#i will probably need to just allow myself to respond to some of it on potentially a multi-week delay. so thats what we're doing

[unopenablebox]

entrelac chuppah anon again: it was knit entirely in white, per my friends' preferences, though the thought of a multicolored version is intriguing! i used the forest path stole pattern by faina letoutchaia modified to be chuppah-sized. obviously An Endeavor though i built in lots of breaks but a fun project overall and they plan to display it in their living room forever which delights me. so, a positive review of the chuppah knitting experience if you end up going that route!

thank you for this additional information! this thing is incredibly lovely and i can immediately see why you used it, that's a gorgeous pattern for a chuppah. you are NOT helping my commitment to not do this

[lunar-fey]

oh yeah not sure where we're at w money btw. we might be able to get some of it back but we wont know anything concrete until friday

[johndonneswife]

what they don’t tell you about instagram is that you’ll have 50 DMs to reply to, and after weeks of anxiously avoiding them you finally look and read and reply to everyone - and then people just start replying to you. AGAIN. immediately, even. and then you have 50 unread DMs again. so you anxiously avoid looking at them for weeks/months and then you finally bite the bullet and reply to people again…and they answer you within 5 minutes. again. and you just perpetually have 50 unread messages on instagram. and then at some point, you die.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Sink or Swim (NSFW)

AN: Joe girlies I have returned!

Synopsis: After the devastating loss to the Commanders, you knew that a bad mood would be evident with your boyfriend. So his idea of forgetting what happened at least for a few hours has to do with giving you his undivided attention

Requested by @a-moment-captured 💕

DO NOT ENGAGE IF UNDERAGE

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

There was a look of disbelief on your face as you watched the scene unfold in front of you and saw that the game was almost over when the two minute warning was indicated. The first two weeks in the season obviously had your boyfriend Joe upset and for good reason. But to see the high hopes that he had going into week three just get shot down hurt to watch.

On the sidelines you could see his helmet being thrown as he eventually sat down and the expression on his face was one that you couldn't quite read.

Pulling out your phone, you sent him a quick text knowing that he would read it when he got back to the locker room.

You- Still so proud of you bubs. You played amazing tonight and don't let anyone tell you otherwise 💕

Sighing to yourself, you stood up and began to make your exit out of the stadium to start making your way back to Joe’s condo. It was discussed earlier in the day when you had talked to Joe that you would come over right after the game in anticipation of celebrating with him, but now you weren't so sure if he would even want to be in the mood to have anyone around him right now. After he lost a game, he would understandably get into a mood but you had a feeling that tonight would be a lot worse and more than likely because of who he is, he would be blaming himself.

Climbing into your jeep, you had the radio on a low volume as you pulled out of the stadium parking lot and onto the highway. Joe didn't live very far from the stadium which you were thankful for and leaving before the game was over allowed you to beat some of the traffic that you knew would quickly come after.

Arriving in less than twenty minutes, you turned your car off before grabbing your bag and making your way inside. Your shoes got slipped off at the door as you made your way into the kitchen to find something to snack on since the mozzarella sticks you had at the game were only going to last you but so long.

Glancing at the clock, you noticed it wasn't too late to order a pizza seeing as Joe probably needed some comfort food. You opened up your DoorDash app and quickly ordered it while you waited for Joe to get there. Another 45 minutes had passed with the pizza being kept warm in the oven and you sitting on the couch re-watching Scandal when you heard his key in the door. Once it was opened, it was quickly slammed shut making you jump and the sound was quickly followed by him throwing his bag on the floor at his feet and hearing him sigh.

Still in your jersey from the game that had your boyfriend's name on the back of it, you got up to greet him by the door. His expression was still unreadable when you stood in front of him and slowly tried to take his hands into yours, but he moved away at the last second.

“Bubs….”

Joe didn’t even bother to respond to you as his eyes were closed and he was leaning back against the door.

“What do you need me to do?” You softly asked as you kissed the side of his mouth, trying to get an answer out of him.

When he finally opened his eyes and glanced down at you, his eyes had softened but only slightly as he saw the love of his life in front of him.

“Get upstairs and strip.”

“Mm, gladly. Your wish is my command.”

Nodding your head towards him, he then turned you around to face the stairs as you slowly walked over towards them. Your foot was on the first step when you heard his voice once more.

“You have two minutes to do what I told you, so I suggest you get a move on before I put you there myself.”

Hearing this made a river form in between your thighs and you loved how dominant he could get when the two of you were by yourselves. That happened to be the only good thing that would come out of him losing a game. If this is what he needed to help him get through it, the last thing that you were ever going to do was complain.

Reaching the last step, you still heard him moving around downstairs before you swung the door open to his bedroom which had been left ajar before he left for the game earlier.

Your clothes were then taken off slowly one by one in the hopes of Joe walking in and seeing you. Your shoes had already been thrown off at the door downstairs, the next thing to come off was your jeans that hugged your curves that he loved so much. Next was his jersey and the shirt that you were wearing underneath it in case you got cold. You had started to take off your bra next when you suddenly felt him behind you making you jump. You hadn’t heard him come in as he wrapped his arms around you before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought I told you to strip? So, why are you still wearing clothes? You like disobeying me?” He asked you before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“No, I was….”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. Do as you’re told the first time so I don’t have to punish you. Now get the rest of those clothes off.” He told you as a light smack was felt across your ass.

You nodded your head and your bra as well as your black thong were quickly removed from your body and discarded onto the floor all while Joe was standing behind you watching you intensely. Once you were finished, he leaned down to your ear once more before he reached around to put two of his fingers up to your mouth that you slowly started to suck on before reaching down and rubbing small circles along your clit making you gasp.

“Mmm, look how wet my baby is. This all for me?” You nodded your head to answer his question because you knew that words were going to fail to come out of your mouth.

“Get on the bed and you better not make a sound unless I fucking tell you to. Face down, ass up.”

Walking over to the bed once Joe moved his fingers away from your core, you slowly got on the bed with the help of him since the bed was so high and crawled to the top of it as you rested your head down on your arms with your ass sticking high up in the air on display for him.

You could hear Joe behind you doing away with his clothes and in a matter of seconds you felt him crawl onto the bed and roughly grab a hold of your hips before slowly entering you and bottoming out as he threw his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

It took everything in you not to let out a gasp and simply put your hand over your mouth as you felt him move out of you before he slammed back in.

His movements were intense and sloppy of course with him letting out his frustrations as you were doing your best to keep quiet. The more he pounded into you, the harder it was becoming and knew that being quiet would only last but so long.

You could feel yourself getting closer to reaching your peak and you soon felt Joe reach underneath of you to massage your clit as he continued to pound into you. This sent you over the edge and you couldn’t help but to let out a small moan but immediately put your hand back over your mouth. But the damage was already done and you tug knew that you would soon be in for it.

“Oooh fuck.”

Hearing this, Joe immediately flipped you over and a hand immediately went around your neck with him squeezing it.

“Did I tell you to fucking speak? I don’t think I did.”

You remained quiet as he let go of your neck as he trailed kisses along it and down your chest with him placing one of your nipples into his mouth as he was rolling the other one between his fingers. It was taking everything in you to stay quiet as your back arched up off of the mattress. His fingers moved on from playing with your nipple to insert two of them into you as he continued to suck on the other one.

Joe noticed that you were squirming and he took it as a sign that you were close and probably frustrated because he told you not to say anything.

“You close baby? I can tell.”

To answer him, you nodded your head as he added another finger making you gasp. His fingers were pumping in and out of you when he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue knowing that it was a matter of seconds before you would come undone in front of him.

“Shiiit!” You couldn’t help but to let out as your hands were directly to his hair to pull him closer to you.

At this point, your legs were wrapped around his neck as he began to suck on your clit making them shake the harder that he did.

“Baby…. I’m….” You started to say, but without warning a gush of liquid was now covering Joe’s face as he was still sucking on your clit making you squirm.

“That’s my good girl. Give me another one, baby. I know you can.”

You immediately shook your head no, but it was clear that Joe didn’t care since he went right back to sucking on your clit. After you squirted all over his face once more, he quickly crawled back up your body as he inserted himself into you.

His movements were more sloppy than before indicating that he was close as he put your legs onto his shoulders as you began to rub your clit.

You had reached your peak for the third time when you felt Joe slide out of you. Knowing what that meant, you immediately sat up and took him in your mouth as you tasted his cum hitting the back of your throat.

“That’s my pretty girl. You better swallow it and not waste a drop.”

Joe had now put your hair in a makeshift ponytail to get it out of the way since he remembered you one time promptly yelling at him when his cum had gotten in your hair after you had gotten it done just hours before.

Once you swallowed everything that didn’t leak out the side of your mouth, you promptly opened it to show Joe who then leaned down to place several kisses on your lips. Once you had laid back, Joe quickly followed suit with him laying on you as you held him tightly to your chest. It was quiet for a few minutes as both of you were trying to even your breathing when he finally spoke.

“We should have won.”

“I know.”

“And even though it wasn’t my fucking fault, I’m going to get the blame for it.”

“I know.”

“We’re 0 and 3 now and I don’t know what to fucking do.”

“The only thing you can do is to go out there and do your best. You played absolutely amazing tonight so this isn’t on you in the slightest even though people will put it on you anyway. I am still so proud of you and I’m always going to be proud of you.” You told him as you placed a kiss on top of his head.

“Proud of a loser boyfriend who can’t win an NFL game?”

“Joseph… talk about yourself like that again. I dare you. Just because you have a few setbacks doesn’t mean that it’s going to be like this forever. I will let you rant all you want tonight, but tomorrow I’m not having it. You are literally the highest paid quarterback in the NFL and you need to fucking act like it.”

“I... guess you’re right.”

“I know I'm right. It's only been three weeks. There's still time to turn this around for the better and I promise to be here through all of it. But did I perform my duties as your girlfriend to help you let your frustrations out?” You asked and he immediately smirked.

“You did more than help me through it, but I definitely didn't say that we were done.” He told you as he picked his head up off of your chest to look at you.

“Wait, what?”

“Switch places with me so you can ride me.”

Taglist

@a-moment-captured

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

@wickedfun9

@dandelionwrites8

@keiva1000

[wtfsteveharrington]

love love love your writing, could you do something with luca? maybe reader gets hurt in the kitchen and he has to help her

a/n: thank you so much :’) i went a different kitchen than you meant probably but i hope u like <33

warning!! contains non-graphic mentions of accidental cuts, blood, and a physical injury.

The apartment is peaceful. Candles lit, soft music playing from a playlist you both curate, and it was pretty enough outside to leave the windows cracked open for a breeze.

You’re turning around with a stack of t-shirt’s in your arms, only half paying attention when you feel yourself bump into something that promptly shatters to the ground and disrupts the peaceful environment.

“Shit!” You both echo at the same time from being startled.

Luca’s wrapping a towel around his hand, leaving everything in the kitchen behind as he hunts you down. “Darling? What happened? Are you alright?” He took just enough time to realize that the knife had gotten him when he jumped, acknowledged he was alright, and quickly went to check on you. You’d always come on the top of his priority list.

You’re standing in a pile of glass, a deep set frown on your lips as you look around at mess made by a broken vase. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I was trying to put away our laundry and forgot I moved the vase to the edge of the dresser earlier when we were cleaning. Just caught the corner and it fell.”

Looking up at him with a little pout, “I’m sor-“

You’ve honed in on his towel wrapped hand, the hint of blood soaking through the thin material.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely fucked my hand.” He gives you some sort of ‘What can you do’ look while shrugging his shoulders. Luca has had his fair share of kitchen incidents and was much more accustom to injuries. It was deep enough to need stitches, just needed to be rinsed and bandaged.

You, however? Very much not used to seeing your boyfriend like this.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to grab his wrist, taking a peek under the towel and wincing. “Luca!” He doesn’t have time to respond before you’re dragging him back into the kitchen to get him taken care of.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the sink, trying to fight the urge to panic at the sight of him injured due to a mistake you made. He can see the way your face is all twisted up with concern and he hates it.

“M’alright… Done much worse to myself before. Won’t even leave a scar.” A scar? You frown more as you make sure the cut is clean and step back to go fish out the first aid kit from the bathroom.

“Stay put, please.”

Luca, a man, stands there as he’s told but does admire the sway of your ass as you barrel away. He then gets to admire the swell of your cleavage under your top and - “Shit!” He hissed out as you’re grabbing his hand again to apply a bit of ointment.

“Shoulda paid less attention to my boobs and you would have seen this coming.” You tease while trying so hard to keep the mood as light as you can muster. There was still a course of guilt running through your veins as you continue patching him up.

“I truly am fine, you know? Comes with the job territory. Won’t be the last time I get cut.” He leans in to press a tender kiss to your head and you gravitate towards the touch. You know it’s not a life or death situation but between being embarrassed over both breaking the vase and indirectly injuring Luca you were a little solemn to say the least.

“I know, just hate I caused this.” The bandaid is smoothed over his skin and you give it another once over before bringing it to your lips, kissing over the bandaid. Luca allows you to continue fretting over the injury for a moment until he’s moving his hand to cup your jaw and make look up at him.

“It was an accident, no?” You both nod. “Exactly… I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re both fine. Don’t want you beating yourself up over this.”

You take a deep breath and allow his words to sink in for a moment before nodding once again. Eyes flickering up to his before you lean in and press a tender kiss to his lips. “M’sorry you got hurt…” Another kiss. “Was kinda hot how well you handled it though.”

Luca laughs against your mouth, a wide grin on his features as he feels your anxiety finally start to settle. He steals one more kiss before stepping back to acknowledge the state of the kitchen, giving your waist a squeeze before he goes.

He glances over the cutting board that was the culprit of injury and the food that started to burn while he was tended to. Shrugging his shoulders, turning to smirk at you with pure love and devotion in his eyes.

“Fuck it, let’s go have a date night out instead.”

A hand claps against the flesh of your ass as he passes you to go get changed.

[dixons-sunshine]

You Are My Sunshine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Being pregnant was a challenge, and being pregnant in an apocalypse came with a whole set of challenges on its own. Luckily, you had Daryl to take care of you, even if he was a little bit overprotective.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, probably other things I can’t think of right now.

A/N: I don’t really know if pregnant ladies not being allowed to lift heavy things is factual or not. I just remembered someone telling me once that it could be harmful for the unborn child, and I’ve seen it being mentioned in movies and shows before, so I went based off of that. If it isn’t true, please pretend that it is for my sake lol.

“I know ya can, but it dun’ mean ya have to. Ya need’a take it easy.”

“Daryl, I'm perfectly capable of carrying it myself, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small smile spreading over your face. “Dar, I have to do something. I can’t let everyone else do everything while I sit on my ass all day.”

“Yer pregnant. I ain't lettin’ ya overwork yerself. Anyone have a problem with that, let me know and I’ll handle ‘em. I ain’t lettin’ anythin’ happen to our baby jus’ ‘cause some people can’t pick up the slack and ya have to do their work for ‘em.”

“I highly doubt carrying one crate is gonna do anything,” you stated matter-of-factly, walking at a steady pace beside the archer while he was carrying the crate in question back to the pantry.

“Ain’t riskin’ it,” Daryl retorted with a sense of finality, pushing the crate onto one of the shelves before turning to you. He took a step towards you and placed a gentle hand on your growing bump, looking at you with a soft expression. “Ya and this baby, our baby, are the most important people in the world to me. I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ happen to the two of ya. If that means carryin’ a crate so that ya can rest or fightin’ off a herd of walkers so that yer safe, so be it. I’d do anythin’ for you and our lil’ one.”

You smiled softly at the archer you’ve grown to love above everything else. You leaned forward to press a quick, gentle peck on his cheek before leaning back, giggling at the bashful look and blush that coated Daryl’s face from the small action. “Sorry,” you said with a light laugh, aware of his feelings towards public displays of affection. “You’re just too adorable sometimes, you know that?”

That elicited a scoff from Daryl. He withdrew his hand from your bump and stepped back, ducking his head down to let his hair hide the growing blush on his face. “I ain’t adorable,” he retorted quietly.

“You are,” you responded with a light laugh. “There’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind about that. You, Daryl Dixon, are adorable, sweet, caring and so much more. There honestly aren’t enough adjectives in the dictionary to describe how perfect you are to me.”

Daryl scoffed again. He shook his head at you, but you could see his mouth twitch up into a small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah,” he started, glancing at you through the hair that hung in front of his eyes. “Yer the perfect one. ‘M lucky to call ya mine.”

“Don’t start with me, Dixon. We can go back and forth about who’s more perfect all day,” you joked, successfully gaining a small chuckle from him in response.

“Alright,” he started, taking a step forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I ain’t about to start an argument with the pregnant lady.”

“If that’s the case, does that mean I can help out with the tasks around here?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah, that I ain’t lettin' happen. I was talkin’ ‘bout petty arguments. Ya need to take it easy and rest. Leave the work to the people who ain’t got unborn babies in their bellies they have to worry ‘bout.”

“Daryl—” you started, about to voice your protest, but the archer cut you off.

“None of that,” he stated with a shake of his head, his tone stern. “Ya remember the times ya wouldn’t let me do much to help out when I was hurt? I could help jus’ fine then too, but ya were worried ‘bout me and takin’ care of me. Let me take care of ya now, alright? Ya have more at stake here than tearin’ a few stitches.”

You pondered over his words for a few moments, hesitantly nodding after a few seconds. “Alright,” you finally agreed with a small sigh. “I haven’t really been getting much sleep these past few days. I guess I can go take a nap or something if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Hey,” Daryl started, taking one of your hands in his. “This ain’t ‘cause I think yer incapable to help out or somethin’. I know ya can, but I would feel better knowin’ yer not accidentally overworkin’ yerself. I’ve seen it happen before. Ya’d get so focused on a task and would overwork yerself without even knowin’ it. I dun’ want that to happen to ya right now.”

“Okay,” you nodded, willing the feelings of being useless away at the archer’s reassuring words, knowing he spoke nothing but the truth. “But the moment you guys desperately need an extra pair of hands, promise me you’ll come get me?”

Daryl nodded half-heartedly, and you could tell that even if he promised he would, he probably wouldn’t come get you. He’d put yours and your baby’s safety above everything else, even at the cost of a few extra hours of work for him and the other Alexandrians.

You leaned up on your toes to press a feathery light kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You gave him a smile before turning to walk out of the pantry towards the home you shared with him. As soon as you reached the front door of your home and pushed inside, you shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, discarding them by the table next to the entrance. You looked at the expanse of the quiet house and sighed, knowing you’d be alone until the sun started to set.

Well, you thought to yourself, I might as well make the best of my time alone. You went towards the kitchen to get a glass of water before descending up the stairs towards your room. You changed into something more comfortable before settling down on the bed, grabbing the book you were busy reading and flipping to the page you were busy with. You absentmindedly placed one hand over your stomach, the other holding the book as your eyes started to trail over the words on the page.

After a while, the words on the page started to blur together. You blinked repeatedly, hoping to clear your vision, but to no avail. Your eyes fell closed on their own accord, and within a few moments, you were asleep.

The feeling of the bed dipping beside you awoke you from your slumber. You opened your eyes and brought one of your hands up to wipe the sleep out of your eyes. When your vision cleared, you locked eyes with Daryl, the man having a faint, soft smile on his face.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake ya,” he apologized, bringing a hand up to brush the stray hair back and away from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, bringing yourself up to a sitting position. You grabbed the book that you had read before falling asleep and placed it on your bedside table, before shifting your attention back to the archer.

Daryl was seated on the edge of the bed, busy pulling his boots off of his feet. When he was done, he laid back against the headboard, bringing his legs up to rest on the bed. His shoulders were slightly slumped, his posture giving away how tired he was. You furrowed your eyebrows at that. The workload hadn’t been that much that day, and as soon as the people were done they could return to their homes, so you couldn’t understand why Daryl looked so tired. Unless...

“Daryl,” you began softly, instantly catching the archer’s attention. “Did more work come in while I was here at home?” Daryl’s silence was enough of an answer. “Daryl—”

“S’fine. Nothin’ we couldn’t handle. Jus’ some buildin’ materials Maggie and the King sent us from their communities to fix up more houses. Rick wanted to get started on the repairs today, so Aaron and I got some people together to start.”

“Daryl,” you started, shaking your head. “I told you that if you needed an extra pair of hands to come and get me.”

“Nah, we were fine. Ya clearly needed the rest.”

“But—” you started to retort, but Daryl cut you off instantly.

“Michonne told me that really heavy liftin’ ain’t good for a pregnant lady. Said it can hurt the baby, so I didn’t want ya carryin’ logs and other heavy materials around. The rest of us can handle that.”

“When did you talk to Michonne?” you asked skeptically, your eyes narrowing in suspicion.

A sheepish look graced Daryl’s features. He avoided your gaze and instead focused his eyes on the bedsheets. “About a week after we found out that yer pregnant,” he admitted, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. “I was askin’ her and Carol what I could do to help make yer pregnancy easier, what would help with yer mornin’ sickness and what ya should avoid doin’, and she told me that ya needed to refrain from liftin’ heavy things. Said it could harm the baby.”

“So that’s why you’ve been so against me helping out around here?” you asked, earning a nod of confirmation from Daryl.

“Yeah. Most of the work we gotta do ‘round here involves heavy liftin’, and I didn’t want ya accidentally hurtin’ yerself or our lil’ one ‘cause of it. That’s why I’ve been so adamant about ya takin’ it easy,” he confirmed, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I didn’t wanna be overbearin’, but ya really wanted to help out with everythin’ and the thought of somethin’ goin’ wrong ‘cause of all the hard work we have to do was too much for me to handle. M’sorry.”

You gently grabbed Daryl’s hand, bringing it up to softly kiss his knuckles. “Why are you sorry? For not wanting anything to happen to me or our baby? You don’t have anything to apologize for. If anything, I should be apologizing.”

“For what?” Daryl asked confusedly, intertwining your fingers with his.

“For being so adamant about working. I just... I didn’t want to feel useless. I didn’t want to feel like a burden because I couldn’t help out.”

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. “Yer not a burden. Dun’ ever think that. Yer carryin’ a life in yer belly, and that’s takin’ up most of yer energy and time. If anybody has a problem with the fact that ya can’t work as hard as ya used to for the next few months ‘cause yer pregnant, let me know and I’ll beat their ass.”

You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, you could feel tears starting to form in your eyes. Daryl noticed it and frowned, concern lacing his voice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks gently. He wiped away the tears that fell with his thumb.

“Hormones,” you said simply, laughing through your tears. “I don’t even really know why I’m crying.”

“C’mere,” Daryl said, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to lay your head down on his chest. You shifted your body until your were comfortable, wrapping your arms around him as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Daryl’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands venturing down to your baby bump. He gently started to caress your stomach, his hand’s soft movements making you sleepy almost instantly.

“M’sorry for bein’ so overprotective,” Daryl voiced after a few moments of silence, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“And I’m sorry for being so stubborn. I promise I’ll be more careful and take it easier from now on,” you promised, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief. “Any more of yer stubbornness and I would’a been forced to lock ya in the house whenever there was work to do.”

You laughed and lightly hit one of his arms that were wrapped around you, eliciting a chuckle from the archer. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love ya too,” he responded, placing another kiss on your head. "Now get some more rest. I'll be right here when ya wake up.”

You nodded against his chest and closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat, your own personal lullaby. As your eyes drifted closed for the second time that day, you swore you could hear Daryl start to hum a song. A song you’ve been singing to your baby in your stomach since you found out you were pregnant.

You are my sunshine.

A smile formed on your face as Daryl lowly continued to hum the song, his hand still gently caressing your stomach. With the gentle caress of his hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the song he was humming, you soon drifted into slumber, safe in your archer’s arms.

[olderthannetfic]

I just have to say, I don’t like the internet’s recent obsession with labeling everyone, but right now it’s the proship vs anti. I don’t know which side I fall on but I don’t know how to say that without getting someone mad at me. I don’t like to see proship content and I have filters on so that I don’t see it, but I also understand that it has the right to exist and that policing what people post on the internet is stupid and gatekeepy. And I also know that saying that publicly could lead to me getting doxxed or some shit like that.

I guess the main reason why I’m venting about this now is because an anon just asked whether I was proship or anti because apparently I had reblogged a post that says “proshippers dni”, even though I have no idea when I did that and can’t find the post because tumblr’s search bar is shit. I know that this anon, whoever it is, is a proshipper, but I also know that some of my mutuals are antis, and whichever label I put on myself will probably end up losing me at least one mutual and I just don’t know what to do. Is saying that I don’t care about the labels a valid option in this situation? I don’t know what to do.

I’m sorry for venting in your inbox, I just had to get this off my chest. You don’t have to respond if you don’t want to.

--

Oh for fuck sake.

First of all, stop spreading the nonsense that antis promote, which is that "proship" means "problematic ship" and/or is a label for dark content.

The term originates as "I'm not an anti" and refers to the overall stance that dark stuff has a right to exist whether or not you personally like it.

In other words, your stance.

Second, man up and say what you think. If people are dickheads about it, block them and tell them how inappropriate bullying is. The fact that most people go "Oooh, I don't know where I staaaand" is exactly why bullies are allowed to run rampant through our communities.

Do you think I don't get threats by leaving anon on to make my inbox safe for you? Of course I do! But I get far fewer than I would if I acted spineless.

If you have mutuals who are truly antis, it's time they learned that they'll lose nice and reasonable friends by being harassing assholes who believe fairy tales about video games causing violence or the sexy equivalent.

--

Say "I think these terms are both dumb. I believe dark fiction has a right to exist, but I don't want to see it. If you think it's okay to harass real people to "protect" fictional characters, you are a terrible person. I don't need a label to say I'm anti-censorship and anti-bullying."

If anyone wants to cry about that, they suck and you should remove them from your life.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 5: acorn

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

This is kind of flangst if you squint, but the idea came to my mind and I thought it would be really cute. One of my favorites, enjoy, and reblog if you liked it!

You and Spencer walked in silence, with only the sound of the orange leaves crunching under your feet. Autumn had undeniably arrived, and you knew perfectly well that this season was a blessing for many children, providing them with leaves on the ground to play with, warm clothes, and tons of candy. Somehow, it was also your favorite time of the year, as it brought back a few pleasant memories you guarded closely in your heart.

“How did he behave over the weekend?”

“Very well, actually,” he replied, happy that you had finally decided to break the silence. In the distance, you could hear the giggles of a child you both made sure to check on from time to time. “We made pancakes, I took him to the aquarium, we drew a lot, and overall, he didn’t throw any tantrums or anything like that. He even asked me to tuck him in.”

“He always wants that,” you said. “Sometimes he makes me read the books you give him.”

“And he asks me to sing him lullabies you taught him.”

You both fell silent again.

It wasn’t often that your ex-husband’s days off aligned with yours, and the truth was that you both only sought to see each other when strictly necessary. Many times, Jason spent weekends with his father, and when Spencer had the chance, he would take him to school and other activities.

As a father, you couldn’t complain about him. He tried his best after the divorce, as if wanting to make up for something, and you both made sure to keep arguments away from Jason’s ears because the last thing you wanted was for your son to suffer because of it.

It had been somewhat complicated explaining the dynamics of your post-divorce life to Jason, as he didn’t understand why his father, whom he loved so much, had to move to a new apartment. Spencer had tried to be as kind as possible when talking to his son, not wanting him to feel, even for a second, the abandonment Spencer himself had felt from his own father. He called him all the time, bought him an endless number of things, and made sure to have him with him whenever work allowed.

Work, work… that damned work.

“That’s just how he is,” you said simply.

A cold breeze filled the air, and you tucked your hands into your coat pockets, just as your husband did. Once upon a time, you might have held hands to deal with the cold, but now that was unthinkable.

“He also told me he already has a costume for Halloween, right?”

“He wants to be Sherlock Holmes. It was between that and Albert Einstein, but he went with Sherlock because he said his job was similar to his daddy’s.”

Spencer let out a chuckle that was stifled in his throat and looked in the direction of the little boy who was hopping around in the leaves, already too dirty from the nature of the park.

“Do you need money to buy the costume? I could ask JJ where they sell some, or…”

“It’s okay, Reid. I’ll probably make it myself or ask my mom,” you murmured, shrugging. “But he wants you to take him trick-or-treating.”

“I’ll try. But you know with cases… it’s unpredictable.”

“Explain it to him, not me,” you muttered seriously.

Honestly, conversations between the two of you were almost always uncomfortable. Sometimes Spencer tried to find a normal or interesting topic for you, but you rarely carried the conversation forward. Other times, you wished you could ask him about things that really mattered—his mental state, his feelings, or simply what was happening in his life—but you had no idea how to go about it.

That’s why you both preferred to talk only about Jason.

“Look, Mommy!” your son suddenly shouted, throwing a bunch of leaves into the air and laughing when they fell on him.

“How nice, baby,” you responded with feigned excitement, somewhat relieved that your son was having fun.

You both stood there watching the little one, and you could feel your ex-husband’s gaze from the corner of your eye. So many years of knowing him, of loving him, had allowed you to detect when he wanted to say something but didn’t dare. Sometimes, you still felt guilty for being able to read him so easily, and you had no doubt he felt the same, especially with that eidetic memory of his helping him.

“Jason talked to me about Christmas the other day,” he began, seemingly gathering the courage to speak. It had to be something important if he had taken the trouble to bring it up. “Has he mentioned anything to you about the presents he’ll ask Santa for?”

“Not yet, but he’s usually happy with whatever he gets. We can ask him later what he wants or tell him to write a letter for something specific, but I think some of the other gifts could be a chemistry set or art supplies; his teacher says he’s shown a lot of interest in both.”

“I see,” he murmured, nodding slightly. But he didn’t seem satisfied with your answer. “He said something interesting to me the other day. I just wanted to know if he had told you about it already.”

“Maybe if you tell me, I can answer,” you said without looking at him, trying to stay calm.

You had a suspicion of what your son had talked about, but you didn’t want to make a mistake. And Spencer felt exactly the same.

There was silence again for a few minutes, which felt like an eternity, and then he spoke:

“He told me this year he doesn’t want to ask Santa for anything because he wants to save his wish for something special,” he began. He paused for a moment and then continued, “I asked him what it was, and he didn’t want to tell me, so I suggested he could write a letter even though it was still early. He did, and after I put him to bed, I went to read it. There was a drawing and some words written in a messy but legible way. It said his only wish was for his mommy and daddy to be together again.”

By the middle of the conversation, you already knew what it was about. By the end, a few tears had welled up in your eyes.

“I know. He tells me that often,” you confessed, feeling a tightness in your chest. “And I never know what to say.”

“Have you thought about remarrying?” he suddenly asked. It was barely a murmur, but enough for you to turn to him in evident surprise. “I mean… with someone else. Or maybe having a boyfriend?”

“Jason takes up most of my time, and work takes up the rest. I don’t think there’s an opportunity to even consider it,” you said seriously. Since the divorce, neither of you had thought about the possibility of Jason having a stepfather or a stepmother. “What about you?”

“Never. I believe marriage is a pact you make only once in life.”

What was he trying to do? Was he criticizing you? Was he hinting that he saw the possibility of living together again?

“Well, that way Jason won’t be confused. At least until he grows up.”

“Don’t you think he needs a father figure?”

“What do you think you are then?”

“A permanent figure,” he clarified. “And a mother figure at the same time. We worry about ourselves, but we never thought about how this would affect him.”

“Of course I thought about it, Spencer. That’s why I asked for the divorce.”

Low blow. And a painful one.

“Listen, I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m not trying to justify myself. But it’s been two years, and I think I’ve changed enough to prove to you that I’m not a bad father.”

“I don’t need proof of that. I know you’re not,” you said firmly. But when you spoke again, your words were harsher. “But I can’t trust that you’ll be a good husband.”

“I was before.”

“Yes, but then you ended up in prison. And you decided your work was worth more than your family.”

“That’s not true,” he exclaimed, clearly offended. “You and Jason have always been my priority, even now. I live only for you, and in return, you abandoned me when I needed you the most.”

“Spencer, stop blaming me. I had to choose between taking care of you or raising my son. Our son. So I sacrificed my marriage to make the best decision for him. We came second.”

“But divorce doesn’t have to be forever,” he insisted, stepping in front of you to make you look at him. “If you want, we don’t even have to sleep in the same bed. I just… I just want us to live together again. For Jason. I think he deserves to have a complete family because I know how hard it is not to have one, and I don’t want him to go through the same thing.”

You were finally talking more than you had in months. But to be honest, you wished it wasn’t happening. He took one of his hands out of his pocket and reached up to touch your cheek. You were freezing, and it became a fervent desire to lean into you and lose himself in your lips.

“Spencer, don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I need to think with a clear head. And you’re just clouding my judgment.”

“Why does it have to be a decision you make with a clear head?” he said, sounding hurt. “I’m not a stranger; we once loved each other. I still love you.”

His other hand came up to cup your face, and you placed your hands on his wrists, trying in vain to push him away. You didn’t have the strength, neither physically nor mentally, to do it.

“Spencer, nothing guarantees that getting back together will make us happy.”

“And nothing guarantees that it won’t,” he murmured, pleading. His fingers stroked you gently, and you felt yourself succumbing to temptation.

You were looking into his honey-colored eyes again, and you realized that was one of the things that hadn’t changed despite all the years; they still looked so sweet, so docile toward you. And suddenly, you felt as in love as the first time, and that terrified you. Loving meant the fear of getting hurt again.

You were about to say something when a shout caught your attention, making you think for a second that something had happened to your son. Luckily, it was just him trying to get your attention.

“Come play! Please!” he said politely, with that persuasive little voice he was already learning to use.

“We’re coming, my love.”

The conversation was interrupted by that activity, and although Jason asked why you were crying, you reassured him, blaming the cold in the park. As the minutes passed and you two began to follow your son’s lead, the mood lightened. You even reached a point where you were genuinely having fun, the three of you together, and it was undeniable that your little boy was brimming with happiness.

“A squirrel!” Jason suddenly shouted. He loved animals, so he didn’t hesitate to get closer.

“Careful, honey,” Spencer hurried, always the more fearful of the two of you. “It’s not a good idea to touch squirrels, even if they look cute. They’re wild animals and could bite or scratch you if they get scared. Plus, they can have bugs or diseases.”

“But I want to pet it! Can I, Mommy?”

“When Daddy says no, it’s a no.”

Your son pouted, pretending to be upset, but looking as cute as any 6-year-old. Your ex-husband tried to cheer him up by crouching down to his level.

“Better let’s observe what it’s doing. What do you think it’s looking for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look, there. In its little hands.”

“An acorn!” he exclaimed happily. The squirrel was picking some off the ground and putting them in its mouth, filling its cheeks. “Why is it doing that?”

“It’s storing food for the winter. It buries them in a safe place, and then when the snow falls, it looks for them to eat.”

“There are more over there!” your son said, pointing with his little finger. “There are three. Do you think those are its mommy and daddy?”

“Maybe, son.”

“They’re like us, right?” he smiled.

You looked away from them because you didn’t want to meet Spencer’s eyes if he turned, and you only heard him laugh.

“Yes, maybe they are.”

Jason watched the animals for a few more minutes, and then he got distracted by a nearby hot chocolate stand. Spencer bought a cup for each of you, which felt wonderful. During the time you all sat on a bench to drink it, with Jason in the middle of both of you, you could sense the furtive glances Spencer gave you, and unwillingly, you did the same toward him.

Jason played for so long that the sky darkened, and he was completely exhausted. By the time you hugged him, ready to head home, he had already fallen fast asleep. And although his presence was evident in theory, you were once again effectively alone with your ex-husband as you approached the car.

He offered to drive to avoid waking your son, and then he opened the passenger door for you, where you settled in, trying to make Jason as comfortable as possible. Halfway through the drive to your apartment, there was an awkward silence that couldn’t even be avoided with music because Spencer had forgotten to fix the stereo.

You struggled to admit it but, to be honest, you hadn’t had such a bad time that afternoon. You were genuinely happy about the family moment you shared, and proof of that was how you clung to who you would always see as your baby, smiling as you watched him sleep so peacefully.

Spencer didn’t expect you to speak during a red light.

“We can meet up to spend Christmas together as a family. Stay in the same apartment, open presents together, and all that,” you said, not looking at him, trying to focus on anything else to avoid him “And it’s too soon to make such a drastic decision, Spencer, like going back to a practically married life. But we can think about it and decide after the new year.”

Despite your indifference, he knew you were being sincere and not just giving him false hope. And he also knew that he would work twice as hard to win back your trust, forgive your mistakes, and, with some luck, recover your love. You hoped you had the strength to forget what had happened and see Spencer for who he was now, not for who he had been.

“I’m glad you said that. And I agree,” was all he replied.

When you got home, you both made sure to leave your son comfortably asleep in bed, and as an extra favor and a show of commitment, you stayed a long time watching him sleep, as if trying to preserve that childish image forever. You didn’t say anything when Spencer wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and he pretended not to notice that you leaned into him, resting your head lightly against his chest.

All you could think was how you hoped time would be kind to you and allow you to eventually rekindle the love you once had and offer it to the beautiful child lying in front of you.

[hidden-snow]

✦┈⋆┈ ⋞ 〈 Ｒｕｎｎｉｎｇ Ｈｏｍｅ ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ 〉 ⋟ ┈⋆┈✦

Summary // You thought your relationship was as special to him as it was to you. You thought he loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him. But when his family leaves the Omatikaya and all he has to offer is ‘I’m sorry’ when you beg and plead for him to stay with you, you realize that you were so, so wrong about him. Heartbroken and defeated, a girl barely seventeen years old, you decide that you will never love again. After all, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Years later and you are the best of the best. A strong warrior and an even better hunter, you provide for your people in every way except for a child to add to the next generation of Omatikaya people. They respect your wishes but you can hear the whispers. You can feel the concerned gazes from your parents, too old to conceive a sibling to make up for your lack of children. When he comes back, it throws you through a loop. Handsome, mighty, and different, he comes to you right away. But you promised yourself.

Warnings // Angst, a bit of stalker Neteyam, some fluff, mentions of drinking, heartbreak

Word count // 1,506

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

He was everywhere.

When you were supposed to be training the younger hunters, when you were telling stories to the children, when you were eating meals with the rest of the clan.

No matter where you were, you could count on him being nearby, keeping an eye on you as if you were his and only his.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought, mainly because you knew that, no matter what, you would never belong to anyone. Especially not to him.

Though… in a way, it was also kind of sweet that he cared so much about who you were around. Annoying as it was, he was very eager to show that he still cared about you despite all these years of separation.

No matter what, though, you were determined to not allow him to get into your head again. Not this time. Not ever again.

Gritting your fists, you set yourself into the mindspace of the task you had to do now; some one on one training with a young student who was currently a bit farther behind than the others.

Walking along the trodden dirt path, you came to a clearing surrounded by thickly growing plants, trees towering over you as if reaching to the blue hued sky above. You draw in a slow breath, letting it out slowly as you wait for your student to show up, bow resting against your back.

“I hope you don’t mind. I convinced Ìtseì to let me have this training session with you. I could use some practice with you.”

Exasperated, you turn to level Neteyam with your best, coldest glare, only to find that he was unfazed by your hostility. He simply smirked back at you, raising an eyebrow as he pulled his bow from behind his back.

“Are you sure you still know how to use a bow? After all that time, swimming with the reef people… it probably left you extremely rusty.”

“Ah, there’s that spitfire I’ve been waiting for,” Neteyam responded, notching one of his feathered arrows. Intricately carved, delicate and deadly. Quick to pierce hearts, sharp enough to end a life in one shot.

Just like how he ended the life you’d had before.

You shake your head, regathering your thoughts to what you needed to do.

“You’re a big boy. Help yourself. Since Ìtseì did not show up, I will go and hunt by myself,” you respond, turning your back to the male, fully intent on hunting alone.

Except, he didn’t leave you alone.

You were beginning to wonder if this was a behavioral pattern that had been forged into him by his father from a young age. After all, Neteyam followed Jake around all the time as a child, ready and waiting for orders or instructions that only he could take care of.

That had to be the reason for his stalker-like behavior.

Pushing aside heavy, large leaves and small viney shrubs, you could hear him behind you, despite the fact that he was very obviously trying hard not to make a sound.

“Following me is not going to get you on my good side,” you warn softly, throwing the comment over your shoulder aggressively as you walked a bit faster.

He wasn’t discouraged, nor did he seem to be bothered by your sharp words or your dismissive behavior. In fact, it seemed to spur him on more, his footsteps speeding up so that he could catch up with you.

“Come on, Y/n. Can’t we just talk? You and I, together, like we used to do. Please.”

His fingers wrap around your wrist and you yank away, at the same time swinging your bow at him, instinctive training kicking in. He ducked down, barely missing the slash of your bow in the area where his face had been mere seconds ago.

“Do not touch me, Neteyam te Sulli Tsyeyk’itan. I am not your yawne. I am not your childhood friend. I am not your toy or your plaything. You have destroyed everything we once had. You have crumbled every bridge that sat between you and I. I want nothing to do with you.”

This time, he falters, a look of horror and shock on his face. But you aren’t really sure if that was directed towards the fact that you’d tried to hit him or the words that had just spilled from your lips.

You turn away to hide the tears that were now burning hot and fresh in your eyes, refusing to allow him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. He didn’t even deserve that.

Your feet move before you can think about it, taking you rapidly farther away from the stunned form of the boy who’d ruined your life. You were certain he’d leave you alone now. After all, he was smart, quick to understand the things people were telling him.

Or at least, he used to be.

Your ears twitch to the sound of him running to catch up once more and you sigh, rolling your eyes. Obviously, the ways of the water have dumbed down that intelligence, considering how desperate he was to ignore your stinging-sharp words and your ice-cold disposition towards him specifically.

“Y/n, stop walking.”

You don’t belong to him. You never did. So why did your feet falter in your path? Why did you hesitate to keep going, even as you turn to face him once more?

“Open up, Y/n. I’m back. I’m here. I’m here and I want to talk to you. I want to fix what I broke before. Please, let me explain myself to you.”

There’s a hint of desperation in that smooth tone of his, a soft drop of pleading that didn’t belong to the body that spoke the words. He’d never been the begging type before.

You open your mouth, prepared to respond in the same way as before, when a sharp sting erupted in your cheek and you tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap.

Your hand slides up, cupping your sore cheek, as you stare up in shock at the male looming over you, a new expression on his face. Unreadable and hard to pick apart.

“I just want you to hear me out. Just onc- oomph!”

Before he’s finished, you’re launching yourself at him, slamming your shoulder into his abdomen and knocking him to the ground, the soft grass beneath your feet doing nothing to cushion his fall.

“You don’t deserve my attention!” you shriek, grabbing and yanking at his braids as you wrestle him in an attempt to win the little brawl. He’s fighting back, which you had to give him credit for. It wasn’t something you’d expected from him.

Rolling in the grass, disrupting plants and innocent, wandering wildlife, biting and scratching and pulling at anything you can get your hands on, you realize he’s not going to let you win easily.

And for once in your life since he left, you welcome this. Everyone else had been taking it easy on you, seeing as how you were pretty destroyed by his departure. Things had been done for you if they seemed to be too hard. Your parents had doted on you for the past three years, trying to make up the love that you’d lost.

You needed a challenge.

And he was providing it.

It was exciting, exhilarating, full of promises of a frustrated loss or an awarding victory.

You put your all into this little sparring match, putting all of your otherwise-useless training to use. When it became clear that he was doomed to lose, he still refused to fold, fighting until the very end.

When he tapped out, the sensation of a satisfactory win filled you up inside and you couldn’t help the grin that began to grow on your face.

You sat in the grass, working to catch your breaths, silence spreading out between the small clearing you’d both found yourself in.

It was nice, peaceful and calm. Like the days you’d shared as children, playing in the streams under careful adult watch or laying in the grass and staring up at the sky as his siblings ran around picking flowers and playing games.

“Please, talk to me,” he murmured after a while, breaking the soft, gentle silence that had begun to fill you with melancholy as you reminisced on the days of your childhood.

You stand slowly, dusting yourself off as he watched you, trying to come up with the right way to explain yourself.

“I can’t,” you respond, finally meeting his gaze.

“Neteyam, you cannot fix this. Not now. Possibly not ever. I’ve moved on with my life. Don’t you think it is about time that you moved on with yours as well?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even bother to get up, and you grab your discarded items from the ground, not saying another word.

Yet… as you walk away, you realize with a sinking heart, that perhaps, you’d not gotten over him as much as you wanted to believe you had.

Taglist // @earthling55

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity; Invisible String

series masterlist

i was going to include this in chapter seventeen to break up the angst a bit...but then i thought i'd just do it as its own separate piece so that they have a chance to explore their love without there being as much (because i couldn't help myself) angst overshadowing this pivotal moment for meadow and matty....there is also an important (not very subtle) easter egg regarding the storyline that will be delved into in a later chapter....anyway this takes place between chapter 16 & 17 xxx

warning: 18+ content, fingering, piv, soft smut, declarations of loooove!!

~∞~

After the Order members had left, with plans of meeting privately to discuss Professor Dumbledore's funeral and what they were supposed to do in the wake of the harrowing battle, Madam Pomfrey had made her way over to you to check on the wounds that littered your abdomen, and with a flick of her wand, they became faint lines of jagged silver as they scarred over. Shortly after that, she'd declared you okay and insisted that you get some rest in a proper bed. It was probably also to make space for the students, part of Dumbledore's Army, who had also been injured in the battle.

You and Mattheo left shortly after that, but not before Ron came up to you and wrapped you in a hug, tears leaking from his dull blue eyes. No words were needed, you knew what his actions meant. You held him tighter, even as his parents beckoned him to his brother's bed.

The castle halls are eerily silent as you walk hand in hand with Mattheo. Even the portraits don't stir at the harsh glow of his lit wand, as if they were grieving for the loss of Dumbledore in their own way. The two of you are the only disturbance in the still atmosphere, your soft breathes and light footsteps echoing loudly on the stone floor.

Neither of you had wanted to venture near the Astronomy tower again, afraid that the sight of the now spotless hallways would spark harsh reminders of the bloodshed and carnage that had swept through them like a petulant disease only hours before. So wordlessly, Mattheo had begun leading you towards the dungeons, his body heat sheltering you from the chilly bite in the air.

The Slytherin common room was mysteriously desolate when you entered behind him. Not a soul to be found under the dim glow of the Black Lake's murky waters; only the sound of the crackling fire in the hearth and the gentle ripple of the current against the windows could be heard over your mingling breathes.

"Where is everyone?" You ask, cringing instantly as your voice becomes agonisingly loud in the silence, despite your words being spoken with quiet cadence.

"In bed I assume, or gone." Mattheo responded with a low rasp. "It wouldn't surprise me if news has already spread and parents are collecting their children to return home."

You respond with a soft "oh", as you follow him up the stairs to his dorm.

"Draco's gone." He continued as he unlocked the dark oak door leading to his dorm. "So are Blaise and Pansy. Enzo and Theo are still here, but they'll leave soon too."

"Why didn't you tell me anything before? I deserved to know that my friendships started out as a means to an end." You ask him as you enter his room. He's silent as he observes you from the threshold, brows creased in thought.

"I would've told you eventually. There was never a good enough time though. And it wasn't a means to an end, love." Your about to retort but he continues as if you hadn't opened your mouth to speak. "It felt like the right thing to do, to tell you when I did."

"To gain The Order's trust?" You ask, running a hand through your hair.

"Exactly. Though I doubt it's done much to sway them."

"What happens now?" You ask hesitantly, reaching and squeezing his hand.

Mattheo gently guides you to where his bed sits in the corner of his room, allowing you to find a comfortable position before he finds his own one behind you. He pulls your back to rest snugly against his chest, cradling your body to his own with strong, protecting arms as your heartbeats synced as one.

"I don't know, darling. But we'll face it together." He says as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. The two of you rest in stagnant silence, unsure of what tonight's happenings meant for the world as you knew it.

~∞~

A little while later, you turn to face him, restless anxiety clawing at your insides. Mattheo's curly, deep brunette hair has fallen haphazardly across his forehead and his onyx eyes, framed by glorious lashes, shine bright, despite all that they had witnessed in the past few hours. He has a soft smile painting his face as he admires you in tandem, although you can see his poorly hidden concern for you reflecting behind the tenderness. Each breath you take, he mirrors and your racing heart slows to a relaxing lull in your ears. Unhurriedly, you bring a hand up to his face and brush the loose curls away from his eyes, a tender look overtaking your fatigue.

"I meant what I said in the ward." He mumbles, voice betraying how exhausted he was, too.

"Yeah?" You ask, your smile widening imperceptibly. You fingers caress his face with featherlight strokes as you trace the freckles and scars that are scattered across his cheeks. Your eyes are now alight with teasing mischief as if daring him to say the words aloud, all sense of tiredness having left your face in the wake of it.

"Yes, Meadow." He responds with a quiet snicker as he pokes your side. His eyes glow with serene happiness as he watches you squirm and giggle, watches the despondency leave your pretty face. "Did you ever take me for a liar, sweetheart?"

"No." You say breathlessly as he continues to stroke at your trouser covered hips. "Never."

I want to hear you say it. You implore wordlessly. Please.

He kisses you then. It's not hard and rough and passionate like his caresses always are. Instead, it's soft and slow and entirely all consuming, like the very first time, but infinitely better. Every emotion he's ever felt for you coarses through your veins as his tongue clashes against your's.

"I love you." He says breathless and low against your lips. You kiss him with a newfound fervour, pouring your every thought and every emotion, intertwining your soul with his. Your magic practically explodes around you, casting a warm indigo glow about the dorm room, illuminating his features; guiding shadows in a dance across his face.

He looks at you in awe as you both admire the way his own magic seems to tangle seemlessly with it. Whorls of indigo and silver flicker in pretty patterns that seem to pour out around you like a smattering of a million tiny stars.

My incredible, smart girl. He tells you with a wide smile on his face as he looks at you, admiringly. You flush under his intense stare.

You undress each other with practiced fluidity until you are both blissfully nude; no barriers separating you from the other, all vulnerabilities splayed out in the open. He rolls on top of you and presses your hands above your head with one of his as his other trails lightly down your stomach, tracing the new lines of scars which seem to twinkle under the faux starlight. He presses soft kisses to the marred skin, words of love and adoration melting into you as he presses away the new insecurities without even trying.

He eventually works one finger, and then two inside you as his thumb strokes idle patterns against your clit. You mewl at his practiced ministrations as he fingers you, slow and rough, in the way he knows you love, despite never having said it out loud before.

The noises you make bring a delighted smirk to his pretty lips and he speeds up his movements almost unnoticeably to bring you close to release; teasing you through one orgasm before letting a second rush through you, all while drinking in every sound; every expression that you let overcome your flushed face.

It feels like an eternity later that he finally sheathes himself inside you, every ridge of his cock brushing sensually against your most sensitive spots as he sets a leisurely pace – starting slowly before he finds a particular rhythm that has the both of you moaning in unison. His arms are braced at either side of your head, careful not to snag on your hair which is haphazardly fanning out on the pillow beneath your head. The muscles in his biceps flex with every push and pull of his body, his core tense with the exertion of making you feel like you're walking on clouds.

Your own hands are on a journey of their own, travelling along the defined muscles of his abdomen and across his strong hips, until a particularly deep thrust from Mattheo causes you to claw at the soft skin of his back, willing him to come closer to you. The scars that litter his skin are blissfully joined by marks of your making, marks that he wishes could stay there forever in place of the others.

Where he's left love bites on your skin, you eagerly return the favour as best as you're able. Leaving deep purple marks across his chest and clavicle with your kiss-swollen lips that happily migrate from his body to his own lips as much as possible.

"I love you." You whisper against him and he lets out a barely restrained groan as he thrusts even harder into you at your admission. Satisfaction thrummed through his veins at the whiny sound you let out in response.

"Say that again." He says, pressing hard kisses to your chest, leaving more delicious marks in his wake.

"I love you, Mattheo Riddle." You repeat, a moan catching in your throat as you begin to reach your peak for a third time. "You have my whole heart. Break it. Crush it. Decimate it. Do what you must, but please know that it's yours. It will always be yours. I love you."

The both of you are pushed over the edge at that, clinging to eachother's bodies, which are slick with sweat. The euphoria causes your intertwining magic to surge around you again, and you both feel how it sparks at your very souls, the feeling never ceasing, only growing as you allow your love to manifest and flourish like its very own entity.

Neither of you want the intoxicating feeling to end, content in basking in the sensation, if only to prolong the immense amount of love that radiates from your magical cores.

"I love you, darling." He mumbles into the skin of your shoulder, exhausted and spent, breathing in the scent of you; the soft floral hint of your perfume that seems to linger despite the raging battle you'd been in and the musky scent of the sweat that clings to your skin.

You press a kiss to his own shoulder as his body flops to land beside your's on top of ruffled emerald sheets. Your interwoven magic still permeates the air, seemingly in no hurry to dissipate any time soon and you can feel it, along with Mattheo's deep in your chest. By the look on his face, he's feeling its affects too.

"That was–" You mumble with a breathless giggle, fingers trailing patterns across his marked skin.

"All consuming." He agrees with a lethargic chuckle of his own before he's pulling your body into his again, magically rearranging the sheets so that the two of you are modestly covered.

"Can you feel something-" You start, but are unable to put this new sensation into words as he gazes down at you with soft eyes. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Different? Like my magic isn't entirely my own anymore?" He wonders aloud and you find that he's voiced your exact feelings.

"Yeah. Precisely like that, actually." You say. "It's like I've unconsciously absorbed your magic again. I'm sorry-"

His lips against your's prevent your apology from fully forming and he's looking at you with such a tender expression that makes you melt.

"I'm not sure it is your siphoning, love. It's different. I can feel your's too." He says with lightly furrowed brows.

"How strange." You mumble, a yawn escaping your lips. Mattheo manoeuvres you so that you're practically chest to chest as he lies on his back, letting your aching nipples brush against his strong pecks as he wraps his arms around you.

You breathe out a content sigh that causes a shudder to rush through him as it ghosts over the sensitive skin of his neck. The impact of your shared love and intertwining cores feels like a supernova swirling inside you.

The fate of the wizarding world, and your own fate, is a haze of unknown territory, but you were entirely certain of one thing; Mattheo held your heart in his hands, and he had no intention of ever letting it go.

~∞~

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[queenofmistresses]

Hi!

If you haven't already written one x fem!reader fic with Colin with the "I miss you" scene from one of the teasers, could you do one then and have him call on her in a few days groveling or smth like that.

Anyway, no pressure to write it

A/N i’ve been fantasising about this since the teaser came out, absolutely I will write this thank you very much for the request!!

Spiteful

“The truth is, I miss you y/n.” He says, towering over me, it makes me scoff and roll my eyes. In truth, there is a part of me that wants to just give in and forget what happened, but the bigger -and more spiteful- part of me isn’t going to let that happen.

“You miss me but you would not court me is that correct?” I snap back, watching as it takes him by surprise and he looks at me confused. “I heard you at the end of last season, at my mama’s ball, saying you would never court Y/F/N.” Now he looks regretful but I’m taking none of it, I’ve had enough of being treated this way by him and the rest of the ton. “I am the laughing stock of entire ton no matter what lengths I take, it just never occurred to me that you, of all people, could be so cruel.” I practically snarl, something I never thought I was capable of, before turning and walking off to my carriage to take me back home.

I spent the next day as expected, waiting around for all of zero suitors to call on me. This season is shaping up to be just as the last, no prospects whatsoever. Looks like I will be a spinster as Cressida always said. I really had hoped to prove her wrong.

I didn’t even bother preparing myself for a potential suitor calling on me the day after, I knew it was pointless. I saw the lines of men pouring out of the houses surrounding mine, the most exciting part of my day was when breakfast was served. What? We have a great cook.

It’s the late afternoon now and I’m playing a game of chess with my papa, I’ve much improved recently and it looks like I might even win this time. Then I’m told I have a visitor, and my mama gets much too overexcited. I insist it is probably just a friend, a suitor would not come this late in the day surely?

Colin Bridgerton. Stood in my hall, looking like a puppy that’s been kicked rather brutally. Perhaps he feels like he has. He asks to take me to promenade and insists that he has brought his own chaperone. Honestly I think he’s acting rather strange. He had his opportunity to stop playing the pitying friend so why didn’t he take it? Why is he here?

He leads me to his carriage and, the gentleman he is, helps me inside. When we’re in the carriage I quickly realise that there is no chaperone. “I know how this looks but I swear I mean nothing untoward.” I level him with a glare, waiting for some kind of explanation for hiding wildly inappropriate behaviour. “I needed to talk to you in private and this was the only way. I- I need to apologise. I was wrong at your mama’s ball, I shouldn’t have been so cruel. It was unfair and- and it wasn’t because I think badly of you.” I raise an eyebrow, wanting to interrupt his ramblings but allowing him to continue. “I spent all of yesterday pacing around trying to figure out why I did it, why did I act that rash and respond the way I did. And I figured it out!” He looks at me almost excitedly. I gesture for him to continue.

“Go on then, why did you say what you did?” I ask flatly.

“Because they were right! Or at least I wanted them to be. Y/n I would be lucky if you allowed me to court you, I just had no idea that that was even what I wanted. The whole summer I was away I was consumed with thoughts of you. Every letter I wrote to you I prayed that you would respond, every day I didn’t receive a letter from you my heart would ache, and I had no idea as to why. Why it felt as though my very soul was missing you, needing you. I tried to ignore it, convincing myself I was merely homesick.” He scoffs at himself, he’s so far forward he’s barely on his seat anymore. “I have never wished to be home the way I have wished to be with you. You took over every part of my life, so much so it was inescapable, and truly, it became addictive.” He stares me dead in the eyes now and takes my hands in his. When did I stop breathing? “I know I have been cruel, I know I am not deserving of your forgiveness, let alone your love, but I beg you. I beg you take pity on me, let me try to make it up to you. I would give you the world if you asked for it, I would grovel at your feet in front of the entire ton if that is what you wished, you’ve become my reason to breathe, my reason to live, my everything. I could not carry on knowing I had hurt you so without paying penance for what I’ve done. Please, allow me to make it up to you.”

A pull in what air I can manage, trying to stop the tears streaming down my eyes. Even the most spiteful parts of my mind do not speak. Only a small part of my mind, one I have pressed down for many a year now whispers, ‘kiss him’. But I won’t, I won’t take that risk. What I do do though, is squeeze his hands gently. I try to muster up some kind of coherent sentence but I don’t think anyone could after that. I nod. “Okay.” He looks almost shocked, as if he didn’t just recite the most beautiful love confession I’ve ever heard to me. “Just, take it slow, okay?” I manage to get out.

He laughs, triumphantly, and squeezes my hand even tighter, thanking me far too much and swearing he will be the best suitor ever known. I believe him.

He does take me promenading, his mama chaperoning. It’s one of the nicest days I have. Now a part of me is really glad that the spiteful part of my mind couldn’t let it go.

[bradleyblog]

Bradley Uppercrust’s Father speculation Part Two

( Before reading part 2 I would recommend reading part 1 first )

From Part 1 we looked at Bradley’s conversation with Goofy about him not understanding the bond between a father and son and how Bradley responded to this statement. 

From the scene overall, I concluded that If Bradley doesn't seem to understand the bond between a father and his son , let alone understand why someone would pick family over success, it's likely that he doesn't even have a strong emotional bond with his own father to begin with. 

It can even imply that in his own family, success is always the top priority and that family isn’t even an expectation to this rule. 

This makes me believe that the root cause for Bradley’s lack of a bond with his dad is probably due to emotional neglect. Along with their family values of being successful and needing to appear to be the best, taking priority over his own emotions. 

If Bradley had a bond with his dad then there would at least be an emotional connection between them but it doesn't appear to be so. 

Throughout part 2 I will be discussing the idea of Bradley being emotionally neglected by his father but remember, this is all just speculation. 

Emotional neglect 

“Emotional neglect is the ongoing lack of emotional support, validation, and acknowledgment from a caregiver. It is a form of emotional abuse in which the caregiver doesn’t respond to or acknowledge their children’s emotions.” - www.makinwellness.com

If a parent Emotionally neglects their child, they fail to provide that child with attention , affection , engagement and other forms of emotional nurturing.

Now while I do understand that Bradley’s need for attention does stem from his own ego, him having emotional neglect from his father would certainly make him crave attention even more. A bit like him trying to overcompensate for the lack of attention his own dad didn’t give him by getting it from other people.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. What I just discussed here will be for a future part. 

But why would Bradley’s father of all people emotionally neglect his son? 

Well , I believe it’s because it’s very likely that Bradley’s father is a Narcissistic parent. It wouldn’t be too surprising considering how Bradley possesses some narcissistic traits himself but one common factor that I found about a narcissistic parent was the fact that they can be neglectful. 

“A narcissistic parent expects children to be present when needed , but will not provide support to children in return. They may also be so self-absorbed that their sole focus lies in their own hobbies or career. Narcissistic parents often seek instant gratification , leaving their kids to fend for themselves.”

Some other points about a narcissistic parent that I also came across were…

They need to be the center of attention 

They show little concern for others needs and feelings 

They are manipulative and Exploitative

Obsessed with maintaining the family’s image  

Their love is conditional 

They will do anything to be the best 

They are neglectful and never present when needed 

They are allowed to be emotional but you are not

If anyone wants to cheek the full list of 23 signs of a narcissistic parent , the link is shown below  

Narcissistic Parents: Traits, Signs, & How to Deal With One (choosingtherapy.com) 

These traits of a narcissistic father would certainly give a lot of reason as to why there might not be an emotional bond between Bradley and his dad. It would certainly make their relationship very emotionally distant/strained and make Bradley's father be presented as very self-absorbed and absent. 

But is Bradley’s dad really a narcissistic parent ? Well,  if he is emotionally neglecting Bradley then it’s not because he's a struggling parent with never ending bills to pay. They are super rich and decadents of royalty after all. And Even if Bradley’s dad is really busy with a super successful job , you would still make an effort to attend to your son’s emotional needs and to have a good bond with them. 

So to me , his father being self-centered makes the most logical sense as to why he could be emotionally neglectful of Bradley. 

But to really determine if Bradley’s dad is a narcissistic parent ,  we have to look at Bradley himself. 

Bradley has narcissistic traits and feels important due to his heritage. 

When Bradley declares who he is to Max , it's clear to see that he thinks highly of himself for being an Uppercrust. It’s his heritage that makes Bradley feel important, giving him an ego and in return makes him feel like he should be treated with admiration. 

Now obviously, being rich doesn't automatically determine that you're going to be narcissistic. But it is understandable as to why Bradley as a character would feel more important about himself due to him being a descendant of royalty. 

That being said though, if you were in Bradley’s shoes and were actually raised by good parents then they would surely keep your ego in check, teach you good values/morals and that you need to be compassionate and empathetic towards others. But Bradley doesn't seem to have any of this influence. 

As a person , Bradley is very success/ambition driven where it's his first priority and possesses narcissistic traits such as exploiting others for his own benefit, lack of empathy , having high self importance and a need for constant attention/admiration. 

But what would cause Bradley to have these narcissistic traits? His heritage for one and him valuing success over people but because his behavior never seemed to be corrected when he was growing up , It makes me think that these traits are also contributed by his upbringing. 

As in , his father was probably a bad role model and bad influence to him who taught him all the wrong things to value in life.  

But let’s look at what some of the causes of narcissism could be from a Physiology perspective. 

Here are some screenshots of my resources. 

( www.choosingtherapy.com ) 

( www.healthcentral.com )

Any of these causes could relate to Bradley but among these causes are “Learning narcissistic and manipulative behaviour from parents or peers”. In my opinion , Bradley learning narcissistic behaviour from his dad would be very likely due to their high status. But Something else to note is that neglect can also be a factor too. 

Well would you look at that, what a coincidence...

But in all seriousness though , if neglect can be one of the causes then it is possible that Bradley could have actually been neglected. 

But when we relate this to his dad , the only reason I can think of as to why Bradley’s dad would be neglectful of him is because he is indeed a narcissistic parent.  

Reason being is that If Bradley has narcissistic traits that aren't being discouraged from his family , nor does he have an emotional connection to his dad,  then him being emotionally neglected by a narcissistic father does seem the most likely. 

We also have to remember that Bradley is a descendant of royalty, which means their family probably have a lot of privileges. So it's highly likely that they have servants to do a lot of their manual labour and whose job it is to attend to their every request. Why bother taking care of your own child when he has servants to do it for him. 

So now that we have speculated that Bradley’s father is a narcissistic parent and could have  emotionally neglected Bradley , I think it’s important to talk about Bradley’s emotional state next but that will have to wait for part 3. 

There’s a lot more that I want to say but it was important to establish this all first before going forward.  

( For those who read part 1 , thank you all for the previous feedback )

[nickfowlerrr]

Hey! Such a fan of your work. Do you still take requests for pwyc Bucky? Is there any chance you could do a reader having a down day bit? Been having a hard time lately and I find so much of myself in her and Bucky soothes the soul. NO worries if not, or if you’re trying to enjoy the holidays and not be put on a downer. So grateful for your work x

pretty when you cry series masterlist

bad day

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. female receiving smut. comfort fic. if i’m missing something you think should be tagged, pls let me know!

words: 2.3k

notes: thank you so much for sending this in. i have been feeling much the same lately so i was really glad to write this little drabble. i hope you find some comfort in it and hopefully it can help brighten up your monday 🖤 sending you love and wishing you a happy holiday season, anon! and to everyone else who reads this, too. 🥰

“Sweetheart?”

Bucky’s voice called out into the silence of the house, receiving no answer in response. All the lights were off, letting him know you hadn’t been downstairs, at least not since the sun started to set.

He knew something was wrong, he had been feeling it all day. He was worried about you, texted you repeatedly and tried to call when he got a chance, but you didn’t answer. If he could have left that meeting with Stark earlier, he would have in a heartbeat. He’d been itching to get home since he started feeling something was off with you. Steve called him out on not paying attention to much of what was being said at the meeting, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was antsy and on edge, annoyed at every question he was asked and clearly irritated any time someone spoke directly to him. The only thing on his mind was you.

“Baby,” he called out, softer as he approached the door to your shared room.

He had no idea what was wrong, but the heaviness he had felt from you all day was starting to get near paralyzing. It was like you were overwhelmed and completely numb at the same time. All he wanted to do was comfort you, make you feel better. Whatever he could, whatever you needed him to do, he would do. He couldn’t take feeling this much longer knowing it was all radiating from you. You must’ve been drowning at that point, the weight of these unknown emotions hadn’t let up all day except the few times you had probably fallen asleep.

Still not getting a response from you, Bucky quietly opened the door and walked in to find you lying on the bed still in the pajamas you were wearing when he left you this morning. You were curled up on his side of the bed, cuddling with his pillow, a delicate pout on your lips as you stared at nothing, breathing steady. Your eyes were bleary when you looked up as he came in.

“Hi,” he said softly, moving to sit next to where you laid on the bed. His hand immediately going to your back, running it up and down soothingly.

You didn’t respond right away, instead letting go of his pillow that you’d been using as a surrogate for him, and grabbing his arm, urging him to lay with you. He got the hint right away and let you pull him down before he adjusted himself so he was facing you better. Your arms wrapped around him and you buried your face in his neck as he returned your embrace.

“Hi,” you mumbled against him.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“Noth-”

“Don’t say ‘nothing’,” he cut you off before you could finish replying.

You closed your mouth, thinking briefly before deciding not to answer.

Bucky allowed the silence as he returned to rubbing your back, taking a breath as the ache in his chest eased just the slightest.

“Bad day,” you finally responded quietly.

“That makes two of us,”

“Sorry,” you winced at the reminder that he was forced to feel what you had been feeling.

“Don’t be. All I wanted to do today was be here with you,” he assured you.

It was quiet again before he heard your small sniffling and the dampness of your cheeks on his skin as you nuzzled even further into him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, doll. I got you, you’re okay,” he cooed as he leaned down to place a kiss on top of your head.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ve been feeling this all week, I know you’ve been trying to push it off,”

“I just,” you took a breath before trailing off, not knowing how to explain properly.

“You can tell me anything,” he reminded you.

“I know, I just..”

All words left your head, any semblance of an explanation you could try and offer went flying right out of the window. Not being able to pinpoint it only made it that much worse. He was asking a sensible question. What was wrong?

What was wrong?

What is wrong? Why are you feeling like this?

Why don’t you have a single fucking idea as to why you’re feeling so…bad.

Your heartbeat picked up and so did your breathing. You were trying to find a reason, just one. But you couldn’t. You just felt like this. No real logic to it. You couldn’t give him an answer and you only made yourself feel worse knowing you were making him feel the same.

“I don’t know,” you cried, dejectedly into his neck. More tears falling freely now.

“Shhh,” he whispered into your hair, cradling you against him now. “It’s okay, baby. ‘S’okay.”

You calmed as he held you, feeling slightly better having acknowledged that you were feeling bad instead of fighting the feeling as it had been threatening to drag you down all week, trudging through each day and only finding any kind of reprieve when Bucky was near. Your breath was beginning to steady when he pulled you back from him slightly, looking in your glassy eyes before he gently wiped the remaining tears from your face and you leaned into his hand.

“Have you eaten today?” he questioned.

“No,” you answered, looking away from him, feeling embarrassed that you hadn’t really left your room at all. You had started getting ready in the morning, lazily brushed your teeth and even washed your face. You were going to get in the shower, but when you went to start it, decided to do it later. You just felt so tired still. You crawled back into bed and slept for another hour before you awoke. You felt even worse then. Bucky had left and you had no distractions from the black cloud that had been following you around lately. So you just let it storm over you. Sleeping on and off throughout the day and wallowing in self pity and despair when you were awake. Everything and nothing was wrong all at once. But now, as you were coming back to yourself, your lack of living today was clear and you felt stupid and lazy for it.

“I need to shower,” you mumbled, moving to get off of him. He held you down, keeping you in his embrace, not letting you up just yet.

“I’m gonna make you dinner, first,” he told you.

“Okay,” you allowed as you looked up at him to meet his eye, “Well, I can shower while you make it,” you suggested, thinking it was the obvious course of action.

“No,” he stated, with a shake of his head as he held your eye. You furrowed your brow in response. “We’re gonna shower after,” he told you.

“We?” you repeated softly, looking him in his eyes. The warmth and affection that swam in them was comforting as he nodded before pulling your face closer to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Then I’ll light a fire and we can watch that show you keep telling me about. How’s that sound?”

“Good,” you answered, nodding slightly. “Honestly…Anything’s good as long as you’re here,” you simpered.

“Someone’s feeling sappy,” he smirked, repeating the words you always shoot at him when he gets too sentimental or cheesy on you, earning a light eye roll and smile from you at his teasing as you laid your head back down on his chest, taking another moment to just relax in his arms.

“Actually, can we just.. I don’t know, order pizza? Then we can shower right now and just go downstairs to eat and watch the show when it gets here.”

He nodded in response.

“We can definitely do that,” he agreed, a relaxed smile on his face as he felt the heaviness slowly lifting from you.

You pulled yourself up again, this time he let you go as he sat up, grabbing his phone from his pocket to place your usual order. You wandered into the bathroom, starting the shower to let the water warm up before you began to slowly take your clothes off. You were stepping out of your sweats as Bucky came in behind you, tugging you to him. You leaned back against him as he hugged you before his hands found the hem of your tank top, slowly pulling it up and over your head. He nudged you toward the shower that was beginning to fog up already as he began to undress.

You stood under the water, the warmth helping you relax further. Your body felt so sore though you hadn’t done a thing all day. As Bucky got in with you, his arms wrapped around your waist and you sighed at the added relief he brought you. You stood there for a while, swaying in his arms slightly as the water fell on the both of you. Eventually, his arms slipped from around you and when his touch returned, he was gently washing your body, the suds of your soap slowly washing down your skin with the stream of water that was directly above you. Bucky placed soft kisses on every area of your body he washed for you, worshiping every inch of you. He knew you weren’t feeling great, but he wanted you to know how much he loved you - and how incredible you were to him. He needed you to know he would always be there for you, no matter what. On your best days and your worst. He wasn’t going anywhere.

It was like you could feel his love for you radiating off of him and it warmed you. You grabbed his hand as he dragged it back up your hip once you were done washing off. You turned to him and wrapped your own arms around his torso, your hands now traveling up and down his back as you rested your head on his chest. He didn’t force you to talk, didn’t need you to explain. He just understood. Intuitively, instinctively. He knew what you needed right now.

You needed someone to be there.

You were so used to being alone, relying on no one but yourself, but it got tiring after a while. Having no other choice but to stay strong. Things were different now and you knew that. You knew you had Bucky, and you knew you didn’t have to be so strong all the time, but old habits die hard.

When you were together like this, though, you were reminded that you could let yourself feel. It was okay to break down because he’d be right there to pick you back up.

“You okay, princess?”

“‘M’okay,” you nodded. “Bucky, I...Thank you,” you whispered as you looked up to him, one hand reaching up to touch him, your thumb stroking his cheek as your nails gently raked along his neck and into his hair before pulling him down to kiss him softly, lips brushing delicately before you kissed him a bit harder, pressing yourself closer to him.

“I love you,” you breathed against his lips.

“I love you,” he responded, leaning down to kiss you again.

You stayed like that for another minute, just holding each other.

You grimaced as your stomach suddenly grumbled, the hunger you hadn’t even noticed just an hour ago now making itself known.

“I think I might be hungry,” you admitted as Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what happens when you don’t eat all day,” he lightly admonished. “Let’s finish up in here, by the time we’re done the pizza should be here.”

“What do you mean ‘finish up’? I thought we were done?” you said, confused. You’d both washed up and rinsed off - hair and body. You had thought you were both ready to get out and dry off.

“No, I’m not done with you just yet,'' he said as his hand slipped down between your bodies, his knee nudging your legs apart carefully. You leaned further into him as his fingers found their way to your sensitive folds, rubbing you gently before he slipped two of his thick digits into your tight heat as you gasped and shuddered against him, keeping your balance by holding onto his shoulders while he cooed in your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you as he pumped his fingers expertly in and out of you, curling them perfectly, hitting your sweet spots just right as you let out breathy moans at the stimulation. His thumb began rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit as he coaxed you to your orgasm, working you through your high once the pleasure finally overtook you, the white hot warmth erupting through you as you held onto him, muscles tensing and thighs shaking as you came.

You were trying to catch your breath as he suddenly picked you up by your thighs, making you wrap them around his waist. He kissed you again, stealing your breath as he did before you pulled away, nearly gasping as you rested your forehead against his.

“How long do we have until they get here?”

“Long enough,” he breathed huskily, crashing his lips into yours once again. You moaned into his mouth, mewling as you felt his erection throbbing against you, nearly teasing your entrance with the angle he was holding you at.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he said as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“You,” you sighed. “I want you.”

You pulled his face back to yours, kissing him as gently as you could, trying to get across how grateful you were that he was there, and how much love you had for him, how much you felt for him as he held you so surely, so securely in his arms.

“Always you.”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Take What You Give

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: fingering, hella dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, DP kinda- it's with his tail so there's that, praise praise praise, unprotected p in v, creampie, kinda cockwarming also- I think that's everything lol

Genre: smut with the tiniest bits of fluff

Summary: after a dreadfully boring date you know the perfect way to unwind

A/N: Someone on tiktok called Nightcrawler community dick and this idea popped into my head because of it lmaoo

***

You're bored. You're on a date with the least interesting person you've ever met in your life and oh GOD you are bored. You feel bad, he's cute and seems like a nice person but none of your conversations have been stimulating this whole time. You're trying to give a real and honest chance before you quit on this and leave. Although you'll admit you're already making plans for after this date so maybe you've checked out at this point. When he starts telling a story about a nightmarish party his college roommates held years ago you practically leap from your chair.

"Sorry to interrupt, I need to use the restroom." You tell him. You don't wait for him to respond before you rush off to find the bathroom. You allow yourself five minutes to come up with a plan ultimately setting a timer before heading back to your table. "Sorry about that. Please, continue." You say with a smile.

"All good?" He asks.

"Yes. Thank you." You say and he continues his story. Twelve minutes later, the alarm on your phone goes off. "Hang on let me just- sorry I have to take this." You mutter angling your phone away from his view as you fake a phone call. "Hello? ... No I'm out, why is everything okay? ... what?! ... Do you need me to come and get you? ... don't be silly of course I'll come. I'm on my way, alright? ... See you soon. Hang in there." You pace out your responses to your imaginary call. "Dillan I'm so sorry my friend is- in a bit of trouble and really needs my help. I hate to bail but it can't wait." You grimace as convincingly as you can.

"Is everything alright? Do you need-"

"I'm alright. We'll take care of it. I just have to go now, but tonight has been fun. I'll call you!" You say standing up. You will not be calling him.

"Yeah I had a great time. I hope things with your friend turn out fine." He says standing with you. You leave the restaurant with one more muttered goodbye and roll your eyes once you're down the block. Time to solidify your plans for the rest of your evening. You dial the number you haven't used in some time- a few months you think but no matter.

"Liebling." His voice is a little breathless when he answers.

"Hi Kurt." You say.

"It's been a while." You can hear the smile in Kurt's voice.

"I'm a busy woman Wagner and you have quite the schedule yourself. Are you engaged for the evening?"

"I can make myself unengaged."

"Don't trouble yourself Kurt."

"For you my dear it's never trouble. When do you want to see me?"

"Whenever you can unengage yourself and get here is fine. I'm not in any particular rush." You tell him.

"I'll see you in an hour. Ish. Be ready."

"Already am." You say suggestively before hanging up the phone. You catch the beginning of what, knowing Kurt, was probably a swear and you chuckle to yourself as you make your way home.

At home, you take off your makeup and the dress you wore and change into some pretty lacy lingerie. Kurt is quite fond of your collection, he says taking them off feels like unwrapping a present he's been dying to receive for months. He's quite dramatic, but you don't see him often so it's easy to enjoy giving him that little treat when you call on him. It's not yet an hour later when he materializes in your bedroom where you're reading leisurely.

"Hello darling." He smiles.

"You're early." You match the grin on his face.

"I said 'ish' plus I hate to keep you waiting." He shrugs.

"Always so sweet to me." You hum marking your place in your book and placing it on the nightstand beside you.

"Do you work tomorrow?" Kurt asks.

"No." 

"Good." He says and then he's over you, holding himself up with one hand while his other cups your face. "You smell of cologne."

"Bad date." You mutter tugging him down to connect his lips to yours. The kiss doesn't last long, you feel him smile against your lips before pulling away.

"Happy to help you forget about it darling but you should call on me more often if you're feeling lonely." 

"If you're worried I'm replacing you Kurt don't be. You'll always be my favorite." You wink at him pulling him in for another kiss. This one he doesn't break, his tongue slipping into your mouth, dominating the kiss quickly. His hands are up your sides nails slightly dragging against your skin enough to send shivers through you. You back away from him enough to tug his shirt over his head, sliding your fingers down his patterned chest.

"I'll always be your favorite hm?" He smirks kissing down your neck.

"Of course my shadow jumper." You whimper when his mouth focuses on a spot against your throat, one of your hands sliding into his hair.

"You know you're my favorite don't you liebling?" He hums into your skin.

"Never had a doubt." You giggle.

"Good girl." His lips trail further, kissing the swell of your best just over the edge of your bra. "I think this might be my favorite set on you too by the way." He says sitting back and pulling you with him so he can unhook the lacy number.

"You say that every time you're here Kurt." You remind him.

"Every time I'm here you unlock a new type of perfection." He winks dipping his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples as he lays you back against your pillows.

"You're such a flatterer." You say jokingly but a moan punctuates the sentence as Kurt's teasing tongue against your chest tugs at something deep within you. Your back arches towards him your fingers burying themselves in his hair again. Kurt's tail slides up your leg, making you squirm even more and he uses the extra appendage to pull your panties down your body. That tail wraps around one of your ankles, keeping your legs spread for the hand that slides down your abdomen. When his fingers reach the apex of your thighs you're breathing hitches before he's even touched you.

"Always so ready for me, pretty girl." Kurt chuckles. He plunges two fingers into you quickly, curling them in just the right way to have you grinding against his hand. His fingers pump in and out of you with deliberate thrusts, stretching you for him. "Heaven help me, you're absolutely soaking." Kurt hisses, your juices flowing over his hand.

"Fuck babe- I'm close." You pant out, arching into his hand as you chase your end.

"That's it liebling, let go for me." Kurt coaxes softly before leaning forward to take your clit between his lips. He sucks harshly on the bundle of nerves and the sudden stimulation sends you over the edge with a whine. He works you through it with gentle licks and slow pumps of his fingers, watching the way your face shifts between the stages of your pleasure. When you let out a long albeit shaky breath he pulls away, knowing that loud unsteady release of air means you're back in your body. "Oh how I love making you do that." He says pressing a kiss to your lips before placing his sticky fingers into his mouth. The groan he lets out at your taste flooding his tongue is pornographic. There's no other way to describe it, and a fresh wave of arousal washes over you at the sound. You watch him clean his fingers with a darkened look that he relishes in. That carnal desire in your eyes focused solely on him, he'll never get tired of it. When the essence of you no longer coats his digits he pulls them out with a satisfying pop.

"Skipping your usual protocol today?" You ask with a teasing smile. You'd have no qualms if he did but Nightcrawler is one of those makes you cum a dozen times for his own enjoyment types who has never passed up the opportunity to eat you out before fucking you.

"And allow the sweetest nectar to go to waste? Don't insult me." He scoffs shifting himself to lie between your legs. He wastes no time pulling you towards his waiting mouth and allowing his tongue to dive into your center. Your fingers are in his ink-colored hair moments later, desperate to ground yourself as he devours you like his final meal.

His tongue thrusts in and out of you, slurping the juices that spill from you, moaning as your arousal washes over every inch of his mouth. The sounds from him reverberate against your skin only furthering your madness as Kurt takes you apart one lick, one slurp, one suck at a time. When your legs begin to shake, he brings his hands up to hold your thighs still, digging his fingers into the flesh there as he feasts. Your first orgasm on his tongue meets you with a loud moan and barely contained thrashing that does nothing to slow Kurt. You jerk against his still seeking mouth, but his hold on your thighs simply tightens as he continues his onslaught.

"God! Kurt- please!" You cry out though you're not sure if you're asking him to stop or continue. As if it matters, Kurt will go until he's satisfied which with him could literally be hours. With Kurt there's no such thing as too much, he can go and go and go shattering you into a million pieces just to put you back together so he can do it all over again. And you let him. You relish in the bite of overstimulation that soon melts away to pure pleasure again as his tongue forces another orgasm from you. This one takes you by surprise as you pull at the strands between your fingers, your body convulsing harshly.

Kurt's eyes meet yours and he winks at you as he pulls you tighter against his mouth. His tongue focusing now on your too sensitive clit. You writhe against him, caught between escaping and searching for more as you squeal from his ministrations. When a scream Kurt would describe as piercing falls from your lips and your third orgasm coats his tongue he finally gives you a break, working you through your release before sitting up.

"When I asked if we were skipping your protocol it wasn't a challenge." You eventually huff at him, once your chest stops heaving so hard you thought you'd never get enough air in your lungs.

"Tapping out already? I've given you much more in one go before. Perhaps I should be checking on you more often liebling." Kurt smirks as he wipes his face.

"Tapping out? Before you've even fucked me? It's like you don't know me at all anymore sweet one." You tease back.

"That's my girl." Kurt chuckles shucking his pants off before sinking into you. Between your breathless moan and the feeling of your walls pulsing around him Kurt can't help but groan when he bottoms out. He holds still for a moment allowing both you and him to adjust to your heat swallowing his length. With a deep breath, his hips rock back, almost all the way, and then he thrusts into you so harshly that he shifts you on the bed. He settles his hands on your hips then and sets a brutal rhythm, his hips snapping against yours relentlessly.

"Holy- fuck." You grit out, tossing your head back against the bed. Kurt always fills you to the point where it's almost too much, you can feel him everywhere somehow but oh how you love it. Your nails scrape down Kurt's back as you cling to him while he fucks you ruthlessly.

"So good. You feel so good liebling." He huffs out between his thrusts.

"So do you, god- you fuck me so well. Fill me so nicely."

"I know I do pretty one, this pussy loves taking my dick. Does it so well each time. Isn't that right baby?"

"Yeah- yes- love it so much." You whimper when Kurt's tail slips between your bodies and finds your clit. The extra appendage is as dexterous as his fingers and the swollen bundle of nerves reacts to it the same way, luring you to another orgasm that has you shuddering in Kurt's arms. His tail continues to poke around near where you and Kurt are joined, his hips not slowing even with his tail in the mix. It's something he's done before, not often- but it seems tonight he's pulling out all the stops. The tip of his tail is gathering your wetness, covering itself to prepare for entering you at the other end. Kurt lifts your hips further into him, holding you high enough for his tail to get under you and slowly prod your ass.

"Gonna stuff you proper tonight." Kurt mutters before his tail breeches you. Your gasping whine at the sudden intrusion only fuels Kurt more. His tail quickly matches his hips in rhythm filling you in both holes, clouding your mind. You're a mess of moans and whines as Kurt has his way with you. He pulls one or two more orgasms from you before he's spilling into you with a roar. He doesn't even bother pulling out before lays beside you and pulls you tightly against him. He kisses your forehead softly and whispers something in German that you don't know the meaning of. It's fine he'll be here a while. With Kurt it's never one and done. He'll pull more orgasms from you until you've completely lost count, until all you know is his name and the pleasure he's giving you, until the world has been flipped on its axis and you along with it. It happens every time and that's exactly why you call him when you do.

***

[adverbally]

Slow, So Slow, I Fell to the Ground on My Knees

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Terrible Things - Mayday Parade” | wc: 1,002 | rated: T | cw: dustin in peril, hospital | tags: canon divergent, what if Dustin came back to help Eddie buy time, no I couldn’t bring myself to actually kill Dustin, meditation on guilt and love and responsibility, not as sophisticated as that sounds, pre-steddie, hopeful ending

———

Eddie probably doesn’t have any right to be here.

After all, it’s his fault Dustin was so determined to get back to the Upside Down. If Eddie had just followed him up the rope instead of cutting it, they both would have been safe. Instead, he played right into Dustin’s need to know what’s going on, created a puzzle that Dustin just had to solve.

Eddie should’ve known that Dustin would find a way, but it didn’t occur to him. All he thought of was his own pride, his own vow to stop running. It wasn’t until he heard Dustin shouting his name, running into the swarm of demobats alongside him, that the horrible reality of the situation set in. Not only would Eddie die, but he would take Dustin– sweet, stubborn, loyal Dustin– down with him.

By some miracle, Steve, Nancy, and Robin had shown up just in time to save them both. They had dragged them back to their own world, done what little first aid they could manage, and got them help. But the damage was done.

Eddie had held Dustin, told him everything would be okay even as blood oozed out of his mouth. Even as Dustin grew weaker, and his voice got softer, he apologized to Eddie with tears in his eyes. It still makes Eddie sick to remember how sincere he had sounded, saying he wished Eddie had never been dragged into this and he was sorry to leave him like this.

Standing at the foot of Dustin’s hospital bed, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat on the monitor, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, Eddie still can’t shake the guilt. He was an adult, it was his job to watch out for Dustin and keep him out of danger.

As with everything else in his life, Eddie had failed miserably.

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

The voice is soft, coming from a dark corner of the room, but Eddie still startles. “Jesus!” he gasps, clutching his chest.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure whether I should interrupt.” Is that…? Yep, Steve Harrington himself rises up from the stiff-backed chair, still moving a little gingerly, and moves into the pool of light that gently illuminates Dustin’s bed.

Eddie looks down at the scuffed, shiny linoleum. “I, um, didn’t expect anybody to be here.” It’s late, technically past visiting hours, but Mrs. Henderson’s job with the hospital has allowed them some flexibility as long as they keep it quiet.

“His mom is on the night shift. I didn’t want him to be alone.” He explains it so simply, like it goes without saying that Steve would be the one to step in. Maybe it does. Whether it’s because it’s Henderson or because Steve would do the same for any of them, Eddie can’t say, but he hopes Steve would have stayed with him too if he had been the one in the bed.

“You really care about him a lot, huh?”

Steve doesn’t respond for a long time. When Eddie glances up, he looks… not sad, exactly, but serious. “Yeah, I do,” he eventually says, hushed in the quiet of the room.

Eddie already knows, of course. Even before all of this Vecna bullshit, Dustin’s ravings had included a lot of references to the things Steve did for him. Not just shit like dropping him off at the arcade. Helping him get ready for the Snow Ball. Giving him advice about his relationship with Suzy. Bringing him soup and crackers and Sprite when he was sick and his mom was stuck at work. Steve had already started teaching him how to drive, for God’s sake.

He’s seen it for himself, too. He can never forget the moment when Steve realized that Dustin had been hurt so badly. How he’d taken one look at Dustin’s pale, blank face and collapsed to his knees, his eyes wide with horror, and let out the most spine-chilling noise Eddie has ever heard. It was the sound of some animal kind of grief, something so deep that Steve wasn’t even conscious of it. Eddie still hears it in his nightmares.

Yeah, it’s obvious that Steve cares about Dustin. Loves him, even. Like a little brother, almost like a son.

Eddie wishes he could love someone like that. Standing in that field, telling him, “Never change, Dustin Henderson,” it felt like he already did. As if he had any idea what love meant outside of family and excuses and obligations. As if he even knew Dustin at all. What Eddie does know is that he would have sacrificed himself in a heartbeat if it would protect Dustin. He hopes Dustin will wake up soon so he can tell him that.

And here comes the guilt again, curdling in his stomach. Eddie braces his hands against the footboard of the hospital bed, leaning over to look down at the knit pattern of the blanket covering Dustin’s feet. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep him safe,” he says, to Steve, to Dustin, to anyone who might be listening.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Steve sighs. “Nobody blames you. Dustin definitely won’t.”

“I do,” Eddie scoffs.

“Then you’re wrong.” Steve steps closer and rests a hand over Eddie’s on the bed railing. “Trust me, I’ve been there. You did your best in a really shitty situation.” When Eddie looks up at him through blurry eyes, Steve’s expression is soft. “I know it’s hard to believe it at first, so I’ll keep reminding you until it sticks.”

Eddie clenches his jaw and nods. He doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak. Instead, he twists his hand underneath Steve’s, putting them palm to palm and threading their fingers together.

They stay there like that until Eddie can’t stand for much longer, and then Steve drags him over to the pair of chairs in the corner.

They’re still holding hands when they drift off, shoulders and heads slumped together as they keep their vigil.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ok so, before the indigo disk released I heard there was going to be people with competitive movesets, so before it released I literally made myself an entire competitive team. IM A CASUAL PLAYER 😭😭 and I just think it’d be really funny that carmine and kieran would probably think i’m just gonna stroll up with my usual team but nope swords dance + scale shot 💃 if you could write their reactions to the new squad I just think it’d be funny lmao

(If you want the team I made for reference, it was koraidon, ogerpon, chien-pao, blood moon ursaluna, armarouge, and a shiny slither wing because I felt like having a shiny so I hunted one lol)

- 🪑🥚

Bro I went into the Indigo Disk 100% blind so you can imagine my shock when I realized double battles were gonna be everywhere </3

I mostly had a "fuck it we ball" mentality going through it (which made some battles go on for WAY too long), but later I taught my Ceruledge Poltergeist when I realized almost every NPC in the dlc uses held items.

Funny enough Ogerpon (with Spiky Shield) and BM Ursaluna were on my team. He was an absolute TANK with the assault vest and he knocked out Hydrapple with a Moonblast

Anyways enough rambling and onto the request!

......

Kieran

He was expecting your usual team when you started challenging the BB Elite Four, rolling his eyes at the thought of you trying to use the same old tactics to defeat him.

But he's changed. He's gotten stronger and wanted you to be surprised by what he can do now.

Instead, though, when you arrive to the championship battle...not only did you bring out Ogerpon with her teal mask to (supposedly) insult him, but you also had Chien-Pao, which may spell trouble for his Dragonite.

He'll admit, you were clever to bring a Pokémon who could lower the defense of all the others and cut their HP in half with Ruination..but he doesn't give up yet.

Seeing a shiny that looked like a Volcarona but fluffier was certainly bewildering--as is the Bloodmoon Ursaluna you managed to tame back in Kitakami and the Armarouge who sets up a Psychic Terrain to boost its Expanding Force, allowing it to hit two of his Pokémon at once.

Oh, and apparently you have not one but TWO Koraidons, with the one you brought into battle being more brash and a fierce fighter in its Apex build.

You set that one up with a Swords Dance + Scale Shot combo that absolutely kicks ass, somehow striking your opponents 4-5 times whenever you command it.

Kieran's certainly gotten smarter about his team, but so have you, and he's livid about it.

It was like you enjoyed knocking him down over and over again...yet he can't hear the reluctance in your voice as you utter the final move that finishes off his Hydrapple.

You knew you had to win. He needed to be humbled.

But it didn't feel good at all as you watched him crumble and Drayton rub his loss in his face.

Carmine

When you battled her, she (like her brother) expected to see some familiar faces on your team.

Yet you surprised her (in a good way, very much unlike her brother) with Ogerpon, and she smiles and asks if she missed her, with the legendary responding with a small hop and a happy trill....

Followed by a devastating Ivy Cudgel that lands a critical hit on her Pokémon.

Yeah, she can definitely tell you've been training the Ogre a lot, but she's proud of how confident she's grown nevertheless.

Seeing you have both Chien-Pao and another Koraidon working in tandem is impressive, especially with that Ruination + Swords Dance + Scale Shot combo you pulled.

BM Ursaluna and Shiny Slither Wing are the only two that genuinely shock Carmine, as she's only seen one in myths and the other....she's never seen in her entire life.

But after the trip to Area Zero, she understands Slither Wings better (although she's amazed you managed to find a shiny down there).

Either way, those two are powerhouses.

She remembered you talking about a little lonely Charcadet you found during an outbreak, and to see it has grown up into a mighty Armarouge was such a sweet thing to see.

You clearly took the time to plan out your team before coming to the Blueberry Academy.

Carmine found your battle to be fun.

Although she can't exactly say Kieran will feel the same way..considering Ogerpon is with you and you have some new tricks up your sleeve.

But she figured he oughta find that out for himself.