#either calling me mommy or offering to make me one

[wlw-cryptid]

i love when butches tell me happy mothers day

[stylosha]

i am a firm believer in that akasha is marius' mother figure and their relationship is intentionally meant to parallel him and his human mother

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I am going FERAL over this imagine:

So basically Bruce brings reader home to be his new daughter/the boys' new sibling but Uh Oh! They now want you carnally and reader is just like "you said you wanted me as a daughter/sibling, wtf is this" and being their platonic darling is better than being shared between them romantically so reader tries to come off as innocent and child/sibling coded by being like "yeah I've never actually kissed or dated anyone before aren't I just so innocent" and the boys are like :)))

So then Dick says you can call him your boyfriend "just to feel it out" and Tim starts blatantly stealing your panties and Jason says he can give you your 1st kiss so you can "practice" with him and Bruce offers to teach you how to touch yourself and (and him) and when you try to walk it back cause the boys are being Freaks they're in their delulu era so eventually you end up tied to the bed with the boys and Bruce drawing straws over who gets to take what 1sts (like 1st date, kiss, virginity, ect).

And Damien is just in the background absolutely SEETHING cause the the boys and Bruce's Horny Time keeps interrupting his Mommy Time with the reader

And reader using Damien as kind of a shield cause what are they going to do, feel you up in front of a CHILD? Like just, "Stay Platonic :))"

Just that kind of pseudo incest makes me Feel Things (*/∀＼*)(///∇///)

I'd love your thoughts/a fic based on this! Ty ❤️

TW: Brief mentions of pseudo incest(y) scenarios/behavior, manipulative tactics, yandere tendencies

(Okay so I’ll answer this with my thoughts for right now.)

I know I primarily write incest(y) related topics for my Game of Thrones/ASOIAF stuff but I have been tempted to/curious about branching it out into some of the other fandoms I write for 👀. (I’ve had a few ideas rolling around in my noggin for a bit if anyone is interested.) So I would be willing to give this a try. I’m down to experiment with some new stuff, within reason of course.

I imagine the Reader being older (probably 19-23), maybe even having been a runaway of sorts or not having a very stable home life, so when they’re given the ‘offer’ to become part of the family they’re looking to fulfill a familial void they’ve never experienced or have forgotten how it’s felt like. I definitely see Bruce and the rest of the boys keeping a very close eye on the Reader before they decide to finally bring them into their family, basically full on stalking them from the moment they caught their attention (you know how the Batfam works). It wouldn’t be a surprise if even before the Reader was with them physically that the boys developed a more carnal desire for them. At first, their intentions were completely platonic, but with all the lengthy observing and information gathering of their supposed-to-be-new-family-member eventually something changed in how they all saw their darling.

I really see the change in their obsession starting with either Dick or Tim first. Especially regarding some accidental or purposeful peeping Tom foolery. I feel like Bruce would be the last to fall victim to the change in direction or at the very least he’s the last one to admit to it. If Damian is younger than I see his obsession staying strictly platonic, but if he were much older than I could see him involving himself to the same depths as his family.

At first, I see things happening subtly. Knowing that at the very least a few of them are already in an obsessive-romantic headspace in regards to their darling before they even physically become part of the family the guys would try to be as welcoming as possible without revealing their true intentions. They don’t want to scare you off right away, they want you to walk into it semi-willingly at least. But the interactions with the Reader would show something else. The lingering touches, the being much closer to you than really necessary, the heated grazes over your clothes here and there that leave you wondering if that actually happened or not. I also kind of like the other members not being fully aware of each other’s change in obsession, everyone giving each other the side eye until it sets in and then all out war of who gets the darling to themself unfolds only to eventually end up with them working together and agreeing to share. That’s when Bruce’s heel-turn is revealed.

Once things get truly amped up, the interactions with the Reader really begin to escalate. The boys would walk around shirtless more often, all of them trying to get their darling to look at them, to really look at them. Eventually, it’s not just them being shitless but either them in nothing but their underwear or nothing at all. They start out as accidents but eventually it’s pretty loud and clear that the guys want you to see them, all of them, to even touch them and feel them to your hearts content. But thats not all, of course it’s not. The touching of their darling only gets all the more intense, to the point that you know damn well that they’re touching you and they want to leave you wanting for more. So much more. The Reader’s innocence and lack of experience would only spur them on even more. They absolutely thrive off of it. They all want to be your first, your first everything. There will be a lot of secret ‘lessons’ being given behind closed doors and telling of “Don’t tell Batdaddy or he’ll get real mad.” “Don’t let Jay know, or he’ll want to punish you for not doing this with him.” “Let this be our secret, (Name). Something just for you and me.” “Can’t tell anyone about this or they’ll ruin it for the both of us.” And they only get even worse from there.

I can’t see Alfred being okay with this in any situation, whatsoever. I think he especially would feel like Bruce and the other boys completely took advantage of the Reader and he would try his best to aid them in trying to keep up with the platonic intention of this entire fiasco. He would be a total cockblock, even going as far as helping Damian in his cockblocking endeavors. Alfred’s intention would be to play both sides so he knows how to help the Reader when it comes to Bruce and the others but it wouldn’t take too long for them to figure out that Alfred is working against them. Like, Alfred was all for the familial-platonic obsession but when things started getting more romantic he was ready to shut that shit down ASAP. You can’t tell me he hasn’t, at least a few times, locked Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim out of the house to give the Reader some peace and give Damian his much deserved allotted time with them.

Speaking of Damian, he is a menace (as per usual) but even more so than normal. He really doesn’t take too well to the new direction of his father’s and brothers’ obsession for the Reader. He thinks it’s pretty messed up but he sincerely likes and cares about the Reader and he wants them to stay, he wants them to continue being a part of the family forever so he’ll let some things slide. Some. He even may be willing to look the other way when it eventually comes to Bruce, Dick, Jason, and Tim baby-trapping the Reader if it means this whole ‘family’ thing becomes set in stone with the arrival of a new ‘sibling’. But for the most part, at least early on, Damian would be a huge pain in the ass for the other family members. He feels like he needs to step in to save his darling from the others and their ulterior motives. He’s all his parental/older sibling figure needs, at least at that point. He may even try to runaway with them to keep them safe from the others. Hell, he may even get his mother involved if he was desperate enough, especially if he saw the Reader as a parental figure. Or maybe even another Justice League member to either adopt him and the Reader so that he could have that family experience he was promised with the Reader. Or he would be completely content just living the rest of his life just him and the Reader, platonically of course.

It would either take Bruce or Dick to have a talk with Damian to get him to come to some agreement to allow them to continue with what they’re doing in regards to the Reader. I think Dick would get away with manipulating Damian much better than Bruce could. I think Damian would have some opinions about his father especially throughout this whole situation. Especially since I see Damian being very observant of how Dick, Jason and Tim are behaving towards the Reader early on and picking up on the fuckery taking place, even going as far as telling Bruce about it under the belief his father would be on his side (not ever fathoming the idea of his father also doing similar things to the Reader without him ever knowing). As far as Damian knew his father was completely platonic towards the Reader, as a ‘father’ should be. Right? So understandably Damian feels not only betrayed but also disgusted when he finds out that his father was and still is taking part in, acting in a similarly depraved fashion as the others.

Eventually, I could see them coming together and being one big ‘happy’ family. But it sure as hell comes at a price. (Usually the Reader’s freedom and sense of self outside of the obsession they’ve been dragged into, to drown in alongside their yandere(s).)

[slimmestofshady]

Bad Habits Kill You

Summary: The 90s in Detroit wasn’t exactly easy to live in with two kids and a boyfriend who redeveloped a bad habit.

Warnings: Drug Addiction, relapse, toxic relationship, abusive on both sides, accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, swearing, mention of smut, mention of drug dealing, breast feeding, robbery

6 calls, 13 text messages later and you found yourself driving home with your 3 year old daughter strapped in the carseat, livid that Marshall hadn’t picked up the phone. Working two jobs and trying to live life comfortably was becoming difficult as you felt like you were the only one here trying to keep the family afloat. This had been the fifth time this week you had to leave early and pick her up due to your boyfriend not showing up. Two write ups later with the check engine light on the car, hardly any gas in it and needing an oil change that you couldn’t afford you unbuckled her, carrying Ellie inside only to hear your newborn screaming once again.

Scoffing, you pushed open the broken screen door, the object squeaking when it was pressed back only to find Marshall’s blonde head fast asleep on the couch, a bowl of weed sitting right out on the rickety table next to Sara’s play pen.

“Mommy, why is daddy always tired? He never eats with us either.” You knew what this was, rehab hadn’t been working and it wasn’t just the sleeping pills he was taking. What were you supposed to say to her?

“Daddy’s just been very busy, why don’t you go play with your toys? Okay?” You smooched her on her delicate little head, ruffling her hair. A child at that young of age shouldn’t even have to ask those questions or ask why other kids have more than you did. Even in a relationship it felt like you were a single mother just trying to make ends meet. 

Picking up Sara from her crib you kneed him lightly in his side in irritation, causing him to moan and groan, mumbling something about being cold in the process. You kneed him again to which he turned around and shouted in his groggy state, his baby blues eyes dilated with dark circles shading his white skin.

“What?!” His temper was not in the slightest controlled, only pushing you farther past your limit of being civil or concerned for his well being.

“You were supposed to pick Ellie up, and do you hear that? That’s your other daughter crying to be taken care of which I can see you’re doing a great job at.” He clenched his jaw, folding his hands together, rubbing them. He got up, closing the distance between the both of you pointing an accusing finger directly in your face.

“I know how to be a fucking parent Y/N. Besides you’re one to talk, did Andre fuck you yet cause he been blowin up the phone all god damn day.” Taking Sara to her room, you rolled your eyes from having the same argument every fucking day while laying her in the crib, but he followed.

“At least he offers to watch the kids, more than you’ve ever fucking done! Tell me how many pills did you fucking pop today and don’t lie to me because I can see you’re clearly stoned. Fucking blanked out and shit.” You closed the door once you layed her down, refusing to argue with him in front of the kids but that didn’t mean they didn’t hear.

His hand wrapped around you arm pulling you back until you were pushed against the wall of the tiny hallway, giving you no personal space as he spat his venomous words.

The tensions was rising, only fueling your immense anger. This was the same old song and dance as every other fucking day. Why didn’t you leave? Well it’s easier said than done when you loved someone.

“I’m not fucking stoned babe I’ve been working on a new song and just fell asleep. Besides I don’t see you bringing any money so where you been if it ain’t work?” He pulled out a red piece of paper in his pocket with the words “EVICTION NOTICE”. Snatching the paper out of his hands, you noticed they only were giving you a week to pack your shit and get out due to being nearly three months behind on rent.

Scoffing you shoved the paper at his chest, trying to walk away but he didn’t let you shoving you back against the wall again.

“Marsh, don’t start your fucking shit okay?! I’ve been working my ass off but god forbid I work a full fucking shift because your ass has to be sat on this fucking couch, smoking dope and taking your fucking sleeping pills and xanax!” As he started cussing you out, you didn’t think before slapping him harshly across the face when he accused you of cheating once more based off the basis of no money coming in yet you’re always “at work.”

“What the fuck y/n! You don’t want to play this fucking game with me aight?!” Right before you could spit fire back, Ellie walked out of her room crying, causing you both to stop. She was just a child and didn’t ask or sign up for any of this. A sympathetic look of sorrow washed over Marshall and yourself the tension dwindling ever so slightly when you saw her teary, beading eyes, her cheeks reddened from the hostile situation.

With open arms, he picked her up cradling her against his chest as his hands rubbed her back gently.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Mommy and I will stop arguing okay?” You crossed your arms, huffing from this constant fighting but seeing how quick he was when he was awake to console her, and ensure those crybaby tears stopped was heart warming. He had the potential to be such a good dad if he would just set the drugs aside but maybe that was too much to ask.

“My-my tv is gone, all-all my stuff is gone!” With frantic eyes, you both pushed open the door to see the room a wreck, and multiple items missing. Some of her blankets on her bed, her stuffed animals gone, even her piggy bank that had nearly $500 in it. It had taken over a year to save it, in hopes of starting a fund for her when she was 18, and now it was just gone. 

You couldn’t hold back the tears, feeling like everything was just crumbling down. They flowed freely down your cheeks, Marshall noticing and trying to pull you in to his side with his other arm but you waved him off, walking into the bedroom and closing the door. How much more of this could you take? There were shootings at least once a week, you were barely able to afford food, living off food stamps that barely covered shit. Whenever it seemed to be going great or a little better than before, everything would just turn to shit.

As you slumped down onto the bed, you couldn't help but notice the bathroom light still open, the shattered mirror from the night before slightly ajar.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you walked into the room with a dreadful feeling, hoping you weren't right. Taking a deep breath, you opened the object only to find the 3 pill bottles completely empty with their lids off, how much shit did he fucking take.

There was a knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, but when you heard his voice asking if he could come in your blood boiled. When you didn't respond he pushed the door open, Sara no longer in his hands. When he saw you had found the empty bottles, he had a guilty look on his face but not remorseful.

There was a dead silence as you stood with your arms crossed shooting daggers his way.

"Tell me again that you're not fucking using. I'm not fucking stupid. How do you expect me to become closer with you when you can't even own your shit! This is getting old, and I don't know how much longer I can do this!" A switch like the atomic bomb flipped inside of him and he wasn't thinking before he pushed you on the mattress as you pounded against his chest, but you were never a match compared to his strength.

He folded his hands around the warmth of your neck, shaking you in place but not squeezing hard enough to cut off circulation.

"You don't know what it's like! Who the fuck are you to judge me huh? We're livin in this broke down piece of shit fuckin trailer, I'm tryin to fuckin write songs and start a good life for us, while you bring some dude around our fuckin kids when I'm not home, actin like you perfect, you ain't perfect either!" The tears welled in your eyes in a mix of emotions. He was right neither of you were but how did you get to this point. You had a plan, a good one, but everything kept getting taken away from you. It was like playing ring around the rosey but always falling down. You stared into his ocean eyes while sniffling when he finally released your neck.

"Fuck!" He screamed with profound irritation. You were both tired of fighting nearly every day, it was draining but the love was still there even if it was minuscule at times.

"Can you tell me truthfully I'm not being replaced by your fuckin' boss at work?" His eyes settled for a moment, just needing to know the truth.

"Marshall there is nothing there, nothing has happened. I'm just trying to find someone to watch the kids and I clearly have to even when I'm not home." A sorrowful look of hurt and guilt crossed over his face. You weren't wrong that he wasn't trustworthy to his own god damn kids and he wasn't wrong that you should've at least asked him about Andrei watching the kids. He was a private man, he didn't like strangers around the house let alone his kids.

As your breathing steadied, Marshall buried his head in the crook of your neck, allowing a singular tear to slip from his eye and land on your skin. He wanted to be better a father, a better boyfriend but it was so difficult during times like these.

"You need to get help baby..." A choked sob escaped you. You hated seeing him like this, he was better than this.

He had gone five months sober and when you noticed the signs he was using again you hadn't asked again after how irritable he was with you the first time, until today at least.

This wasn’t all on him though, the relationship issues anyway.

in his own head he felt there was no going forward, there was no escaping the impending, disastrous thoughts in his mind. The drugs soothed those intrusive thoughts, how could he lose himself inside his own head if he was asleep?

“I know, I know…” You both layed there for a moment in each others company. Neither of you calling the cops about the break in since they never seemed to actually do anything given where you lived.

“Maybe we should take the kids out for dinner or something, get Ellie’s mind off her things being gone.”

“Well how much do we got in the account?” You shook your head, sitting up and waving your hands up in the air with defeat.

“Not enough. I think altogether for the month we have around $120.” Fuck. He couldn’t do shit for his kids but somehow had enough money to get drugs? His mind twirled, the stress and realizing his priorities weren’t straight pressing an immense weight on his shoulders.

A thought crossed his mind of what if he started to sell only using every now and then? That would surely bring in money, especially around this neighborhood and keep you afloat for the time being but he didn’t say it.

He also had to worry about the kids. He refused to let them be homeless.

“Let’s take them we’ll figure it out. We aigh’t now?”

“Only if you promise me you’ll get help. I’m here to support you, okay?” Your hand caressed down his cheek as you stared into his baby blue hues, he nuzzled into your touch nodding before helping you out of bed.

Ellie was sat coloring with the crayons she still had on the living room floor wrapped in a blanket. That was another thing you were behind on, the fucking heat bill but that was a concern for another day. Luckly the electric and water seemed to still be on for the time being.

Marshall swooped her up in his arms peppering her face with loving kisses while ruffling her hair. He was always so good with her, such a caring dad and the sight made your heart melt. Moments like these made the fights seem almost pointless.

“Are you and mommy done fighting?” Her voice was so sweet and innocent, her small fist clenching and grasping at Marshall’s white shirt. The small gesture warning his heart. He just wanted his daughter to be happy.

“Yes baby. Daddy loves mommy we just have a lot going on, adult stuff you don’t need to worry about. Let’s get you and sissy some dinner, okay?” She nodded against him, perking up when he mentioned McDonald’s. It wasn’t the healthiest but it was affordable and it made her happy and that was all that mattered right now.

Passing her to you, Marshall went out to the car throwing a raggedy, old gray sweatshirt on before lighting a cigarette as he started the car. It took him about three times for the car to turn over, rickety old piece of shit, he was just grateful the heat was working for his angels. Checking the glove box, he ensured his gun was still there while a car passed by slowly, music blaring. He was skeptical of everyone and everything in this neighborhood, especially when something like today happens for the fifth time this year.

Pushing the door open, Marshall rushed to your aide to help Ellie down the stairs, avoiding the section with a nail sticking out of the wood while you carried Sara in your arms.

“Should we get gas?” You shrugged, nodding and informing him you still had work and Ellie had daycare to attend.

“How much we’re paying for that again?”

“Nearly $100 a month.” He hasn’t realized how expensive it was, scoffing and mentioning how the government expects people to live off minimum wage jobs and take care of their children.

Dinner seemed to be going smoothly, Ellie was making friends and playing in the play pin section of the restaurant while you and Marshall sat with Sara near the window in a close distance, sharing a milkshake while laughing over the memories of the past.

“Be careful sweetie!” Marshall yelled after Ellie noticing how close she was to slipping a falling off a plastic cube. She nodded to her dad, going back to her activity.

He couldn’t help but glance down at your tits, they’d gotten so big from the swelling of breast feeding. One of the things he loved that happened when you were pregnant. He bit down on his bottom lip intrigued, making a comment about how even after giving birth he still would take you right here right now over this table had their been no kids around.

Smacking him playfully with your cup, you giggled. It was about time she needed to be fed but before you could excuse yourself to the restroom, Ellie came up to have a drink break, not wasting a minute before she blurted out,

“Mommy, when is Andre coming over again? He likes to color with me and he talks about you a lot…” You we’re at a standstill for words, being left speechless by your toddler. Marshall’s jaw clenched, his hand forming a fist as he held his composure. He simply said, “Believe me now? Hows that for truth?” Ellie yanked on her dads sleeve, asking for a refill on her drink giving you the perfect way out of the situation.

“I’m going to feed Sara, I’ll be back in a couple minutes.

“Yeah, aight. You do that.” Arriving home, the car ride was mostly silent. Marshall laid Ellie down in your bed as she fell asleep in the car, too worried about her being in her own room and the same for Sara moving her crib for the night near the back corner of your room where the light wouldn’t be in her face but she’d still be close.

While you were still in the living room changing laundry, he stumbled into the back of the closet, reaching for a small box that was hidden under a flap in the carpet, popping a pill or two in his mouth, rinsing them down with water from the sink.

He closed the door lightly to not wake either of your kids, walking out into the living room and not hiding that he was not in a good mood, slouching down into the couch.

“So when the fuck did you plan on telling me that he been coming over into my fucking house with my fucking kids? You didn’t even ask me.” You sighed, knowing that resurfacing the topic if anything to with Andre would end badly, especially after the comment Ellie made.

“It was only one time babe, you were out with your friends, I was working late, Nate was out of town. I didn’t exactly have a choice. Those things Ellie said, I understand you are upset but until we can find someone else I don’t know what you expect me to do or what we’re going to do come next week.” Closing the dryer, you accompanied him on the couch, not looking for a fight but a resolution, but he loved to fight.

“I don’t want some strange, douchebag guy that wants to sleep with my girl around my kids Y/N. Plain and simple. Don’t worry about next week I’ll figure it out.” The way he ended the sentence meant there was no room for any other decisions. He wouldn’t allow it and quite frankly he was ready to choke this bitch out and arrange a little meetup in an ally to beat the shit out of him “And I don’t want a boyfriend who is high all the damn time yet here we are. Your bad habit isn’t just killing you, it’s killing us.” Yeah maybe you were right but maybe his trust issues got in the way of that cause as far as he was concerned if he saw Andre or even heard about him being here again he was gonna call up some of his buddied and make him a dead man.

This constant back and forth bullshit was getting you nowhere and frustrating the every living fuck out of him.

“I promise you I’ll go into rehab again once we get this shit figured out. But you gotta promise he ain’t coming around our kids anymore, and tell him to get rid of this fuckin number.”

“ And I will okay? No more Andre. I promise.” He nodded still not believing this guy was going to leave you alone but for now he wanted to relax, the pills already taking effect and making him drowsy he just hoped you couldn’t tell. Trying to avert attention from himself, his hands grasped your thighs pulling you into his lap and caressing your ass cheeks making you giggle.

“What’re you doing?”

“What I cant feel my girl up? C’mon the kids are asleep. We could get in a round or two.” That would be nice and a big stress relief, you could already feel his large bulge growing beneath you, causing your pussy to throb in anticipation while you rolled your hips down against him before pulling your shirt off, revealing your breasts.

“What’re you waiting for then?” You leaned in closely to his ear, lips just brushing over the bottom lobe and biting playfully.

“Fuck me.”

[reiderwriter]

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You🃏

Chapter 1 of That's What You Get

Next Chapter

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: After three weeks on a case in Vegas and a particularly draining phone call from your mother, you decide to take Reid up on his offer to show you the sights of Las Vegas. When you wake up the next morning, you realise one of those sights was a 24hour Wedding Parlor, and that you're now Mrs. Reid.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, loss of memory, marriage (yeah that needs a warning), mommy issues, mentions of emotional abuse, implied sex scene, use of handcuffs in a sexual way, they theorize a possible creampie but I will neither confirm nor deny at this point, talk of contraception, no actual smut though, you guys are gonna have to wait for that. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: The first chapter is here! Sorry for drawing you in with a silly little premise and then giving you mommy issues, I swear that after this chapter it's not bought up all that much. If you enjoy this chapter, you can sign up to the series taglist here, check out my masterlist and if you want leave a request! :D have fun reading!! ✨

Las Vegas, city of sin and entertainment capital of the world. Population approximately 600,000, home to the most famous casinos in the world, and unluckily for you, your latest unsub.

You’d been in Vegas for three weeks trying to hunt down this specific murderer, but now the case was all wrapped up and you could finally breathe, the weight of the stress you’d been carrying for almost a month now dissolving as you finally finished up the paperwork in the local precinct.

“Thank god that’s over. I cannot wait to be in bed with a good book and an empty head,” you groaned as you met the eyes of Penelope Garcia, your favorite tech analyst in the entire world and absolutely the only one you knew. She’d ended up having to join you on this case because some of the crime scenes just happened to be casinos that weren’t so happy sharing their data, but also didn’t want to be lumped with the warrant from the FBI. She’d been working between their offices and the precinct, and looked just as haggard as you felt.

“Oh, I feel you sister, this free travel experience thing is nice, but I would like to be back at my own perfect little desk hovel ASAP, thank you very much.” The two of you shared a small laugh, and then began collecting your stuff.

“Come on now, baby girl, you’re telling me that you don’t want to hit up the strip while we’re here? See the sights a little?”

“Sweet cheeks, I have been working from the most harrowing of surveillance units all week on that very strip. I have already seen the sights and they were not pretty, and definitely not worth using up my precious vacation time for.”

“Unfortunately Garcia, I don’t think you’ll be needing to use any of that vacation time to stay here,” Hotch announced as he walked in, and every member of your team snapped to attention to hear what he had to say. “I just got off the phone with Quantico, there’s a storm cloud moving in directly in our flight path and we haven’t been cleared for take off. They’re extending our stay by another day.”

“Shit,” you let out a silent curse, and noticed that your other team members didn’t seem all that happy about it either. JJ quickly excused herself from the room to call Will, Garcia let out a faux sob and fell back into her chair, and Rossi had the look of abject Italian disappointment on his face that he usually only got when you talked about your love of pineapple on pizza.

“How’s about that drink now, baby girl?” Derek Morgan teased, but it was half-hearted and you knew it. You were all desperate for bed, and you could only imagine the mistakes you would make if you went drinking now after the month you’d all just survived.

The only member of the team who didn’t seem put out quite yet was Reid, but you chalked that up to the fact that this place was his hometown.

“If you guys do change your mind, I know a bar downtown where you’re 34% less likely to be propositioned, robbed or over-charged.” He smiled over at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a giggle knowing the man was 100% serious.

“Dare I ask how you found that statistic, Reid?” Emily inquired from the other corner.

“One part actually reading the annual crime report, one part personal experience?” Reid replied, and you laughed again, unable to hold it back.

“Count me out, thank you,” you replied, and you could have sworn for a second you saw a flash of disappointment flash over his features, but you didn’t get the chance to question it, because a call was lighting up your phone screen.

You quickly excused yourself and moved to pick up the call from your mother.

“Mom, hey, what’s up?”

“What, I can’t check in on my daughter now for no reason?” you sighed and rubbed your temples, knowing exactly how this phone call was going to go, because it was how the last ten calls home had.

“Yes, mom, of course you can. How are you?”

“Terrible. Cindy’s daughter is getting married, and it’s all she’s talking about now. Can you believe it? The girl was absolutely wild when you were friends with her in high school and now she’s settling down with a lawyer of all people. Someone should warn that young man before he realises what he’s got himself into,” she scoffed on the other end of the line and you did your best to not get worked up. If you got angry it only made her more self-richeous.

“I know, Mom, Jessica sent me an invite, and I’m sure Trevor knows exactly what he’s getting into since they’ve been dating since high school.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that? You never tell me anything.”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I’m in the middle of a case right now, can I call you back later?” You did your best to escape the conversation before it devolved into something you really didn’t want to talk about, like yourself, and more specifically your love life. But the gorgon had you frozen through the line and you weren’t about to make the mistake of hanging up on her.

“I’m sure your boss could spare you for five minutes, over-working you like he does. You haven’t had the time off to come and visit me since you got that fancy little job of yours, so you can do me this favor at least.”

“Sure, mom.” At times like this, you knew it was best to just let her talk and ride out the wave.

“And I’m sure you don’t even have time to date. Are you taking care of yourself, at least? Making sure you’re at least presentable, I hope? Its like I always say, you could meet your future husband in one of those precincts, you know. Get a big, strong man to take care of you.”

You had to resist the urge to throw your phone. You’d explained to your mother time and time again that you were perfectly content being the big, strong man for yourself, but there was absolutely no getting through to her. You received one of these phone calls everytime one of her friends or coworkers kids announced an engagement, got pregnant or bought a house, three things that she was desperate for you to do, as well. As soon as you saw the instagram post from Jessica you’d been counting down the days, almost thankful for your mothers lack of online presence.

“A crime scene isn’t exactly the most charming of meet cutes, Mom.”

“Well, then what about Virginia? There are some fine men working at the FBI surely. What about that one coworker of yours, what was his name?” Your heart-race increased for a moment, praying she wasn’t about to put a thought in your head that you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Derek Morgan, was it? Now, that’s a fine young man.” This time you couldn’t stop the startled cry that came from your mouth. Sure, Morgan was an incredibly attractive man, but he’d joked around with you like a brother ever since you’d taken down your first unsub with the team. Your team was your family and your support system on the road, and they had your back on the case, so really, had your mother said anything, you’d have responded with incredulous guffawing. Hotch was like your dad, Rossi a fun Great-Uncle or something. You saw the sister’s you’d never had in JJ and Emily and of course Garcia was your best friend and you shared so many likes and dislikes that you regularly joked about being long-lost twins separated at birth. And Reid was Reid.

“Just give dating some thought, would you at least? The clock is ticking for you, you know.”

“Mom, I’m not even thirty yet. I’m in no rush.”

“That's what your Aunt Linda said, and look at her.” Your Aunt Linda was a perfectly content single woman in her late forties who had a high paying executive job, in NYC of all places, so yeah, you were in no rush at all.

“Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go, Hotch is calling me into the office to talk about some case files. I’ll speak to you later?”

“God, it’s like you don’t even want to talk to your mother for even five minutes. Go on, then, go do your big fancy job. Call me soon.”

“Yeah, Mom, I will.” And with that you finally hung up. Running a hand through your hair you paused for a breath for a second, closing your eyes and letting your hand just grip your hair for a second before releasing your breath for a second.

In the grand scheme of things, you knew that your mom wasn’t all that much to complain about. You and Emily had bonded over your respective mommy issues early in your time on the team, and you knew a lot of the other team members were either lacking some family member or the other, so you were just thankful that she was still around to annoy you, but god did she make it difficult sometimes.

Realising that any second, you’d have one profiler or the other come find you and ask you (with the best of intentions) what was wrong, you plastered a smile on your face and walked back into the office. You didn’t exactly want to relive that call anytime soon.

“Back so soon, Y/N? I thought that was your mom,” Morgan questioned you when you stepped back in.

“Yeah it was. One of my friends from highschool is getting married and you know how she loves to gossip.” You’d learnt early in the profession that you were in that the best way to hide something was to tell the truth about it for as long as you could, and then change the subject.

“Hey, Reid, you still up for a drink at that bar?” You looked hopefully at the man in the corner, and prayed noone would bring up your absolute change in attitude. “I was thinking a glass of wine or two after a successfully closed case couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Yeah, sure. You wanna head back to the hotel first and change, or do you want to go from here? Hotch said we’re free now until 2pm tomorrow.” You could see a questioning look from Morgan to your left, but you kept your vision focused on Reid, quietly thankful for the rest of the teams disinterest.

“Give me five to drop off my badge and gun in my room and freshen up a bit and we can be on our way. If this bar is bad though, Reid, you know I’m never letting you hear the end of it, right?”

“I ran the statistics, there’s only a 14% chance you’ll dislike it.”

“You know what’s scary is, I can’t even tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

–x–

Sarcasm or no, you had to admit, the bar he’d taken you to was pretty nice. It was a low-lit bar only a twenty minute taxi ride from your hotel and whilst it wasn’t exactly on the strip, it wasn’t so far out to be inconvenient. The best part about it was that it was lined with bookshelves, and each booth was blocked off by another, making it feel more like a library than a watering hole. You almost forgot you were in Vegas when you stepped in.

“Yeah, this is definitely a Spencer Reid place,” you said as you took the final swig of your wine, the glass you’d ordered on arrival having gone down easier than you’d expected.

“How so?” Spencer said as he returned to your table, carrying the replacement drinks he’d gone to order with him.

“Come on, Spencer. I’ve never seen the inside of your apartment but I’m sure it’s just this place with less furniture and more books.”

“Y/L/N, are you profiling me right now? Because that sounds pretty close to profiling?” Spencer teased and you rolled your eyes at him, grabbing your next drink from him and giving it a stir - the wine was good but at the price per glass you’d decided maybe cocktails were the thing for tonight.

“Besides, you did mention wanting to curl up with a book tonight, so I thought this bar was probably a good fit for you too.”

“Whose profiling who now, Doctor?” It was his turn to roll his eyes, and he took a sip of his drink. You knew he didn’t drink that often, but he seemed pretty open to the idea tonight, and you were absolutely glad for the company.

“Okay, I won’t profile if you don’t, but do you mind me asking you a question, Y/N?”

“Fire away,” you were playing with the stirrer in your cocktail, waiting for him to ask the question but he’d hesitated for a moment before speaking again, causing you to look up directly into his eyes.

“What’s going on with you and your mom? I don’t mean to pry and I didn’t overhear any of your call earlier or anything, but when you came in again you were all tense and you had that strained smile on your face. Then you suddenly changed your mind and decided we should get drinks so, I’m just guessing here, but you could probably do with talking about it, right?”

You let out a groan and let your head hang a bit. Yeah, you were starting to regret taking that role in the team of profilers. But at least Reid was sincere, and you knew his intentions were good. Of all the members of the team, you’d probably have described him as the safest. It was strange to think, considering all the comfort you found in your other friends, but there was just something so reassuring about Reid’s presence, the way most people overlooked him at first, how he could easily fall into his work and how you could see the cogs moving in his head as he made one genius leap to another that just made you think that everything was going to be okay if he was there.

So because it was him, you decided to talk.

“She’s just…She’s just a little much sometimes, you know?” He smiled back a knowing smile, but didn’t try to add anything and encouraged you to keep going.

“She’s been really persistent recently in bothering me about hitting some of lifes big milestones - marriage, kids, you know? And it always leaves me in a panic because though I’m pretty sure I want those things just yet, I don’t want the pressure of having them yet.” You swallowed the bile in your thoat and continued

“Everytime she says something, I feel bad that I don’t have them. And the way she talks about them its like they’re some kind of… of personal failure, that I’m not trying hard enough to catch a man or something, and I just wonder what if she’s right?” You start slow but you feel yourself gaining pace as you begin rambling, by the end you’re left wondering if Reid even caught any of that.

“I’m perfectly content living alone, but what if I’m secretly not, and I end up forty and alone and can’t even get a guy to look at me.”

“I can pretty confidently say that that’s not going to happen, Y/N.” Reid replied when you finally grabbed your drink ready to take another sip.

“How come?”

“You won’t have to put any effort into catching a man, Y/N.” Reid replied.

“You’re saying that because you’re my friend and you care about me Reid, of course you think that.”

“No, I’m saying that as an FBI Profiler that’s noticed the barman, the man on a date in the corner and the group of guys smoking outside the door eye you up since we’ve been here. And considering we’ve been doing paperwork all day, and the only change in your appearance since 8am this morning was the fresh coat of chapstick you put on while we were in the taxi, I’d think you hadn’t really put that much thought into what you look like right now.”

“You’re exaggerating,” and you really believe that, until you turn to look at the guy on the date and see him avert his gaze from you quickly, and you realise there might be something in what he’s saying.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t mean that I need or want to hear those things from my mother.”

“Y/N, take it from me, mother’s can be complicated.”

“God, I feel so stupid talking to you about something so trivial with my mom, I shouldn’t be doing that, we’re here to have fun.”

“Y/N, its okay. I can do the mommy issues talks, I’m perfectly qualified, but…” he trails off and grabs his drink for another sip and you find yourself hanging off his words begging for him to bring you more comfort and spoken caresses.

“But what, Reid?” you finally ask, as you realise he’s dragging this out on purpose to tease you a little.

“But how about a distraction instead? Have you ever been in a Las Vegas casino with a man that is banned from gambling in most of them?” He wiggled his eyebrows a little as he asked that and you giggled again, grateful for the reprieve from the serious talk.

“That doesn’t sound all that fun, Spencer.”

“Oh yeah, it’s not, but we could always use those vouchers we got as a token of appreciation earlier in the bars and drink some pretty fancy alcohol?”

“Spencer Reid, you are finally speaking my language.”

“I’m still speaking English Y/N, but if you wanted me to switch to russian or some other language, I could accommodate that depending on your linguistic preference.”

“It was a joke, Spence, now let’s get out of here.”

With that, he stood and dramatically offered you his hand like a gentleman, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow when you took it and guiding you swiftly out of the sweet bar. You were with Spencer, your safe friend, close work colleague and probably the least likely member of the BAU Team to get into trouble in a bar in Vegas. What’s the worst that could happen? You thought, as you took a final step out into the humid night air of Las Vegas.

–X–

The first thing you noticed in the morning was the pounding in your head, and it was pretty much the only thing you noticed for quite some time. When you managed to finally unglue your eyes, the second thing you noticed that this definitely wasn’t your room. The third thing you noticed was the gaping hole in your memories that explained how you possibly could’ve ended up wherever it was that you were. Or really any memories from the night before at all.

Letting out a quick groan you sit up in bed and take stock of your surroundings. Although the layout is different, you quickly recognise the interior matches the hotel you’ve been staying at, so you’re thankful that you’re at least somewhere relatively safe, and most likely in familiar company. The room looks to be neat on the whole, but there’s obvious signs of a drunken escapade strewn everwhere - two champagne flutes and a drained bottle, the contents of your purse spilt onto the chair in the corner, some random balloons in the corner you must have picked up somewhere in a drunken stupor, your clothes discarded in a trail to the bed.

That last one wakes you up a little bit more, and almost embarrassingly, you look down at yourself and see your lack of clothing, pulling the covers of the quilt closer to you as you feel yourself flush.

Fuck.

There’s a shifting in the bed next to you, and you look down in horror to see exactly which member of your team got you so plastered last night. You try to move to see who it is, but theres a tightness around your wrist and you’re pulled right back down into bed. You look down at your arm, and that’s when you realise you’re really screwed.

There, around your wrist and restraining you against the bed, is a set of handcuffs. FBI standard. The insinuation flames your face as you whip around to see which close friend and coworker you maybe - possibly - hooked up with last night, too embarrassed to look at your hand any more.

Luckily, your mystery man shifts again, and you catch sight of the nest of brown curls right before he turns over to see you, so when you finally meet the eye of Doctor Spencer Reid, you don’t scream in surprise.

“Y/N? What are you doi-” he cuts himself off as he lets his eyes trail down your body, quickly noticing your state of undress and pulling himself up into a seated position. He is similarly disrobed and it takes all of your strength to pull your gaze away from his bare chest to look literally anywhere else, your face practically flaming now.

“Spencer, would you mind helping me out over here?” you manage to squeak out quickly, as he does his best to avoid your eyes. “I seem to be a little stuck?”

That draws his attention back to you, and he finally notices the strange position of your arms and the handcuffs keeping you pinned to that spot in the bed.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry, fuck,” he quickly pulls on the pants he discarded by his side of the bed and scrambles over to you, tripping over once in his haste.

“Do you know where the key is?” you ask as he arrives at your side again, your free hand clutching the sheets over your breasts like your life depended on it.

“If that’s my pair they should be in the safe in the nightstand with my creds, give me a second to look.” After a second, he reaches the aforementioned safe box, pulling it open. He roots around inside it for a few seconds and then he spots something ad you watch the blood drain from his face.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you spit out quickly, tongue still heavy, and lips probably still swollen, from the night before, so you trip over the words a little. He pulls out the keys from the draw, and you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re still tense as he reaches back inside the draw and pulls out something else.

“Y/N, there wouldn’t happen to be a ring on that hand would there?” Spencer still isn’t looking at you, still staring intently at whatever else is in his hands. You try to angle your head to look, but between the restraints and the fact that Reid had turned his back to you couldn’t quite see what it was.

“What? No, I don’t wear a ring on this hand-” you cut yourself off abruptly as you look down and see it. There on the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that is still chained to the bed by your partners handcuffs, is a ring. There’s a ring on your ring finger. You just woke up in Las Vegas with no memory, in your coworkers room, naked, with a ring on your ring finger.

Your heart drops to your ass as you snap your head back around to Spencer, who finally works up the courage to look you in the eye.

“I think you should look at this” he stutters out and finally presents you with the other item he pulled out of the draw. Your jaw drops open and the pounding in your head turns into a continuous buzzing as you see yourself presented with a marriage liscence. Pinned to the corner with a paperclip is a polaroid picture, and you recognise yourself and your clothes from the night before, with the addition of a veil and bouquet, your arms slung around Reid’s neck as he pulls you in for what you can assume was a pretty passionate kiss.

“Y/N I think we got married last night.”

For a second you could’ve sworn your heart stopped. This was not happening, not to you, not right now. How stupidly drunk could you have gotten to have actually gone and married someone you weren’t even dating. And considering your current lack of clothing, it was dawning on you that you had probably done a little bit more than what was in that photo.

“Spencer unlock these handcuffs right now, so help me God,” you breathed deep and screwed your eyes shut, hoping that wihtout the distraction of the glaring lights you’d be able to remember some of what you’d done last night, but nothing came to you.

Reid, for what it was worth, got you unlocked quickly. You winced slightly as you pulled your arm away from the position it’d been in for however many hours.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry, I should have undone those last night, I don’t know why I didn’t, I’m usually pretty good at remembering stuff like that.” Reid rambled, running a hand through his hair and pacing slightly at your side of the bed. You pushed yourself up and watched him for a minute, just looking at this man who was now, probably, your husband.

Your husband.

You shook the thought from your head and cut his rambling off quickly.

“You put me in these?” you asked, just desperate for any clarification on any of the events of the last 24 hours, not fully grasping the implications of what you were asking until Reid was looking down at you with a flushed face and a mouth gaping like a fish, struggling to find the words to say.

“This is my hotel room. Those are my handcuffs… I kind of just assumed…” he trailed off the thought and you were right with him, the embarrassment heating your face just as much as it had his. You found it hard to meet his eyes the, and dropped yours to your lap.

“So you don’t remember, either?” You almost sighed in relief at that. If even a genius with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory was in this state after a night of drinking, then you really couldn’t be blamed for getting so drunk you married your coworker and most likely had some pretty kinky sex with him, remembering absolutely nothing on top of that at all.

“Do you need me to grab you something to wear?” he asked as he looked down at you, letting his gaze trail probably a little bit too low for a little bit too long. You grew heated under his stare, as your body reacted, and you realised how easy it must have been to fall underneath him last night if this was how you were feeling from just one look.

But you pulled yourself out of those thoughts quickly, and it seemed that so did he, as he began grabbing clothes from the floor and handing them to you, turning away as you started getting yourself into a semi-decent state.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you heard Reid mumble to himself as he made his way around the side of the bed, and in your concern for him, you called out.

“Anything specific those curses were for, Spence? Because I know this isn’t exactly the most ideal situation, but four Spencer Reid swears in a row is a cause for concern.” You tried to joke, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety of your predicament.

“I can’t find…” he started and then dragged a hand over his face, trying to wipe the exhaustion from his eyes. “Y/N, I think we didn’t use protection.” You could see him panicking now, and for a second you thought of joining him too, but you crossed the room and grabbed his arms.

“Spencer, look at me, it’s fine. If we did end up… doing that, I’m on birth control, and we probably have time to grab something extra just to make sure, right?” he looked down at you then and after a moments hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so sorry about all of this, I’m so stupid for suggesting we go to that casino bar last night, I don’t know what I was thinking. You even said last night that this wasn’t what you wanted for yourself, right now, god I’m an idiot, you don’t deserve this.” He buried his face in your neck and held you tight, and you pulled yours up to his back, rubbing circles into his skin slowly.

“Spencer, listen to me. I can think of noone I would have rather had a shotgun Vegas marriage with, okay? This isn’t your fault, we were both drunk, and I’m sure a Reid who was thinking straight could give me some kind of statistic about inhibitions dropping with a certain amount of alcohol.”

“A study in the United Kingdom found that there was an increase of risky sexual behavior in young people who had participated in binge drinking, including unprotected sex with a new partner and the use of emergency contraceptives and I’m not sure why I’m still talking when that was probably rhetorical, right?” You smiled at his panic, finding him just as endearing as ever, even in this predicament.

“What I’m saying, Spencer, is that we’re going to be okay. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten married in Vegas on a whim. Hell, this isn’t even the first time it’s happened to someone on our team. In a sense, this was a very traditional wedding.”

He groaned into your neck again and you laughed up at him. Sure, you were panicked still, but just having him in your arms there sharing his honest feelings with you instead of bottling it up and leaving you to deal with it on your own in your head too was doing you a world of good, and you found the words you used to reassure him soothing you, too, in turn.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. One, find the nearest pharmacy. Two, find whatever Elvis-inspired love shack wrote that marriage license and figure out if it’s actually legally binding. Three, avoid all of our coworkers until 2pm. How does that sound?”

Reid pulled himself out of your neck then, and you were almost sad at the loss of that warmth near you.

“It sounds like I made the smartest choice of a wife I was ever going to make,” he smiled down at you.

“Oh you got jokes now, Doc? I see.”

“Thought I should let you know all my deep dark secrets now we’re married.” You shared a laugh, and standing there amongst the debris of the night before, despite all the mistakes, you knew you were safe, and that the two of you would always be safe together.

🏷️ @sailortongue @bethanyhaas01 @reidscaffeine @high-functioning-cosplayer @average-sunflower @multifandom-on-the-side @anniewhalelover @prentissesredtanktop @abbyshmaby @academiareid @hugyourlungs @w-windy @babybluecakes @SwaggySagieWagie@reidandhotchsgirl @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @Zaapsite @daddy-dotcom @bluecandycake

[marilynthornhilllover]

I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me,

Emily. P x Jennifer. J x Fem!Reader

Warning: talk of drug consumption, reader is high, mood swings, use of guns (weed) , bad flirting, mommy kink, praise kink, teasing, cringe kiss etc .

A/n: I saw that new jennifer and emily episode where Emily was high and they were so cute! Had to make a fic😌

It was that quite long awaited time of the year where criminal agents are given two weeks off from work. You were beyond exhausted but nevertheless was very happy to finally be able to take off your FBI vest and feeling relieved that you won't have to be picking it up for another week or so.

You soon realized that you literally didn't have plans arranged for the upcoming two weeks ahead, or even tonight. Everyone was pairing up as they packed up their office stuff and headed out. Spencer and Derek laughed and gave eachother a high five as they made their way downstairs to sign out while Emily and jj were already giggling about some random joke as they continued to pack up.

You nervously decided to walk up to them standing in the corridor like a shadow making sure not to seem creepy— but maybe you were doing the opposite. Ever since you joined the team, yes you did make friends but no one ever went the extra mile to offer to hang out with you. Only Emily would now and then eat lunch with you at her desk.

Jennifer wasn't bad either, she did offer to help you with a case file once, you went over to her house which you complimented her for the cozy interior, and yes the boys were also good to you but on a employee holiday like this no one was paying any attention whatsoever to you. They already plans of their own.

You on the other hand, had none, all you were gonna do was shower, eat, sleep and repeat for the next week or so. Nothing productive, not as if you had anything to do either. Prentiss and Mantegna had insisted that someone help you with case files so its not as if you have a major cade to crack over the holiday.

You were as free as a bird and your energetic self needed something to reinforce that energy into. If you could have went on a cruise for two weeks you definitely would have.

Emily scoffed at Jennifer's joke before turning around and spotting you cuddled up in the corner like a little mouse. She tilted her head to the side before approaching you with a warm smile.

" hey hon, you got any plans for the holiday?" She asked chewing a piece of gum that she had been for the entire day — somtimes you wonder if any flavour at all is still existence in it.

" uhh nope, but I'll sure my couch has plans for me though" you said sarcastically and of course she laughed, because Emily laughs at anything and everything which you did find cute. Emily always made sure that she kept everyone at a level where they felt at their absolute best when around her.

She was never mean to anyone really. Always funny, ambitious, smart and talented she was everything. Sometimes her aura was just too high, but she was always still approachable and not prideful.

Emily was like one of those drugs that you couldn't stop using because it feels too good, and when you do take it, it altars with your entire brain function and chemistry.

And speaking of chemistry, that was something you and Emily had alot of. Everytime her eyes made contact with yours, you felt as if your body was thrown into the deepest pits of hell. You'd get shivers everytime she passed you or called you a pet name. You'd go completely weak in your knees when she made the littlest amount of psychical contact with your skin — it was absolutely ridiculous just how easily she could get under your skin.

Or the time when you were making coffee in the kitchen and she needed to grab something from the top shelf and she moved you by putting her hands on your hips, with her chest pressed so closely against your back with face by your neck.

Emily made you question things. You knew you always had a thing for older women, always, since highschool and it never seemed to go away. And Emily was exactly your type, you just weren't sure if she felt the same way in return and you didn't wanna ruin the amazing friendship you both had by letting your stupid emotions and hormones get the best of yourself.

" well I'm sure you'll find something to entertain yourself, JJ and I are hooking up at her place tonight for snacks and a movie" she placed hands on her hips are she turned to look at jj who was texting away on her phone before turning back to you. You gaved her a akward smile, before a breathy nervous laugh escaped your mouth.

" hooking up huh" you saw as her eye brows quirked before a sly smile came into evidence on her face and quickly glanced at Jennifer who was now angrily texting before taking a step closer towards you, closing the the last gap space that was there. Her body heat and perfume over took your senses making your breath hitch.

You pressed your palm against her chest sneaking a quick glance at jj and the camera above. Emily was looking at you with a teasing smirk, she leaned down besides your ear and whispered.

" do wanna hook up with me as well?" She pulled back to see the reaction on your face and just as she imagined it was absolutely priceless. She chuckled before pulling away completely.

" oh my God emily would you leave poor y/n alone, let's go already" Jennifer said with a tint of exhaustion and annoyance her voice. Emily chuckled before gently caressing your cheek. The both women waved you goodbye before departing and going their way.

You sighed before picking up your bag and leaving, you locked your office door and went home. You did decided to walk with a few case files home and evidence objects to keep yourself busy during the holiday to stop yourself from going insane from the intense boredom you were prone to have.

— — — —

Emily and Jennifer had just sat down and were about to enjoy their late afternoon with wine and salt and vinegar chips when a continuation of loud knocking could be heard on jj's front door. Both women looked at eachother with utter confusion on their faces — the weren't expecting anyone. Jennifer decided to get up and go check the door, Emily following closely behind with her hand placed tightly on her gun.

The door bell soon started ringing along with the knocks which triggered Jennifer even more. Unlocking the door Jennifer threw it open, not caring what stood on the opposite side of it, after all emily was ready to protect her best friend at all cost, even if it meant shooting someone in their foor.

" if I had my way I swear I would—" as soon as she saw you she stopped talking, her eye brows quirked as she squinted her eyes to make a better appearance of your face in the dim moon light. Emily let out a soft sigh when she saw you but quickly went back into a state of worry at the same time.

Now you had both women wondering what you were doing at their house.

" y/n? I didn't know you were coming over, did Emily invite you?" Jennifer turned around hoping to get a confirmation nod from Emily but she shook her head and pursed her lips, letting her know she was just as confused as her.

" Well aren't you guys a bit rude, aren't you gonna invite me in?" You muttered but before they could react you let yourself in. You carefully walked down the long fancy corridor switching off some lights on your way because they made your eyes burn, making your way to the living room area, having knowing your way around jj's house since the last two times you were there.

You stumbled over the coffee table and landed right onto the sofa, face first with a soft groan. You dropped the ziplock bag of cheese puffs you had brought onto the floor.

She walked up to you and you and sat beside you on the couch, she picked you up by both your forearms and made you look at her.

Both women side eyed eachother, both in desperate need to know what on God's green earth was going on. Jennifer leaned against the wall to further scrutinize you. Emily on the other hand was just worried how you got here on your own with no car or phone.

" hey y/n sweetie are you..... drunk?" Her voice sounded like when water got into a phone speaker and you tried to play a song— you couldn't understand it. You rubbed your eyes and glanced at the table to which your face instantly lit up when you saw the salt and vinegar lays chips.

You grabbed them ferociously then took out some chopsticks you had stuffed in the back pocket of your jeans and started eating the chips. At this point both women were flabbergasted, mouths open, jaws dropped. Jennifer took a deep breath before she turned around and went to her fridge to grab you a drink to help you sober up because it was crystal clear that you were beyond drunk, drunk was an understatement.

" what time is it?" You suddenly asked putting the chips down and dusting off your hands.

" time for some hydration, here you go" Jennifer said as she passed you a bottle of cold cranberry juice. Once again your face lit up like a child on Christmas day.

" ohhhh, it's got what plants crave!" You exclaimed. The look on Jennifer's face when you said that was priceless as Emily silently continued to look at you with a completely blanket stare.

You placed the bottle of juice at the side of your head as if it was an ice pack and burped. You cleared your throat before speaking up again.

" have you guys seen that movie! Idiot city!.... wait city Idiot... wait... yeah" it's like your body was replaced with a child's and this called for huge concern. Emily sighed heavily and took the bottle from your hand.

" Idiocracy?" Jennifer whispered and you nodded.

" I knew I liked you! Ohhh, I and on my way here I saw a cat jumping off your house roof then it turned into a dog and flew away as a mosquito" you said before the loudest laugh took you over that you almost started crying.

Emily whispered " oh good lord" before she shook her head, Jennifer was still completely and totally lost for words. Jennifer had a feeling that being drunk would not cause someone to behave like this— well of course she knew, she's a profiler. She had a feeling you were high, but she didn't want you to act out and she would need proof for Emily because knowing her she wouldn't believe for a minute you would do drugs.

" umm y/n what's in the bag?" Jennifer asked and your eyebrows quirked, you placed your finger at you ear urging her to repeat even though she was so damn close to you.

" What's in the bag" she repeated as she dragged her words this time. You shrugged.

" I don't know what time the supermarket closes" emily stood up and walked towards to kitchen to grab her phone, you had the agent stressed. Jennifer just took it upon herself to grab the bag of " cheese puffs" before she walked towards emily.

" look I know you may not believe but I have a pretty good feeling that, that girl right there is literally the profound definition of what we call high" emily scoffed.

" Oh come on, she probably had too much wine I mean weren't we just about to drink wine as well?" She restated trying to convince Jennifer, but honestly to this rate she just couldn't, Jennifer was already convinced from her own opinion.

" emily elizabeth prentiss which wine do you know makes someone this drunk?" Jennifer asked, emphasizing on the last two words of her sentence. Emily shrugged before looking back at you, who was now sniffing the air every two seconds like a curious dog. Jennifer rolled her eyes before opening the bag of cheese puffs and taking a sniff.

She gaged before pulling away quickly.

" this smells like straight up weed!" She swiftly turned to let Emily have a sniff, to which Emily pulled away as well. Jennifer closed the bag and turned it around where there was writing in black. " DO NOT OPEN, CONTAINS CASE 101 EVIDENCE".

" you ate the case evidence! Oh my god!" Jennifer looked like she was going to erupt like a volcano and her high pitched tone of voice was making your head hurt and ears ring.

" I was hungry, and I didn't know that they were edibles" you whispered as you squinted your eyes since it was getting harder to see. Jennifer looked at you in disbelief as she turned to Emily for back up. Before Emily could utter a word Jennifer was already furious.

" Emily, don't even! She basically ate the entire bag!" She shouted. She saided pacing the room with her fingers gently massaging her temple to calm her.

" what are we gonna tell hotch, or even worst David" Jennifer covered her face with her both her hands before leaning over the kitchen counter.

" Well I mean, she probably just ate the backup stash, it should be fine, we should really be worrying about is her health" emily muttered scratching her head. Jennifer looked up at emily as her jaw dropped.

" your defending her?!" Emily raised her hands in defense but before she could reply Jennifer took the chance.

" I seriously cannot believe you right now!" Jennifer once again, started pacing the room, this time even more quicker.

" Oh come on jj, what are the odds that people make silly mistakes like these?" Jennifer stopped, and looked at emily with wide eyes.

" Well with the odds as high as her I'd say zero!" She said angrily before picking up her phone.

Emily sighed before looking over at you who was now eating the chips and gnawing your teeth wildly making crumbs fall all over the place. In a way Emily felt bad for you, mostly pity because she knew what you did was down right stupid but Jennifer was being a tadbit too harsh on you in your current position — knowing you couldn't properly comprehend the situation or what was going on.

" ok I'll take her home and we can speak to the team about this tomorrow when y/n is a better state of mind, ok?" Emily said in a reassuring voice. Jennifer sighed in frustration before biting her lip and nodding approvingly.

Emily carefully picked you up off the couch and wrapped her arm around your waist as she insisted to take you home safely. Her body warmth was comforting and her perfume was like a lullaby putting you to sleep this time. You melted in her embrace as she took you outside.

Your vision was blurred and the cold air on your skin — although you had a jacket on, was making you shiver. Seeing this emily hugged you tighter. She opened the door to her wagon and assisted you into the passenger seat and putting on your seat belt for you. You looked at her, she looked like one of those ancient paintings,the ones you can't withdraw your eyes from, the Renaissance ones.

You weren't sure if maybe it was the drugs or the hormones that came after taking the drugs but you felt the need to kiss emily, your eyes flicked down to her lips that were slightly parted as she concentrated on getting the seatbelt to adjust to your liking. Her smooth skin and wrinkled lines that ran across her forehead and eye line area, her little cute eye bags from all the hard work she does.

You couldn't resist the urge, she was a drug, she was your drug. You licked your lips and leaned in. Your lips connected with hers in a slow soft kiss. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. Emily didn't pull away, she was surprised yes, but she didn't pull away. Emily couldn't cover up the feeling she felt for you but she also didn't want to take advantage of your drunken state.

Taking it that she was enjoying it as much as you, you tried to force your tongue into her mouth but that's when she pulled away. Your brows furrowed and for a moment the drugs may have returned your common sense and you realized what you did — what you were trying to do. And soon the embarrassment and cringe settled in.

" sorry, oh God I'm so stupid!" You whispered as you fought back tears, you covered your face with both hands and started sobbing. Emily sprinted around to the drivers seat to comfort you. She gently peeled your hands away from your face, holding your palms in hers she caressed them with her knuckles softly. You sniffed and shook your head in denial before looking out the window.

" hey, sweetheart look at me please" her voice was as soft as an angel and so gentle as if you were something valuable that could be broken, that's something you loved about emily, she was so comforting in all circumstances, no matter what. She placed her hand under your jaw and turned you to look at her. She stared at you with her cute Bambi eyes so filled of love, and she so badly wanted to say " I love you" but she knew you wouldn't be able to comprehend them.

" look y/n, i wanna— kiss you back but I can't. That doesn't mean I don't want to, I just want you to be able to give me your full sober concent." She spoke as slowly and clearly as possible so you won't misinterpret anything.

" and your not stupid, we all make mistakes my love. Once I accidentally— well I got drunk the morning of my Law exams and failed them, and that did set me at a disadvantage for my career but I still made it into this job" she continued to rub your knuckles and wip every tear that fell from your eyes.

" and this joke takes y/n, but it also gives.... it gave—" she took a deep breath before exhaling heavily. " it gave me you." Hearing these words made your heart flutter souly. Your little smile came across your face which emily mirrored.

" now, my sweet girl, my I take you home?" She spoke in a old French accent waving her hand a fancy motion, You both laughed until you were out of air. after the laughter died down She chuckled and placed a hand on your thigh squeezing the tender flesh which made your breath hitch.

The drive home was long but certainly not quiet at all, you and Emily blasted high 2000s music all the way until she arrived at your home. You knew there was gonna be alot to discuss the next day but you should be fine once you have emily by your side.

[kujousgf]

THERE'S JUST ONE THING I WANT (your blood all over me)

pairings: final girl!reader + slashers!wandanat, pre-established bucky + reader

summary: movie night at your boyfriend bucky's on friday the 13th, what could go wrong?

warnings: depictions of violence and murder, cult dynamics (cult leader wanda), character death (not reader), cheating, manipulation, patriarchal ideals, misogyny, power dynamics, pet names, mommy kink, dom!natasha, sub!reader, dom!wanda, fingering, groping

wc: 5.7k~

A/N: sorry bucky...

Friday the 13th, a universal day of bad luck and bad omens. You were never one to be overly superstitious, you did have a black cat, Liho, after all, but something about this just felt like a bad idea. Bucky had proposed the idea of having a movie night of sorts to celebrate the unofficial holiday, wanting to invite some friends over and watch a few horror movies. He explicitly wanted to ‘watch Parker piss his pants over a little movie,’ which you rolled your eyes at. 

“I don't know if this is a good idea, Buck…” You sigh, looking up at the taller man through your lashes, your arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh, come on, it'll be fun. Who doesn't love a good horror movie?” He laughs, though he knows you don't, “besides, I'll keep you safe. Don't worry.” He pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You know I don't like those kinds of movies,” you huff, “and your friends are always… weird.” You mumble, burying your face in his chest. He sighs above you, starting to run his fingers through your hair, “I know, I know, but it'll just be one movie. And it's just the guys! They're harmless, come on, you know that!” His tone is lighthearted, but he tugs a little on your hair at the last part. “You can invite some of your friends,” he offers, “who've you been hanging out with lately? Wanda? Natasha? Carol?” and then he quickly changes his mind, he doesn't like her attitude towards either of you, “Ugh, no, don't invite Carol… How about that Kate girl? You can invite the redheads and Kate?” 

“...okay, but promise you won't pick one that's too scary?”

“Promise, scaredy cat.”

Friday comes quickly and you're currently preparing for Bucky’s friends to come over, making sure there's cold beer in the fridge and snacks for them to eat. Your boyfriend was setting up the television apparently, telling you that you were always better in the kitchen than he was and then disappearing into the living room. Some of your friends were coming too, which you were grateful for. You had debated inviting Carol even though Bucky said not to, but decided against it. Wanda and Kate would be here soon, but Natasha said she had something she needed to do with Yelena tonight and wouldn’t be able to make it. 

You play with the ring around your finger before you start to put bowls and dishes on the island’s countertop in front of you, humming softly to yourself as you make sure it looks presentable. You were never one to like an ugly spread. Bucky chooses this time to come into the kitchen and wrap his arms around your waist from behind, “see? Told you, you’re so much better in the kitchen than I am.”

“You’re just saying that because I cut up some plums for you.”

“You got me.” He chuckles, reaching forward to grab a slice of the fruit, “the boys should be here soon, you should get changed.” He pats your bare thigh, the shorts you’re wearing are decidedly too short for him, and then pulls away from you and starts to walk away. 

“You didn’t seem to mind my outfit earlier!” You call out after him teasingly, and he just turns around to give you a pointed look, opening his mouth to speak before promptly closing it when he hears a car pull into the driveway. “That must be Steve. Go get changed.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

It did turn out to be Steve, and you greet him after you’ve come back downstairs. This time dressed in a pair of jeans and a brown sweater. Bucky’s friends arrive in quick succession after that: Steve, Sam, Tony, Peter (Quill, not Parker. Parker couldn’t make it), and even Rhodey showed up which was apparently something of a miracle. Wanda’s friend Vision was away for work, otherwise you might have asked her to bring him too. You sip on a drink in the kitchen with Wanda while you wait for Kate, it was far too loud in the living room with all the boys. Especially because Tony had started drinking. You don’t envy Pepper, the man could be loud while sober, so this was almost unbearable. You remind yourself that they’re Bucky’s friends and it’s just one evening, he’ll make it up to you tomorrow. 

“You know, you could have just told him we were going out and you wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this,” Wanda hums, lifting her glass up to her lips and taking a sip of wine, “I know how much you hate these kinds of movies.”

“I know, but he seemed excited about it, and you know him… I don’t want to be down on something he’s actually excited about.” You lean against the counter, holding your glass in both hands against your chest. “He said he’d pick a movie that wasn’t too scary, but we can probably get away with just being in here for the whole night. It’s not like they’ll really notice.”

“You don’t think Bucky will notice if you’re not within two feet of him at all times? You must have forgotten who you’re talking about.” Wanda laughs humorlessly, a tight smile on her lips. None of your friends were particularly… fond of your boyfriend. It’s not that they hated him, he could be a nice guy, it’s just that sometimes the way he treated you was more like the way you’d treat a child or a trophy than a girlfriend.

Just then Bucky’s voice interrupts the two of you with a ‘babe!’ and you excuse yourself from the kitchen. You’re semi-grateful for it, not wanting to get into this Wanda right now, but you wanted to avoid the guys for longer than you were able to.

It turns out he had just wanted another beer, which you brought him and he accepted with a kiss to your cheek. You’re certain that Peter was going to ask for one too until he and Bucky had some sort of silent conversation, so you slipped out of the room to avoid whatever the outcome might have been. Things between the two of them could get tense. 

Wanda gives you a look when you re-enter the kitchen and you shrug, “he was having some sort of debate with Steve, he didn’t want to lose his train of thought.”

“Uh huh…” The strawberry blonde opens her mouth to say something else, but she’s cut off when she hears a sharp, feminine scream pierce her ears. A scream that she knows doesn’t belong to the horror movie everyone is supposed to be watching tonight. She gives you an indecipherable look, and you look back at her with wide eyes, frightened. “Was that… the movie? Buck didn’t say he was starting it yet…”

She doesn’t answer you, waiting to see if maybe she can hear the background noise of a movie coming from the living room, maybe they decided on a different movie. But when she doesn’t hear anything besides confused chatter she can’t quite decipher she shakes her head, “I don’t think so.”

You’re soon joined by Bucky and the rest of the guys in the kitchen when he rushes in to make sure the scream he heard wasn’t, in fact, his girlfriend. “What the hell was that? Are you okay?” He holds you at arm’s length to inspect you, making sure you weren’t hurt. You could be a little clumsy, and he knows you’ve been drinking some wine, so he thought maybe you had decided to cut up some fruit and dropped the knife, accidentally cutting yourself. But after a quick once over, he realizes that you’re fine. 

“I-I don’t know. Wanda and I were just talking in here and then we heard a scream. I thought maybe you started the movie without us. Do you think someone’s hurt somewhere? Oh God, this is exactly how those horror movies you like so much start out. I told you doing something like this today was a bad idea, Buck–”

The back door opens and you barely hear it, still rambling until Bucky puts his hand over your mouth. You furrow your eyebrows, and you’re about to move his hand to tell him off, who cares that his friends are here, until you hear a set of footsteps and realize that everyone is standing still and tense. Bucky’s house had a bit of an odd layout. Whereas other houses kitchen’s were in the back of the house, his was near the front. 

Your boyfriend was always hyper vigilant, even when there was no reason to be, but when he brings his finger up to his lips to signal you to be quiet, you think that maybe there is a reason this time. Even Tony seems to have shut up, looking slightly concerned. Maybe all your talk about bad omens was getting to everyone. 

There’s a tension in the air and everything is silent for a moment until the footsteps continue, getting closer and closer…

Your breath gets caught in your throat when a masked figure steps through the doorway. They have a long, sharp, knife-like blade in one hand, the front of their shirt and mask splattered with blood. In the other hand, you see a coat you recognize, one you know belongs to Kate, splattered and stained with blood. Wordlessly, they hold it up and tilt their head, their green eyes sparkling at the recognition and horror on your face. A scream rips through your throat before you can stop it.

Bucky turns and he’s quick to push you behind him as soon as you scream while everyone else is frozen in place, eyes wide with shock. “Very funny guys, love that you hired an actor to scare the shit out of my girlfriend, very clever. When I said I wanted to scare her, I meant with the movie. So she would be extra clingy tonight, so we could– not the point. This isn’t cool.” His tone hardens with the last three words, feeling the way you’re shaking slightly behind him from fear. 

“Buck, we didn’t… this isn’t us.” Sam speaks up and the masked stranger decides that this is enough talking for now before they surge towards Peter, who’s drunk enough to move just a bit too slowly. Their knife plunges into his stomach and he lets out a loud yell, drink dropping from his hand and glass shattering against the floor, doubling over when the knife is taken out and then plunged into his flesh again and again and again. 

The action is enough to snap everyone out of their frozen states and send everyone running in a panic. You vaguely hear a ‘holy fuck!’ before Bucky grabs your hand and drags you out of the room, planning to circle around the killer and then exit the house. He lives at the end of a relatively secluded street, but he has his car and if he can get to it, he knows he could get the both of you away from danger quite quickly. He’d be sorry about his friends, but he can always make new ones. 

“B-Buck, wait! We can’t just leave Wanda, what if she’s next? Please, we can't just leave. That was Kate’s coat, they got Kate. We can’t leave everyone.”

“We might get killed and you're worried about that redheaded b– fine, we can make sure Wanda’s okay.” He concedes when he sees your face, pulling you into the bathroom with him and shutting the door. He takes a breath and then locks it. If all else fails, the two of you can stay in here until morning, but right now he apparently needs a new plan.

He pats his pockets to try and find his phone, if nothing at all he needs to call the police. He groans when he realizes he left it on the couch. “Fuck.”

At some point you and Bucky get separated, it's hard to stay together in chaos like this. Maybe going back for Wanda was a bad idea, but you just couldn't leave her to fend for herself, especially after what you can only assume happened to Kate. And seeing what happened to Peter, you couldn’t let that happen to her. Stupid, maybe, but she was one of your closest friends. 

You don't know how long it's been until you find yourself in a group again. Except now you're missing Peter, Tony, Steve and Rhodey. By the look on Bucky’s face, you know they all must have suffered the same fate as Peter.

“What do we do, man? We could try to leave, but that only got Steve killed. Did anyone call the cops? I can't find my phone.” Sam paces the room.

Steve’s body lays limp and slightly cold on the stone path leading from Bucky’s porch to the driveway. He didn’t get very far.

“I did.” Wanda speaks up from the doorway, keeping watch in the one on the left and scanning the whole room, paying particular attention to the doorway across from her. “I hope they'll be here soon. They might have already been here if James didn't live so far from town.”

“Oh, are you blaming this on me? Are you saying this is my fault?” Bucky shoots a glare towards Wanda. The tension between the two of them was always thick, but right now you think even a knife wouldn’t be able to cut through it. 

“If the shoe fits.”

“Listen here, you–”

“Watch your tone.” Wanda's accent slips out and your eyes flit over towards her.

“Please don't fight, it won't make things better.” Your voice is quiet, scared, as you speak. You stand close to Bucky, arms wrapped around your torso. You're shaking slightly, the image of both Peter and Steve making you nauseous. You hadn’t expected to see him when you walked out the front door, and the image was enough to have you running back into the house. 

Bucky grunts in response and Wanda doesn't say anything, crossing her arms tightly over her chest and looking towards the other entrance of the room you were all in again. 

Perhaps she should have been paying more attention to what's behind her, though, because the masked stranger is suddenly right there. Your eyes widen and you don't have time to warn her before she shrieks as they force her hands behind her back and press a knife against her throat. It's a bit of a struggle, but the masked assailant is clearly strong as they manhandle Wanda into the room. 

“Wanda!”

“Fuck!”

“Man, fuck this!”

You, Bucky, and Sam all stand alarmed near the center of the room, looking with widened eyes at the scene in front of you. A beat of silence passes, all that can be heard is labored breathing. And then the knife falls from her throat and Wanda starts to laugh, bent over from the force of it. “Oh, you should have seen your faces!” She laughs like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to her before she stops abruptly and stands up, a gun suddenly in her hand, pointed straight towards you. “Come here.” Her accent is back now, the fake American one dropped. 

“W-Wanda, I don’t… what’s going on?” You sniffle, tears falling freely down your cheeks.

“W-Wanda,” she mocks, faux pout on her lips, “Come here.”

“Don’t listen to her. Stay right behind me.” Bucky steps in front of you, shielding you with his body. 

“What a gentleman.” Wanda sneers, gun steadily pointed at Bucky’s chest now. 

“Wanda, sweetheart, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Natasha speaks up, taking the now bloody hockey mask off and revealing herself. It had been so hard for her to keep her comments to herself and remain a mystery this whole time. Usually it wouldn’t be, but today was just so exciting. And it was personal.

Oh, she had been the one to give Wanda the handgun.

“Now what the fuck?” Sam makes the mistake of making himself known again and Wanda rolls her eyes, turning and aiming the gun at him instead. “Oh, shut up.” She pulls the trigger and a bullet goes straight through the man’s skull, blood splattering onto the floor and the wall behind him. He drops to the floor with a thud.

“Jesus Christ! You’re both fucking insane!” Bucky takes a glance towards Sam’s body on the floor, feeling bile rise up in his throat. 

“Buck, I-I’m scared.” You whimper, and he pulls your body against his, hoping to bring you some comfort by running his fingers through your hair. This is not something he ever thought before, but maybe he should have listened to you when you said this was a bad idea. 

Wanda takes a deep breath, her head jerking involuntarily at the sight, like she’d just seen something horrible. “I won’t ask again. Come. Here.” The gun is pointed at you again and her hand shakes slightly. Her eyes flash and you look up at Bucky, afraid she might actually shoot you. “Buck, I-I maybe I should go over. T-To calm her down… I don’t want her to hurt you.”

You sniffle again and he takes five seconds before giving a small nod. “It’ll be okay, baby. They won’t get away with this, I promise, I won’t let them.” He says in a way that he hopes is comforting to you. You hesitate before pulling away from him and slowly walking over to Wanda. 

“Hi, Wands,” you smile up at her sweetly, “did I do good?”

“You would have done better if you didn’t let him put his hands on you like that,” she spits. You pout up at her and she softens slightly, leaning down to kiss you. She knows you were only playing a role, but that didn’t make it better, “you did great, baby.”

“What the fuck is going on!”

You spin around, eyes wild, no longer hiding anything now that the charade has been dropped, angry that your moments with Wanda are still being interrupted. “Will you shut the fuck up for five fucking seconds?! We are trying to have a conversation here.”

Bucky, poor guy, looks the most shocked you’ve ever seen him. He never would have seen this coming, he never could have. This wasn’t like you, you were sweet and quiet and would never speak to him like that. You couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this, not voluntarily. The way you were acting wasn’t making any sense. 

“Baby… Come on, this isn’t like you. Whatever they said to you, whatever they did to you, you can tell me. I can help, I’ll get you out of this, you don’t have to worry.” He chooses almost the exact wrong thing to say, and you grab the gun from Wanda, pointing it towards him. Wanda and Natasha look toward each other, this wasn’t part of the plan. Not exactly, anyway.

"Oh, you can help me?! You'll help me!" You think of these past couple of months, years really, that you’ve spent with Bucky, stuck with Bucky. You did it to yourself upon the request of Natasha, but that doesn’t make it any better. You're practically hysterical at this point, waving the gun in your hand around with your finger on the trigger, "because you're a big strong military man, you can help me! Oh, and I bet you’ll save me too!" You're laughing now, shaking as adrenaline pumps through your veins. "That's what I am to you, isn't it? Proof of your ability as a man to save a woman? Your little trophy to prove that you're a good guy." You point the gun steadily at Bucky now, looking him directly in the eyes, "unfortunately for you, I've never been yours to save."

The thing about your and Bucky’s relationship is that it was never built on anything good. It would have been better, for him mostly, but the both of you, if you had just stayed friends like you wanted to, but he just kept pushing. He loves you, don’t you love him too? He knows you do, he can tell. He’s loved you since middle school and he’s never found the right time to tell you, but now that you’re both starting university, he couldn’t take the chance that you’d find someone else. (Unfortunately for him, you already had. The extra 10 years of friendship Bucky had, had nothing on the connection you had with Wanda and Natasha). 

Bucky watched you grow up, watched you turn to him when your parents fought, watched you take your father’s mistreatment of you and your mother, and watched your little fear of abandonment grow when your father up and left one night. Watched the way you hoped he wouldn’t leave too, took advantage of it, really. And you watched him, watched the cracks in his nice guy persona get bigger, watched as they became canyons when you wedged yourself into them, watched as he hoped, God he hoped that you were your mother’s daughter. 

And Wanda and Natasha watched you both, content to keep your relationship a secret as you explored the ways in which you could exploit Bucky, expose his true colors. They didn’t do very much pushing on your part, they wanted you to be free to make your own decisions. They may be in charge, but this was your idea, they just gave it the green light. Well, Wanda may have planted a few seeds, but that’s what she does. You were free to ignore them if you wanted, but she knew you didn’t. She knew you’d make her plans blossom. 

The switch from hysterics to calm and collected has your boyfriend's head spinning. He doesn't know what part of this is real and what isn't, still half hoping this is some sick prank. Because this isn't like you, it's just not. The first time Bucky had ever shown you one of his guns, you were like a deer in headlights. You'd refused to even touch it, scared of such a weapon, a monster of human creation, you'd called it. That's who his girlfriend was, not this person standing in front of him. This mad woman, this crazy bitch. So this had to be fake, it had to be a prank. 

It's not, of course, because what Bucky doesn't understand is that nothing with him had ever been anything but fake. What Bucky doesn't understand is that even though he's your boyfriend, you've never been his girlfriend, you've been Natasha and Wanda's. You've always been Natasha and Wanda's.

Natasha comes up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek, "go on, pretty girl, you can do it," she whispers encouragingly. This may not be a part of the original plan, but the sooner they get this done, the sooner she can take you back to her and Wanda’s apartment. And the sooner Wanda can stop obsessing over this. "Remember how he treated you. Remember how we treat you."

“Be a good girl, we’re so close.” Wanda’s voice hits your ears and it’s like you can’t help but listen to anything she says. You take the shot without a second thought, the bullet going straight through Bucky’s chest as your own chest heaves, your breathing slightly labored. You’re still holding the gun towards him as his eyes widen and he drops to the ground, touching the wound like he can’t believe what just happened. He chokes slightly, coughing, as blood starts to spill past his lips and you shut your eyes. If only he hadn’t turned into such a rotten guy, he would have survived. 

You feel Wanda’s soft hand slide up the length of your arm as she slots herself behind you now, Natasha going to check around the house to make sure no one has miraculously survived being slain. A smile graces the Sokovian’s lips and she envelopes your hand in her own, gently transferring the gun into her own grip instead, letting your arm drop to your side before lowering the weapon and tucking it into her back pocket, “you did such a good job, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Her voice is so sweet and loving that your bottom lip trembles involuntarily.

You love Natasha, but Wanda has always had an affect on you, and you know that if the Russian had said the same thing instead, you wouldn’t react this same way. The overwhelming feelings that loomed over tonight come back in full force as you let out the first sob. “Oh, sweet girl,” Wanda coos, turning you in her arms and bringing you against her, holding you tight, “such a big night for you, huh? But you know that what you’ve done is for the greater good, right? You know that, don’t you?” 

You nod and she kisses the top of your head. “B-But Tasha came early, and I didn’t know that Katie– I thought– Tasha was too early, and I couldn’t tell if–” You can’t get your thoughts together anymore, your mind racing with everything that’s been going through your head since the beginning of the night. The fear for Kate, the confusion when Natasha showed up before 10:02pm, the very specific time she was supposed to, the way Wanda had looked just as confused as you had.

“Oh no, did she scare you?” Wanda laughs lightly, endeared and a little amused, “I’ll have to give Tasha a little talking to. She was a little early, huh?” She smooths her hand along your hair, petting you, “don’t worry about Katie, darling, she’s just fine. You know how Yelena would react if she wasn’t.” 

“I-I know, but–”

“Shhh, I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, you didn’t know. Now, why don’t you give me a kiss, hm? Don’t I deserve a thank you?”

A ‘thank you’ for what, you didn’t know, but Wanda clearly thought she was deserving of one and who were you to question her? You lean up to give her a kiss, your arms wrapping around her shoulders as she grips your waist. You sigh against her lips, feeling yourself relax a little just from the comfort any amount of affection from Wanda gives you. 

“I leave you two alone for five minutes and you’re pretending like I don’t exist.” Natasha stands from where she was leaning against the doorframe as she looks at you and Wanda, “do you have any idea how long I was standing there?” It had only been long enough to catch Wanda’s ‘don’t I deserve a thank you?’ and watch the two of you kiss, but still. 

You pull away from Wanda and huff, your tears now forgotten, “I’m mad at you!” You glare at Natasha and she raises an eyebrow, walking towards you now, “mad at me, зайка?” She furrows her eyebrows slightly, as if she’s confused, and there’s an annoyingly attractive little smirk on her lips as she gets closer. 

She grabs your hips and pulls you away from Wanda and the Sokovian would usually protest against the Russian’s audacity to steal her girl away, but she’s content to watch the two of you bicker for a few minutes. Natasha pulls you against her, “now what did I do to deserve that?” She squeezes your hips softly, looking down at you. “You were early!” You push against her chest before resting your hands there, playing with the fabric of her sweatshirt, “we had a plan!”

“Well, we didn’t exactly stick to the plan anyway, did we, baby? Huh? I don’t think the past 15 minutes were part of the plan. How about you, Wands?” Natasha turns her head slightly and makes eye contact with her girlfriend, to which the strawberry blonde just rolls her eyes, “this is not my problem. She’s not mad at me.”

“We might have if you showed up on time! You scared me, you asshole!”

Natasha is perfectly happy to humor when you’re ‘mad’ at her and even when you play fight against her or hit her, but she is not happy to hear you speak to her like that. Her movement is swift as she reaches up to grab your jaw, her grip harsh as her fingertips dig into your cheeks, “watch your tone and your language, yeah?”

You whine quietly, nodding. Natasha hums, releasing your jaw in favor of patting your cheek, “good girl. Now, why don’t you tell me properly why you’re ‘mad’ at me?” Her next actions contradict her words as she slips her hands underneath your shirt, sliding her palms up your stomach and then back down again.

“You were…” you trail off, distracted by Natasha's hands on you. She slides her hands back up and gropes your covered breasts, “I was?” There’s a smug look on her face as she looks down at you, pleased with how easily she can distract you. “You were early and… and you scared me, I didn’t know it was you.”

“My sincerest apologies, princess,” Natasha slides her hands back down and grabs your waist, squeezing roughly, and then she grins, “I didn’t realize you were so easily scared.” You’re about to curse her out, but she leans down to capture your lips in a kiss before you get the chance. The kiss is sloppy and rough as your hands grip her sweatshirt, tugging her as close as possible. 

Wanda, never one to like being left out, takes her place behind you, sandwiching you between her and Natasha. Her hands slip under your shirt and replace where Natasha’s used to be, cupping your breasts and groping them softly, “let us make it up to you, ангел.”

The sound of Wanda’s soft voice in your ear relaxes you in their arms and you make a noise of agreeance against Natasha’s lips. “My poor little angel,” Wanda murmurs, “my divine little lamb. You didn’t deserve to be scared like that, did you?” Wanda’s questions are almost always rhetorical and you’re glad for that right now. 

One of Natasha’s hands moves from your waist to unbutton your jeans and then slides into your panties. You grip her sweater tighter to try and urge her to move her hand further down, but she leaves it splayed just above your cunt. She pulls away from your lips, the both of you panting as you catch your breath, a string of spit connecting your lips and then dripping down.

“Say please, зайка. Just because I’ve upset you doesn’t mean you lose your manners, does it?”

“Please, Tasha. Please touch me.”

“Tell me thank you for what I did today.” She’s trying to stay in control of herself, but you can tell from her labored breathing and the flush of her neck that you’ve affected her. 

“I’m so happy you freed me, Tasha. Thank you. I’m so grateful I can be yours forever now. Thank you, thank you.” 

Natasha surges forward and crashes her lips against yours, a moan escaping your lips at the contact. Wanda hums in approval and it lights a fire in both yours and Natasha’s stomachs. You both know, this time, Wanda is only here to watch over the two of you, and to know what you’re doing has her approval means more to the both of you than anything you’ve ever done.

Natasha swallows your gasp when you feel her fingers beginning to rub at your clit, slow circles that work you up at just the right pace. Wanda places small kisses on your neck as Natasha works, groping and squeezing at your breasts as she does. She knows she’ll have you to herself later while Natasha works on cleaning up today’s mess, so she’s content in watching her prized possession feel good.

When Natasha moves her hand further down and sinks two fingers into your cunt, you pull away from her lips and let out a little whimper. Usually, she’d work you up, but she knew the three of you shouldn’t linger in the house longer than necessary. “Shhh, that’s it baby, you can take it.” She lets you bury your face against her chest as she pumps her fingers in and out, grinding the heel of her palm against your clit. 

“There you go, that’s a good girl.” Natasha coos. She’s being uncharacteristically gentle and you think it’s because Wanda is watching or maybe she really does feel bad for scaring you like she did. She holds you tight against her as she leans over you to kiss Wanda. You feel your knees get weak when you realize what’s happening and you clench around Natasha’s fingers. 

They both pay you no mind except for the fact that Natasha’s skilled fingers are still working against your cunt. She curls them just right and you bite down on her collarbone. She gasps and pulls away from Wanda’s lips, her other hand gripping your waist tighter, her blunt nails digging into your skin and leaving little crescent marks. 

“Forgot our little зайка was a biter.” She grunts.

It’s not long before Natasha’s fingers work you up and push you over the edge, cumming with both her and Wanda’s permission. When Natasha pulls her fingers out you let out a little whine, sensitive from cumming. “Open up, pretty girl.” She brings her fingers up to your lips and you let her push them inside, cleaning your cum from her fingers, your cheeks hot at the action.

Natasha pulls away from you and pushes you to your knees, your shaky legs doing very little to hold you up anyway. Wanda’s fingertips drag across your cheek as she moves in front of you, standing next to Natasha. “What do you say, ма��енький ангел?” Wanda speaks as she uses her middle and ring finger to tilt your chin up. 

You peer up at them, adoration swimming in your eyes, “Thank you Mommy. Thank you Tasha.”

[reallychaoticwoo]

⛓️Here it is!! Part 2 to Ateez meeting y/n, a single mom⛓️

🎬Overview: Ateez members meeting you and your 4 year old daughter for the first time and what became of it.

‼️This is ended up being a two parter because me and my sister got carried away 😅😅

❤️Pairing: individual ot8 x reader

⚠️Warnings: Probably some cussing, some angst, anxiety, mentions of physical assult, mentions of abandonment from father. Please let me know if I missed anything!

✨️This is purely for entertainment purposes and does not represent the idols in any way

🖤As always, I hope you enjoy!

Part one

San:

San was sitting at a table in a local bakery when he saw you and your small daughter walk in. Your daughter, immediately running up to the counter with awestruck eyes, was beyond ready to get her treat for behaving well today. Walking closely behind, you made it to the counter, placing your order and quickly finding a spot to sit. As you were unwrapping your daughters cupcake (which was light purple with heart-shaped sprinkles), you noticed your ex, her father, walk through the door. You immediately stiffen up, trying your best to remain calm so you don't startle your daughter. San, who was sitting on the other side of the bakery, notices your change in demeanor, and the man that just entered, mentally noting it for later. Your ex turns spotting you and your daughter. Walking your way, he stops on the other side of the table, glaring daggers at you. "Oh, so you are alive? Is there any reason you keep ignoring my calls, then y/n?" He asks harshly. You gulped, fear already washing over you as you pulled your daughter tightly into your side. "You know exactly why I'm not answering. I will not be having this talk with you in front of her." You said through gritted teeth, trying to keep a steady voice. Walking around the table to your side, he grabbed your wrist hard enough to leave bruising, trying to pull you out of your seat. "Fine, then let's go talk outside, and you can explain to me why you're keeping my daughter away from me you selfish bitch." Your daughter saw him pulling you. He looked evil in her eyes, and she knew she needed to find help and fast. Scanning the bakery, she spotted a large man drinking his coffee, and she ran to him. "Can you please help?" She begged, pulling at his shirt frantically, "my mommy needs help, my dad.. he's hurting her! Please help her!" San wasted no time following the little girl out of the bakery where he found you. Your ex had you pinned against the wall, shaking you by your shoulders, words of venom spewing at you. Just as he raised his hand, San stopped it mid swing, pulling the man back and locking his arm behind him firmly. "I don't think you want to be doing that. You should no better than to hit a woman, and in front of a child?? Fucking pathetic." San was seething at the man. San shoved your ex against the wall, his grip firm against the collar of the man's shirt, his eyes dark with anger. "Touch her again, and I'll make sure it's the last thing you ever do. Actually, while we're here, give me your phone." San said, taking the man's phone directly from his pocket. He threw the phone on the ground, shattering it. "Don't let me catch you so much as trying to contact either of them, or I will end you. Do you understand?" San asked, pushing the man further into the wall. Your ex just nodded, fear filling his eyes. San threw him to the side, and he ran off, leaving his shattered phone behind. You looked at San, shock and awe plastered across your face. "Mommy, that man saved us! He's a superhero!" Your daughter said, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Yes, I suppose he is." You smiled down at your daughter. "Thank you for that." You directed at San. "Is there any way I can repay you? Please, let me at least take you out to dinner." You offered him. "How about I take you to dinner instead? Make sure yall are at least safe for the night." He replied, smiling warmly at you and your daughter.

Mingi:

Walking out of an anime shop, Mingi feels something violently tugging at the bottom of his shirt. Looking down, he sees a little girl sobbing up at him. "I lost my mommy. Can you please help me find her?" She asks him between sobs. Panic sets in immediately. He's not prepared for this kind of situation, and he's never had to help a child find their lost parent. "Uh, yeah. Where's the last place you saw your mommy?" He said, looking down at the girl wearily. "I - I don't member. I was on the exlavater, and she wasn't there." The small child said sobbing harder, looking up to the tall man. She wiped her tears on her arm before reaching both hands up and asking to be picked up. Mingi picked the child up, holding her about 6 inches away from his chest. He did not know what he was doing, and it showed. The girl slowly reached her hands out, pulling herself closer so she could be held comfortably. Mingi scanned the mall, trying to find someone who looked like they may be missing their child. Not finding anyone, he sighed to himself. "Okay, okay, um, why don't we go to the toy store? Maybe your mommy could be looking for you there." He said, extremely uncertain of his own idea. "Shit, okay, um, I'm sorry, kiddo, I'm not really sure how to help you.." He said, looking around the toy store, fighting back tears of his own. Mingi was absolutely in over his head. He wasn't around kids often, and he didn't know how to stop them from crying. "Ooo, you said a bad word. You gotta put 5 dollars in in the swear jar!" The little girl giggled at him, her tears starting to still. "Oh fuck I'm so sorry!" He said quickly. "Shit I did it again. Crap I'm just gonna stop talking!" He said, smacking himself in the face. The little girl was giggling loudly now, "That's three 5 dollars now, Mr!!." Her giggles calmed his nerves some, his shoulders relaxing a little. "It's Mingi to you, little missy. And okay, fine, instead of the swear jar, why don't we find you a toy while we wait for your mom to find you." He offered. "Otays Minki!!" She replied, sounding a lot happier than when she originally found him. As they were leaving the store, your daughter in his arms, and about 5 stuffies in hers, you spotted them. "Baby!! There you are!! Fuck, Mommy was so worried!!" You said, a huge sigh of relief escaping your lips. "Ooooo, mommy, that's 5 dollars!" Your daughter said, giggling, looking at Mingi knowingly. "You heard the little lady, 5 dollars mom." Mingi said, joining in on the laughter. "Thank you for keeping her safe and for all the toys?" You shot him a questioning look. "Uh yeah, that may have been my swear jar money, sorry about that." He said, feeling only a little guilty. You laughed slightly, "Okay, well, we need to finish shopping, honey. Let's go." You said to your daughter. Her grip on Mingi tightening. "Nooo I wanna stay with MinKi!!" She protested. Mingi looked at you, shrugging his shoulders big grin on his face. "Well I've got time. Where to?" He asked. Your daughter shot you a cheeky smile.

Wooyoung:

It wasn't very often that the fair was in town, and your daughter just HAD to go this year. She had been begging you to take her ever since you drove past it one day on the way home. Today was the day you caved. Walking hand and hand into the fair grounds, her eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement. After taking her on some of the more kid friendly rides, you were walking past the game booths on the way to go grab her a snack. She stopped you, tugging on your hand, "Momma! Momma! I want that stuffie! It's HUUGGEEE! Momma, pleaseeee." She was begging, her lip pouting, and her eyes full of hope. "Baby girl, mommy would have to spend the rest of her money to be able to win that for you, and we still need to go get a snack." You said, walking away from the game holding her hand. She looked back at the stuffie longingly as she followed you to a nearby concession stand. Wooyoung had overheard the whole exchange as he was at the booth already, and he decided he was going to win the stuffie for the precious little girl, and maybe even a matching one for her pretty mom. As you and your daughter sat down at a small table beginning to eat, Wooyoung approached you, stuffies in hand. "Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear this cutie wanted a stuffie." He said with a big smile and kind eyes. "My brother is only a little older than you, and I always get him a stuffie when he comes with me. He wasn't able to come today, so I thought, since you wanted the big one so badly, that I'd get it for you." He handed your daughter the gigantic stuffie. "ITS SO FLUFFFYYYYYYYY!!" She screamed, hugging onto the large unicorn like her little life depended on it. "I also got one for your pretty mommy." He said before handing you a large stuffed black cat you had been eyeballing earlier. You blushed at the compliment and thanked him. "Would you like to sit with us for a bit? I'm sure this little one would just love to hear all about how you won the biggest stuffed toy at that booth." You said with a smirk. "Oh, I'm sure she would." He replied with a smirk of his own, sitting down across from you.

Jongho:

You tried your best to be prepared as possible. Packing snacks, activities, and even books in your carry-on. But a couple hours into your flight back home, your daughter was absolutely not having it. You were stressed, to say the least. Tired as you hadn't slept the night before making sure everything was packed and ready after your daughter finally went to sleep. She'd been having a hard time sleeping lately, and you knew it was because her dad decided to just up and leave 6 months ago. Noticing your struggles, a man in the row behind you tapped your shoulder. "I hope I'm not bothering you, but I can tell you're exhausted, and I was wondering if I could be of any help? I'd be glad to hold her for a little while so you can get some rest." He offered, his smile was gentle and sincere. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that. We'll be okay. Thank you.. uh, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You replied, waiting for him to answer. "Jongho," He said with a smile. "And it's really no problem at all. I'm pretty good with kids. They think I'm a teddy bear." He added with a small chuckle. "Well, if you're sure you don't mind. I'd really appreciate it." You said with a smile and a sigh, handing him your daughter who happily went to him. Not even 15 minutes later, your eyes were closed, and your breathing evened out, sleep had fully embraced you. Jongho sat with your daughter, keeping her entertained until she started rubbing her eyes. "Are you tired?" He asked her. "Yes.. but I don't like sleeping, " she replied with a sad look on her face. "Why don't you like sleeping?" He asked, looking at her questioningly. "Cause.. sometimes when I sleep I dream that daddy is leaving again.. he used to sing me to sleep but he doesn't anymore." She told him. The look on her face almost brought tears to his eyes. "Would you like me to sing you to sleep? It's important to sleep when your body is tired." He looked at her while she considered his offer. A second later, she was climbing into his lap and snuggling into his chest. He sang softly to her, rubbing the top of her back lightly. She was out in a matter of minutes, snoring into his chest, drool pooling on his shirt. He just smiled to himself, glad he could help you both get some rest. About 30 minutes away from landing, you woke up turning around to check on your daughter. Jongho put a finger to his mouth, smiling at you, silently telling you not to wake her. You mouthed a thank you, and he nodded. Once you had landed and your daughter was awake, he handed her back to you. "Thank you again. You don't know how grateful I am. I'm amazed you got her to sleep she's had a lot of late nights recently." You said while reaching for your carry-on. He helped you get it down, saying, "It was really no problem. She told me her dad used to sing her to sleep, and it's been a bit hard for her." You frowned, looking down at her then back to him. "Yeah, I figured that was what's been bothering her, but she wouldn't tell me anything besides having bad dreams. I thought it was just the nightmare phase. I should've known. Well, anyways, thank you again." Turning to walk off the plane, he tapped your shoulder once again, "If it would be okay with you, I can give you my number. That way, if she has trouble sleeping again, I can sing her to sleep like I did today. She deserves a good night's rest." He smiled down at the girl. She beamed at his offer, "Please, mommy! He has a pretty voice, and I didn't have any nightmares when I fell asleep this time!" You giggled at her enthusiasm. "That'd be wonderful, thank you so much, you are too kind." You said, handing him your phone with a grateful smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🖤 A - tiny tag list (see what I did there 😉)

@evis-gossip @yeosangcutie0615

[houseofripley]

Her Party Girl

Rhea Ripley X Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Rhea has her way with you after you misbehaved at the club.

WARNINGS: 18+, SMUT, Aggressive Language, Slapping, Spanking, Orgasm Denial. Edging, Brief mention of implied Choking, Strap-On, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Mommy Kink, and a teensy bit of fluff as a treat.

WORD COUNT: 3,230 A/N: Just a little something I threw together last night. This is literally my first fic please don't kill me if it's dogshit!!!

Everyone knew you had a reputation. Headlines seemingly popped up nearly every week about what sort of trouble you got caught up in the night before. You didn’t care about whatever the news said, they didn’t matter to you. You had convinced yourself Rhea didn’t care either, she hadn’t brought it up so you figured you were in the clear. 

Rhea began getting fed up with your behavior about a month prior. She was sick of the near-daily drunk calls in the middle of the night while she was away. It killed her not knowing exactly where you were and who you were with. One thing about Rhea is that she is a possessive mother fucker.

Rhea came to the conclusion she needed to keep her eye on you as much as possible to calm her worries. She was currently on a WWE Live tour and had you flown into the city she was in.

For weeks Rhea kept you under a lock and key but recently she had been more lenient. She didn’t care for the bars and party scene but the constant begging got to her, she had to give in at some point.

The two of you made a deal, you were allowed to party only if Rhea was with you and only if she could have her way with you right after. 

Tonight Rhea had just lost a match with Becky, and she was fuming. As soon as she left the ring she bolted backstage shoving past fellow wrestlers and crew to get to her tiny locker room. You were there waiting for her but as soon as you saw Rhea slam the door open you knew something was wrong.

“Jesus Christ, Rhea baby, what's wrong?” You questioned as you stood up from the couch, examining the woman's demeanor.

“She fucking pinned me!” Rhea shouted at you. You knew not to touch her when she was pissed but you couldn’t help yourself. You draped your arms over Rhea’s neck as you told her “Hey hey it's okay…it’s not a serious deal, it’s just one little show. I need you to calm down baby.” 

“Rhea Ripley doesn’t fucking lose, especially not to goddamn Becky Lynch!” Rhea yelled at you while grabbing both of your arms with a painful grip. You knew she couldn’t help it… she was naturally aggressive. Ignoring the pain she was causing you, you sat her down on the couch and removed your arms from her neck. Rhea slowly let go of the hold she had on your arm.

You let Rhea compose herself before handing her the pile of her streetwear. Rhea slipped into her jeans and threw on an unbuttoned tee over her sports bra before slouching back into the couch. 

“How about we go out and take all that stress off your shoulders,” You offered whilst packing up Rhea’s bags.

Of course, you wanted Rhea to let loose by getting a few drinks in her but you selfishly needed an excuse to go get plastered. 

“Absolutely not. I’m not dealing with that nonsense tonight.” She scorned as you found your way onto her lap. “I got all dolled up for you, are you really gonna make me sit in a hotel room all night?.” You pouted in return.

“I said no.” Rhea sternly raised her voice at you. She gave you a toughened stare trying to pick apart your thoughts.

 You figured out Rhea’s kryptonite, one simple word. Over the past several months of your relationship, you took note of Rhea’s behavior shift after using one particular word. Tonight you wanted to abuse the hell out of that word.

“Oh, but Mami I know you’ll have so much fun…” You whined in her ear, her hands gripping at your sides the moment you let that word out of your mouth.

Rhea shot a look at you, letting out a heavy breath. She had caved and you knew it. “I guess I can make some time for you baby…tonight only.” Rhea hummed out. She was pissed about going out…but that damn word…it did things to her. You pecked her lips innocently knowing you got exactly what you wanted. 

After the two of you dropped Rhea’s bag off at the hotel you dragged her to a nearby club down the street. You had wasted no time ordering a shot of tequila as well as Rhea’s go-to, a neat whiskey. You ushered Rhea to a small booth right near the dance floor. Rhea kept quiet and stayed in her seat trying to enjoy her whiskey while you made multiple trips to the bar ordering an array of drinks over the span of forty minutes. 

You pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of Rhea as she examined the club around her. “Oh c’mon,” She grouched. “You look like you want to kill everyone in here, it's a little sexy,” You joked before adding “I’ll be right back.”

 “Alright that’s enough you don’t need anymore.” She snapped at you as you came back to the table with two shots of vodka. You pouted as you handed her one of the shots “Are you gonna come dance with me Mr. Grumpy Pants?” Rhea shot you a glare and shook her head as she shooed you away. “Your loss, Mami.” You teased before downing your shot and walking out to the dance floor. 

You knew Rhea was eye fucking you while you were out dancing so you made sure to put on a show for her. You “accidentally” lifted your skirt to show the bottom half of your ass knowing no matter how pissed the woman acted she was going insane for you. 

Just several minutes later a man approached you asking if you’d like to take a shot with him and his buddies. You knew Rhea would put you through hell if she saw you drinking anymore but she was occupied closing your tab. It was a free shot of course you had to take it. You went up to the end of the bar and had one last shot. But the second your shot glass hit the table you knew you had fucked up. 

Rhea was storming towards you looking more furious than ever. She stole your hand and started dragging you out of the club, making sure to shove her shoulder into the guy who had offered you a drink. “Oh c’mon! You expect me to say no to a free drink?! I was saving you money!! ” You blurted out once you got to the street. You were practically running as you tried to keep up with the woman as she led you back to your hotel without saying one word.

The second the door to your room had latched, Rhea drove you against the nearest wall leaving virtually no space between the two of you. “You think you're so cute whoring yourself out for drinks from strangers don't you?” She snarled inches from your lips. You kept your mouth shut as you dozed off staring into Rhea’s deep blue eyes.

“Answer me you fucking slut.” She demanded as she delivered a slap across your left cheek. In return, you just smirked making sure to not make a sound. That smile of yours drove Rhea insane, she lost all control as she shoved her lips onto yours whilst backing you up to the edge of the bed.

Rhea had shoved you down onto the bed before immediately connecting your lips again. You matched every sloppy movement the buff woman made. “I’m gonna ruin you whether you like it or not you little brat.” She whispered, trailing her lips down to your neck. Her lips attacked your neck as she left multiple bites causing you to let out a series of whines. 

While Rhea spent her sweet time focusing on your neck her hands found themselves tugging off your shirt and discarding it on the floor. Once she had discovered you weren't wearing a bra she pulled away. “What a slut…couldn’t even cover yourself up this morning.” She commented as she admired your top half.

 Rhea lowered herself to your chest, licking right across your nipple as a moan escaped your mouth. She knew she was driving you insane as she lapped her tongue in circles around your nipples. As you squirmed underneath her touch she managed to yank your skirt off.

A whiny moan left your mouth once Rhea’s thumb began making circles over your clit, the fabric of your flooded panties adding even more pleasure. “So soaked for me already hm, you’ve been wanting Mami all night haven’t you,” Rhea snarled, leaving you speechless. You knew you were in deep shit and you were paying for the actions that happened just twenty-five minutes ago. 

As soon as Rhea knew she had you folding under her touch she pulled away. She stood up between your legs as she tore off her unbuttoned shirt. “Too bad naughty girls don’t get to be touched,” Rhea fake pouted.  She wasn’t going to touch you until you were begging. She needed to hear your pleading.

Rhea’s full frame stood at the edge of the bed stalking your every move. Your right hand snaked down your stomach before being swatted away by Rhea. A whimpered “Please” broke your silent streak. Rhea bent over your face, her warm breaths melting your skin “Oh baby I’m nowhere even near started and I already have you so worked up. Poor thing…it’s gonna take a lot more than a pathetic please before I touch you.” She whispered before standing upright again.

“Please! I need you to touch me!” You crashed out. Rhea gave you a look of pity mixed with anger, you knew she wanted more. “I’ll be such a good girl for you!! I just need your touch!” You earned a simple smirk from Rhea. 

“Mami!” You cried out in frustration. There it was, exactly what she was looking for. “I’ll do anything Mami! Please!!! Touch me Mami!” You whined.

The grin on Rhea’s face grew larger. “Mmm what a naughty girl you are.” Rhea huffed out

“Now tell me what you want from Mami,” She said, kneeling down right in front of your core that was near the edge of the bed. “Your mouth Mami!” You begged. 

Rhea looked up at you as she planted a kiss on your clothed clit. “You want Mami’s mouth right here don’t you?” She teased, causing you to let out a pathetic whimper. “Right there!” You cried before Rhea pulled your panties off in a swift motion causing you to let out a gasp at the sensation of the cold air against your wetness.

Rhea needed to taste you as much as you needed her tongue in between your folds. But Rhea wasn’t done teasing you, not yet. She enjoyed hearing your whimpers as she kissed and licked stripes over your inner thighs. “Please Mami, I need your mouth. I’ll be such a good girl for you!” You pleaded as she drove you insane. 

“Pathetic little girl.” Rhea taunted under her breath before finally diving her tongue between your folds. She kept her eyes looking up at you, she loved seeing how much she satisfied you.

Rhea’s tongue slipped right into your entrance as her nose rested on your clit. All you could spit out were yelps and moans. Rhea had gone back to tracking her tongue up and down your center. 

She slipped her middle finger into you causing you to let out a string of moans. Once you had gotten a feel for her finger, Rhea knew you would want more and that's exactly why she pulled her finger out. You cried out her name begging to be touched again. 

She hadn't forgotten the little stunt you pulled earlier and she wasn't gonna let you forget either. She pulled herself up off the floor and hovered her face over yours, placing her clothed leg right against your core. “I need you,” You cried out. “You were being such a naughty girl earlier. Mami thinks you need to be punished for that.” She menacingly said before flipping you onto your stomach.

You pushed your ass up in the air knowing exactly what you were in for. Rhea delivered a slap to your ass just before you sharply gasped. You heard the sound of Rhea’s belt being slipped out of her jeans. “No no no!!! Mami please no! It won’t happen again I swear!!” You wailed.

The woman just ignored you as she slashed her belt down on your soft skin causing you to scream out. “Count.” She demanded. Rhea made you count all ten lashings she gave you. She had you braindead between each lashing she gave you.

“Such a good girl for Mami, now let me see your pretty little pussy.” Rhea declared while flipping you over and spreading your legs. The large woman kneeled back down before attacking your clit with her tongue, sending shock waves through your spine.

You covered your mouth to quiet the moans coming from you as she devoured you. Rhea slipped two of her fingers into you while using her other hand to pull your hand away from your mouth. “I want this whole floor to hear how good I’m treating you baby.” She hummed against your clit whilst curling her fingers inside you. 

Rhea knew all of your weak spots and she made sure they didn't go unnoticed. As her tongue piercing rocked over your clit back and forth you were about to come undone. “Mami I’m gonna cum!” You howled before Rhea growled out, “No you’re not angel, you’re gonna be a good girl and wait until you get permission.” Rhea slipped her fingers out of your hole as she stood up. 

“Please Mami I need you, you make me feel so go-” You were interrupted by Rhea's lips crashing onto yours as her fingers found their way back into you. You took a hold of her midnight hair tugging at her roots, in return Rhea let out muffled groans into your mouth. It drove her crazy whenever you pulled on her hair, she would never admit it but it was obvious by her responses.

Rhea felt your walls tighten around her curling her two fingers, she pulled her thumb up to your clit beginning to drag circles around your bud. You were a drunk mess under her, your breath getting heavier. 

As you were nearly unable to control your orgasm you were hit with that same feeling of defeat you felt moments ago as Rhea had yet again pulled away from your touch. All you could was cry out praying for her to touch you again. You knew you pissed her off but this was borderline tortuous. 

“You poor thing,” Rhea fake pouted, chuckling as she walked towards your suitcase. Rhea knew you would bring her strap, she shoved her way around your suitcase for a moment before pulling it out. Rhea made her way towards you before removing her jeans and boyshorts.

You bucked your hips up into the air watching her put her strap on. “So needy,” She smirked, “You want to cum all over my cock don’t you baby…” 

“I need to cum on your cock!! Mami please let me cum on your cock!” You pleaded.

Rhea just had to tease you one last time as she repeatedly put her tip in, pulling it out right after.

Once the buff woman was satisfied with your series of cries and whimpers she slowly filled you up. You let out a string of moans and cusses as Rhea took a firm grip of your thighs and began thrusting slowly. “Mhm-taking Mami’s cock so good baby.” She hummed, taking in your view.

As you started rocking your hips against her thrusts she began to pick up her speed. Rhea knew you liked it when she fucked you hard but she would always make sure you were fully ready for her cock. Your moans and Rhea’s coos echoed in the bare hotel room. 

She took hold of your hips as she was thrusting to a speed the both of you clearly went crazy for. Rhea’s main focus was always pleasuring you but tonight the pressure Rhea felt on her core with every thrust was sending her over the edge. She wanted to cum with you.

“Mami,” You whimpered, rocking your hips up and down as her hands trailed around your neck and chest.

“Shhhh…soon baby.” She reassured, lowering her chest to yours, you tugged at her sports bra signaling you wanted her to remove it.

 Rhea threw her bra across the room as her thrusts were becoming faster and more sloppy. The two of you were a moaning and groaning mess.

Rhea wrapped her hand around the base of your throat. Hovering over you she muffled out “Now are you gonna be a good girl for me from now on.” Her words were more of a demand rather than a question and you knew if you didn’t answer you wouldn’t be able to cum for the next month.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna be such a good girl for you!” You squealed out moaning. “Please Please Please Mami!” You begged once again.. You both couldn’t hang on much longer as each thrust grew sloppier. 

“Go ahead baby, I want you to cum all over Mami’s cock.” Rhea urged you to finally let go. 

The two of you slurred out profanities as the both of you let go of all your built up tension. Sloppy kisses were exchanged as the both of you rode out your orgasms. ”Such a pretty girl,” Rhea whispered right in your ear sending shivers down your spine. 

A final wail left our mouth as Rhea pulled out of you. Rhea swiped her finger across the strap stealing a sample of your cum before licking her finger clean. She helped you sit up at the edge of the bed before getting another pile of your sweetness on the pad of her thumb.

“Open up sweet girl” She requested, you obeyed opening your mouth before sucking Rhea's finger clean. Rhea stood over you as she licked her teeth. “God baby you’re making me want to fuck you all over again.” She teased leaving you giggling. Rhea got a warm rag and began carefully cleaning you up then began cleaning herself up. 

Rhea plopped herself onto the bed pulling you to lay on her chest. Your aftercare was one of the most important things to Rhea, she knew she was rough on you so she always made time to hold you close to her never wanting you to feel like just a toy for her. The two of you silently admiring each other's faces from inches away, admiring the intricacies of eyes, combing fingers through hair, tracing invisible shapes on arms. Little kisses were littered across each other's faces. It was just the two of you, no clothes, no music, no distractions, maybe some smeared makeup but hey you can’t deny how attractive her in-ring makeup was all smeared. 

“You’re gonna be so hungover in the morning,” Rhea broke the silence with her sly comment. “And you’re gonna be the one taking care of me so I guess I’m the winner here!” You nudged her arm leaving her sarcastically rolling her eyes.

The both of you fell back into your comfortable silence. You could stay in her arms forever. No matter what wringer she put you through she was your home.

[luveline]

What about if in Eddie and Roan, Eddie and Reader' are both occupied with wedding stuff or smth else and they left Roan with either Wayne or Steve and Robin, and it's just fluffy fluff about them being the best uncles/grandpa ever?

Roan wraps her arms around his neck. “Why can’t I come?” 

Her dad has pretty much always felt like an extension of her. He’s dad. So when she doesn’t get to go places with him that aren't work or school, it doesn’t make sense. She’d care less if Uncle Wayne wasn’t too tired for a slumber party, because her Uncle Wayne is the best uncle ever. 

“Baby,” Eddie says, in that soft sweet voice that means she’s being let down easy, “you can’t come because it’s a lot to do in one day, okay?” He encourages her face back. He’s on his knees to be her height, but he’s still taller. “I know you want to come, but it won’t be any fun at all. We have to go argue with people all day. Y/N’s gonna put on her scary mommy pants and I’m gonna have to back her up because she’s my girl.” 

Roan just looks at him. Eddie grins. 

“Okay, but will you bring me something?” she asks in a whisper. 

You laugh where you’re standing in the doorway behind him. 

“What do you want?” he asks. 

She leans in to whisper in his ear. When she pulls away, he’s squaring his expression into something quite fierce. She’s confident she’ll have what she asks for as soon as he’s home. 

You and Eddie kiss her goodbye, hands quick to intertwine as you walk down the driveway, though you take your hand back to wave at her with both hands when you realise she’s waiting on the porch for you to go. 

Steve holds her shoulder. “Should we go back inside?” 

Roan tips her head back. “Steve…” 

“What, babe?” 

“Can we get ice cream?” 

He holds her gaze. “Maybe. Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“We have dinner first, and you have to eat two vegetables. Because last time your dad said I’m terrible at looking after you.” 

“You’re not terrible,” Roan says, shaking her head vehemently. 

Roan offers him her arms and he picks her up. When she was a baby Steve and Robin used to call her Princess Ro on account of her never being put down, but that was usually because she’d been traded from arm to arm rather than her being demanding. She was demanding, of course, she was a baby. 

“Thank you, Roan. I know I’m not terrible, your dad just loves giving me a hard time.” 

“He does that to me too.” 

“He does not,” Steve chastises, “your dad is a great dad. Just don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Me and dad don’t have secrets,” she says. 

“I know, that’s why he’s a good dad.” Steve sighs forlornly. “Ew. Let’s be less sincere from now on. What movie do you wanna watch?” 

“You have The Little Mermaid?” 

Obviously Steve has The Little Mermaid. He plops Roan down on the couch and she balls herself up tightly. Steve thinks she might be a bit grouchy today, but it’s hard to say yet. He tries to nip it in the bud before it can start, wrapping her in the blanket she likes with the soft ends and cutting her a boat load of apples for peanut butter. “Thanks, Uncle Steve,” she says, stretching her legs out over his thigh. Steve squeezes one of her feet until she grumbles and pulls it away. “I forgot you do that.” 

Steve laughs loudly. “Do what, babe?” 

“You’re like dad. You aga-vate.” 

“I do, huh?” he asks, patting her leg. “Sorry. Just teasing.” 

“Mom says teasing is okay if it doesn’t hurt your feelings.” 

“Did I hurt your feelings?” 

“You hurt my foot.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing, because he knows it didn’t hurt too much. 

“It’s okay. I don’t want feet, I want a fish tail.” 

“You do not,” Steve says, squeezing under her knee. She grumbles more and kicks at him, a few of her apple slices sliding off of her plate and onto the blanket. She doesn’t notice. 

Robin lets herself in not long after. She’s in sweatpants with her hair up, arms laden with soda and bags of chips. “Hey, Ro,” she says. Even when Roan was a baby, Robin has talked to her like she’s an adult. “You look comfortable. Did you miss me?” 

Roan seems to have missed Robin lots —Robin sits down and within twenty minutes has Roan snuggled under her arm, another twenty and she’s giggling sleepily at the murderous chef trying to cook the Little Mermaid’s crab friend. 

Steve and Robin are best friends, and great watchers, though it’s much easier to look after a kid when you’re allowed to spoil them. They feed Roan chips and soda (though they aren’t animals, the soda is limited to one small cup, and the chips are before a dinner that includes three different vegetables), and they let her jump on the couch and climb up on the kitchen counter to play with the soap dispenser. 

Pick up time comes and passes. Roan sits kicking her feet on the kitchen table, her coat unzippered and her wellies hitting the chair. “Are they late?” she asks. 

Steve offers her a slice of orange. “Yeah, babe, it looks like it.” 

“Are they gonna never come back?” 

“Of course they’re coming back,” Robin says, “your dad has no personality outside of you. He needs you to be happy.” 

Roan smiles to herself. “Yes,” she agrees, taking a bite of her orange. 

Steve kneels in front of her and pulls the two sides of her jacket together. “Your teeth are orange.” 

Roan accidentally drops the orange rind out of her teeth. It rolls down her legs and hits him in the shirt, leaving a greeny tinged stain on his blue polo. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, zipping her coat to the collar and brushing her hair back away from her sticky cheeks gently, “I’ll just charge your dad extra.” 

“You’re the best, Uncle Steve,” Roan decides. 

He strokes her hair behind her ears. “You are the best, Roan. My favourite Munson ever.” 

Her eyes light with joy. “Really?” 

“Really truly.” 

“That’s a bit controversial,” Robin says, clipping Roan’s backpack shut to house what was left of her chips. 

“I don’t like Eddie and Wayne doesn’t tell me good job when I wash my hands.” Steve shrugs. “No competition.” 

The phone rings. When Robin picks up, she says that it’s Eddie, and Eddie needs to talk to Steve, who, after a short conversation, passes the phone to Roan. 

“Dad?”

“Hey, baby! Sorry we’re not there, we went to the wrong place for mom’s hair stuff and it was a disaster, we won’t be home for another hour, I’m sorry. Are you really mad?” 

“I'm not really mad.” 

“I’m bringing you a present, remember? So can you keep being a good girl for Uncle Steve? No shouting?” 

Roan decides this is alright. Eddie tells her he loves her about six times and Roan hands the phone back up because she can’t reach the receiver, letting Steve hang up. She frowns at the floor, her head hanging, dark hair curling in front of her eyes.

“How about we make use of your shoes and coat and go get that ice cream I promised?” he suggests. “Anything you want. You did eat all your vegetables.” 

Robin rolls her eyes. Roan slouches sadly into his legs, the beginnings of a smile on her lips when she looks up at him and asks, “Hot fudge?” 

“As much hot fudge as you want,” he promises. 

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Let You Down

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, John Winchester x daughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: after you fail on a hunt, John leaves you high and dry, but Dean is there to help.

“Kill her!”

“Oh sweetie, you wouldn’t kill your own mommy, would you?”

“You-you’re not my mom, you’re not!” You cried. “You’re a monster.”

“Kill her!” John Winchester pushed you forwards, and your machete shook in your small hands.

The vampire that used to be your mother bared its teeth at you. Even as she advanced on you, murder in her eyes, you didn’t go for the kill.

“M-mom please,” you begged. “Don’t-don’t make me do this, ple-“ you cried out when John tackled you out of the way as your mother lunged at you. Once she missed, she gave up, turned and rushing out of the building. John started after her, but stopped when he saw it was pointless; she was too fast.

You heard your machete clang to the ground as your hand went limp. Your shaking legs gave out, and John held you up as he dragged you out of the building.

“What was that?” He demanded, and you flinched when he shook your shoulders. “She was going to kill you!”

“M-my mom…” you began to shiver, and you only now noticed that it was starting to rain.

“That wasn’t your mom!” John growled. “Not anymore. That was a vamp. And now, she got away thanks to you.”

You hesitantly followed John as he started towards his car. Your legs were shaky, and you felt like you could hardly breathe.

“No,” you flinched when John held out a hand to stop you. “No, you’re going back to the motel. I have to track that vamp, and I can’t trust you to help with that.”

“How-how am I gonna get back?” You wrapped your arms around yourself as the cold rain picked up.

“You’re gonna walk,” John opened his door and climbed into the car. “It’s not that far, and I have your mess to clean up.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, John had closed his door and backed out of the lot, turning down the street and disappearing around a bend in the road.

You were still for a long moment, frozen in shock, until the crack of lightning and boom of thunder startled you into action. You began in the direction that you’d came from, trying to calculate how many miles you would have to walk. It was a fairly straight shot to the motel, so you were almost convinced that you wouldn’t get lost, but with the cold rain beating down on you, you were worried about being out here too long. The last thing John needed was to get back from his hunt only to find you either not back yet, or sick from the cold. You figured you’d burdened him enough for one night, so if you were gonna get back, you had to be quick about it.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out there, it felt like forever, but you didn’t think you’d gone very far. The wind was against you, threatening to knock you off your weary limbs with every gust. The shaking had gotten worse, and no matter how tightly you wrapped your jacket around you, the soaked material offered you no warmth.

You were just beginning to worry that your strength would give out when the roar of an engine and the glare of headlights made you lift your head. You couldn’t quite make it out in the gloom, until it pulled to a stop next to you and your big brother Dean stepped out.

“You ok?” He demanded, but one look at you answered his question, and without hesitation he pulled off his jacket and wrapped you up in it. “C’mon, get in the car.”

“Why are you here?” You waited until you were safely in the Impala to speak.

“Dad called,” Dean kept his eyes on the road, and the tension in his shoulders was making you nervous. “He told me what happened.”

“He asked you to come get me?” It didn’t seem likely.

“Nope,” Dean said.

“Then wha-“

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dean turned finally to glance at you. “Are you ok?”

You gave him a feeble nod in return, hugging his jacket more tightly around you as you continued to shiver.

“Words, kiddo.”

“I’m ok,” you cursed the quaver in your voice that revealed the truth.

“Yeah, ok,” Dean scoffed. “Look, we’ll be at the motel soon, and you’re gonna take a hot shower and I’ll get you some dry clothes and warm food.”

“Ok,” you sniffled, trying desperately to hold back the tears building up behind your eyes. The image of your mother, fangs bared, charging at you, wouldn’t stop replaying in your head.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Dean said.

“I couldn’t kill her,” you ducked your head. “She tried to kill me, and I didn’t do anything. I let dad down.”

Dean was silent for a long moment, as though fighting what he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke,

“He let you down.”

“What?”

“Making you go after your mom,” Dean shook his head. “You should never have had to do that.”

You stared at your big brother for the remainder of the ride. You’d never heard him speak a word against John, and now that he had you weren’t sure how to respond. Was he right?

“C’mon,” Dean led you inside the motel, pushing you towards the bathroom as he went to scavenge food from the fridge to warm up.

“How are you doing?” Dean asked after your shower as he handed you a paper plate of leftovers.

“Better,” you sat down on Dean’s bed, and Dean followed you. You stared at him in surprise when he put his hand against your forehead.

“You’re not getting sick?” He questioned, pulling his hand away.

“I don’t think so.”

“Ok. Finish that,” he gestured at your plate, “and get some sleep, ok?” He wasn’t about to tell you, but he was hoping that you’d be fast asleep by the time John returned. If John put two and two together and realized what Dean had done, then Dean wanted to be the one blamed, not you.

Once you’d finished your food, you stretched out on Dean’s bed and tried to fall asleep. For some reason, you found that you still couldn’t stop shivering. You weren’t sure if it was the result of the cold rain, or of what you’d been through tonight.

“Dean?” You called hesitantly after a while.

“What’s up?” He asked, stepping away from where he’d been researching and coming to stand by you. “You should be asleep.” Then, he noticed your shaking. “Hey, you ok?”

“Can-can you stay with me?”

Dean didn’t hesitate, climbing in next to you and pulling you close.

“Are you cold?”

“Kind of,” you breathed. “I just-I just can’t stop shaking.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Dean sensed your rising panic; he didn’t blame you, after the night you’d had. “It’s ok, I’m right here. Just try and get some rest, you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Dean kept you close, and the combination of his body heat and his warm comforter over you managed to ease your shivering.

“You did good today, kid,” Dean kept his voice quiet. “I know it was hard, but you didn’t let anyone down tonight.”

You didn’t respond, you just huddled even closer to your big brother. You breathed in a contented breath as you fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, trusting that no matter what else happened, he would never let you down.

[redroomreflections]

All These Kisses

All These Kisses

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

The Loud House Au - can be found on a03

Summary: the kisses shared between both women

Note: since y'all keep asking me to upload original and new stuff (eye roll)

Your love language had always been physical touch and quality time, especially spent with Natasha. With six children, two parents-in-law, two dogs, and a cat, there often left no time for either of you to spend any real time with each other. It's amazing how you do it. There's always something going on in your life that pulls you in every direction. Cara and Willow need braces. Of course, let's set an appointment for the only free time you have that week. James has soccer practice—okay, you can switch off on that. You pull into the driveway as Natasha is pulling out. A honk and a wave of acknowledgment are sometimes the only things you get that day.

Save for mornings. Mornings like this are reserved for the both of you. There's a certain level of intimacy that can't be achieved even with sex. Not that either one of you is looking for this to lead to sex. Making out was a lost art that you'd certainly enjoy during times like this. Natasha's warm hands are under your pajama top, mapping the expanse of your back, as you moan into her lips. You're not trying to take this further, but you certainly enjoy this. Natasha is a wonderful kisser, and she makes sure to make you feel loved and wanted, just as you do for her.

Her lips are soft and supple, and she's talented as hell as you push yourself further into her arms. The moment is lost, though, as your alarm goes off. The two of you laugh at each other as you help Natasha find her clothes. This is just another day for the two of you, but it's one of the few moments that you get to share like this.

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

The next opportunity arises in the middle of a conversation with the kids. Natasha is preparing breakfast with the kids, making toast when she takes it out of the oven too soon. She barely reacts, but you notice just in time as you come in for your morning coffee.

"Ah," Natasha frowns, looking down at her thumb as she haphazardly drops the toast onto a plate.

"Careful, baby," you say as you take her hand in yours to inspect her injury. "Not too bad." You grin as you kiss her thumb.

She rolls her eyes with a smirk. "Thanks for the warning," she grins as she pecks your lips before returning to her task.

You watch her for a few seconds more. Gosh, you love that woman.

************ 

Another kiss as you head out of the door. You're running late for work and so she's volunteered to take the kids to school this morning. You thank her as you search for your keys. Somehow they're never where you left them.

"Where are my keys? Have you seen my keys?" You ask as you set your coffee down on the foyer table. Seven people seemingly ignore you as you frantically move about the room. "Cara?"

"Don't look at me," Cara shrugs.

"Charlie?" You look to the girl who often pretended to drive with you or Natasha's keys.

"Did you check your briefcase?" Natasha mumbles as she attempts to put Luke's shoes on. She glances in your direction to see you running around.

"They're not in there," You say with a slight eye roll.

"Just asking, they're usually in your bag," Natasha shakes her head.

"I know and thank you but they're not there," You sigh. Why did this have to happen today? When you have back-to-back meetings with your boss. Making partner at this company has been a goal of yours for a while now. You can't have any mishaps.

"Just take the corvette," Natasha offers.

"And risk dying? I don't know," You frown. The two of you go back and forth for a little longer.

"It's not that bad," Natasha stands to her full height. "It's either that or be late."

"I know I just-" You look down to see Paige staring up at you with a frown on her face.

"Mommy, James called me a potty word." She whined.

"What potty word?" You ask looking over at James who isn't the slightest bit phased by his sister telling on him.

"He called me Poopybutt," Paige scrunched her nose. "I told him that is not my name."

"James, please don't call your sister names," You say as you turn from her. You go over to the hook where your keys could possibly b and find nothing. "We're leaving in a minute, go get in the car." You order. "Where the hell are my keys."

"Oh, you cussed." Paige's eyes widened.

"Hell isn't a curse word, it's in the Bible," Charlie explains as she twirls in her school skirt.

"Mommy did it though," Paige argued.

"Yeah, so did James," Cara reminded her.

"Why is everyone trying to tell on me," James stomped his foot.

"Mom, can you take me to school now please?" Cara asked, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

"She'll take you in a minute," You roll your eyes, patting your pocket and almost giving up until you find Natasha standing near your briefcase with your keys in her hand. She has a knowing smirk on her face. She'd seen them there as she was packing your lunch and thought she'd save you the trouble of searching for them. She knew how stressed out you were for the day. You could tell she was trying to hold her tongue, and not gloat in the moment. "Thanks, baby," You say sheepishly as you step over to her. You grab the keys gently from her hand and peck her lips thankfully. "Love you."

"Love you too, have a good day." She grins, patting your ass as she sends you on your way.

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

Other kisses happen when you're too engrossed in work to leave your computer and she comes in as innocently as she does. First, she rounds the computer, giving you a small wave, before she stands behind your chair. She wraps her arms around you and begins to run her hands over your arms.

"Hey, baby," She purrs. "How much longer do you have?"

"Just a little bit," You mumble. "I have this file here that I need to read through."

"And what do I need to do to get your attention?" She asks.

"You have it," You say, turning to see her grinning widely. "I'm just not finished yet. Why?"

"I miss you that's all," She murmurs as she kisses the side of your head. Those kisses then turn into more. She's kissing your neck, and leaving bites in strategic places while unbuttoning your shirt. She's trying to get you to abandon your work, and it's working.

"Nat, baby," You moan as her warm mouth closes around the shell of your ear.

"Yes, love?"

"You're distracting me," You inform her.

"I'm just kissing my wife," She says.

"I can't focus," You pout.

"Fine," She sighs, pulling away. She sits down near your desk. She looks at you with a playful pout. You've got a lot of work to do, so you decide to leave her be. You could be finished faster.

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

The next kiss is needy. It's the kind you get when you're in the middle of sex. The kind you can't even describe. The kind you get flashbacks from in the middle of your workday.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You chant as your wife's head bobs between your legs. Her tongue is lapping at your cunt, and her hands are holding onto your thighs. You're coming down from your orgasm when she moves up your body. Her face lingers inches away from yours and you can't help but place a hand on the back of her neck to bring her closer. "Kiss me." You beg her. She grins and brings her lips closer, just barely grazing yours. Your hips buck up to hers as she teases you. "Nat," You whine.

"Shh," She whispers against your lips, moving a little closer, but never touching. Her tongue traces your bottom lip, begging for entrance and you oblige. This type of kissing is one of your favorites. You could do it all day long. You could live inside the way Natasha kisses you. You could die a happy woman with your lips against hers.

"I love you," You whimper.

"I love you too." 

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

(𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

a/n: finally some fluff with our favourite (not dead) mommy <3

warning/s: none.

“Watch the stars with me.” It wasn’t a request nor was it a question. Larissa shifted her eyes from the correspondence she was writing, her hand pausing midway in completing an exceptionally long word. The tip of her fountain pain was then lifted from the paper to prevent it from bleeding further. She looked at you, her face morphing into something more softer.

“Come on. I haven’t been able to watch the stars for a while.” 

The stars looked magnificent tonight, burning bright and littered all over in the dark sky, outshining the moon itself. Truly, it was a sight to see. Perhaps indulging your demand wouldn’t do much harm and she needed a break. An all too well deserved break.

She pushed her seat and stood up without argument, running her palms down her dress to soothe the wrinkles and adjusting her dress. She took the hand you were offering, intertwining her fingers along with yours and allowing the heat to soothe her sore knuckles. She had either been typing or writing too much.

The smile on her lips, one that was too sweet and too tender, made your heart squeeze in your chest. It reminded you of that one time when she unceremoniously dropped a kiss on your forehead after driving her back home. It had been late, and she was tired, a little tipsy, too. It might have been the wine but it made your heart squeeze all the same.

Trailing from behind, hands still connected, she followed you to the balcony of her office where the cold air of the night breeze through tainting her cheeks pink and making her step closer to you. The night was peaceful making up for the chaos that it had been all day, allowing the older woman to decompress.

“Are you okay? Not freezing your tits or something, boss?” You giggled, the chilled air made her cheeks flushed or was it your hand that was still encased with hers? 

You gave her hand another squeeze before letting go, your hesitation was clear, but Larissa was too engrossed admiring the stars to notice. You watched her wrap her arms around herself, rubbing her palms on the sleeves of her dress.

“I’m all right, dear. Thank you for checking. Are you comfortable, yourself?” She said, drawing her eyes from the stars to look at you. You didn’t say a word, instead you shifted closer to her, pressing to her side and dropping your head to her shoulder, carefully so, as if moving too suddenly would scare her away. You hoped that was enough to show her how comfortable you were despite struggling to match her height. You kept your hand mostly to yourself.

Just then you felt her adjusting, levelling her shoulder down to let you rest your head properly without standing on your toes. She would have loved to tease you about it and she probably would next time but tonight, it all felt romantic to even try. Though she wasn’t at all successful at suppressing the goofy grin on her lips. 

She sighed, letting her head fall to yours. 

“The stars are truly beautiful tonight.” Her gaze wandered, looking for any present constellation.

“Indeed they are, boss.” You had your eyes on her, it was a bit difficult with your head position but you could see the underside of her chin and jaw. She’s beautiful and you didn't care about the damn stars.

“Work ended a few hours ago. I’m no longer your boss.” 

“And what else would you like me to call you? Mommy, perhaps?” There was a playful bite in your tone, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the woman. 

“That’s not—that’s…no!” she was fumbling. Unbelievable! Her cheeks were flushing, too cute and too much for your own little heart.

You rubbed your cheek  to her clothed shoulder, your eyes glittering with mirth, “I’m merely teasing, Larissa. Relax, please. Unless…” You wiggled your brows at her, daunting her further.

Larissa knew it was best to ignore your shenanigans, and that’s what she did, she let her silence speak for herself and by the look on your face you accepted your defeat and settled down. 

She let the hum of the forest and night creatures fill in her ears, taking in the uninterrupted silence. Being in your presence eased her thoughts. Nothing was more important beyond this interaction, the little glances shared in between with your cheeky smile never failing to make her feel warm. She wanted to kiss your lips.

Later, you found your hand twitching closer and closer until your pinkies touched. Larissa looked down. She made the move; grabbing your hand. She went back gazing at the sky.

“You missed what could possibly be a shooting star.” She could see you staring at her from the corners of her eyes. 

Your gaze didn’t waver, “I like what I am looking at. And no, I don’t think I’d be needing that wish tonight but thanks for telling me. Did you make a wish though?”

She looked at you, “Yes.”

“What did you wish for?”

“It won’t happen if I tell you."

“That’s silly.”

When the wind blew and you shivered next to her, the older woman followed her instinct to wrap her arms around you from behind without putting much thought into it. It was severely unlike her. She too, was cold, and it was a mistake that she discarded her jacket early on but the feeling of your bare arms against hers was rewardingly good, better even. 

“All good?”

You nuzzled into her, feeling the press of her breasts against your upper back, her hands on your tummy pulling you into her arms, shielding you from the cold. “Yes, definitely all good. Thanks.”

“I can get used to this.” Larissa absentmindedly blurted out, too absorbed by the whole thing happening to give her mind a chance to contemplate her words.

“The cold weather?” With eyes full of mischief you spun around, her hands landing on your hips.

“No, you fool. This–us. I don’t know what we are but I enjoy this. I enjoy holding your hand. I enjoy having you so close to me, how you ogle at my breasts sometimes even if the act alone is too perverse I find myself enjoying the attention. After all, we're just human beings with needs.” 

You pushed yourself up, hand on her chest, “And I would love to supply those needs if you let me.” 

Larissa had a bittersweet smile, touched by the way you said those words while you were looking into her eyes depicting your genuine intent. You didn’t even stutter. You bravely faced her, giving yourself to her and for that, she reached her hand out, sweetly cradling your cheeks  with her gentle palm, her thumb stroking against the cooled skin.

“You know how to expertly sway a woman, don’t you, darling?” She giggled. When did she ever giggle? What is this that you are doing to her? Giggling and blushing…Gosh, Larissa felt like she was two decades younger.

"If I wasn't so small, I would have swept you off of your feet and kissed you, Larissa Weems. The things you do to me are insane. You are driving me insane."

Larissa put a finger under your chin, coaxing you to look up. Her lips were a hair's breadth away, and you couldn't, for the love of God, tear your gaze away. You were quivering with anticipation, dizzy with the closeness of your faces and her warm touch. Her lips were begging to be kissed. 

You took a deep breath, “Fuck the stars.” You surged forward, hand cupping her neck to pull her down. You felt her gasp on your lips. Larissa could as well be freezing her tits in this ungodly cold night, her muscles stiffening but she couldn't bring herself to care, not when she had you like this, so putty in her hands. She could feel the way your pulse jumped as her hand rested quite perfectly above your jugular area. Your hand fisting her clothes seemingly grounding yourself. You looked so tempted. So hungry. It elicited a spark in her belly, her lips curled into a coy grin.

Your hand soon gave up on clutching her dress and cupped her face instead. You kissed her gently, the languid movement of your lips matching the strokes of your thumb on her face. Her fingers in your hair curling and tugging, still with care. The way she held on to your hip had a slice of possessiveness and you welcomed it. Your body succumbed to her as she backed you up the nearest wall, it was cold and you pulled away to curse but it was then swallowed when her lips dove right back.

The pace of the kiss stayed consistent, and the mere seconds felt so much longer, like you had been kissing her for hours yet you wanted more until being out of breath was the only reason you'd pull away. You didn't want to part but that was what happened, you panted as you tried collecting yourself, head tucked under her chin and she held you steadily.

In retrospect, maybe she should have kissed you sooner, maybe she should have aimed for your lips instead of your forehead that night. She knew she badly wanted to but for some reason, and she knew it was for the best, she kissed your forehead and bid you goodnight. She thought about it in her bed; the smell of your shampoo and sweat and the hairspray mingling together creating a distinct scent that made her brain foggy. She saw the smile that stayed on your lips when she looked back before crossing her threshold. She hoped she could have been braver.

"You're thinking out loud." you murmured,

Her gaze fell down, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear, something innocently sweet that made your heart flutter, "I was thinking the night of the gala."

A smile creeped on your lips, "When you had too much to drink and I had to drive you home?"

"You insisted on driving me home if I remember correctly, darling."

"I did. You were beautiful that night. I could hardly look away from you if you noticed." 

She did, yes, and she had quite a hard time trying to act so normal about it that was why she drank wine beyond her limit, thanks to you.

"You are too charming for your own good."

"And you are too tall so lean down and kiss me some more."

You both went for another round of kiss, her lips strayed a couple of times, trailing down your neck until her lips were stopped by the collar of your shirt. She didn't insist on going any further and went back to dip her tongue into your mouth. All of this kissing and caressing made you throb.

She was smiling indulgently as she pulled away, forehead to forehead, “I wished for you.” she breathed.

“I fucking knew it!” With a smile so big, you lunged yourself into her as if you weren’t already pressed. Larissa almost stumbled down, lucky you, she regained her footing and held you.

“You are so cheesy.” 

For the remainder of the night you stayed tangled up together, kissing and all. 

Shooting star or not, you knew you’d be hers. That much was clear.

[arcanarix]

Make That Double, Ch8 - Yan!SatoSugu x Fem!Reader [AO3]

Word Count: ~7K

Warnings: non-con, exhibitionism, double penetration (in one hole and in both), mommy kink (geto calls you mamma), sex toys like dildos and nipple clamps mentioned

For more reasons you can’t wrap your head around, Geto has become far, far kinder to you.

And you know what that means.

You can’t fuck this up again.

Yes, while men can be easy to manipulate… Geto seems to be smarter than you give him credit for, as well. That’s YOUR mistake. You realize that, and now you have to conjure a new way out but that doesn’t mean you can’t poke and prod at what seems to be a shaky foundation between Gojo and Geto. You can still play it up to your advantage. It’s gotten you out of some high-time embarrassing scenarios, like the other night when Gojo wanted to test out a pair of nipple clamps he’s found while online shopping. One glance at your horrified expression and Geto refuses to entertain the possibility, even after Gojo profusely begged him to let him try it out.

“We can try it on you, Satoru,” Geto offers with a hum. Geto settles the argument with that when Gojo seems more than pleased by the idea. Tweedledum glances at you with that irritating smirk on his face as he waves the package of nipple clamps over your face.

“Just let Princess take the wheel from here, Suguru~! But then you have to let me put them on her!”

That may have been the first time the two of them allow you agency.

Well, not the only time.

When it’s just you and Geto, he doesn’t initiate all that much. Instead, he seems to allow you a bit more room to breathe after any sessions with Tweedledum there. You can’t call sweet, because that’s one word you can’t use to describe either of those two men, but it’s…considerate enough.

It’s still not enough to sway you into a certain direction, though. Because for as much as Geto insists he doesn’t expect you to return his affections, he’s let down each time you don’t acknowledge his own perceived ‘selfless’ acts.

Again, many definitions seem to have changed over the years. Apparently ‘principled’ means not killing off people without a reason (and by people, he really means young sorcerers, non-sorcerers are ‘free for alls’). ‘Selflessness’ means not forcing himself upon you when you decline his advances, and you have made a point to decline each and every one of them if he gives you the ‘illusion of choice.’

Which, again, isn’t an illusion this time around. He really does keep his hands to himself now.

More than Gojo does, at least, which is…good enough.

On your way back to the bedroom for another agonizing evening to spend with your ‘new beau,’ you stumble across a note with a bouquet of freshly picked roses resting on the foot of the bed. Your brows knit together as you pick up the note, reading its contents.

‘Meet me out in the back. We’ll have a picnic. Just us.

-Geto, S.’

You have half a mind to rip it to shreds, but you remind yourself you can’t screw this shit up again. You have to play along.

Groaning to yourself, you slip back on your robe and step back out of the room, meeting Geto in the extravagant, botanical gardens his servants maintain to perfection. If not for the circumstances, you may have taken the time to admire the beauty and the effort put into keeping up the temple’s pristine appearances.

But this temple isn’t a paradise for you. It’s your chamber of sheer torment.

You find him near the smaller, stone koi pond and fountain, where he’s rested his picnic blanket and basket. Upon sensing your presence, he glances up and smiles at you, patting the vacant spot next to him.

You don’t say a word as you accept his invitation. This is better than everything else he’s forced you into, and you keep reminding yourself not to fuck this up like a mantra.

“I figured you wanted to get some fresh air after some time,” Geto states as he sets the utensils and plates onto the blanket. You glance over at the contents of the basket—you catch some sweets from a bakery the twins like to go to nearby. Some finger sandwiches and other interesting food items you haven’t tried before. He’s even picked up some of your usual orders, perhaps for good measure.

This can’t be good news.

“That’s nice of you, Suguru,” you reply, attempting a smile as he hands you a plate.

“Did you have a good time with the twins?” he asks, tilting his head as a fond smile plays on his lips. You’re taken aback, stumbling over your answer as he places some food items onto your plate before helping himself.

“We had a great time,” you answer, “Mimiko and Nanako can’t seem to agree on a theme for their Animal Crossing home, ,though. They kept trying to get me to gang up on the other. It’s kind of adorable.”

Geto rolls his eyes at the mention of Animal Crossing.

“They probably should have gotten their own copy instead of one,” Geto murmurs, “that would have settled some issues, but I thought it was a waste of money. I can’t remember how much money Satoru wasted on Digimon games, and I don’t want them to become ungrateful for how much money I spend on them for such a dull hobby.”

“It’s not that dull,” you laugh like it’s a nervous tick for you, at this point. “Video games are a great way for a family to bond. That’s how my family and I did.”

Why are you even trying to have small talk with him?

It feels so…weird. Like there’s this barrier. You feel like you’re trying to reach some untouchable deity when you speak to him. And in some ways that’s not all that far off. Your worlds are so different from each other.

“You never talk about them,” he remarks, “Your family.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just me now. My parents died when I was a teenager and I was an only child. I don’t really know about any other family,” you shrug, nibbling mindlessly on the finger sandwich. “But I do miss them all the time. My dad was the biggest Mario nerd, so we played all of those classic games together.”

“What was your mother like?” he asks, eyes twinkling in curiosity as he inches closer to you.

“She was like any other mom I guess,” you say, “She was a lot softer though. Like, not as strict as some of my friend’s moms…”

“I see,” he hums, “I never had a close relationship with my parents. As you can imagine, I was born into a family who didn’t have sorcerers. They didn’t try to understand what was happening to me.”

That’s kind of sad…

“You’re making quite an effort for the twins to have a normal family.”

Yeah. Yet another definition which has changed…

“My girls deserve everything I never had,” Geto replies, smiling. “I can’t change my or their past, but we have a future to look forward to together.”

Maybe in another world, you may have found this truly admirable.

But this isn’t that world.

“How’s the food?” he asks quickly to change the subject, and perhaps to alleviate the tension growing between you both.

You glance at the crumbs in your hand.

“Good,” you murmur, “Fantastic. Like gourmet.”

Geto’s smile widens.

“I had the chefs prepare it special,” he explains, “But while I was out with the girls I picked up some of your orders. So help yourself.”

He gestures to all of the items laid out on the blanket.

“Of course,” you reply finally, ignoring the twist in your gut. “Thank you.”

Awkward, you muse to yourself, your lips forming a thine line.

“I really want you to be happy here,” Geto speaks up again.

Your head snaps up at that, eyes widening.

“Huh?”

A calloused hand rests on your cheek.

“It’s true,” he goes on, the hand sliding to your shoulder. He squeezes gently. Reassuringly. “While it’s best you don’t disobey me, I don’t want you to be afraid of me, either. You’re part of the family.”

What a joke. He should petition for the greatest comedian of the year if he actually expects this…

“That will take time,” you manage to bite out, your words sharper than intended but does he expect anything different? Does he honestly believe that you, after everything he has done to you, may accept this with open arms without a single complaint?

He must be out of his mind.

He pouts at that, retracting his hand (smart move, you were tempted to bite it off).

“I understand,” he sighs in defeat. For now. “It’s like I told you, I don’t need you to return my affections.” Liar. “Your cooperation is more necessary than that.”

“I know.”

He leans in to press a chaste kiss on your lips. Every time he does he tastes of fire and brimstone. Of toxins seeping deep into your skin, contaminating your body. You aren’t in love with him, and you never will be; that much you are certain. You have been dragged into this nonsense by some rotten stroke of luck, and yes, you can’t change the past, but you can see to the future.

And you don’t want a future with him.

“My little dove,” he purrs as he pulls slightly away, eyes half-mast as he takes in your features. “I wish you could let me in your world.”

There’s no chance for that.

“But I suppose I have to settle with this for now,” he continues, hovering his lips to the crook of your neck.

You flush, furtive eyes darting to either side. Out here in the open?

Why are you even surprised?

“Suguru,” you start, resting a hand on the back of his head. “Not now.”

“But no one will see,” he mutters into your skin, inhaling your scent. He smiles upon recognizing something—notes of caramel and marshmallow and amber. “You used one of the perfumes I bought you.”

Well, yeah! Of course you do. No one likes to stink. And you don’t have many options here.

“Suguru please,” you try again, and Geto makes a sound, before retracting himself from you. He still hovers close while reaching for a pastry to present to you.

“Very well,” he concedes, cutting a piece of a strawberry crepe and bringing it to your lips. “We can settle on this.”

You open your mouth and let him feed you. The rush of strawberry filling overwhelms your taste buds, but you like this better than his lips on yours. But you speak too soon, his lips finding yours again as soon as you gulp down that bite. His tongue chases remnants of that lingering taste and he hums, pulling away with a little playful nip with his canines.

“You make these sweets tolerable,” he chuckles, darting his tongue between his lips to catch any remnants of your taste.

Nasty, you think, your face falling at he sight. Ugh. Maybe it helps a little that he’s objectively gorgeous, but since he’s the kind of man he is, you can’t give him the satisfaction of even entertaining the idea that he’s objectively attractive. You try to ignore the way your heart kind of flutters whenever he glances at you with those little jewels of amethyst for eyes or whenever he draws near you to steal a kiss. It’s only because objectively, yeah, he’s attractive. That makes this a bit more bearable. Nothing more than that, right?

This is kind of pissing you off a little… what the HELL is going on in your head now? What kind of bullshit is it trying to spew at you!? Have you lost your goddamn mind?

“I need more, Mamma,” he drawls, as he sets aside the plate, digging his fingers into either side of your waist.

“Suguru…” you whimper, as his face draws close to yours and you try to crawl away. That’s asking for a death penalty here but you can’t help it. “Not out here.”

“I’ve been patient with you, Mamma. Let me touch. Satoru’s been getting all the fun, and you know how I feel about that. We came to an understanding about that, did we not?” he trails kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, and your fists clench tightly, resting on your knees.

“Ah-hem, Geto,” Suda’s voice interrupts and saves you from certain torture. She approaches the both of you, clipboard in her arms as she focuses more on the text on the page rather than what’s transpiring in front of her. Perhaps she’s witnessed more than she wanted to. “I hate to disrupt your private time, but your presence is needed. We have acquired the scammer who tried to keep money from you.”

“Ah, I’m sorry, my dear,” he sighs as he pulls away, rising to his feet. “Duty calls, but we can continue this later.” He turns to his secretary. “Suda, you can remain with her until I return.”

“Yes, Geto,” she replies, straightening her posture as he brushes past her with a displeased look on his face. Nothing grinds his gears more than conman, speaking as if he isn’t a conman himself.

He’s such a fucking hypocrite; you’ve definitely noticed.

When it looks like Geto is gone, you glance up at Suda with curiosity twinkling in your eyes—and a touch of wariness as you feel with the rest of Geto’s goons. Her wavy pink hair cascades around her heart-shaped face and her dark green eyes stun you, resembling little jewels. She stands tall and proud like a runway model, and can probably give one a run for their entire career and salary if she ever decides to go that route. You can’t help but admire another woman’s beauty—even if she probably wants nothing to do with you like everyone else around here seems to. They seem to share similar ideas when it comes to non-sorcerers: they’re scum and are better off eradicated.

She huffs, scrunching her nose in distaste as she finally addresses the likes of you. “I don’t understand what Geto’s doing with you, but as much as I don’t like it, I’m here to help a sister.”

Your ears perk up at that. That’s something you don’t expect, but it’s a welcome surprise, indeed.

“Men abusing their power over us is nothing new,” Suda remarks in a rather snide tone, but you expect nothing less when it comes to such subject matter. And of course Geto is involved. “I’d have liked to believe Geto was different in at least that regard.”

It’s a sad, but cold, hard, truth: men may swing their swords around and pound their chest like gigantic gorillas, but in reality, they’re as frail, weak, and vulnerable as chimps out in the wild. Geto isn’t removed from this fact; neither is Gojo. Neither is any other sorcerer who happens to have male anatomy.

In the end, it’s their most fatal flaw.

At least Suda understands that as well as you do.

“Why work for him, then?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

She shrugs, staring off into the distance. “Good living, I guess. Better than the dump I came from where guys would harass me all the time. He doesn’t come near me. Not like that. Just expects me to organize this circus of his.”

She gestures to the general area of the temple. Well, she’s not entirely wrong in that department—it’s decent living. Never mind the fact that her boss is a raging lunatic which apparently she’s more than aware of herself.

You tilt your head, processing the newfound information like it’s a software update. Interesting.

So even Geto’s goons know he’s not all that, either? Then what the hell are people doing here, other than for the good pay? Just for the shits and giggles? Maybe there’s got to be some other things they might benefit from in aiding a maniac like him…

“And I guess some things, I owe to Geto,” she finishes while adjusting flyaways in her hair after a gush of wind rushes by. Ah. There it is—a sense of obligation then. “But this can be between us. Even if you’re not like me, you’re still a woman.”

She doesn’t need to finish that statement. You fill in the blanks yourself. Women protect other women, and that’s that.

Even if Suda is ultimately loyal to Geto and whatever this vision of his is—it still doesn’t really add up to you, but then again, as Geto and Gojo love to preach to you, these are matters far above your scope of understanding.

“Thank you,” you murmur as a little smile plays on your lips. This is the most hopeful you’ve been since this whole thing went down, and knowing someone has your back is good enough for you for that very moment.

“Besides,” she adds, resting her clenched fists on her hips. “You being here just isn’t right, anyway. Whatever Geto wants with you, it’s for his personal gain, ultimately. I probably shouldn’t question him, but he does make a lot of questionable choices.”

Your mind flashes to when Miguel tells you something similar.

You flash her another smile. She manages a small one herself before her mask comes back full force. She strolls over to one of the benches and takes a seat, crossing one leg over the other as you both wait for Geto to return. This time, the silence is a little comforting. You fiddle with some of the remaining food on your plate, finally feeling some semblance of relief wash over you because maybe, maybe, you have fnially found your ticket out of there.

Geto finally returns, moments later, that displeased look still etched on his face as he tuts at the current situation to Suda.

“Rich men can be so foul,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “Not including certain people, of course.”

You know who he means.

“What did you do with him, Master Geto?” Suda dares to ask as she rises to her feet, hugging her clipboard to her chest as she maintains an air of a professional secretary. She can flip that on and off; it reminds you much of yourself when you were still working at that bakery that had since gone out of business for obvious reasons. All workers and customers mysteriously dead, you going missing as a result. You are also presumed dead or missing to the public. That can’t look good for someone’s business if they want it to skyrocket.

“I let his curse do away with him,” he answers smoothly with a dismissive wave of his hand over his head. “If that’s all, Suda, I’d like to be alone with her now.”

Suda gives a curt nod before twisting on her heel and sauntering off. Thus far, Geto has no suspicions with you or her, but you stay on your guard nevertheless. Geto always has something up his sleeve.

Once you’re left alone with him, Geto glances down at you with a mysterious smile. You ignore the fear pricking at your insides like toxic barbs. Your hand rests on your stomach as you will yourself to relax. You have backup. You have an ally. That should have you rejoicing and dancing in glee but instead you’re still coiling every time Geto so much as glances at you?

Yet you can’t find yourself faulting yourself for that either. The man is goddamn terrifying in his own right, and he has full control over you.

But not for much longer. You just need to hold on, for just a little longer. You have already settled on having to play the long game here. Don’t get discouraged.

“Now with that interruption out of the way…” He returns to his spot next to you. “Where were we?”

“Watching the sunset,” you reply as he tries to inch himself closer to you.

Fight back. Any way you can. You remind yourself. You force down any and all emotions combating against each other in your head. They quiet down the moment you try. You try to imagine something more peaceful and serene than something like this—anything else sounds good right then. A nice trip to Paris, far away from a country where Geto and Gojo resides, enjoying a baguette and hot chocolate while someone serenades you with a violin performance.

Anything is better than this. Anything. You can’t believe how your life has gotten to this point.

Frowning, Geto glances up at the sky. The sun has just begun to set, just a blinding, shining gold glob amid a pink and blue sky.

“It is a lovely sight,” he muses, before his gaze flits back to you. “But nothing beats the sight I have right here, beside me. You truly are a work of art, my dear.”

Ah. More pretty lies. That seems to come as natural as breathing to him.

You know better than to fall for anything he says or does. They never align.

The picnic continues in a tense silence. You do appreciate the pastries he picked up for you, helping yourself to that brookie you’ve been eying for a while. Geto just watches you, content just being next to you. He doesn’t try to touch you again, which you thank the stars above for, but that’s going to be short-lived the moment you go back to the bedroom with him. He can’t control himself for all that long.

After the sun fully sets beyond the horizon, Geto gathers the items and retires with you back to bed. Instead of his servants attending to you in the restroom, he decided to take their place, preparing the shower while attending to his own business. He ties his hair long, flowy hair up in a bun as he changes into a pair of silk indigo pajamas.

You slip out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your frame and he approaches you with a bottle of lotion.

“May I?” he requests with that same, dangerous smile that you know it best not to anger.

You’re not allowed to refuse.

You settle onto the edge of the tub connecting to the shower, removing your towel and allowing it to slip to the marble tiled floor. Geto starts massaging the lotion into your shoulders, slowly and softly moving down your back.

“Soft,” he praises in a little whisper, pinching a little area. You wince.

“Am I doing a good job, Mamma?” he purrs into your ear as he moves to your arms and to your breasts and stomach.

“Yes, darling, you’re doing so good, taking care of me.”

Such lies feel like toxic barbs piercing your skin.

“Does that mean I get a reward?” he asks, swirling his tongue around a nipple. Your breath hitches.

“No,” you bite your lip, grimacing at what you’re about to say next: “Good boys are supposed to do what they’re told.”

“Then what else must I do, Mamma?”

He flicks the tip of his tongue around the stiff bud, making your throat tighten. Your hands grip the edge of the tub. His hands snake up your meaty inner thighs as they stretch apart, his palms resting just before your intimates. Slender, calloused fingers brush against your skin, inching closer and closer to your nethers where he has already lubed up. Two fingers tease your outer lips, pressing them together and from the corner of your eye you see his toothy, pleased smirk as he pries your lower lips apart. The cold air hits your sensitive skin and you hiss, tightening your grip on the edge of the tub until your knuckled whiten. Your legs begin to tremble, and he gasps in delight, falling to his knees on the ground and marveling at the sight of your flushed pussy glistening in a light coat of your arousal.

He licks his lips, leaving his tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth as a finger easily slides into your entrance. A shaky gasp leaves your parted lips.

His finger sucks itself inside your pussy up to its knuckle. He coos as you wriggle a bit in your place.

“Shall we take this somewhere else more comfortable, Mamma?” he grunts, dipping another finger inside with a purr. “Let me get you to come once and then we can take it back to the bedroom.”

He steadies you, using his free arm snaking around your waist as he picks up a faster pace. Gentle pumps but his speed picks up each time. He groans at the feeling of your walls closing around his fingers, desperate to suck him in further, and you clench your teeth, failing to conceal your desperate whines and gasps as you can feel something inside rising, rising, rising…

“Come for me, Mamma,” he grunts, “Aren’t I being so good for you? I can always be this good. I want my Mamma to be happy with me.”

Your orgasm comes like a tight thunder clap, seeing setars behind your eyes, and you gasp out, panting as your body comes down from that high. He lets out a satisfied, arrogant little huff at his handiwork before scooping up your naked form into his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom and resting you on the plush mattress.

“Good,” he praises with a low, sultry purr as he gazes at you with that smoldering look in his eyes. His violet eyes glint with mischief and ulterior motives as he pries your legs apart, keeping them spread for him as his fingers toy with your soaked, flushed folds. “So good for me, Mamma. I just want to make you feel good.”

You shut your eyes, wishing this would end but it doesn’t seem like the torment ever does for you anymore. The minute you feel his lips kiss up either of your thighs and it’s over. He takes and takes and takes; it doesn’t matter.

You just need to hold on. Just for a little longer.

Just hold on for a little longer.

In the following few days, Geto tries to be a little more considerate of your needs. You know it’s not going to last long like all of the other times he let his desires take over, but you still are going to take advantage of the time he allows you to breathe. You’re found in the common room with the twins as they engage in a handful of classic board games. It’s a rainy day and they find they’ve grown tired of video games and want to give themselves a little detox from electronics (apart from some special condition for Nanako, which you’re a little confused about). Geto is more than happy to entertain this and watches with fondness in his eyes as Nanako bests Mimiko in another Chess match.

You are seated on the couch next to him, observing the sight yourself. You don’t have much to do in these situations—you have tired the magazines stacked under the low coffee table, and you haven’t the attention span to try out one of Geto’s long-spanning epic fantasy series. You’re running out of things that might stimulate your mind for the better, and you don’t like the sound of it. There’s only so much you can do in a situation where much of your agency has been taken away from you.

You have come to realize the longer you’re here the more time no longer matters. All that matters is just trying to find that opening, which you already have some semblance of when Suda dropped that bomb on you the other day. You just have to find another opening.

Geto calls your name and you’re ripped out of your thoughts. Somewhere you’d rather be than in the present moment.

“Mimiko was asking if you wanted to play a round of Chess with her,” he tells you, “You look a little bored.”

Yeah. Painfully, you think to yourself. It does kind of get old being your sex doll when it’s just us and then some weird nanny for your girls.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be a challenging opponent, but sure,” you reply as you take a seat by Nanako, who peers at you with a gleeful smile on her face.

“I can always sneak ya a few hints,” she giggles, “Mimiko kind of sucks at Chess anyway…”

“Nanako, that’s rude,” Mimiko chides, her face etching an expression of irritation that oddly mirrors Geto’s. Guess they do pick up a bit after their adoptive father…

“Sorryyyyy but you know I’m right!” Nanako quips while clapping excitedly. Mimiko rolls her eyes as she resets the Chess board for a new game. You can’t help the little smile on your lips while watching the interaction.

Oh, they’re definitely sisters.

Geto has no problem watching over the three of you as you entertain them with a few rounds of Chess. The first time you play against Mimiko, you lose, more on purpose because you realize you remember how to play the game better than you thought. Then you alternate, going up against Nanako, who beats you fair and square. She is a natural at this game, for sure. Rinse, lather, repeat. You win some rounds (mostly against Mimiko). You lose a lot of rounds.

Getting back into classic board games does help alleviate the boredom a little. Afterward, Nanako and Mimiko switch to Jenga, a game you haven’t touched since your own childhood. It brings so many memories flooding back to you and suddenly you wonder why all of your dreams have been taken from you. As much as these girls deserve a functioning family, you want a functioning family of your own, not manufactured like this. Not when you have been taken away against your will. You try to silence these thoughts threatening to bubble forth, focusing on building the tower and not letting it topple over.

You shouldn’t let yourself topple over with your own raging thoughts, either.

“Mom?” Mimiko addresses you with a concerned look on her face.

You freeze. She…she really calls you that now, doesn’t she? How long has it been since you have been here now? You have lost track of time. After all, time here doesn’t matter for you. Not when you have gone through the same routine again and again and again. It’s madness.

“Yes, love?” you ask, trying to sound as motherly as you can because you can feel Geto’s cold stare searing into the back of your skull. You don’t want to anger him, and you don’t want to make them feel like they’re wrong in addressing you that way. It does feel wrong, to you, but that doesn’t matter. They don’t deserve to be in the middle of this.

“Are you happy with us?”

Your jaw drops for a moment but you close it immediately.

“What has you thinking about that?”

“We’re just wondering,” Nanako pipes in while nudging your shoulder. “You’ve been with us for over a year now! Crazy, right? So… does this mean you’re really going to stay with us? That you like Mr. Geto?”

“Do you like being here with us?” Mimiko adds onto the myriad of questions Nanako is bombarding you with and you don’t know how else to respond.

“I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” you lie with a smile. “I’m so happy to call you girls my daughters.”

“We love you, Mom,” Nanako says, pulling you in for a hug. Mimiko follows after.

“We love you,” Mimiko parrots.

“I love you both too.”

It’s another lie.

But one that won’t get you killed in the end.

The next time Satoru visits, they don’t go all that easy on you. As if they ever do regardless of what promises they spew out of their assholes for mouths.

Satoru’s handsy as usual, roughing up your breasts and biting everywhere on the sensitive skin and laughing every time you yelp or shriek from the sharpness of each bite. Geto wastes no time entering your pussy while Gojo explores every inch of your body, licking and kissing every area of exposed skin. Geto makes you come three timed before pulling himself out and disposing of that last condom while Gojo adjusts you, leading you to sit on his lap. You don’t even bother to try to wriggle or squirm because you’re no match for two grown men. Two grown men who possess abilities beyond your own comprehension. If you dare try, they may not hesitate to be meaner. Crueler.

“Ooooh, Princess, my pretty baby,” Tweedledum purrs into your ear. “You’re being so good today.”

Tweedledee behind you just hums as he approaches the two of you, vibrator in hand. “She knows we only want to take care of her, Satoru. She understands.”

This time, they still don’t insert both their dicks at once like they have entertained before, even teased and terrified you with before, but Satoru manages to squeeze a dildo alongside his cock while taking you in the ass and Geto rests a vibrator on your pussy at a moderate setting. It’s all to get you stretched out and perfect and ready to take them both in that damn hole or even in your pussy. Someday sometime soon but likely not today. They can’t stop thinking about it.

Even if Geto recognized your hesitation at first, he eventually caves to his own desires like he always does.

You cling onto Gojo’s shoulders, biting down hard on your lip because the stretch feels so wide with that mild burn yet it somehow doesn’t compare to the stretch you feel from Geto’s size by itself.

“Satoru,” you squawk like a bird and he just laughs, hand coming down to smack your ass before fondling one of those fatty cheeks of yours and making you whine again.

Geto pumps the dildo inside of you and Gojo pumps his cock in tandem. The vibrator on your pussy grinds against your clit and folds and you’re not sure you can take much more.

“Fuck, Suguru, she’s so tight,” he growls, low and guttural as he kisses into your neck, increasing his erratic pace and waiting for you to come so hard on his cock that your pussy splatters everywhere. His eyes roll back as he reclines his head onto the back of the couch; his grip around you tightens. Geto hasn’t stopped with his dextrous hands working both your dripping cunt and ass. Your juices splatter onto the ground and leave behind a large puddle beneath you. Geto slides the vibrator close to your entrance and you shout, your ass walls clenching around Gojo’s cock and the large pink dildo pumping inside you. It hurts, fuck it hurts, your head is spinning.

It’s too much. It’s too much. It’s too much. And they don’t care!

“You’re being so good for us, little dove,” Suguru purrs in approval. “Not making a fuss, letting us take care of you, because you know we’re only doing this so you can handle us, hm?”

“Y-yes,” you wheeze out, “I-I want to be good for you, Suguru…”

“Good,” he says as he switches off the vibrator. You’re relieved at first until he lines the tip of his protected cock to your entrance. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Then you’re ready for us both now.”

He chuckles darkly as he slips the head into your entrance, and you hide your face into Satoru’s chest, panting heavily. Geto has enough of a conscience to remove the dildo moving alongside Gojo’s still fully rigid, stiff cock as he fucks into your ass again.

Geto kisses into your shoulder and moans.

“You’re taking me better and better each time,” he drawls, taking his thumb to draw circles around your stiff clit as he keeps a gentler pace than Satoru does when entering you. While he still doesn’t shy away from taking what he wants, he still finds it in him to be a little kinder. Just a little. If you can call any of this kind.

“Satoru,” he calls, bringing the dildo that was just in your ass to Satoru’s lips. He opens up willingly, allowing Geto to fuck it into his mouth and get remnants of your taste off of that piece of silicone. Your heart twists in disgust from the act. You shouldn’t even be surprised anymore but they do everything to get each other off with you.

Gojo slobbers over that dildo like he probably does over Geto’s cock whenever it’s just them. Some of it even splatters onto your shoulder and Geto is ‘considerate’ enough to swipe it off with his thumb. When it’s the three of you, it seems more like a competitive game between them—see who can make you come more times, see who can make you come faster, see who can make you beg or scream or cry for mercy, etc. They’re not as interested in getting all over each other (though they still do, doting on each other to the point it makes your whole body shudder, riling each other up in any way they can).

The two come practically in unison but they don’t stop until you find yourself coming two, three more times.

But apparently, the torture is not ending there today after they slip their spent cocks out of you.

“Those nipple clamps last time sure were fun,” Gojo suggests while smacking his lips at the thought. “Your nipples were so hard. So perky and perfect. Just like the rest of you.”

As if to rub salt in the wound, Gojo traces his finger around one of your nipples before pinching it, making your breath hitch. You’re too tired to try to fight them off; it’s not like you ever win anyway.

“Satoru, what did I say about picking on her?” Geto scolds but his tone sounds more amused than ever angry. But you know later those fits of jealousy or rage come out at the most random of moments, and though you have known better than to try to initiate anything with Gojo again, Geto can easily twist any situation in his favor if it means he can justify his punishments. However he chooses to exact them on you.

But he never really hurts you. Not really, no.

Geto always just finds a way to repurpose his cruelty.

Gojo huddles you close to him, flashing yhou that irritating grin of his you wish you could rip straight off his face but you can’t fight two grown men. You’re helpless in these settings. And you’re so tired of being helpless.

But that doesn’t mean you still can’t find other ways to bend and shape this all to your advantage, however small.

“Suguru,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. “Need you.”

Satoru quirks an eyebrow at that. “What’s the matter, Princess? You tired of me?”

He can’t help but snuggle you closer into his bare chest and you drag out an impressed sigh. This is your chance; this is the only way you can get under their skin at all because you just have to remember their one fatal flaw.

“Satoru,” you murmur, “I thought you were nice. Suguru can be so much nicer than you.”

Satoru’s eyes flash at that and he almost looks pained by your rejection. “What? But baby…”

“You heard her, Satoru, so respect her wishes,” Suguru interjects with an icy stare as he scoops you up into his arms instead, casting a genuine smile at you, like he’s pleased with your submission. “She knows who best takes care of her. Don’t you think?”

You wish you could smirk yourself. No way are you ever going to truly submit to either of these pieces of shit.

Gojo scowls at his lover, before flashing a worried look at you. For some reason, he’s not buying this sudden shift, the sudden shift in preferences, but if he had half a working brain cell he’d understand that you favored neither.

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe Suguru’s actually been treating you better than I have, Princess,” he pouts while crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t we have something special, too?”

“Of course you both do,” Suguru interrupts again, then coos at you while you tuck your head into his shoulder with a faux look of love in your eyes. “But you remember the initial arrangement. She belongs to me, first and foremost, Satoru. All you are is part of the package.”

Gojo huffs at that. “Ugh, fine, you’re right about that, but come on, Princess, don’t you like me more?”

“I like you both just fine,” you mumble, “But right now Suguru’s being nice. You have been kind of mean lately Satoru.”

Suguru’s smile widens at that, nuzzling his face into yours before his lips smack against your cheek, and it’s an unsettling sight, indeed. You almost wonder if what you might encounter following this might be worse than if he decides to punish you for appearing to favor Satoru over him. The tension between the three of you builds with each passing second and you wonder if you should attempt to diffuse the situation but you have already dug your hole. You might as well keep digging until you find what you’re looking for.

Gojo lets out another petulant sound like the manchild he’s proven himself to be, far more so than Geto.

“I’m sorry about that, Princess. I’ll…I’ll work on it,” he replies, his lips still curled into that pathetic little pout as if he thinks that might do something for you.

However, it seems to for Geto, and that’s enough for you. Geto reaches over to Satoru and sympathetically pats him on the cheek.

“You promise to be a good boy next time you come back, Satoru, and she’ll warm up to you again,” he chucklse as he adjusts you in his arms. “You should probably head back now. Don’t you have to be in the countryside for your next mission?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, standing up and grabbing his clothes. He presses a kiss to the corner of Geto’s mouth. “Stop fucking hogging her.”

“I’m doing absolutely no such thing,” Geto counters with his lips quirking into a smirk.

Gojo only shakes his head as he disappears to clean himself up before leaving for that day. Geto mentions something in pasing about that mission likely lasting longer than usual, but you don’t really listen, shutting your eyes as Geto escorts you back to the main area of the temple.

[nunalastor]

Resident Evil 7 AU

In mini-fic response to anon's post about a certain someone arriving at the Hotel:

* Takes place after “Radio Killed The Video Star”*

*knock knock knock*

Charlie: *gasps, eyes sparkling* Oh, a new guest? And so soon after Sir Pentious!

Charlie: C o m i n g ~ *pulls the front door open* Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel… nobody?

Charlie: *looks left and right in confusion* Is this one of Angel’s pranks?

????: *small voice from below* Excuse me.

Charlie: *startles and looks down, eyes widening in shock* Oh!

Vaggie: *walking up behind her* Charlie, who’s at the door- *blinks in shock* Is- Is that a child?!

????: *a young girl stares up at them with large eyes (grey with black sclera) from behind a curtain of inky hair that hides half her face*

*Husk, Angel and Sir Pentious, gathered at the bar, all crane their necks to see past Vaggie at the source of the commotion*

Angel: Holy crap! That really is a kid!

Husk: *remembering his own family from back on earth* She can’t be any older than three… how on earth…?

Sir Pentious: *eyes welling up* I-Is she really a sinner? Poor thing…

Charlie: *recomposes herself, kneeling to look the young girl in the properly in the eyes* Sorry about that! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can we help you today? Are you looking for redemption?

????: I’m looking for my mommy.

Charlie: *heart overflowing in sympathy* Oh no…

Vaggie: You’ve gotten separated from your mother? How long have you been separated?

????: A very, very long time.

Vaggie: *to herself* She’s just a little kid… So that could mean anything from five minutes ago to five years ago… Oh God, what if her mother was lost during the last extermination?!

Charlie: *stands and offers a hand* Well, don’t you worry! We’ll help you find her!

????: *frowns at her hand, before taking it and following her inside*

Charlie: Do you like apple juice? Husk, do you have any juice behind the counter?

????: *shrugs indifferently, looking around the lobby, eyeing each person with a critical eye*

Charlie: *nods patiently, thanks Husk, and leads the girl to the lobby’s couch, pouring out glass*

Charlie: So, where did you did you last see your mommy?

????: I saw Mommy on the TV. The TV said he is here!

Charlie: The… TV said that… your mommy was here? Are you sure?

????: *nods firmly*

Charlie: *turns to her partner* Vaggie… do you…?

Vaggie: *rubs her forehead* Sorry, I don’t either. You don’t think Niffty-

Husk: *flatly* Absolutely not.

Charlie: *takes a deep breath* Okay, well, maybe Al will know-

Alastor: *calling from upstairs* What’s all this? Do we have a new guest?

????: *the moment that voice spoke, the ears that that had laid flat and unnoticed until now suddenly flick up, twitching restlessly*

Charlie: *flagging him down* Al, good timing, do you know- ah!

????: *jumps up from the couch, shaking and breathing heavily*

Charlie: *holding her hands up* Don’t be scared! Alastor works here! He won’t hurt you!

????: *doesn’t seem to hear her, stumbling slowly around the couch to where the Radio Demon is making his way down*

Alastor: *stops at the foot of the stairs, and tilts his head slightly, narrowing his eyes* You’re…

????: *stares at him for a long moment… before giggling*

Alastor: *his eyes widen in recognition, shoulders subtly tensing* Eveline.

Eveline: *gleefully* I finally found you, Mommy!

To be continued… maybe…

👀

[munson-blurbs]

Eddie x Henderson Cousin!Single Mom!Reader Collaboration with @corroded-hellfire 💚

Summary: After your mom kicks you out for having a baby, you move back to Hawkins to live with your cousin Dustin and Aunt Claudia. You've always been able to manage on your own, so when your childhood friend Eddie offers to help, it isn't easy to let someone take care of you.

WC: 4.8k

A/N: This was requested by our amazing friend and fellow sister wife, @b-irock! We hope we did it justice.

Also, Reader's race/ethnicity is never mentioned or described. Though she is Henderson Cousin!Reader, she can be interpreted as either a biological or adopted cousin.

--

Hawkins, Indiana: 1976

You’re standing underneath the monkey bars, hoisting your five-year-old cousin so his chubby hands can grab on to them. 

“C’mon, Dusty! You can do it!” You cheer him on. “Just put one hand in front of the other; I’ve got your feet.”

Sure enough, he grunts and grumbles, but little Dustin eventually makes his way across the equipment while you grip his dangling legs. 

“I did it! I did the monkey bars!” He cheers when he reaches the other side. “Can we do it again?”

You’re about to begrudgingly agree when you hear commotion from across the playground. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the sandbox, where a curly-haired boy sitting with a shovel and a castle-shaped bucket; a blonde boy, smaller than him, stands intimidatingly over him. 

“Jason, stop!” The curly-haired kid calls out. 

The blonde kid—Jason, you surmise—simply sneers. “Jason, stop!” he taunts, voice absurdly high-pitched. He laughs when the other boy’s lower lip wobbles. “What’s the matter, Freak? You gonna go cry to your mommy—sorry, your uncle?” And with that, Jason steps on the castle, crushing it beneath his sneakered foot. 

You bring Dustin back to the ground before marching over to the scene of the squabble. “What are you doing?” you demand to know, staring right at Jason and crossing your arms over your chest. 

Jason doesn’t answer, posing a question of his own. “Who are you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you bite back. “You must be really boring if you have to spend your time picking on people, huh?” Before he can respond, you take a few more steps towards him. “Here, let me make things more exciting for you.” You pull back your leg, kicking up a spray of sand into his blue eyes with a triumphant smirk.  

Jason howls, crying as soon as he feels the tiny granules hit his face. “Owww!” he blubbers, fat tears streaming down his cheeks. He tries to run away, but his eyes are still closed, so he trips and falls over the edge of the sandbox.

“Now look who’s crying for his mommy!” You call out as he picks himself up and traipses across the grass. You can hear the other kid giggle, and you turn back to him. “You okay?”

He nods. “Yeah, ‘m okay now.” He picks up his shovel and starts digging again. “I’m Eddie. Y’wanna play with me?”

You introduce yourself and gladly accept his invitation, calling your cousin over so he can join. Eddie doesn’t seem the least bit upset about playing with a five-year-old; he spends most of the time crafting elaborate stories about the brave knights and dragons guards that live in the castles he’s building. The three of you play until the sun begins to set, signaling that it’s time to return home. 

“Come back tomorrow and we can keep playing, okay?” Eddie says as you all part ways. 

“We’ll be here!”

That’s how you made your first friend in Hawkins. 

Not only did you come back the next day, but you went to the park as often as you could to play with Eddie. Sometimes Dustin would join you or sometimes you’d just ride to the park on your bike yourself. After the fifth time the two of you had spent playing in the sandbox and on the playground, Eddie comes up with a question for you.

“Every time you come here you have pigtails. Why?”

“Huh?” You frown and turn your head from side to side as if that would give you a better view of the hair on the sides of your head. “Oh, I dunno. They’re easy and they keep my hair out of the way while we play.”

“I’m gonna call you Pigtails,” Eddie tells you, a proud smile on his cherubic face. 

“I’m still gonna call you Eddie.”

Eddie laughs and there’s a buzzy feeling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before. 

You became great friends with Eddie. Not just at the park, but you started biking to one another’s houses, eating lunch together at school, and even having pretend adventures in the lush woods of Hawkins. But one day when you were thirteen, you had to tell Eddie that you were moving away because your parents are getting a divorce. He was sympathetic to the pain you were going through, but devastated at the fact that you wouldn’t be there for him to spend time with anymore. His favorite part of the day is seeing you and he feels like it’s being ripped away from him like a stubborn sticky bandaid. 

Your new town wasn’t a bad place to live. You had nice neighbors, made friends easily at school, and noticed how much happier your mom was. But there was no Eddie. 

Hawkins, Indiana: 1986

Ten years later, Hawkins becomes your home again. Having your mom and stepdad kick you out of the house wasn’t great, but you didn’t want to be there if they were going to treat you like shit anyway. Just because you have a son now, they’ve decided they want nothing to do with you.

“What will people say?” Your mom often wondered aloud. As if strangers' comments mean more to her than her own daughter and grandson. 

Hawkins is a better environment to raise Jett up in, anyway. Better schools, nicer town, friendlier people. Plus, it’s where your favorite aunt and cousin still live. Aunt Claudia welcomed you to come live with them with open arms. She was nothing but loving and kind and gracious. Dustin was excited to have a baby around—he’d never really interacted with any before. Your younger cousin, after making sure you knew he was truly psyched about you both coming to live with him, asked why you weren’t going to live with Jett’s father, though. You know it’s just an innocent question. Curiosity always gets the better of Dustin. It’s hard to think about, but you told him the truth; Byron is a total douche and wants nothing to do with having a son. 

You’re sitting in the rocking chair, feeding Jett his afternoon bottle, when there’s a knock at the door. Dustin’s on the phone with his long-distance girlfriend, Suzie, and Aunt Claudia’s at work, so it’s up to you to answer it. You throw the burp cloth over your shoulder and adjust your son so that his head is fully supported in the crook of your elbow. 

Peering through the peephole, you see a tall, lanky man standing in front of the door. He’s got a shopping bag in one hand and he’s tapping his Reebok-clad foot against the floor. 

His hair is much longer than the last time you saw him, and a five o’clock shadow covers his cheeks, but you’d still recognize him anywhere. 

“Eddie?!” you ask excitedly as you use your free hand to open the door. Despite your exhaustion, a huge grin tugs at your lips. 

His soft brown eyes light up. “Holy shit, Pigtails! Dustin told me you were coming back, but I didn’t realize you were already here” He looks down at the blanket-swaddled bundle in your arms. “Is this…”

You nod. “This hungry little guy is Jett Henderson,” you announce proudly, bouncing gently to keep your son in good spirits. “Named after the badass Joan Jett, of course.”

“Grunge girl, huh?” Eddie cocks his brow and smiles, offering Jett his ringed pinky, which he readily grips on to. “Hold on, I have something in my van for you.”

Before you can ask questions, he’s bolting out to his car, returning with something clutched in his hand. “Sorry, I didn’t get to wrap it…” he mumbles, but you just shake your head and take it from him. 

It’s a tiny onesie, the white Metallica logo printed on black cotton. You feel your eyes well up with tears, already overcome with emotion at the sight of your old friend, and now he brings you a gift?

“This is…you didn’t have to…” you choke out. You lightly bounce Jett, though you’re not entirely sure whether you’re comforting him or yourself. 

“‘Course.” Eddie smiles, letting the baby hold his finger again as he muses, “I can’t believe my Pigtails is a mom.”

My Pigtails. The descriptor in front of your nickname makes all the difference, though you try not to let it show. 

“Eddie! You’re here! Did you bring the DM—” Dustin loudly calls from behind you, startling both you and Jett. Your baby boy immediately starts wailing; it’s quite an impressive feat for someone with such tiny lungs. Dustin cringes when he realizes his mistake. “Shit, I’m sorry—”

You shake your head “‘S okay,” you mumble, speed walking towards the spare room you and Jett share to try and stop his cries. It most certainly is not okay, but you don’t want your cousin to feel guilty. He and Aunt Claudia have already helped so much by taking you in. The last thing you need is to alienate them. 

There’s a gentle rap at the door, and you murmur, “Come in.” You assume it’s Dustin, but Eddie stands there instead. 

“Hey, Pigtails? And Jett?” he starts timidly, looking at the screaming infant in your arms. “Would you both wanna hang out tomorrow? Go to the playground or somethin’?”

No, you want to shout. No, we don’t need your pity; we’re doing fine, just the two of us. But there’s a hopeful look in Eddie’s bright eyes that makes him impossible to refuse. “Y-Yeah, sure. Ten o’clock?”

Eddie furrows his brow. “Kinda late for a baby to be awake, right? Plus, those no-good teenagers always cause mischief at night in that park.”

You laugh. “Ten o’clock in the morning,” you tell him. “Think you can get up that early?”

“For you two? Of course.”

Eddie knocks on the door at 9:45. You’ve been up for hours by this point, but from Eddie’s bleary eyes and the coffee cup clutched in his hand, you’d venture that he hadn’t been awake all that long.

“Good morning, stranger,” you greet him. “Look at you up and about before the crack of noon.”

“I’d flip you off if I couldn’t see that I’m being watched by an infant.” Eddie nods his head behind you and you look over your shoulder to see Jett in his baby swing, swaying gently from side to side as he watches Eddie with eyes more alert than your friend’s. 

“Yeah, and he’s a snitch,” you say, turning back to face Eddie. “He’ll rat ya out first chance he gets.”

“I’ll have to stay on his good side then.”

“What’s up, Eds?” You side step so Eddie can come inside, which he does as he takes the last swig of his coffee. 

“Thought I’d come by and give you guys a ride to the park,” he says.

There’s a giggle on the tip of your tongue and you have to bite your lip to keep a smile at bay. Eddie has always been one of the sweetest people you know. It’s no surprise that he was thoughtful enough to pick you and Jett up. There was just one little problem.

“I really appreciate that, Eddie.” You pick your keys up off of the counter and toss them to the sleepy man. He manages to catch them despite fumbling them twice. “But you’ll have to give us a ride in my car because I don’t think your van has the appropriate equipment to secure a car seat to.”

Eddie hangs his head, making some of his curls sway from side to side. Now, you do let out that giggle. With a sigh, Eddie picks his head back up.

“Duh. Gotta make sure your mini me is safe.”

“My mini me?” you ask as you unbuckle Jett from his swing. He whines in protest, his swing being his favorite thing in the world. But once you begin to walk, the calming motions quiet him again. 

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “He looks just like you. Look at him, he’s gorgeous.”

You’re not sure if Eddie realizes what he implied or not, so you don’t say anything, just hum to yourself as you slip the strap of Jett’s diaper bag over your shoulder.

“Here, let me get that.” Eddie swoops in and takes the bulky bag from you, hefting it onto his own shoulder. “Christ, what the hell did you put in here? Rocks?”

“Diapers, wipes, spare clothes, bottles, burping cloths, pacifiers—”

“Jesus,” Eddie cuts you off. “That’s more than I’d need for a week’s vacation.”

“Not all of us can turn our underwear inside out and wear them for a second day, Eddie.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, exasperation dripping in his tone. “You’re never going to let that go, are you? I was eleven and I didn’t bring enough pairs on the camping trip. I regret ever telling you that.”

You let out a giggle that has Eddie practically swooning as you reach your car. The gentleman that he is, Eddie opens the back door for you so you can situate Jett in his seat. In a less gentlemanly fashion, he stares at your ass as you’re bent over into the car. 

The drive to the park is quick, even with Eddie “slowing down” because there’s precious cargo in the car. It’s still faster than you would’ve gone, but it was a definite improvement for him. The park is mostly empty when you arrive. A few ladies are speed walking in velour tracksuits, there’s a dad trying to help his son fly a kite, and there are two other parents with their small children on the playground. The sun is bright so you slip a little ball cap on your son. It’s one Dustin bought for him, a perfect miniature version of one of the many hats he wore over his curly locks. 

“Have you ever brought him here before?” Eddie asks as the two of you make your way towards the swings. 

“No. He hasn’t seen a whole lot of Hawkins, to be honest.”

“You’re not missing much, buddy,” Eddie tells him. 

There are two baby seats on the long swing set and you tuck Jett into one with his blue and white blanket around him for extra cushion and protection. Your son looks up at you with what you take to be an unimpressed glare. 

“Don’t look at me all grumpy, mister,” you say to him. “You don’t even know what these things can do.”

Jett lets a few drool bubbles spew from his mouth in response. Eddie chuckles as you playfully roll your eyes at the boy. Jett slides his stare from you to Eddie, and it seems like he locks in on your friend. Eddie gives him a little wave, but the infant just keeps on staring.

“Maybe he likes my hair,” Eddie suggests.

“Maybe he just likes you. Hard to imagine, I know,” you tease. Eddie starts to make silly faces at your son, and a smile tugs up the corners of his little precious mouth. Jett seems enamored with Eddie and you can hardly say you blame him. “Do you want to push him, Eddie?”

“Huh?” Eddie ceases his goofy faces and looks back at you.

“The swing,” you say, gesturing towards your son in the seat. “Do you want to push him?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. As long as you don’t mind.”

“I’m the one who suggested it,” you remind him with a playful smirk. He gives you a teasing shove before walking behind the swing set. 

It’s the most apprehensive you can ever remember seeing Eddie. The concentration on his face makes it look like he’s doing the physics in his head of how hard he should push the swing based on Jett’s body weight and the current speed of the wind. Finally, he gives the swing a small push and your son begins to rock back and forth.

Jett looks a little alarmed to be moving at first, but he quickly realizes this is the same sensation as his swing at home, just front and back instead of side to side. It makes you strangely emotional to watch Eddie push your baby on the swings. It’s a surreal thing. Sometimes it seems like you had two lives; one before you left Hawkins and one after. This is the collision of those two worlds—and the very best parts of those respective worlds, too. 

“Does he like it?” Eddie asks you.

“Jett,” you say, bending down to be closer to his eye level. “Are you enjoying yourself? Is Eddie doing a good job? Or do you want me to fire him?”

“Ha ha, you’re so fucking funny,” Eddie deadpans.

“Hey,” you tease with a smile. “Watch your goddamn language around my kid, you motherfucker.”

Well shit, you think to yourself. I want him to be a motherfucker if the mother he’s fucking is me. 

“You hear the mouth on your mom, Jett?” Eddie asks. “You’d think she grew up with some trailer park trash kid as one of her best friends.”

“Hey,” you say, tone turning serious. “You’re not—”

“I know,” Eddie cuts you off, giving you a shit eating grin. “Just wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“Like the time you told me that Shaun Cassidy was quitting music for good and almost gave me a heart attack?”

“Exactly like that.” The devious smile on his face should be annoying, but it’s somehow sexy. “I hope you have some better taste in music now.”

“Oh yeah, my taste in music has definitely matured. Once you become a mom, you automatically start loving all the oldies. That’s something they never tell ya about until you get pregnant.”

“I’ll loan you Wayne’s Elvis records,” Eddie quips.

“You assume I don’t already have my own,” you joke. 

“Jesus,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I’m the only hope poor Jett has at growing up with a sense of what good music is.” 

“Do not infect my child with Metallica.” You like Metallica, but wanting to get a rise out of one another isn’t a trait exclusive to Eddie. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie tells Jett as he gives him another push. “I got your back, kid.”

Eddie’s offer to have Jett’s back is put to the test on the ride home. The little boy is less than enthused to leave the playground and, combined with his missed naptime, begins wailing at the top of his lungs as soon as he’s buckled into his carseat. 

“‘M sorry,” you mumble, trying to maneuver the straps around Jett’s shoulders as he writhes and wriggles. “It’s okay, baby. I know, you’re so sad, but it’s okay.” Though you keep your voice as even as possible, you might as well be shouting with the way he’s screeching. 

“Let me try something,” Eddie says, crouching down so he’s at Jett’s level. He clears his throat and begins to sing. 

Baby, let me be

Your lovin’ teddy bear

Put a chain around my neck

And lead me anywhere

Oh, let me be…your teddy bear

Jett’s cries stall a bit, though his sniffles are like aftershocks rippling through his body. 

“Keep going,” you whisper, and Eddie nods. 

I don’t wanna be a tiger

Because tigers play too rough

I don’t wanna be a lion

Cause lions ain’t the kind you love enough

At the last line, he reaches out and tickles Jett’s pudgy tummy, and your heart soars with relief as your son giggles. 

“Y’like when I sing, huh?” Eddie laughs along with him, standing up and facing you with a grin. “Another point for Team Eddie.”

You muster up a smile and slide into the passenger seat while Eddie starts the car. Why was it so easy for him to calm Jett down, but it takes me forever? Am I a bad mom? The thought gnaws at you the whole ride home, and when Eddie drops you back off, you grab Jett and dash through the front door before the tears can fall. 

The next day, Eddie approaches your front door hesitantly. Yesterday when he’d come by, you were in a good mood and eager to head to the park. But after the way you left the car with Jett and didn’t say two words to him before going into the house, Eddie’s not too sure what’s going on. He pokes the doorbell with a ring-clad finger and waits as he hears shuffling footsteps on the other side.

“Oh, hi, Eddie.” 

His relief was palpable when you don’t seem upset at him for anything, but he’s as equally concerned because he’s sure he’s never seen you this disheveled before. Hair pulled back from your face, an oversized t-shirt and some sweatpants, and large dark circles under your eyes. To him, you still look absolutely beautiful, but he is also aware that these are signals of exhaustion. 

“Christ, Pigtails. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks, Munson,” you mumble. “You really know how to flatter a girl.”

Eddie shakes his head as you step aside to let him in. He’s about to tell you that’s not what he meant, but despite your tiredness, there’s a playful glint in your eye that lets him know you’re just teasing him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “Here, give me Jett so you can go nap. Is he in his swing?”

“No, m’fine, Eds.” You take a step forward but your body decides to be a traitor and show just how exhausted you are by having your knee buckle. Eddie’s right there to catch you, gripping you tightly and righting you on your feet.

“You were saying?” Eddie strolls over to where your son is laying on his playmat on the floor, legs kicking in excitement when he sees him. Carefully, Eddie picks up the baby and holds him against his chest. “Come on, Pigtails, you need to rest. Jett looks pretty eager to spend time with his favorite uncle anyway.” As if trying to prove, or disprove his point—Eddie isn’t sure which it is—Jett dribbles some drool on the shoulder of Eddie’s gray Iron Maiden tee. 

You want to protest further, but you don’t have the energy for it. “Fine. Only let me sleep for half an hour, okay? And if he starts crying or making a fuss, wake me up.”

“I’ve got it taken care of,” Eddie assures you. “Don’t worry.”

The words do nothing to calm your nerves more than telling someone to stop crying would make their waterworks cease. 

“Have you ever watched a baby before?” you ask. 

Eddie tilts his head from side to side, as if considering your question. “Well, no, but I watch over Dustin and his friends all the time and I think that’s prepped me for any possible scenario here.” 

“Well,” you say with a sigh, running one hand over your face. “I let Mike watch him while I ran to the neighbor’s house yesterday, and that scared me more than this does. Just don’t be afraid to wake me up, okay? Even if you think it’s something stupid.”

“We’ll be fine,” Eddie assures you, smacking a wet kiss to Jett’s cheek. “Go ahead, Jett—tell Mommy that we’ve got it all under control.” Jett, of course, says nothing, and Eddie shrugs. “He, uh, pleads the fifth, I guess. Seriously, go rest.”

“Thirty minutes,” you sternly remind him, and he gives you a little salute as you walk to your room. All of your nerves are swimming in your stomach; it feels wrong not to have your baby right by your side. What’s left of your rational brain reminds you that Eddie is capable of watching him, and he’ll wake you up if there’s an emergency. The sleepiness overtakes you. Just half an hour, you reassure yourself, feeling your eyelids grow heavy, your exhausted body sinking into the mattress…

When you open your eyes again, you feel refreshed. Too refreshed for a measly thirty minute rest. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when your glimpse of the clock informs you that you’d been asleep for over two hours. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” you grumble, wiping the sleep from your vision. Why didn’t Eddie wake me up? you silently wonder as you pad towards your door. Oh my God, did something happen to Jett? Is he hurt? Sick? Are they at the hospital? Why wouldn’t he tell me if something was wrong?

You’re about to call out his name when you spot something on the floor. It’s a trail of Polaroid photos leading out to living room. The first one shows Jett grinning at the camera, orange baby food smeared over his face. The caption at the bottom reads, “Don’t worry, Mama! Eddie’s got this!” 

The next one is just Eddie in his black Metallica shirt, arm outstretched to take the photo, and Jett in his matching onesie. Then there’s Jett with his hand in a gigantic bowl of popcorn—bigger than him—with the TV remote laying on the other side of him. 

Eddie and Jett are having a staring contest in the following picture; Eddie’s deep concentration is juxtaposed by Jett’s absolute cluelessness. “Baby’s first staring contest—he won” is written in Eddie’s messy scrawl. There’s a few more of Eddie mimicking your son’s adorable facial expressions, though your favorite is when they’re both showing off a wide, open-mouthed smile. 

You pick up another one; it’s your son wearing Dustin’s Camp Know Where hat, D&D manuals strewn around him. “Planning the next sadistic campaign for Uncle Dusty.” Then another from your cousin’s room where Jett is sitting on his cluttered floor, lightsaber in hand. 

Jett wearing sunglasses. Jett with a battered copy of The Hobbit—probably Eddie’s own copy—opening it and looking at it as though he’s actually reading. Jett’s hands tangled in Eddie’s curls while he grimaces to pretend that it hurts (at least, you hope he’s pretending; your son has an iron grip these days). Jett holding a pen to Eddie’s arm mid-scribble, as if he’s giving him another tattoo. This one is right above the litter of bats, and you have a feeling the newest addition is Eddie’s favorite. 

The last Polaroid before you reach the living room is of Jett sitting in the driver’s seat of Eddie’s van with his hands on the steering wheel. “Ready to hit the road!” You giggle, tears welling in your eyes at the relief that Jett is okay and from the sheer joy of seeing him so happy. 

The sound of Eddie talking to Jett interrupts your thoughts, and you crane your neck to listen. 

“And then she totally kicked sand in that little punk’s eyes! It was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.” He pauses and clears his throat. “Shit, don’t say ‘ass.’ And don’t say ‘shit.’ But, anyway, she’s always looked out for the people she cares about. I’m not surprised that she’s basically the world’s best mom. Pretty cute, too. Always kinda had a little crush on her.” He whispers that last part, but you still hear it. 

Slowly, as not to interrupt their moment, you ease your way into the living room from the hall. Jett’s the first one to see you, over Eddie’s shoulder, and his face lights up in glee. It’ll never get old to you how excited your son gets just by seeing your face. Eddie looks over his shoulder to see what the baby is looking at, but does a double take when he sees you standing there.

“O-Oh,” he stutters. “Hey, you’re awake. How was your, uh, nap?” There’s a pink tinge to his cheeks as he stands up, hoisting Jett up onto his hip. 

“Was good,” you say. “Longer than a half hour, though.” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him as you walk forward to scoop your son out of his arms. 

“Sorry, I just thought—”

“No, it’s okay,” you assure him. “I saw your little photo shoot. Looks like you two had fun together.” Jett babbles happily in your arms as you bring him over to his playpen. All of his favorite toys are in there so he should be fine on his own for a few moments. 

“We had lots of fun, didn’t we Jett?”

The words barely leave his mouth before your lips are on his. Eddie’s stiff against your skin, clearly not having expected it. It’s not long before he sinks into it though; cupping your cheeks in his hands and deepening the kiss. 

When you pull away for air, Eddie rests his forehead against yours. You take the moment to notice how beautiful he is this close up. The freckles, his dark eyelashes, his dimples. He’s just as beautiful as when you first developed a crush on him all those years ago.

“It’s always been you, Eds,” you speak softly against his mouth. The grin that grows on Eddie’s face is euphoric and more than a little contagious. 

“Pigtails, I’ve been waiting ten years to hear you say that.” 

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