food until you nearly felt sick from how much you ate. You finished off your glass of wine while also declining the offer of desert as Alexia claimed to go to the bathroom like she did every time she wanted to secretly pay the bill. You had stopped trying to fight her on it as it genuinely ruins her night. Alexia adored spoiling you and she had plenty of money to do so not that you didn’t, you were doing quite well for yourself. 

You both stumbled out of the restaurant laughing as Alexia trips over herself. As always, the gravitating pull that has always surrounded you and Alexia worked it’s magic as Alexia wrapped her strong arm around your waist and hugged you into her chest as you walked to the beach. “Can we facetime our girls tonight before they go to bed?” You asked as you stared up at her with your signature puppy eyes and Alexia couldn’t believe how alike you and Emilia were as if she wasn’t the image of Isabella. “I already gave Mapi a time mi amor.” Alexia playfully scoffed as it she couldn’t believe you would’ve thought anything else. 

Your hand traced over her built chest as you make the last turn for the beach. You find a nice spot as Alexia quickly takes off her jacket and lays it out for you to sit on. For as long as you’ve known her, she has always been the most chivalrous person in the whole word. She would be the first to hold the door open, pull out you chair and offer her hand, give you her jacket or jumper whenever so much as a chill ran up your spine. She was so atuned to your emotions you hardly had to communicate at all. 

Just like always Alexia lay down on her back, inviting you to cuddle up to her as you eagerly do so. A kiss pressed to your temple had you closing your eyes as your hand found her heartbeat. “I have a crazy idea.” Alexia sat up still holding you close, you shot her a curious look as she softly unzips your dress. You rolled your eyes amusedly, “Having sex on the beach? Yeah, like we’ve never done that before.” You husk as you make no move to stop her, all you get in response is her charming smile. You figured you’d make yourself useful as your fingers nimbly undo the buttons of her shirt.

Normally by know Alexia would have you at the brink of an orgasm but she hasn’t even made a move to kiss you. You put it down to the fascination she had with undressing you, as her eyes roamed over every inch of new skin revealed. Finally, she places a soft kiss on your neck before she’s suddenly standing, ridding herself of her the rest of her clothes until she’s standing in front of you fully bare. 

Getting the hint, you think she’s trying to send you, you get on your knees and let your nails sink into the back of her thighs as she laughs softly, “Vamos, idiota.” She pulls you up and helps you take your panties off before you too are fully naked and suddenly, she’s pulling you towards the ocean. You didn’t even hesitate to follow her, laughing like a teenager as she doesn’t even think before diving straight in. You were a little more apprehensive in your approach but as your wife resurfaced with a mischievous smile you knew you’d be under water in the matter of seconds. Her arms wrapped around you, and you were underwater immediately, laughing loudly as you resurfaced and wiped the salt from your eyes so you could softly slap her strong shoulder. 

Alexia didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but she was always proven wrong especially with how the moon reflects in your gorgeous eyes and your breath-taking smile as you threw your head back with laughter. Alexia waded over to where you were floating, “Hola.” She teased as she placed her hand on your bare hip and effortlessly hoisted you up as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her. You knocked your forehead against hers, your face was sore from smiling as you kiss her nose. Alexia’s hands trailed down your lower back until she left a teasing squeeze to your ass and left them there.

“This night was perfect. Thank you.” You whisper as you kiss her lazily, arms slithering around her neck as you card your fingers through your wet hair. “Eres perfecto, Te quiero mucho.” Alexia just had her magic ways of making you feel eternally young. Maybe because the two of you had always been in love and it just grew the more you did but you felt safe and so incredibly loved by the mother of your children and your wife. 

Her hazel eyes bared into your soul and the air was knocked out of your lungs until all you could do was convey the bleeding, life altering, urgent need for the former athlete. Nothing else was on your mind, you could barely think but you finally were able to mutter the one thing you wanted most in the world at that moment. “Take me home baby.” Alexia’s smile could in fact get wider as she started out of the water, holding you up the whole way as she kissed you feverishly. 

Only breaking away to whisper, “Cualquier cosa por ti mi alma.”

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

House Husbands ft SatoSugu

househubby!Sato is overjoyed with his decision to shift his focus solely on taking care his overworked little wife. He feels worthless in his own line of work because regardless of his efforts, nothing ever changes. Being at your beck and call, making you happy.. It's all Satoru needs outta life and he's never felt more fulfilled.

househubby!Sugu is absolutely exhausted dealing with the internal war rampaging his thoughts, distorting his morality into a demon he can't recognize. But the unyielding love and support of his nonsorcerer wife is enough to suffocate his uncertainty. And Suguru's proud that with your help, he's able to shed all the toxic doubt and decides to dedicate his life to the woman that saved him.

househubbies!SatoSugu refuse to acknowledge the absolutely ridiculous qualms that they're putting their wants and needs on the back burner to take care of you. They constantly remind you that you're everything they'll ever desire in life; that they could only continue to witness curses bring the world to its knees long as they could always be there to keep you safe.

househubby!Sato is on pins and needles waiting for you to come home every single day. Bouncing on the tips of his toes like an anxious child, tense as fuck while pacing like a madman. "Relax, Toru. She gets in the same time every evening. Rilin yourself up for no reason." Suguru chuckles from the stove, finishing up dinner. "But she's been gone for hours and I miss heeer." Satoru whines like a brat, wholeheartedly feeling like his partners calm demeanor was nothing more than pure utter cap. "Quit actin like you don't want her home too. Listened to you fuckin your fist to that video of her in the bathroom earlier." Electric blue eyes narrowed, slender finger pointed accusingly in a sputtering Suguru's direction. "Will you just finish settin the damn table before y/n gets home!" He hisses back, shame licking warmth across his cheeks. "Fuckin creep Toru, I swear.."

househubby!Sugu consistently rescues you from a needy Satoru's overbearing 'welcome home' after each grueling work shift. Heroically puts himself in-between the world's strongest sorcerer and woman of their shared affections; effectively untangling you from the bone crushing embrace and ambush of kisses. "Seriously gonna smother her one of these days, idiot. Actin like she's gonna disappear or somethin." Suguru chastised, scooping you up in his own snug embrace and pecking your lips in adoration. Only a second in the kiss turns way too passionate for Satorus liking and he immediately despises the soft mouth moving slowly against your own, so damn sensually. "Lies! You just want y/n all to yourself." Satoru pouts listening to your tiny hums of pleasure as he stomps off to pour his tired little wife a glass of wine.

househubbies!SatoSugu make it a daily routine to lay you out after work and massage the accumulated tension outta every inch of your depleted frame while askin bout your day; coppin a feel as they simultaneously knead your stressed ridden muscles till you lay limp and aroused on the bed. "Fuuuck, y/nnn. Look so good spread out like this for us. Wanna continue to make our girl feel good.. Gonna let us play in that pussy for a lil bit?" Satoru speaks low at your ear, leaving sweet kisses down your neck and your shoulders when you nod. "Lemme and Sugu relax our perfect lil wife even more. Know you want this pipe, baby. Let us make you cum, deserve that and so much more. Can we, princess, hm? Work so goddamn hard every. fuckin. day." Print of his mouth leaving goosebumps over your sensitive skin while grippin on your love handles, lips trailing lower and lower as Suguru takes his place at your ear. "'S all up to you, babygirl. Tables set; blunts rolled.. Can go smoke and eat, maybe come lay back down after.. Rub ya pretty feet till you pass out inste-," "mmmfuuuck, Toru.. Oh! Yeees, right there.. Oh, oh- tongues so deep, Daddy." You interrupt, breathless moans loud and airy as Satoru spreads your doughy chocolate cheeks and digs inside you further. Pulling back to lap at your slick like a kitten does milk. Suguru chuckles when you shamelessly groan your pleasure all up in his face. "Play in that pussy it is then, babygirl."

househubby!Sato slipped into domestic bliss quite effortlessly. He's proud to admit his biggest worry these days is how mad Suguru gets when he forgets to separate the whites from the colors. "Dammit Gojo!" Satoru flinches from the spot between your legs, head snapping away from his video game to the rapid footsteps barging his direction from the bedroom. You continue to card your fingers through his soft hair, chuckling when a furious Suguru appears clad only inna pair of tight white briefs splotched with pink, holding a pair of your panties. "How many fuckin times have I told you not to mix colors with whites?! I gotta whole basket full of pink boxers cause you never pay attention to what the fuck your doin!" But Satoru only gives him the saddest puppy dog eyes he can muster while trying to ignore his Fallout character getting absolutely slaughtered by a Deathclaw. "I'm sorry! Just wanted to help with the chores. You know it wasn't on purpose, Big Daddy." His taunting and dramatic fluttering lashes have you both clutching your tummies in serious efforts to hold in your guts from the raucous laughter. But Suguru is less than impressed. He seethes in silence for a few moments before growling out through clenched teeth. "Both of you shut the fuck up.. Know what? Get over here and hurry up. Now.. On your fuckin knees." It was interesting start to your day off to say the least..

househubby!Sugu! likes to the play the role and has no problem keeping his brats in place. He's good at being the perfect Daddy with only one demand: utter compliance. And he doesn't tolerate disobedience. "I know that- ah ah ah. Slow, baby. Slow.. All the way down. Mmmmm.. Jus like that." Suguru tightens his grip on the soft locks, using them as leverage to control the pace of him dipping his cock in and out of his lovers throat. "I know it's confusing baby, sooo confusing to my girl hmm? He's your Daddy too. Aint that right? Oooh shit, suck it harder.. Mmm, ohhh yeaah- oh fuuuck!" Suguru huffs hoarsely, head fallin back in pleasure before he looks down and stares into your eyes heatedly, your gaze making his nut creep closer. "But I'm his Daddy, sweetheart. And it's time I- fuuuuck, 'm close! T-time to teach you both a lesson. Ready Toru?" Suguru slides a hand into your kinky y/h/c hair, yanking you closer to his hips and buss heavily into Satoru's waiting mouth. "Mmmmph!" Your poor husband struggles and chokes around the first gush, gagging harshly when Suguru slides his dick in deeper. "So bad at t-takin dick, Toru." He teases, wide tip knockin into glaring Satoru's abused throat; spurting twice more and flooding it with thick pearly cream. "Fuckin hell, Toruuuu! Oh God, Saaatoruuu!" Suguru moans filthily, snatching his cock and aiming at your pretty face. "Ah, ah- mmmnnh! Take it, take the rest of Daddy's nut, mama." Suguru's cum blankets your cheeks and lips in three milky streams. "G-good boy.. Ohhhh, my good giiirl, y/n." He praises when you and Satoru gently suck and lick at the oozing head of his throbbing cock, prolonging the intense pleasure.

househubbies!SatoSugu! try not to ravish you too often because of your hectic schedule but there's nothing to save you from their fiendish antics when you take your mini vacations. Time off with your husbands is nothing short of more work for you. At the very least, it's a very thorough and strenuous workout. They very consistently keep you stuffed: with happiness, love, and of course dick. "Toru- ah f-fuck.. Don't do this to me, Daddy pleeease!" You cry for your husband to give your puffy overused coochie reprieve but he's consistent with his denial. "Shhh, princess, shhhh. You're okay, you can take it. Gotta be quiet though. Me and Sugu both worked so damn hard to fuck this pretty chocolate lil pussy so good.. Don't wanna wake him up after all his hard work do you, baby?" He sucks and nibbles on your folds incessantly, grinning when the pressure of his thumb at your overstimulated clit makes you shriek and gasp for air. "Bullshit, Toru. Got her screamin her fuckin head off." Suguru exhales tiredly with closed eyes, scooping your trembling body closer into his side as you writhe from the intense sensation swirling between your legs; head thrashing from side to side on his broad chest. "Daddy, please! A-already came three t-times tonight. Ahhhnm, oh oh- needa a break, pleeease!" Your increasingly desperate cries raising in volume have Suguru's half hard dick filling full as he peeks down between your thick brown thighs, making direct eye contact with a sadistic Satoru. Who ofcourse gives a naughty wink, mouthing 'watch this' to an intrigued Suguru and latches on to your throbbing nub to nurse on you hungrily; pulling off repeatedly with acute bursts of suction that have you wordlessly keening as you squirt impressively allover Satoru's swollen pink lips inna messy glaze. You cum so fuckin hard, hands shooting to anchor themselves in Suguru's dark roots; plushy frame jerking erratically in attempt to twist away from the suffocating pleasure. "Fuuuck, Look at that.. Got her raining cum all over your pretty face, Toru. Gotta be the hardest our lil wife's eva came." Suguru admits, putting his ego aside. Too preoccupied with wetting up Satoru's face to notice how your husbands stare into each other's eyes, dicks pulsing and raging between their legs.

househubby!Sato despises Suguru's all work no play attitude. After an entire week of repetitive chores and errands in addition to no sex, Satoru's dying to get home so one of his spouses can drain his fat sack dry. "..need a warm tight hole to slide into. Been so fuckin pent up.. Babygirl is gone entirely way too much lately." He complains as Suguru drives them back to the house. "Well you know y/n's been workin hard as hell towards that big promotion, Toru. Left for work at like 5 this morning.. She'll probably need some rest and jus wanna cuddle after work." Suguru reminds him. Satoru manspreads with a huff, head slamming back into the headrest and groans in agreement. Well if not y/n then.. "What bout you? Been a minute since my handsome husband had a good nut. Don't you.. Need some relief?" Satoru asks, voice low and deep. Fingers slinking into his husbands hair scratching at his scalp lightly, his other hand caressing up and down his muscled thigh. Suguru gulps audibly, adam apple bobbing as he concentrates with all his might to keep his eyes on the road. "Uhhh.." Satoru's clear invitation instantly has him rock hard and remembering that last time he had the strongest man in the world on his back while you were at work. Filth spewing from his mouth that eventually went quiet and slack when Suguru held down his wrists and grinded in deep as fuck over and over. Damn, the slutty way Satoru kept rolling his narrow hips.. Effectively fuckin himself on Suguru's dick with the prettiest flush on his chest, strands of snowy locks plastered to his damp creased forehead, stiff untouched cock twitching and smearing precum between them. "Sugu? Still with me?" Satoru asks, cheeky smirk alluding to knowing exactly what's on his husbands mind. Suguru clears his throat and nods, mouth dry and parched; immediately in dire need of a drink of the tall glass of water sitting next to him. "Well? You gonna fuck me before y/n gets home or nah?" Another curt nod from Suguru has Satoru grinning like he just one the lottery, greedily groping his spouses bulge the rest of the ride home.

househubby!Sugu feels like he can only indulge his husbands despicable fantasies when all duties have either been prepped or taken care of. Therefore he feels absolutely guiltless when he's halfway to heaven and his cell rings, your parents number popping up on the screen. Satoru stares at Suguru in disbelief as he pulls away and gets outta bed. Mouth running a mile per minute to your dad while he hops around the room trying to get his leg into his pants. ".. Alright, bet.. Love you too pops.. Bye." He ends the call and turns to a disheveled frowning Satoru, reaching up to swoop his long hair up inna bun. "The fuck, Suguru-," Satoru starts but his protests are swiftly dismissed. "Don't start. They just need one small lil favor. Plus, Moms said she missed you cause you didn't come by with us last time y/n and I visited." Satoru sighs in acknowledgement and quickly chucks on his clothes, features softening considerably. "I do miss Mama y/l/n. Wanted to run a few things by her for y/n's birthday surprise anyway." He shrugs, slipping into his black nike slides. "Alright, sounds like a plan- oh! She said to tell you she's got your favorite mochi wai- Gojo, WHAT THE FUCK!" Suguru sentence abruptly cutting off, consumed in horror that Satoru just teleported them into your parents kitchen clad only in a pair of black jeans. "Christ almighty!" Your mom jumps at their sudden appearance and Suguru's exclamation, holding her pounding heart and sternly eyeing your husbands up and down. "Sup Mom, where is it?" Satoru gets straight to the point, kissing your mom's cheek and skipping off to the garage freezer when she points. "Hell is wrong with that boy?" Your mom asks the sanest of the two, already heading to grab Suguru a shirt and some socks. "So many things, Ma. How much time you got?"

househubbies!SatoSugu are both pleasantly surprised when you pull up to your parents spot after work and tell them there's something that's been on your mind for the past few weeks. "Spill the beans, princess. Can't believe you waited this long to tell us." Satoru gives his signature pout as he pulls you down to sit on the couch in-between them. "Yeah, sweetheart. You know we don't keep secrets. Tell us what's been on your mind." So you take a deep breath before you launch into your mini speech. "I love you both so much, never ever dreamed I'd be lucky enough to marry my soul mates. And I know we've talked about kids but my job has always made that impossible but today I got the promotion." Your husbands are ready to click their heels in excitement at your news but you hush sweet words with a finger to their lips. "But that's not all. I- uh. I make my own schedule now and haveso much more time on my hands that I think- um.." You stall a bit, nervous as fuck. "Y/n spit out already. Got us on the edges of our seat here." Satoru groans at your reluctance. "Honey, what's goin on?" Suguru questions with concern. "I stopped taking birth control so we can have a baby!" Your hands pop over your mouth at the outburst but your men already have that look in their eye and quickly close in on your tense frame. "That's all? So anxious just to tell us you wanna get bred tonight?" Satoru teases, gripping your hips and kissing your cheek. "That right, sweet wife?" Suguru sneers, loving how your breath speeds as they feel you up. "You want us both to put a baby in that needy lil pussy tonight?" You're only able to nod and moan as Satoru takes that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth and grope your tit roughly. Suguru watches with a sly smile as your other husbands assault evolves into finger fuckin you while inhaling your soft pretty cries. "Time to say bye bye, princess. Your Daddies need time alone with our perfect lil wife now." Suguru finally says after watching for a couple minutes, pulling you from a distraught Satoru and ushering you towards your parents. "And we're leaving your car. Tell em I'll pick it up tomorrow." Satoru demands as he sucks your slick from his fingers. You do as they say like always. And since you so sweetly asked for a baby, your generous husbands happily give you two tonight.

[springwitch8]

venus, are you there? (agatha harkness x fem!witch!reader)

💜 reupload sorry i fucked up and i'm really sad about it 💜

summary: your patron goddess, venus, has been distant lately. you don't know what you did to upset her, but your life and your powers have been suffering in her absence. you visit the local mage, agatha harkness, about your problem. as you come to find out, it takes a special kind of ritual to provoke the goddess of love.

warnings: lesbian sex duh (18+), DUBCON (innocent!reader is really into agatha's "counsel" but oblivious to her sexual intentions until they're doing the deed), historic westview AU (before it was a suburb, it was a magical village), agatha's improv skills, no beta we die like lilia

notes: after much rumination on the AAA finale, i've decided that being a lifelong liar and diabolical villain can only make a lesbian hotter. centuries is a long time to live, and my brain has gone wild thinking of all the messed-up ways agatha must have passed the time. i imagine she had some fun with the women around her—giving them the attention and stimulation they needed, regardless of whether they knew it or not. gotta keep the bed warm between all the power-stealing and mass murder, am i right ladies?

"agatha harkness, mother of witches, watches over westview from her dwelling on the hill. any spell you can't cast, she will."

so the story went, passed around among the women of the village. if they were to be believed, agatha ran an apothecary out of her home, a one-stop shop of sorts for witches in dire need of guidance. the locals spoke about her with admiration, and the tales of her magical miracles were legend.

hardly a day went by without some talk of agatha's feats: how she unbound someone's great-aunt after the woman had been powerless for decades, or how she rescued a friend of a friend from certain death after a nasty broomstick accident.

---

venus, goddess of love and beauty, had been guiding you all your life. when you were little, you saw her sometimes in the flower-dotted meadow behind your house—a spectral angel, wrapped in pink silk with her hand outstretched to you.

now, though, venus had been silent for nearly a month. her altar was covered in offerings, none of which seemed to please her. you tried every trick under the moon to lure your patron goddess out of hiding, but nothing stuck.

with every failure, things felt increasingly... off. out of the blue, your jewelry degraded to the point that it looked cheap and rusty. you felt tired more often; your skin grew cold and dry. then, you started to feel venus's absence in your relationships. when you got into a huge fight with your best friend over a random misunderstanding, you knew you had to do something.

---

bouncing anxiously on your heels, you waited for agatha to answer the knocks at her door. there was something foreboding about her house in all its gothic glory.

the intricately carved door swung open and there she was, the fabled mother of witches. long brown waves cascaded over her purple-clad shoulders, wild tresses gliding over a silken cloak. you hadn't expected her to be so gorgeous. you'd always pictured the local legend as a crone.

"can i help you, sweetheart?" her voice was warm and lilting. you were almost too staggered by her darkly striking looks to reply, and agatha seemed to know it. her eyes sparkled with amusement, and the corners of her mouth tilted upward.

"um, i hope so," you finally managed before steadying yourself with a deep breath. "venus is my guide, but she's been ignoring me lately. all my gifts and devotions have been worthless; i still can't find her."

"hmmm..." agatha hummed in contemplation, her brows furrowed and fingernails tapping rhythmically against the doorframe. moments later, she ushered you inside and closed the door behind you. "what have you offered her? do you have a proper altar at home?"

"yes, and i've tried everything: fresh roses and myrtle, sea shells, wine, honey, chocolate..." you trailed off as you noticed the scenery around you.

agatha's walls were covered from floor to ceiling in magical materials and aids. she had jars upon jars of herbs, petals and extracts; woven tapestries of pagan deities and common incantations; various crystals suspended in place, arranged to form rune-like symbols; and a massive "death" tarot card in a frame lined with wilted flowers.

as you looked around her home, awestruck, agatha gently nudged you toward her couch. you sunk into the black leather and surveyed the coffee table in front of you, similarly cluttered with witchy items like candles, incense, and a cauldron. agatha stayed on her feet, pacing back and forth while she pondered your situation.

"how long has it been since you last sensed her?" agatha asked. you felt your face heat up when she turned her intense blue gaze to you. you could practically feel the power radiating off of her.

"about a month," you answered sheepishly, wringing your hands in your lap. a look of intrigue flashed across the witch's face and she stalked toward you. soon, she was standing behind the couch where you were sat, her hands firm on your shoulders.

"you're a pretty girl..." she thought out loud, and you squirmed subtly in place at the compliment. "servant of venus, and it shows..." her fingernails traced barely-there spirals on either side of your neck, and goosebumps spread across your skin. satisfied, agatha pulled away to resume her pacing. "got anyone special in your life?"

"i-i'm close with some of the other witches in town, and my grandma lives in the next village over—"

"not what i meant, honey," agatha purred and perched herself on the couch next to you. "who looks after your needs?" you didn't reply, staring at her quizzically. she tried again. "cute thing like you must have a gentleman caller or two, no?"

"not at the moment," you shook your head. "although there was a man who passed through westview a while back, a traveler. he courted me."

"and were you intimate with this nomad?"

"he only kissed me once, right before he left town. said he'd be back for me."

"how did it feel?"

"p-pardon?" you stammered, not expecting to be grilled on your romantic history today—let alone by agatha harkness, who grinned like a cheshire cat at your shyness.

"magic-wise, i mean. acts of affection can trigger power surges, especially for witches who follow venus... if she approves."

"i don't remember sensing anything out of the ordinary," you shrugged. "i wasn't expecting to feel a spark right away; it was just nice to be admired."

"i'm sure, but you're a disciple of venus. do keep in mind: she rules over love, not self-esteem," agatha took hold of your hand while she advised you, sending a chill up your arm. "i have a theory. when did you meet this man?"

"five or six weeks ago, i'd say."

"then it sounds like your goddess was displeased with your choice of lover."

"what, so she's just gone? i kissed the wrong guy and she gave up on me?"

"oh no, sweetpea, you just have to get her attention again."

"how can i do that?" agatha paused at the question, surveying the room in all its magical madness.

"do you still have power?"

"yes," you said, extending your palm toward her—only your magic wouldn't spark. it fizzled, emitting blots of pale pink, but you couldn't get your powers flowing fully.

"oh dear! looks like your magic's not flowing right. it's still there, promise."

"how can you tell?"

agatha narrowed her eyes and gave you a smirk that made you clench your thighs together. then she surged forward, cupping your face and kissing you deeply before you even knew what was happening.

agatha's kiss was hungry, purposeful. her tongue lapped at yours while her fingers sent purple caresses along your jawline. she took your breath away and set your body on fire all at once. to your disappointment, she subsequently pulled away.

"see, lovebug?" she beamed at the sight of you with hooded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. then, she held your open palm up to your light of sight. "you've still got it."

sure enough, the glow of your magic was there. it was weak, but it was there, swirling in the center of your hand.

"why don't you try lifting that spell jar over there?" agatha gestured to a small object on a wall shelf. "the one with the pink wax seal."

you aimed your palm at the spell jar and focused your energy, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't harness the telekinetic power to make it budge. you huffed in frustration.

"don't lose hope, angel," agatha rubbed your thigh comfortingly. "i know a ritual."

"you can bring venus back to my side? really?" you perked up in near-disbelief.

"would you be here if you doubted me?" she quipped back, forcing a conciliatory head shake out of you. "didn't think so. now take your clothes off."

"what?" your eyes almost bulged out of your head, but your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the thought of the older witch seeing your body. one predatory smile from agatha, and your mind was officially at war with your body. she stroked your cheek in mock sympathy, but you could see the amusement in her eyes. she gestured to the wall opposite you both, plastered with photos and illustrations of nude witches dancing under the moon and wading into the sea.

"precious few magical rites involve fabric, darling," agatha soothed. "it's an unnecessary barrier between your energy and the earth."

reluctant yet hanging on her every word, you relented and stripped for her. there was a pleased glint in her eye while she watched your body intently. you peeled off your clothes, giving her occasional anxious looks while you bared yourself.

"good girl," she cooed, watching you shift uneasily from foot to foot. your nipples hardened at a chill, and you could swear her eyes darkened in response. you blinked, and she was in front of you, her robes mere inches from your naked body. after another blink and a rush of purple, you found yourself in another room in the sprawling house—what seemed, at a cursory glance, like agatha's bedroom. "pardon the change of scenery; this is the most magically protected place in the house. now," she gestured to a king-sized, plush purple bed. "on your back, gorgeous. get nice and comfy so we can draw out your power."

"are you gonna have me meditate? or, ummm, astral project?" you asked in arousal and disbelief.

"sure, more or less," she chuckled darkly. impatient, she sent you floating to the center of the mattress with a purple mist. standing at the foot of the bed, she stared at you like you were her last meal. you heard a faint, sparkling whoosh and looked up to see tendrils of violet flying from her palms, a knowing grin on her face. when her magic latched onto your skin and began to stroke its way up your thighs, she piped up again. "can you feel that, sweet girl?"

before you could respond, agatha pounced. she caged your body with hers and dove for a sensitive spot on your neck. she suckled, and you gave a breathy moan that seemed to excite her.

she made her way down to your sternum with sloppy kisses, then turned her attention to your breasts—squeezing and caressing them while you both sighed in pleasure. her hands were rough and greedy and felt so good.

"is this, ahhh, part of the—" agatha cut you off by pinching your nipple between her fingers, rolling it while threads of her magic danced around the sensitive bud. when she closed her mouth around your other nipple, your back arched off the bed, and the three candles on agatha's nightstand spontaneously lit. you gaped at the witch above you in shock. "did i do that?"

"sure did, superstar. i told you this ritual would draw out your power," the older witch said with a smugly victorious smile. she gave each of your tits a kiss farewell before reluctantly parting with them. then, she planted a meandering path of energy-infused smooches from your chest all the way down to your lower belly. even the gentlest touches of her magic electrified your nerve endings, making you writhe under agatha in a silent plea for more, more, more. "oh dear, aren't you needy?"

"yes, yes please agatha, i need you to..." you trailed off upon seeing the expectant, self-satisfied look on the woman's face. the clouds of your desire parted momentarily, and you finally realized what exactly you were asking the mother of witches to do for you (to you). agatha had seduced you into her lair, reduced you to a begging mess. you decided right then and there not to hold it against her. "finish the ritual."

"how could i deny such a polite request from such a pretty girl?" agatha cooed before snapping her fingers, pinning your legs open with her magic. your ankles were bound to opposite corners of the bed by shimmering purple cuffs of energy. agatha grinned wolfishly as she situated herself between your spread legs. "alright, baby, just relax. let yourself feel."

you released a shaky breath and closed your eyes in preparation for agatha's touch. at the first stroke of her fingers through your folds, you felt magic crackling in your veins. you tried to stay on top of the wave of power that threatened to overwhelm you.

"goddess, you're dripping. that's a good sign," agatha drawled, her eyes fixed on her fingers as they lightly stroked up and down your pussy. with no warning, her pointer finger found your clit and pressed down, eliciting a yelp from you. when she began to draw firm circles on the bundle of nerves, you cried out, and the candles on agatha's bedside table rumbled like they were about to tip over. "that's my girl. feels nice when i rub you there, hmmm?"

"s'good, agatha, please don't stop..." you babbled breathlessly, your hips bucking toward her hand. agatha made a low growling sound and laid her free arm across your abdomen, pinning your lower body to the mattress. then, while you were still reeling from her manhandling, she slipped two slender fingers inside you. "oh!" you squealed at the foreign sensation, the sudden fullness. her digits probed your pussy, searching for something. you squirmed as her long fingers combed your fluttering walls. "ag—ahhh, i feel funny."

"i know, sweetie, just bear with me for a second here. you're taking it so well," agatha's free hand twitched and sent a bolt of tingling purple warmth to your clit, rewarding your patience. you gasped and bit your lip to keep from screaming. agatha wasn't even touching your bundle of nerves, yet you could feel her playing with it all the same. while agatha chuckled at your barely-restrained desire, her fingers found your g-spot. this time, you couldn't suppress a keening moan. "oooh, i like that sound. stay loud, lovely girl; let venus hear you."

she emphasized her words with a hard stroke of her fingertips against your special spot, and you shrieked. your hands scrambled for purchase somewhere, anywhere, and ultimately clung to two threads tied to the bedframe above your head. you didn't remember them being there before, but you figured it was one of agatha's tricks. had you opened your eyes, you would have seen the rosy color of the glowing strings and realized that you, not agatha, conjured them.

"are you close, baby girl? i can feel your magic pulsing and flowing," agatha whispered with a sultry wink. you clenched around her fingers and she cackled, pressing her violet-charged thumb to your clit and doubling the energetic stimulation there. you yanked at the pink restraints above your head and writhed pathetically at her touch. "if the ritual is true, you're about to experience pure ecstasy. say my name when you do."

it was all too much. her fingers twisted inside you and brushed your g-spot while her thumb rubbed vibrating, sparkling circles on your clit. a wave of white-hot bliss crested over you, and you cried out: "agatha!"

"princess," the older witch soothed as she continued her ruthless strokes. she looked around in awe as the room was bathed in blushing light, your just-recovered power shining in the afterglow of your orgasm. but agatha didn't let up. she wanted a replay of your precious, pleasured face. when you tried to wiggle out of her grasp, she scoffed. "don't pretend you can't give me another because you're going to, little witch."

she then ducked down to mouth at your clit while sneaking a third finger into you, curling to hit your most sensitive spots with vibrating energy. she took your button into her mouth and sucked vigorously, which sent you floating over the edge once more. again you screamed her name, but this time you also reached for her free hand where it rested on your chest. her fingers eagerly intertwined with yours, and your magic reached out for hers—a pink orb yearning for a touch of purple, charged hands held together by attraction.

"come back to me, superstar," the older woman coaxed as your orgasm faded. she smiled and guided your palm into your field of view. there it was, as if it had never dimmed: your power. agatha had fulfilled her promise. "told you so. i could have stopped after one, so that second round was just for me—you're stunning when you come."

"you... you did it. you got her back," you whispered in disbelief and gratitude. "thank you, agatha. i don't know how to repay you for this."

"oh, i can think of a few ways," she laughed, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "how about you show me what you can do with all that power, honey?"

you sat up and stared at her, confused. she took your glowing hand and dragged it over her upper thigh, exposed by a slit in her dress. you took the hint, swiftly using your magic to vanish her clothes just as she'd done for you. you waved her legs apart and teased your way through her folds, savoring the feeling of her arousal on your fingers. agatha huffed.

"that all you got, daughter of venus? not even gonna touch me witch-style?" agatha provoked. you sighed but gave in, your index finger sending a beam of pink stimulation to explore her from the inside. she gasped and bucked her hips at you frantically. smirking, you lowered your face down to her pussy and started worshipping her clit. while you sucked the bundle of nerves into your mouth, your hands snuck up to agatha's chest. you tweaked her nipples with magic-tinged fingers, and the triple stimulation made the older witch fall apart. "such a good, sweet girl... don't stop, angel..."

you kept working diligently until the witch groaned and pushed you away with a wall of violet. you sat back on your knees and gazed at her, dazedly waiting for any sign of approval. as soon as agatha recovered from her high, she caught you by surprise with a deep, heated kiss.

"you, my darling, are full of surprises," agatha booped your nose as she pulled away. "and look at you!" she cradled your hand and pressed her finger into the center of your swirling, rosy magic. "got your groove back. i told you i'd fix ya right up, and the ritual wasn't so bad, was it?"

"n-no, it was... thank you," you stammered, still reacting to the ritual. "how much do i owe you?"

"don't be silly, toots," agatha said melodically while she wrapped her arms around you and lay back. "i believe in karma. you'll pay me back in kind someday, sugar; don't sweat it today."

"what if she leaves again?" you whispered, feeling agatha's shallow breathing against the crown of your head as she snuggled you. she shook her head, and you felt her nose moving from side to side.

"shhh, sweetheart," she cooed, running her fingers up and down the exposed side of your torso. "that's what i'm here for. any more problems, you come to me. i'd happily make you feel good as new."

satisfied, you burrowed into agatha's hold and drifted off to sleep. with the object of her desire finally at her mercy, agatha was pleased too. she thought about her next move; she'd need to possess another man to pursue you and throw off your powers again. you'd probably get wise to it after the third or fourth guy, but what could you do about it? try to kill her? agatha smiled at the day's work and breathed in your scent, lulling herself to sleep.

[the-kr8tor]

Hello! May I make a request of Hobie and the reader doing a long distance phone call during New Years (like different time zones) and Hobie is struggling to stay up until it becomes New Years for R? 🥹 Please take your time if you have a lot of requests already!

Thank you for the adorable request! I had so much fun writing it ❤️ I hope you like it!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck! Hobie, one suggestive joke, fluff!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The clock ticks in Hobie's ears relentlessly while he's all cozied up in bed. It's already four am on his side of the world, the fireworks are long gone, confettis scattered and left on his shag carpet, and the smell of champagne and beer he tried to scrub off lingers around the house boat. He's dead tired from the festivities, and the quiet snores from the band who are sleeping in his living room doesn't help his sleep deprived state. All he wants to do is close his eyes and wake up ten hours later for breakfast. But he'll be damned if he doesn't wait for the clock to strike midnight in your timezone.

“You can sleep, Hobie, I'll be fine.” Your voice bounces off around the tiled bathroom as you hide inside and away from the loud party happening just outside the door. You just can't seem to be in the mood for partying when he's not there with you. Missing him is the understatement of the century, all you want right now is to be cuddled up under the sheets with him.

“I know, lovie.” He's extra affectionate when sleep clings to him. Whispering into the phone so he doesn't wake up his band mates. “But I couldn't sleep and leave you in last year.” You chuckle, his deep crackly voice caused by his sleepiness earns a fond smile from you, reminding you of the times he'd whisper sweet words to you before bed. “‘sides, we always snogged at midnight.”

“How will we kiss at midnight, handsome?” Your tone is full of affection mixed with a touch of longing. “Are you gonna make out with your phone?”

Hobie muffles his laughter against his pillow, or your pillow for that matter, one he sprays with your perfume before bed to make himself less lonely.

“I could, I have you as my screensaver.” He sniffs, the cold January night nestling in his bones.

“And I have you as mine, but that doesn't mean I'm going to kiss my dirty ass phone.”

“Why not?” He jokes, practically seeing your smile in his mind's eye.

“Because!” You laugh, the sound echoing around the bathroom and out of his phone's speakers. “Phones are as nasty as a toilet seat, y’know.”

“That one of your facts?”

“Yeah, it's a true fact.”

“I miss your fun facts, love.” He sighs, turning around to face your empty side of the bed.

“And I miss you, Hobie.” You stare up at the ceiling, watching a moth fly around the moldy roof. “I'm counting down the days until my contract ends. And I promise you'll hear my annoying fun facts again soon.”

“They're not annoyin’. At least tell me that the blokes over there are treatin’ you well.” He hugs himself, pulling the fluffy blanket closer to him. “Yuri says she'll march over there if someone's an arse to you.”

“Yuri or you?” You chuckle, hearing cheering outside but when you check the time you're still five minutes away from midnight.

“Both, love. We'll all fly over there and rescue you.”

“You don't have to wait long, Hobie. In just one month and you don't have to miss me anymore—” A knock interrupts you, telling you to hurry up on the toilet. “In a second!”

“Someone needs to shite, love.” He laughs against the receiver as he hears you snort at his joke. And with a click of the door, you open it, only to be met by the loud partying.

“Sorry,” he doesn't know if you're apologizing to him or to the person. “I'll find a spot, Hobie. Give me a minute.”

“You've got all my minutes, lovie.” He fights a yawn, hearing some shuffling and booming music on the other end. A contrast to the quiet of his houseboat.

After a minute, the sound of the party fades into the background. “There, found an empty bedroom with a view of the fireworks. I got lucky.”

“A bedroom huh? Should I open my camera for a video call instead?” You can practically picture the smirk from his tone alone.

“If you want to get a bill with three digits then sure, Hobie.” You joke, sitting down on the squeaky bed just as he sits up on his own mattress.

“I could buy a bloody ticket with that.” He looks at the small porthole window, seeing the moon and the clear sky just outside. It fills him with comfort to know that you're also looking at the same moon and sky. “Three minutes till midnight, love, what's your wish?”

“To see you.” You don't miss a beat. “And to more years with you.”

“‘m not goin' anywhere.” His eyes grow heavy with every second that passes. “Consider your wish granted.”

You feign a gasp. “Are you outside right now?!”

“Yeah, ‘m the one settin’ up fireworks.”

Laughing, you start to hear the countdown. “Thirty seconds, Hobie. What was your wish?”

“For you to come home.” Your heart squeezes in your chest. “And for Osborne to kick the bucket.”

You smile, standing up to get closer to the window. “All good wishes.” The crowd outside counts from ten backwards. “It's a nice night out, Hobie. Just think that a month from now we'll be spending it together again.”

6, 5…

“Jus’ the night?” He teases.

4, 3…

“All day, 24/7, and all the fucking nights.” You giggle, eyes glimmering as the multi coloured fireworks go off in the distance.

2, 1!

“Happy New year, Hobie.”

“Happy new year, love.” He inhales, missing your warmth and the press of your lips against his own.

“Are you kissing your phone? Please don't kiss your phone.” You're alone in the dark room, but your heart feels full whenever you talk to him. You might be miles apart from him but you've never felt closer to him than ever.

“Snoggin’ it right now.” Joking, he smacks his lips together.

“I'm going to have to sanitize your lips when I get home.”

“Usin’ your own lips right?” He flirts, thinking that it wouldn't work and would just have you laughing. But with your yearning sigh on the other end, he knows he got you.

“I change my wish, my new wish is for you to fly your flat ass out here and grant my first wish.”

“Watch me swing over there, love.”

[munson-blurbs]

hii 🫶🏻 i've had this idea of the reader and eddie being at a halloween party and her drink getting spiked (roofied or wtv) and like eddie comes to the rescue and takes care of her - enemies to slight lovers pls!! have a good day/night :))

Hi! I changed it a bit so that her drink was spiked with extra booze, but I kept it enemies-to-lovers!

Warnings: underage drinking (everyone is over 18 but under 21), reader's drink gets spiked, drunkenness, brief mention of Eddie dealing, Billy Hargrove needs his own warning tbh, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love

WC: 2.5k

Thank you so much to @corroded-hellfire @lofaewrites and @manda-panda-monium for their help! Y'all made this fic much stronger, and I am indebted to you.

--

A brief, incomplete list of activities you enjoy: grabbing coffee with a few friends, walks down by Lover’s Lake powered by whatever cassette you’ve jammed into your WalkMan, reading a good book and curling up in the sunlight streaming through your bedroom window.

A brief, incomplete list of activities you despise: Steve Harrington’s house parties.

The bass from the stereo has the entire downstairs shaking, and you wince as you pass by it and make your way to Nancy. She’s the reason why you’ve started coming to these stupid things, and although Steve isn’t as big of a tool as you’d previously thought, it doesn’t make other people more tolerable.

“You having a good time?” Nancy asks now, bouncing along with the music. Her eyes are hazy with booze; her half-filled cup of the jungle juice concoction is clearly far from her first of the evening.

You shrug, hitching your bag close to your shoulder as a beast of a man in a letterman jacket pushes his way through the crowd. “Not really.”

“Cool, awesome!” Nancy chirps, senses compromised by the constant flow of alcohol and the blasting music. 

Steve has his arm around her waist, pressing chaste kisses to her neck. He looks up at you for just a second and frowns. “Where’s your drink?”

You jingle the car keys you’ve had clenched in your fist the whole night, ready to make a getaway as early as you can. “Designated driver. Unless you want José Cuervo behind the wheel tonight,” you raise your brows as you motion to your friend.

Steve shakes his head. “Nance is gonna stay here with me tonight,” he tells you, taking Nancy’s cup from her hand and placing it in yours. “She’s had enough, anyway. So, uh, go crazy.”

Go crazy. It’s tempting to dull the roar of the dozen or so conversations worming their way into your consciousness. And no doubt it’ll be easier to slap a fake smile on your face and even join one of them. But you still have to get home somehow, and the thought of asking either of your overbearing parents for a ride home from a party has your stomach in knots, especially considering you’d told them you were going to the library and sleeping at the Wheeler’s. 

Instead of going crazy, you toss the couple a frustrated eye roll, but they’re both too enmeshed in their puppy love for each other to catch it. Home. You just need to get home, snug in your own bed, away from–

“Hey, Goody Two-Shoes!” Billy Hargrove flings his muscular arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him despite your clear lack of interest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad etiquette to bring down the party vibe?”

 “Get offa me,” you grumble, but his strength easily overpowers yours. 

“What you need,” he continues, stifling a beer-scented belch, “is to fuckin’ loosen up.” He punctuates his statement by placing one beefy hand on each of your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. He stumbles a bit in his drunken state, and you seize the opportunity to step away from him.

The entire encounter makes the drink in your hand even more tempting, and you throw it back without another thought. Your throat burns with the sting of alcohol, and you wince reflexively. Jeez, if this is what Nancy’s been drinking all night, no wonder she’s wasted, you think, grateful that you only had half of the cup.

Eddie Munson arrives when the party is in full swing, lunch box of illicit substances gripped tight in his hands. He hates spending time with these jockstraps outside of school, but parties are a great way to make some extra cash, and rich douchebags like King Steve practically throw the money at him, too drunk and lazy to actually count it out.

He sees you out of the corner of his eye, swaying to the music alongside Billy Hargrove. You’re leaning into him, with his hand around your waist pulling you into him. You laugh loudly, though it doesn’t appear that Billy’s said anything.

What a weird pair, Eddie muses, comparing your usual type-A, pain-in-the-ass, teacher’s pet personality with Billy’s thoughtlessness and indifference. He watches as Billy nonchalantly refills your drink and grabs your backside.

When Billy notices Eddie, he props you against the counter and murmurs something before staggering over to buy something. “What do you have tonight, Munson?”

“The usual,” Eddie replies casually, placing the tin box on the kitchen table and flipping it open. “So, uh, looks like Goody-Two Shoes is having a good time.”

Billy chuckles, twirling a toothpick across his lips. It’s a menacing laugh, and Eddie doesn’t care for the sound of it. “Yeah, she needed a little help, but I took care of it.”

He really doesn’t like that. “What do you mean?”

“Slipped a little extra in her drink when she wasn’t looking,” Billy whispers, flashing Eddie a now-empty mini bottle of tequila. “Shit was pretty strong to begin with, but she’s definitely feeling it now.”

“You spiked her drink?” Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and he snaps the lunch box shut. When Billy just laughs again, Eddie shoves him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Billy holds his hands up in defense. “Hey, man, you can’t blame a guy for doing what he has to do to get laid. Especially when it’s someone as uptight as her.”

Rage pounds in Eddie’s ears, and he barely hears anything after that. He marches towards you, fists clenched. You weren’t his favorite person, and he wasn’t yours–not after what happened in health last year–but he’d be damned if he let you get taken advantage of.

“Hey,” he says softly, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention. “Let me get you home.”

You sloppily shake your head, jungle juice sloshing over the side of the cup. “‘M fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He’s insistent, tone much harsher than his usual carelessness. “You’re absolutely plastered, and I’m taking you home.” He extends his hand, and you reluctantly take it, letting him lead you to his van. Your feet are bricks beneath you, and you giggle involuntarily as you trip over them.

“Munson, what the fuck?” Billy calls out, charging over. His own stride isn’t much more graceful than yours; the Keg Stand Champion having reclaimed his title earlier in the evening. “Get your own girl.” He reaches for your bicep to tug you away, but Eddie’s faster, which only makes the jock’s eyes stonier. “Fucking freak!” he calls out, quickly downing another plastic cup of beer.

Your eyelids begin to close, and slurred words leave your lips. “Whas’ goin’ on? Why’s Billy shhh-so mad?”

Eddie ignores your question, not wanting to slow down and risk Billy catching up to you. Once he’s safely got you in the passenger seat, he starts the ignition and glances at where you’re leaning against the window. “Where to?”

“Home.”

“Right, and, uh…where might that be?”

You shrug, body heavier with sleep by the second. “Dunno.”

“Like an address, or a general direction…anything?” Eddie drums his ringed fingers against the steering wheel. He sighs and throws the van in reverse when you shake your head. “All right, looks like you’re staying at mine.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, stealing a peek at you every minute or so. You’re sleeping, soft snores punctuating the otherwise silent ride. He winces as he goes over a bump and puts his arm out to prevent you from falling against the dashboard. 

Twenty minutes later—it would have been fifteen, but he drove slowly to prevent jostling you too much—he’s pulling up to his trailer. “Welcome to Casa Munson.” He opens his door with a dramatic grunt and shuffles around to your side. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” If any of the neighbors see him, they’ll assume the worst, but it’s either that or have you sleep in the van. 

The last thing you remember is mumbling about needing a bed and Eddie leading you to his with an offhand comment about not knowing where the stains are from. When you wake the next morning, a jackhammer has replaced your brain and your throat is filled with bile. 

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, pulling your sheet up over your eyes to shield them from the sun. Except this isn’t the baby pink set your mom bought you from Wal-Mart. These sheets are white and smell like cigarettes, weed, and drugstore cologne. The realization that this isn’t your room has you jolting up in bed despite your body’s protests. “What the hell?”

“Good morning to you, too,” a voice grumbles from below. You look down to see Eddie Munson laying on the floor, a towel rolled below his head in a makeshift pillow. A throw blanket covers from his shoulders to just above his ankles, leaving his sweat sock-clad feet exposed. “There’s some water and pretzels next to you, and I can grab Advil if you need.”

You nod, squeezing your eyelids together at the pain the slight head movement causes. “Yes, please.” He returns with the medicine, and you eagerly swallow it with a gulp of water. A quick assessment assures you that your clothes are still on, but you still have to ask, “did we…”

“Nope. No way. Not even a little.” He takes a seat next to you, offering the pretzel canister. Though your stomach is churning, you need something to absorb the medicine, so you take a handful and carefully munch on them. “But you had quite the offer last night.”

“Wha—?”

“Hargrove spiked your drink to get you in bed,” he explains. His mop of curls is disheveled from tossing and turning, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “And, uh, not to sleep.”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” you mutter. A fresh wave of nausea washes over you, and it’s not from the hangover. Your memories are muddled, but you can vaguely piece the night together: Nancy and Steve, the unfinished drink, Billy’s arm around you… “We left before he could do anything, right?”

Eddie nods, stealing the plastic water bottle from your grasp and taking a swig. He swishes it around his mouth before answering. “Got you outta there before he could even cop a feel.”

You grimace at his brazen response. “Well, um, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” You start to stand up, fumbling for your keys in your bag when you remember. “Fuck, my car’s still at Steve’s.”

“I can take you,” Eddie offers, grabbing the jeans he’d haphazardly flung over his desk chair. 

“Nah, s’okay. I can walk.”

“Seriously?” He throws his hands in the air, utterly exasperated with you. “You’d rather walk three miles back to Harrington’s—hungover as shit…looking like that,” he gestures vaguely at your smeared makeup and bloodshot eyes, “than take a ride from me?”

You remain quiet, so he proceeds with his rant. 

“Y’know, when you ditched me last year, I figured you weren’t, like, into me or whatever. But, Christ, what did I do to make you hate my guts?”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “I ditched you?” The thunderous headache makes it difficult to wrack your brain for the memory, but you definitely would recall ditching Eddie Munson. “I never did that.”

“Last April,” he begins, tone clipped and direct, “the night we were supposed to finish our health project—”

“You ditched me.”

He shakes his head. “Uh, no. I invited you to see my band play and then we would finish the project after—which you agreed to—and then you never showed.”

“No, you told me, and I quote, ‘Corroded Coffin has a gig at The Hideout at 8, and we can put the poster together after we play.”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly what?” It hurts to roll your eyes, but you do it anyway just to emphasize the absurdity of the situation. “That wasn’t an invitation; that was just you telling me what time the show starts.”

“What time it starts,” he says slowly, as though explaining it to a child. “If I just wanted to meet up for the project, I would’ve told you what time it ends.” His eyes narrow. “Do you really think I spent all that time doing research with you just to flake when we got to do the creative part?”

The missing pieces shift into the puzzle. You’d been thrown off when Eddie had failed to show that night; you’d genuinely thought the two of you had forged some kind of friendship during your evenings at the Hawkins Library. But when midnight had rolled around, you’d given up altogether, gathered your notes, and made the poster alone. 

“I…I didn’t know…” you muse, mouth drier than it was before you’d drank water. “I thought you forgot, or didn’t care…” You press a tooth into your bottom lip and gnaw at the chapped skin. “Trust me, I never would’ve ditched the guy I—”

You’d tried to cut yourself off before Eddie catches what you’d inadvertently implied, but it’s too late. “The guy you…” he gently goads. When you don’t answer, he sits on the bed next to you and knocks his knee against yours. “Would it help if I told you that you’re the girl I…” He tilts his head and peers at you through his deep brown eyes.

“Me?!” There’s no way he’s serious; you brace yourself for the ‘gotcha’ or some other punchline he’ll inevitably toss your way.

To your surprise, there is none. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a total sucker for a goody-two shoes.” He stands up again, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing back and forth in the tiny room. “So, since I’m the guy that you…and you’re the girl that I…can I interest you in some of the finest hangover food this town has to offer?”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” You grimace at the tang of last night’s tequila that sticks to your molars. “Unless you also happen to be into girls with wicked morning breath.”

He chuckles, a true and hearty laugh, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. “Spare toothbrush is in the top drawer,” he says, pointing towards the bathroom. 

Once minty freshness has replaced stale booze, you wash the remnants of your makeup off of your face. You look a bit better; tired and hungover, but better.

Eddie’s dressed in ripped jeans and a faded concert tee, keys clenched in his palm. “Ready?” he asks, leaning against the bedroom doorway.

“Mhm.” You feel his hand ghost the small of your back as he leads you towards the front door, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

“Hey, by the way?” 

When you turn around, his lips are on yours. It’s soft and sweet, just a bit more than a peck, but you can tell it took every ounce of courage for him to do it. You both take a small step back, swapping shy grins.  

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

You take his empty hand and lace your fingers with his. “Does Corroded Coffin still play at the Hideout?”

“Every Tuesday at 8.”

“I’ll be there.”

--

[quintessenceofdust88]

Hello everyone! Here's the sequel for Oreos and Orange Juice (a.k.a the fluff piece with pregnant!Buck and Jee-Yun). Brought to you with extra doses of fluffiness (almot 2,000 words!) and uncle Tommy being the literal best!

It’s almost nine when Tommy finally drags himself through the door, throwing his keys in the bowl and being instantly met by the bright laughter of Jee-Yun coming from the kitchen, followed by Evan’s excited voice as he tells her a kid-friendly version of a funny rescue they performed the other day. 

Even though he’s exhausted from his shift, Tommy smiles. Jee-Yun is always a joy to have around, and the sweet child’s laughter echoing through the house gives him a wonderful glimpse of their future which is coming sooner and sooner. 

“Morning, you two” He says softly, entering the kitchen, and both of them look at him with the same excited eager Buckley signature smile. 

“Uncle Tommy!” Jee says, throwing herself against his legs, and Tommy easily lifts her into his hip. 

“Hi, princess Jee” Tommy greets her while crossing the kitchen to place a quick peck on Evan’s lips, and it’s deliciously domestic. He can’t wait for the day he’ll do it with their own kids, one twin in each arm. “How was your night? Did your uncle Evan let you up past your bedtime again?” He teases, and Jee’s giggle is all the confirmation he needs.

“Only a tiny bit, right, Jee?” Evan tells her with a wink as he slides a plate of pancakes in his direction, and Tommy could just about kiss him. He places Jee back in her chair and sits beside her. 

Evan joins them on the table with a bottle of syrup and, for some reason, a slice of cheese over his own chocolate chip pancakes. At this point, Tommy has learned better than to comment on his cravings, so he just presses a kiss to his cheek, earning a blinding smile in return.

“So how was your shift?” He asks Tommy, and he swallows the bite of pancake (delicious, as always; Tommy is absolutely spoiled by his husband's cooking) in his mouth before answering.

“It was okay, nothing major; two med-evacs. What about you guys, did you have fun?” He asks, and then tenderly nudges Jee's cheek, wanting to bring her into the conversation. “Did you take care of your uncle and the babies for me?” He asks her, expecting a small giggle. 

What he doesn’t expect is the excited gasp she lets out, swallowing her bite practically unchewed. 

“Uncle Tommy, you’re never gonna believe what the babies did last night!” She says excitedly, and Tommy can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. 

“What was that, princess?” He asks curiously, and she and Evan exchange a conspiratorial glance.

“They kicked my hand!” She answers, bouncing in her seat, unable to contain her joy. “It was just like when Kevin kicked Mama but there were two of them this time, it was so cool!”

“Wait, really?! That’s so special, Jee!” Tommy tells her, his heart fluttering warmly in his chest as he looks at Evan for confirmation. 

The babies hadn’t kicked before; they had started moving about two weeks prior, and the doctor said kicks would probably start any time now. He knows Evan has been impatient about it, almost as if he was expecting it to be a confirmation the babies were okay.

“It was just as we were falling asleep” Evan tells him, his smile wide as he caresses his bump and proudly speaks of the kicks. “They’d been pretty quiet during the day, but I guess Jee inspired them, didn’t you, Jee-bug?” 

“Yeah! Uncle Buck said they were telling me good night!” She recalls, her smile never leaving her face until she looks at Tommy, and then it falters slightly. “Oh, but! I'm sorry you weren't there, uncle Tommy! They're your babies too, I bet you wanted them to say good night to you first!”

And, well; even if Tommy is slightly disappointed to have missed it, he can't have Jee apologizing for it. He kneels down to her level, a kind smile on his face.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darlin’” He reassures her. “The babies will kick plenty of times, I'm sure. I'm glad they did it for the first time with you; it means they know they have the best big cousin in the world, don't they? Pretty smart babies if you ask me” He says with a wink, and Jee's smile can light up a whole firehouse.

“You're the best, uncle Tommy!” She throws her arms around his neck, and Tommy hugs her close to his chest for a few seconds before letting her happily return to her breakfast.

As he gets up and goes back to his own plate, Tommy glances at Evan, only to find him drying tears from his cheek. Tommy smiles teasingly at him, offering him a napkin; Evan takes it with a glare that loses all its effect because of the love in his eyes.

“I blame your children; they're making me hormonal” He says with a wet chuckle, and Tommy chuckles, pressing a kiss to his temple before sitting down.

“I blame the crying Buckley gene” Tommy teases. “I'll bet you anything that Maddie will cry when you tell her about the babies kicking for Jee”

“Oh, Mama will cry!” Jee pipes up, her face covered in syrup, and the two of them laugh at her certainty as Tommy bends over with a napkin to clean her face.

“See? And she's not pregnant anymore. It's the crying Buckley gene” Tommy reaffirms, and Evan shoves his shoulder playfully.

He chuckles and pays attention to his plate again, at least until he feels Evan's hand squeezing his. Tommy looks up to see him looking so earnestly at him that his heart skips a beat.

“I am sorry, though. That you missed it” He says, almost pouting, and Tommy finds it so adorable that he kisses it right away (Jee coos at them, and Tommy slightly blushes).

“Me too, a little. But you had the best company for it, sweetheart. And I'm sure they'll kick plenty of times before they're out here” He reassures him, and then tenderly places his hand on Evan's bump. “Hear that, little blobs? You kicked for Daddy and Jee-Yun, so no pressure, but if you wanna kick for Papa too…”

He keeps his hand on Evan’s bump for a while, and the three of them are silent, staring in expectation. Tommy’s about to lift his hand, making a joke about trying again at nighttime to clear the disappointment in Jee’s eyes, when he feels it. It’s a soft thing, almost like a tap against his hand, but it’s there. It’s one of their babies, moving around and pressing their tiny foot against Evan’s belly, and Tommy’s feeling it. Evan gasps in delight, clearly feeling it as well (duh, Kinard, he tells himself. If he can feel it, Evan has to be feeling it at least twice as strong), and his hand joins Tommy’s over his bump. 

“You guys really love your Papa’s attention, huh?” He teases, softly caressing his belly. “Hi, little blobs, Daddy’s glad to see you’re awake” He coos at his bump, and before either of them can say anything else, they’re joined by the little force of nature that is Jee-Yun Buckley-Han, her hand looking even tinier than it is when she puts it over her uncles’ massive ones.

“The babies are kicking again?! They’re saying hi to you, uncle Tommy!” She says excitedly, and Tommy feels the kick again, two this time, one beside the other, almost as if one twin is nudging the other to also say hi to their expectant family. 

“And to you, Jee. I keep telling you, they already love their big cousin” He tells her, and Jee presses a soft kiss to Evan’s belly. 

“I love you too, babies. When you’re out here, I’ll teach you lots of fun things, I promise!” She says excitedly, and Tommy doesn’t doubt it for a second. Apparently, neither does Evan. 

“They’ll be so lucky to have you, Jee” He whispers to her. “Just like I was lucky to have your Mama when I was a kid”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings, and Tommy reluctantly excuses himself to open it, but smiles when he sees Maddie on the other side. She pulls him into a hug, her usual way of greeting him by now, and Tommy can’t deny that he loves how she basically adopted him as her brother too. He grew up an only child, desperately wishing for a sister like Maddie; it feels good to have one now. 

“Hey! I was just going home from work and thought I’d pick up my little nuisance. She wasn’t too much trouble, was she?” Maddie asks, and Tommy closes the door behind them as she comes in. 

“None at all; in fact, she’s been a great help. Come see for yourself” He invites, and Maddie raises an eyebrow, but follows him into the kitchen. “Jee, look who’s here for you, princess” He announces, and both Jee and Evan look up, but this once, the little girl makes no move to run to her mother. 

“Mama! Come here! The babies are kicking! They’re saying hi!” She tells Maddie excitedly, and Tommy chuckles at how eagerly Maddie kneels down by Evan’s chair, her hands resting against her brother’s bump. “Uncle Tommy says they’re smart and know I’m the best big cousin, so they have to know you’re the best auntie too!” Her logic is sound, and Maddie sends Tommy a grateful look that has him blushing and rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“Hi, blobs” She says affectionately, and Tommy’s pretty proud of himself that the nickname stuck (he’s sure Evan isn’t). “It’s your auntie Maddie! Can you say hi? No pressure, though, I just thought-”

Tommy can tell the exact moment the babies respond to her voice, because both her and Evan gasp. They look at each other in that infuriating way of theirs, where it seems they hold an entire conversation through their gaze. Tommy may not know what they’re saying to each other, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before they get emotional. And… yeah, sure thing, before long both of them have tears running down their faces. 

And damn, he’s starting to think Buckley genes are contagious, because he has to dry his own eyes at the sight in front of him. This is bigger than him, Evan and their twins: it's family, like the ones from commercials or Hallmark movies, and Tommy never dreamt he could find himself in one of those.

He’s ridiculously happy that his children will be born surrounded by this much love. They have two doting parents, an honorary grandpa (Bobby's own words, and yes, Evan cried when he said it), a horde of very lovingly aunts and uncles, , and the most special big cousin in the world in Jee-Yun (not to mention Kevin and their other bunch of cousins, like Christopher, who texts Tommy at least twice a week to make sure he’s ‘taking care of Buck right’ and hangs out at their place at least twice more, wanting to make sure his Buck is okay). It's love, and caring, and what else could he wish for his little blobs?

Yeah, Tommy thinks; if there’s anything in the world worth shedding some tears for, this is certainly it.

[Also on AO3!]

[More from Little Blobs Verse]

Tag list: (let me know if you'd like to be removed or if I missed anyone! Also if anyone else wants to be tagged, either on my fics in general or just the Little Blobs' Verse, let me know! ♥)

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri  @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie 🩷🩷🩷

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Weedequitte

Asks are open my little giggle biscuits!

Scout

He hands that joint back WET

Slobber dripping off the sides, the tips cold when you go to take a puff, and you can see the corner of his mouth glisten

If Scout ever got high he would have munchies and get scared. He would have to go outside and walk around, maybe even hug a tree for comfort

Coughing and gagging in the most annoying way possible. Like that one cat picture with its protruding tongue and watery eyes void of complex thought

Scout couldn’t handle a bong. Just couldn’t. Stick to a cold can of bang! He might try to make a bong outta a bang can, but he won’t figure it out

Soldier

Do not give him weed.

Do not give him anything.

Dont give him any drug hes insane nuts bonkers and, yes, even bananas

He took acid once by mistake. Ended up in Europe a year after the war ended

Soldier is borderline on a good day but king will spiral into a drug induced psychosis. There will be bugs, skin, and a whole lot of paperwork for Medic

Wouldn’t even smoke he’s a total fucking narc too

Says devils lettuce

Demoman

Uses every weed euphemism known to man

Mary J is his fav. Kush, grass, gas, doubie, all of them

Approaches Sniper while the poor bastard making his trek between camper and civilization. Demo does an insinuating chuckle and says, ‘let’s make love to that wee lass Mary J’

Sniper starts running

He prefers drinking but this guy smoked some grass back in the day. Doesn’t fuck around and can pass a blunt without falling out

In half baked, Demo is the guy who gets munchies and accidentally kills the horse

Will smoke with Sniper and always provides what he can or hits a curtesy role, but he doesn’t pursue weed much and if snipes didn’t share, probably wouldn’t smoke

It does help the pain from his missing eye!

Pyro

One time, he got wild.

Pyro burned down an entire pot grow and was absolutely spazzing off that za rolling his way down the mountain

They were on the astral plane the entire hike down. Pyro crashed through the trees, crawled, laughed hysterically, cried, and vomited. Pyro drank water from a creek thinking it was the fountain of immortality

Pyro befrinded a squirrle named Banabo Jo. He knew Jo and knew his people were wise and brave. Banabo Jo recognized Pyro’s mystical capabilities and ability to see beyond, thus creating a mutual respect and brotherhood.

Banabo Jo guided Pyro from the mountain top and into the Heart of the Valley. He watched over as Pyro awaited rescue and gave the sacred squirrel farewell through the van window

(hypersensitive to drug induced psychosis)

Heavy

Rolls a blunt on Medic’s back and smokes it while they fuck

Smokes weed but only pipes. Very rarely will roll with paper, typically in the aforementioned situation

He can do some of the smoke tricks like puffing out O’s. He cannot french inhale and tbh has a chronic stuffy nose 😏

Medic

Wholeheartedly believe in and support the usage of medical marijuana

Smoked a little weed in university, but his classmates were too scared of him to invite him to the smoke sesh

He kinda gives off narc vibes!! Completely chill though, unless he could gain from blackmailing you

Asks if Sniper wants to puff and Sniper is shocked! Medic uses pompous words like oder tho and not the German oder

Arches his back so Heavy can sprinkle some flower on him for the roll-hole ritual

Engineer

Scene in Top Gun, “we’re in the spirit world asshole!” HIM OKAY HIM

Builds intricate and sick as fuck bong structures, dab rigs, and some real crazy stoner shit.

He love getting blazed and tinker with something, but that did cost him the tip of his pinkie finger

He’s a lightweight and really just skims a hit or two and bounces

Totally hotboxes that fucking workshop

Spy

He’s a classy kind of smoker

No weed inside, at least not his house. Very discreet about it and even if he was just in the world’s foggiest hotbox, he would never snell like week

No weed smell ever it’s incredible

Mainly sticks to cigarettes but he will smoke with Sniper.

Smoking, whether it be weed or cigarettes, is a form of foreplay for them fr

He never has cotton mouth either

Sniper!!

Save the best for last bc he is a canon pothead

Sniper just tries to be a chill guy. Go to work, fire a gun, smoke some weed. Would he like more? Sure. But is he okay where he’s at? Good enough

The first to discover his gardening habit was Spy. The whole breaking and entering thing really gives away secrets

Sniper has SO MUCH TEA. Various team members come to him and smoke, which is cool with him. He prefers when they replenish his stash, though. Or at least give him something in return

When they smoke they also complain. Inhibitions are dropped and suddenly Sniper knows that Demo is pissed at Medic for not letting him drink rubbing alcohol, every though Demo knew it would kill him, because he and Pyro were trying to light a burp on fire

He only enjoys smoking with Spy and Ms. Pauling. Pauling is fun and they talk mad shit together, maybe do something stupid on a minor scale

Spy and Sniper venture into the bush if yk what im saying. Weed is just kinda a plus but Spy can get too zesty sometimes

[jamesmydeer]

Hey! I have an idea for a Remus x fem!reader. They volunteer to babysit Neville and Harry(both James, Lily and Frank, Alice are ok) and kids try to set them up, get them to play games like Reader being a princess who they have to rescue and Remus - the knight, who has to kiss her (smth like Sleeping Beauty).

true love’s kiss

notes: if you can’t tell, i love writing dialogue.

wc: 2.8k

masterlist

Laughter filled the Potter household as James hoisted his son, Harry, and the Longbottom’s boy, Neville onto his shoulders. Harry threw his fists into the air, obviously used to his father’s antics. Neville gripped onto James’ arm and held on for his life.

“Potter and Longbottom have done it again! The quidditch cup goes to Gryffindor! The crowd goes wild,” he yells, bouncing up and down as if he were celebrating a big win from back in his quidditch days.

“Inside voice, James Potter,” Lily remarked, entering the room with her purse in hand and James’ coat thrown over her shoulder. He groaned and rolled his eyes playfully. “Fine.”

The boys giggled as James pretended to drop them and quietly mimicked the loud murmur of a crowd.

Lily plopped her stuff down on the table and turned to Alice, who was making sure Neville had everything he needed in his bag.

“Okay, I’ve got all my stuff, Frank is laying out the boys’ pajamas, James cast a protective spell on the house, I think we’re good to go!” She turned to look at the clock on the wall. “Remus should be here any minute now.”

“Uncle Moony!” Harry cheered, having overheard his mom’s conversation. “He’ll give us lots of chocolate. Just don’t tell my mom,” he informed Neville who nodded his head eagerly, pretending to zip his lips shut.

Alice turned to Lily with a confused look on her face as she queried, “You asked Remus to babysit?”

James walked towards the pair and grabbed his coat from Lily, kissing her cheek. “Well yeah Alice, leaving them with Sirius would be as good as leaving them alone.”

“It’s not that, I just thought I was supposed to find someone to watch them. Y/n is on her way.”

“Aunt Y/n!” both the young boys cheered. They couldn’t believe their luck at having two babysitters instead of one. Alice, on the other hand, was not as pleased with her mess up. She brought her hands up and covered her face as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. Two for the price of one,” James joked, slipping his coat on. He paused momentarily. “Except we’re not paying them, right?”

"We might have to pay Y/n if Remus loads them up with sugar," Frank chuckled, entering the room and throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“Maybe the boys can play matchmaker,” Lily raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Give them that little push they need.”

“The one they’ve needed since third year?” Alice adds. A knock at the door had everyone’s heads turning. James turned to walk toward the door, but the boys beat him to it.

“We’ll get it!” Neville exclaimed, racing Harry to the door. They opened it and you scooped them up immediately, playfully tickling them.

“How are my favorite boys in the whole world?” you asked, pinching their cheeks which earned a groan from both of them.

“You better not let Moony hear you say that. He might get jealous,” James teased. You rolled your eyes at James and set the boys down. You had just stepped foot in his house and he was already teasing you about your crush.

“Well it’s a good thing he’s not here, isn’t it?”

Lily and Frank looked at you apologetically, Frank sucking in through his teeth. James and Alice shared a similar expression of holding back laughter.

Your face dropped. “What did you do?”

James grabbed you and pulled you into the kitchen, Lily following suit. “So there may have been a wee bit of confusion on our part,” Lily starts to explain.

“No no no, this is a good thing!” James started, attempting to keep the situation strictly positive. He gripped your shoulders and looked into your eyes as if he was about to give you a pep talk. “You get to be alone with Remus for a whole afternoon. When was the last time you two were alone together?”

Lily was about to chime in that they would be watching his son, not alone, when there was a knock at the door.

“There’s your Moony,” James teased. He smoothed out your hair, jokingly making sure you looked good for Remus. He had known about your little crush since third year, but he still acted as if it were a big deal.

“You see him all the time Y/n. Just act like you always do around him,” Lily rubbed your shoulder comfortingly, then exited the kitchen to greet the second babysitter. You turned to follow her but stopped momentarily to punch James in the arm.

Lily opened the door for Remus who kissed her on the cheek. “Where’s the little tyke? Haven’t seen him all week,” he moved into the living room looking for Harry but was met with another familiar face.

He straightened up at the sight of you, his features softening slightly as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I didn’t know you were fifth wheeling with these guys tonight,” he joked, butterflies filling his stomach as you laughed at him.

“I’m not. They’ve started a babysitters' club and were the only two members.”

Remus looked between the two couples who just shrugged at him.

“Do you four not communicate?” Remus scolded playfully. Hearing his voice, Harry ran into the room and jumped into his arms. Remus threw him in the air and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re lucky I like Remus,” you quipped. “Had it been someone else, I would’ve gone straight back out that door.”

James snuck a quick look at Remus and wiggled his eyebrows. He walked towards him and took Harry, all the while leaning in to whisper in his ear teasingly “She said she likes youuuu.”

Had James not been holding his son, Remus would have shoved him.

“I’m sorry you guys, I’ve just been so scatterbrained lately,” Lily apologized, kissing both of your cheeks in passing as she headed to the table to grab her purse.

You both reassured Lily that it was okay and both couples were ushered out of the door by their excited children.

“We love you, Harry, behave!”

“Mind your manners, Neville!”

The boys shut the door behind their parents and turned to each other. Neville winked at Harry in a way that looked a lot more like an exaggerated scrunch of his face. Harry nodded and scurried back into the living room, Neville a few steps behind him.

“Aunt Y/n, will you read to us?” Harry begged. Neville assisted by giving you the cutest pleading eyes you had ever seen. And although they looked adorable, you couldn’t help but think they were up to something.

You shot Remus a confused smile at the boy's behavior. He just shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. “Of course, she will. You boys go pick out a book.”

You giggled as they scurried away towards Harry’s room. You turned to Remus, who was already looking your way, a soft smile on his face. A blush ran up his face as he averted eye contact and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I can go make them a snack while you read,” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. He wanted to stay and listen to your pretty voice, but he was discouraged at the idea of you catching him staring again. 

“What? You don’t want to stay and hear me read the story they pick?” you pouted playfully.

Remus bit back a smile, pretending that he was having to think about it. On cue, the boys came running back in with their choice of book and settled on the couch beside you. They looked expectantly at Remus.

“Well, make room for me.” You met his eyes and smiled brightly at his statement. You grabbed the book from Harry’s little hands.

“Hmm, Sleeping Beauty. This is a very good pick.”

Harry and Neville snuggled into either side of you as you read. Remus observed the way you animatedly told the story. The way your lips moved with each word had him in a trance. It reminded him of how he used to sit in the library, hopelessly watching you study with a lovesick smile. He closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like if you read to him—just him.

Before he knew it, he was being shaken out of his trance by two eager little boys. The story was over and they needed something else to entertain them.

“Uncle Moony, will you please be the prince? Please please please?” Harry begged, holding his hands together in front of his face. Remus couldn’t help but scoff, seeing so much of his father in him. He looked at you for help as to what exactly they were asking him.

You giggle at the boys. “They want to play knights, Remus. They need a prince,” you playfully cleared up his confusion. He smiled at you and turned back to the boys.

“Oh, I see now,” he nodded his head in understanding. “And why do I have to be the prince?”

Harry and Neville shared a look as if the question was absurd. Remus could sense them growing impatient, so he stood up and allowed them to drag him away. He turned back to you and playfully mouthed ‘help’. You giggled and he couldn’t help the feeling of pride that came along with making you laugh.

Harry stopped and ran back towards you. He stood on his tiptoes and cupped his hand to the side of his mouth. You leaned down and craned your neck for him to whisper in your ear, a skill he hadn’t quite honed yet. “You’re the princess. Pretend to be in a deep sleep like Aurora.”

You pulled away and Remus held back a laugh as you wiped your ear. You mouthed an ‘OK’ and he ran back towards Remus to drag him away.

Once alone, you couldn’t help but ponder Remus’ question about having to be the prince. He was always like a prince to you. A blush creeps up your neck as you recall all the books you read about princes, and how you pictured them as Remus every time. The longer you thought about it, you realized that you pictured him as the love interest in every book you read.

You could hear them rustling around upstairs in Harry’s bedroom. You imagined how Remus looked playing along with them. How the sleeves of his sweater were pushed up. The way his eyes would crinkle as he laughed along with the boys. How soft his voice would get comforting them if they got hurt.

It got quiet for a moment, and you almost stood up to go check on them. Suddenly, there were three sets of footsteps running down the stairs. You quickly laid down and shut your eyes, trying to hold back a smile.

The ‘knights’ rushed in and kneeled at your side. Remus stayed back, standing in the doorway. His chest rose and fell in a soft sigh as he studied your ‘sleeping’ figure. He took advantage of the situation and allowed his eyes to linger. He noticed the corners of your mouth twitch and he felt his stomach do a flip.

Neville put his hand to your forehead to ‘check your pulse’, to which you could hear Remus softly blow air out of his nose. He moved from the doorway to kneel beside them whispering, “If only we had read a book that told us what to do to wake her up.”

“A kiss!” Neville exclaimed, earning a harsh shush from Harry. Neville giggled and whispered the same words again. Remus ruffled his hair and nodded down at the boy.

“That’s a good idea, Sir Neville. Try it and see if it works.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the soft voice Remus used with the boys. You always admired how the marauders played with Harry, but there was something extra special about the way Remus did it. He was so gentle and encouraging with them.

Neville began to lean in to kiss your cheek but was stopped by Harry’s small hand on his lips. He shot Neville a look that reminded Remus so much of the one Lily gave James when he says something stupid.

“True loves' kiss, Sir Neville! Remember?” he asked, the last word spoken through gritted teeth as if he was conveying something secret. Neville's face changed to one of understanding, before scooting over and making room. Harry turned to his beloved uncle Moony,

Remus’ eyes widened and his cheeks flushed immediately. His first thought was how much he wanted to, but his second was how much he couldn’t kiss you right now. Not while he’s playing pretend. This scenario had played out in his head over a thousand times and none of them involved children.

Remus shook his head and went to stand up, but Harry grabbed his hand. “But you’re the prince! You have to save the princess!”

You opened one eye and could visibly see how nervous poor Remus was. Since he had the boys’ attention, you took the opportunity to reach for his hand. He startled at the touch, then relaxed when your eyes met. You nodded at him softly as if to tell him it’s okay, just play along.

And you had meant that he could just pretend to kiss you. You figured he didn’t want to and was uncomfortable at the thought. That was not how Remus understood it. Remus took your actions as an okay to kiss you.

He blushed and squeezed between the two boys who were watching in anticipation. He leaned down so that his face was hovering over yours, and you felt his hair fall against your cheek.

Before you could start acting, you felt his lips graze the corner of your mouth. Your eyes snapped open as the younger boys both cheered. Remus pulled back suddenly and looked down at you horrified. Had you not wanted him to kiss you? You brought your hand up to touch the place his lips just had.

Before Remus could see your face break out into a smile, he abruptly stood. “Tell Y/n goodnight,” he stated, turning away from you and waiting. Both boys kissed your cheeks and followed Remus up to Harry’s room.

—————————————————————

Remus entered the kitchen to see you sitting on the counter drinking out of a mug. You offered him one, but she shook his head. He didn’t want it to throw him off the apology he had just rehearsed over and over.

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” he started, running a stressed hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I thought that was okay. I clearly misinterpreted what you meant and I hope you can forgive me.”

“Mus,” you called softly. He turned to you, making eye contact for the first time since the kiss. “Come here.”

He walked towards you slowly, as if he were a scared animal. The smile you gave him has the crease between his eyebrows relaxing. You motioned for him to come closer. He listened to you and slotted himself between your legs.

You slowly moved your hand to the back of his neck, lightly running your fingers through his hair—something you had wanted to do since you felt it against your cheek earlier. The other hand rested on his broad shoulder. He leaned down and placed his head in the crook of your neck to hide his blush.

“If I didn’t want you to kiss me, I would have stopped the game.”

You felt Remus nod against your neck, his eyelashes tickling your skin. He places his hands on your waist, rubbing his thumbs slowly against the fabric of your sweater. He retracted his head from your neck, choosing instead to lean against your forehead.

“Can I do it again?” he whispered shakily. You could feel his breath against your lips as he looked at you with pleading eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. His hands tightened on your waist as he eagerly crashed his lips against yours. You tugged on his soft strands and he groaned against your lips, pulling you flush against him.

He pulled away with a sigh, keeping his eyes closed and resting his forehead against yours. He started laughing and you were brought back to reality. Your face grew hot and you removed your hands from his hair.

“What?” you pulled back to get a better look at him. He opened his eyes and shook his head, unable to control his laughter.

“Remus, what?” you whined. He brought his hands up to cup your face and kissed you softly again. This kiss was much shorter, but you felt the same amount of butterflies in your stomach.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

+

"They kissed? Blimey, you exceeded my expectations kid," chuckled Sirius, handing Harry the new toy motorbike he had promised him for playing matchmaker.

“8 years. We tried to set them up for 8 years and my son does it in an afternoon.”

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: Chapter Two

The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: You are being courted by Morpheus, one of the seven Endless. Then you get stood up on your date, and find out the shocking reason why.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader, Destiny = Russian Blue, Death = Sphinx, Dream = Mainecoon, Desire = Bombay, Despair = Exotic Shorthair, Delirium = Bengal.

Word Count: ~4.1k

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It's chaos. The moment you get home, you release the Endless into your house and instantly regret doing so. Instead of having a civilized conversation between one mortal human and six Endless, Desire picks a fight with Dream. As they start hissing and clawing at each other, you chase after them to break it up. In the mean time Delirium bounces off the walls and tears across the carpet, investigating every inch of your living room with exuberance. The only ones behaving are Destiny, Death, and Despair, who simply sulks where you had placed her.

“Would you two knock it off!” you shout at the two hissing cats, grabbing their scruffs and pulling them apart in a mess of claws and pulled cat hair. “You are Endless beings, act like it!”

Desire goes limp in your hold while Morpheus turns his eyes to you and gives you the most pitiful kitten gaze you have ever seen.

Beloved…

“Don’t you ‘beloved’ me, Morpheus,” you grouse at him. “I have six Endless in my home on top of a missed date!” At the mention of the missed date, Morpheus' ears droop and he too goes slack from where he half dangles, half sits on the floor, despair taking over his body as he remembers that he missed your date. You were left waiting for him, only to need to come and help him yet again!

Desire snickers and you shoot them a glare that quickly shuts them up and has their golden eyes looking away from your narrowed ones.

You drop both cats back to the floor and lean back on your shins, running your hand over your head. Desire begins to lick their ruffled fur like nothing happened while Morpheus sidles up to you to grovel for his folly. His large form brushes against your legs, his eyes wide and remorseful.

Forgive me, beloved, he says with every piteous look and excessive nuzzle. You sigh, reaching down to scratch between his ears and feel your frustration ebb away slightly. It’s not like he intentionally ditched you and turned into a cat.

“I know it’s not your fault, Morpheus,” you murmur, letting your fingers trail through his thick fur to smooth the places Desire bit at. “I just wasn’t expecting to play cat sitter for the entire Endless family today.” Then your eyes turn to look around the room.

Delirium has found a ball of yarn from the basket of abandoned crocheting projects and is batting it around with wild abandon, tangling herself up in the process. Despair lounges on the sofa, her expression one of mild disinterest. At least they haven't gotten into anything you’re aware of.

Destiny sits regally by the window, his tail twitching as he seems to gaze into the distance. How exactly? He’s an eyeless cat? Death, ever the calm presence, has settled herself in a sunny spot on the floor, watching the proceedings with a twitching nose.

"Matthew's going to have a field day with this," you mutter, imagining the raven's reaction when he finds out that you took all of them home. But what else were you going to do? It’s not like you were just going to leave the Endless cats at the rescue shelter. "Okay, let's try to make the best of this."

I will assist, Morpheus meows softly. He follows closely as you move to scoop up the now thoroughly tangled Delirium. The young Endless purrs loudly, oblivious to the mess she has made of the yarn.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” you say, gently untangling her. She gives you a look with those mismatched eyes and you can’t help but smile. “Okay, everyone, let’s try to settle down. It’s been a long day.”

You set Delirium down and turn your attention to the rest of the room. “Desire, please try not to antagonize your brother. And Morpheus, stop letting them get under your fur. Death, Destiny, thank you for behaving, you are exemplary guests and I am honored to have you in my home. Despair... just try to keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

Desire gives a lazy stretch and saunters over to the corner, looking bored but no longer in the mood for a fight. Morpheus stays by your side, his eyes still full of apologies and pitifulness. You move to the kitchen, Morpheus padding after you.

“Let’s get some food in all of you. Maybe that will help calm things down.” In your kitchen, you grab six bowls and line them up on your kitchen counter before grabbing your large mixing bowl and filling it with water. You have no idea if they’ll want or need to eat, let alone drink water, but having something to do makes you feel a little more in control of the situation.

So setting the water bowl down, you go to your fridge and open it up, slowly realizing that you don’t own a cat and therefore don’t have cat food. Would they even eat cat food? Probably not? Your eyes spot the Tupperware full of the shredded chicken you had pulled from the rotisserie chicken you had picked up from the market the prior day and you grab that. Chicken is better than nothing you suppose.

As you prepare a meal for your unexpected guests, you can’t help but marvel at the absurdity of it all. Here you are, a mortal human, trying to manage six of the most powerful beings in existence—currently in cat form. It’s almost laughable. Almost.

With chicken in each of the six bowls, you set them down on the floor as one by one, the cats approach. Delirium, of course, makes a game of it, batting her food out of the bowl before finally eating it. Desire and Despair eat with an air of disinterest and great reluctance (though the reluctance mostly comes from Desire), while Destiny and Death remain calm and composed. They simply sit and eat like normal cats.

 Morpheus stays close to you, eating quickly before returning to your side and once again, rubbing his cheeks against your shins. Clingy much?

“Did you even taste that chicken?” You ask your boyfriend as he weaves between your legs.

While I appreciate the sentiment you have to provide sustenance for us, we do not need to consume food, beloved. Morpheus responds, tilting his head up so you can see his starry gaze staring into your soul. Even as a cat you can’t help but be enamored by his eyes.

“This isn’t for you, it’s for me,” you say, shifting your weight. “Treating you as cats makes me feel less insane about this.”

Leaving the kitchen you head back to your living room and collapse onto the couch, feeling the full weight of the day finally come crashing down on your shoulders. While you try to clear your mind, Morpheus jumps up beside you and promptly makes himself home on your lap with a contented purr. You stroke his fur absently, your mind whirling with everything that happened.

Missed date. Six Endless Cats.

Your eyes flutter open to look at the cats filling your home. Delirium has finally exhausted herself and is now curled up in the ball of yarn, looking every bit the picture of innocence. Desire lounges in the corner, eyes half-closed, while Despair and Death share the fading sunny spot on the floor. Destiny has returned to the window, his unseeing gaze distant and contemplative.

"You know," you say softly while running your fingers along Morpheus’ spine, "when I imagined meeting your family, this isn't exactly how I pictured it."

Be at ease. Destiny speaks, turning his head to set his sightless, and eyeless, gaze on you.

"Easy for you to say," you mutter, though the corner of your mouth twitches into a reluctant smile.

We appreciate your hospitality, Death adds. She stretches out luxuriously in the minimal sunbeam, her eyes half-closed while she soaks in the dying sunlight.

Despair's eyes flick toward you briefly before she resumes her blank stare. It's not often we are all together like this, she says morosely. Her voice carries an undercurrent of sorrow that tugs at your heart. She is Despair, after all.

"Yeah, well, next time let's try for a less chaotic gathering," you reply, scratching behind Morpheus' ears. He leans into your touch, his purring growing louder. "Everyone is going to think I'm crazy and wonder why I don't have absorbent amounts of cat shit in my garbage. It would be chaos trying to explain that."

Delirium perks up at the mention of chaos, her eyes bright with mischief. But chaos is fun! she exclaims, batting at a stray piece of yarn. We should do this more often!

Desire rolls their eyes but says nothing, clearly uninterested in the conversation. Instead, they focus on grooming their sleek fur with meticulous arrogance.

"You all have such... unique personalities," you observe. "It’s fascinating… but also very exhausting."

Morpheus nuzzles your hand affectionately. They are my family, beloved.

"Yeah, I get that," you say softly. "And I’m starting to understand why you’ve been so secretive about them. It's a bit overwhelming, I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

Destiny tilts his head, his expression inscrutable as his nose twitches. You handle this well for a mortal, he notes.

"Well, I've had some practice," you reply with a chuckle. "Morpheus isn’t exactly low-maintenance and one of my best friends is a talking bird."

I heard that. Morpheus’s tone is playful and you can’t help but giggle softly.

“You were meant to,” you respond, trailing your fingers between his ears. “Anyone up for a movie night? I need a distraction.”

Delirium's eyes light up with excitement. Ooh! I love movies! Can we watch something colorful and weird?

"Sure thing," you agree, reaching for the remote. "How about 'Alice in Wonderland'?"

As the credits of "Alice in Wonderland" roll, you stretch and stifle a yawn. The Endless cats are sprawled across various parts of the room. Delirium is still curled up in a ball of yarn, her eyes half-closed in contentment after chattering all through the movie in happiness. Death and Despair share a quiet corner, Desire once again grooms themself. Destiny has returned to the window perch, lost in thought.

You rise from the couch, feeling exertion tugging at your mind. "I need some alone time," you mutter, extracting a grumbling Morpheus from your lap and making your way to the bathroom. The prospect of a long, luxurious bubble bath sounds like heaven.

Morpheus follows you, once again refusing to depart from your side with Desire in your vicinity. Beloved, where are you going?

"I need a break," you reply, trying to keep your voice light. "Just some time to unwind."

But... His eyes are wide and imploring. Pleading.

"Not this time, Morpheus," you say firmly, closing the bathroom door behind you before he can blast you with the full power of his starry kitten eyes. You hear a soft thump as he settles outside, clearly displeased with being locked out. He scratches at the door halfheartedly but once again, you pretend not to hear him.

Ignoring his protests, you turn your attention to the bath. You run hot water, adding bubblebath until the air is thick with fragrant steam. The tub fills quickly and soon you have a steamy oasis of calm waiting for you.

Slipping into the warm water, you let out a sigh of relief. The tension in your muscles begins to melt away as the bubbles envelop you and pop against your flesh. You lean back and close your eyes, trying to take what solitude you’ll get in the next few days.

A soft rustling breaks through your reverie. You open your eyes just in time to see Morpheus' sleek form slipping through the slightly ajar door. How did he even open it? Then your eyebrow rises when he ensures to shut it behind him with his paws.

"Seriously?" you exclaim, sitting up slightly and feeling hot, bubbly water splash your body.

I dislike being separated from you, beloved. His tone is unapologetic as he pads over to the edge of the tub and sniffs the air.

You roll your eyes but can't help a small smile. "Fine, but you're staying on that side. I am not drying you if you get wet.”

So Morpheus sits dutifully by the tub's edge, his eyes never leaving yours. Or your beautiful body, he can take solace in his current situation that he at least get’s to spend intimate time with you now.

"You're impossible," you murmur, sinking back into the bubbles. But there's no real annoyance in your voice—just a resigned affection for this stubborn Endless cat who refuses to let you be alone for even a moment.

And as the warmth of the bath seeps into your skin and Morpheus’ steady gaze remains fixed on you, for once today everything feels... okay. For now. Damn it mind!

You soak in the tub until the water starts to cool, then decide it's time to get out. You stand and reach for a towel, wrapping it around yourself as you step onto the mat. Morpheus watches you with those unblinking eyes, still perched by the tub. You dry your hair as best as you can before moving to the sink counter where your sleep clothes wait.

“Morpheus, will the Dreaming be alright while you are gone?” You ask him while pulling your underwear on followed by your sleep shorts. Morpheus blinks at you before jumping down from the edge of the tub and brushing his cheek against your bare leg, his whiskers ticking your skin.

Matthew will have informed Lucienne of my current situation and that I am in your hands. Do not worry, beloved. As Morpheus finishes speaking, you pull on your sleep shirt and let out a sigh. That’s one worry taken care of.

“Okay, we’ll just make sure that everyone stays safe and is taken care of until you turn back into your usual forms.” You softly muse, rubbing your cheek. “I can do that, I can do that.”

Morpheus bunts his head against your arm with a purr and run your fingers over his silky head one last time before turning around and leaving the bathroom. Stepping into the hallway, you notice that the house is still quiet, the other Endless seemingly settled for the night. You head towards the living room where they are scattered about.

“Okay everyone,” you announce softly. “I’m going to bed. If you need anything, that’s where I’ll be.”

Death looks up from her spot on the floor and gives you a little chin lift with a twitch of her nose and twinkling eyes. Rest well.

Desire barely acknowledges you, too busy grooming their fur. Delirium is already fast asleep in her yarn cocoon. You’ll leave that mess of yarn until she is back to her normal form, she seems to like playing with it. Destiny offers a solemn nod from his place by the window and Despair merely blinks at you.

You turn to head to your bedroom with Morpheus on your heels. Thankfully, he doesn’t risk your wrath by weaving around your feet in reverence.

Pushing open your bedroom door you step inside, eyes zeroing on your bed. The bed looks inviting, like a treat after such an eventful day. You pull back the covers and let Morpheus jump up onto the bed before sliding in after him. You settle in, pulling the covers over your body and curl on your side as Morpheus turns in a circle by your chest before plopping down. His purring starts up almost immediately and the vibrations helps ease any remaining tension from your muscles.

“Goodnight, Morpheus,” you murmur, closing your eyes and stretching your arm around his large body to snuggle him against your body.

Goodnight, beloved his thoughts brush gently against yours as he nestles closer. The rhythmic sound of his purring lulls you into a peaceful state, and it takes mere seconds for you to slip into the dreaming.

You wake up to the sensation of being smothered by warmth and fur. As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself surrounded by a pile of feline bodies. But it's the low growl that catches your attention.

Turning your head, you see Morpheus baring his teeth at Desire, who has draped themselves lazily across your legs, their eyes half-closed in smugness. Desire’s fur brushes against your skin as they shift slightly, completely unbothered by Morpheus’s hostility.

“Morpheus, what's going on?” you whisper, trying not to disturb the delicate balance of cats sprawled around you. Destiny is loafing perfectly, ignoring the growls of Morpheus, Death is curled up in a ball surrounded by bunched blankets, even Despair is lounging without a care.

Desire oversteps, Morpheus growls through the bond you share. His hackles are raised

Desire looks up. Relax, brother. I'm just enjoying the warmth.

Morpheus' eyes narrow further, his growl deepening. “Hey, both of you,” you say softly but firmly. “Let’s keep it civil. No cat fights on my bed, my home is Switzerland, capisce?”

Desire purrs softly and stretches out further, making themselves even more comfortable. See? They don’t mind, they say with a smirk.

Morpheus' fur bristles slightly, muscles still taught, but he doesn’t move or growl any further. You reach out and gently scratch behind his ears, hoping to soothe him. He leans into your touch, but his gaze remains locked on Desire.

“Come on, Desire,” you sigh. “There’s enough room for everyone. Stop intentionally picking a sight, please.”

Desire yawns dramatically and finally shifts off your legs, moving to a different spot on the bed with exaggerated grace. Fine, they say with a hint of amusement in their voice. I’ll let Morpheus have his precious space with you.

You feel the tension in Morpheus ease as Desire settles elsewhere. You can't help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all—navigating sibling rivalry among the Endless in cat form is not something you ever expected to be doing. But who does?

With Desire now at a safe distance and Morpheus calming down beside you, you let out a relieved breath. You close your eyes again and slump back against your sheets. It is going to be a long day.

000000000xxxxxxxx00000

You sit on the living room floor, gently working a brush through Morpheus' long, silky coat. He purrs softly, eyes half-closed in bliss from your attention and ministration. Beside you, Death lounges on the couch, her hairless sphinx form relaxed as she watches you work.

There's this little diner downtown, Death says, her voice thoughtful. They have the best pancakes I've ever had. The cook puts a hint of vanilla in the batter.

"Sounds delicious," you reply, carefully untangling a knot in Morpheus' fur. "I’ll have to check it out sometime."

Death smiles. You should. And there's a coffee shop nearby that makes amazing lattes. The barista is an artist with foam.

You laugh softly, shaking your head in amusement. "I'll add it to my list."

Morpheus shifts slightly under your touch, his purring growing louder as you continue to brush him. His fur is a never-ending cascade of midnight black, soft and luxurious under your fingers. He is just so damn pretty.

"Alright, I think we're done here," you say, setting the brush aside and giving Morpheus one last pat. He stretches out lazily before hopping off your lap and finding a sunny spot to sit in. You turn your attention to Death, who watches you with an amused glint in her eyes.

"Your turn," you say, rising to your feet and grabbing a towel from the nearby chair.

Death tilts her head slightly, a curious expression on her face. What do you mean?

"You need a bath," you explain gently. "Your skin needs some care too. Your breed needs a bath once a week because you don't have hair to keep your body oils from spreading everywhere and stinking. Or at least that is what I read. Worry not, I have bought you a shower cap."

You scoop Death into your arms, feeling her warm body relax against you. She doesn’t protest as you carry her to the bathroom, her eyes glinting with mild curiosity. The other cats watch with varying degrees of interest and amusement.

Setting her down on the bathroom counter, you turn on the faucet and let the water warm up. Death sits calmly, her eyes following your every move.

“Alright, let’s get you ready,” you say, reaching for the cat shower cap you bought just for her. It’s a soft lavender color with tiny flowers on it—adorable and practical. “It’s bad for cats to get water in their ears, this should prevent that.”

Death tilts her head slightly as you gently place the cap over her ears, securing it snugly around her head. Her whiskers twitch, but she remains still.

“There we go,” you tell her with a smile. “Ready for your bath?”

She blinks slowly in response and nods.

You carefully lift her and lower her into the sink, letting the warm water run over her skin. She purrs softly, clearly enjoying the sensation.

Oh this is quite nice. You chuckle softly as you pour water onto her back with a cup while rubbing her velvet skin. Once she is fully wet, you reach for the gentle cat shampoo and lather it into your hands before massaging it into her skin.

Death’s purring grows louder as you work, your fingers moving in slow, soothing circles. The scent of lavender fills the air, mixing with the steam from the warm water. You rinse off the shampoo, making sure every bit of suds is gone before turning off the faucet.

Grabbing a fluffy towel, you wrap Death up and lift her from the sink. She looks up at you with those wise eyes as you gently pat her dry. The shower cap stays in place, adding an endearing touch to her appearance.

“You did great,” you say softly, rubbing the towel along her back and sides. “All clean and fresh, and hopefully not demeaning for an Endless”

Death purrs contentedly as you finish drying her off. It is an honor to receive such care from a mortal, Y/N, thank you.

“You’re under my care while in cat form, no problem,” you tell her before reaching up and carefully removing the shower cap. She stretches luxuriously, her skin twitching as she moves.

You find yourself sitting on the living room floor, eyes locked onto Despair. Her gray, matted fur and somber eyes reflect her namesake, while Desire’s sleek, immaculate coat glimmers with an otherworldly sheen. You feel a twinge of tension from Morpheus as you extend a hand towards Despair.

“Hey there,” you say softly, scratching behind her ears. She leans into your touch, her purring low and almost mournful.

Desire watches with an amused expression, their eyes half-lidded. It’s rare to see someone willingly spend time with Despair, they muse, their voice smooth as silk.

“Everyone needs a little comfort,” you reply, glancing at Morpheus. He shifts slightly, his gaze narrowing. “And despair is a part of life. I wouldn’t be human without it.”

How noble, Desire purrs, stretching out lazily. Perhaps you’d like to spend some time with me next? I promise I’m much more entertaining.

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. “Sure, Desire.”

Despair’s eyes flicker with a hint of sadness as you move your attention to Desire. You reach out and run your fingers through their sleek fur, feeling the soft warmth beneath your touch. All that grooming does pay off it seems.

Morpheus’ agitation grows palpable through your bond. He stands up and starts pacing back and forth, his tail flicking in irritation. Flashes of blazing starry novas emerge in his gaze every so often.

“Relax,” you murmur to him, trying to soothe his unease.

Desire purrs louder under your touch, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction. See? Isn’t this much better?

“It’s different,” you admit, glancing at Morpheus again. His restlessness tugs at your heart. This has to be so hard for him.

Despair shifts slightly closer to you once more, silently wanting more attention and pets. You humor her. Morpheus finally stops pacing and sits down heavily beside you. His frustration is clear in the way he huffs softly but he doesn’t say anything.

Desire chuckles softly. Looks like someone’s feeling left out.

“Come here,” you say gently to Morpheus, patting the spot beside you.

He reluctantly moves closer until he’s nestled against your side. You can feel his tension slowly easing as he presses into you for reassurance.

Despair continues to lean into your touch on one side while Desire purrs contentedly on the other. Morpheus finally relaxes completely against you, his earlier agitation melting away as he finds comfort in your presence amidst his siblings.

Date Published: 11/20/24

Last Edit: 11/20/24

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