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nehi-soda · 1 day

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Bound in Bloom -

Jackson!Joel Miller x Breeding Kink x Female Reader

Explicit; Minors DNI 18+ only.

Summary: Joel Miller never thought he’d find peace, not after all the years of running, fighting, and surviving. But here you were, standing in the kitchen of the farmhouse, the soft swell of your belly beneath his favorite sundress on his birthday.

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: farmhouse!joel, dad!joel, homestead!joel, huge breeding kink, established relationship, pregnancy, talk about your body changing, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of P in V sex, creampie, smut, fluff, soft!joel, pet names (baby, darlin'). No use of Y/N. Mood board is for aesthetics only; the reader's features aren't specified.

A/N: I just know this would be Joel's DREAM, so I wanted to gift it to him for his birthday (and you cannot tell me this man does not have a breeding kink (Yes, Joel, you can keep me barefoot and pregnant, sweetie). (spoiler coming up?) Also, in this universe, Joel and reader moved out of Jackson and live in the farmhouse that Dina and Ellie live in at the end of pt 2.

for @justagalwhowrites' joel miller birthday celebration

The soft morning light filtered through the kitchen window, painting everything with a golden haze. The sweet smell of cake filled the room as you stood at the sink, hands submerged in warm, soapy water, humming to yourself as you scrubbed the last of the cake mix off the various utensils. The worn farmhouse floor creaked beneath your bare feet, familiar and comforting. The air outside was still and quiet, except for the occasional rustle of the wind through the tall grass surrounding the house.

It was peaceful out here. Away from the chaos, from Jackson, from all of it. Joel had finally given in to the idea of a quieter life. After years of running, fighting, and surviving, he got what he'd wanted— a simple life. And you, you were part of that dream, tethered to him in ways you’d never been able to escape since the moment you met him.

Your little floral sundress clung to you a little differently now, tighter around your hips and shorter than it used to be, the fabric barely grazing mid-thigh. The hem lifted just slightly as you shifted, the soft cotton pulling tighter across the swell of your belly. You absently brushed your hand over the curve.

You didn’t expect to outgrow your clothes so quickly, but the last few weeks had caught you off guard. It seemed like overnight; your belly had swelled, pushing at the seams of your favourite dresses and making your jeans a distant memory. Lately, you’d been relying more and more on Joel’s t-shirts and flannels, the worn fabric soft against your skin, offering that extra room you needed. You liked the way they smelled like him—like woodsmoke and fresh pine, wrapping you in his presence even when he wasn’t there.

And God, you could see it in his eyes every time he caught you wearing something of his —how much it did something to him. How the sight of you in his clothes, with your belly rounding beneath the fabric, lit something deep inside him.

But you didn’t try to get pregnant.

There wasn’t some grand plan, no careful conversations or conscious decisions about what you were doing. It had been the way he groaned when you begged for it, the way his breath hitched and his grip on your hips tightened like he was holding on for dear life. You loved the power it gave you, how those simple words could unravel him completely.

“Put a baby in me, Joel.”

You’d whisper it in his ear in those moments when he was deep inside you, moving slow and steady, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, sweat beading on his brow as he tried to keep control. Sometimes, you’d say it soft, barely a murmur against his lips. Other times, it came out all breathless, a plea mixed in with the sound of your moans. Sometimes it would be a loud scream.

And every time, it hit him like a goddamn freight train.

You felt it in the way his body would react—his hips driving harder, deeper, as if your words unlocked something in him, something primal. He couldn’t hold back when you said it. The way his voice would break, that low, guttural groan spilling from his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, his grip almost bruising, made you want him more.

“Please cum inside me, please, please, please…”

“You want that, huh?” he’d ask, his voice strained, thick with lust. “Want me to fill you up?”

And you did. You wanted it so badly in those moments; the idea of being swollen with his child, of him claiming you in the most permanent way, made your entire body burn with need.

His movements would become more purposeful as if he was consumed by the thought of it too.

But you weren’t trying to get pregnant. Not really.

You just loved the way it made him lose himself, how he’d bury himself so deep inside you, hips flush against yours, as he came with a broken moan, spilling himself into you over and over again, filling you up as you’d asked.

You could hear him behind you, the creak of the old wooden floorboards announcing his presence before his hands did. You smiled to yourself, letting the warmth of the sun match the warmth that spread through your chest. There was something so comforting about his presence—solid, dependable.

“Morning, darlin’,” his voice was rough, still thick with sleep, but there was something softer there, too, the edge he used to carry dulled by the peacefulness of this new life. His hands found your hips easily, warm and firm as they slid over the fabric of your dress, fingers grazing the swell of your belly like it was second nature to him now.

“Morning,” you murmured, smiling as he leaned in closer, his chest pressing against your back, his lips brushing against your shoulder. His beard scraped lightly against your skin.

“How’s my girls?” he asked, his hand resting protectively on your stomach, thumb tracing lazy circles over the fabric as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you.

From the moment you’d found out, Joel had been convinced you were carrying a girl. His baby girl.

“They’re just fine,” you teased, leaning back into him, letting the warmth of his body sink into yours. “She’s still baking.”

Joel chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your heart flutter.

"You look real pretty today," he murmured, voice gravelly and thick with that Southern drawl. You felt his hands slide across you in a slow, deliberate grip, the curve of your waist sliding down to rest on your sore hips. His breath was warm against your neck, the thick scrape of his beard sending shivers down your spine as he planted soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. His touch was slow, tender, not rushed—like he had all the time in the world; like you were something precious.

“Gonna need to get you some new dresses soon,” he murmured, his lips brushing your sensitive skin in between words. “Can’t have you walkin’ around in this one when it’s barely coverin’ you.”

“You used to love this dress; you couldn’t take your hands off me when I wore it, remember? You saying I’m getting too big for it?” You laughed softly.

“Nah,” he whispered, his voice thick with affection. “Just sayin’ you’re growin’ right where I want you to.”

“Well, I wore it especially; happy birthday, old man," you teased, raising your hand to dab bubbles on his cheek before giving him a soft kiss. You bit your lip and focused back on the dishes, and the feel of the soap between your fingers suddenly became more acute. But it was hard to stay focused when his hands were moving like that. His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress, teasing, lifting it ever so slightly.

"Joel, I’m almost done—" you giggled, but the words caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against that sweet spot just below your ear. His hand slid higher, bunching the fabric, exposing more of your thighs, the cool air brushing against the soft skin there.

“Good,” he growled softly between kisses, his voice low and rumbling. His hands wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as his mouth continued its slow, deliberate assault on your neck.

You could feel the heat pooling between your legs, your body already responding to him, the ache growing with every passing second. He knew it too—the way you shifted slightly, pressing back against him, craving more even as you tried to stay focused.

“So damn beautiful.” he whispered, his voice dark and full of affection, his lips brushing your ear. A hand slid higher again, teasing along the edge of your underwear now, and you could feel your breath hitch, your whole body tensing.

You tried to protest again, half-hearted, knowing it was useless. His fingers slid beneath the thin fabric of your panties, brushing over your folds, finding you already wet with need, and he groaned softly against your neck.

“Always fuckin’ ready for it, huh?” he muttered, his fingers moving with a slow, torturous rhythm that had your knees trembling. “You were made for me, made for this, to carry my babies.…”.

All you could do was hum in agreement and let out a breathless moan, your head falling back against his shoulder as the pads of his rough fingers traced hypnotic circles against your swollen clit, the sensation overwhelming. His breath was hot against your ear, his free hand cradling your belly with a kind of possessive tenderness.

“God, you drive me crazy.”

He kissed your neck again, harder this time, nipping and sucking, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. You could feel him growing harder against your back, the heat of his body pressed flush against yours.

“You want me to stop?” he whispered, his fingers still moving in slow, agonising strokes. He knew the answer before you even said it, his voice thick with a kind of smug satisfaction that only made the heat between your legs burn hotter, your pussy fluttering around nothing.

“No…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, dizzy with need.

“Didn’t think so,” he growled softly, and then his fingers dipped lower, slipping two fingers inside you, pulling a soft moan from your lips, filling that ache you always seemed to have inside you that only Joel could satisfy.

"That’s it, mama,” he whispered, “Let me take care of you.”

You could hear the soft squelch of your pussy, accepting his fingers over and over as Joel swayed with you gently.

Just when you were getting lost in his heavenly touch, he pulled them out, making you whimper, your pussy clenching at the sudden loss. A firm hand between your shoulder blades pushed you forward, your pulse thrumming with anticipation.

Your palms braced against the cool surface of the sink as your body instinctively arched for him.

You felt him sink to his knees behind you, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against the wood floor.

You could barely catch your breath, the feel of his hand sliding down the curve of your ass, his fingers gripping the fabric of your soaked panties, tugging them down your thighs. You gasped as the cool air hit you, your legs spreading automatically.

He pressed his lips to the back of your legs, kissing his way up slowly, reverently, as if he were worshipping you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you open. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

His mouth was on you before you could even register the heat of his breath, his tongue slipping between your folds, lapping up the wetness. You let out a moan, loud and breathless, your body jolting forward as the first wave of pleasure hit you like a lightning bolt. His hands were firm but loving on your hips, pulling you back just enough so he could fit his mouth where you needed him most.

He groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your entire being as his tongue slid over your folds, slow and deliberate. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t devouring you like a man starved. No, you were a luxury that had to be savoured.

His tongue moved slowly, dragging a long, deliberate stroke from your clit to your entrance. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you steady as he began to devour you, his mouth relentless, his tongue dipping and circling with a precision that left you breathless.

“Joel.”

His name was all you could manage, and it came out in a desperate moan.

And God, he loved how his name sounded when you moaned it.

He pressed a kiss to your swollen clit, soft and tender, before sucking it gently between his lips.

Your head dropped forward, your body trembling as the pleasure built inside you, hotter and hotter, until it felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh, fuck…” you whimpered, your fingers digging into the edge of the sink till your knuckles turned white, the pressure inside you building faster than you could handle.

Each lick was thorough and purposeful, his tongue exploring every inch of you like he was committing it to memory.

“God… Joel… feels so fucking good.” You could barely speak, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as his mouth worked you over.

You rocked your hips back, settling his tounge further into your cunt.

“Mhm, mhm,” Joel hummed against you, his hands gripping your hips tighter, pulling you down harder onto his face, his words vibrating against the overstimulated bundle of nerves. “Atta girl, just like that, let go, baby.”

You could feel the orgasm building inside you, the heat coiling tighter and tighter. You were right there, teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he pushed you closer and closer.

“Joel… I’m gonna—" you tried to warn him, but it was too late. The orgasm ripped through you like wildfire, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you as you cried out and came hard on his tongue. But he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, drinking every drop of your release until you were spent, legs giving way, chest heaving.

When he finally pulled away, you were a quivering mess and could barely stand. You felt your juices dripping down the inside of your thighs and shivered.

“Jesus, I'm gettin’ too old for this.” Joel wiped his mouth on his sleeve before he rose behind you with a groan, his hands sliding up your thighs, your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

"Don’t be too worn out," you teased, your voice soft, still giddy with the afterglow. “Ellie and everyone are coming over, remember? And we’re having cake!”

“Baby, you know…I'm feelin’ a little full, actually.” He joked incredulously.

Your jaw dropped in surprise at his vulgarity before he planted kisses all over your flushed face.

Each year, when he blew out the candles on a small cake you’d make from whatever ingredients were available, he’d always wish for the same damn thing: To keep loving you.

And if he were extra good, maybe he’d be given another shot at fatherhood.

Joel knew that this year, even if he never let himself fully believe he deserved it, you had already given him his greatest wish.

divider credit to @mikeykuns

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #jackson!joel #dad!joel miller #dad!joel #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us fan fiction #breeding k1nk

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barcaatthemoon · 2 days

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sex with my ex || claudia pina x reader ||

You hook up with your ex-girlfriend after playing a game against her.

MINORS DNI, 18+, Smut.

You rushed your way through your post-match routine. Claudia was waiting for you in the player parking lot. You wondered what excuses she gave her teammates about why she was skipping out on the winning celebrations. For the most part, they all liked you, even if they didn't approve of you and Claudia constantly going back to each other.

Your own teammates weren't nearly as fond of Claudia, but they had only ever known her as a opponent. You couldn't really blame them. A few of them were terrified that you'd eventually go back to playing for Barcelona just to be closer to Claudia again. Despite being broken up, you were very into her.

"Took you long enough," Claudia teased. You paused at the sight of her leaning against the hood of her car. She looked amazing. You hadn't seen her pre-game outfit, but it was definitely picked specifically for you. Claudia knew how much you loved seeing her arms on display, and there wasn't a doubt in your mind that she was flexing even as she pulled you in for a kiss.

"Oh please, like you weren't hoping I'd take a long time so you could plan your pose," you shot back. Claudia put her hands up in surrender and made no attempt to argue. "Take me back to your place?"

"Of course. I've got a couple new toys for us to try out," Claudia told you. She watched your reaction closely, noting when your eyes lit up at the mention of something new. Claudia knew all of the things you liked, and despite how casual she liked to play things with you, she hated the very idea of disappointing you.

"And why are we still here then?" Claudia opened up the passenger's side door for you. It was pretty hard to keep your hands off of each other as you made your way back to her apartment from the stadium. Claudia kept one hand on your thigh as she drove, occasionally letting her fingers trace little patterns on your skin. At first it seemed random, but then you realized that she was spelling out some of the things she wanted to do to you.

Your heart rate spiked with excitement at the prospect of such a long night with Claudia. You'd be gone in the morning back to your own city hours away. The two of you had to make the most of your night together, and you didn't doubt that Claudia would be more than capable of doing so. Even after playing for almost an entire game, the smaller woman always seemed to have an endless supply of energy when it came to the bedroom.

You and Claudia couldn't keep your hands off of each other once you were outside of the car. There was absoutely no shame as the two of you made out in the elevator. Claudia's hands roamed all over your body, touching every bit of you that she could. The two of you were so engrossed in each other that you nearly didn't make it out of the elevator on Claudia's floor.

"Take it all off, everything," Claudia ordered. You loved it whenever she took charge with you. She had been a lot more passive during your relationship, but now she was a force to be reckoned with. You could see how taking on more leadership in the team bled over into her everyday confidence, and you were lucky that you only saw Claudia on occasion because now you found her irresistable.

Claudia watched you like a hawk as you undressed yourself. Claudia shed a few pieces of clothing as she pushed you towards the bedroom, both of you leaving a trail in your wake. Claudia didn't seem to care at all about any sort of mess, only wanting you naked and in her arms as she crossed the into the threshold of her bedroom.

"On the bed, before I do anything for you, I want you to do something for me," Claudia said. You knew what she wanted as soon as she went towards her closet. Claudia returned with a decently sized box. You recognized the strap around her waist, but there was no toy attached to it. Claudia rummaged around in the box and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, a vibrating wand, and a new dildo that you hadn't seen before.

"All for me? You shouldn't have," you teased. Claudia didn't react to your comment at all, instead leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. There was something about the act that made your spine feel a bit tingly. She grabbed your hands and cuffed them together, before she tossed the vibrator to the side. "I'm not sure that will fit in my mouth."

"It's not for your mouth," Claudia said as she attached the dildo to the harness. It was thicker than what you were used to, but not necessarily longer. Claudia had obviously spent a lot of time searching for this. She knew that you would much rather been stretched to your limits than endure a game of seeing how far into you Claudia could fuck. You had learned the hard way that your insides bruised much easier than you did on the outside.

You let out a little yelp as Claudia pulled you closer. With the way that she stood over you, you could see just how wet she was. Claudia glanced down as you licked your lips, and both of you seemed to act on the same wavelength. Claudia moved forward to kneel on the bed as you craned your neck up to meet her.

More of Claudia's weight shifted onto the bed as she fell forward. You had expected her to begin eating you out as well, but Claudia seemed to have other ideas. You felt the wand between your legs at the same moment she flicked it on. The vibrations were intense, and you squirmed beneath her trying to ease away from it.

"No, stay still. I'll let this first one be fast, but you'll have to earn the others," Claudia told you. You felt your stomach drop at her words. You knew that you had until Claudia had cum, and despite the intensity of the vibrations against your cunt, you weren't sure that you could get off that quickly.

Above you, Claudia was close. You could tell by the way she rocked her hips back and forth against your togue. She couldn't stand for any bit of that contact to let up, not until she was finished. You could feel a subtle ache in your jaw, but you persisted, moving your mouth and tongue until Claudia's cum coated the lower part of your face.

"You're so fucking good at that. I love the way you eat me out," Claudia complimented. Your cheeks were practically burning from her words. Any sort of praise from Claudia always seemed to go straight between your legs, and this was no exception. Claudia bit her lip as she watched your cunt clench around nothing. "Do you want a reward?"

"Please," you whined. You were past the point of caring how desperate you sounded. The moment Claudia had withdrawn from you, so did the vibrations. She knew how to work you up to the brink, and despite you doing everything you could for her, she hadn't given you the first easy orgasm you had been hoping for.

Claudia's fingers stayed practically glued to your entrance as she teased you. You knew that she liked the feeling of your arousal coating her fingers. She'd play with you a little more until you were dripping onto the sheets beneath your bodies. The subtle stretch of two fingers wasn't going to be enough, so Claudia eased you into three and then four.

"Fuck, this is gonna be a tight fit," Claudia swore. You felt her fingers pull out, and you whimpered at the sudden feeling of emptiness before you felt the tip glide through your folds. Claudia was careful in easing her way in, watching your face for any signs of genuine pain. Claudia knew that you liked the hurt that came with using bigger toys, but that didn't stop her from worrying about crossing some invisble line with your pain tolerance.

"Clau, please. I need more," you told her. Claudia eased herself the rest of the way in and leaned forward to press her forehead against yours. The starting thrusts were slow and shallow, but soon, Claudia found her rhythm. You wanted to reach out for her, but you couldn't. The best you could do with your hands bound was grabbing onto one of the loose straps on the harness. You weren't sure which it was, but you could feel the dildo inside of you move with each little tug on it you gave.

Claudia could without a doubt feel what you were doing, but she let it continue. Your eyes were practically rolling back in your head as Claudia fucked you through your first orgasm. You kept a hold on the strap, moving it for her whenever Claudia had decided to give you a little rest. You kept the toy moving inside of yourself until Claudia pried your hands away and pulled out of you.

"Shh," Claudia shushed you as you began to protest and whine. You tried to sit up the best you could, but with your hands bound, it was a bit difficult. Claudia placed her hands on your chest and held you down as her thigh slotted between your legs. "Lay back, relax, and let me finish. I won't leave you like this, you know that baby."

"Sorry," you apologized. Claudia gave you a quick kiss before she settled back in between your legs. This time, you were rewarded greatly with her tongue. You didn't need anything other than her tongue flicking gently against your clit, coaxing your second orgasm out of you. The build up for this one was greater than your first, and you came hard on Claudia's mouth. Her sheets were a mess, but Claudia simply moved you to lay in a different spot as she started the shower up.

"How are your legs?" Claudia asked as she sat down on the bed next to you. The strap had been discarded completely, and her toys were all set aside to be washed. "Can you make it to the shower on your own?"

"They feel like they've just played a full 90 and then some, but yeah, I can make it to the shower. Will you be joining me?" you asked her. Claudia shook her head as she motioned towards the sheets and toys. "Will you be here when I get out of the shower?"

"I'll be here long enough to take you back to your hotel. I've got a team dinner to get ready for," Claudia told you. It definitely wasn't what you wanted to hear, but if it wasn't for the clear cut lines you had drawn when you broke up, you'd be dating again. Things weren't bad between the two of you, but with all of the outside influences on your relationship, it wasn't good. You wished that things could be different, but you doubted that Claudia would give you another real chance in a long time.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #claudia pina imagine #claudia pina x reader #claudia pina smut

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blckbrrybasket · 3 days

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Run, girl, run

Artrick x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Art’s grandma comes over after you and Patrick spend the night

Art's grandma was the sweetest woman you'd ever known. She was the salt of the earth, raising Art to bring only kindness and love into the world. He always tried his best to please her, and for the most part he kept his soft heart even after starting college and while keeping Patrick around him.

You balanced the two boys out. You kept Patrick in check, while also encouraging Art to loosen up a bit and enjoy his life outside of tennis. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, no longer bound by the rules of parent figures, urged on by your support. Most days with the three of you were like a dream, always helping the other to be the best they could be. Not that other people knew.

You all decided to keep your relationship private, not wanting outside judgments or prying eyes.

So no one else was aware, including Art’s grandma. Unfortunately for you, Art's grandma didn't always call before stopping by. She meant well, but her surprise visits meant quick texts from Art to make yourself scarce for the day. You always listened; even when Patrick begged you to mess with Art, you insisted on giving them space.

Maybe that’s why he got some sick satisfaction that Art's grandma had unexpectedly arrived for a visit while he was still half-dressed in Art's bed with you. The past night had been great, fucking until you were on the brink of exhaustion, and yet somehow Patrick was already energetic again in the morning. Art was usually a little slower to getting up, wanting nothing more than to drift back to sleep cradled in your arms.

However, the single knock on his door shattered the peaceful morning's atmosphere. Art groaned into his pillow, barely lifting his head to call out, “What?” A second of silence passed when his grandma’s sweet voice answered, “Art, sweetie? Is that you? I tried to call but I couldn’t wake you up.” She laughed softly, unaware of how fast Art shot out of bed.

He toppled over the side of the mattress, shoulder slamming into the thin carpet. Art hissed in pain, wasting no time when he popped back up. “Guys, you gotta go - now!” he whisper-yelled, shaking you awake. “Honey, are you alright?” Art winced at his grandma’s concerned voice. “I’m alright grandma!” Art replied, eyes darting between you and the door.

His head swiveled back around to face you as you raised your head, blinking away the last traces of sleep to take in the scene. “Up!” You let out a silent sigh, looking around in confusion. Art was already moving on to scramble, grabbing the clothes off the floor. “What..?” You asked.

Patrick leaned over your bare shoulder with a wicked grin, having been silently awake for a while. “Art’s grandma is here,” he whispered in your ear with cruel amusement. He laughed quietly at Art’s frantic movements, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. You sat up with little urgency, the comforter rolling off your body.

Art’s panic fell into background noise as Patrick slipped his shirt over you, giving you more coverage than just your underwear. A quick kiss silenced his mirth as you took in poor Art's panic. You turned away from Patrick when the sound of Art’s window opening drew you back to the present.

Art came back into view, whipping around to face you with an expression full of worry. He grabbed your face for a desperate goodbye peck. “I'm so sorry,” Art apologized profusely, knowing there was no other way out than the window. You understood - there wasn't any other option with his grandma right outside the door.

You shrugged, not caring all that much as you kissed him back, hands smoothing his curls down. “We get it,” Patrick mused. “You’re throwing us out like some hookups, no don’t worry,” he laughed as Art shoved his chest. “We get it!”

Patrick pecked Art’s cheek in an apology, ignoring his eye roll, before helping you to the end of the bed. His hand smoothly slid around your waist to guide you to the window. “Ladies first,” he said ‘gallantly’. Patrick watches you swing a leg over the sill as you snicker. “How chivalrous,” you goad.

Your hands find his, holding tightly as he helps lower you to the ground. It’s a gentle landing, greatly helped by Patrick who goes to follow suit the moment your feet find purchase. His landing is…a lot less graceful, shoved outside by Art. He could only hold his grandma off for so long, excusing that he was taking so long because he was simply getting dressed, deciding to hurry it along.

With a yelp, Patrick practically swan dove from the window, a mess of flailing limbs. He lands in a painful heap to the side of you, groaning. You could only sigh as you lent a hand to pull him upright once more. “Patrick,” you nearly whine in annoyance.

He wasn’t the last to come out though, your clothes raining down on him, adding insult to injury. “Seriously?” Patrick muttered, brushing himself off indignantly. You were all lucky that Art only lived on the first floor.

Despite the exit, you couldn't help but laugh at Patrick's disheveled state, the window slamming shut after another apology from Art. Your giggles bubbled over as you freed him from the shorts caught on his ear and shoulder.

Patrick only huffed, bundling the clothes unceremoniously. It was a rough start to the morning and you could see his thinly veiled annoyance. Wanting to lighten the mood, you leaned in for a quick kiss. His furrowed eyebrows softened some as his lips pressed to yours.

“Come on, first one back to my dorm gets head,” you challenged, lips brushing against his. Patrick's eyes lit up at the offer. In an instant, he gripped your hand and took off in a sprint across campus. You laughed with glee as the wind rushed past, any lingering stress melting away by your joint euphoria.

#patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x you #art donaldson x you #patrick zweig x art donaldson #art donaldson x patrick zweig #art donaldson x female reader #patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers x reader #challengers x you #challengers

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romanarose · 3 days

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Wreckage

Joel Miller

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Summary: Joel and Tommy go back to Joel's home the morning after outbreak day and comb through the wreckage of their life.

Warnings: I'll be clear, Joel attempts suicide. Major, major, major trigger warning. Joel's extreme grief, guilt as a parent, just sadness. Endless slightly hopeful, a hint that he will find healing. But it's mostly wump. PLEASE head the warning, i cried writing this.

Based on Wreckage by Pearl Jam. I heard it and immidiatly thought of Joel and Tommy, pleeeeeease listen.

Visited by thought, another darkened day

How you're like the sun, hiding somewhere beyond the rain

I'm needing for the light, stormy is the grey

Rivers overflowing, drowning all our yesterdays

It was over. His life was over. Sarah, his baby daughter, his sweet teenager who was his reason for getting to the end of every hard day, his smart, talented, matured-to-early-because-he-couldn’t-give-her-what-she-needed daughter died in his arms hours ago. Minutes later, him and Tommy were arrested, torn away from where he held her, Sarah’s young body limp in his arms. Joel screamed as the soldiers tried to take him, wanting him to walk away from her when he wanted to lay down and waste away in the field with him. Tommy tried to calm him down but eventually the soldiers took them both away. They were released not too long later, sent back to their little town to gather up their things and move into some quarantine area. Wanting to avoid it, they went to Tommy’s first, grabbing his identification and what he could fit into a bag. Tommy lived in a studio, a messy bachelor pad… Joel had to look through a whole life lived in that house. They stood at the front door, bodies of their neighbors having been cleaned up already. Tommy put his hand on Joel’s back.

“Are you ready, brother?”

Joel shrugged Tommy off. “No.” He opened the door.

Visited by thoughts on another darkened week

How even every winner hits a losing streak

The mistakes we all make and perfectly repeat

Chains are made by DNA refusing

Refusing to release

Everything was her.

Her soccer shoes on the floor he yelled at her to pick up that day.

The countertop she sat on as a toddler as he cooked breakfast for her on a Sunday that Tommy inevitably would come over and eat. Joel always made extra just incase.

The staircase they had their first major fight when she was 11. She came home late and after years of fairly lax parenting for a mature little girl, he laid down the law. She screamed that he was never around anyway, so why did it matter? Joel wanted to tell her it mattered because he was worried, that he spent the last hour calling every parent he knew, Tommy driving around town after dark because they didn’t know where she was. Instead, he got defensive and raised his voice.

The couch. Every late night movie they fell asleep watching, every time he woke up and she was dozed off on his chest or the arm of the chair. Every night he scooped her up and carried her to bed. Nights she faked being asleep so he’d do it. Feeling her growing up in her arms and feeling his age in his knees but never letting that stop him from picking her carrying her up the stairs, even in her teens. He would have done it last night. Instead he carried her past burning buildings and people killing each other as he and Tommy tried in vain to save her.

Combing through the wreckage, pouring through the sand

Surrounded by the remnants, what we could and couldn't have

Raking through the ashes, falling through my hands

Charcoal on the faces in the burned up photographs

“Whaddya need?” Tommy asked, the question two fold. They were being moved, shuffled to some containment area to be assessed for illness and then… who knows. Joel and Tommy would need clothes for a few days, they were told. But Tommy was also asking Joel, ‘How can I help you?’ But he couldn’t. Not really.

“Some bags in the cupboard.” He answered, looking at Sarah’s 100% paper he hung up on the fridge. Tommy grabbed them, waiting on Joel. They didn't have luggage, he didn’t travel enough for it. Well, Sarah had one, but he didn’t feel like taking a Spongebob suitcase. He had a backpack upstairs where he’d put his clothes in. “Food. Get canned shit.” They had enough of it. Joel was always feeding Sarah chef boyardee and campbells soups, like the lazy parent he was. Why didn’t he take the time to cook her real food? He was always so tired… too tired to take care of his only kid? She was in soccer, she was growing, she was in puberty, why couldn’t he be what she needed? WHy did he have to fail her, again and again and again and…

“M’ going upstairs…”

Tommy said something, but Joel’s ears were ringing and he couldn’t hear. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t face his daughter's bedroom… Joel closed his eyes as he walked past. Backpack was in his closet, he would just grab it, shove some basics in there, and get the hell out. When Joel opened his closet door, his backpack was there… And so was the gun he had up top for emergencies.

Oh, visited by thought and this I got to say

If you're feeling the leaving, I can't make you stay

I've only ever wanted for it not to be this way

But you're now like the water

And the water will find its way

He shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. Joel was baptist, he was raised think suicide meant he was going to hell, but what was this world without Sarah? For 13 years, Joel poured everything he had into raising her and it wasn’t enough. He was never home, she said as much in the card she gave him for his birthday. He didn’t feed her right, he didn’t spend enough time with her, every single one of her accomplishments from soccer to her grades was all her.

The gun was enticing, up there for him, hidden in a lock box after Sarah got sent home with a pamphlet on gun safety after Columbine. Maybe he should just take it, just incase there was trouble… No, that was stupid. If the government was rounding up civilians, they weren’t going to let him walk in with a gun, everything would be searched. And one guy with a gun wasn’t going to be a match for 100 guys with guns. Joel would probably end up getting Tommy shot too, failing everyone he loved.

Still, Joel got the keys and opened the lock box.

Combing through the wreckage

Holding out, holding on

Combing through the wreckage

“Joel, you wanna take a picture or something?” Tommy calls upstairs, startling Joel as he looked at the gun. He barked a no. Joel didn’t need a reminder every day of how he failed Sarah, how his one fucking job was to keep her alive and he couldn’t do that. He was a failure, and without Sarah there was no point.

There was no point.

Oh, visited by thoughts and not just in the night

That I no longer give a fuck who is wrong and who's right

This game of winner takes all and all means nothing left

Spoils go the victor and the other left for dead

Joel took the gun to Sarah’s room. If his home hurt, the pain he felt in here was unbearable. Purple was everywhere, her favorite color. Her bed was unmade, because it never was. He traced fingers over the pictures on her walls, her with her friend, with im, with Tommy. He looked around the room. She was everywhere and nowhere. Tears burned in his eyes, and he didn’t hesitate to let them fall again. Half done homework. When would this have been due? He didn’t know because he didn’t ask. A hair bonnet on the bed stand with some vampire book. The cover looked suggestive, was she old enough to be reading it? Joel knew so little, he was realizing. Did he know too little? It didn’t matter now. All those failures collided into that moment one last night, the moment he lived over and over again. The moment that would be his last thought.

Combing through the wreckage

Holding out, holding on

Combing through the wreckage

He was taught to believe suicide meant going to hell, but Joel couldn’t fathom that. If there was a God out there, and Joel believed there was, Joel would pay his dues in purgatory and then go on to heaven. If there wasn’t a God, he would just be at peace.

Either was better than this world without Sarah

Combing through the wreckage

Joel laid down on her bed, smelling her hair products on the silk pillow.

He raised the gun to his head.

“I’m coming, baby girl.”

Holding out, holding on

Holding out

Holding in

Holding on

Combing through the wreckage

“Joel?”

He flinched. It was a flash of a thought at he pulled the trigger. Tommy.

The gun went off, grazing his head.

Holding on (combing through the wreckage)

Holding on, oh (combing through the wreckage)

Holding on (combing through the wreckage)

It was unbearable.

When the gun went up, Tommy screamed Joel’s name, running upstairs to find his big brother bleeding out on his niece's bed, and there must have been a moment when Tommy thought Joel was dead.

The pain in his head wasn’t what hurt so bad, it was the pain of Tommy seeing him like this, of being so vulnerable, of having to have the person he should be protecting worrying about him. It was the pain of Sarah’s death. It was the pain of every failure that mounted in his house.

Joel began to scream. He wasn’t sure when it started or when it stopped, but as Tommy sat on the bed and pulled Joel into his arms he screamed.

Falling through the wreckage

“I need you, Joel!” Tommy shouted, frantic as he held gauze to Joel’s head. “You don’t get to leave me! You don’t get to do this!” Tommy was crying too.

But he was right.

Crawling through the wreckage

He had to take care of Tommy. Tommy had to live. Joel had always watched out for his brother, raised him, protected him, made sure he was fed when their dad was passed out drunk and their mom was out late with ‘friends’. Joel had to keep him alive. He failed Sarah, he couldn’t fail Tommy too.

Joel would lock everything away. He’d push away it all, he’d shove down every feeling about Sarah. He didn’t want a picture, wasn’t going to think of her every day when he had to focus on Tommy.

He looked down at his wrist. When he went to go unlatch it, leave it in the house… but he couldn’t. In that moment, removing the watch would be like removing her again. He decided to keep it. A watch was useful, right?

One reminder. A reminder of what he lost so he remembered to do better for Tommy.

Everywhere, and nowhere at all.

Combing through the wreckage

As they stepped out of the house, the cul de sac seemed far too bright and sunny for the occasion. Too nice. Too happy. But it didn’t matter, Joel reminded himself. He looked at his brother, the younger man’s face seeming aged 10 years in one night. Joel found a new sense of hope.

He’d live for Tommy, he’d keep his family alive. Save who he can.

It didn’t matter what Joel had to do to do it.

*************

Thank you so, so, so much for reading and giving this a chance even though it's not a x reader. I appriciate each and every bit of love you all give.

2 more Joel WIPS to clear out before i excit this fandom

I hope yall give the song a listen, i cried listening to it while writing.

tagging those who might like but dont feel presured!!! i know it cn be triggering

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @miraclesabound @jennaispunk

#joel miller #tommy miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller whump #whumptober #tommy miller angst #angst #whump #joel the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us hbo #Spotify

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slaymitchabernathy · 3 days

Text

The Nanny

“Looks like you survived the first day.”

Soarynn can only nod and blink while she follows Eudora through more hallways of the Mansion. She had gone straight to bed last night after she got home, too tired to do anything else.

But this morning she made sure to wake up with enough time to shower, style her hair and prepare for another long day of running after the children. She had thought of maybe taking them to the zoo, but she supposed it was up to their father at the end of the day.

As Eudora had mentioned, the children didn’t do as much as they used to after their mother died. He probably didn’t want to risk losing them in some freak accident and Soarynn certainly didn’t want to be the cause of something like that.

“Now breakfast is very important,” Eudora tells her, “this is the only time that the children get to see their father so it’s imperative that you and I say nothing unless spoken to. We’ll go over our schedules for the day, but other than that, zip it.” She turns to Soarynn and mimics throwing away an imaginary key and Soarynn presses her lips into a thin line, earning her a smile from Eudora, “Good! Coriolanus usually arrives a few minutes after the children so they can get started on breakfast early.”

Soarynn follows her down a few more hallways until she can hear the familiar giggles of the children. “I could’ve woken them up,” she mumbles, feeling bad that someone—most likely Eudora—had to do it.

Eudora waves her off, “You can wake them up for the rest of your employment dear, don’t you worry.”

They walk into a beautifully decorated dining room, with floor to ceiling windows and mahogany finishings. It’s one of the most beautiful and expensive rooms Soarynn has ever been in so it makes sense for this to be the room the Snows only eat breakfast in.

Why have every meal in the same room when you have twenty more?

All three children are seated at the table but they’re running the second they see her and Eudora.

“Soarynn! Soarynn you came back!” Ceraphina shrieks, throwing her arms around Soarynn’s legs.

Soarynn chuckles and runs a loving hand through Ceraphina’s hair, looking down into her blue-gray eyes, “I promised I’d stick around didn’t I?”

Celeste comes up behind her sister, simply taking Soarynn’s hand instead, “Well people lie,” she tells her matter of factly.

She’s got a point.

“Daddy says to never lie,” Ceraphina continues, “lying is bad and it breaks trust because Daddy says so.” Celeste nods in agreement, “Mhm. No lying allowed.”

These girls seem to cling to every word their father says, so she’ll have to watch what she says as well. “Lying can be very hurtful,” Soarynn agrees, trying to steer the conversation in any other direction, “now why don’t we eat this delicious breakfast?”

She’s met with zero complaints and they all make their way over to the table where Caspian is watching them with sleepy eyes, Lenny nearly falling from his grasp. Soarynn chuckles, readjusting Lenny so that he doesn’t take a tumble onto the floor, “Good morning Caspian. Did you sleep well?”

Caspian mumbles something she can’t quite understand but he reaches out for her and Soarynn gladly pulls him into her lap.

Breakfast today is an assortment of pastries, eggs cooked in every possible way, fruits, and juices. The girls seem to only be eating the pastries, the croissants, and doughnuts whereas Eudora and Soarynn help themselves to some eggs and fruits.

“Is Daddy going to be home tonight for dinner?” Ceraphina asks, a few crumbs falling from her mouth as she finishes her croissant. Eudora shakes her head, reaching out to dab the corners of Ceraphina’s mouth with a napkin, “Don’t talk with food in your mouth dear. And no, your father has a very important meeting tonight. Soarynn will eat dinner with you.”

Soarynn offers Ceraphina a smile but she’s met with a pout, “Daddy never has dinner with us anymore,” she grumbles.

Before Soarynn or Eudora can say anything to prove that statement to be incorrect, a stern, authoritative voice fills the room. “What’s this about me not eating dinner with my girls?”

Both Ceraphina and Celeste gasp, turning to look over their chairs at their father making his way into the room. He looks very handsome today, wearing a charcoal gray suit with his curls slicked back. He looks like he just happened to stop by for breakfast. Soarynn wonders if this is a part of his schedule.

6:00 A.M. - Wake Up

8:00 A.M. - Breakfast with the children

8:45 A.M. - Start running the country

Soarynn wouldn’t be surprised if he had to schedule every little interaction just to stay on top of things.

Both girls are out of their seats again, running over to their father who bends down on one knee to be at eye level with them. Soarynn looks down at Caspian to see if he also wants to go greet his father, but he seems quite content in her lap, mindlessly chewing on a croissant.

"Daddy, can we please have dinner with you tonight? Please, please, please, we'll be so well-behaved," Ceraphina promises, getting Celeste to nod along with her, "Yes, we'll be so quiet," Celeste adds.

President Snow gives his girls a small smile, reaching out to brush some of Ceraphina's hair out from her face, "I'm afraid not my darlings, this dinner is strictly business. You know the rules."

The girls must not be big fans of these rules because they both slouch, and Soarynn can see Celeste is on the verge of tears which he's quick to interfere with, "No need for tears Celeste," he tells her, his thumb wiping away at her eyes, "we still get to have breakfast together, don't we?"

Celeste shoves his hand away, stomping her little foot for good measure, "But you always had dinner with us! When Mommy was alive, you always had din-"

"Mommy isn't here anymore," he cuts her off, his voice more stern than it was before as he takes her small hands into his big ones, "but if she were here, what would she say? What would she want you to do for her?"

Ceraphina perks up, raising her hand as if she's in class, "Oh I know! I know Daddy!" President Snow nods, his focus still on his youngest daughter, "I know you do sweetheart, and so does your sister, right?" He uses one hand to give her a gentle squeeze, making Celeste crack a small smile, "She'd want me to be on my best behavior," she says slowly, rocking back and forth on her heels, "...and to listen to you."

"Mhm. And I know you can do that for me, darling."

It's a sweet sight to watch the President of Panem get down on one knee to talk to his daughters, to watch him wipe their tears and give them a hug. Soarynn had wondered how involved he really was with his children's lives, but it seems that he knows them well enough to know what to say when things went south.

With no more tears threatening breakfast, the girls make their way back to the table, hand in hand with their father. Eudora doesn't even look up from the binder she brought, flipping through several pages of what Soarynn can only guess is his schedule.

Soarynn expects President Snow to take his seat but he walks around to her side which would make her nervous if it weren't for his youngest child sitting in her lap. She hopes that's alright, that Caspian won't get in trouble for sitting in her lap instead of his own chair. He's just so small and sweet, it's hard to say no to him.

President Snow doesn't even acknowledge her when he comes to a stop next to her, the scent of roses overwhelming her while he places a loving hand on Caspian's head, "Good morning Caspian."

Soarynn swallows at how deep President Snow's voice sounds in the morning. Caspian looks up at his father, piercing blue eyes meeting piercing blue eyes, "Lenny."

"Yes, I see you brought Lenny to breakfast...again. Imagine my surprise."

Caspian looks back down at his food, "Lenny," he mumbles, pulling at his croissant some more.

Soarynn keeps her head down, watching from her peripheral vision to see when President Snow finally sits down. He's seated between the girls which is probably for the best, both girls can get equal amounts of attention this way.

"Girls, you need to eat some eggs," he tells them, reaching for some fruits for himself. Ceraphina groans, slumping in her chair, "Eggs are gross." This earns her a sharp look from her father, "I'm sure people in the Districts would love eggs," he counters, grabbing the dish of scrambled eggs, "and eggs will help you grow to be proper ladies."

Ceraphina looks across the table at Soarynn, her eyes narrowing, "Do you eat eggs Soarynn?"

All eyes are on her now and Soarynn nervously brushes some of her hair out from her face, "I do," she answers, "a balanced meal is necessary to stay healthy." That wasn't the answer Ceraphina was looking for.

President Snow grunts and places some scrambled eggs on both girl's plates, "See? Now eat your eggs please."

There are worse things to eat but the girls don't push back any further, slowly but surely eating their eggs, even if they make very dramatic faces while doing so. President Snow shakes his head and looks over at Eudora, "What's my day looking like Eudora."

Soarynn wonders how Eudora got this job, was she some event coordinator prior to landing this job? Or do all the Trinkets plan out the President's day?

"You have a meeting right after breakfast, then you have an interview with the Gazette, and after that, you have a phone call with the Mayors from Two, Four, and Six. Then after that..."

Soarynn tunes out the rest of the schedule, focusing on keeping most of Caspian's breakfast on his plate and not on the floor, "Soarynn, what're we doing today?" Celeste's question makes her a bit nervous, she had thought about the zoo, but another day in the house doesn't sound too bad now that her boss is sitting across from her.

Soarynn swallows, "I thought...I thought we might go to the zoo," she says softly, "but it might be too busy today."

The girls don't even listen to the last part, they're already gasping and squealing and grabbing their father by the arm, "Daddy! Daddy, can we go to the zoo with Soarynn? Please can we go?"

President Snow's piercing gaze finally lands on Soarynn and he looks nothing like the man she encountered last night. No, he looks like the man who asked about her dead father and then warned her to not act like the children's mother.

Soarynn feels so very small in her chair.

"I want to see the tigers," Celeste says, tugging on his sleeve, "and the birds, and the monkeys."

President Snow sighs, rubbing his temples, "It'll be hot today," he says, more to Soarynn than to his children, "but I suppose a trip to the zoo would be nice."

Soarynn lets out a small sigh of relief while the girls celebrate, cheering and promising to eat all of their eggs. President Snow says a few things to Eudora about extra security measures and clearing out the entire zoo before he starts asking the girls about what they did yesterday.

Soarynn heeds Eudora's words, staying out of the conversation and simply helping when needed. Caspian gets fussy after a while, wanting to be held by his father which is an adorable sight. He really is a miniature version of his father.

"Momma," Caspian says, looking up at his father expectantly.

President Snow shakes his head, a small smile on his lips while he fixes Caspian's bedhead, "She's not here anymore Cas. No more Momma."

Soarynn feels her heart breaking a little bit more for these children who so desperately miss their mother.

"Mommy's in the ground, remember Cas?" Ceraphina reminds him, poking at what remains of her breakfast, "Daddy says we can go put flowers on her grave soon."

Soarynn looks over at Eudora who's wearing a sad expression, perhaps she was close to Livia before she passed.

"Yes," their father finally says, "we can go put flowers on Mommy's grave soon."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn never knew that a single child could possess so many clothes.

She spins around in Ceraphina's closet, in absolute awe at how many dresses she has. A normal four-year-old would have a normal amount of clothes, but Ceraphina Snow is not a normal child.

"Ceraphina darling, what do you want to wear today?" Soarynn calls, wondering if Ceraphina can ever hear her from all the way inside her closet. After breakfast Soarynn and the children made their way upstairs to get them properly dressed for their outing to the zoo.

She had left all three children in Ceraphina's bedroom, figuring it would be easier to dress them individually but they might want to pick out their own clothes. But she hears small footsteps a second later and looks down to find Ceraphina staring up at her, a smile on her cute face, "You called?"

Soarynn nods, "I did. What do you want to wear today? It will be hot like your father said." Ceraphina hums, spinning around her massive closet, her fingertips grazing several dresses until she stops on a pink dress, "This one! Except, you have to tie the bow in the back," she explains.

Soarynn pulls it off the rack to find that there is a small box that ties in the back, making it a very cute dress. "It's perfect," she tells the child, "and we can put a bow in your hair too."

Ceraphina gasps, not even thinking about her hair until now, "Will you braid my hair again? And Celeste's too?" Soarynn smiles and nods, it's so sweet how the girls always make sure to include one another.

Soarynn helps Ceraphina get dressed, making sure to tie the perfect bow, which earns her an excited squeal from Ceraphina, "Oh, it's so pretty!"

Soarynn wonders what the children's routine was with their last nanny. Did she let them pick out their clothes? Did she take them to the zoo?

But she doesn't think about it any longer, not when she's got to get Caspian and Celeste ready as well, "You look very fancy," Soarynn tells her, "like a true proper Capitol lady."

Her words must mean more than she thought to Ceraphina who's practically beaming, "Thank you!"

Soarynn hums, leading them back into the bathroom which is as massive as the closet. Soarynn sits Ceraphina up on the counter, and grabs a hairbrush, "You want me to braid it again?"

"Yes please."

Easy enough. Soarynn grew up braiding everyone's hair, it was the thing for girls to do. She and her friends would practice different styles on one another, all thinking about a future where they could have the chance to style their daughter's hair.

Ceraphina isn't her daughter though.

And she'd do well to remember that.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn feels a little bit nervous stepping out with all three Snow children.

Getting them out of the house hadn't been too difficult, she thought their father might come say goodbye but he was nowhere to be seen after breakfast. The car ride was short which she was grateful for since both girls wanted to do everything but sit down and sit still.

At least Caspian sat still.

The August heat beats down on the small group as they make their way towards the zoo's entrance. Soarynn can't remember the last time she went to the zoo, she was probably around Ceraphina's age. As she got older, animals were replaced by catalogs and lipsticks.

Taking care of children means reliving the best parts of her childhood, the parts she got to spend with her father.

They're escorted by a group of Peacekeepers, clearing out the entire area for them. Soarynn barely sees anyone else at the zoo now that she thinks about it. Did President Snow close it down for them? She wouldn't put it past him.

"Look at the flamingos!" Soarynn watches the girls run over to the first enclosure, a small lake with beautiful pink birds wading in the water. Caspian is taking small, slow steps alongside her, looking around the zoo, "Lenny," he says, a small pout on his face.

Soarynn sighs, "I'm sorry darling, but Lenny might get lost if we bring him here. He's safe and sound back in your room."

Caspian shakes his head, "Lenny."

Soarynn had decided against bringing his precious stuffed animal to the zoo for the main purpose of keeping him safe. She didn't need him to fall into the wrong enclosure and go missing.

They finally reach the flamingos and she picks him up so that he can see better, "Look at the flamingos Cas," Ceraphina says, standing on her tiptoes, "they're so pink!"

Celeste tilts her head while watching the birds, "Why are they pink Soarynn? Did someone dye their feathers?"

Soarynn chuckles and shakes her head, what a sweet way to think of the flamingos, "No darling. I think it's what they eat that makes them pink." Celeste's eyes widen and she watches one of the birds flap its wings, "If I eat pink food will I turn pink?"

"You might feel sick, but you won't turn pink," Soarynn tells her, "why don't we go look at the monkeys?"

꧁ ꧂

They spend a good chunk of their afternoon running around the zoo.

Besides the workers, Soarynn doesn't see a single patron which further confirms that President Snow has seen to it that no one will disturb his children today.

The children loved watching the monkeys, especially since they're so similar to humans. Caspian was elated to see an actual lion, even if this one was sleeping the entire time they watched him. Caspian kept roaring at the lion, hoping to get a response. It did get the girls to giggle, Soarynn didn't know he could be so loud but anyone nearby could hear him.

Then they moved onto the aviary where they were all given sticks with birdseed stuck to them. If they stood still enough, a bird might land on the stick. The girls moved around far too much for a bird to even consider landing on their sticks, but Caspian actually managed to get one bird's attention.

Everyone gasped when the small wren landed on his stick, pecking at the birdseed. "That's a bird Caspian," Soarynn had whispered, watching Caspian's face of delight while the bird continued to peck at the seeds. "Bird," Caspian had repeated, eyes wide with amazement.

As the day dwindled down, they found themselves in the zoo's gift shop, which must be new because Soarynn knew for certain that it wasn't around when she was a little girl.

"Can we please get a stuffed animal?" Ceraphina asks, tugging on the dress Soarynn chose to wear today, giving her pleading eyes, "Just one stuffed animal, please?"

Soarynn wants to remind her that they've got an entire collection waiting at home, but she can see Celeste eyeing a stuffed bear already like she owns it. Whoever designed the gift shop to be right next to the exit must hate parents because this is a recipe for disaster.

Soarynn cards her fingers through her hair, "I don't think so darling. We'd have to pay for the stuffed ani-"

"It's free of charge," a worker interjects, flashing them a Capitol smile, "President Snow insists. Pick whatever you like."

Well, that's the greenlight Soarynn didn't need because the children go nuts, grabbing everything in sight. They won't be able to fit into the car at this rate. "Girls," Soarynn says sternly, "you each can pick out one stuffed animal, alright?"

Cerapina huffs, putting her hands on her hips, "Well Daddy said th-"

"Well, I am saying that you can only choose one," Soarynn cuts her off, "it's not fair to the other children who visit the zoo if you take everything. We have to think of others and share."

They're at a standstill, Caspian and Celeste watching as Ceraphina and Soarynn battle it out. But Soarynn is a grown-up, and she's not backing down.

"Or you don't have to pick anything," she says sweetly, "we can just go home if you'd like."

Celeste gasps and grabs her sister's hand, "If you want to leave with nothing you can. But I am leaving with a stuffed animal." Her little sister's words seem to knock some sense into Ceraphina who slowly nods, "Okay, one stuffed animal," she agrees, running off with Celeste to grab something.

Soarynn lets out a sigh of relief. She doesn't want to come off as strict or mean, but she has to earn the children's respect and that means not backing down on certain things such as how many stuffed animals are too many.

"What do you want to get Caspian?" She asks, bouncing him on her hip. She tried to let him down several times today but he's clung onto her every time, wanting to be carried. Who is she to deny him?

Caspian points at a display of different bird stuffed animals, "Bird."

Soarynn smiles, "Excellent choice."

꧁ ꧂

"Hold my hand while we walk to the car please," Soarynn says, reaching out for Celeste's hand. Coming into the zoo, the streets were empty, but a crowd has grown since they went in and it's making Soarynn nervous. She knows they're safe, protected by Peacekeepers but she's still nervous.

Celeste gives her a curious look but obliges to her request, taking her large hand into her smaller one, offering her other hand to Ceraphina, "We've got to stick together," she tells her sister. Ceraphina nods, her blue-gray eyes scanning the crowd, "Snows stick together."

Soarynn guides them towards the car, doing her best to ignore all the shouts that are thrown her way. None of them are mean, everyone seems to be excited to see the President's children out and about after so long. Many people call out the girl's names, a few even waving. Soarynn spots a familiar face, Lucky Flickerman with his camera crew, commentating on the entire spectacle this has become.

Soarynn swallows and tugs the girls along quicker, desperate to get inside the car, "Come on, time to go home," she urges, helping them climb into the back of the car. Soaynn slides in last with Caspian still in her hold, slamming the door shut and letting out a breath of relief when the car immediately starts moving.

"Were you scared?"

Soarynn looks over at Celeste who's playing with her new stuffed bear, the same one she was eyeing earlier, "I was," she admits, "I'm not used to that many people watching me."

Celeste gives her a smile, kicking her feet as they dangle off the car seat, "Don't be scared, Daddy always protects us."

Ceraphina hums in agreement, playing with the stuffed horse she picked out, "People always take pictures of us. Daddy says it's because we're very important."

"You are very important," Soarynn agrees, knowing that sentiment doesn't apply to her as well. She's just a nanny.

Just a nanny.

꧁ ꧂

The Mansion is quiet when they return although Soarynn doubts that it's ever truly busy. The girls run ahead to the dining room where lunch is waiting for them, giggling and playing with their new stuffed animals along the way.

"Lenny," Caspian mumbles, burying his face in the crook of Soarynn's neck. He should probably be put down for a nap. "Alright," she decides, "we'll go upstairs so you can take a nap with Lenny, how does that sound?" He must be so tired after such a busy day.

Soarynn opts to take the back staircase since it's closer, carefully climbing all the steps. She's almost at the top when she hears the familiar voice of President Snow, looking up to find him and another man climbing down the same steps.

For a moment, she's frozen. Not knowing what to do or how to act.

Caspian thinks for her, perking up when his father comes into view and he holds out his new stuffed animal, "Bird."

Soarynn steps to the side so the men can pass, keeping her head down when they pass. "Bird," Caspian repeats when his father passes by, earning him a small nod before he continues down the stairs. Soarynn smooths Caspian's hair down, both of them watching his father disappear down the stairway, "Let's get you in bed mister," she whispers, climbing the last few steps.

She can't shake that feeling while she tucks Caspian into his crib after changing him into some pajamas. President Snow hadn't even really looked at her and yet she felt frozen, in trouble, nervous.

Will she always feel this way around her employer?

꧁ ꧂

The zoo mixed with the August heat took a toll on the Snow children today. Both girls are slumped over on a sofa while Soarynn and Caspian sit on an armchair, the television playing softly in front of them.

They're in that strange period between lunch and dinner where taking a nap sounds like the best idea ever. Ceraphina perks up when a cat appears in a commercial for cat food, its brown fur looks so soft. "Do you have any pets?" She asks Soarynn, playing with the hem of her dress. A few stray curls have come loose from her braid throughout the day but Soarynn can always slick them back down if need be.

"I do," Soarynn nods, "a white cat named Petunia."

This is big, exciting news apparently.

Both girls are all over her in seconds, asking all sorts of questions.

"How old is she?"

"Is she nice?"

"Does she smell bad?"

"Does she meow a lot?"

"Can she do tricks?"

Soarynn is blown away by all their questions and motions for them to sit down on the floor so they don't crowd Caspian who nearly got smothered, "Petunia is five years old, she's very sweet, and no, she doesn't smell bad since I give her lots of baths. She has a bit of a loud personality, so she meows on occasion, but she's also a bit of a diva so she doesn't know any tricks."

Soarynn was gifted Petunia by her father for her birthday and she became her most prized possession. She knows Petunia is at home right now, passed out on top of her pillow without a care in the world.

Heaven forbid that cat ever have to fend for herself.

"Daddy won't let us get a cat," Celeste pouts, "or any pet. He says they're too messy." Petunia is a rather clean cat but Soarynn is sure that there are messier animals out there. "I'm sure he has his reasons," Soarynn tells her, doing her best to defend the President when he's not here to do it himself, "and pets are a lot of responsibility."

Lucky Flickerman's television show finally comes back on the screen and Soarynn can't believe her eyes. It's her. Her and the children at the zoo.

"Today we had a rare sighting at the zoo today folks and no, it wasn't an animal that we saw!" Lucky draws some chuckles from the crowd before continuing, "We caught a rare glimpse of the Presidential family out and about, enjoying the zoo on this bright sunny day, accompanied by who must be their new nanny. Looks like she could be their mother!"

Soarynn is mortified.

This is exactly what she gets for trying to do something different. She should've just stayed within the safety of the Mansion's walls but now she's being compared to Livia Snow.

"We're on television! Soarynn look!"

Ceraphina's words wash right over Soarynn, a million thoughts running through her mind, the main one being that she's getting fired tonight, she has no doubt in her mind that President Snow will fire her. She didn't even last a week.

"Let's go to the playroom," Soarynn says, clicking the television off, "I think that's enough television for tonight."

꧁ ꧂

Dinner is quiet.

Well, Soarynn is quiet.

The girls are talking a mile a minute, telling Eudora every single thing they did and saw at the zoo today. Soarynn pushes her food around on the plate, no longer hungry.

"...and then we got new stuffed animals!" Celeste finishes, throwing her hands in the air for dramatic effect. Eudora gives her an impressed nod, "Sounds like you were very busy today. That's good, a busy schedule is a good schedule."

"Is Daddy busy?"

"Yes dear, he's always busy."

"I wish he'd play with us," Ceraphina mumbles, pushing her half-eaten plate away.

Eudora frowns, glancing at Ceraphina and then at Soarynn, "You have Soarynn to keep you company dear. Your father hired her himself so you could always be taken care of."

Soarynn straightens up in her chair. This is no time to glower in her own self-pity. Her main priority is the children so until she goes home tonight, she's got to keep up her cheery persona. "Eudora is right, I'm always here to play."

"But you don't live here," Ceraphina points out, "Macy lived here. Remember Macy?" Celeste nods, taking a bite out of her bread roll, "Mhm. Macy had pretty red hair like Mommy."

Sorynn quirks a brow at Eudora and is met with a look she understands too well, 'I'll explain later'.

"I might not live here, but I'm going to be here from the moment you wake up to the moment you go to sleep," Soarynn assures her. Unless she gets fired tonight.

Celeste perks up, roll long forgotten, "Can you bring your cat?"

Eudora pulls a disturbed face which leads Soarynn to quickly shake her head, "I'm afraid Petunia is quite comfortable at home. She doesn't do well in cars."

Or around other people. Petunia is a one-woman cat.

"Finish up with your dinner if you want dessert," Eudora reminds the children, "then you all can go play before Soarynn helps you with your baths. I have to go over a few things with Soarynn."

The promise of dessert motivates the girls to finish the last few bites of their dinner while Soarynn helps cut Caspian's chicken into smaller bites, "Lenny," he says, placing his small hand on top of her large one. She gives him a small smile, "You can play with Lenny after dinner."

Dessert is a crowd favorite apparently, chocolate-covered strawberries. Soarynn used to beg for these as dessert when she was little so she's happy to see the children also get so excited to eat them.

"Let me wipe your mouth darling," Soarynn says, reaching out for Ceraphina's face. She's got chocolate all around her mouth and that just won't do. Celeste slides out of her chair and runs over to Soarynn, tilting her head up, "Clean my face too!" Soarynn chuckles softly and makes a big show of cleaning her face as well, even though Celeste doesn't have anything around her mouth.

"All clean," she announces.

Caspian is more interested in licking the chocolate off the strawberries rather than eating them whole bit he seems content so she doesn't bother him.

Soarynn watches the girls try to sit in the same chair, determined to sit with one another with a smile on her face. These children are so sweet. She hopes tonight isn't her last night with them.

꧁ ꧂

"Who's Macy?"

Soarynn watches Eudora's face carefully after asking a question she doesn't even really know about, but the girls do if they mention this mystery woman.

Eudora sighs, shaking her head, "Macy was the first nanny we hired after Livia died. She looked nearly identical to Livia because Coriolanus thought it would help the children. All it did was confuse them. And it didn't help that Macy was the complete opposite of Livia, always so kind and cheerful, just like you."

Soarynn frowns, glancing over at the children contentedly playing with dolls and blocks, "Livia wasn't nice?"

"Livia wasn't kind," Eudora corrects her, "anyone can be nice, it takes a special type of person to be genuinely kind and Livia didn't seem to ever possess that quality. She loved her children though, it's a shame she got sick."

"Was she...did they ever love each other?"

Eudora furrows her perfectly groomed eyebrows, "Coriolanus and Livia? No. Not truly that is. I think they loved the idea of each other which seems to be the case for this generation, running before they learn to walk, let alone crawl. They both loved their children though, it brought them together as a united front, and now he's all alone without a clue as to how to raise them."

Soarynn doesn't know much about love. She's never been in love herself. But she can imagine what it feels like, what it looks like. the Snow couple never looked to be truly in love. Maybe Eudora was right, they just loved the idea of each other and then Livia died, leaving him alone.

"Today people saw us at the zoo," Soarynn says slowly, playing with the fabric of her dress, "Lucky Flickerman was there and he said I looked like I could be their mother. And now I'm worried he's going to fire me," the last words tumble out of her mouth like a confession but she's glad to get it off her chest.

She had to tell someone before President Snow got back home tonight.

Eudora looks over at the children who've built some sort of zoo enclosure from the looks of it for their stuffed animals, not a care in the world. "I must admit, you certainly could be Ceraphina's twin, your eyes are identical. But Coriolanus isn't going to fire you over what Lucky Flickerman said, that man just found out you existed today and now he's got all sorts of opinions about you. Let people talk, all you need to do is focus on your job."

Soarynn sighs, nodding along to her words that do a great deal in comforting her, "I just need to keep them happy," she finishes, "nothing else matters."

And nothing does.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn can not believe how much energy these girls have right before bed.

She put Caspian to sleep first since he was still tuckered out after his nap. He didn't even put up a fight which she was grateful for.

"It's time for bed," she says for the sixth time, picking up toys from the floor, "your father will be very upset if he comes home to find you two still awake."

The girls continue jumping on their bed, not paying her words any mind, "Daddy never gets upset with us," Ceraphina says, bumping into her sister, "and we're not tired." Soarynn places her hands on her hips, giving them a look, "Well I'm tired."

Celeste flops onto the bed, giving Soarynn a curious look, "How old are you?"

Soarynn puts the last of the toys away, closing the trunk, "I'm twenty years old." Sometimes she feels forty with back pain and aching knees. Other times she feels like she's ten years old again, not a clue to what she's doing with her life.

"You're young," Ceraphina says, hopping on one foot, "young enough to marry someone."

Celeste gasps, sitting up so fast that she knocks her sister down in the process, "You could marry Daddy!"

Ceraphina's face morphs from one of annoyance to one of agreement, nodding along to her little sister's plans, "Yes! Yes, you can have a big wedding and live happily ever after!"

Soarynn laughs, gathering her hair into her hands and twisting it into a braid, "Your father is far too busy to get married right now, especially to the nanny of his children," she says, poking at both of them to make them giggle. She succeeds and scoops them both up, swinging them around, "Now what story should I read tonight hmm?"

The girls shriek with excitement as they all spin around, "The jungle one!" Ceraphina cries, "The one with the lion!" Soarynn tosses all three of them back onto the mattress, letting them catch their breath, "Alright, I'll read that one but then it's bedtime alright?"

"Will you do the voices?"

"I'll do the voices."

Once Soarynn finally gets the girls settled and under the covers, she starts reading the story, doing her best animal impressions and there are a lot of animals in this book. But the girls must think she's doing a good job because she receives zero complaints throughout the whole story, not even a whine when she turns off the light.

"Have sweet dreams and I'll see you tomorrow," Soarynn whispers, cupping both of their faces with her hands. Ceraphina leans into her touch, her eyes growing heavy now that it's dark, "Thank you for taking us to the zoo today Soarynn."

Celeste yawns before cuddling up to her big sister, "Yeah, thanks for taking us."

Soarynn smiles fondly down at the girls, watching them fall asleep, "You're very welcome sweet girls," she whispers, quietly padding over to the doors.

She makes it out just in time to see President Snow coming out of Caspian's room. Her heart starts to beat a little faster when he walks towards her, his tie loosened and his curls unruly. He looks very handsome right now.

"They're asleep?" He nods at their bedroom doors. Soarynn nods then shakes her head, "Yes, well, no. I just put them down."

President Snow hums and pushes the doors open, slipping into the darkened room. Soarynn hears excited gasps and then the sound of him quieting them down. She peers in and sees him kissing them both goodnight, nodding when they show him their new stuffed animals. He gives their foreheads one last kiss each before rising back up to his full height.

Soarynn backs into the hallway, her hands clasped behind her back and her head lowered when he comes back out, closing the doors behind him. "How was the zoo?"

She glances up at him, he looks so intimidating from the outside, like he could break her into a million pieces and yet, he's so endlessly gentle and patient with his girls.

"It was good," she says, "Caspian kept roaring at the lions."

His lips twitch into what might be a smile but she's not too sure, "Ceraphina said you only let them get one stuffed animal."

Well, shit.

Soarynn is sure that his children are more than used to telling him about every interaction where they're denied something, and she can probably guess what happened to the people who were the cause of those upsets.

But she has to stand her ground the same way she did with Ceraphina. They're very alike, Ceraphina and her father.

"I did," she confirms.

He raises his eyebrows and he looks almost...impressed? No, that can't be possible. "You're the first nanny to ever tell her no to something. She's very used to getting her way."

I can tell, Soarynn thinks, "Is that a good thing?" She asks, tilting her head slightly. He lets out a breathy laugh, "Yes, it's a good thing. I can't have my children running around spoiled and demanding."

"They're not demanding," she quickly says, defending the children, "or spoiled. They're very sweet. It just seemed unseasonable to give them everything in the gift shop. Life doesn't always work that way, even if you want to protect them."

Her words seem to strike a nerve with the President because he frowns, "I have to protect them. They're all I have now that their mother is gone."

Soarynn knows how men like him think, how their children are more than flesh and blood. They're his legacy. Without them, his name, his work, his family will die alongside him. He'll do anything to keep them safe.

"I understand sir," she says softly, "and we were very safe today at the zoo. The children enjoyed it very much."

He nods, scratching the back of his neck, "Good. I'll have to let you take them more places then, they need the interactions with other people."

Soarynn stares down at her shoes, wondering how high of heels she'd need to wear to be at eye level with President Snow. He's so tall, so...overwhelming. She feels the same way she did in the stairwell earlier today, unsure of what to do.

"I'm sure they'd appreciate that," she finally says, giving him a polite smile. He stares her down for a second, his cold gaze analyzing her face which only makes her feel more self-conscious than before.

"You look just like your mother."

That just about knocks the wind out of her.

He's older than her, and old enough to remember her mother before she died in childbirth. Soaryn's heard it countless times, how she's the spitting image of her mother but she didn't expect him of all people to comment on it. Not here, not now.

She finally regains her composure and nods, "I've been told that before sir."

His eyes travel up and down her body, "I always thought your mother was beautiful, she was always kind to me. Do you think of yourself as kind Ms. Nightingale?"

"...it takes a special type of person to be genuinely kind..."

Eudora's words echo over and over in her head while she thinks of a suitable answer. She doesn't think it's possible to always be kind but she sure tries. She doesn't really have a reason not to be kind.

"I try to be sir."

"I think you might make my children kind."

"All children are kind, it's the adults around them who make them cruel."

Soarynn has seen it before, how sweet, kind children have been turned into monsters due to their upbringings and the influences around them. She won't let that happen to these children so long as she works as their nanny.

"Goodnight Ms. Nightingale."

"Goodnight sir."

Soarynn walks past him, her hands shaking and her breaths uneven. She's never been around a man as unnerving as President Snow but he probably prefers it that way.

The only time he lets a sliver of kindness show is when he's around his children for a mere hour a day.

What a terrible way to live.

| Part 2. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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sugarushwriting · 2 days

Text

vampire enhypen ot7, you’re their human blood bank. (part SEVEN!!??!)

they weren’t happy you ignored them

you’ve been punished; it’s the next day

you’ve learned some things

everything starts to fall apart for the boys

what happens next?

not proof read. feel free and please reblog, like, comment share!! but do not repost or translate.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

when you awoke the next morning, you found yourself in a familiar bed with familiar surroundings.

jays room.

you remember falling asleep in jake’s room after crying yourself to sleep after being exhausted.

you could still barely move, but had a bit more energy and strength to move your head and arms, but not the rest of your body. you internally cursed. how were you going to go to class?

you heard hushed whispers coming to the door so you quickly closed your eyes pretending to be asleep, calming your heart rate so they wouldn’t notice.

jay and sunghoon entered the room. “she’s still asleep.” sunghoon said.

“good. it means she can’t run from us.” jay said next.

“are you sure we didn’t go over board?” sunghoon asked worried.

“she’s still breathing, so that’s good. i don’t need her to be a brat right now and try to get past us.”

“what’s your plan jay? we keep poisoning her?”

poisoning? you almost blew your cover when your leg jerked but the guys ignored it after they quickly looked you over once more.

jay sighed. “if that’s what it fucking takes, yes.”

“it seems her body may be fighting the poison from our fangs or its wearing off.” sunghoon mentioned. you didn’t need to open your eyes to know he was staring at you. he was waiting to see if you would awake.

“it’ll be a while. jake was the last to go, and knowing him, he probably couldn’t control his use of fangs. it’ll be at least 24 more hours before it comes close to wearing out.”

you heard footsteps coming closer to you, and you had to continue to remain calm. you couldn’t blow your cover, especially after what you heard.

jay tenderly moved your hair from your face, cradling your cheek.

you pretended that his touch is what woke you up. you groaned from his touch, trying not to be repulsed. you slowly opened your eyes to a smiling jay.

“good morning love.”

sunghoon came next to you as well. “how are you feeling babydoll?”

your mouth was still dry. “sore.” you croaked out. “i—i can’t move.”

jays smile grew larger. “that’s okay love, you just had an exhausting night. get some rest. don’t worry about classes for the rest of the week.”

jay kissed your lips, sunghoon then kissed your forehead. “we’ll be around if you need us, doll.” sunghoon said softly.

he and jay walked out, and your mind raced with all kinds of thoughts,

mainly focused on they poisoning you? you racked your brain from yesterday, then realized they each did use their fangs on you. jay was first. he didn’t bite, but it felt like a pinch and then after he was done, you couldn’t move.

you became weak and exhausted.

same with sunghoon. and heeseung. and jake.

wait—jake.

jake didn’t use his fangs!

you gasped at the memory. jake didn’t use his fangs on you! meaning, the last to use the poison from their fangs was heeseung. maybe that’s why you had a bit more movement.

you looked around the room, noticing your phone was on the nightstand beside you, and your belongings were on the floor in jays room.

you finally noticed, and thankfully, was dressed back in a black oversized shirt and black boxers.

jay probably thought you wouldn’t have the strength and the only reason why he left your phone out next to you.

you mustered up all the strength you had to try and reach for your phone.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“how is she?” ni-ki asked the olders as they came down the stairs.

“she’s okay still weak, but to be expected.” jay answered.

lucky for the three younger ones, they didn’t hear what the four oldest did to you. jay had made sure they had something in either their drink or food to make sure they slept through the night, and to repress their hearing. the youngest also didn’t realize they boys used the poison their fangs contain, to get you to behave, basically.

the youngest aren’t sure really what happened, other than jay found you not feeling well after class.

ni-ki finished his breakfast. “well i should get going before im late to class.”

“you don’t have class for another hour and a half.” jungwon said.

ni-ki froze in place getting up from his seat. sunoo smiled then teased, “he’s going to meet a special girl.”

“she’s not a special girl, she’s just a girl. that’s it. a simple, ordinary girl.” ni-ki argued.

“she better be. don’t get attached.” jay scolded. “the last thing you need is to get into more trouble because you couldn’t contain yourself and fed on another damn human.”

ni-ki bit his tongue, but before he could make a snark reply, his phone dinged from a text message.

eunchae: what coffee do you want today?

“i gotta go.” ni-ki said instead.

“we’ll come with you.” sunoo smiled.

jungwon and sunoo both got up to grab their school bags.

“we’ll make sure he behaves.” jungwon told the oldest boys.

“we will? i just wanted to snoop and meet this girl.” sunoo said.

ni-ki rolled his eyes and went to walk out the door with his two shadows behind him.

once they left, jake spoke, “how is she really?”

“she fine.” jay said shortly. “she’s living and breathing. that’s all that matters.”

“are we gonna just keep pumping her with our poison?” heeseung asked annoyed. “i didn’t like doing that to her.”

“it’s not like she felt anything if you did it right.” jay said.

sunghoon sighed. “she’ll be weak for another day or two since jake was the last one.”

jake’s eyes went wide as he scratched the back of his head. “about that—,”

all three snapped their heads to jake.

“jake?” sunghoon began, worried about what jake did or didn’t do.

jay intensely stared. “you did use your fangs, right?” he asked through gritted teeth.

jake sighed and shook his head. “jay, she couldn’t move at all! i was scared if i injected her with more poison she would’ve died or became permanently paralyzed.”

“shit.” jay yelled and ran up the stairs to his room. sunghoon, heeseung, and reluctantly jake followed behind.

he slammed his door open, almost causing it to knock a hole in the wall behind the knob.

there you were, on the ground, trying to crawl. jay looked up, your phone was still on the nightstand untouched. he let out a breath of relief then walked over to you.

“love, what are you doing?”

“don’t touch me!” you screamed, trying to pound your fist on jays chest. “get off of me! what did you all do to me!” you screamed trying to keep the tears at bay.

you still couldn’t move your lower body. jay was relieved at least half of you was still poisoned from their fangs.

“baby, everything is okay.” heeseung came up from behind jay, trying to calm you.

“fuck you heeseung!”

the doorbell downstairs rung.

“jake go answer it.” jay stated in his authortive tone. he was not happy with jake right now.

jake made no argument as he turned to answer the door downstairs.

you continued to crawl to make your way towards the door, but jay stepped in front of you and bent down.

“you’re not going anywhere love. i told you, you belong to us.”

you looked up to jay with tears in your eyes. “jay please—im sorry.”

jay picked you up and threw you back on the bed. he extended his fangs, ready to poison you once again, until he heard jake yelling for him and sunghoon to get down stairs quickly.

“keep an eye on her.” jay ordered to heeseung. he nodded.

jay and sunghoon made their way downstairs, arguing and mumbling wondering why jake couldn’t handle the guest at the door.

it wasn’t until jay and sunghoon made it to the bottom of the steps that they froze in place at the women standing in the foyer.

“sa—sakura?” jay swalloed.

“kazhua?” sunghoon said in shock.

“hi boys.” they both said in unison. with them was other girls, one with a bob, and the red hair girl sunghoon met the other day at your dorm. jen.

“this is chaewon and yunjin, or you can call her jennifer.” sakura introduced.

“we need to talk.” kazhua said. “immediately.”

“we are kind of busy.” jay said, still not believing sakura was standing in front of him.

how did she find him? how long has she been at this school?

“oh we know.” chae said with her arms crossed.

“go find her.” sakura ordered to chaewon and jen.

“you can’t just—,” sunghoon began but sakura silenced him.

“we can and we will. go girls.”

chaewon and jen went upstairs to find you.

“how did you know she was here?” jay asked.

“she texted us. i knew she had to be here.” sakura said calmly.

“you all talked to her, didn’t you?” sunghoon asked angrily. “feeding things into her mind that isn’t true!”

“we just told her about our past with you. we didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know.” kazhua stated calmly.

jay and sunghoon didn’t appreciate how calm they were.

jake stood in shock that he was finally seeing and meeting the girls who changed jay and sunghoons life.

sakura and kazhua finally noticed jake’s stares. they nodded and bowed to the boy and he did the same and return.

jen and chaewon brought you down the stairs in their arms and your stuff on one of their backs. heeseung was right behind them.

“she can’t move her legs.” chaewon said.

“drop her.” jay ordered but the girls didn’t.

“he said, drop her.” sunghoon also ordered but the girls weren’t phased.

“your mind control won’t work on us, vampies.” jen said. “just like it won’t work on her.”

sunghoon took a breath in anger. they gave you something, they had to. that’s why you didn’t come with him that day.

“she will be coming with us.”

“no, she belongs here, with us. she is ours.” jays patience has left out the window. his voice got deeper. “you are not to take her.”

just then ni-ki walked in with eunchae laughing.

“ni-ki.” sunghoon said in warning. who was this girl?

“hi eunchae.” sakura greeted then turned to jay, “seems like one of your own is cozy with ours.”

“you just had to become friendly with a fucking seraphim.” sunghoon shook his head.

“hey! she’s nice and nothing is wrong with her.” ni-ki defended.

“this is eunchae? the damn girl you’ve been mentioning?” jay scolded.

“what’s the big problem?” ni-ki asked.

eunchae moved over to the older girls. slowly but surely your feelings in your legs was coming back, so you were able to just lean against jen to help stand you up with balance.

“you disobeyed us.”

“no! you said i just couldn’t be alone with a human. she’s not human now that you know.”

“that’s it you are going to switzerland.”

“no i am not! i have done everything you asked of me since i last messed up.”

“this sounds like a family matter. we will leave now.” sakura stated, and all the girls turned to leave.

when the boys tried to stop, sakura had enough and held out her hand, weakening the vampires. they immediately got headaches.

“we will be leaving with her and you will not be able to track us.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

it took another day, but you started to feel like yourself again. the boys poison had ran its course through your body, and the seraphims kept a close eye on you.

jay and sunghoon were distraught when you left, jake and heeseung mad at themselves for going along with the plan to begin with. jay was not happy with jake because without his poison, you were able to reach out to help. jay put all the blame on jake.

ni-ki has been ignoring jay due to his threat of sending him to switzerland. sunoo and jungwon had an idea of what happened, but stayed quiet to stay out of the mess.

you rested in the bunk below eunchae, reaching out to all your professors stating you had a family emergency and they were understanding, sending you your school work for the next 2 weeks.

sakura also had a helping hand in them being so nice and understanding about it.

the next day in class, ni-ki went up to eunchae to apologize about the olders behavior towards her the other day.

“it’s fine, im not surprised.”

“how is she?” he asked about you. eunchae hesitated. “i am not going to tell them if you tell me. im still pissed at them myself.”

eunchae sighed. “she’s okay. she’s better.”

“can i come see her, please?”

“i don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“please. i promise this is for me, not them.”

eunchae reluctantly agreed but made ni-ki blind folded so he couldn’t see the house. once inside she took the blind fold off and sakura gave eunchae a warning look.

ni-ki bowed apologetically with respect. “i am not here for them. i am worried about her myself. i promise i will not tell them about this.”

eunchae took ni-ki upstairs where you were. you were shocked to see ni-ki but relaxed. you, eunchae, and ni-ki just talked about random things.

it wasn’t until around 8 at night when ni-ki returned.

“go pack your bags, ni-ki. your flight is tomorrow.” jay ordered.

ni-ki scoffed, “i think i rather be anywhere but here.”

everything and everyone was falling apart.

“jay, go easy on him.” sunghoon said. “he probably was just with eunchae. no word on any humans hurt.”

“i don’t care, sunghoon. he blatantly ignored our rules once again.” jay said, leaving no room for any kick back.

that night ni-ki packed a duffle and showed up on the seraphims porch. he may not have remembered the house, but he could remember the smells around the area.

eunchae answered the door after receiving a call from him, “dude, it’s one in the morning!”

“im sorry,” ni-ki apologized. sakura came behind eunchae seeing the younger boy with tears fighting behind his eyes.

“come on in. you can sleep on the couch.”

sakuras inner mom side came out, although she wasn’t really a mom. honestly, she saw ni-ki as her own child like eunchae. they both were around the same age, and not to mention became a supernatural creature at such a young age. it’s not easy.

sakura made sure ni-ki was comfy on the couch, thankfully their couch big enough for the tall boy. she put some fruit out with tea and water. “i don’t have any blood, sorry.”

“it’s fine, i packed some.” he chuckled and got comfy on the couch. “thank you.”

“of course. you’re young. you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“what’s going to happen with or to me?” ni-ki asks worried.

sakura sighed, “i don’t know, but let me figure it out, okay?”

you laid in bed wondering what was next for you. you couldn’t avoid the boys forever. you couldn’t hide forever, could you?

if they went through this much trouble to poison you and keep you at bay, what would they do next?

you sat up quickly in bed, and climbed the ladder to eunchae’s bed. you shook her awake.

“how do i become a seraphim?”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

i just need to note, I AM NOT SHIPPING ANY OF LE SSERAFIM WITH ENHYPEN

i am not shipping eunchae with ni-ki!!! i just think they would be great friends!!!

#enhypen x reader #enhypen ot7 #vampire enhypen #enhypen vampire au #le sserafim #seraphim #fanfic writing #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #au fanfiction #fanfiction

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drghostwrite · 3 days

Note

Your work is amazing!! My obsession with Regina mills is so bad and I need your help because I swear I see her as a power bottom 😫😫 AND NO ONE ELSE DOESSS. If it’s okay please could you write a Regina and reader fic where the reader is a service top? LOVE YOUUUU

Omg hehe YES!! I can so see her being a power bottom, mmm yes okay so here we go. I’ve never intentionally written this dynamic so here goes nothing, let me know whatcha think. Also thanks for the suggestion love. 😙

Pairing: Regina Mills x wife!reader

Summary: Regina’s lover brings her breakfast, a visit that turns… steamy.

******************************************************** Your heels clicked on the hard marble floors as you made you way to your wife’s office. When you got up this morning she wasn’t in bed and her car was long gone so you assumed she had gone into the office, on your way to the station your assumption had been right. So being the amazing wife you were you stopped by Granny’s picking up some pancakes and coffee and made your way to her office.

You stopped outside the door and read the bold letters, Mayor, you knocked softly hearing a very annoyed ‘come in’ from the other side. You could almost feel the eye roll from the woman behind the desk.

You slowly opened the door to see her reading over some paperwork, her elbow on the desk holding fingers pressed against her temple as her other hand held a paper and pen. She didn’t even bother to look up as she heard you enter.

“This better be important or so help me…” she started, looking as annoyed as ever.

“Well that’s no way to greet your lover, is it?” You teased as you walked towards her desk. She looked up at you surprised, her eyes raking over your body as you walked in. You were wearing all black, her favorite, a vest and pant combo, the black shirt underneath to match, your holster and badge displayed on your hip.

“Hello darling.” A smile playing at her plush red lips.

“My love.” You nodded and came around to her, bending down to kiss her soft lips, your hand softly ghosting her cheek. “I missed you this morning.”

“Well duty calls, especially when you work with idiots.”

“Hmm…” you chuckled leaning down to kiss her more passionately.

“So tell me detective, to what do I owe the visit?” She teased, grinning against your lips.

“Can’t I just bring my wife some breakfast?” You poked, kissing her again. Setting the bag and cups on the desk, taking your badge and gun off laying it to the side.

“Mm, depends on what else comes with the breakfast.” She pulled you closer by your belt loops, finally standing to meet you.

“Well whatever her majesty wants she gets…” you trailed, as she pushed her tongue into your mouth, you fought for dominance before just letting her take over.

“Rough morning?” You asked kissing her neck, her perfect red lipstick now smudged.

“Darling you have no idea…” her breath warm against your lips, as you picked her up setting her on her desk

“What can I do to help?” You said pulling back and looking into the mischievous brown orbs as she grinned back at you. She wrapped her toned legs around your waist as her well manicured fingers played with the buttons of your vest.

“I think you know…” she trailed with a smirk, running her tongue seductively along her perfectly white teeth with a smirk.

“Mm… maybe you should lock the door first, wouldn’t want anyone to catch the mayor with her thighs wrapped around my head.” Your low sultry tone gracing her ears.

“Mm…” she chuckled, “why not let everyone know who you belong to, show everyone that you’re the only person that makes me feel this good.” She raised her hand with a little purple wisp and you heard the door lock.

You chuckled, “doesn’t mean they won’t hear you…” you trailed bites and kisses down her neck as her hand tangled in your hair. She pushed your vest off, you leaned back helping her as she ripped your shirt open, buttons hitting the floor and rolling under exquisite furniture, exposing the black lace bra underneath. Black was her color but God did she love seeing it on you.

“I liked that shirt…” you whined while leaning to kiss her. Soft hands were running up your exposed sides, pulling you closer.

“I’ll buy you another one…” she smirked. In between heated kisses you reached back undoing the zipper of her top and pulling it down. Her perky breasts spilling over the exposing black lace lingerie that she wore underneath, you could see her nipples perfectly through the lace.

“Damn you’re gorgeous…” taking in her beautiful body, undoing her bra and tossing it to the side, placing open mouthed kisses down her collar bones and over her luscious breasts. You used your tongue to lightly ghost over a hardened nipple, before pulling it into your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you before moving to the other pulling the soft flesh into your mouth, your fingers moving to the other to tease. Pinching and twisting her nipple between your fingers at first softly but then harsher the pain turning to pleasure for her. The first of many erotic moans falling from her lips. You started leaving little nips, forming little red marks that would be purple by morning. Something that Regina typically didn’t mind, unless she had no way to cover them up and hide them from the office for the rest of the day.

“Y/N, dear…”

“Yes my love?”

“Behave…”

“Or what?”

“I’ll make you…” she groaned out. And you chuckled leaving another mark along her chest, she cocked an eyebrow at you seeing the defiant smirk you had on your face.

“hmm…” you chuckled against her chest and placed small kisses over the now reddened marks. You felt her hand that had been tangled in your hair reach around and grab your neck, slightly squeezing as she lifted you to meet her eyes, her bottom lip trapped under her glossy pearly white teeth, she loved when you mouthed off cause it meant she could put you in your place. One of her legs moved up and settled on the chair behind you, her red bottom stiletto clicking against the handle, you ran a hand up the smooth olive skin slowly pushing up the fabric of her lifted skirt.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and show your queen what that tongue can really do?” She whispered out in a low growl, spreading her legs even wider in front of you as she perched on her desk.

You met her hooded brown eyes and slowly bent down, pulling the chair closer, weaving your arm under her leg that was up on the chair arm, letting it rest over your shoulder while your skilled fingers lifted her skirt. You slowly ghosted your fingers over her clothed core, feeling the small spot of wetness, “so wet for me…” you said breath hot on her thighs as you nipped at her, snapping the waist band of her black lace panties against her hip before slowly sliding them off. She let out an approving moan as she watched you place open mouthed kisses up her thigh, she let her head fall back her mouth open as she chuckled to herself.

You worked your way up her inner thighs, drawing it out the best you could before you felt her hand weave through your hair, forcing your head down closer to her dripping core. You ran your tongue flat against her tasting her. Pulling your fingers through her folds and collecting her slick, looking at it glisten on your fingertips, setting up and watching her through your eyelashes you sucked on your fingers and released them with a pop. “You taste amazing…” you said as she looked into your devious eyes, biting her lip once again. The hand currently in your hair tightened demandingly as you bent down and pulled your tongue over her again, this time coming dangerously close to where she needed you most, watching her as she bit her bottom lip and then pulling her clit into your mouth. Her head fell back in pleasure with a small whine of relief that turned into a groan of pleasure as you used skilled licks and sucks to bring her closer and closer to the edge.

“You look so perfect down there between my legs, eating me out like a good girl.” lewd moans filling the room as you moaned into her sending vibrations through her core.

Thankfully no one was actually around to see how perfect you looked between her legs. Regina was sitting legs spread on her desk, upper torso exposed to the world decorated in an array of reddish purple marks as you were in front of her, her perfectly manicured hand gripped your shoulder as the other tangled in your hair, your hand held her hip steadying her. Her toned leg in her perfect designer heels over your shoulder.

You reached down using two fingers and curling them into the spongy spot that made her go wild, pumping in and out slowly adding a third. You could feel as her thighs clenched around you, her hand forcing you closer and closer, you started to feel lightheaded but you were determined to please your wife.

You felt her thighs begin to shake and her moans become more breathy and frequent as she got closer, chasing her high. You snaked a free hand up and pinched a nipple between your fingers before grabbing her entire boob in your hand. Letting one last low vibration come from your throat as you worked on her clit, you heard her let out one last soft moan working her through her orgasm. Coaxing her until she was lifting her hips away from you, overstimulated by your tongue on her clit.

You sat up and pulled her down into a kiss, feeling her soft plump lips on yours, she could taste herself still on your tongue. Thinking about the fact that she could taste herself when kissing you drove you both wild, a sign that you belonged to her and her only.

“Next time you bring me breakfast I prefer it be in bed, instead of my office…” she chuckled, finally breaking the heated silence and chuckling against your lips.

“Well maybe next time I can fuck you senseless over your desk and I won’t have to worry about going back to work.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged… you are married to the mayor after all.” She smirked, pulling at you ripped shirt, still partial tucked into your pants, pulling you closer and sliding her hands over your smooth skin exposed to her.

Before she could do anything else her desk phone rang and she picked up, “Hello?” She eyed you cautiously.

“Yes, if you don’t mind sending it over…” you eyed her mischievously and bent down to place soft kisses on her thigh before placing one bite drawing a gasp from her lips, risking her wrath for later that night. She hung up the phone and glared at you playfully.

“if I didn’t have to get back to work I would punish you right now…”

“Saved by the mayor then?” You poked sarcastically knowing what would be waiting for you later. With a wave of her hand your outfit was put back together and she was smoothing out her clothes.

“I will see you later tonight my love.” You said kissing her before making your way out.

“Y/N dear?”

“yes?” You turned.

“I seem to be missing…”

“these?” You asked holding up a black lace pair of panties as your trophy, “you’ll get them back later.” You said folding them in your pocket with a smirk.

A stern but excited look crossed over her face knowing you were being a brat on purpose, “you’ll get your punishment tonight.”

“On that note…I love you.” You said with a wink and sly smirk, sliding out of her office as she called a stubborn, I love you, after you.

******************************************************** @poisonappleeater @gayestswiftie @thesamesweetie

#x yn #x reader #female reader #regina mills x reader #regina mills #ouat x reader #ouat fanfiction #ouat #x reader smut #wlw smut #smut prompts #office #office smut

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dorthyanndrarry · 2 days

Text

Unknown -4-

Tags: Angst, Post war deatheater prejudice, light injuries, chronic illness, post war trauma, dark magic, blood magic, alcohol use/abuse, self destructive behaviors,

Suggested rating: Teen

<- Part 3 ||

Draco pushed a small pea around his plate with his fork. He had eaten everything served but the peas and carrots. Popo was otherwise an exemplary house elf chef except when it came to vegetables, which he would only prepare boiled. Sometimes, Popo might add a little butter if he was feeling fancy. This was not a fancy day.

He looked over at his mother's plate, she had eaten a few bites of the chicken, and most of the rice. He had been dawdling, hoping she might eat a bit more but it seemed unlikely. Narcissa was leaning back in her chair, slowly turning the stem of the still full glass of wine in front of her. She looked distant. Whether from exhaustion or memories, Draco couldn't hazard to guess.

Draco cleared his throat, "Did you happen to look at the papers I left you? From the realtor?"

Narcissa's hand stilled on her wine glass.

"I thought the country estate in Kent looked quite good, it's muggle but quite removed, the nearest neighbor is-"

"We're not leaving," Narcissa said shortly.

Draco stifled a sigh. "...Of course not," he said reassuringly, "it would just be for the summer, a nice summer holiday. The sea air would be good for your health." If he could just get her there, get her away from this place then-

"I'm fine, Draco, perfectly fine," Narcissa said, lifting her chin imperiously and sitting up straighter. "You are needed here, at the Manor. It's where you belong."

"Mother-"

"You are the head of the house now. The reputation of the Malfoy's must be restored-"

"Mother, I don't-"

"I know it will take a great deal of work, Narcissa continued, talking over him without any sign of hearing him speak, "but your Father and I did it after the first war, and we can do it again."

Draco put his fork down and picked up his wine glass, taking a deep swallow as his mother went on and on. About Ministry positions, as if they'd hire him to even clean the floors, making connections, if he could find anyone of influence that would speak to him, marriage and heirs- Draco snorted into his cup, pouring the rest down his throat. That would never happen. He refused to inflict the toxic name of Malfoy on another person.

The only idea his mother had that might work was making charitable donations to popular causes. Because money was all they had left. That would at least get them a few people being willing to tolerate them, to their faces, anyway.

Draco refilled his glass and lifted it to his lips. The wine was filling his mind with a soft hazy feeling that made it easier to swallow all those words that were always just behind his teeth when his mother got into one of these rants. Otherwise, he was afraid he might begin shouting, might shake his mother by the shoulders to try and get some sense into her.

"Mother." Draco interrupted tersely, "You just made me promise not to go out by myself anymore. Remember?"

Narcissa looked at him through narrowed eyes before looking away dismissively. "Working at the Ministry would be different. No one would dare hurt you there."

"Sure," Draco muttered into his glass.

Narcissa delicately folded the napkin in her lap and placed it on her mostly uneaten dinner. "I'm feeling a bit tired. I think I will retire early tonight."

Draco went to stand.

Narcissa held up her hand, waving him back into his seat as she stood. "I'm fine to walk on my own."

"Are you-"

"I'm sure," Narcissa said. She smiled tiredly and brushed a kiss across Draco's temple, "We can talk more about this later. I shall see you in the morning."

"Sleep in," Draco said hopefully, "We can have brunch."

"We'll see," Narcissa said as she stepped out into the hall.

Draco reached across the table and picked up his mother's glass of wine, drinking as his mind churned with frustration. It seemed like no matter what he said or did, his mother would not let go of this place, this family, this legacy. He scowled as he finished the glass, grabbed the wine bottle, and poured out the last few swallows. Again, he was unable to leave the past behind. He couldn't even move to the continent because his mother was not allowed to leave the UK as part of her probation.

He picked up the wine bottle and frowned at its emptiness.

"Libbi!" He called impatiently.

The elf appeared at his elbow, watching him with a distant expression. "Yes. Libbi is here."

"Whiskey, " Draco said.

Libbi snapped her fingers, and a bottle of amber liquid and a tumbler appeared before him.

"Thank you," Draco said, but Libbi was already gone.

Draco plucked the stopper out of the crystal decanter. He only meant to pour in a splash of whiskey but accidentally filled half the glass. He pressed his fingers into his temples as he took a swallow large enough to make him wince.

"Fuck it," Draco muttered and stood up. The world swam around him, and he grabbed the back of his chair for support. He finished the whiskey with another swallow and wince, putting the glass down. There was a sound of shattering glass as it fell through the wavering edges of the table and shattered on the ground. It was probably an heirloom, some elf crystal or something.

Draco snorted derisively, steering himself around his chair and out the door. He kept one hand on the wall as he walked down the hallway, knocking over an empty plinth he could have sworn wasn't there before.

He went back to the library.

Draco pulled the pin from his cloak as he made his way to the stone wall. His hand slipped and cut a large gash across his palm, but he hardly felt it.

He smeared a streak of blood across the stones, "Open." Nothing happened, and he frowned. "No, it's..." his brow furrowed, "My blood, something... by my blood open?"

Draco stumbled back as the stones unfolded and revealed the hidden bookshelf. The metal bar was held in place by a clever metal latch, something that a spell couldn't open because it wasn't really a lock. His hands were frustratingly clumsy as he twisted and slid the metal pieces until the metal bar came free and swung out on a hinge.

Draco leaned close, squinting at the line of books until he spotted the book from before. He jerked it out of the row, trying not to touch the other books and sending three tumbling to the floor. Draco quickly stepped back from the fallen books in case they were the biting kind.

The book in his hands was cold to the touch and smelled faintly of dried blood. Draco didn't bother reading through it, flipping past pages promising him riches, power, and revenge; none of it was what he wanted.

He wanted to start over.

That's all he wanted.

Draco fumbled out his wand, nearly dropping the book. He paused before casting, clearing his throat and enunciating as clearly as he could. His wand movements were stiff as he focused hard to keep them true.

"Accio a new life."

The pages fluttered past and fell open on a spell called ' Relegati Obliterum'. Draco stared at it for a long time, trying to remember his Latin instruction from the years before Hogwarts. The obliterum was Latin for forget; the same word was used in the obliviate spell. So it had to be some variation of obliviation, but it was based on runes cast from a spell circle. Which meant... meant...

"Fuck, what does that mean again?" Draco rubbed his eyes. "Fucking Hogwarts, and it's fucking limited curi... curicu? classes."

Draco snapped the book closed. "Spell circles cast outward from the centre! So- to to make everyone not in the circle forget, and if they forget what I did, then- then I can start over."

A shiver of excitement ran down his spine. This was it. This was the key. He couldn't cast it here, though. There wasn't enough room. And there would be questions if his mum happened upon it. That was no good.

He went to his suite of rooms, retrieving the decanter of whiskey as he passed the dining room. His new rooms were at the end of the east wing. They were never used when he was young and mostly ignored during the war. Draco had moved into them the day he returned from his trial.

Draco spent most of his days in his potion lab, only returning to his rooms to sleep. The small sitting room had a single ratty armchair by the fireplace, the floo always kept closed. The adjoining bedroom had an old four-poster, the curtains pulled down and vanished, an ancient wardrobe and a threadbare rug on the floor.

Without a glass, Draco drank directly from the heavy crystal bottle, spilling more than a couple of times as he rolled up the rug and shoved it out of the way, the oak floorboards beneath the carpet lighter than the floor around it.

He conjured a piece of chalk and used a charm to draw the central circle and inner ring. It only took a few couple many tries, but he got it. There were no charms for drawing sigils, at least none he could remember. So, on hands and knees, sweat dripping off his nose and soaking into the wood, Draco sketched the sigils by hand. The cut on his hand kept reopening, blood staining the chalk and markings, making it hard to hold.

His knees were screaming in pain by the time he was done. He stumbled to his feet, legs nearly giving out under him. The whole world spun, and his stomach lurched. Draco grabbed hold of the bedpost for dear life, squeezing his eyes shut, a tear slipping down his cheek.

Draco went to grab the book sitting on his duvet. His foot hit the whiskey bottle, and he almost fell, catching himself on the bed. Draco gasped, startled and upset. He kicked the bottle across the room. His chest was squeezing so tight it hurt; he felt sick.

Draco took a deep breath and roughly scrubbed the moisture collecting in the corner of his eyes. He grabbed the book and stepped into the circle's centre, careful not to smudge the lines. The instructions said something about saying the incantation unencumbered. Draco couldn't remember what that meant. He wasn't sure he cared.

His eyes kept blurring as he tried to read the incantation, a mix of latin and something else he didn't recognise. He traced the words with his finger as he said them, still careful to enunciate even as he was foolish to be casting it at all. The sigils began to glow one by one as he spoke, the glow becoming brighter and brighter until the light became fire and burned him away.

goddamn writing is a lot harder than I remember it being😥

Tags below v💜 same as always, leave a message or reblog to get tagged in the next post

@dewitty1 thank you❤

@grecianheart thank you!

@bug-bytes thank you💕

@dcriojas8 thank you!

@bugsbookshelf thank youuuu

#dorthyannwrites #dorthyanndrarry #drarry fanfiction #drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter

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themeraldee · 1 day

Note

I was thinking about how what Homelander clearly considers part of Madelyn's betrayal, alongside the lying about him having a son, was her being afraid of him. And that fear being why she appeased him the way she did, *just like everyone else does*, when he'd hoped she was different. That she actually cared. But no, like everyone else who actually SEES him, she was scared of him. This made me think, what if he figured the only way a person could truly love him on a personal level would be if they'd had no exposure to who he is. Someone who doesn't know about the violence, who he can just be the charming hero in the sunlight for (I guess this would be pre his S3 revelation that certain people still like him even when he kills in broad daylight lol). Or so he hopes. He is desperate to please, after all. So then I thought, what if he somehow cultivated a relationship like this, away from Vought, and then this person was presented with the dark truth about him. Maybe from someone aligned with Butcher, maybe just accidentally, but for the first time he sees that familiar fear flickering in them too. This person who was supposed to be uncorrupted. Who was supposed to love him. Who he'd been so good for. I can see multiple endings to that scenario, some much darker than others. I guess a lot would depend on how this person reacted, if they could still accept him, how deep that fear goes. Anyway sorry for the very long ask! No pressure to do anything with this, I just wanted someone equally obsessed with this hot mess of a man to bounce it off of.

anon I AM OBSESSEDDDDDD. I feel a series brewing.... I honestly ADORE this idea. I love how heartbreaking it was to him that even though Madelyn has known him for so long and has been a part of like everything he's ever done she was still scared of him. How crushing must that feel that the person who's been by your side and at your beck and call for decades is afraid of you???

Him whisking you away to live this peaceful apple pie life with America's true hero you can't believe just happened to fall for you just to have the curtain pulled right in front of your eyes.

afagfhjdfadjlhf

I'm such a sucker for giving Homie all he wants and needs so like I totally want reader to go low-key darkside. Like. You realise noone will ever love you the way he does. Isn't a little grey morality worth this all-consuming eternal love you'd otherwise never feel again. Forever chasing this feeling the rest of your life.

After he finds out that someone spilled the beans to you he comes home crushed. You're nowhere to be seen. Again, another attempt at love ruined. Does he not deserve to have that? He undresses leaving his bloodied suit (after whatever carnage he came back from) in pieces on the floor frustrated, not bothering to clean up before you come home.

Except he wakes up to you being there in the morning cooking breakfast for him. You greet him with a, "good morning. I did my best to wash your suit. I didn't wanna ruin the fabric and throw it in the wash so I hope that's good enough. I really need you to find out for me how they usually wash it for you." You're being so nonchalant, talking about his bloody, viscera covered suit that you painstakingly scrubbed in the morning right as you're making some eggs and bacon for breakfast.

And he's kinda just staring at you shocked, waiting for you to meet his gaze. And when instead of fear he sees love and acceptance it's like his heart could burst from the relief.

ORRR it could go dark and sad - which I won't get into buutttt much to ponder.

#i totally have 0 capacity to start something new BUT I WANTTTTT #I NEEEEEEEEEED #ugh #can't I have infinite time to write??#thank u for this anon #this fed my brain worms very well #homelander x reader #asks!

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redsrooftopprincess · 2 days

Text

Assassin, Part 3

Fem Reader x Raphael

Warning: graphic description of a bipolar crash (or, at least how I experience them) over this chapter and the next. Please take care of yourselves and don't read if you think it might trigger you. Much love to my fellow rapid-cyclers. 💚

After the storm of emotion had passed, Splinter sat with Raphael until the moon had crossed over the house, discussing the matter more calmly with his son. Eventually, Raphael felt stable enough to at least make it to bed.

The front steps groaned under his weight, and the paint flaked off the banister like snow in July, as he made his way up the front porch. Today had been a lot.

It had started out beautifully. The early morning mist held fast to the light of dawn as the five of you spent the morning setting everything up. Light swirled around your waist as you worked on place settings, and he was pulled to you.

He walked up behind you, just watching for a moment, affection blooming in his chest. You had ruined his life in the best possible way. Meeting you had brought up so many things he thought he'd let go of a long time ago. It made him hurt in ways he can't even begin to describe. And he is so very grateful.

You'd held each other, swimming in the golden light, and for just one moment he knew how it felt to hold sunlight in his arms.

Then, the ceremony.

Raphael reaches for the screen door handle and depresses the button, pulling it open. The hinges screech their usual protestations, and he cringes as the sound digs the exhaustion headache further into his skull.

That low had hit hard and he should have been expecting it. It'd been a minute since he got triggered like that, but you've always had a way of getting inside his head... You were so damn beautiful...

"Hey," you'd said, peeking around the door to the "boys room" where Casey and the guys were drinking waiting. "You guys almost ready?" When you stepped around and into the room, Raphael forgot how to breathe.

Perfectly coifed and painted in pin curls and neutral make up, and adorned with matching teardrop moissanites in your ears and around your neck (a pre-wedding gift from your brother), you looked like you'd stepped off the silver screen in 1940.

The silk of your floor length forest green dress flowed around you like ink in water, and the thin straps holding it up might as well have been non-existent. His eyes followed the curve of your neck down to your shoulder. His mouth watered and his mind wandered. He wondered what it would taste like. He looked away. Fuck's sake. Couldn't he just look at his beautiful friend in peace?

Minutes later, you'd slipped your arm through his as the two of you waited for your cue to walk down the aisle. A light dusting of pink bloomed in your cheeks when his arm had brushed against your silk covered breast, and your warmth radiated through contact. That warmth poured into his veins, and he felt something in his chest begin to spin.

It had been such a good week. Too good. And some part of him knew that. He'd drawn a deep breath, and exhaled, maintaining a mask of calm. He could feel the crash coming, and prayed he could at least make it to the other side of the wedding before it hit.

He'd spent the week in bliss, planning, packing, driving, and setting up his best friend's wedding with the most beautiful, sweet, smart, and sassy woman in the world. Now, he was going to pay for it.

Don't think about it. Don't think about where you are, or what this is, or that she's literally about to walk down an aisle with you. *Don't* think about it.

The awaited cue came and the two of you stepped out into the early evening light. He'd tried so hard not to look at you as you crossed the threshold, but it had been a lost cause from the beginning.

A Summer Goddess walked beside him. Skin full of golden sunlight, you'd caught his eye out of the corner of yours and your playful smile could have lit up the world. When three steps in the skirt of your dress fully bloomed to reveal a scandalous amout of leg from the slit three-quarters of the way up your thigh, he nearly tripped.

Every look, every brush of silk against his skin sent ripples through him, pushing the spinning in his chest faster. It was the longest twenty-five feet of his life.

When you reached the archway, you turned to him and your hand slid, feather light, down his arm into his. He gazed down at you and smiled.

He wanted to stop you. To pull back on your hand and pull you into him. To take his own and place it softly against your cheek, the other around your waist. He wanted to look into your eyes with every word he's choked down since the moment he met you. He wanted to slide his hand into your hair, tilt your head up, and capture your mouth with his.

This was the closest he would ever get.

With one last gentle squeeze, your hand slipped from his, and his fingers tingled from the loss of contact. You'd each walked to your respective places, and when the music changed over and Bride walked down the aisle, all eyes were on April.

Except his.

...

Tag list:

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll

#bayverse raphael #tmnt raphael #bayverse raphael x reader #raphael x reader #raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader

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moonkhao · 1 month

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hi.

#i know most of you didn’t even realize i was gone #but man…#my mental health was like in a state of 📉📉📉 in the past 30 days like we love being mentally ill and fucking insane <3 #it was mostly bc i panicked and started obsessing over possible water damage in my flat kind of out of nowhere #like it started when my landlord came to check my bathroom bc my downstairs neighbours had water stains on their ceiling back in july #which had been caused by their shower curtain apparently but i was already spiraling when my landlord told me so i was sure it was my fault #i was assuming it was bc of me bc i had sometimes been spilling some of my bathwater and i was like WHAT IF IT HAS GONE THROUGH THE FLOOR?#and it didn't help that it has been hot af and very humid in my apartment LIKE WELL OVER 25 DEGREES AND 60% HUMIDITY #anyways i couldn’t shake this not matter what i tried and my fucking insane brain made me think i was going to get arrested for like #flooding the whole building or for causing some sort of mold infestation #i had SO MANY panic attacks; i wasn't able to sleep; i wasn't able to eat; i was on edge and panicky basically 24/7 so fun fun fun :D #and i kept waking up in the middle of the night and HAD to go check my walls or the space below my kitchen #it was compulsory like i couldn't not get up and go check and tbh i would've thrown out all of my furniture if i could've to check for mold #(and shhhh i know how fucking insane this sounds but having a mentally ill brain that's anxious all the time does suck ass sometimes 🥲)#(the worst thing about it tho was that i was SO AWARE of how insane about this i was being and yet i couldn't stop losing my mind over it)#(also i was so ready to move tf outta here bc i couldn't handle being triggered 24/7 which is why my mom let me stay with her last week )#i was so out of it that i couldn't even let myself do the things i usually enjoy... like at all #like watching my shows or spending any ungodly amount of time on tumblr... or replying to messages i got from people who i love #ig this goes to show HOW bad this actually was for me mentally bc usually tumblr and my shows are like my safe place #anyways we finally had a leak detection dude come over today and we had him check the water levels in my walls #and he said everything is fine and he specifically told me i should stop worrying about any water damage BC THERE IS NO WATER DAMAGE #he also said that the weather has just been insanely humid this year so it's not surprising that the humidity levels are higher than usual #i’m still a bit scared about some possible mold but ig this is good enough for now #i am aware how ridiculous this must sound for anyone who's reading this now but couldn't let it go not even with meds so let me live pls :(#TLDR I WAS GOING THROUGH IT BUT I AM BACK I THINK AND I AM MOST LIKELY GOING TO START BOTHERING YOU WITH MY GIFS AGAIN <3 #AND I JUST REALIZED I HAVEN'T EVEN SEEN ANY OF THE HEART KILLERS STUFF YET ASIDE FROM ONE OR TWO PICS LIKE :(#OH AND I NEED TO START WATCHING SUMMER NIGHT ;_;#sabrina talks #@AIRENYAH GIRL I AM SO SORRY I WILL PROBABLY REPLY TO YOUR MESSAGES LATER TODAY OR TOMORROW MORNING ;_;<3

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hafwen · 10 months

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Toni has discovered that the toilet paper roll on the holder is a really fun to play with even when all the toilet paper is on the floor because then you get to destroy it

#left last night to normal toilet paper on roll in the holder not on floor #came in this morning it was on the floor and some of it had been torn apart #Confetti time #very funny #she has lost toilet paper roll privileges #we’ll just bring it in if we think we will need to use the bathroom while in her room #she is such an absolute delight #so i have cats and a dog #Toni #we found a kitten

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 11 months

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a darling and a virgin | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

*************

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t even describe it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

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thinkinonsense · 30 days

Text

JUNO⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

logan howlett x young fem!reader.

cw: slightly nsfw, reader is 25.

a/n: this is very rushed but short n sweet is on repeat and juno has been on my mind nonstop. can't wait to see her on tour next month! <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Logan wasn't stupid, he saw the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. You were yearning for him in every way possible, but Logan knew better than to corrupt a sweet girl like you. Yet, he didn't want any of those little boys on campus to have you either. They could never treat you right.

It was torture of Logan; but he had to keeping a gap between you. Never giving you the chance to pounce on him.

That was until spring break came.

Everyone in the mansion had returned home for the two-week break. Only a handful of people stayed, including Logan and yourself. He watched out his window at you in your tiny skirts out in the garden. Logan could deny the aching desire deep within himself but you knew that he was craving your touch.

You weren't one to shy away from your feelings; instead, you made them known.

"Gotta sec, Logan?" You asked, cornering him in the kitchen one morning.

When he turned around Logan feared a groan might slip past his lips. The last thing he expected was to see you in a cute baby blue slip nightgown. He was convinced you were sent as karma for all his past damages.

"No." He grunted, moving past you quickly and into the hallway.

"C'mon, Lo.." You whimper behind him, following him like a lost puppy. "I know you're avoiding me."

"Aren't you observant?" His voice leaked with sarcasm.

Logan reached his room, about to slam the door in your face and deal with some personal issues. Your hand slams against the large wooden door, keeping it open enough to slip past.

"You aren't welcome in here, sweetheart."

Logan pulled a cigar from his pocket and sat in one of the chairs in his room. That didn't stop you from standing in front of him, demanding answers. A shiver rushed through you when the smoke tickled your tummy.

"Why are you being so cruel to me?" You ask as sweetly as you can sound.

Logan took one look up at you and he immediately regretted it when he saw your little pouty face and wide eyes. He refused to answer you, instead staring at the floor and waiting for you to leave.

"I want you." You whined. He felt like you just stabbed him in the chest. "I know you want me too, Lo."

"Don't do this to me, sweets-" His words fall short when you sit on his lap.

"I'll be good for you."

Now you were being the cruel one; moving against him with lustful eyes.

"Just want you to adore me..." You purr against him, taking hold of his two giant palms against his sides. "Want you to hold me, to explore me..."

Logan was at your mercy. Your soft moans are making it hard for him to resist you anymore. His hands finally moving under the night gown to squeeze your flesh. You leave a trail of kisses up his neck; pausing by his ear.

"Mark your territory."

Logan groaned loudly, pushing your hips to his with force.

"Let me be your only, Logan."

Logan smashed his lips into yours, swallowing your pretty moans. He didn't care if it made him any worse of a person. He just needed you; and boy, were you gonna get more than just some butterflies from Logan.

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streetlamp-amber · 2 months

Text

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

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