#i miss henry so much i need more content of him

[kokillchi]

I NEED MORE BTS PICS OF HENRY

[lavenderspence]

A bunch of cuties in love | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, nicknames (i think that's about it?)

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Running late to a meeting with Strauss, Hotch leaves Jack with his favorite person - you. The scene that greets him when he comes back leads to some realizations. 

Request: Hotch request: BAU!Reader is Jack’s favorite and always spends the day with them when he’s brought along to the office. They have a cute bonding moment that Hotch secretly watches. Cue the “oh god I’m in love with them aren’t I”

A/N: it’s been two months today since I made this blog, and it’s been wild, it’s been fun, and it’s been a little teary. thank you for the love and support! Please enjoy this cute little hotch piece, I had a blast writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this, and I’d love to hear what you think! Also, I miss old Disney😭

masterlist

9:23.

On the days you weren’t working on a case, and the only thing you really needed to catch up on was paperwork, your usual start time was 8:30. Yet almost an hour had gone by and he wasn’t in his office like he usually would be.

With a punctual Unit Chief like Aaron Hotchner, it was a shock, and a little nerve-wracking that he was late. 

You’d lie if you didn’t say you were getting a little worried, taking into account the last and only time he’d been late - Foyet attacking him in his own home, leaving him with long-lasting trauma, scars, and without his family. 

You'd never forget that day, and every day after where he was left to suffer, laying the blame on himself. No matter how many times you said it, how many times Rossi patted him on the back, reminding him it wasn't his fault, you knew a part of him still didn't believe it.

And the part of you that cared about him, maybe a little more than you should, didn't have the heart to watch him do this to himself - the silent guilt, the long empty looks. 

You’ve known him awhile, seen him through many of his ups, and just as many as his downs. You’d seen him laugh in glee and beam with happiness, you’d seen him lose it in anger and anguish and you’d seen him cry in heartbreak. 

So much of your life spent beside him, so many memories linked with him, and your team. And much of it you knew was friendly love - your love for Emily and Spencer, JJ and Morgan, Penelope and Rossi. But the love you felt for him was just a tiny bit different, deeper, not the friendly kind. 

You’d only recently started to understand what you were really feeling for him, as recent as the last few weeks. Still new and a little unexplainable at times, you were learning to balance that, within your friendship.

You didn’t think you wanted to pursue anything, right now. It had been a little over two years since he’d lost Haley, since he’d needed to start navigating his life as a single dad, a widower. 

You could still see the pain in his eyes, fresh as the day it had happened. You knew he was managing, but it was still apparent, that it was hitting them both hard.

And Jack? He was a little ray of sunshine in the otherwise gruesome life all of you led - the same could be said about Henry. But Henry was Reid's favorite, as his godfather, you knew the bond between them was unbreakable. 

But Jack? You were his favorite, and he was yours. 

He was your little buddy, your partner in all things art, cartoons, and Disney shows. He was your little helper during all things baking - you'd babysat once and he'd requested chocolate chip, peanut butter cookies and you'd been more than happy to help him make them.

He was a natural baker and a little taster. 

Your love for the little cutie ran as deep as your feelings for his dad.

At the end of the day though, you were a friend, a shoulder both could use to lean on and rely on. You were comfortable in your role within their little family and weren't looking to make any changes then.

9:28.

You were playing with your watch, already having decided you’d be giving him a call if he didn't arrive by 9:30.

Worry was making your hands sweat, and just as you went to wipe them on your pants, the door to the bullpen opened, and in walked a very frantic Hotch - his tie was a little crooked, shirt a little wrinkled, and Jack - a little backpack on his back, and a curious look paired with a timid smile.

Aaron's eyes searched the bullpen, as did Jack's, the little Hotchner noticing you seconds before his father did. You stood up, watching as the blond pulled away from his dad, and on a little run, made his way towards you. 

“Cutiee.” He called out, using the nickname you called him, to address you too. You leaned down when he was a few steps away, accepting his hug, his little arms wrapping around your neck. 

“Hi, cutie.” You greeted him, a wide smile on your face. Hotch had made his way over to you by then, giving you a barely-there smile, but his eyes shone.

“You're late.” You started, pulling to your full height.

“Yeah, Jessica was called on an emergency at the last minute, and Liah is away on a hiking trip, so here we are.” Liah was Hotch's neighbor, she looked after Jack for a few hours when Hotch couldn't stay with him, or Jess was busy.

He looked at his watch, running a hand through his hair, messing it up a little.

“I have a meeting with Strauss…well, right now. Can you please watch him until I get done?” 

“Go, don't make her wait. We'll be okay and we're going to have fun. Right, Jack?” You watched him nod at both you and his dad before Hotch exhaled.

“You're a lifesaver. Be good for Y/N, okay buddy.” Another nod from Jack, and he was on his way to Strauss's office.

‘’Okay Jack, let's see if Aunt Penelope can download a few episodes of ‘The Suite Life’ for us, and then we'll go color and draw for a while. Does that sound good to you?” 

“Very good. Can I also have orange juice?” He asked, taking your hand in his small, soft one, fingers wrapping around your own.

“Let's go see if we have any.” You walked towards the small communal kitchen space, checking the fridge and then you checked the pantry…and, “Bingo. Let's go see the lair.” You led him to Penelope's office.

“Knock, knock, may us mortals enter?” You joked, making your little partner giggle. 

“Us?” Her voice rang from the other side of the door.

“I have sir Hotchner with me. The smaller one.”

“Hey,” Jack said in outrage

“My favorite Hotchner.” You added.

Penelope pulled the door open, beaming at both of you, before she made space for you to enter. 

“Jack, my love, hi,” She raised her hand, letting him give her a high five. Even though she was affectionate, Jack wasn’t as much, especially after Haley. He only hugged a few people now - Jess, his dad, and surprisingly, you. 

It really showed how comfortable he was with you.

“What brings you to my tech cave?” She asked. You raised your brows at him, prompting him to do the talking. 

“Can you, please, download a few episodes of Zack and Cody for us?” His voice rang with its usual child calm and sweetness, fingers intertwined in front of him. 

Penelope's smile softened even more, “Sure thing, sweetie,” Her eyes turned towards you then, “Your tablet?”

“Yes, please.” You knew it was a work tablet, but no one had to know.

“Any requests?” She asked the little guy.

“You pick.”

“Okay-dokey. Should have it in about 10 minutes, my loves.”

“Thank you, Aunt Penelope.”

“Thanks Pen.” You gave her air kisses before you led Jack out and towards his father's office. 

His day had started rocky, hell, the whole night had gone that way. 

Jack had woken up from a nightmare - twice at that. After the second time, he’d asked Aaron to sleep in his bed, too scared and sad to stay in his room.

He’d snoozed his alarm, just once, and had a hard time waking his son up too. He’d had 20 minutes to get himself ready, but Jessica had called 10 minutes before she was supposed to arrive - apologizing because she’d been called on an emergency at work. 

Aaron had to rearrange his whole morning then, already aware he’d be late for work. He’d had to get Jack and his backpack ready and cook him breakfast. All of that, and be in the office before his 9:30 meeting with Strauss. 

Breakfast and preparing Jack for a day at the BAU, he’d done successfully. Arriving on time had been a little tricky, with barely 2 minutes to spare. 

But when he’d walked into the bullpen, Jack spotting you just seconds before he did, and he’d watched your smile grow, he’d known all would be okay. 

Watching you with Jack always brought a warm feeling within him, like he was watching something sacred. You were always patient and kind, always interested in listening to him talk, even though he was a quiet kid, who appreciated quality time more. 

You gave him that too, and a lot of it - you watched cartoons and shows with him. Colored and drew, baked cookies, and played with him whenever he wanted. Any time spent with Jack was about what he wanted, what he liked doing, and above all, making him comfortable. 

Even if it meant cleaning flour off your kitchen floor and whatever had gotten in the drawers too. 

He appreciated, even loved the bond you had with his son, every smile, every hug, and every minute you spend with him. He loved hearing about you from Jack - what you’d done together, what you’d told him, the stories, the jokes, the conversations. 

Hearing his son proclaim you as his favorite person in the BAU had made his heart soar. Taking into account all the time you spent with him, it wasn’t really a surprise. He bonded hard, but once he did, he never went back.

He was much like Aaron himself in that regard. His trust had to be earned, as did his friendship, and it required hard work. Jack was much the same. And you’d successfully earned both of theirs with your beautiful and caring personality. 

He exhaled a breath, checking his watch, step fast, and briefcase in hand. 

11:18.

His meeting with Strauss had run longer than he’d anticipated - over an hour and a half. Diplomacy, politics, budgets, and cuts, they’d run through countless things, half of that meeting already fully blacked out from his memory. 

He was tired - every meeting with Strauss left him drained. Worried,  about Jack and his state of mind after last night. All he wanted to do was get to his office and check up on his son. 

Walking into the bullpen for the second time that day, he quickly made his way towards his office, only to stop short at the window. The blinds were open, having forgotten to close them last night, so he had a clear and full view of his office.

You were sat on the couch close to the armrest, Jack cuddled against you, cheek squished against your collarbone, face almost buried in your neck. 

Your work tablet sat propped on the coffee table, and your arm wrapped around his small body, keeping him close. His eyes were almost closed, your thumb running soothingly on his back. 

He watched, mesmerized by the scene. He felt himself soften, all of him. His face, the furrow in his brow, and the tight set of his lips. His whole body, his heart, suddenly at peace. 

For months he'd observed the kindness you showed everyone - the families of victims, heartbroken by the injustice of life. Passersby, people you might never see again. Your team, especially, your work family. Jack, and even Aaron himself. 

And as he watched you with his son, the one person left in this world who truly loved him, no matter his rights or wrongs - he couldn't help but feel himself unravel. 

Every little thought he'd had about you, every feeling he might have somehow suppressed in order to protect himself and his child, they all attacked him, in seconds. 

Because the truth was, you earned his trust, his friendship, and somehow along the way, you'd won his heart as well.

Right at that moment, his heart pounded in need, in adoration, in pure, clear love. Love he hadn't allowed himself to feel since Haley. Love, he'd frankly hadn't felt in years, ever since he’d put his signature down on the dotted line. 

He wanted to get home to see this. He wanted to see you put Jack to bed, and kiss his forehead with a whispered ‘good night’.

He wanted to stroke your cheek tenderly, pull you into a kiss that made you melt, and stroke a fire within you like no one else could. 

He wanted to tell you he loved you - in the car, as he drove you to work. In the kitchen during breakfast and dinner. In his office, a few stolen moments as you worked. And under the sheets, while you made love. 

And even through the fear that gripped him in a vice, of rejection, separation, and even trust - he still wanted to love you, as if he was loving someone for the first time again. 

“Everything okay, Aaron?” David asked, passing on the way to his office. 

Aaron barely spared him a glance, nodding his head a little, “Yeah, it's okay.”

He pushed the door to his office open and walked in, greeted by his new favorite sight, and his two favorite people. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1260 words

this is part one of this blurb! the next part will be smut! this was supposed to one whole blurb, but unfortunately, i can't stop adding details

A week had passed since that toe-curling, heart stopping kiss with James, yet the memory clung to you, refusing to loosen its grip. Every moment replayed in your mind—the way his breath had mingled with yours, the warmth of his lips, the intoxicating mix of hesitation and desire that had crackled between you. It was impossible to shake, no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind.

But life, as it often does, had intervened. Work had been intense for both of you. His late nights at the office, followed by early morning school drop-offs, and your endless deadlines and marathon meetings had drained you both, leaving little room for anything else—especially the conversation you so desperately needed.

But you were hoping tonight would be different. He’d asked if you could watch Henry, and you’d never refused him before. And you weren’t about to start now.

“Darling?” Henry mumbled, his voice carrying that endearing tone that always made you smile. As he grew older, the nickname was losing its childish lisp, becoming clearer and more deliberate with each passing day. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it, knowing it would bring you to tears. And as much as it weighed on you, you couldn't even begin to imagine how James was feeling.

“Yeah, my love?” You hummed, your eyes still fixed on The Rescuers playing on the TV. Henry had insisted on watching it in James’s room because he wanted to “see the mice all big.” At first, you hesitated, unsure if being surrounded by James’s scent was a good idea. But Henry’s excitement was impossible to resist, and you found yourself giving in, despite your nerves.

“When is daddy back?”

“Um,” You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Soon I would think.”

“Oh.” Henry murmurs, shifting closer to cuddle into your side, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp yours. The two of you are nestled under the dark duvet, surrounded by the seven stuffed animals he insisted on bringing along. “I miss him,” he whispers, his voice tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” You say, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with those unmistakable eyes—his father’s eyes—brown and sweet, carrying the same warmth that James’ have. His dark curls fall messily across his forehead, a mirror of James’s unruly hair. Even the curve of his smile, so innocent yet so familiar, pulls at your heart. It’s impossible not to see James in every feature, every expression, and every little gesture Henry makes. 

All you can think about is James.

“Do you miss daddy?” Your lips part, flustered and caught off guard by the question. For a second you debate lying, but you realize there’s no point. 

“Yes, I miss him too.” You finally murmur, and Henry’s face lights up with a grin, as if he’s just heard the most wonderful thing. He turns his gaze back to the TV, his attention returning to the movie, while he snuggles his stuffed dinosaur tightly in the hand that isn’t holding yours. The sight of him, so content and secure, tugs at your heart.

The movie has long finished and another has begun, but you’re oblivious to it all. Henry is fast asleep, nestled into your side, and you’re not far behind. Your focus is solely on threading your fingers gently through Henry’s dark curls. The rhythmic motion that had soothed him to sleep now lulls you as well, your eyes growing heavy with each tender stroke.

“Hey.” James murmurs with a warm, inviting smile, immediately drawing your gaze to the doorway where he stands. His white button-up shirt is casually open at the collar, the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and as he crosses his arms, the fabric tightens over his biceps, accentuating their firm definition. Your eyes slowly trace down to his forearms, where the veins are subtly prominent. The combination of his relaxed stance and the his snug shirt makes your pulse quicken.

You resist the urge to fan yourself.

You swallow hard, struggling to pull your gaze back up. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grins, and you know instantly he’s caught you. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks, walking further into his room, glancing down at the stuffies with a soft chuckle

“Henry missed you,” You say softly. “That and he wanted to watch a movie on the big TV.”

“Of course he did.” James says with a soft, knowing tone. He rounds the bed and settles next the side closest to Henry. With a gentle touch, he brushes a few stray curls from his son's forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then, leaning down, he places a tender kiss on Henry’s forehead.

“I’m going to put him to bed.” James says softly, his voice soft as he looks up at you from his kneeling position by the bed. You nod quickly, your words caught in your throat.

You watch as James moves with practiced ease, sliding one hand tenderly behind Henry’s back and slipping the other under his knees. He lifts him carefully, his movements gentle yet confident, raising Henry up and off your chest. As he does, Henry lets out a soft whine, his small face scrunching up in a mix of sleepiness and longing. With a tiny, outstretched arm, he reaches toward you, his fingers stretching as far as they can go, desperate to grab you.

“No.” He huffs, his eyes opening the tiniest bit to glance up at his dad.

“It’s bedtime.” James says softly, drawing Henry close to his chest and gently reaching down to grab the stuffed dinosaur Henry clings to. 

“No! But I—” Henry protests, wriggling in James’s arms. He twists around, casting a desperate look over his shoulder at you. “I want mummy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to James, wide with shock. He mirrors your surprise. With one arm securely wrapped around Henry’s squirming body, he struggles to keep his son from wriggling free. Henry’s little face is flushed with frustration, his eyes locked onto yours as he reaches out with tiny, pleading hands, desperate for your comfort.

“Do you want to say goodnight to mum before bed?” James asks quietly, leaning down to speak into Henry’s ear. Henry stops squirming instantly and nods. Gently, James places his son back onto the bed, and Henry immediately flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. He collides with you with a soft thud, and you hear James mutter about being gentle with you.

“Goodnight,” You say whisper, one arm holding him to you and the other holding the back of his head. “I love you bunches. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Your eyes flicker up to meet James’ who is watching you with an indescribable look.

“Love you.” Henry mumbles, the sleepiness in his voice affecting his pronunciation. Then he leans back and plants a big kiss on your forehead, mimicking the affectionate gesture he’s seen his father make so many times. You laugh quietly and press a kiss on his nose in return. Satisfied, Henry crawls back to his father and lifts his arms. James picks him up, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’ll be right back.” James says softly before heading to Henry’s room. As he walks away, Henry peeks over his shoulder and waves a tiny hand at you.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

part two here!

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[f10werfae]

Sleepy Snuggles

pairing: Boyfriend!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!Reader

summary: Henry loves on his cockdrunk girlfriend all through the night, especially during Christmas season

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Butterfly, you feel so good wrapped around me like this, all cockdrunk and snuggly” Henry whispered kissing Y/n’s cheek from behind, his arms around her waist tightly as he thrusted up into her. Feeling her eyes start to lid from exhaustion, Y/n couldn’t help but just whimper out at the words of her boyfriend, wiggling her ass back onto his cock.

“Missed you so much Hen” Y/n moaned out, feeling Henry’s hands venture up her oversized sweater, his fingers toying with her hardened nipples. “I know baby, I know. Missed my girl so much too” He whispered back, his hand resting on her hip to help her rock back and forth, his lips continuously kissing the back of her neck.

Henry had just come back filming a new movie, and was just in time for Christmas, his girlfriend of 2 years had decided to welcome him home with an amazing homemade dinner. Feeling stuffed to the brim with food, the couple decided to settle in the living room for a nap, only when things got silent both sets of hands went wandering. Starting with Henry removing Y/n’s cotton underwear from under her sweater, and Y/n slowly grinding onto Henry’s cock behind her.

“Go on butterfly, hug onto your pillow, i’ll take care of you love” Henry said watching his girl start to claw at her pillow, hugging onto it while he thrusted his cock into her velvety walls, her warm pussy sucking him in with every force. Whimpering Y/n wrapped her arms around the plush cushion, using it to slightly stifle her moans which were slowly increasing in volume.

“You’re so big, feel you stretching me out” Y/n whispered, her other hand holding onto Henry’s arm and pulling it over to wrap around her waist; ending with him pulling her flush against his chest, their bodies perfectly moulded together. “Can I cum inside you love? Is that okay?” Henry asked feeling his cock start to get even more sensitive.

Nodding against him Y/n snuggled her head into the crook of his arm that was around her torso, feeling her orgasm start to catch up to her as well. “Need words baby”

“Y-yes, cum inside me, wan’ feel all stuffed n’ warm” Y/n said softly, whimpering when Henry’s hand slowly slid down to toy with her clit that was now poking out of its lips, all swollen and asking to be played with. Starting to rub it gently as not to hurt Y/n, Henry felt himself empty out into her pussy, both of them gasping at the new sensations.

“Gonna cum bear, real soon” Lifting up her leg, Henry started to fuck his cum back into her, feeling the juices start to spill down her thighs. “You going to keep my cum inside you butterfly? Want to keep you full of me”

Nodding her head rapidly, Y/n’s legs started to shiver and spasm, her voice sending out muffled whimpers and moans. “F-fuck baby, feel you up here” Y/n whispered pulling Henry’s hand up her stomach, her orgasm slowly washing over her as Henry just let her rock back and forth at her own pace, pulling out once she calmed down.

His hands now pulling back her hair to swoop it into a low ponytail, both of his arms wrapped around her torso to pull her even more against him. His lips kissing the shell of her ear and whispering any and everything to calm down his girl, her heartbeat rapid against the palm of his hand.

“I got you butterfly, Hen’s got you” Turning around in his arms, Henry kissed her forehead, watching her glossy eyes stare up at him; her lips graced with a sleepy dopey smile. “I wanna feel you Bear, take it off” She complained tugging at her own jumper tiredly, Henry smiling at the clingy nature of his girl.

“Okay okay” In one swift motion Y/n was now naked, her warm skin against his, her eyes watching as Henry reached over for the couch blanket sitting by their feet.

Now engulfed by the warm fabric, Henry felt Y/n’s start to grind on his cock, her pussy lathering up his length in their mixed juices. “What do you think you’re doing butterfly?”

“can you stay inside me? J-just until I fall asleep” She asked looking up at him, placing tiny kisses onto his chest, neck and face. “Of course I can baby, is’ all yours” Henry growled kissing her lips softly, their tongues meeting in a sweet sloppy kiss as Y/n guided his tip into her wet cavern. Both of them hissing out at the slight overstimulation, but breathing out once Henry had filled her to the brim. His balls just resting against her pussy as Y/n shimmied closer to his chest, her arms wrapping around his torso.

Her fingers tracing over her man’s chest, playing with the curls decorated on it, smiling contently as Henry kissed her head every few seconds and reminding her how beautiful she looked. “You have never looked so beautiful my love” “Wish could keep you on my cock forever” “ I Love you so much, my gorgeous girl”

———

Taglist Tags (form is up there^^): @keiva1000 @spencerreidat4am @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[myteavsricochet]

latest fanfictions read (firstprince edition):

forehead kisses.

Movie nights had become a weekly tradition for Alex and Henry.

As per usual, the movie Henry had chosen had Alex slowly dozing off next to him, his body relaxing onto the couch. He feels Henry grab the blanket and place it over him, and then-

Well, then, Henry’s fingers begin carding through his hair, and Alex doesn’t know what the fuck to do. It’s evident Henry doesn’t know he’s awake, but the touch feels… nice. Safe. Comforting in a way he didn’t realize he needed.

And then… well. And then.

Henry leans down and kisses his forehead, and his entire fucking world tips on its axis.

tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Collage, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, Roommates, Forehead Kisses, Bisexuality, bisexual awakening, Alex is really dense, Nora is exhausted, First Kiss

when you know, you know

With shaky hands, Henry pulls out the ring from the box, looking at Alex with tearful eyes that he adores so much. Asks, "Alex, darling, will you marry me?"

Alex lets out a watery laugh, swiping an arm across his face to get rid of the rapidly falling tears. He kneels down to cup Henry's face and brushes his thumbs across his cheekbones softly.

"Baby. Don't you remember?" Alex whispers, leaning their foreheads together. "We're already married."

or,

Alex "marries" his best friend when he's six-years-old. It just takes some time for them to fall in love, but they get there.

tags: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, not kidding it's so fluffy, Getting Together, Feelings Realization, Pining, Mutual Pining, Jealous Alex Claremont-Diaz, Protective Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alternate Universe, Roommates, Growing Up Together, Idiots in Love

When you smile, I am overcome

Alex smiles into kisses, and Henry notices. It’s a bit of an issue.

tags: Post-Canon, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, so much kissing!, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, They love each other so much!, Canon - Movie, Canon Compliant

(this fic was inspired by one of my posts 🥲🥲❤️‍🩹)

Your lips on the collar of my shirt

What happened after karaoke. Inspired by Alex’s lipstick printed shirt.

notes: this fic is referenced in when you smile, I am overcome. Please read that before or after if you want more fluff and sweet kisses.

tags: Canon - Movie, Canon Compliant, Missing Scene, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, drunk henry

something weird happened (that might change my life)

Exactly how much wine has he had tonight? He wasn’t sure what to think or how to react, only the sudden realisation that he had to stay really still because if he moved and Henry realised what his fingers were doing, tangling like that in his curls, he might stop, and Alex was quickly becoming aware that he didn’t think he wanted that to happen.

So, he forces his eyes back to the screen and tries to focus once again on Princess Leia and Han Solo instead of on Henry Fox. It doesn’t work. He wants so badly to lean into Henry’s body, encourage his fingers to keep moving through his hair … across his cheek, down the curve of his neck ... Suddenly, he’s wondering what Henry’s tongue would feel like on his skin, tracing the lines of his hipbones, licking stripes along the mounds of his thighs ... His mind jerks him back to the room and to reality. What the fuck?

Or

Oblivious Alex mistakes Henry for a pillow, things escalate from there.

Based on that one Reddit post.

tags: Roommates, Alex has a sexual awakening, After he mistakes Henry for a cushion, Shower Sex, Rimming, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, POV Alternating, Explicit Language

Giving Yourself Grace

Isabella is very young, and Alex is home alone with her for the first time while Henry is away for the shelter. He learns some dark truths about himself when he struggles to help Isabella.

tags: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Alex and Henry are Girl Dads, crying baby, Stressed Parents, Neurodivergent Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Henry gives him that hug but good

darling, you're the one i want

"Henry, thank God.” Alex’s voice is slurred so much that it takes Henry a few seconds to put the words together, and even then all thoughts of the date escape his mind. He frowns.

“Everything okay?”

“No. Yes. I don’t—it’s okay, baby, I’m not mad.” Alex takes a shaky breath and Henry swears he hears a sob from the background, small and desperate, carving out whatever’s left of his heart. “It’s fine. It’ll be fine, just… Andres is sick.”

Or, the one in which Alex has to cancel a date because his son is sick, and Henry shows up for the two of them anyway.

Part 2 of in paper rings, in picture frames, in latte art

tags: Alternative Universe, Single parents, Kid fic, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Sickfic, Single Dad Alex Claremont-Diaz

when he walks in (i am loved)

Henry has chores. They’re chores he’s allocated to himself, ones he loves to do in his free time, when he’s home alone. But he can’t keep thinking about Alex, what he did to him this morning, and it proves to be a distraction.

or, henry gets well fucked and well loved

tags: Post-Canon, ousewife henry ftw, Top Alex Claremont-Diaz, Bottom Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Dom/sub Undertones, henry has a bit of a size kink, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Morning Sex, Aftercare, dabbles into subspace, gratuitous use of petnames, this is just porn with little plot, Domestic Fluff

i'll show you every version

Alex and Henry are joined at the hip. the world takes notice.

king of my heart, body, and soul

“Did you finally find what you so rudely abandoned me for?” Henry says with a pout.

“Hush, you big baby,” Alex chides as he fiddles with the object in his hand. It’s a tube of… lipstick?

or: in the midst of sleepy delirium, alex writes the word “king” in red lipstick on henry’s chest and they go a smidge insane over it.

tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sleepy Sex, Blow Jobs, Rimming, Wet & Messy, inappropriate use of lipstick

born a restless child

Henry’s heart nearly gives out at the sound of Alex’s bedroom door opening. He jumps and then winces, thinking that he might have jostled Alex. But if an intruder is breaking into Alex’s home, he would want Alex to be awake for that.

The intruder in question is Alex’s five-year-old daughter, Ellie.

And she’s crying.

or: when Alex's daughter has a nightmare, his new boyfriend henry makes the cautious decision to comfort her.

tags: Not Canon Compliant, Single Parent Alex Claremont-Diaz, Nightmares, Comfort, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Family Fluff

in the blur

��It really was a beautiful speech,’ he says, glancing towards her. She’s in a pair of leggings and a faded UT Austin sweatshirt, hair piled into a bun and her eyes rimmed with dark circles. She's barely slept, still worrying about Alex. There’s a mug of steaming tea in front of her, and one clasped in Henry’s hands.

She shrugs. ‘I was just trying to think about, you know.' She waves her arm in the air. 'What the two of you mean to people, what he means too.’

---

After his speech, Alex falls asleep. Henry takes the opportunity to talk to June.

tags: Missing Scene, Sibling bonding, Conversations, Found Family, Big Sisters

of smoke trails

Alex is more than happy to accompany a visiting group of twenty third graders on a school trip to the White House. But escaping electrical fires was not among the learning points of this trip. And to make matters worse, one of the students is marked missing during the evacuation.

Armed with a fire extinguisher and the suit on his back, Alex dives back into the building without a second thought. Henry, already evacuated and standing on the lawn, can’t do anything but watch as his boyfriend disappears through the heavy smoke.

tags: Major Character Injury, Fires, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Alex Claremont-Diaz, Worried Henry Fox-Mounchristen-Windsor, Whump, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Field Trip, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Hospitalization, Angst, Fluff and Angst

you can see it with the lights out

Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here.

Alex is afraid, but Henry is here.

tags: nightmare fic, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has Abandonment Issues, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Location: The Lake House (Red White & Royal Blue), Henry comforts Alex, Hurt/Comfort, Mostly Hurt/Comfort

wanting

It slammed into him with the force of a semi truck out of the blue on a random Tuesday in July. the AC was out; they were sprawled out in the living room in nothing but their boxers, complaining about the heat and threatening to off their landlord in a million different ways. Alex was on the floor, Henry was on the couch, one leg draped over the back, his arms thrown up over his head. Henry had said something; something absurd and hilarious and Alex can’t for the life of him remember what it was, because all he remembers is lifting his head off the floor, and catching sight of that shining head of golden hair caught in a sunbeam and thinking—

And thinking.

God, I love him.

tags: Love Confessions, Frottage, Longing, Pining

The Domestication of Household Spiders

"How thick do you think I am, exactly?”

Alex mumbles something under his breath that sounds like, “Got away with it this long, didn’t I?”

Henry’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. “I’m sorry, are you bragging about lying to me?”

After a long pause, Alex says, “...No.” slowly.

“Hm. Thought not.”

In which Henry can’t recognise the sound of his own boyfriend’s voice, Alex isn’t as good of a liar as he thinks he is, and living with a superhero is both exactly, and not at all, what Henry thought it would be.

tags: Alternate Universe - Spider-Man Fusion, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Lawyer!Alex, Spider-Man!Alex, Concerned!Henry, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Secret Identity, Injury Recovery, Mental Health Issues, Established Relationship, Cute David the Beagle (Red White & Royal Blue), Moving In Together, POV Henry

Burnt Offering

He just needs to get through washing his hair. Simple.

Except washing his hair has never been simple. It’s the polar opposite, actually.

The more he thinks about the task set out in front of him, the more daunting and impossible it feels. His limbs feel like lead and the weight of the hot water pouring over him makes his head buzz.

But Alex can do this. He’s done it before. A shower after a long lacrosse game or that one time he had the flu and had to stop three times to sit under the water and collect himself.

He can handle a little finals week exhaustion. He has to.

---

Or, Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service.

icy keys & heated skin.

Alex discovers something in the bedroom. Something involving icy cold keys and flushed feverish skin.

or Henry likes the key a little too much, and Alex finds out.

[oonajaeadira]

i was rereading a GTTT chapter and Patricio has just been in my mind rent free, creeping in from daydreams in places i should not be daydreaming. So I’ve got a PATS question for you. How would Patricio and Reader navigate the issue of him being too drained sexually when Reader is needy?

Hello, lovely.

First of all, I want to apologize for the long hiatus I've taken on Pats and Pres. This ask--and many more--have been sitting in my inbox for far too long and I'd like to think that answering late is better than never. Thank you for your patience with me!!!

This is a very interesting question and it sparked some over-arching thoughts. I have half an answer for you here--from his point of view, and therefore the "drained" part of it. Pres may not seem too needy here, but look to the next installment for more on that.

Also, a non-apology here to everyone.

For so long I've made you believe that Patricio is confident, in control...or at least in denial about it when he's not. But he's growing. Changing. There may be more vulnerability here than you want and much less sexy times. Not everyone has a good day every day.

Kiss and Tell: Everyone's Allowed a Bad Day (GTTT PATS)

FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)

As with all of my PATS installments, warnings abound for explicit content. (This one's much tamer than most.)

(gif by cavill-henry)

It’s nights like these that he sometimes wished he smoked. He’ll pour himself a drink once the client wakes up and leaves, but he doesn’t want her to catch it on his breath.

Bourbon. Bath. Bed. Maybe something short and calm on streaming. There’s a new cowboy film just dropped by that Spanish director looks good. 

Leaning on the kitchen counter and staring out across the silent living room, he contemplates the novel you left on the coffee table. Wonders if you’re missing it.

It occurs to him that he could call you. He can do that now. He doesn’t need a reason anymore, but even if the reason is a rough day…actually, maybe that’s even more reason to call you. In fact, he really should ask you–

His phone vibrates on the countertop and he frowns. It’s your pattern and his heart races a little, not only because it’s you, but thinking he’s been lost in thought too long, that he’s missed the three-hour mark. But a flip of the phone shows him he’s got 20 minutes to go. 

Odd. It’s not like you to interrupt a session.

“Hey, muñeca, everything okay?” he mumbles, stepping barefoot out onto the front porch in nothing but his sweatpants.

Your voice sounds far away, “Oh shit,” before a riffling sound and then a clearer, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit dial. I didn’t know I did. I was going to call and then I saw the time…I know you’re in the middle of a session, oh loverboy I’m so sorry–”

Just the sound of your voice is an instant balm. “It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s sleeping. I was actually just thinking about calling you.”

“Oh, really?” There’s something there behind your fluster, hiding among the smile in your voice, something that he might not have noticed if you hadn’t said you meant to call.

“Something you wanted to call me about?”

There’s a sound in the background. An announcement. You’re in public. “Um, no, not really. I just had a lonely moment, that’s all.”

“Well that’s an ego boost. You wanna come spend the night?”

There’s a pause. Shocked, judging by your voice. “Really? On an appointment night?”

He scratches his head and focuses on his feet as he aimlessly paces the porch. “Sure. I mean, if like a quarter after ten isn’t too late for you to drive just to go to bed.”

“With the weather shifting and how warm you run? It’s never too late to say yes to a heated bed.”

He smiles. “Glad I can be of service.” There's silence from you and he cringes. “Shit. Not you– not– Was that a bad choice of word?”

“No. It’s just–”

“Hey. I want you here tonight. I wanna talk to you.” Another silence. He supposes that sounds ominous. It shouldn’t. “You know, here. Not…on a phone.” He’s still not good at this. 

“That sounds nice…. You, uh, need anything? I’m at the grocery store.”

“No. Just you.” It feels good to say. Right. It’s what’s needed to break what feels like an odd tension into a few comfortable, mutually smiling moments. “So. The grocery store. And you’re feeling lonely. At a grocery store.”

Your laughter--hushed but musical--is kept close to the phone. “Well I am standing in produce and they just got in some preeeeeetty nice looking eggplants.”

“Wow.”

Another laugh, less hushed, throatier. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll let you get back to your work. I assume you’ve got a sleeping beauty to wake up.”

Pulling the phone away from his face for a timecheck, he winces. “Yeah. I’ll see you in 20?”

“I’d say I can’t wait, but you know that I will.”

Wow. “I know and I…”Something sweet twists inside. “I know.”

After you hang up he stands a minute more on the porch in the dark. The leaves are almost all off the trees now, the crickets are gone. His feet are freezing and the skin on his torso is goosebumping; doing its best–and failing–to lift his fine hairs to shield him from the autumn chill. But it’s far from unpleasant and he finds that he’s awake for the sensation in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

He’s alive again in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

The last couple of months have been…nothing short of amazing.

He should tell you that. He should say it.

But he’s got to get to that point where…he accepts it. 

Not the relationship…the fact that there’s always a possibility it’s too good to be true, that he could lose it. He could lose you.

You’re handling everything so well, but for how long? How long until you make him choose?

Oh fuck, please don’t make me choose, preciosa, please.

The phone buzzes in his hand. Timer; no need to look, just thumbs the button to silence. On another night, he’d allow himself more time, let the client sleep while he mused. But he’s got a job to do. 

And someone special arriving soon.

So he packs these thoughts away and goes quietly inside to prepare.

________

He’s just poured the detergent in the washing machine when he hears the door open. “Hey, I’m just cleaning up, gimme a second.”

Out in the entry, your shoes clatter on the floor and then your keys jingle on the kitchen counter and before he knows it you’re on him, topless and crowding him against the washing machine, kissing him like he’s just come back from war. It’s jarring but pleasant and full of hungry sighs…until there’s a ping in his calf muscle.

“Ooh, hey, Pres, hey hey, hang on.” Taking your face in his hands he calms, he whispers, he soothes you in order to soothe himself, but you catch on instantly, concern splashing over you.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

A kiss to the tip of your nose, to your smart little nose. “No, no, I’m a little sore; just had a difficult session–a difficult day, actually. And I haven’t showered yet. So don’t get yourself too worked up here. You don’t want me like this.”

He expects you to recoil from this, to find the sex with someone else still lingering on his skin. You don’t.

You simply run your hands over his sides, lean in to kiss his chin. “Of course I do. I want you like whatever you are.”

You’re backlit from the kitchen and there’s something like a soft halo around you, bringing a glow to the roll of your cheeks, the swipe of your lip. Tracing these with a finger and finding himself reflected in your eyes, he trusts you, accepts this, tries to see himself like you do. How are you so effortless?

There’s nothing but surrender when you rake your fingers through his beard and push yourself up onto tiptoe to press a warm kiss to his forehead. “But if you really feel that way, beautiful, let me run you a bath.” 

Everytime he opens his eyes and you’re there, it's like a small miracle.

“Come on,” you smile, taking his hand and guiding him to the stairs, “let me take care of you and you can tell me about your day.”

You’re perfect. He’s so grateful he picked up the phone tonight when he did.

________

“Mmmmm, that’s good.” The sigh comes up from his bottom wells, like a contented creature crawling out of hidden caverns within. The back of his head rests in your palm, warm water spilling over his scalp. Your hands whisper and calm and soothe. He spends so much time using his touch to bring relaxation to others that he’d all but forgotten that it could go the other way. And your touch–

“So there was some heavy lifting tonight, huh?” Your finger lightly wipes away an errant rivulet from the corner of his eye. “Ness, right?”

The ghost of irritation looms. “Mmm. She has a pretty severe tailbone injury. Didn’t tell me about it before she showed up. Lot of full-body lifting on the table just to get her in the right positions for stretch.”

“I see. You’ll feel it tomorrow. And sore tailbone means no actual sex tonight.”

“Oh no, we had some fun. She’s got weeks of recovery ahead of her and she needed some practice re-routing some natural orgasm responses to different muscle groups when she ejaculates.”

“Ejaculates? She…? Ohhh.” A loving hand begins to wander lightly over his chest. “I assumed. My bad.”

“Sorry. Should have been more clear. But yeah.”

“No need to apologize. I don’t know why I hadn’t just assumed that you…took all forms of payment.”

He peeks an eye open to catch your reaction as you reach over the side of the tub toward him and finds your warm, curious smile. “Not to disparage the vaginal anatomy, but sometimes it’s nice to have my dick handled by someone who has a lifetime experience with their own.”

“Noted. Fair.”

Closing his eyes and sinking into the warm bath of your care a lifetime goes by with your hands running over his skin.

“You’re very accommodating.”

A kiss lands on his temple. “Wait until you realize I’m terribly selfish and am in it for the rewards points.” When his smile fades, your hands slow. “That was a joke.”

“I know.” Sensing a shift in tone coming when he turns to you, you instinctively pull back, but he catches your hand in his, pulling it in to place a wet kiss to your knuckles. “Would you mind if I don’t want to have sex tonight?”

“Of course. That’s okay.” A half-smile. Are you covering disappointment?

“I’m more than happy to go down on you if you–”

But a shake of your head stops him. “No, it's fine. I can tell you’re tired. You said you had a hard day. Wanna tell me about it while we get you dried off and into bed?”

He feels like a child as he simply nods, allows you to help him up, succumbs to you as you care for him. It’s easy to do, to melt under your attention, to crack open and spill. He does his best not to control the spread as he generalizes a failed report at work, a difficult project he’s fallen behind on. By the time you’re sliding into the sheets and curling up next to him, he’s breaching the topic he’s been deciding and undeciding and deciding again to tell you about–that his mother called without warning.

“She wants to meet you.”

Your breathing stills in the darkness. “You told your mom about me.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I..” you stutter, “I guess I didn’t… I’m flattered that you talk about me?”

There’s a pang of guilt that he’s let you believe you’re not important enough for him to tell the world that you’re in his life. But he sighs as you squeeze your arm around his middle. “You might feel differently if you met her.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to meet your…is it just your mom?”

“And my father. I have an older brother but he lives in Australia. Doesn’t go home much.”

“Home issssSantiago?”

“Just outside of it. Rancagua.”

Another squeeze. Perhaps that was a lie; your arm around him and the brush of your lips on his shoulder feels like his true home now. 

“So this call was stressful because she wants to meet me. And you’re nervous?”

“The call was stressful because…I don’t…want her to meet you.” Your squeeze lightens a bit and he slides his grip over your arm in case you decide he’s awful and want to pull away. He knows he should let you go if you want to but– “I wanted to ask you, Pres…I’m sorry I don’t know if I can ask this much from you but–”

It almost breaks his heart when your arm slides through his hand, when your warmth leaves his side, when you abandon him…

But it’s only for the time it takes to hear the click of the bedside lamp, register the bright sting and spill of light, and you’re back beside him, leaning over him, turning his face to yours with one patient hand on his cheek. “What’s going on. I’ve never seen you like this.”

Shit. Get it together.

“You’re going to think I’m a fucking jerk–”

“Don’t tell me what you think I’m going to think, sir. Tell me what you need from me. Just say it.”

This leaves him with depleted gambling chips, raises the stakes. But you’re right. He has to be honest.

“The relationship I have with my family is…strained. That’s why I live here and not there. I see them somewhat regularly, but the holidays are when the whole family gets together–all the cousins–and it’s just a lot. There’s a lot that’s expected, a lot of judgements…it’s overwhelming. I can barely make it through myself, but having you there? Watching you be scrutinized on top of it when we’re just figuring this out? I just…no.”

“You know I won’t tell them–”

“It’s not that, fuck, it’s not that.” He surges in for a kiss, taking you in deep, willing you to understand him by osmosis; if only… “Every time I’ve gone down for the holidays it’s stressful enough…it’s…it’s bad enough that I’m away from my clients, but–”

“But under stress the itch gets worse. And you don’t have your outlet. And you’re not in control.”

Oh god, you see him. You see him and he’s so…fucking pathetic.

The last thing he expects is for you to pepper kisses along his mouth and chin, to dot a lingering one on his cheek before pulling him into your chest, to cradle him, breathe into his hair.

But it’s exactly what you do.

“What do you need, beautiful boy? Anything you want.”

He breathes. Sighs. Curses himself for doubting you, for assuming you wouldn’t surprise him. Allows you to hold the weight of his heart on your own without a spotter.

“I need to…not do the ‘meet the family’ thing this year. I just want you to myself for a while.”

A hum of sympathy, of bittersweetness, one that stakes his heart into the ground at your feet. “Oh Patricio. Is that all?” Your breast moves under his cheek as you lean over to turn off the light, your soft curves and soft scent and soft hum whispering to him, calming him, soothing him into you. “I’ll admit that I’m a little sad that I don’t get to show you off to my family, but I definitely see the appeal of a quiet holiday season, just us hiding away from the world together. You want me to yourself? Did you really think I would find that anything but absolutely wonderful?”

All at once, the strains of the day overtake him, the need to say more is gone and took his energy to do so right along with it. A whole lifetime of relief in just an hour. That’s your secret power. Always has been. He cannot think of words more meaningful than, “Thank you.”

Your fingertips begin their pattern of affection along his jaw, tattooing a spell of sleep through him. “This really means a lot to you, huh.” He’s too gone to get his voice to work and it seems you assume he’s fallen asleep. “Well you mean the world to me. You don’t even know, mister.”

It’s not worth the effort to drag himself from the downward pull of dreams to ask you to say more about that. Not when he knows you’ll be right here in the morning and he can ask you then.

Or say the same thing right back to you.

Maybe this time he’ll find a way to do that.

______

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

[betterfettered]

Hello there!

If it's ok, could I request the yandere brothers' reaction to mc getting pregnant? I imagine whether it was purposeful or accidental would depend on the brother, so you can choose whichever you think fits.

I do understand that pregnancy and children can be a pretty sensitive topic though, so it's ok to say no if you feel uncomfortable of course!

In any case, take care!

Hey there! Thanks for the ask! This particular topic isn't my wheelhouse but I would do anything for u anon so I'll take a crack at it. Readers let me know if I missed a tw for anything

(AFAB!reader x AMAB!yandere)(Baby trapping, pregnancy, abortion mentions)(18+ readers only please, mdni)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Yandere!Lucifer most definitely planned it. When you finally get pregnant, it would be one of the few situations where you see him actually get emotional, he'll probably hug you so that you can't see his face while he's crying a little. If you thought he was controlling before, you will think you're losing your mind with how he is when you are pregnant. He measures everything you eat and makes all of it himself, doesn't allow you to use any products that he hasn't approved himself, locks you in his room and will not let you out of the bed during the times he wants you to be asleep. When you're disobedient, his punishments will be more psychological, like his threatening to harm or kill a loved one of yours, because he doesn't want to endanger the baby by doing anything physical to you.

Somehow, yandere!Mammon got you pregnant both by accident and on purpose. The idea of baby trapping you occurred to him and without thinking about it whatsoever he instantly decided that he was going to do it. But then when he finds out you're actually pregnant he gives it .56 seconds of thought and realizes what a huge deal this is. He'd be really happy but also pretty freaked out about it, expect Lucifer to be around a bit more helping you and Mammon out with things when Mammon doesn't know what to do. But you'd see his genuine excitement in things like him buying all kinds of baby clothes and shoes (that are like for all ages of child because he isn't checking the sizes) and the really gaudy nursery that he tries to put together. He would love the feeling of having this special connection with you that no one else has.

Yandere!Levi would definitely have done it by accident. He'd be really, really freaked out, and I think the most likely to ask you to terminate the pregnancy. Regardless of if you actually did or not, you would get the sense that he is almost...competing with his own kid for your attention? Like he'd want you to keep playing video games and watching anime with him as though you weren't pregnant, and if physical symptoms got in the way he'd be annoyed/jealous. Or if you terminated he would want you to act like the whole thing never happened. A lot of his negative feelings come from feeling inadequate and unprepared, so if you and Lucifer let's be honest he will also need a lot of help from Lucifer consistently encouraged him and said he'd be great with the baby and the baby will love him, I think he would really come around on it. Like the first time he held the kid his face would look like he just saw a ghost, but soon after the kid would be like another Henry to him (they always listen when Levi talks about TSL!!!)

Yandere!Satan absolutely planned it, months in advance. You'd know this because he'd have stacks and stacks of books about it beforehand, and feed you all sorts of weird fertility potions and stuff. He's probably also going to fuck you in a bunch of new/different positions that he read are good for breeding. Much like Lucifer, he'll be monitoring you really closely while you're pregnant, and have planned everything down to the last detail. He's prepared little potion kits for any symptoms you may have, he has already read so many books on what your symptoms mean, he like takes your vitals every four hours LOL He may also try to distance himself from you a little because he's worried about getting angry and doing something he regrets, so expect to see lots of cameras all over your living space so he can keep tabs on you.

Yandere!Asmo would have done it on accident, but he'd be really excited, sort of in the same way that an influencer would be excited about it. He starts talking a lot about his legacy and wants to talk all the time about the baby's name and how you'll dress them and whether the baby will have your eyebrows or his eyebrows, etc etc. He gets portraits painted of you two all the time, wants to come up with his own line of maternity clothing for you and wants nudes of you to post on his Devilgram so he can wax poetic about the beauty of pregnant bodies. The only thing is, he has a bit of a dreamy perspective on it and isn't necessarily keyed into the realities of your pregnancy. Like if you kept getting morning sick, he may be a little grossed out by it and sleep in another room from you. Or he may not grasp how painful some contractions can be for you. Eventually he'd get it but it would take a while for his head to come out of the clouds.

Yandere!Beel planned it in the sense that he takes it for granted that that's going to be the outcome of your relationship. He'll randomly be feeding you stuff and say that it is good for fertility then move on without explaining anything. He likes the idea of having a ton of kids and a big family with you. You may be able to get him to defer breeding you for a while, but he won't stop talking about kids or the family you'll have together someday. While you're pregnant he would dote on you constantly, insisting on carrying you up the stairs and getting everything for you so you don't need to get up and becoming aggressively territorial when anyone but Belphie tries to come around you. Once he has started his family with you, everything else will just be a distraction to him.

Yandere!Belphie would be very similar in attitude to Beel, but he would be specifically and knowingly trying to baby trap you as soon as he had his hands on you (fans of mating press, rejoice!). He's the most likely to have a breeding fetish and want to finish inside of you as much as he can, even to the point of avoiding you blowing him. While you are pregnant, he would love how your breasts get bigger and will always rest his face in them while sleeping, his arm wrapped around your tummy. He'll be less bratty but more manipulative -- if you complain about anything, he'll ask if you hate your own child and that's why you're trying to destroy your family with him.

TLDR ur probably gonna have to pay child support to lucifer for how much cofathering he's gonna do with these idiots LOLOL

How was that anon? I'm out of my depths but I hope you enjoyed at least part of that. If not feel free to heckle me hahahahaha

[abibliophobiaa]

Evermore - e.m x f!reader/ s.h x f!reader

summary: Eddie loved you, he still loves you, but he’s not the man he was before.

tags/warnings: Kas!Eddie/Vampire Eddie, angst, fluff, implied sexual content, character death, bittersweet ending, allusion to pregnancy (very brief, if you squint).

relationships: Eddie Munson x Afab!Reader, Steve Harrington x Afab!Reader.

song suggestions (in order): lovely by billie eilish; evermore by josh groban; beautiful boy (darling boy) by john lennon

Eddie…well, he remembers.

He remembers those before moments clearly.

Those times of togetherness. Of you and him side by side in his bedroom, hands tied together, whispering confessions of love. Of your words, spinning in his mind, as you whisper stories to him in the night, your fingers in his hair and his around your waist.

He can still see your face.

The way you smile at him, the faces you make when you’re hurt, happy, when you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. He can see them all. They’re clear as day still, as if they’re happening at present, an endless repeat in the back of his mind as he hunts—as he kills.

Because he’s no longer Eddie Munson.

No.

There's this otherness now. The mind he shares with this thing that resides in him. The monster. The creature that lurks in the shadows, that whispers of a deeper need, tells him to feed. The part of him that is enhanced, vision stronger, scent more refined, his hearing powerfully adept.

It’s the parts of him he’s most afraid of.

And yet he finds you that April evening, sitting before a little makeshift headstone in an open forest. You speak into the open air like you believe someone hears you, like someone’s listening.

He is, he supposes. He always is.

You’re sitting beside his Uncle Wayne, your head hung low, tears falling into decaying earth.

The world is full of rot now.

Hawkins is in four, and your heart is in two, and Eddie hides in the shadows because it’s best for the one.

He should be happy, he reminds himself, that the spirit of Henry, of Vecna, allows him these moments.

These moments of reprieve where his mind is his and he remembers all the things of his before—of a life that seems far away now.

A mere distant memory.

“I miss him.” Your words carry in the wind and curl around him, beckon him forth, but he never ventures further.

He’s not the man you knew.

Not anymore—never again.

*

His fingers long to touch you.

To reach out and grasp your hand as he watches from a distance when May burns bright.

You’re at the movies today with Dustin, Steve and Robin. You tip your head back in a laugh as they speak to you, but he knows it’s fake.

There’s a forced nature to the way you hold yourself. Your smile never quite reaches your eyes, the way you shift awkwardly on the spot, how you glance off into the distance.

You try and play it off as sincere, but Eddie knows.

You tell them you had fun, that you can’t wait for next time, that you’re happy you got to spend this time with them.

But when they’re gone, when you’ve returned to your home and creep up the stairs to your bedroom, Eddie sees through it all.

The way your forehead presses against your window, how you search into the distance in the way you used to when you were together. Longing, searching, begging for more.

You cry.

You cry so much lately and he wishes he could take that from you—this endless pain that sucks the life from you.

He misses you.

Gosh, he misses you so much.

But the shadows call, and he answers.

It’s safer this way.

*

You fell in love quickly, like many often do.

The first date was at the local diner, thighs slicked from nervousness and the summer heat against red vinyl, hearts all fluttery from excitement, his words a fumbled mess from his mouth because you were so pretty and he’d been wanting to ask you out for ages.

And with you there sitting across from him, all he could think was that, and he blurted out how pretty you are and his cheeks stained red because you bit your lip and averted your gaze and he assumed the whole thing was over.

But later that night it was all strawberry flavored kisses at your front doorstep, him nervous at first and you with this dangerous glint in your eye. He’d fall for it every time, and he told you as much, his forehead dropping down against yours to pull away and press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

He asked you, a little breathless, bitten with nervousness, “You wanna do this again sometime?”

And his heart felt like it had been punched in the best way when you’d crinkled your nose affectionately against his and whispered back, “Make out…or another date?”

“Both?” His stomach did that thing where it dropped out beneath him, but he’d thrown all caution to the wind at this point, because he liked you and you liked him and what a beautiful thing to know.

It was a summer love, Wayne had teased, as the weeks slipped on by in the lazy July heat. You spent nearly every day together, whether it was walking around town with ice cream cones in hand, hands stained vanilla and chocolate and rainbow colored sprinkles because you always talked for too long they started to melt, or in the back of his van at Lover’s Lake with a rolled joint shared between the two of you and nothing but time, hours spent in his bedroom where you talked until the moon grew high above the sky and a new day crept and you revealed all your thoughts and deepest secrets, a drive in movie with his friends from the band, where he’d introduced you as his girlfriend for the first time.

He immediately panicked, face hot and red, but you never corrected him. Instead, as the colors from the screen danced in the other boy’s eyes and they were distracted for a bit, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, and told him you accepted.

After that it was the kick start of his heart that first time he’d snuck through your bedroom window. Climbed up your trellis and nearly woke the neighbors as he careened into the room, leaves and other brush sticking out every which way from his hair. You’d giggled, all lyrical and bright, warning him he needed to be quiet. ‘Cause your parents were down the hall and you didn’t want to wake them, but you also really wanted to do this.

He wasn’t sure what to do, mentioned as much, just as you slipped your tank top from your shoulders and bared yourself to him. And he’d whispered a silent prayer, a curse under his breath, as he leaned forward and kissed you slowly, soundly, sweetly, walking you backward until you clambered across the bed and flopped down onto your back, staring up at him with a look in your eyes he’d never seen before.

But it was all for him, and relished in it as you whispered you loved him for the first time.

And what a beautiful thing, because no one had ever told him they loved him before. Not like that, not in the way one gives you a part of themselves, not as you handed your heart to him and he gave his right back.

Soon it was all pretty sighs and gasped moans against his mouth. It was hot flesh revealed as you helped rid himself of his clothes before he worked your shorts and underwear down your thighs, a hand curling around your kneecap as his hips settled against yours. It was a whimper and a plea of, “Need you, Eddie,” and a muffled cry as he pressed your head into his shoulder to stay quiet and slid inside inch by blessed inch for the first time.

And as he loved you in the night, closer than the two of you had ever been before, he promised himself it was forever.

Felt the first flicker of it deep within his chest as you shattered around him, babbling his name and telling him you loved him over and over and over again like a mantra.

Resigned himself to the fact you had all of him after he rolled off of you and opened his arms so you could crawl into them and fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Whispered it to you against the crown of your head, even though you slept soundly against him, and reminded you in the morning when you leaned up and kissed him and told him how happy you were to be with him, and watched your face as it lit up, because you felt the same.

*

You still wear the ring he gave you, back at the boathouse, back when you slept under a tarp and prayed someone would take away the burden of Chrissy’s death and the public scrutiny—the allegations that the man you loved was, in fact, a murderer, the threat of Vecna looming closer and closer every day.

He sees it one night as he stands in the trees outside your bedroom, the glint of silver on your ring finger.

He’d given it to you the night before Patrick’s death, said he wanted to marry you after all was said in done, said you were two kids who were probably too young to be thinking about marriage, but he knew it didn’t matter if it was now or years from now because the person he wanted at the end of it all would always be you.

You cried and nodded your head, and he laughed through his own tears and pushed the ring up onto your finger, one of his that had been small enough to fit. He pulled your hand up to his mouth to press a kiss there.

Forever then, you were going to be together forever.

In the end though, you only get a few days.

He breaks your heart and it breaks his because he promises you till he’s old and gray but only days later he watches you from below as you scream his name and sob for him to come back.

It breaks his heart as he cuts that rope dangling through your two worlds and your cries bleed into Dustin’s as he rushes from the trailer and gets on that damn bike.

It breaks his heart because you and Dustin somehow find him anyway at the end of it all, sobbing into his broken body as he pushes your hair from your face and tries to make you smile, even though he knows you’re splitting down the center.

It breaks his heart to watch your hands as they hover over the parts of him that are no longer whole and only bleed, because you want to keep him alive, want to keep your love alive. But there’s so much blood, there’s too much, and even he understands that he’s running out of time.

You’re telling him you love him over and over and over again and he asks you to tell him about your future. And you whisper against his bloody lips through salty tears that, “We’ll…we’ll have a little house with a l-little porch swing so we can sit and you can read to me every night. We’ll adopt a dog—our little O-Ozzy. And you’ll call me w-wife and I’ll call you husband, and maybe someday we’ll do something crazy like have a kid. One with…your hair and your eyes and your heart, because the world needs more of you. And when they’re all grown up, and they m-move out and have families of their own, you’ll still sit with me every night on that swing. You’ll tell me you l-love me and I’ll tell you I love you because…because there’s no reality I want without a forever with you in it.”

He smiles even though you whimper against him because he feels so happy and of all the things he’s done in life, all the adventures he’s gone on, all the choices that have led him here, you’re his favorite.

It makes it less scary, as his vision grows darker and darker and his life bleeds into the ground beneath him, knowing you’re the light to guide his path.

It does little to change the fact he’ll miss you forever when it finally grows dark.

You twist the ring now as you sit in your bedroom window, your knees pulled up to your chest. He sees the way your face crumples as you hold your hand close to your frame, just over your heart, and submit to your tears.

He hates himself, because in this new body he is cursed with a forever, and he’s cursed with a reality with no you in it.

And in the night, with nothing but your image just feet away from him and the moon to keep you both company, he cries, too.

*

Your first close call comes when the summer bleeds into fall.

Vecna finds a new vessel, his powers grow once more, and the Upside Down bleeds into Hawkins.

But there are those brave enough to fight back, and it comes as no surprise that you’re one of those people.

He watches from a distance, a shadow in the night, a guardian to keep you safe, because it’s the only way he can have you, even if it’s not in the way he wants.

You and the group you grew close with that last week of his life are in the streets of a now broken Hawkins, fighting off a monster that walks on all fours and has a mouth like a venus flytrap—a gaping maw of rows full of gore-slick teeth.

He knows its name. Demogorgon. He feeds off them, walks the same lands they do.

He is not part of the hive.

He’s special, that voice whispers to him sometimes, he’s a most remarkable creation. He’s a monster.

He feels the pull of that other world.

The voice calling his name as the demogorgon grows a little too close to you growls and leaps.

He screams in his mind and the monster’s head turns, turns toward him and in its momentary distraction you slide a knife into its head just before Steve whirls around with a nail studded bat and watches it bleed and die against the ground.

“What’s wrong?” He hears Steve ask you, catching your eyes staring directly in Eddie’s direction. “Are you hurt?”

Steve’s eyes scour your body for any injury, his hands coming to rest on your arms, but you’re fine.

Eddie made sure of it.

Robin turns as well to see what’s going on, Nancy using her shoulder for support, hand cupping a wound on her side.

But he’s hidden in the shroud of night.

That voice whispers his name again, and he knows he has to go back to the place where the sky is always red, but he lingers just a moment longer to hear you start to walk closer, your head tilting to the side, eyes straining to see.

“I just thought…” Your voice trails off in the wind. It’s been so long since he’s heard it, he’s almost forgotten what it sounds like. “Nevermind.”

*

You're hurt, and there are no beds in the hospital.

You’re hurt, attacked by a demogorgon, so it’s not like they can bring you there anyway. Too many questions, too many risks involved.

You’re hurt, and he watches from a distance as Steve and Nancy bind the wounds on your side with whatever scraps of fabric they have in their backpacks, snow beneath you blooming red like flower petals around you.

You’re hurt and he watches as Steve lifts your weak body from the ground, your eyes closed and limbs slack. He tries to not think about the way you already look gone from this side of earth, tries to picture your smiling face in his mind, because you’ll be okay.

You have to be.

You’re hurt and he follows from a distance as they take you back to Steve’s house, because his parents are gone and you’ll be able to rest up there. Eddie watches through the trees as Steve lays you down in his bed and murmurs with Robin and Nancy, his face furrowing in worry at the sight of you unconscious in his bed.

Eddie ignores the call of the Upside Down beckoning him back home.

Because all his mind can focus on is that you’re hurt, you’re hurt, you’re hurt.

He ignores the voice of Vecna and shoves him into the catacombs of his mind as he climbs into the tree outside Steve’s window and watches for days as you slip in and out of consciousness, towels on your forehead, as you fight off fevers. Steve, Robin and Nancy watch you in shifts, sitting at your side in vigil.

Sometimes the kids do, too, with their hand around your own and mouths moving as they talk to you, as they remind you of all the reasons why it’s too soon for you to go.

One afternoon, he hears Steve and Robin sitting outside on the lounge chairs set up around the patio, Steve’s head in his hands and Robin’s hand on his shoulder as she says, “There was nothing you could do. She knew what she was getting into.”

“But if she dies—if she dies…that’s two in less than a year. I can’t—I can’t lose them both.” If Eddie had a heart, he knows it would ache, because though their tentative friendship had been short, it had been meaningful.

He wishes he had more time to see what could have been.

“Eddie knew what he was doing, just like she did, too,” Robin reminds him. Her voice is low and she sounds broken. They both do. “You can’t carry around this guilt. It’s eating you alive. When did the doctor say they could get here?”

Steve’s breath is shaky as he says, “Tomorrow. They’re coming tomorrow. I just hope she makes it.”

It’s stupid.

Eddie knows it’s stupid, but under the cover of night, he slips out from the tree he’s hiding in and climbs up to Steve’s window. He climbs to where Steve has left it unlocked, always does to make it easy to slip out when his parents are home and the Party comes calling, and pushes in through the parted curtains.

His senses overwhelm him.

The smell of your sickness, the shallowness of your breath in and out of your weak lungs, the slow beat of your heart holding on beneath your ribcage.

There had been a time he’d fallen asleep to it, but now it only fills the cavity where his own organ used to beat with dread.

He reaches out to touch you, but you don’t feel like he remembers.

Your skin is slick and clammy, sweat clinging to the surface, body warm from your fever.

Your lips tremble in your fitful sleep, like you’re speaking, only no words come.

His fingers trail along your forehead, across the hair along your scalp, the curve of your ear.

His ears focus on your breath, the sound of your heart, and he tries to clear his mind of everything else.

Slips into that space he’s gone to only a few times before since becoming this thing he is now.

It’s dark there.

An endless sea of inky night that stretches endlessly on and he finds you there.

Feels the ground ripple near his feet as he walks over to where you sit on Steve’s bed.

In here, your body isn’t broken.

In here, there’s no sickness, no fever, no wounds staining through white bandages with your beautiful life.

Your head tilts up and his breath catches because you’re beautiful and it’s the closest he’s been to you in months.

And your face crumples as you look at him and jump off the bed, rushing over, hands pausing before touching him like you’re afraid you might hurt him—like you’re not sure he’s really there at all.

“Are you real right now? Am…”

“You’re not dead, sweetheart. I won’t let you go yet,” he tells you, bringing his arms around you to hold you close. His legs nearly buckle under the weight of the moment. You fold back into him as you always have, as if you’ve missed no time at all. He nearly chokes on a sob, feels you heave and crumble against him, noisy cries ripping from your throat. “I know, baby. I know.”

“You’re here.”

“I am,” he promises, cupping the back of your head.

“Am I dreaming?”

His chest cleaves in two as you look up at him, your eyes bloodshot, tears falling like glittering stars down your cheeks. His hands slide up to rest on either side of your face, thumbs brushing against your skin, mouth dropping kiss after kiss to your forehead.

“Something like it.”

“So you’re…”

“Yeah, still gone,” he tries to smile, but it makes your eyes water more, your hands shaking against his forearms as you reach up to touch him. “Unfortunately.”

“I love you,” you whisper the words and they sail in the wind in the world that lives in the in between.

“I love you, too,” he tells you. It hasn’t changed, and never will change. Time, space, and death will never erase that. “But I don’t have a lot of time. I need you to fight, okay? I need you to rest and heal. Think you can do that for me?”

“It hurts,” you say, and he knows you mean your mortal, wounded body.

“I know, I know it hurts. But there’s a doctor that’s going to come tomorrow and they’ll give you the medicine you need to kick that infection and patch you right up. I just need you to hold on till then. Think you can do that for me?”

His fingers trail down the side of your face, and somewhere in the vestiges of his mind he can feel your waking body relax, can feel your breathing deepen, your heartbeat strengthen.

“I want to go with you,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “No. It’s not your time yet.”

Your head drops, and his stomach does along with it. “Will you come back?” Your words are a watery plea.

It's a sad sound that has his anguish exposed, raw anew.

“I’ll try, okay?” It’s the most he can offer you, and you nod slowly, sniffling on an inhale. “You’re going to live a long, long life, okay? I want you to do that for me.”

“I will, Eddie, I will,” you promise. You slide back into his arms, pressing your head against his chest, keeping him close.

“I can feel this place slipping from my mind,” he says, palm sliding up and down your back. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”

You dissolve like that, held safe and sound within his arms, there one moment and gone the next.

In waking, in the real world, when his eyes open and he’s back in Steve’s bedroom, he sees you there.

It’s then, blessedly and finally then, that you rest.

*

Before long, it’s Spring again.

The weather warms, but Eddie’s body never does. Dead things don’t have hearts that beat, they don’t have blood to circulate through their bodies. His chest rises and falls, sure, but that almost seems like an involuntary reflex of a life that feels more and more like a memory with every passing day.

You’re on Steve’s patio with the Harrington boy himself and Robin. You look more rested than he’s seen in a long while. He thinks to the night before, visiting you in your dreams, laughter in the air as he brought a vision back to your mind, one of the two of you sitting in a field back before the world grew dark, him with his head in your lap and your fingers in his hair, reading to him in an open field.

He hates leaving you at the end of it, hates it every time he has to go, and finds it grows harder and harder to do so every time.

But it’s not reality; he knows that.

He supposes eventually things will crash and burn, just as they always do; he just doesn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

One moment you’re sitting, laughing at something Robin has said, and the next he’s wincing as a twig snaps under his foot. The swear he lets out drives him to move, cursing his body for giving him supernatural hearing and smell, but not the speed he needs right now to outrun you.

Your feet pound in his ears, a thump that beats in tandem with your heart as you tear through Steve’s backyard and rush after him into the open street.

His insides tear in two the first time you call his name into the open air. It’s a cry, your voice shaking, tremulous like you can’t believe your sight.

He pushes faster, feet pumping beneath him, the echo of them a drumbeat. He needs to go. He needs to get far away. Run like hell, because you can’t see him.

Steve’s voice joins into the mix. A call of your name that sounds frantic in his ears. Steve cares for you. Eddie’s not blind to it; he’s grateful for it. Just like he’s grateful for it now, because your footsteps start to slow as Steve’s cries of your name grow louder.

“It’s Eddie,” you shout back, and Eddie rushes around a car and crouches down in your momentary distraction.

Catches sight of himself in a side door mirror, his reflection illuminated by the moon.

His eyes are dark and rimmed with shadow. Lines like little swirls beneath his bottom lashes, a telltale sign he needs to feed. And if he lifts his lip, like he does now, he sees those elongated canines.

He’s no longer human.

Hasn’t been for a while now.

You start to cry in your frustration. He hears your breath coming in rasping heaves, the way your voice breaks as Steve’s body collides with yours, how it wobbles as you tell him over and over again, “It’s Eddie, Steve.”

His eyes drift up to his face once more. The image looking back at him so unlike the boy you once knew.

Even if he would…even if he could, your Eddie is gone.

He’s gone, and he can never be again.

He can’t be what you need. He knows that for certain now.

Eddie crawls around the side of the car and catches the sight of Steve moving to curl his arms around your shoulders, forms illuminated in the street lamp, the way your face crumples against his chest as your cries grow hoarse. The pitiful way you whisper, “I saw him, Steve.”

But Steve’s honest.

He’s always been honest, and it shatters both you and Eddie when he says, “Eddie is gone. I’m so sorry, but he’s gone and I wish I could bring him back but I ca—”

His words break off at the end because you shove at him. Hands coming up to push Steve backward. He doesn’t flinch. Not as you shove him again and again and again as tears leak down your face.

Eddie wishes he could collect them all. Could ease the ache growing in your chest.

“Why would you say that?” Your voice is high and tight.

You shove at him again, body growing lax with your efforts. Feet wobbling, knees growing uneasy.

Steve remains firm, a strong tower, a shoulder to lean on in your time of need.

“I’m sorry, swee—”

“Don’t call me that. He called me that.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and holds his hands up in surrender.

“I hate you.” You shout it at him, and this time Steve does flinch.

You don’t mean it. Eddie knows you don’t. In a heart full of love such as yours, there’s never been room for it.

It breaks him even more.

Something on your face changes then. A flash of recognition flickers across your features. A slow, painful understanding sliding into place behind your eyes. Eddie wants to rush out, to hold you, to protect you from the utter despair that crashes over your form so suddenly. The way you practically fall into Steve and he’s there to catch you as you come crashing to the ground, howling with the anguish of what you start to sob into the man’s chest.

Of the reality you now understand. Maybe for the first time in the twelve months he’s been dead.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I know.”

“He’s gone.”

Steve cups the back of your head.

Eddie’s hand curls into a fist.

“He’s gone.”

Steve pulls you into his lap, rocks you as your cries grow louder.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“He’s gone. He’s never coming back, Steve.”

Eddie watches your heart break all over again.

And he makes his decision.

He knows what he has to do.

*

You’re there, sitting in the center of your bed as always, when Eddie comes to you in the world that lives in the in between again.

After your close encounter with death, he’s come to visit you multiple times. Always in your dreams, in that land that’s always so dark, and yet it’s peaceful there. He can make it anything he wants to be, a horrifying ‘positive’ to being linked to Vecna.

Some nights you simply talk, your warm hand in his cold one, laying on your bed.

Others, you play cards, put together a puzzle, sing along to music because he misses it so much—if only to pretend like anything about this is normal.

Eddie doesn’t have a heart, not anymore, but if he did…he knows it would be racing because of what he knows he has to do.

This night is different; this night changes everything.

Your head lifts and your smile blooms as he fills your vision, his skin pale and unmarked from the bites that killed him, and it should have been your first realization that he’s not what he once was from when he first began visiting you in your sleep.

The man who died, the man who had closed his eyes and who slipped away your arms is not the same one standing before you now.

It’s why what once was can never be again.

It pains him to admit it.

In another world, another life, he would be selfish.

But he can’t.

He can’t fathom the idea of you aging when he stays forever twenty-one, can’t imagine losing you to time at the end of your life. He can’t think about it because doing so would break him.

And he can’t look at the pain in your eyes any longer. The way you always look to the woods, always searching for him, seeking out the boy who no longer is.

You need to move on, to flourish, to grow beyond this.

Your body crashes into his, your voice muffled by the front of his shirt. He’s always wearing the same thing, somehow never dirty, rid of his blood. “I missed you,” you breathe into him, into the chilliness of his body.

You never comment on it. He sometimes thinks you pretend it’s not real to preserve yourself from the pain of the ‘what if.’

He pulls his head back just enough to look down at you, and your mouth dips south. “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay…” You trail off as he settles down on your bed, his legs straight as you fold yours beneath your body where you sit beside him.

His fingers reach into the spaces between yours and lace within them. His next words, he thinks if he wasn’t already dead, might kill him. “I can’t feel you, baby.”

You brush your thumb along the back of his hand, mouth a wobbly pout as you say, “What do you mean? I can feel you right now. You’re…you’re right here.” You hold your interlocked fingers together in front of his face, trying to smile.

He leans forward and brushes his mouth near the corner of your lips. “I can feel you…but it’s like I’m hollow. Like I'm empty. You notice how I’m always cold now?”

You sniffle noisily, nodding. “It’s cold here, though.”

He brings your head closer to his chest. He presses your ear where proof of his life used to lay inside. Now it’s only silent.

Empty.

So fucking empty.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say? Don’t make me say it, sweetheart, please.” He chokes on a cry as your hand slides up beside where your cheek rests, your head pulling back enough to look up at him. “Do you get it now? Do you get why it can only be like this here…in your dreams, in our dreams?”

“Eddie…”

“So here’s what you’re going to do, okay? You’re going to live. You’re going to do it to the fullest. Do all the stupid shit we didn’t get to do together. Travel the world. Try all the food. You’re going to move on, okay? I need to know you’re gonna be fine—”

“Eddie, no” you say, swallowing the sob threatening to spill from your mouth. “Just stay here.”

“This—this isn’t real.” The chair imagined the night before disappears from sight. Dissolves into nothing. The books sitting on the floor near your bed, the ones you’ve been reading to him, follow suit. One by one, the image he conjured up slips away. Little particles of light sifting and shifting into nothingness. “I can’t be what I was to you before. That future we dreamed up? I can’t do that. I can’t give you that. Not in this body, not like this. And I can’t…I can’t watch you grow up, can’t watch you and all our friends...please, shit, please d—”

Your hand comes up to rest on his cheek, and he finds you crying silently before him.

“I want you to live for me,” he says, brushing his lips against yours. One of the last kisses you’ll share. “I need you to promise me that. I need you to do all the things I can’t. Take pictures, go on adventures, read all the books, find new hobbies. I need you to experience the world, fall in love with it, fall in love again.”

You’re kissing him and he’s holding you close. His hands fist in your shirt and cling to you, like you’ll drift into the wind, like if he lets go you’ll flutter away. And in a way, you will.

It’s goodbye.

It’s the end of who you both were, who you wanted to be, and no longer can.

You whisper over and over again into his lips that you love him, that you’ll never forget him, that you’ll live for him.

He smiles into your skin and nods his head, his hand coming to rest against your chest.

You’re alive and you're real, you’re his and you’re also not.

Part of you always will be.

“I’ll miss you. I’ll always miss you,” Eddie tells you, his face moving to press into the side of your neck. He feels the shudder of your breath as you take in his words, as you understand the seriousness of them. His finger taps your chest and he laughs, but it’s a broken sound. “I’ll be right here.”

You don’t talk for a while. You rest in the unspoken understanding that this is the last time you'll be together.

It’s the last time you’ll feel his arms around you, the last time he’ll hold you like he planned on doing for the rest of his life.

He presses a kiss to your brow and feels you hug him tighter still as you lay beside him on your bed, legs tangling with his own, your fingers in his hair.

You kiss endlessly. Constant presses of skin against skin.

A thousand, for all the days you’ll be without. You kiss until you’re breathless and in the waking world the sun starts to creep up the waiting sky.

“Live, sweetheart, live,” he says against your skin, feeling you warm, feeling your body start to fade in the circle of his embrace.

“I love you,” you whisper, eyes lingering on his face as particles of light burst and dance around you. Just a few moments now. “I’ll always love you. And I’ll do what you asked. I’ll live, Eddie. I’ll do it for you.”

“I love you, too.”

He smiles, and light bursts behind his eyes.

When he wakes, the sky is red, but all he sees is your face.

He finds peace in that.

*

Vecna’s gone now. Has been for a while.

The world heals and rests, and the Upside Down chooses Eddie. The world that once was, full of dark skies and death, is now teeming with life.

He’s tied to it now, just as he was before, but more so now.

There’s a small gap in worlds, left open, that he ventures out of every so often to remind him of the place that seems almost foreign now.

He’s on a path he’s traveled many times now.

Not in some years, but he’s familiar all the same. The winding roads that lead to your family home bring him to your front lawn. There are two cars out front, one a familiar BMW, and beside it sits a newer, bigger SUV.

The place looks different than when you were two kids in love. There are more flowers now, brighter blooms, and the smell of something sweet spills from the curtains blowing in the wind.

He hears the heartbeats within the home before the voices. Four all together. Two slower—he knows those are adults. There’s the rapid flutter of what he assumes to be a child, and the last is muffled and swift, unfamiliar to him even after all these years in his new body.

His head tilts up and he sees Steve Harrington’s familiar head of hair moving about a little boy’s room illuminated by a lamp. There are endless blocks strewn in a corner, little postcards from places all over the world plastered on the sky blue walls.

He’s nearly thirty two if Eddie remembers correctly, and wears a pair of thin wired glasses. He’s still disgustingly pretty in that way only Steve Harrington could be.

Steve’s voice is soft as he runs his fingers through the little one's hair. Brushes a kiss on his forehead from where he kneels beside a kiddy bed. “I told you, the Tooth Fairy is nice. Plus you’re four, little man, you don’t have to worry about it for a long time. And if you really don’t want the Tooth Fairy to come, I’ll tell them our house is off limits.”

“Are you sure?”

Steve nods, his chuckle carrying through the gently parted window. “Plus, Uncle Dustin and Aunt Suzie don’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

“They don’t?” Those little eyes perk up, soft and round like his father’s.

“No, Jamie. Also, didn’t I tell you I’ll always keep you safe?” The little boy nods, and Steve’s finger slides down the gentle slope of his nose until it wrinkles and a boyish giggle reaches Eddie’s ears. “So you never have to worry, because I’ll always protect you. Always.”

“Daddy, can you sing me the song?” It’s then, as Steve nods and shifts to sit in the bed beside his son, Eddie sees the boy fully.

He’s got Steve’s eyes and his dark hair, but Eddie immediately knows the rest is all you.

He doesn’t even need to see you appear in the doorway to notice the clear resemblance. But his breath catches all the same. You’re just as he remembers you. Smiling and beautiful as ever, one hand on the doorway, the other on your hip.

He catches the rings on your left hand, and then higher up, around your neck against your heart where he remains forever now, the ring he gave you all those years ago.

You're thirty-one now, just like Steve, though you could never tell ten years has gone by from looking at you.

You’re that girl from the diner, the same girl he fell in love with so many years ago it feels like another lifetime.

“Jamie Edward, it’s past your bedtime, sweet boy,” you admonish, and Eddie’s throat swells with emotion, chest aching with fondness.

He glows inwardly, because what a gift you’ve unknowingly given him.

Jamie Edward.

“Uncle Dusty scared me,” the little boy whines as you join them and sit on the end of the bed.

Eddie watches your fingers reach across and twine with Steve’s, and he feels that ache in his chest for you start to subside. The part of him that always feared you’d live in the past forever, stuck in the memory of the boy you’d loved and lost.

Steve whispers, “Tooth Fairy.”

You only nod.

Jamie climbs further into his father’s arms, resting his head over his chest, looping an arm around his waist.

Steve rocks the boy slightly and sings. The sound that comes out is beautiful. Uniquely Steve. Quiet, a little raspy in tone, but Eddie feels a weightlessness creep into his soul as the words fall from his mouth and out that open window.

“Close your eyes, have no fear. The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your daddy’s here…”

Jamie’s head nuzzles against his father’s chest, and your ringed hand comes up to brush along your little one’s hair as your husband sings into open air.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful…beautiful boy…”

Eddie turns on the heel and starts in the other direction, Steve’s voice following him along the way like a gentle caress.

A healing balm.

He walks down the path from whence he came, a new lightness to his steps.

There’s no bitterness, no sadness.

No, there’s only joy, because you’re happy and you’re alive and so full of it and that’s all he’s ever hoped for.

He kicks a rock down the road and hums to himself, glancing over his shoulder one last time to watch Steve kiss you on the forehead, his palm coming to rest lovingly against your slightly rounded midsection.

Steve moves away from you a second later to close the blinds and pauses. For a moment Eddie wonders if he can see him, hidden in the veil of his shadows. Steve squints and lingers, then shakes his head softly as though he thinks he’s seeing things, and shuts the light before he follows you out of Jamie’s bedroom.

Eddie smiles to himself.

He’s finally at rest.

[ellegreenawayslover]

HI!!!1! do u have any jelle headcanons ?1!?cuz I’ve been going insane and need more content to fuel my madness.. 🤫

Yes! I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately, so yes!

Elle is a lesbian, and JJ is bi.

Elle was the first woman JJ had a relationship with.

JJ impulsively kissed Elle during a case, then apologized, saying that she didn’t know why she did that. Elle kissed her again and said it was okay. 

They started seeing each other in secret after that. JJ wasn’t ready, and Elle was okay with that.

They didn’t hang out much outside work (because they spent so much time together during work. And even though what they had wasn’t too serious, they made little date nights when they shared hotel rooms and had to stay another night after closing cases.

After the scene where Derek (I think it was him) asks if she has a boyfriend, and then JJ joins, JJ definitely teased Elle about it later. Elle called JJ her boyfriend as a joke and she blushed so much. (I hope this one makes sense)

After Elle was shot, JJ spent a lot of time with her in the hospital until she was discharged. She even stayed with her for a couple of nights.

JJ also spent some nights with her after everything happened because she didn’t want Elle to be alone. 

Elle wrote JJ a letter before leaving, telling her she was sorry but she needed to go and that she hoped JJ could understand. The letter was the first time she told JJ she loved her, but she had been too afraid before that.

JJ kept that letter for years, even after she married Will. She sometimes read it all over again when she missed Elle.

JJ wrote a letter to Elle but just kept it for herself.

They met again after a case. JJ saw her in a bar. They talked and started a relationship again. (This is just like my fic Sailor Song because I love it, and it is basically some of my Jelle headcanons but in a fic.)

After that, JJ felt like she didn’t have to hold on to that letter anymore. Elle was there to tell her she loved her.

Michael started to call Elle “Ellie” a few months after she met him and Henry. Elle would only let him (and Henry if he wanted to) call her that.

Elle and JJ got married in the spring. It wasn’t anything big, as long as the kids were there, they were happy. 

A few months after the wedding, Michael started calling Elle Mama. At first, it made Elle kind of nervous, but she got used to it pretty quickly and loved it. Henry stuck to calling Elle, and she was totally fine with that, too.

Once, when Henry was sick, and JJ was out on a case, Elle took care of him, and he called her Mama for the first time. She was Mama for both of them ever since.

JJ’s Instagram could be confused with a fan page of Elle and the kids. Elle’s, too.

These are the ones I could think about right now, but I’m sure in about 30 minutes I’ll think about more, so if I get stuck on writing my fics, I might make a part 2 of this. Also, some of them are going to be in the second chapter of Sailor Song.

I haven’t forgotten about the ask about the Elle headcanons, I swear, but I just haven’t gotten around to writing them yet, but I will (someday).

[crazyunsexycool]

My little love

Chapter 19

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: badly written smut right at the beginning (idk why I kept writing it but whatever), fluff, a little bit of angst, Lottie has a vision, talks of a medical procedure (nothing graphic, like it’s really vague), some good fucking news, and Steve!

A/N: here is another chapter of our favorite family! Hope you enjoy. Next chapter we celebrate Charlotte’s birthday and you’ll get to see why Steebie was bad! 😉

Series Masterlist

Cold metal runs up and down your bare back, under your shirt. Slow and deliberate movements to get a reaction out of you. You shiver as your eyes flutter open. A sigh leaves your lips as you look at Bucky. His hair is disheveled, eyes reflect contentment and a sweet lopsided smile rests on his lips.

“Good morning.” He murmurs.

“It’s morning already?”

The room was still dark; the only light came from the lamp at his bedside table. It felt like you had just gone to sleep a few minutes ago. After three weeks of treatments for Henry the aftermath could be draining for everyone. He would cling on to either you or Bucky and you’d barely see each other at all. The only moments you had together was either in the morning or right before bed if you were lucky.

“Barely,” he said. “Don’t be upset that I woke you up. I just missed you.”

“I’ve miss you too.”

Bucky leans down to kiss you. There’s no urgency, it's slow and loving. Like his touch that moves without hesitation. It’s controlled and determined, slow and sensual. Bucky pushes his thigh between your legs. The silent invitation is clear and you seek relief for the need that quickly builds low in your belly for him. While you roll your hips against him, his hands and lips wander. A high pitched whine leaves your lips when Bucky places his attention on your breasts.

“You can’t be too loud, sugar.” He says before he’s kissing you again.

Without breaking the kiss Bucky pulls you on top of him.You brace yourself against his bare chest. When you pull back in order to catch your breath the desire you find in his eyes is intoxicating. Your shirt is tossed to the side to reveal that you’re only wearing panties.

“Don’t do it.” You say just as Bucky rips your underwear to shreds. “Really?”

“I need to feel you, sugar. I’ll buy you more, or better yet don’t wear them to bed, you look so pretty like this anyway.”

You shake your head but smile as you lean forward to kiss him again while he shifts beneath you and pushes down his boxers. With one arm around your waist to keep you in place he takes his hardened length in the other and lines himself up with your entrance.

“You’re wet already and I’ve barely even touched you.” He says as he slowly pushes in.

You drop your head to rest on his shoulder as his name spills from your lips. It’s a plea to go faster but he ignores you. Both of you moan when he’s finally buried to the hilt. Once his grip around your waist isn’t as firm you roll your hips once. But you needed more so you push yourself up so that you can look at him. His pupils are full blown and his lips are slightly parted. With your hands on his chest for leverage you lift your hips and bring them down again. This time it’s your turn to go slow in order to feel all of him. You do it again and again until he groans in frustration.

“Sugar,” he says as he sits up. Now you’re chest to chest, sharing the same air. “Stop teasing me.”

“Or what?”

He smirks and flips you over while still connected. Without giving you much time to adjust Bucky starts at a slow hard pace. You can only wrap your arms around his shoulders and pepper kisses along his jaw. A hushed curse escapes him as he feels you clench around him.

“You feel so good, sugar. Look at you taking me so well.” He murmurs before his lips are on yours.

You’re breathless as you beg for more. He watches you intently as you throw your head back and he can’t help but do as you ask. Bucky picks up the pace but he keeps thrusting hard and deep. He hits your g spot every single time.

“S-so good, baby. I’m gonna-“ you stutter the closer you get to the edge. All you need is a push to dive into unbridled bliss. You feel his left hand snake its way down and begin to circle your clit giving you that final push. Bucky claims your lips as you come undone.

It takes you a moment to come down from your high. Bucky’s changed his pace, It’s languid and soft. He murmurs praises in your ear while you finally run your hand up and down his back.

“I love you.” You whisper sweetly. It spurs him on to reach his end. Bucky lifts his head to look at you, his tongue pokes out slightly, running over his bottom lip. “I love you… you’re so good to me.” You murmur, he hissed when he felt you clench around him again. “Cum for me baby.”

After a few more sloppy but deep thrusts he spills his seed inside you. The feeling triggers another smaller orgasm. You both stay there for a moment. Neither of you move except for you playing with his hair. He kisses your chest and neck repeatedly.

“I love you, sugar.” His voice is muffled against your skin. Bucky moves slowly as he pulls out.

He places one more kiss on your lips before getting up and going to the bathroom. While you wait for him to come back you look down at the lightning style scars that sit over your ribs. It’s still there, outlined in black. You struggle a little bit to catch your breath. It isn’t until you feel the warm cloth between your legs that you realize Bucky walked back in.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m good. Just a little hard to catch my breath. But I’ll be fine.” You reassure him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. Now get back to bed.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bucky says as he lays down and pulls you closer. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Impossible, sugar.” He murmurs as he listens to your breathing even out.

“Mama look.” Lottie points towards the balcony door. Storm clouds have taken over the sky. Soon the rumble of thunder is heard. “Is boom?” She asks as she walks closer toward the doors to try and get a better look.

“No, I don't think that’s Thor. It’s just a storm so we won’t be able to go outside for a while.”

“No baby Steebie?”

“Not for now. But maybe there won’t be any rain in the afternoon and we can go see the goats then.”

“Kay.” She says before turning back and sitting down to play with the toys she had.

You sit at the desk in the corner of the room and prop up your tablet and call Bruce. Every day since arriving in Wakanda you would call Bruce to monitor the symptoms and the spread of the scars.

“Hey Y/N, how’re you doing?” Bruce said as he moved around his lab.

“I’m good, how are you and the team?”

“Good. We miss you all. I didn’t realize how much life the kids brought to the compound until they were gone again.”

“Hi Buce.” Lottie popped up beside you, waving and smiling at Bruce. You pick her up and sit her on your lap.

“Hi Charlotte, are you having fun in Wakanda?”

“Yeah, habe goats to pay wit. Ayo an koye is fwiend.” She informs him, making him chuckle. “Pay wit mama and dada and bubba.”

“That sounds like lots of fun.”

“Yeah, is fun.”

“She’s been very busy since we got here.” You add.

“I can see that. How is the treatment going?”

“Henry has made lots of progress. It helps that Shuri already had a plan to go off after having worked with Bucky. We think we are very close to the end of it.”

“Good, and how are you feeling? Any changes since yesterday?”

“No,” you set Lottie down and she runs back to her toys. “The scars are the same size and color. There’s been no symptoms either.”

“Hm, well we’re close to finding a cure for it. We also think we know who created it and why.”

“And?”

“With the intel we’ve received these last three weeks we believe hydra is behind it. They’ve used the same toxin in two other assassinations.”

“Great, so hydra is targeting me directly. I’m pretty sure I know why too.”

“From the communications Tony has picked up they seem pretty pissed that you caught one of their high level scientists and killed another. Not to mention that you were the one to walk out of both hydra facilities with the kids. It puts a pretty big target on your back. But on the bright side we are close to finding these people. The team has been working nonstop to find them before you leave Wakanda.”

“I appreciate that and I know Bucky will too.” You smile.

“Well I’ll let you go but please call me if anything changes.”

“I will, bye Bruce.” You say as Lottie runs up to you again.

“Bye Buce.”

“Bye Charlotte.”

You ran into Shuri’s lab with Charlotte in your arms. There wasn’t any time to waste as you tried to get your sweet Angel to breathe again. None of her visions had been this bad in a while. Shuri’s assistants pushed you away from the table as they worked around Lottie. Her lips were blue from lack of oxygen and she just lay there with open eyes staring at nothing. It felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest the longer you watched. Bucky’s arm was around your waist suddenly, you didn’t even know he’d walked in but having him by your side helped.

“C’mere.” Bucky murmured as he pulled you into a hug. With your hands on his chest you could feel his heart beating wildly as he watched helplessly. “She’ll be ok, she always is. Our girl is a fighter.”

Your knees buckled when you heard her cry, finally after minutes of this nightmare. If Bucky hadn’t been holding you, you would’ve been on the ground. You rush to the exam table where Lottie was crying and trying to fight her way off it.

“MAMA!” Charlotte screamed for you. Her once blue lips and pale face were now crimson as she looked for you in the sea of people surrounding her. “MAMA!”

“I’m here baby. My sweet Angel, come here.”

You wrap her in your loving embrace while she clings to you. Out of the corner of your eye you see Shuri and Bucky talking before he looks at you with a grim expression.

“Owies mama. Bad man.”

“Who gets owies?”

She takes a stuttered breath as she tries to calm herself down. “Mama has owies. Mama seeps, no wake up.” Lottie looks up at you through wet lashes as she continues to cry.

“It’s ok, mama’s not going anywhere. How about we take a bubble bath?”

“Mama stay?”

“Yes, mama is going to stay for a long time.” You kiss her forehead as you’re walking out of the lab.

****

“Here you are.” Bucky says as he peeks into the bathroom. You were drying Lottie off after her bath. She had calmed down and it was obvious she was sleepy but she was fighting it off in order to stay with you.

“Hey, is everything ok?”

“Shuri found something during that vision. Turns out that Lottie shouldn’t be holding her breath or freezing up like that any time it happens.”

“Ok then why does it happen?”

“Mama uppies.” Lottie says. You can see her trying to lift her arms but she’s wrapped up in her towel and can’t move them.

“Shuri found some kind of implant that sends signals throughout her body that causes muscle spasms and it extends into her not being able to breathe. It seems like Lottie’s brain produces a certain signal that activates the implant so that she reacts the way we see her react. It needs to be removed.”

“Once that’s out she should be fine then?”

“Shuri thinks so.” Bucky extends his arms in order to take Charlotte from you but she turned her head and hid her face in the crook of your neck. “Is she ok?”

“Her vision involved me. She said I had owies.”

Bucky tensed at the information.

“Where’s Henry?” You change the subject because you didn’t want to talk about the other part of her vision. Instead you sit Lottie down on the bed in order to help her get dressed.

“He’s with Ayo, he wanted to stay with her for a bit since she helped me break the hold hydra had.”

“Mm, ok. Alright sweet Angel you’re all dressed. Do you want to find bubba and go see the goats?”

“No. Stay wit mama.”

“Well we can go to find bubba together.”

“No. Stay mama.” She insists and pulls you onto the bed.

“Doll, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna protect mama and you and your brother. Let’s go find Henry ok?”

“No! Mama stay.” Lottie glares at her father as she stands between you and him.

“It’s ok, Charlotte. You and I will stay here while daddy goes and gets bubba. We can watch a movie all together.”

Bucky looks at you confused at his daughter’s behavior. He shakes his head but leaves to find Henry.

“Charlotte, are you scared?”

“Don’t want mama habe owies.” Lottie says while looking up at you. She pats the space beside her on the bed and you sit down, allowing her to crawl onto your lap. “Lobe mama.”

“I love you too, my sweet Angel. Everything will be alright.”

You sit with her for a while just cuddling.

***

“Mama.” Henry burst through the door with a huge smile on his face. “Mama I did it. I did it.”

“What did you do?”

“The words don’t work on me anymore.”

“Henry,” you whisper while setting Lottie once the bed and pulling Henry into a hug. “Oh baby, I’m so happy. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Henry cries in your arms and you can’t help but cry with him. Bucky walks in and sits with Lottie.

“Bubba kay?”

“Yeah doll, bubba is ok. Those are happy tears.”

“Mama kay? No habe owies?” Her concern for you was truly endearing.

“No owies for mama. C’mere doll.”

Charlotte stands on the bed and wraps her arms around Bucky’s neck from the side. He kisses her cheek as he watches you and Henry smile at each other.

For the rest of the afternoon you celebrate by watching some movies in bed with the kids. Sharing cuddles and listening to Henry and Charlotte have their own little happy conversation.

As soon as the kids had fallen asleep you went to meet with Shuri. She explained that hydra had implanted a small device at the base of Lottie’s skull that could read when she was having a vision. Since she was so young and couldn’t vocalize that she was in fact having a vision, hydra decided they needed a visual queue, hence the way she would stiffen. Shuri assured you the procedure was easy enough and Charlotte should recover quickly with minimal to no side effects. Together you come up with a plan to get Charlotte to the lab with minimal fighting or fear on her part.

You’d need back up so you made a call.

“Good morning sweet Angel.” You murmured softly as Lottie’s eyes began to open softly. She let out a little groan and turned so that she could keep sleeping. “Come on Charlotte, wake up.”

“Am seeping mama.”

“I have a surprise for you.”

That piqued her interest even if she was still half asleep.

“Suwpwise?”

“Yeah, look who came to see us.”

“There’s my best girl.” Steve walked up to the bed.

Bucky was sitting back recording the interaction. It was a well known fact that Charlotte was not a morning person. The scowl on her face was proof.

“What’s that face for?”

“Bad Steebie.” She glares at him.

“Bad? I just got here.” He looked confused that his best girl wanted nothing to do with him.

“Oh no!” You started laughing. “She had a vision with you when we first got here. She was really upset with you. I can’t believe I forgot about that.”

“Sweetheart, it’s just me. Your uncle Steebie, come here sweet girl.”

Charlotte looks at Steve and then behind him as if she’s waiting for someone else to show up. When she’s satisfied that no one else is there she moves from your arms to Steve’s. Lottie wraps her arms tightly around his neck as Steve stands and rubs her back.

“There’s my best girl. I missed you sweetheart.”

“Missed Steebie. Lobe Steebie.”

“I love you too.” Steve is grinning like a fool as he hugs Lottie. It has been a few weeks since they have seen each other so no one is surprised at the reunion.

“Mama?”

“Good morning sweet boy, look who came to see you.”

Henry sits up while rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. His face lights up when he sees Steve. Pushing himself up Henry runs on the bed and jumps into Steve’s free arm.

“Hey little man, how are you?”

“I’m good, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bub.”

“Guess what?” Henry says as he pulls back to look Steve in the eyes.

“What?”

“The bad men can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Steve’s eyes widen and then he smiles. “Really? The programming is gone?”

“Yeah, yesterday was his last session.” Bucky answers. The three adults in the room were overcome with emotions.

“That’s amazing bub. We’re going to have to celebrate with everyone when we get back home. But I am very happy that you’re safe now.”

“Can we go home now?” Henry asks.

“We have one more thing we have to do and then we can go home.”

“Pay wit baby Steebie?” Lottie asks, she’s more alert now and excited at the possibility.

“Baby Steebie?”

“Oh yeah, she named a goat after you.” Bucky informs his best friend with a laugh.

“If it makes you feel better Henry named the other goat after Sam.”

“Doesn’t really help but ok.”

***

The five of you spend the morning together. The kids play while Steve fills you in on everything that’s happened back home. At around noon Shuri informs you that her and her team are ready for Charlotte.

“Alright, it’s time for the procedure.”

“I’ll take Henry out to the gardens.” Bucky says and gets up asking Henry to go with him.

Without anyone to play with Lottie walks over to Steve and puts her arms up so that he would pick her up. While he distracts her you prepare the medication that Shuri gave you in order to calm Charlotte down before you head to the lab. With Charlotte having the serum you had a small amount of time between giving her the medication and it burning out of her system. With Steve’s help you give her the injection and he rushes down to the lab. After that it’s just a waiting game.

****

After about five hours Shuri finally walks out of her lab. She smiles in your direction and you are finally able to relax.

“Everything went well. Charlotte is being moved to a recovery room but she should be out of there by tonight. We will do one more check tomorrow but after that she should be fine. You would only have to monitor to see how she reacts to any visions. If nothing has changed please let me know.”

“You have no idea how grateful I am. You have given my babies a chance to have a better life. We will always be in your debt.” You hug her.

“I shall remember that.” Shuri jokes.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yes, the procedure went better than expected.” Shuri tells Bucky. “Now I will check on my little patient one more time and have someone get you.”

“Thank you Shuri.”

Shuri nods in Bucky’s direction before walking back into her lab. Bucky walks over to you and pulls you into a hug.

“They can’t hurt our babies anymore.” You say through happy tears.

“No they can’t. And I’ll end them before they can even try anything against our family.”

After a few more minutes of waiting a lab assistant walks out and leads you to the recovery room Lottie is in. Fortunately she’s still asleep so all you have to do is wait for the anesthesia to wear off. Steve walks in a few minutes later with Henry on his back because Henry was worried about his sister.

It doesn’t take long for Lottie to stir. Slowly she opens her eyes, she whines as she sees the unfamiliar setting. Bucky is at her side first, he gently plays with her hair and reassures her that she’s safe. The post surgery checks are good and with that you get the ok to fly back home.

Although Wakanda was lovely and you’re sure you’ll miss it, you really can’t wait to be back home. T’Challa, Shuri, queen Ramonda, Okoye and Ayo are by the jet to bid you farewell.

The flight was long but the trip was worth it. Back home the last thing you expected was for the team to be waiting for you, it was Steve’s idea. Of course they bypass you and they go straight for the kids. Both of them have lots of stories to tell. Sam is thrilled to know he is Henry’s favorite uncle but not thrilled at learning there is a goat named after him.

Bucky pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your shoulder as you watch the team and the kids interact. Both of you appreciate how loved the kids are.

Nothing could make this moment better.

Ch 20

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[changingplumbob]

CW: Moderate sim spice - Guide to content warnings

Glenn tried to be in the moment but it was hard. His mind was racing. Silver was an excellent kisser. The werewolf had said it had been a while but it was obviously like riding a bike. Glenn was quietly proud of being the first one to get close to Silver for so long but he wasn't going to tell him that. Silver might think it meant Glenn liked that he had been alone when the opposite was true. The man he was wrapped around had a good heart, and Glenn wished he hadn't shut himself off from society, from love. But guilt was a tricky thing. He didn't blame Silver for wanting to run away from it all.

*waves* Let me explain for anyone new. My sims have woohoo drives and like to get it on but I know reading that isn't enjoyable for everyone. The test below contains that so if you are only here for the plot, or it makes you feel uncomfortable, please feel free to skip the rest of this post. You will not miss anything essential to the plot by not reading it.

Silver: *between kisses* Watcher you do taste good

Glenn: *giggling* Thank you *kisses* I have a whole dental hygiene routine

Silver: I love that you take care of yourself

Glenn: I can take care of you to if you let me

Glenn could feel Silver start to smile. He ran his hand through Silver's hair and attempted to pull him closer. A foolish mission as they were already chest to chest, but he needed him.

Silver: You ready for me to take your pants off now

Glenn: More than, but let me see you to

Silver placed Glenn gently on the bed and bent down to take his shoes off before removing his own.

Glenn: You know, we kind of have matching shoes

Silver: What do you mean

Glenn: Mine are brown and yours are grey- or silver! Get it, because you're Silver

Silver: *chuckling* It's not to late for me to cancel this woohoo you know

Glenn: I was just trying to say I like it. It's like we were in different places but we still got matching shoes. It's cute

Silver: You're cute Babycakes

Silver pulled off Glenn's jeans and boxers slowly. Glenn felt nervous lying back as Silver examined him, and again he got the feeling Silver wanted to eat him up.

Glenn: Can I do you first

Silver: You sure

Glenn: Yeah

Glenn watched intently as Silver removed his remaining clothes far quicker than he'd done for Glenn. Silver then pushed Glenn back on the bed and straddled him.

Silver: Just use your hands

Glenn: But I want to taste-

Silver: If you do a good job I'll feed you some

Glenn blushed and focused on the task in front of him. He was nervous but Silver stroking his chest and face helped him keep calm. In the end, well, he did get a taste.

Silver: Come here

Silver pulled Glenn up and around so the pair were sitting on the edge of the bed. Silver pulled Glenn's face to his and peppered it with kisses making Glenn chuckle.

Glenn: Beefcake, what are you doing

Silver: You'll see but you need to understand... Werewolves are naturally stronger

Glenn: Promises promises

Silver: I'm serious Glenn. If I do anything that is too strong... anything that hurts you, you need to tell me

Glenn: But then you'll stop

Silver: I'll stop what I'm doing because I don't want to hurt you but I'll finish what I start okay? Don't deal with pain just because you think I won't bring you to a finish

Glenn: I promise Silver, I'll tell you if it's too much

Silver: Good, because I can get a little over enthusiastic sometimes

Glenn: Please, I am the most over enthusiastic

Chuckling, Silver leaned over Glenn's lap and got to work caressing him. Glenn had imagined what it would be like but it was better.

Glenn: Oh, um-

Silver: Too rough?

Glenn: No your hands are perfect I just... So for a potion of plentiful needs you need some pleasure and that's harvested when someone orgasms. Henri gave me some empty vials for it. Would you mind if when I do finish I channel some of that pleasure to be used?

Silver: Do you need like the physical-

Glenn: No, no no. No body fluids required. I just didn't want to do it without asking

Silver smirked and got off the bed to kneel in front of Glenn.

Silver: I don't mind that. Do you mind this?

Glenn: Mind what? You're not doing-

Silver kissed the inside of his thigh and Glenn twitched.

Glenn: I don't mind that

Silver: Uh huh, and this

And so Silver continued to tease Glenn, a kiss here, a soft bite there, until Glenn couldn't stand anymore and begged Silver to finish him off. As Silver enveloped him and his tongue joined in with his hands Glenn struggled to recall the spell for channeling the pleasure, unable to focus on much more than the sensations he was feeling.

When he finished and curled around Silver's head some brain function came back to him. He kissed Silver's back and looked up to watch one of the vials on his shelf fill up with the telltale pink contents. Rather than dissipate in to nothing the pleasure was being stored.

Silver: I was right, you do taste good

Glenn: And you give amazing head

Silver: What can I say, it's my centuries of experience Babycakes

Previous ... Next

[sophie1973]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by the lovelies @onthewaytosomewhere @firenati0n @bitbybitwrites @taste-thewaste and @tailsbeth-writes

I'm 5k into chapter 4 of Bloodstream and it's only halfway done so I expect at least a 9k chapter this time. Oops.

Tags and snippet under the cut (cause it's a bit NSFW)

"Alex," Henry says softly, his voice tinged with concern as he leans beside the bed. Alex’s eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused. "We have one more bottle left. I need you to drink this."

Alex struggles to lift his heavy eyelids, nodding weakly. Leaning close, Henry helps him bring the bottle to his lips, careful not to spill any fluid. Slowly, Alex takes a few sips, finishing the contents before easing back onto the pillow. Henry waits for a few minutes, his hand coming to push the sweaty curls off of Alex’s forehead. His face and neck are now a more natural color, but Henry still thinks it’s not enough. He knows there is a risk, but he trusts Alex. He has the means to help Alex more; it would be stupid not to use them. He goes around the bed and climbs on the other side. Shrugging off his robe on his left side, he rolls his sleeve and presses his wrist to Alex’s mouth. “Drink, Alex,” he commands, much like Bea did earlier, and Alex’s fangs elongate before piercing the skin. And well…Henry didn’t exactly expect this. As soon as his blood starts flowing from his veins to Alex’s mouth, a tingling sensation starts at the base of his spine, spreading through his legs and his back and ending in his throat as he tilts his head back and lets out a wanton moan that he had no idea he was capable of. An intense wave of pleasure crashes violently throughout his whole body as he feels his cock hardening in a matter of seconds. Every sip Alex takes sends electric pulses lighting all his nerve endings, and his heartbeat races, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid, his head starting to feel dizzy, and he’s not sure it’s because of the overwhelming euphoria and bliss he’s experiencing, or the more alarming fact that Alex is unwillingly draining him.  “Alex, stop,” he whispers, barely recognizing his voice in that breathless plea.

Tagging with no pressure @stellarmeadow @anincompletelist @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @piratefalls @miss-minnelli

@kj-bee @fckngyrs @thesleepyskipper @myheartalivewrites @ash-morrison

@theprinceandagcd @pridepages @orchidscript @blueeyedgrlwrites

[thewrittingratt]

okay awesome, thank you so much! and i agree, there’s a serious lack of charles content on here ❤️ would i be able to request a charles boyle x younger fem!reader who starts out a a new detective at the 99 and charles really obviously has a crush on her. she makes some throwaway comments about wishing she could be a mom and start a family and find “the one” and charles is convinced it’s him. maybe he ends up manipulating reader or baby trapping her during a hook-up (with no smut of course) or he kidnaps her even? honestly you can change it however you’d like for your comfort levels! and i’m fine with anything, also. thank you so much and let me know if you would like help brainstorming:)

A/N: I'm gonna be honest took a little bit of thinking but I like how this turned out! Sorry this took a little while but the power company decided to work on the power lines today

Also reader has a sister

It all started on a Tuesday.

A Tuesday that Charles would never forget. The blinds and the door to Holt's office were closed, indicating that something was up. Charles had asked what was happening "There's someone new joining the precinct. Fresh out of the academy." Gina answered from her desk.

The door opened and to Charles it felt like time frozen when he saw you. You were an absolutely gorgeous young woman. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Y/N L/N. Our newest officer." Holt introduced you. Your smile would forever been burned into his mind.

It was like he knew he'd never want to see you unhappy. "Thank you Captain." you said as you looked at everyone. Then it happened. Your eyes met his. He thinks he stopped breathing before Jake hit his arm. "Dude, she said hi." Jake informed him. Charles let out a breathy "Hi" and you smiled even more(if it was possible)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a few weeks since you joined the precinct. And it was obvious to everyone that Charles was completely head over heels for you. He'd stare at you from his desk, in meetings, on cases, hell even when you were interrogating a suspect.

But one day you didn't show up. He found it suspicious. You never missed a day so far. So he was worried. What happened? Was there an accident? We're you sick? He needed to know. So obviously he asked Gina.

"Hey Gina. Have you seen Y/N today?" Gina looked up from her phone "Oh yeah apparently her sister's having a baby." Charles only nodded. You had a sister and he didn't know? He though he knew everything about you. After all you were a very open and honest woman.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day you returned and Charles couldn't have been happier. I he could but not when he saw you showing Jake pictures of your sisters kids. "What are their names?" Charles asked from behind you, scaring you a bit since you didn't hear him walk behind you. "That one's Henry and that one's Seth." You said pointing to each of them when you said their names.

Later you were still talking about your nephews. "Geez. Why don't you just have a baby?" Gina spoke up, clearly annoyed. You looked at her "I wish I could have one-" you were interrupted "They why don't you Y/N?" Jake asked and you gave a shy smile "I guess I just haven't found 'The one' yet." You answered.

Charles lifted his head from his spot at the coffee machine. You haven't found 'The one' yet? Could he be that for you? Would you ever consider him? Even if you were younger than him? He thought about it most of the time.

It was the perfect daydream: You and him with one- no two kids, you cooking while he sets the table while the kids watch tv. He'd massage your feet when they got sore. He'd go to the store in the middle of the night for your cravings. You'd look so beautiful to him no matter what. He'd-

"Ow!" Charles yelled as he was burned by the coffee he was making. "Oh! Charles, are you ok?" your angelic voice asked "Yeah. I overfilled my cup." he explained as he watches you get some paper towels.

You helped him clean the mess as you spoke "I was wandering if you wanted to go to Shaw's after work? Me, Jake and a few of the others?" god your smile was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Uh- yeah, yeah sure." he stammered as he watched you head back to your desk. Could this be his chance? He sure hoped so.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out it was in fact it was his chance. Everyone was so drunk and you just kept going on about wanting a baby in your drunken state. He didn't remember much from that night but he remembered leaving with you.

The next morning when he woke up he was holding somethin- no someone. To be specific, you. He was holding you. And when he went to move you woke up with a 'hmm?'. He frozen.

What was he supposed to do? Should he say something? He didn't know what to do so he just lay there until you did something. Which wasn't for another twelve minutes but he didn't mind as long as he could be this close to you forever.

A/N: I hope you liked this. I'm just running out of ideas rn. so I'll make a pt2 later! but I hope you like where it's going!

[cantwritethetword]

(2024) TickleTober Day 6: Creak - Falling Asleep

Fic Descript - Sleeping in an old creaky house is a nightmare for Alex. Thankfully Henry knows exactly how to help his partner drift off. Literally just fluffy sleepy tkls lmao.

~A/N  - 👏 I 👏 AM 👏 SUPER 👏 BURNT 👏 OUT 👏 SO 👏 HERE'S 👏 A 👏 SHORT 👏 FIC 👏 FOR 👏 TODAY👏

Apologies, it's late af and I am NOT doing well for tickletober but hopefully you guys find this idea as cute as I did

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link 

TickleTober Masterpost

Alex hadn't slept in days.

Ok that might have been a bit of an overstatement. But laying in bed night after night, on the edge of consciousness, right about to drift off, only to be snapped back to reality by the walls and floors moving around him was enough to drive anyone mad.

No amount of tossing and turning could help. It didn't matter what position, or how many pillows Alex was in, he had no luck with Mr Sandman.

The only silver lining? All his wriggling didn't seem to bother Henry. Alex swore that man could sleep through an air raid siren.

Tonight, though, he was proven wrong.

After one too many groans from the house, it was Alex's turn. He let out a frustrated exhale, which happened to come out a little louder than he intended.

"Alex?" A muffled murmur piped up from the other side of the blankets.

Shit.

"I'm fine baby, go back to sleep." Alex whispered, though evidently it came out more grumbly than he thought, as Henry turned to face him.

"What's the matter love?" Henry said, his voice sounding much more conscious this time.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

Henry sat upright, not taking that for an answer. "Too hot? Too cold? Can't sleep?"

Alex sighed, too tired to continue denying it, and curled up under Henry's now outstretched arm. "This house is old."

Henry gently laughed. "Your intelligence never ceases to impress me."

"It keeps moving, and that keeps me awake." Alex huffed, accidentally blowing his hair upwards for a moment, making it fall over his eyes.

Without missing a beat, henry combed his fingers through the stray strands.

Alex hummed contently at the sensation. "That's nice."

"You always like it when i do this." Henry smiled, repeating the motion.

At a second hum from his boyfriend, Henry continued folding his fingers through Alex's hair, letting them flutter occasionally against his lover's ears just to hear the soft giggle that accompanied it. Henry's fingers cascaded down Alex's neck after a while, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them, before they circled round Alex's shoulder to rest against his sides.

"Still comfortable?" Henry double checked, knowing the last thing Alex needed was for the tickling to be too intense and wake him up.

Alex gave two content noises in affirmation, nestling his face further into his boyfriend.

Henry's fingertips trailed against Alex's ribs as he slowly closed and opened his hand, letting his detailed knowledge of Alex's body guide his movements away from any spots that were too sensitive for the purposes of this moment.

The occasional giggly shiver eventually transitioned to light snoring, as Alex finally drifted off into what would be possibly the best nights sleep he'd ever had.