#i need to get a steadier hand for it. but in my heart this is a promising start

[isthehorsevideocute]

If I see one more walk/trot adult ammy fly around the country/go overseas to go horse shopping I'm going to have a fucking aneurysm.....

[purkinje-effect]

thesis: mezzanine lights as underlit tables

conclusion: this idea is grandma approved

[yourstruly-caycay]

A "Loving" Husband

Yan! Poseidon x reader

Woo! My first time writing a yandere version of a character, and for the first time in forever I post something ehe.

Warning: yandere behaviour incoming

Synopsis: Poseidon never have any intention to tell Atlas, his son, about the inside of the golden door under the deep sea within the darkness. But, out of impatient and curiosity, Atlas bound to uncover the secret.

....................

The curious little boy finds himself in front of a huge golden door, a shiny one as it shines by the glimpse of the moon. He checks his surroundings once more to make sure he doesn't hear any doorstep near him as the window shows a scenery of the darkness of the sea. He sighs in relief as he's ready to find the answer that his dad has been avoiding to answer, “If this door is in this deep underground, what could dad possibly hide?” 

He tries to push the door, he keeps pushing to the point his face and hand turns red. “I can open it!” He courage himself  as it finally opened a little bit, small enough to fit his size.  

“Ha! Dad must be proud if he knows that I can open a door this heavy.” He pat his back proudly as he goes through the door. The inside of the room is exactly as he questions it, a room full of old neat treasures and artifacts on the shelves. Out of all the treasure he saw, he spotted something bigger. A beautiful and shiny marble statue of a life-sized woman sitting on a couch with a lot of jewelry on her and white silk dress, but he notices that the clothes at the waist part are ruffled, as if that part has always been touched. 

"Hmm, why does the ring seem familiar?" To get a better sight, he climbed to her thigh and sat on her. Observing the ring closer, he remembered the very same pair of rings in his dad's finger.

“But why is it on the statue? I thought mom was supposed to wear this? Perhaps I should try to give it back to her.” Carefully, his eyes focus on taking off the ring from the finger without realizing that his feets slip from the statue's silk dress as he’s hanging by the ring finger. 

Unfortunately, the ring finger cracks as his head knocks onto the floor. He rubbed on his injured head, displeased seeing the gold blood on his hand from the injured head. However, the feeling of pain is replaced by panic as he closes his mouth when he sees the ring finger shatter from the statue. In a speed, he grabs the statue's ring finger and sprints all the way to his room.

… 

By the next morning-

"WHY DO YOU NEED TO BE ANGRY JUST FOR A MISSING PART OF A STATUE?" 

The boy jolted up from the sudden loud voice outside his room, he immediately opened the door. His heart beats fast and eyes go wide seeing his father and mother arguing in the hallway with Hades and some staff hidden in the corner or running away because they’re too scared at the sight of Poseidon.

"WHY? I'VE WARNED EVERYONE IN THIS CASTLE NOT TO ENTER THAT ROOM EXCEPT FOR ME, BUT A HIDDEN INSECT SEEMS TO HAVE BROKEN INTO THAT ROOM! I’LL FIND THE FOOL AND SHRED THEIR HANDS."

"BUT THAT DOESN'T EXCUSE YOUR SUDDEN OUTRAGE LIKE A MAD MAN." 

“You insolent women-” Before Poseidon’s trident even near Amphitrite, Hades held his wrist and said in a stern voice. “Poseidon, calm down,” His eyes now turn to glare at him, but Hades still has the stoic face and staring back at him, “It’s just a statue, I don't know what's so special about that. But, if you’re still determine to punish the culprit, do it, but don’t throw the blame to the wrong person.”

And so, he put his trident down, his breath steadier and turned back to his usual stoic face, yet eyes still glare at his brother, “Just a statue? That statue is a prize possession of mine, worthy of my time to care for it.”

Hades can only sigh and shake his head in disappointment, meanwhile Amphitrite opens her mouth to say something while holding in the trembling voice with knees getting weak pressing down her fear as she stares back at him. The trident might not pierce her at all, but the sharp wind from the trident is enough to cause a scratch of gold blood to flow from her face.  

"You've got to be kidding me, Poseidon, everyone already fucking know that you're protective of that precious little statue of yours. I don’t know what’s so special about it, it might be more special than me, but have you even spared a little heart for your poor wife whom you married by your own choice? Why do you marry me if you never treat me like a wife?"

"Amphitrite," Poseidon said coldly, "Since when gods married for love? Just do your own job as a queen." 

Poseidon is finally out of sight as Amphitrite clenches her fist, glaring at her husband's back. "Tch, what did the statue do to make you this crazy?" she mumbles. 

"Amphitrite, I do apologize for his manners." Hades pats her shoulder as he sees her in a trembling state, she gazes at him with tears spilling from her eyes. 

"There's no need to apologize," she wipes her tears, "It’s his fault… no, it's my fault. How stupid and naive I am to agree to marrying him in the first place. I thought that maybe… if I become a good wife; a good mother, then maybe he can at least show an ounce of love to me like any lover does… what did I do to deserve this?" 

"Don't say that, it’s his fault for being immature." 

"Immature?" she snapped at him, "No no no, it’s insanity. I saw it in his eyes, the possessiveness and madness when the part of the statue is missing, all for the sake of that? I don’t know how long I will have to bear this. I can slowly go insane too for centuries living in this lifeless marriage, Hades, especially when the son he so much loved is not my own blood-" She gasped and closed her mouth, Hades got caught off guard hearing it.

"What?" He holds her shoulder, “What do you mean? Didn’t Poseidon announce to the whole Greek pantheons about you bearing his child?” Amphitrite isn’t able to hold eye contact anymore seeing the confused but angry Hades. 

"Mom..."Her heart drops dead as she turns in horror to see him trembling, the familiar uncomfortable expression when he has to witness the familiar scene many times.

"Atlas!" She runs to hug him, "Did you just see the fight? Oh, I'm so sorry to have you see that." 

"Mom... what do you mean?" 

"W- what is it?" 

"So, you're not really my mom?" His eyes are getting glossier each time passed along with his red nose. "Then, where's my real mom? Did she abandon me?" The tears fall as his crying sound is getting louder making her feeling more guilty, she hugs him tightly and pat his blonde hair. 

“No no, of course not my dear… she’s umm… she-”

“I believe me and him deserve an explanation from you, Amphitrite.” He glared at Amphitrite like a predator caged its prey, unable to let her run away from the problem. After a long uncomfortable silence, she takes a breath first and stands up to glance at him. 

“You both deserve an explanation… but, promise me,” she continued, “Don’t tell Poseidon, at least not now, okay?” He nods as she leads them to Atlas’ bedroom and locks the door. She sits on his bed as she massages her head, trying to find the best words to explain while the two of them wait for her. 

“I already knew Atlas when he’s only a toddler, I still remember the sight of Poseidon holding him…”

… 

~The night before the wedding~

To her younger self when she was still a naive princess, who was once frightened by Poseidon’s first sight. The way he always ignores her or glares at her when she makes a mistake. Hundreds of insults and mockery threw at her, driving her to avoid him even more throughout years staying in Poseidon castle as his fiance because her father thought that it’s a “good thing” for her to get familiar with him before the marriage.

When she’s ready to go to sleep, relaxing her tense muscles before tomorrow's marriage, the sudden strange calming sound arouses her suspicion. She opens the doors and follows the sound. All the way to the bottom of the sea floors. She found the source of the sound from one of the rooms and opened the door a little bit. Her eyes went wide at such a beautiful sight of the cold tyrant of the sea showing a small smile toward the unknown baby, holding the sleeping baby with such a gentle touch while humming a calm deep lullaby with the moon illuminating him heavenly like an angel. 

“Impossible, how can he be so cruel, yet gentle at the same time?” She mutter

“Women, what are you doing?” She jumped at his sharp tone, once warm turned icy in a split second. She slowly opened the door, welcomed by his unamused face. She clears her throat to not feel pressured by the awkwardness, “My apologies, Poseidon, I just happened to hear your heavenly lullaby from my bedroom, I can’t help but listen to it too.” 

She glanced at the sleeping baby, a smile growing wide fighting the urge not to touch the cheek, “So, who’s this baby? He’s just as beautiful as you.” 

“My son.” 

Silence came again, as her mouth slightly opened and eyes wide in disbelief. Unsure what to even say, “S- so, you’ve married before, then?” she frowned when he kept silent, “Where’s your previous wife?” 

“Passed away.” He said in the usual cold tones, but she knew underneath that  there’s a slight crack and irritation as his gaze now turned to the moonlight. Of course she passed away, or else Poseidon wouldn’t even remarry. However, deep in her heart she knew there’s a small crack discovered he’s used to love a certain woman, and now the baby is the only thing left of that woman. 

“Sorry to hear that,” she continued, “What’s the name of the baby?”  

“Atlas.” 

… 

~the night after the marriage event~ 

It was a cold kiss, but she received it welcomely despite his expressionless face throughout the whole wedding, but it’s okay. “It’s really okay, he’s probably not used to me yet. One day he will!” She patted herself. Emerald eyes sparkled at the whole sea regions and the Greek pantheon of deities and nymphs congratulated them, isn’t this what she’s been dreaming of? Marrying a handsome prince and living happily ever after? 

During night time where everyone has a great time of feast, smiling and chattering. While Poseidon were discussing with his brothers and several gods, Amphitrite was accompanied by Aphrodite and Persephone having tea together as the both of them enjoyed their little chats while she quietly listened. 

“Dear Amphitrite sweetheart, may I ask why you would want to marry Poseidon? It’s clear as day that he’s hard to be swayed by love.” Amphitrie got caught off guard with Aphrodite's question, she rested her chin on her hand thinking the perfect way to explain it. 

“Well, I’m aware that a god like Poseidon is difficult to read and likes to close himself off from everyone. I’m aware too that this is a marriage for political reasons, but time itself is impossible to read too, who knows it’ll take time for him to open up to me, and maybe I can fix him.” 

Aphrodite giggled while pinching her cheek playfully, “Amphitrite, I hope you can keep your words, I’ll give you the best gift if you can win his heart.” 

“Haha, to be honest, I’m used to being scared of him too, but when I saw him holding his son gently in his arm it’s like seeing part of the real him open up. How can I not want to win his heart and show his other good side to me too ?”

“Son?” Persephone gasped and stood in surprise causing everyone to look at them, “What do you mean he has a son?” 

Suddenly, everyone is freezed, tons of eyes now peered at Amphitrtie who was surprised too at everyone’s new discovery. “I- I thought everyone know that he has a child-” 

Suddenly Poseidon touched her shoulder and leaned her closer to him as he announced to everyone, “Yes, I do have a son… with her.”

Everyone including his brothers and her families are elated by the news, congratulating the couple as they continued the feast. However, Amphitrite snapped at Poseidon who’s still avoiding her eye contact, questioning his suspicious act… head feels dizzy as she frowned at the announcement. Suddenly, Zeus wrapped his arm around Poseidon and Amphitrite in joyous, “Congratulations on having a child! So it turns out you guys already did a dirty thing before the marriage, huh?” 

“Shut up.” 

“Congratulations, I anticipate meeting my nephew by tomorrow.” Hades shook his hand while laughing, yet despite the wonderful news, Amphitrite got left confused all alone watching the crowd in line congratulate them, leaving her deep in thought of her mind.

…

“Poseidon, what’s with all of this? I thought everyone knew about your son.” Amphitrite sat on bed facing Poseidon who’s changing his clothes to something more comfortable, once again avoiding eye contact with her. She clenches her fist when he has the nerve to ignore her question, “Not only that, but you LIED to them about him being my son in blood? What about your previous wife? How would she feel about this?”

“Don’t remind me about Y/n, Amphitrite.” 

“Y/n? So that’s her name, huh? Don’t tell me that no one also knew about this Y/n.” 

Another silent response made her more convinced, knowing this, she slowly moved away from him, his unreadable expression made her stomach twist. “Poseidon, why would you lie?”

What are you trying to hide?

“All you need to know is that I did all of this to keep her and Atlas safe from the gods’ eyes. If they ever discover the truth about them, I’ll gouge their eyes and shred their bodies to pieces where their mouth wouldn’t spread all over to other realm,” Amphitrite shiver at his calm tone, she felt her heart skipped a beat at his eyes finally made an eye contact, the eyes that threaten her as if a trident ready to strike her if she made a single mistake, “This include you too Amphitrite, just do your job as a queen and a mother, and I’ll turn a blind eye on you. Remember that this is a marriage that’ll benefit your family.”

… 

“That’s all I know,” Amphitrite steady her breath as she lies her head down, feeling uncomfortable with the silence, “It’s true, ever since that, I wouldn’t dare to ask him about her. I- I don’t- I don’t know why my foolish self is still trying to love him despite his undying love for his previous wife.” 

Tears spilled from her eyes, words unable to be formed as she cover her cry from them. “Why did I even keep pursuing?” She thought, but a sudden heaviness on her caught her off guard, uncovering her face to see Atlas hugging her. 

“It’s ok, mom.” Amphitrite hug him back with more tears spilled, her heart melt knowing Atlas is still calling her mom despite the truth. However, Hades is still standing across from her as he Massages his forehead, still surprised yet angry, but at his foolish brother. 

“Atlas, can you please change your clothes and go have breakfast? Your mother and I still have to discuss about… this…further through.” Atlas nods as he changes his clothes and unlocks the door to go to the dining hall, leaving Amphitrite and Hades alone in his room. 

Hades approach Amphitrite to sit beside her as his hand tap on her shoulder, “I’m sorry to hear that… I never thought he would do that.” 

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is. As his brother, I shouldn’t have been too lenient on him, he’s just using you for his own benefit.”Amphitrite shake her head, “It’s partly my fault too for not refused it and being naive, I was too scared by my own father,” clearing her throat as she jump to different topic, “But, about her…” 

“Y/n…” Hades humm, “So she’s Atlas' biological mother, why does Poseidon hide her from everyone? Out of shame?”

“Shame?” 

“Poseidon is a pride god, if he loves her that much, what makes him want to hide her in the dark? Have you ever suspected her identity and background?” 

Amphitrite put her hand on the chin as she recalled her moment when she was in the library, however it put a frown on her face, “I have try to search about her in the library, yet no books have had a record about her, so for now I’m assuming that she’s not a goddess from this pantheon nor a nymph.”

“Not even a nymph? How did you come up with that assumption?” 

“From Atlas of course, if Y/n is a nymph from certain creatures, he will have the appearance or characteristic of that creature, however none of it are in him.”

“Fair enough.”

 “How about you? Does the name Y/n sound familiar?” 

“That’s… the problem, it’s new and unfamiliar within this patheon nor any other places, never for eons have I ever heard that name,” Hades massages his head and sighs as the mystery causes a headache to him., sick of his brother’s antics, he stand up, “I will ask him right now, he’s the only one who knows the truth.”

Hearing this, Amphitrite immediately stand and holds his shoulder as she shakes her head, “Don’t! If you ask him he will immediately know I told you and will slaughter me,” she continued after steadied her breath, “Please, I’m not stopping you to research about her, but don’t directly ask him.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him about this too. He has been hiding this far too long, I’m disappointed at his oddly obsessive behavior-” 

“Hades, your shoes.” Hearing her gasp, he looked down and froze, seeing the crimson blood seeping from under the bed all the way staining his shoes. He kneels, and looks under it to discover the missing part of the statue — the ring finger — feeling the hard rock texture, yet when he touches the bleeding part, he shivers from the soft rotten meat and bone texture. 

“There’s a dead body of a mortal hidden inside a statue, how is it under his bed?” He frown, “Moreover, the ring on that finger-“

“It can’t be, that’s the same pair of rings that Poseidon has.”

[x0xomady]

Could you write something about Harry helping y/n through serious pain? Like labor or a chronic illness?

Little Love

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summary: just a lil blurb! the time has come for harry to become a dad and you’re not sure you’re ready (harry styles x female reader)

(i don’t know much about birth or labor, i’m a 20 year old with no kids. so don’t judge me if something is wrong lmao)

warnings: pain, pregnancy, labor, nothing too bad!

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

being pregnant is one of the scariest and most beautiful things.

as i lay there in bed beside harry, i couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling inside of me. it was amazing to think about the life growing inside of me, but at the same time, the thought of giving birth was absolutely terrifying. i worried about the pain, the uncertainties, and the physical toll it would take on my body. it was like i was preparing for a marathon that i'm not quite sure i’m was ready for.

as my hormones surged and my emotions became more intense, i often found myself overwhelmed by the enormity of the changes taking place within me. it was like a roller-coaster of sensations and emotions, and it was sometimes hard to find my footing amidst it all.

and yet, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over me, there was also a well of hope and joy deep within my heart. every time i felt the baby kick or heard its heartbeat, i knew there was something magical happening inside of me too.

i lay there, lost in thought, my eyes drifted over to harry. he was fast asleep beside me, his body sprawled out underneath the covers with one hand securely draped around my waist. his face was peaceful, and his chest rose and fell steadily with each breath he took.

i couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, feeling a surge of love and appreciation for the man who was soon to be the father of my child.

my hand reaches over and gently touches his cheek, marveling at how he could sleep so soundly amidst the whirlwind of emotions that were swirling around inside of me. i knew that he was excited about becoming a dad, but i also knew that he was probably feeling just as nervous as i was.

still, there was something reassuring about having him beside me, anchoring me to this moment despite the unknowns that lay ahead.

as i ran my fingers through his soft curls, his eyes slowly fluttered open, and he looked at me, his green eyes filled with a mixture of grogginess and concern. "hey," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. "is everything okay?"

"actually… i think the contractions might be starting," i finally admitted, a small tinge of fear creeping into my voice. i took a deep breath, trying to stay calm even as a wave of anxiety washed over me.

harry's eyebrows furrowed with concern as he sat up a bit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "wait, what? contractions? are you sure?" his voice was tinged with disbelief, but there was also a hint of nerves. he leaned closer to me, his hand reaching out to gently touch my stomach. "how long has this been going on?"

"oh god, i don't know. maybe an hour or so," i replied, wincing as a particularly strong contraction came on. i grasped his hand tightly, my grip involuntarily squeezing his fingers.

harry's eyes widened with a mixture of shock and concern. "okay, okay. don't panic." his voice was steadier now, although i could still hear the subtle tremble of nerves. he gently took my face in his hands, looking into my eyes. "we need to time these contractions, okay? see if they're far apart or getting closer together."

i couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me when i saw harry’s reaction. i don’t know who’s more worried, the person about to go through labor or the panicked british guy.

harry raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "what? what are you laughing at, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement. the fear that had momentarily gripped him seemed to leave slightly, replaced instead with a tender warmth in his eyes.

"oh, nothing," i replied, shaking my head slightly as i winced again at another spasm of pain. "it's just funny, you know? here i am going through the beginnings of labor, and you're the one freaking out."

harry chuckled lightly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "well, can you blame me? this is some pretty scary stuff," he admitted, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.

i nodded silently, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. i knew it wouldn’t be easy, but having him beside me made me feel like i could face anything. i snuggled closer to him, burying my face in his chest as another contraction gripped me.

"breathe," harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing my back. "just focus on your breathing. in and out, slow and steady. you got this, sweet girl."

i nodded, taking a shaky breath as another contraction hit me. i focused on the feeling of harry's hand on my back, letting it ground me and keep me from succumbing to the pain and fear that threatened to consume me. slowly, the contraction passed, leaving me feeling drained and exhausted, but reassured that i wasn't alone in this.

"how far apart are they now?" i asked, my voice hoarse with strain. my hands gripping harry’s larger ones tightly.

harry glanced at the clock on his phone, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the time. "about five minutes," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "they're getting closer together. we should probably start thinking about heading to the hospital soon."

my heart leapt into my throat as harry gave me the news. five minutes apart already? fuck, this was happening a lot faster than i had thought it would.

"okay," i took a deep breath, trying to steady the panicked feeling that was welling up inside me. "okay, let's do this. help me get up, and let's pack the bags. we need to get to the hospital."

harry nodded silently, his expression serious as he quickly kicked off the blankets and got out of bed. he grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, keeping a supportive arm around my waist as we made our way to the closet to grab our bags.

we moved quickly and efficiently, our nerves and excitement fueling us as we rushed around the house, gathering anything we thought we might need for the hospital.

finally, with our bags packed and essentials in hand, we headed to the car. harry helped me into the passenger seat, quickly tossing our bags into the trunk and then getting into the driver's seat. as he turned on the car and pulled out of the driveway, i could see the anxious tension in his eyes.

the drive to the hospital was a blur of nerves and discomfort. harry's knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and i could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he willed himself to stay calm.

the contractions continued to come at regular intervals, each one making me gasp and clutch at whatever surface was nearest.

“fuck- harry” i groan out in pain.

harry glanced quickly over at me, his face immediately creased with concern. "what? what is it? are you okay?" he reached over and grabbed my hand, his grip tight and desperate.

"no- i’m not alright. the contractions are getting stronger," i whimpered, my breath hissing between clenched teeth. "can we get there any faster? please?"

harry let out a low curse under his breath, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "i'm going as fast as i can, okay? just try to breathe, sweetheart. we're almost there."

i nodded weakly, my chest heaving with each breath as i fought against the pain. i clung to harry's hand, finding some small measure of comfort in his presence. with each contraction, the fear and anxiety seemed to build, mingling with the intense pain and leaving me feeling overwhelmed.

"just think," harry said, his voice suddenly quiet. "when we get there, we're going to see our baby. our son or daughter. that's worth it, right?" a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and i couldn't help but cling to the hope in his words.

i nodded again, closing my eyes and trying to picture it. i could almost see the tiny, wriggling bundle in my arms, hear the soft, sweet sound of its cry. somehow, just imagining it made the pain a little easier to bear.

before i knew it, we were pulling into the hospital parking lot. harry helped me out of the car, his arm wrapped securely around me as we limped towards the entrance. we were greeted by a group of nurses who ushered us inside, quickly guiding us towards the maternity ward.

as we entered the hospital, the nurses couldn't help but steal glances at harry, their eyes widening slightly in recognition. a few of them even whispered to each other, their voices tinged with excitement as they recognized the famous singer.

it was strange to see the star-struck reactions of the nurses, but i couldn't blame them. harry was a celebrity, after all. one nurse even gasped quietly under her breath, "is that…?"

but despite the subtle buzz of excitement around us, harry's focus never wavered from me. he held me close, his gaze fixed on me as we continued making our way to the maternity ward.

to be honest, it was a little irritating to have so many eyes on us as we navigated our way through the maternity ward. i was in pain, and the last thing i wanted was to be the center of attention. but i could feel the gazes of the nurses following us, their whispers echoing in my ears. it made me feel like a zoo exhibit, on display for everyone to gawk at.

harry, though, seemed to take it all in stride. he kept his arm tightly around me, his focus entirely on me and getting me settled in.

i could tell that he was a bit uncomfortable with the attention, but he never once let it show. instead, he simply gave the nurses a small smile remaining his normal charming self and guiding me toward the room.

once we were alone in the room, the door closing behind us, i finally let out a long sigh of relief. the bright lights and antiseptic smell of the hospital environment was a far cry from our cozy bed at home, but at least here i would have the care and support of the medical staff. and, of course, the unwavering presence of harry by my side.

harry helped me onto the hospital bed, the crisp white sheets cool beneath my skin. he sat down beside me, taking my hand in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"how are you feeling, love?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand.

“like absolute shit…” i mumble, managing a tiny smile at the thought of our baby.

harry chuckled softly, his thumb still tracing circles on my hand. "yeah, i can only imagine. but hey, think about it. we're about to see our baby, y'know? that should make it all worth it," he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

i smile weakly at that, nodding in agreement. the thought of holding our baby in my arms for the first time was enough to make me forget about the pain, at least for a moment. "yeah, that's true. i can't wait to meet them," i said, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with the exhaustion and pain.

harry leaned closer, his breath warm on my cheek as he reached out to cup my face. "i love you," he said softly, his voice full of emotion. "and i'm so proud of you for being so strong through all of this."

i felt a wave of warmth spread through me at his words, banishing the earlier irritation at the nurses' stares. "i love you too," i whispered, feeling a fresh wave of determination wash over me.

we sat together in silence for a while, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound aside from our gentle breathing. the contractions continued to come and go, each one growing more intense than the last, but i found comfort in harry's presence, in his unwavering support and love.

after a few moments, there was a gentle knock at the door, and a nurse poked her head inside. "how are you doing, mrs. styles?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern for me. "are you ready to have us take a look and see how far along you are?"

i nodded, feeling a surge of nervousness mixed with excitement. "yeah, i think i'm ready," i said, my voice a little shaky. harry squeezed my hand again, silently reassuring me that everything would be okay.

the nurse nodded and left the room, returning a few moments later with a few other medical staff. they quickly got to work, hooking me up to monitors and checking my vital signs. the room was suddenly buzzing with activity as they prepared for the upcoming delivery.

despite the commotion, i felt strangely calm, my focus entirely on harry's reassuring presence beside me. as the nurses bustled around us, checking my dilation and positioning, i held onto his hand, finding strength in his touch.

harry saw my worry and smiled a little bit. “ya know… i already have my first dad joke lined up.”

i roll my eyes and sigh already knowing where this was going.

harry grinned mischievously, clearly pleased at my reaction. "yep. i've been practicing for months now. want to hear it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

i couldn't help the eye roll that passed over my face, but deep down, i was secretly looking forward to hearing his terrible joke. "okay, fine. hit me with it," i replied, unable to hide my amusement.

harry cleared his throat, his demeanor changing into a mock serious expression as he delivered the punchline. "why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" he asked, pausing dramatically.

despite my amusement, i couldn't help but play along. "i don't know, harry. why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" i repeated, struggling to keep the smile off my face.

harry's grin widened, and he leaned in close, an exaggerated whisper escaping his lips as he delivered the punchline. "because they're all too shallow!" he said, his green eyes bright with a mix of humor and anticipation.

i groaned inwardly, but at the same time, i couldn't help but laugh. it was so silly, so predictable, and yet, there was something endearing about the fact that he had been practicing this joke for months. "oh my god, harry. that was terrible," i said, shaking my head with fond exasperation.

harry chuckled, clearly pleased with my reaction. "oh come on, you know you loved it. admit it." he teased, giving my hand a light squeeze.

“i love you but i hate your shitty jokes” i grin and roll my eyes at harry’s big dumb smile.

harry chuckled again, his smile growing wider. "yeah, yeah. i know. but you still laughed, so who's the real winner here?" he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. despite the corny dad joke, i couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a surge of affection for the goofy, lovable man beside me.

“yeah, yeah save it for the baby.” i giggle and shake my head. despite the pain and worry i had, harry made me feel truly happy.

harry grinned once more, clearly enjoying the banter. "hey, our baby is going to need some entertainment too. might as well start practicing now."

i shook my head, but inside i felt a warmth spread through me at his words. here we were, about to bring a new life into the world, and he was still making me laugh with his silly jokes.

just then, the nurse re-entered the room, a gentle smile on her face. "mrs. styles, i think you're ready to start pushing now." she said softly, her eyes filled with encouragement.

my heart leapt into my throat at her words, the reality of the situation fully hitting me. i took a deep breath, looking over at harry and seeing the mixture of excitement and anxiety in his eyes.

"okay. i'm ready," i said, my voice tinged with determination. harry smiles and gives me an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

for the next few hours, time seemed to blur into a haze of pain, exhaustion, and sheer willpower. with harry's hand tightly grasping mine and the steady encouragement of the medical staff, i pushed as hard as i could, each contraction bringing us closer to meeting our baby.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the room was filled with the sound of a baby's cry, the sweet and unmistakable sound of new life. the nurse placed our bundle of joy gently on my chest, and tears filled my eyes as i looked down at our child for the first time.

harry's eyes lit up as he gazed down at the tiny, wriggling baby in my arms, his expression filled with awe and sheer adoration. "it's a girl," he breathed, his voice choked with emotion.

"we have a daughter." he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of our baby's head, his love and joy palpable in the air.

i felt a rush of emotions as i cradled our daughter in my arms, the pain and exhaustion of labor fading into the background. in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming love i felt for our child and the man beside me.

harry reached out, gently stroking our daughter's soft cheek. "she's perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "absolutely perfect." i leaned my head back against the pillows, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over me.

the room was filled with a gentle quiet, broken only by the soft sound of our daughter's shallow breathing and the occasional whisper from the medical staff taking care of us. i felt a sense of awe and disbelief, finally understanding the true miracle of life and the immense love that comes with it.

“so which name are we going to pick?” i ask looking up from her little pink face to see harry looking at her with wide eyes.

i look down at our daughter, her little face scrunched up in a frown as she slept peacefully in my arms. "what do you think, love?" harry asked softly, wrapping an arm around me and gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face.

“how about… lilah?”

"lilah," i repeated, trying out the name on my tongue. i liked the way it sounded, how it rolled off my tongue. "it's pretty. i like it." i looked up at harry, seeking his approval.

he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "yeah, i like it too. lilah. it's perfect." he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his hand coming to rest on the bundle in my arms. he leans down and whispers softly to our daughter. "lilah styles… welcome to the world little love.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

just a sweet little blurb nothing too fancy! hope you love it ! <3

-xoxo⋆₊ ⊹

[jasmines-library]

Hey Jasmine, sry idk if ur taking requests of not but I was wondering if I could do a supernatural fic where the boys take their sister out to hunt some werewolves but their sister gets scratched and has a bad cut and has a panic attack, it’s up to the boys to calm her down and get her stitched up…

Caught Off guard.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•

hey hey hi! thanks for the request anon! I actually have something fairly (?) similar here! but i wanted to write this for you too. sorry its a little short.

Word Count: 733

Warnings: Blood. stitches. panic attack.

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

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The wound was deep. And it hurt like a bitch. That was for certain. Three, ragged gashes splashed across your torso from just below your ribs to your belly button. Your blood seeped from it like paint, staining the fabric of your shirt and beading across the smooth expanse of your skin. 

The werewolf had caught you off guard. You and your two brothers Sam and Dean had been hunting the pack for just short of a week now and you had managed to take them down without much of a problem once you found them. However, werewolves were clever. And this one had decided to play smart.  It had caught you just as you were about to leave, it had jumped out from its hiding spot at the last second, slashing at you in the process. You screamed, the sound ripping from your lips as your flesh tore open. Your brothers were on the creature quickly. But not quick enough to stop the damage from happening. 

Your wound burnt. Skin searing with an immeasurable pain as you looked down at it, fingers moving to touch it only to come away tainted with blood. And then Sam was in front of you. His slender fingers resting on your cheek, tilting it to look up at him. 

“Hey. hey. Look at me.” Sam said. His voice broke through the haze you hadn’t even realised you were in as he tried to coax you into following his instructions. Despite the panic he was feeling internally, his face betrayed nothing. His eyes were soft and calming as he tried to soothe you. “Breathe,” he told you. 

You hadn’t even noticed until now, too hyper fixated on the wound, that you were hyperventilating. Your chest was heaving, a rasp sounding in the back of your throat as you struggled to suck in air with tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The all too familiar feelings of a panic attack hit you full force.

“Calm down.” Sam told you gently. “You’re okay. You’re alright. Breathe.”

You sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady your breathing. 

“That's it, Sweetheart. Good.” Dean’s hand was on your shoulder. The other one reached to pull your hand away from your wound, placing it on his chest to urge you to follow his breathing. The feeling of his heart beat beneath his shirt was grounding. Slow as steady. 

Another breath. Another second trying to slow your breathing and the rapid rise and fall of your chest which caused a disturbance in your wound, only adding to your pain. 

“Good girl.” Sam said softly as your breathing slowed. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine.”

Dean gave your shoulder a squeeze, trying to hide the grimace as he looked at your wounds. Red raw and still oozing blood. “....she’s going to need stitches.”

Your breath hitched, but Sam squeezed your hand. “It’ll be over quickly, princess. Okay?”

You bit your lip, swallowing thickly before nodding hesitantly. Dean moved quickly, grabbing the first aid kit from Baby before sanitising the needle and threading it before handing it to Sam, who has a steadier hand. Dean’s hand replaced Sam’s gripping yours tightly as Sam reddied the needle, positioning it over your skin.

“I’ll be gentle as I can, ok kiddo?”

You nodded, trying to look anywhere but Sam and the needle in his hand.

“It’ll be a quick pinch, okay sweetheart?” Dean reassured me. “You can squeeze my hand as much as you need. Okay?”

“.....okay.”

After taking a breath, Sam pushed the needle into your skin to make the first stitch. His fingers moved with swift precision, determined to get this over as quick as possible and keep it as painless for you as he could. You couldn't help the small whimper that slipped out of your lips as you gripped Dean’s hand tightly.

He squeezed your hand back reassuringly. “That’s it kid. Just a little more.”

Sam worked nimbly, closing the wounds with a  few stitches before covering them with a gauze pad and bandages just in case. When he was done, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, allowing you to take a breath.

“All done sweetheart. It’s all done. It’s over.”

You shuddered a sigh, relaxing back into Dean a little bit who gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. 

“You did good kid. So good.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @rosecentury

[geordikisser]

comforting you! | isaac, nick & blake

epilogue: continuation from my hcs post! :-D i previously made one of tanner & larry if you’re interested in that piece as well! basically something very personal came up. sorry if yumis sucks 😞😞 i failed u all..

content contains! angst, suggestive ( yumi )

⤷ gender isn’t specific! (gender neutral.)

♡ isaac: you clenched your teeth as tears poured down your cheeks. you would rather be caught dead than like this. you feel your face heat up, audibly sobbing a little too. you shakily reach for your phone and swallow your pride and called isaac. you knew you being alone isn’t what you needed. as you even clicked the call icon, you hear a knock on the door. your heart drops as you quickly wipe your face dry instantly. “yes?” your voice being drowned out from your tear & snot stained shirt. “baby? i’m coming in, ok?” that loving, honey-dripping voice made your heart flutter. “i-isaac?” you accidentally stammer out. he opens the door and gives you a goofy smile. “i got food, did you not see your phone?” his smile falls as he furrows his brows. “baby? what’s wrong.” he notices his phone ringing from you and he felt so horrible. “my poor baby, let me hold you.” he ushers towards you and sits besides you instantly, his arms opening to embrace you.

you felt those familiar tears well up once again and you fall into the embrace. “i missed you so much!” you sob out as he shushes you gently. “i’m here baby, i’m here. don’t ever worry, i’ll always be here.” he hums to you. your breath hitching as you try to recollect yourself. “i know me being gone for 20 minutes didn’t do this. what’s up.” he pulls away, wiping your tears away. you sigh, shuddering slightly. “i- can’t get into that.” you murmured under your breath slightly. he nods, his face meeting your own. “i’m so ugly.” you cover your face, shying away from him. he instantly pulls you back. “no you aren’t. you’re beautiful. you are a thing of beauty. never once have i ever doubt that.” he kisses you cheeks, tracing down to your jaw. “i love you so much my beautiful baby.” he lies you down and wipes the rest of your tears away. his tender hand meeting your worn out face. “you don’t need to tell me anything, okay? but i’d love to know.” he kisses your jaw continuously. “you are ok, i promise baby.” he whispers to you. “i’ll tell the guys to save food for you, okay?” you nod weakly, your hand interlocking with his own. your thumb rubbing on the back of his hand. his gaze being a soft, reassuring one.

♡ nick: you felt uneasy, you were feeling everything but yourself. nick was coming back from the gym as this panic rises in your chest. you feel the heat in your face become unbearable, overwhelming, and started to cry. you began to weep and weep quietly from how overwhelmed you were. you felt so hot and itchy and crazy. you tried to pull your hair back away from your face and couldn’t process anything properly. you chewed on your bottom lip as you began to sob. as the front door jingles, a familiar key sound following it. you recollect yourself and try to stand up, your body lying on the cold floor in the living room. the door opens and nicks eyes are instantly on you. “babe?” he drops his gym bag instantly. closing the door behind him and locking it right after. he rushes towards you and brings you to your feet, instantly falling into his arms. “hey hey hey! what’s up.” he asks worryingly, seating you two on the couch. you crawl close. as close as you can get to him. “i’m so sorry.” you sob into his shoulder as he shushes you. “you have nothing to be sorry for, look at me honey.” your breath hitching as you pull away to look at him.

“what happened, baby? tell me.” his eyes softening. “i- i feel really overwhelmed. i feel so itchy and hot and i can’t breath!” you exclaim, tugging as your shirt. he nods as he pulls your hair back for you with his steadier hands. “this heat getting to you, my dear?” he smiles weakly at you as you nod, clipping your hair back to keep off your face. “i’m sorry this heat is getting to you my pretty baby.” he kisses your temple and his hands envelope yours. “despite this heat, you look iridescent in my eyes.” he coos sweetly as you huff, looking away. “you must’ve felt so weak, i’m sorry honey. next time ill leave the ac cooler for you.” he rocks you back and forth, lifting the back of your shirt up to get some cool air up your shirt. “let’s get you in a thinner and shorter shirt, ok? this long sleeve might be getting to you.” he gestures you to stand with him and you nod. “i’ll always be here to help you, always.”

♡ blake: you reach out to yumi, shaking him awake. it was rather late and you felt like your head was gonna explode. “hmm—.. ugh, fuck.” he groans, bitterness taking his tone. “blake!” you stammer out weakly. his eyes shooting open. “what..” he groans groggily. sitting up. he turns to you and see your eyes welling up. “babe? the fuck happened?” his mouth getting the best of him. you stutter out what the dream was about as you fiddled with your hands anxiously. he nods as he takes your hands into his and uses his thumbs to caress the backs of your hands. “i’m so sorry you had to see that, baby.” he frowns slightly as he kisses your forehead, decorating your face in kisses. you let a few tears fall as he hums gently. “ahh don’t cry now, okay? you’re strong.” he grunts, squeezing your hands. “you are stronger than you know.” he looks at you, a small smile on his face. “you are so strong, babe. don’t let some dream take over that.” he kisses you once more but it’s tickled with passion. you feel your eyes soften as you melt into his kiss. you fall back onto the pillow, yumi hovering over you. his hands still in your grasp, his face heating up. “seeing you like this hurts me too. my strong baby getting fucked up by a dream? i won’t let it happen again. not on my watch.” he kisses your jaw gently, slowly tracing to your neck. you whimper softy as yumi smirks, chucking slightly. he lifts his head to to make eye contact with you. his eyes half lidded, barely opened. his gaze a mix with sleepiness and lust slightly. “i can make you forget that dream.” he offers with a grin. you giggle as you push him slightly. “stoppp..” you groan, yumi chuckling. “you strong, baby. you are so smart and loving. don’t loose that vision because of a bad dream.. i love you.”

[sosa2imagines]

You, me and Vegas! Part 12

Warning- Fluff, angst. realization.

After his parents left, Bucky was restlessly and desperately trying to call Peach on her phone.

Bucky's heart sank when he looked around the living room and noticed Peach's phone lying on the coffee table. She had left it behind in her haste to leave, and he couldn't call her to apologize.

He picked up the phone, looking at the screen. It was ringing, but of course, there was no response. She was probably already at Wanda's. He put the phone back down, feeling even more guilty and frustrated than before.

Bucky was still pacing around the apartment, unable to calm his thoughts. He couldn't stand the silence and solitude any longer. He needed to talk to someone, to get a different perspective on the situation.

He picked up his phone and called Steve, hoping he wasn't busy.

Steve sat down next to him, still in shock. “God, Buck,” he said, shaking his head. “You're a real piece of work, you know that?” He sounded a bit scolding, but his eyes were filled with more concern than anger.

Bucky closed his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered. “I royally screwed up. Big time. I hurt Peach. And I don't know how to fix it this time.”

Steve took a moment before responding, letting the pieces fall into place. “Wait a minute,” he said suddenly, realization dawning. “Is this why you've been so...happy lately? All smiley and all that?”

Bucky looked at Steve, his expression sheepish. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Peach makes me happy. She's just...she's different. She understands me, and she's so good to me, even when I don't deserve it. She has made me realize, that I don't have to be serious all the time. I can find happiness, in even smaller things in life. I don't have to be what my parents want me to be...”

Bucky ran a hand through his hair again. “But tonight, I let her down,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “I stood there like a coward and let my parents insult her right in front of me. I let her leave without saying a word. I've been a total prick.”

Steve could see the pain and frustration in Bucky's eyes, and he understood. He had seen firsthand how controlling and critical Bucky's parents could be.

“Bucky,” he said, his voice gentler now. “It's okay. It's never easy standing up against your parents, especially when they're like that. So…you have fallen in love with Peach, huh?”

Bucky nodded, a small, sad smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “I have. I love her. I didn't want to, I tried so hard to not fall for her, to not get so attached.”

He looked at Steve, his eyes filled with pain. “But I can't help it. She's just...she's everything I've ever wanted, but didn't know I needed. And now I've royally screwed it all up.”

Steve sat silently, listening to Bucky's confession with a mixture of concern and understanding. After a moment, he asked, “Have you tried talking to her?”

Bucky shook his head, looking down at his hands in his lap. “No,” he said quietly. “I couldn't. After what happened at dinner, she stormed out, and she didn't even take her phone. And honestly, I don't blame her. I wouldn't wanna talk to me either.”

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You gotta talk to her, Buck,” he said firmly. “You gotta apologize and make things right. She's important to you, yeah?”

Bucky nodded, his expression one of determination now. “She is,” he affirmed. “More important than anything, anyone else. I need to fix this. I need to make things right with her. Tomorrow we are getting annulled, maybe I can get to talk to her before that.”

Steve clapped a hand on Bucky's shoulder. “You got this, man...” he said encouragingly. “Go talk to her, and make things right. And if you mess up again, I'm gonna knock some sense into you. And seriously, STOP PAYING ATTENTION TO YOUR PARENTS!”

Bucky chuckled weakly at Steve's last words. “Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice a bit steadier. “I gotta stop letting my parents get to me. But it's not easy to break a habit of a lifetime, you know?”

“I know,” Steve said with a nod. “But you gotta do it, for your own sake. And for Peach's. You want her in your life, right?”

“More than anything,” Bucky replied, his voice firm and resolute. “I can't lose her. And I'm gonna do whatever it takes to make things right with her. I have fallen in love with her, Steve. I need to tell her, how I feel.”

Steve smiled at Bucky's determination. “That's the spirit,” he said approvingly. “Go get your girl. I have faith in you. And as for your parents? I'm pretty sure you'll explode at them.”

Bucky laughed, the first genuine laugh he'd had since dinner. “Yeah, I probably will. But I don't care. I've spent way too long caring about what my parents think of me. It's time I start living for myself, on my own terms.”

Steve grinned, clapping Bucky on his back. “Good man. Now, you fix things with Peach, first thing tomorrow morning, and we'll see if I can come up with some strategy to deal with your parents. Now try to get some rest.”

Meanwhile, Peach was pacing back and forth in Wanda's living room, the anger and frustration from the evening's events still coursing through her body. She had told Wanda everything, about the drunken marriage, the dinner, Bucky's inaction, how she had left.

As she spoke, Wanda listened, her expression one of shock and concern. She knew how much Bucky meant to Peach, and she could see how hurt Peach was by the evening's events.

“And his parents!” Peach exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “I don't think I've ever met someone as judgmental and annoying as them. They act like they're so perfect, but they're just assholes. They were so rude, they just kept going on and on about how I'm not 'on their level' because I'm not rich like them or something.”

Peach stopped pacing for a moment, looking at Wanda. “But you know what?”

Wanda shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips at Peach's words. She could tell how riled up she was, and she didn't blame her. Bucky's parents did sound like a handful.

“The worst part is,” Peach continued, starting to pace again. “Despite all their criticism, I still think Bucky looks hot. I know, I know, it's crazy. But that haircut I gave him? Made him look adorable. And that stubble of his...it suits him.”

Wanda couldn't help but laugh at Peach's frustration. “Oh man, you really have it bad, don't you?” she teased lightly. “You know this whole situation is a mess, right?”

Peach looking at her with a confuse expression, “what?” Peach then started just to ramble, “I just care about him. He is different from the men I have seen in my life. He is so shy and fun when loosen up. He is a really good man, kind and I love him and I want him to be happy!”

Peach was so lost in her rant about Bucky, she didn't realize what she had just confessed. It wasn't until she said the words ‘I love him’ that she froze, the realization of what she had just said dawning on her.

Wanda, who had been listening quietly, couldn't help but burst into laughter at Peach's shocked expression. “You did not just say that!?” she managed to get out between laughs. “Oh my god, you hadn't realized, you love him?”

Peach blushed furiously, burying her head in her hands. “I can't believe I said that out loud,” she muttered into her palms. “I...I didn't even realize I...”

She trailed off, her thoughts a jumble. She hadn't even processed her feelings for Bucky yet, and now they were confirmed. She did love him. For real.

Wanda, sensing her friend's internal turmoil, sat down beside her and patted her back. “It's okay, Peach,” she said warmly. “It's okay to love him. But what are you gonna do about it?”

Peach lifted her head from her hands, her cheeks still pink. “I don't know,” she said honestly. “I mean, look at the mess we're in. We got drunk and married, his parents don't even know about us, and to top it all off, we're getting an annulment tomorrow.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow. “And you still love him?”

Peach sighed, sinking back onto the couch. “Yeah, I do,” she said quietly, a mixture of sadness and defeat in her voice. “I fell in love with the idiot, and now I don't know what to do. I don't even know if he loves me too?”

Wanda put a comforting arm around her shoulders. “But you want him to love you back, right?” she asked gently.

“Yes! But what if...”

Wanda squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Peach, you never know unless you try,” she said gently. “You have to talk to him. Tell him how you feel, and see how he responds. But you won't know if you don't communicate.”

“I left my phone at his place and I can't go back...I don't know if his parents are still there.” Peach pouted.

Wanda patted Peach's back sympathetically. “Yeah, that's a bit of a problem,” she said, a small frown on her face. “You don't want to run into his parents again, that's for sure. But you gotta get your phone back, right? You need it. You can use it as an excuse to go back or...maybe you can talk to him tomorrow, when you meet for the annulment.”

Peach considered this for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. “Yeah, you're right,” she said finally. “I do need my phone. But going back to his apartment isn't a good idea, not with his parents being there. I don't want to deal with them again. I'll go over there, in the morning to talk to him.”

Wanda nodded. “That's probably for the best,” she agreed. “You'll have time to collect your thoughts and what you want to say to him. But just remember, you need to be honest with him about how you feel. You can't keep everything bottled up, it'll drive you crazy.”

Peach nodded, a determined look in her eye. “Yeah, I know,” she said, wiping away the tears that were now dried on her face. “It's just...I'm scared. I'm scared of his response. What if he doesn't feel the same way? Then what?”

Wanda shrugged, her voice gentle yet firm. “Then you'll have to accept it, no matter how much it hurts. But at least you'll have tried. And who knows, he might surprise you. But you won't know until you talk to him, right?”

Peach nodded, taking a deep breath. “You're right,” she said, her voice a little steadier now. “I need to talk to him. I need to know how he feels, and if he doesn't feel the same, then at least I've tried, like you said. It's not going to be easy though.

Bucky couldn't sleep. The guilt about not standing up for Peach was like a weight on his chest, pressing down harder with every passing minute. He kept picturing her face, the hurt in her eyes, how she must be feeling right now.

His parents' words echoed in his head too, their disapproval of Peach, their insistence that he needed someone ‘better’. But he knew he didn't want anyone else. He only wanted Peach.

Peach tossed and turned in Wanda's guest bed, her thoughts swirling in a mixture of anger and frustration. Everywhere she looked, she saw Bucky's face. His wide grin, his bright eyes, the way his face lit up when he saw her. And that thought only led back to his parents.

She muttered curses under her breath, directing all her anger and frustration at them. How they had ruined everything. How they had come between her and Bucky.

Bucky lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkened room. His mind was racing, replaying the events of the day. The almost-kiss with Peach replayed in his mind over and over, a vivid memory that sent his heart racing.

The memory of their almost kiss filled her thoughts, adding to her frustration. They had been so close to something more, something real. But his parents had come barging in, shattering the moment and leaving her feeling shattered too.

“Those assholes!!!!” she muttered, punching her pillow in anger. Why did they have to ruin everything?”

Wanda's voice suddenly rang out from the other room, startling Peach from her thoughts. “Go to sleep, Peach!” she called out firmly.

Peach groaned in response, burying her head under the pillow. Easier said than done, she thought. How was she supposed to sleep when her mind was racing like this?

Bucky kept wondering what would have happened, if he had just gone with his instincts and kissed her. Would she have accepted it? Would things have developed differently between them?

As Peach stared at the ceiling, she couldn't help but think about what the night could have been like. Bucky and her, chatting about everything and nothing. Laughing, smiling, their bodies close together. They were supposed to talk about what came next, after the annulment. Was this just going to be a one-time thing? Were they going to continue seeing each other after this?

The questions swirled in her head, each potential answer filling her with equal parts excitement and uncertainty.

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking, how they were supposed to spent the night together, as husband and wife before the big day tomorrow.

Peach gritted her teeth, her anger flaring up again as she once again thought about Bucky's parents. “Those god-damn parents of his!” she muttered, punching her pillow again. “If they hadn't ruined everything, Bucky and I would be together right now. We'd be planning for our future.”

Wanda, shouted again from her room, “Yeah maybe he would have put a baby in you! For love of god go to sleep and murder his parents in your dream!”

Peach blushed furiously, her mind immediately going to places it shouldn't. But as the thought of Bucky putting a baby in her filled her mind, she realized Wanda had a point. Maybe things could have gone further tonight, if it weren't for his parents.

Her blush deepening, she yelled back at Wanda, “Not helping! And yes, I will murder them in my dream!”

Part 11 - Part 13

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[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

breathe

pair: Walker Scobell x reader

summary: Walker helps y/n(she/her) through an anxiety/panic attack

masterlist | navigation

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Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she clutched her script. It was just another day on the set of Percy Jackson and the Olympians, but today felt different. The voices, the people, the bright lights—it was all starting to press in on her, making it hard to think. Her chest tightened, and she felt that familiar, unwelcome sensation of panic creeping up.

“Okay, everyone, let’s get ready for the next scene!” a voice boomed from somewhere off to her left.

Y/N nodded to no one in particular, forcing her feet to move toward her designated spot. She needed to pull it together. She had to. But her breathing was shallow, and her vision blurred slightly at the edges. She could feel the walls closing in, even though they were outdoors. Her heart raced faster than ever, and the script slipped from her trembling hands.

She glanced around, hoping no one would notice the panic that was clawing at her insides. They didn’t know—no one knew about her anxiety. She wanted to keep it that way. But the noise was getting louder, and her head felt like it was spinning. She had to get out of here before she completely lost it in front of everyone.

“Y/N?” a soft voice asked, cutting through the fog in her mind.

She turned her head and saw Walker standing a few feet away, his brow furrowed with concern. She tried to muster a smile, but it came out weak and shaky.

“Hey,” she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.

Walker’s eyes flickered to her hands, which were trembling uncontrollably. Without a word, he stepped closer and gently took her arm, guiding her away from the bustling set. She didn’t resist. In fact, she was grateful. He led her around a corner, behind one of the trailers, where it was quieter. The noise of the set was just a dull hum now, barely audible.

“Breathe, Y/N,” Walker said softly, his voice calm and steady. He held her hands, rubbing his thumbs over the back of them soothingly. “Just focus on breathing, okay? In and out.”

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes and trying to match her breathing to his words. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly, the tightness in her chest began to ease. She focused on the feeling of Walker’s hands holding hers, grounding her.

“Thank you,” she whispered after a few moments, her voice steadier now.

Walker gave her a small smile, still holding her hands. “You don’t have to thank me. I saw you and just… I knew you needed a minute. Is this… does this happen often?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sometimes. I just… I get overwhelmed, and it’s like my brain can’t handle everything all at once.”

Walker nodded, his expression understanding. “It’s okay. I get it. You don’t have to explain. Just know that if you ever need to get away, I’m here. I’ll help, no questions asked.”

Y/N felt a rush of gratitude toward him. It was rare for her to find someone who understood, who didn’t ask a million questions or make her feel like a burden. “Thank you, Walker. Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

He squeezed her hands gently. “Hey, that’s what friends are for, right? We look out for each other. And besides, I kind of like being your secret getaway buddy.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound easing the last of the tension in her chest. “Well, you’re doing a great job.”

Walker grinned. “Come on. Let’s take a few more minutes, then we’ll head back. No rush.”

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | no point crying over spilled beer... pt. 2

Summary: Now we need a drabble about him having wet dreams featuring what he saw, and what he pictured under his jacket. - @thezombieprostitute

Warnings: My first-ever attempt at writing anything close to smut. It is not good.

Word Count: 924

Series Masterlist

Tags: @winterslove1917 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @thezombieprostitute | @buckys0whore

Sprawled out on his worn-out couch, he had fallen asleep still wearing his jeans and boots, too tired to get undressed after getting home. His mind had been drifting and replaying the events of the night all evening. 

The events of the bar replayed again in his mind, feeling more vivid than ever. He saw you standing there, soaked and embarrassed. Your shirt was clinging to your skin. Stepping forward, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around you, just like he had earlier in the night. It lingered longer, the details sharper this time round. 

Excusing yourself, you hurried into the bathroom just as you had previously. But now, as Bucky stood waiting, it intensified. The once bustling bar was now empty and quiet. The realization that you were wearing nothing underneath his jacket returned as you emerged from the bathroom. His heart raced, even in his sleep. The flicker of vulnerability in your eyes surged his protective instincts. 

You walked up to him, closer than you had before. The scent of leather mixed with vanilla-laced his senses. Looking up at him, your eyes were soft and full of gratitude, and you whispered, “Thank you, Bucky.”

Nodding, he felt a rush of emotions he had never let himself acknowledge before. Reaching out, he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You’re safe with me,” he reassured, not only you but himself as his voice remained steady. 

His chest tightened when you smiled, a warm genuine smile. You leaned in, resting your head against his chest, and for a moment, you stood there wrapped in each other’s presence. The world around you began to fade, leaving the two of you in a bubble of safety and comfort. 

Your hand began to trail down his arm, a shiver rushing through him. Looking up at him once more, your eyes shimmered with a mix of gratitude and something deeper. He watched as your fingers played with the zipper of his jacket, teasing it open slightly. His breath hitched as he felt the warmth of your body closer to him. 

He moved his hand to your waist, pulling you closer, and your body almost touched. A silent tension began to build between you. Your fingers continued to toy with the zipper, slowly pulling it down enough to reveal a hint of skin to him. Darkened, his eyes mixed with a desire as his grip tightened slightly. 

“I feel safe with you, Bucky,” you whispered, barely audible. 

With the bar empty, Bucky surprised you by hoisting you up onto the bar counter, a sweet giggle escaped your lips. As you sat there, looking down at him with a slight shyness, he stepped forward. His hands were placed on either side of you on the bar, your faces inches apart. The feeling of your breath on his skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded, eyes locking onto his. “Yeah, it’s okay,” you said, your voice steadier than ever.

Gripping your legs, Bucky pulled you closer, your lips almost touching: spreading your thighs slightly as he stepped between your legs. His hand returned to your waist as he leaned in. The kiss was slow and tender, filled will unspoke emotion. His other hand came up to cradle your face, deepening the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck.

The kiss intensified, your legs beginning to wrap around his waist, trying to pull him closer. He responded by pressing his body against yours as his hands began to roam gently, exploring the curve of your back. 

Pulling back slightly, Bucky’s eyes were dark with desire and a slight mix of concern. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice husky. 

Your eyes met his with an unwavering trust, and you nodded. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice had never been filled with such certainty. 

His lips found yours again, more passionately this time. His hands slid under the jacket, feeling your bare skin. You gasped softly, your nails grazing the skin on his neck as you held onto him. You became lost in each other. 

Your back arched at his touch, he trailed kisses down your neck as soft moans left your lips. Every touch, every kiss amplified the electricity between you two. 

Leaning back on the bar, you pulled Bucky with you. He effortlessly joined you on the bar, his body hovered over you. “I want this,” you whispered. 

He could feel you responding to his touch as his jacket fell open, revealing your bare skin. He couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of your body and vulnerable look beneath him. 

Murmuring your name, his hand moved up your thigh, pressing kisses to the sensitive spot below your ear. As the intimacy deepened, your bodies moved in sync. Finding the waistband of his jeans, your fingers deftly undone the button and slid the zipper down. Your hand slipped inside to grasp him as he groaned against your skin. 

Bucky’s other hand slid higher, coming up to cup your breasts and brushing his thumb over them. You moaned softly, arching into his touch. 

Your movements became urgent, the heat building an almost unbearable intensity. And, as your moans filled the empty bar, he craved more. 

As the dream began to fade, his mind tried to hold onto the feeling of closeness. His eyes fluttered open as the soft light of the morning sun filled the room. He lay there for another moment, a smile played on his lips as the dream lingered in his thoughts.

[green-eyedfirework]

“We’re in need of your services,” Slade said, and Dick stiffened.  Everyone wanted a magic user at their beck and call.  Dick knew it.  Letting him go had been—a mistake, a misstep, Dick had gotten free, the village would’ve protected him but he’d been stupid enough to come back here—“We will, of course, pay for your services.”  Slade’s eye flicked over him, and he added, “If you choose to accept.”

Oh, more games.  Delightful.  Dick drew himself up, as haughty as he could manage while trying not to tremble, “And if I don’t choose to accept?”  His grip spasmed on his knife.

Slade’s gaze was drawn to it, and Dick’s breath caught in his throat.  “If I wanted to keep you, little bird,” Slade said, low and heavy, “All your magic tricks wouldn’t stop me.”  He was right.  He was right, and he was stepping closer, and Dick wasn’t unarmed, wasn’t powerless, but Slade fought with the strength of his whole pack, and one man couldn’t stand against it.

Slade stopped right in front of him.  Dick waited for the hand on his shoulder, the blow sending him to his knees, the fingers gripping his jaw.  But Slade didn’t touch him.

“Birds don’t belong in cages,” Slade said simply.  Dick stared up at him, heart still stuck in his throat.  “If you choose not to accept, I turn around and leave.  No catch.”

Dick took a shallow breath, and stumbled back a couple of steps, not willing to be so close to Slade.  The alpha didn’t follow him, merely stared at him, silent.  Waiting.

Dick’s voice was hoarse.  “What services?”  And could he truly afford to deny Slade?

“One of my pack has been injured.  Fatal if left untreated,” Slade’s gaze was heavy, but not suffocating, “I was hoping you could help.”

Healer.  Slade wanted a healer.  Dick took a shaky breath, and tried not to sink down in relief.

“I can see what I can do,” Dick replied, steadier, because he healed anyone who asked for it, tried to help them to the best of his ability.  Slade backed off, letting him collect the borage by knotting up the cloth, and grabbing his bag as well.

Slade set off towards the northeast, and Dick followed him, careful not to get too close.  Staring at the alpha’s simple, sturdy clothing, another thought jumped into his head.  “Wait, what will you pay me in?  Coin?”  Werewolves didn’t usually do business with humans, not unless they were bartering, and Dick couldn’t imagine they carted around money.

Slade turned to tilt his face towards him.  “If you’d like,” he said casually, before dragging his gaze up and down to give Dick a very obvious once-over.  “I’m open to alternative methods of payment as well.”

Dick nearly tripped over a root, his heart stuttering a beat as his cheeks began to burn.  Slade’s smile turned more wolfish, and Dick willed his expression to stay blank.

“Coin is fine,” he said, forcing his words level.  Slade made a noncommittal sound, and Dick refused to look at Slade’s outline, the easy definition of muscles, the effortless way Slade had carried him those few weeks ago, that smirk—“Tell me about my patient,” Dick said, taking a deep breath and settling in his role, “What happened to them?”

~#~

Dick managed to walk-stumble-hobble out of the tent on his own power, though the world was just a little too bright and painful.  The cuts he’d cleaned easily, but the sickness was a curse, and breaking it took more magic than he’d liked.

He just—he needed a moment to breathe.  Probably sit down as well, but leaning against the tree was working fine for now as he sucked in deep breaths, shivering against the painful sensation of being laid bare, like his skin had been peeled off to let magic seep back into him.

It took him more blinks than it should’ve to recognize that the outline in front of him was a person, to register the eye patch, and to automatically straighten in the presence of the alpha.

Unfortunately, that was a bad idea.

The world tilted alarmingly around him, and Dick gasped as his view of Slade turned to a view of leaves and dirt, bracing himself for a painful and humiliating collision with the ground.

He didn’t hit the ground though, instead caught and pulled up, against something that ran hot.

“You sure you want payment in coin, little bird?” a low voice rumbled against his cheek, “That’s thrice you’ve fainted into my arms, anyone would start getting ideas.”

Dick groaned and tilted his head enough to bury it against Slade’s shirt.  “Fuck you,” he said, muffled.

“You’ve got the general concept down,” Slade murmured, “But you’ll be the one on your knees, little bird.”

The only worthwhile side effect of magical exhaustion was apparently he was too tired to flush.  Not too tired to imagine it though, and Dick had to ruthlessly kill that train of thought before it led into directions he was not prepared for right now.

Slade chuckled, catching the skip in his heartbeat, and the sound vibrated through Dick.  “Sleep first,” he said, and Dick sank deeper into the waiting exhaustion with the swaying of Slade’s gait.

There were sounds around him, low conversations, the rumble of Slade’s voice, and Dick just sank deeper and deeper and deeper, letting go, trusting that he was safe.

[roosterforme]

Is It Working For You? Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Just in case you need to start at the beginning or visit an earlier chapter, check out my Masterlist!

Summary: Bradley gets a glimpse of the domestic bliss he never knew he wanted. He's in it deep now, but is he the only one?

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Bradley snuggled with you for a while, playing with your hair and telling you secrets. In his best estimation, he had about twenty-five Hawaiian shirts, and some of them had belonged to his dad. You estimated that it would take you months to see them all. He told you he had always wanted a dog but had never had one, and he promised to take you to a super secret ice cream shop he knew about just off the Naval base. 

At the mention of ice cream, you heard his stomach growl. "Ready for more dessert?" you asked, crawling off of his warm, delicious body and standing up.

"Are you talking about ice cream and cookies or more sex? I mean, my answer is the same either way. Yes, I am ready."

Bradley climbed out of bed and buttoned you into his Hawaiian shirt as you giggled. It was comically large on you, but it was very soft and it smelled like him.

As he pulled on his underwear, he slowly shook his head. "I love how that looks on you, Sweetheart," he said, scooping you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed his scars as he carried you into the kitchen and set you down on the counter. The granite was freezing against your bare thighs and butt, and you wriggled around a bit. But Bradley warmed you up with some kisses.

"Here, have a cookie. You're going to need your energy for the rest of the night," you told him with a saucy wink. You took the lid off of the container of homemade cookies and held one up to him. He took a bite as he ran his fingers up and down your legs. He even looked good in the dim fluorescent light. How had you managed to get a guy who had six pack abs? Unreal. 

"Mmmm," he groaned before taking the rest of the cookie out of your hand with his teeth. He chewed it up and moaned, making your breath catch in your throat. You fed him two more and ate one yourself. 

Watching him eat made you focus on his mouth, and focusing on his mouth made you think of sex. You were needy for him, but you didn't want him to know how bad it was. You pressed your thighs tight together, and nibbled on your cookie. Then Bradley had the audacity to lick his fingertip. 

"Are you still hungry?" he asked, wiping a crumb from your lips.

You shook your head no and ran your bare toes along his legs, using your feet to pull him closer to you. He obliged with a smirk on his face.

"If there's something you want, Baby Girl, you can go ahead and ask for it. I won't tell you no."

You spread your thighs apart, exposing yourself to him as you guided him into place with your feet. You scooted to the very edge of the counter until your wet pussy was pressing against the front of the boxer briefs covering his hard dick. Bradley was licking his lips.

"I want you to fuck me again," you said in a much steadier voice than you expected, given how much your heart was racing.

"God damnit," Bradley groaned as he wrapped his hands around your thighs and met your lips with his. He used his big hands to push your legs further and further apart, then ran his index finger through your wetness and slipped it inside you. 

You cried out as his other hand slid up underneath the Hawaiian shirt and pinched your nipple. You had to grasp his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Then you slipped one hand into his boxer briefs, pulling his cock out and stroking his length. 

"I need to get another condom before we get started," Bradley whispered, his voice so raspy. He crooked his finger inside you before pulling it out of your soaking wet slit. He looked down at your pussy where you were wiggling and ready for him, perched on the very edge of the counter. He had pushed your legs so wide, it was indecent. "Don't you dare move an inch, Baby Girl. That's such a beautiful sight."

"I'm on the pill. And I'm clean," you gasped, so turned on, now you were clenching at nothing. "We don't have to use a condom if you're clean. But I mean, we still can if you want to." 

Bradley just looked at your eager face, completely dumbstruck at first. "I'm clean. I just had my standard issue, annual Navy physical."

You giggled, "Me too. But it's cool if you want to use a condom, oh my God-" Bradley was pushing his tip into your entrance with a firm grip on both of your thighs. He slid all the way in with one smooth, steady motion that had you whining and grabbing for his body. 

--------------------------------------

Heavenly. Silky. Warm. Perfect. Bradley bottomed out inside you and withdrew, over and over. His rocking motion had you rubbing your hands frantically all over the front of his body. He kissed your jaw and told you your body was made for him. It had been years since he'd done this without a condom, and you felt incredible. He was convinced you were the best. 

And the noises you were making? "Please, Bradley. Roo- Oh!" Beautiful. 

Bradley gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him as he picked up speed. He watched your gaze go hazy as he rubbed his thumb across your clit. You were already squeezing his cock, and he didn't know how he was going to last. 

"Look at me, Sweetheart. Tell me what you need."

"Harder," you gasped out, and he was more than happy to oblige. He fucked you hard and fast on your kitchen counter. His hand snaked around your lower back to support you, and he pumped into you. You were the stuff of fantasies. Sex had never felt this good before.

"Roo! Rooster!"

He grabbed one of your ankles and planted your foot on the edge of the counter, the new angle making you scream. Your face crumpled in pleasure, cheeks flushed, mouth open. Your cries echoed around the small kitchen as his body slapped yours. 

"Roo!" you called out again, and Bradley's movements became ragged, slamming into you more haphazardly as you squeezed around him. Bradley came in your sweet pussy, head thrown back, chanting fuck, fuck, fuck.  

Your foot slipped off the edge of the counter and you wrapped your legs around his waist, keeping him inside you. Bradley kissed your lips hard and then buried his face in your neck. You slung your arms loosely around his neck, just whimpering, "Roo...Brad...Roo," unable to complete either iteration of his name. Listening to you calling him Roo was making him weak.

He ran his hands through your messy hair and planted kisses all over your face, and he felt you smile as his mustache tickled your cheek. You looked up at him like he had just single handedly solved all the world's problems. He could really get used to seeing you limp and satisfied, clinging to him. You were so fucking capable all the rest of the time, he loved being the one responsible for this. 

You smiled and then moaned as he withdrew himself. Bradley kept your thighs apart and watched as his cum dripped out of you and onto the counter. "Fuck, that's gorgeous." He was completely mesmerized, stroking the side of your neck, keeping you still until you'd made a pretty little mess with your combined cum. "Let me get us cleaned up, Sweetheart. And then I'm going to make myself even more irresistible to you."

"I don't think that's possible," you whispered as he cleaned up the mess with a paper towel and gently wiped you clean as well.

"Sure it is. I'm going to clean up the kitchen and feed you cookies."

---------------------------------------

You were deeply in lust with this man, who was currently collecting all of your dirty dinner dishes and pans and loading them into the kitchen sink. Bradley was one of the most beautiful men you'd ever seen, and he was just strutting around your living space in his underwear, being large and sexy and helpful. You were still perched on the counter, just inches from where he was working.

"You want another cookie?" he asked, offering you a bite and then eating the rest of the cookie himself. He hummed along to whichever song was in his head as he alternated washing a few dishes and then peppering your face with kisses. Every once in a while he would share a cookie with you, leaning with his hand on the counter next to you, his bicep bulging. He was in your personal space. Your heart felt so full, so content. 

You checked the time on the microwave clock. It was 8:30, and you both had to work early tomorrow. What if everything ended when this night did? What if you both went to work tomorrow, and nothing felt the same with him? The weekend had been magical, but it wasn't reality. And you couldn't exactly have him kissing your neck and telling you how sweet you are all week at work. And what if he didn't even plan on anything else with you after this? He had told you he wanted you to take him seriously. But how serious did he mean? 

"Is this the recipe you made?" Bradley asked, breaking into your thoughts with that sexy voice. He was holding up a sheet of paper which you had definitely meant to put away before he had a chance to see it. 

"Oh, that's, um," you mumbled, reaching for the recipe page, but Bradley held it high, out of your reach. It was the special recipe your grandma had created for her husband decades ago. 

"It's called Marry Me Chicken?" he asked, referring to the name at the top of the page with a grin. "That's what you cooked for me?"

"Stop, just give it back," you begged, feeling your face flushing with embarrassment. "It's just the stupid name my grandma gave the recipe. I don't know why." You continued to reach for the page, but he just smirked. 

"Shouldn't it be called Marry Me Rooster instead? I feel like that would just make more sense in this scenario," he said as he handed you the paper. You stuffed it into the cabinet behind you as if it had burned your hands. 

"Oh God, now I'm embarrassed," you groaned as you turned slowly back toward Bradley. But he just looked you in the eye, all pretense of teasing gone. 

"Don't be," he rasped, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you close, running his hands up and down his Hawaiian shirt covering your back. "You have no reason to be, Sweetheart." 

But you couldn't even make eye contact with him. "Y/N, don't be embarrassed, Baby Girl. I loved that dinner."

"How about an ice cream sandwich?" you quickly asked, grasping at a new topic to bring up. You hopped down from the counter and slid down the front of his body. "Let's have some."

But he caught your wrist as you stepped out of his embrace. "Sounds good," he murmured, scooping you back up into his arms and carrying you to the freezer. Clearly he didn't want this weekend bubble to pop yet either. 

-------------------------------------------

Shit. Bradley had embarrassed you, but he hadn't meant to. The recipe was called Marry Me Chicken? That was hilarious, since he'd be lying to himself if he hadn't already subconsciously thought about having a future with you. This should have been absolutely unheard of, but there it was, a life he wanted, dangling right in front of him.

He tried to reel you back in as you and he settled on the couch with the homemade ice cream sandwiches. He pulled you down onto his lap by your waist, and with a giggle you settled back against his chest and leaned onto his shoulder. Yes, this was better, this was where you belonged.

Bradley devoured his snack in two bites and then he pulled back the shirt collar and placed soft kisses on your silky skin. He let his hand rest on your bare hip under the shirt and you relaxed against his chest even more.

"Thanks for washing all the dishes," you said, and Bradley watched you lick some of the ice cream that was about to drip out of your sandwich before taking the last bite. "It would be worth keeping you around just for that, I guess. Plus I've noticed some other perks that you have to offer."

Bradley grinned against your ear. "Other perks?"

"Mmhmm, you're pretty good with your hands. And your penis."

You were always doing that, always bringing the topic back to physically being with Bradley. He wanted more. 

"I'm not good for much, Y/N, but I would be so good to you." 

Carefully you spun around in his lap so that you were facing him, probably checking to see if he was serious. He kissed you gently, your lips still cold from the ice cream. Your hands made their way into his hair as you deepened the kiss, and started reaching for the front of his underwear. Bradley would be crushed if you didn't want to take things further with him, but he was also not capable of denying himself this physical connection with you right now. Because it was too good. 

"Do you want to take a shower with me?" you asked him softly. Suddenly it was the only thing he wanted to do. 

"Lead the way," he replied, and as soon as you had him in the bathroom, you were all over him.

You started out bent over the bathroom vanity, Bradley fucking you from behind while the shower warmed up. This slowly dissolved into him fingering you as you grabbed along the shower wall and his back to keep yourself steady. Then Bradley kissed you so softly and reminded you that you were such a good girl, the only girl for him, while he pinned your back to the tile wall and slammed into you. 

After coating your belly in cum, he made sure to gently clean you off under the hot shower spray. He took his time, playing with your tits, and focusing on your legs as well. He used handfuls of your body wash coating you both in the scent. He would smell like you at work tomorrow, and he probably wouldn't be able to focus. 

Then he watched you wash your hair before you lovingly washed his as well. He felt like he was physically melting into your touch. Had anything ever felt as good as you did? 

By the time you were bundled up in fluffy towels, lounging in bed, legs tangling together as you kissed and played with his mustache, Bradley checked the time on his phone. Nearly 10:30. Maria would be returning soon. Tomorrow was Monday. The best weekend of his life was coming to an end. And where did he stand with you? He wasn't sure, but he also was not willing to broach that conversation with you yet.

"Will you promise me something?" you asked him. "You're never allowed to shave your mustache off without my permission. How does that sound?"

Bradley laughed and tugged you against him by your towel. "Deal. My mustache belongs to you now."

Your eyes went wide with mischief. "You must really like me. I wonder what else I could get away with..."

Bradley rolled onto his back, "A lot, Baby Girl. I would let you get away with too much."

You giggled and kissed his scarred cheek. He needed this. He needed you.

Then the front door of your apartment opened quite loudly, and Bradley heard Maria's voice. "I'm back! It's me! Please acknowledge! Please confirm you're not currently doing something dirty on the kitchen counter!"

You groaned at the same time Bradley cracked up, needing to bite his fist to keep from howling. "Well you just missed that by a few hours...." Bradley said when he could finally talk again. You rolled on top of him and covered his mouth with your hands.

"We're in my room, Maria!" you yelled in response to your roommate.

"Sounds good! Have a good night! And Y/N, we will talk tomorrow."

"God, you're the worst," you said before kissing Bradley deeply.

---------------------------------------

After an argument that involved more kissing than words, you agreed to set an alarm for 6:30 for Monday morning. Bradley needed to be on base at 8:00 for an early flight simulation, and you probably had a million emails to respond to. 

But when the alarm went off and you woke up draped across Bradley's naked body, you absolutely did not want to move. Bradley woke and reached for his phone to silence the alarm. Then he took a survey of your body on his. He ran his hand up and down your back before squeezing your butt. "Morning, Sweetheart," he told you, and his voice was the raspiest you had ever heard it. The need was immediate. You rolled onto your back and pulled him with you. 

He kissed your lips, your face, your neck, everything. He kissed you like he hadn't seen you in a month. He kissed you like he needed you as badly as you needed him. Pushing back your bedding, he slid lower down your body. Kiss after kiss landed on your breasts, then your belly and your hips. 

Bradley paused and looked up at you, that cocky look you adored was plastered all over his face. "You must have known, Baby Girl. God, you must have known how much I would love this little landing strip, me being an aviator and all." He ran his thumb down your mostly waxed bikini line, and you bucked up toward his face.

"Are you going to put your mouth on me?" you asked, your voice trembling with want.

Bradley smiled up at you, his mouth just inches from where you needed him. "Do you want me to eat your pussy?"

"Yes," you hissed and he smiled the cockiest smile before pushing your legs apart and licking you all the way from your entrance up to your clit. You cried out, slapping a hand over your own mouth, wishing for a moment that you didn't have a roommate. Bradley's rough mustache hit just the right spot for you, and then your hands tangled in his hair as you thrashed against his mouth. Within a minute, he had you rocking against his face. Occasionally you could hear him mutter perfect or beautiful as he expertly licked and fucked you with his tongue.

His fingers and mouth were a lethal combination for you. You heard the whines coming out of your mouth, but you couldn't believe you were actually making such lewd sounds. Bradley sucked on your clit with just the perfect amount of pressure while he fingered you, and when you came, you saw stars. 

Bradley kissed your lips, leaving your own taste there. "And any time you want that, Sweetheart, all you need to do is ask."

Moments later, you knew Bradley was moving around you, but you didn't want to open your eyes and acknowledge that he would be getting dressed to leave. When you finally looked, he was pulling his flight suit up over his black tee and admiring the way you looked in bed. 

"I'll make you breakfast," you managed to say as you stood and wobbled on your feet. 

Bradley pulled you against him to keep you upright, and the feel of his flight suit rubbing your naked skin was sinfully hot. "You don't need to do that."

"I want to," you replied and managed to pull on some random clothing, dragging him to the kitchen with you. Bradley sat at the small table and watched you carefully as you made him an omelette. You knew your hair was a righteous mess, and you were makeup free and wearing your glasses. You also realized the sweats you tossed on were two sizes too big for you. But, oh the way he looked at you. If he wanted either of you to get to work on time, he shouldn't be looking at you like that. Like he needed you. 

You set his food down on the table along with two mugs of coffee and the bottle of hot sauce he bought for you. He pulled you onto his lap, holding you to him with his left hand while he ate. "Am I going to see much of you today, or will you be in one of the offices working?"

You shrugged. "I'm not sure how many emails I will have to respond to, but I'm sure I could make an appearance near the tarmac."

"I would like that," he said, feeding you a bite of breakfast. "So much." 

And this is how Maria found the two of you as she came to get her own breakfast ready. 

"Goooooood morning," she sang and had to press her lips together to keep from grinning too much. "Everyone have a fun time last night?"

Bradley nuzzled your neck with his nose and told her, "The absolute best, thanks for asking." 

---------------------

Ahhhh, Marry Me Rooster, AHHH! He's too precious. Thanks for reading along! There's just so much smut, because Bradley is irresistible. We've got a bit of a bumpy road ahead of us though, so hold on tight!

Read Part 11

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp @swthxrry @yaboid19 @mak-32 @miles-rooster @solacestyles @avoirlecoupdefoudre @daisyhollyxox @grxnde-dwt @callsigndiamond @harper1666 @throwinsauce @beebslebobs @awesomebooklover17 @wintercap89 @whosyourgnomie4 @rosesinmars @blog-name6996 @bcon24 @wishfulwithwine @backinwonderl4nd @babybloomer @monte-carlando @tetragonia @gingerbreadandpaper @emptyloverofmine @apparently-sunshine @chaoticassidy @missmirandafe @thedroneranger @changlingkhat @callsign-echo @sugarcoated-lame @callsign-jupiter @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @marantha @averyhotchner

[sandinthemachine]

König x Ghost x Reader Headcanons (part 2!)

Part 1

Warnings: these are copied over from my 2am phone notes so let's say nsfw to be safe and also sleep deprived brain took the wheel here, I think a lot of these are just very mushy actually but also highly unedited I'll fix that later

-

Body Things

Simon has those little dimples on his lower back I just know it

König has a beauty mark above his left hip. You love kissing it, especially before going down on him, and Simon loves brushing his thumb over it when they're spooning or he's holding König's hips.

Simon has stretch marks. They flow over the edge of his chest into his arms and shoulders. There are a few on his legs and abdomen, too, and some across his ass. When he first joined the military he found the training and workouts to be exactly the outlet he needed, and he threw himself into them hard. He grew fast, and his body remembers that. He's not one for looking in the mirror much, but once you caught him after a shower drying himself off with a towel and his fingers lingered over the stripes a second longer than they did anywhere else. Now you take a moment to kiss them whenever you can. You could be lingering in bed placing gentle pecks along them or in the shower letting your lips linger there, feeling him relax under you.

König noticed you paying extra attention to Simon's stretch marks and began running his fingers over them absentmindedly whenever he holds Simon, sometimes even brushing his hands over where he knows they are when they sit together fully clothed. Simon knows you both pay special attention to them now, and although he might not ever be able to tell either of you, he feels his heart pumping just a little lighter and steadier in his chest whenever one of you does.

When König really grins it's lopsided, one side curling up much more than the other. You love it, and you love hearing the full-on maniacal belly-laugh that usually accompanies it. Simon's dry humor gets him the most, and once he's laughing he almost always gets you all going along with him.

König has a slightly crooked nose. He's not as subtle about his insecurities as Simon is, so you'll catch him staring at his reflection sometimes in a window or a mirror, just completely out of it. You like to sit and talk to him, check in on how he's doing and remind him how much you love all the things he hates. Simon is much less verbose about it. He'll walk right up and catch König's gaze, sometimes sliding his arm between him and whatever surface he's staring at. He then likes to smooth his hand or fingers over the mark or body part in question, punctuating the unspoken statement with a lingering kiss over it. Sometimes he'll just throw König over his shoulder and carry him away from the mirror, usually getting him to laugh a bit while he does.

Simon loves König's waist and neck. He also likes your shoulders and how nicely they fit into his hands when he's pulling you onto him. He likes how when he massages them for you your head lolls back into him and your body ragdolls.

König is a thigh man through and through, worshiping them on both of you. However, he's also very fond of Simon's ass. (Who wouldn't be)

Miscellaneous

Simon doesn't really openly preen at praise like König does but he still enjoys it even if he keeps his reactions to himself

One time while König was topping Simon he reached down and intertwined their hands and it was so unexpected Simon short-circuited on the inside not knowing how to react, but König thought he did something wrong because Simon just went still, processing it. He was able to convince König he was fine but hasn't worked up the courage to ask him to do it again yet.

When König is frustrated over something he tends to pace a lot, curling himself very deeply into his own head until he is barely aware of his surroundings. If you move a piece of furniture he'll probably run into it because he's not really seeing anything around him when he's like this. Simon tends to just step in front of him so he either stops or runs into him, and then takes him to go spar or work out and get all the nervous energy out. After he's calmed down and showered a bit, Simon is happy to hold him and listen if he wants to rant, but there's no pressure to speak. Simon isn't a man who feels the need to fill silence.

When you wake up from a nightmare König is really good at talking you down from it, settling you back into bed and bringing your breathing back down. Sometimes you're too worked up though and you can't hear him, your eyes fixated on the shadows that seem to flash around the corners, coming at you like bullets and bodies that keep you jerking and writhing even when you wake up.

Simon steps in for these moments, placing himself in front of you and holding your face a bit before maneuvering you to lay back into König's arms, letting your back rest against his chest. Simon then lays down in front of you, letting the comforting weight of his head and shoulders fall onto your lap and stomach as his eyes scan the room, keeping watch for you.

When the three of you are first getting used to sleeping together König always falls asleep with his limbs too tight around you both, pulling everything in close so he subconsciously knows he won't lose it while he's asleep.

Simon, on the other hand, tends to stay awake, listening for any sounds out of the ordinary and watching over you both.

Simon learns that when König has a bad dream he tends to twitch, his hands spasming, and that if Simon runs his own palms up and down König's arms he'll often settle again.

He learns your bad dreams come in the form of soft little sounds he can soothe by holding your face and whispering to you. He tells you all his softest secrets then, how he'll make sure you and König sleep perfectly right here where nothing can ever get through him to you. Some of his words filter into your dreams, but you have no way of knowing that's where they came from. König was awake to listen one night, the night Simon whispered to you how terrified he is of how much he cares for you both before letting a heavy silence fall over the room. König held him much tighter the next morning. He would never tell Simon why.

Simon sees how openly soft you and König are to each other early on and tries to learn from that, but he sometimes wonders what you both see in him as he fumbles through learning to show affection.

When König looks at you and sees you smile he tends to give in to a lot of the smaller thoughts in his head like kissing you, tickling you, or scooping you up. Simon's instinct is to tamp those thoughts down. With König it's even harder, Simon has a lot to work through and he's trying really hard, and König is a little nervous too, not knowing what Simon likes and not wanting to scare him away or make him shut down completely. Simon picks up on that discomfort and internalizes some of it at first even if he doesn't mean to.

Simon watches you two pepper each other with kisses and slowly starts to do that. He'll kiss you on top of your head and linger, smelling your shampoo instead of immediately pulling away. He'll kiss the back of König's hand and run his thumb along the veins there, feeling him start to soften. As Simon relaxes into the relationship he likes kissing whatever skin is available to him, sometimes pulling clothing aside to reveal a sliver of skin he can kiss and touch.

When you two start doing it to him this brooding old soldier really starts to melt and let himself enjoy them. He could be sitting next to König while he reads and he'll lift his hand from where it wraps around König's thigh, hovering in front of König's mouth until he gets the hint and kisses it. Once König gave in to an intrusive thought and sucked Simon's fingers into his mouth instead, poor man inhaled so fast he nearly burst a lung and it made the funniest noise. But later when Simon had König's legs pinned to his chest as he pressed into him, Simon shoved his fingers into König's mouth and groaned as he sucked them.

With you Simon tends to randomly turn and rest his chin on the crown of your head hoping you'll settle into him and start stroking his biceps or forearms, maybe even turn and give his chest a kiss.

König will beg for stuff like that too but he's much more up front with it, usually making some sound deep in his throat to get your attention, like a little rumble of frustration if he's staring at one of you and you're not getting the so very obvious hint that he wants a kiss.

König will drape himself over your laps like a cat.

Simon will glare at him but as soon as König grins he softens so quickly, that man will give this massive gremlin whatever he wants because of that smile

You tease Simon that he spoils König too much and he's becoming a brat (*wink wink*) but he ignores you you're gonna have to deal with that one yourself

König knows you won't tolerate it like Simon will so he uses that to his advantage when he wants to be dominated. Maybe you'll even get out that tasseled whip he loves to feel dragging over his back between lashes on his ass.

Often you help prep them for each other using the smaller strap-ons you own, and then you love holding their faces and telling them how good they're doing when they take it for real.

They are both chronic starers. When you guys get back from missions you make a point of washing each other to help relax and König has the habit of just laying his cheek on the side of the tub and watching you two.

Simon thinks he's more subtle about his staring. He's not. Although his grin is more subdued and tends to be just his lips curling up at the corners a bit.

-

Have another shitty meme to characterize my current state

[letstevengrantsleep]

Part Seven

Previous part / Next part

Eddie Munson x reader slow burn

part summary: Eddie suggests a solution now that you don't feel safe in your apartment

word count: 1,254

warnings: none, but let me know if you think I do need a warning on this chapter!

a/n: we're just getting from A to B with this chapter, but i need everyone in the same place for the next chapter and to do that we need this!

main masterlist series masterlist

As the door slams shut behind Jake, Eddie stands there, heart pounding in his chest. Adrenaline is coursing through him, making his hands tremble slightly. He turns to you, facing where you're stood stock still in the middle of the room. Without thinking he steps forwards and cups your face in his hands, his touch gentle but firm, a slight shake to it.

"Are you okay?" He says, his voice a mix of concern and urgency.

You look up at him, tears beginning to roll down your face, eyes wide and filled with pain. "I-" you whisper, shaking your head, "I don't know."

Eddie takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I's okay, it's okay-". He repeats it over and over, thumbs brushing away the tears which cascade down your face. "He's gone."

But Eddie doesn't know what to do next. His mind races, trying to find the words that might calm you down, the right actions. You can't help the way you begin to remble, voice shaky and filled with fear.

"The spare key, he knew where it was, I-" you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you continue to talk. "I feel so stupid. I should have moved it, but it never crossed my mind. I didn't think he would actually use it. Why did he do that?" You look back up to Eddie, who's taken his hands from your face and is now running them through his own hair. "What if he comes back? Did he take the key with him? Oh god, did he take it?" You bring your hands up to your face and rub at your eyes. "What is he comes back? What if he-"

Your words become more frantic, your breathing quickening as the panic sets in. "I should have changed the locks. I should have done something. Why didn't i think of that? I can't stay here-"

"Okay! Okay." Eddie's heart aches at your words. He drops his hands and takes a step back. "Okay..." he repeats, trying to think clearly. "We need to get you out of here."

"I have nowhere to go, Eddie. Do I call Steve? He'll be worried sick-"

"Stay with me!"

Eddie shuts his mouth as soon as he's said it, looking at you with wide eyes that read did I really just say that?

"What?"

"You can-" He clears his throat before taking a breath. "You can stay with me until you get your locks changed."

You look at him, eyes wide with surprise. You feel entirely exposed, vulnerable. Eddie has seen more of your life in the past two weeks than you'd ever expect a new friend to see. So you hesitate, unsure if you want to burden Eddie with any more than you already have.

Eddie, of course, senses your hesitation and begins to ramble. "I mean, it's just an idea. You don't have to, really. I can help in other ways, we can go and get Steve? I just thought-"

"Eddie?" You interrupt him softly, voice steadier than you thought it would be. "It's okay. I'll stay with you. Thank you."

He blinks, taken aback. "Really? I mean, are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or anything."

You manage a small smile as you take a shaky breath. "I'm sure. It means a lot."

His face relaxes as a wave of relief washes over him. "Okay, great. Uh, I'll give you a minute to grab what you need and wait by the van, yeah?"

-

As the two of you settle into the van, the silence is thick. Eddie glances in your direction, trying to gauge your mood. Ultimately, he decides that humour is the way forwards.

"Welcome to the Munson Express," he says, clearing his throat as he turns the key a few times, trying to get the van started and smiling to himself when it chugs to life. "Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times."

A smile spreads across your face as you watch him put the van into gear, checking his mirrors and mumbling something about 'food and drink is not permitted at any time on your journey' as he keeps up his attendant act. You appreciate his effort to lighten the mood.

A few minutes pass and you feel the mood shift slightly as you turn onto a road leading out of Hawkins.

"So, uh." Eddie glances at you. "I live on Forest Hills. My trailer is right next to my Uncle Wayne’s. He’s a cool guy, works nights mostly, so it’s usually pretty quiet. And hey, if you ever need space, just say the word. I can get lost anytime. I can hang out at my uncle’s place or, you know, just disappear into the woods or something.”

You smile, feeling a bit more at ease.

His grip on the steering wheel relaxes a little as he continues, glancing over to you again. “You can take the small spare room at the back of the trailer. It’s not much, just a bed and a dresser, but it’s yours for as long as you need. It might be a bit cramped, but we’ll make it work.”

“That sounds perfect,” You reply, voice soft but genuinely sincere. You can't believe that Eddie is so ready to help you like this.

“And about the locks,” Eddie adds, “I know a guy who can change them pretty quick. We’ll get that sorted out first thing tomorrow. Until then, you’re safe with the Munsons. Scouts honour." He throes up a Scout salute which makes your heart squeeze just a little.

You look at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I really appreciate it, Eddie. Thank you.”

Eddie flashes you a reassuring smile. “Hey, what are friends for?"

As the van pulls into Forest Hills, Eddie spots his Uncle Wayne sitting on the porch of his trailer, sipping a cup of coffee. He parks the van, pulling the hand break before turning to you with a look you can't quite read.

"Ready to meet another Munson?" He jokes, a lopsided smile appearing on his face. You nod, your situation weighing down on your shoulders as you jump out of the van and step down onto the dirt path.

"Hey, Wayne!" Eddie calls out, trying to sound casual as he grabs your heavier bags out of the back of the van.

As Wayne looks up, his face breaks into a smile. "Eddie, good to see you kid. Who's your friend?"

You watch the interaction, noticing how Eddie's hand goes to rub the back of his neck, the other gesturing to you as he introduces you to Wayne.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Munson." You reply, voice steady.

Eddie takes a deep breath, ready to explain. "So, uh," he looks at you, "she's going to stay with me for a while. She's had a rough time and needs a safe place to crash until things settle."

You watch as Wayne listens, his expression softening with understanding. "Well, you're welcome here. And you're in good hands with my nephew. If you're with him, things are already looking up."

You feel at ease with Wayne, and a small smile creeps onto your face as you glance at Eddie, who's looking beet red with Wayne's praise of him.

"Thank you, Sir. That means a lot."

Wayne nods, then gives Eddie a knowing look. "You take care of her, Eddie."

Eddie nods, grateful for his uncle's unwavering support. "I will, Wayne."

Taglist

@sapphire4082 @twirls827 @bewr0210 @maskofmirrors @saramelaniemoon @halialex1119 @mugloversonly

[lonewolfwriting89]

PERDRE LE CONTRÔLE

Vincent De Gramont “Marquis” x Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Dom/Sub themes. Safe word discussion. All consensual.

A/N: Enjoy all - he’s probably a little out of character here xoxo

————

He came over to you and stood behind you, his large but somewhat delicate hand trailed over your shoulder, “Is there anything you aren't okay with chéri?”.

You thought about it as he began to wrap one of his obscenely expensive silk ties around your eyes. You grabbed his hand as he tied it, "Not yet, please?".

Your voice was much softer than the commanding work tone he usually heard from you at the Parisian Continental. A wall was crumbling and you were letting him see a part of you few outside of your inner circle had seen before.

“D’accord”, his thick accent coated you as he loosened the knot and let the tie fall down to your neck.

“Say yellow if you get uncomfortable, or if I do anything you don't want or like, we’ll pause and work out whatever's wrong”, he kissed your pulse point and up towards behind your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin, “If you think of anything you don't want me to do or aren't okay with, say red and we'll stop immediately”.

“Promise?”, you whispered.

“Je le promets”.

Vincent slid his hands along your hips as he pulled you back against his body. He kissed your neck and ran his hands up your sides. With his fingers under your shirt, his hands began sliding the fabric up your stomach. His lips brushed against your ear as he asked, "Okay?".

You nodded and his hands stopped beneath your breasts. One hand lifted to your chin and turned your face toward him, “A nod isn't good enough chéri, I need words, your words”.

“Yes-Oui…Yellow to pause, red to stop”, your voice was barely audible as you repeated his instructions to you. He seemed content, although his eyes were dark.

His hands were cool as they settled on your skin again and you shivered. A sudden fear coursed through you as you grabbed his hands. You put enough pressure on them to stop him from lifting your shirt over your breasts.

His lips closed on the side of your neck then his teeth closed down on the curve between your neck and shoulder, causing you to scratch the backs of his hands. He paused his movements.

“Are we at yellow already?”, Vincent’s voice seemed to taunt you.

You shook your head and he slid his hands under your shirt, caressing your breasts and rubbing his thumbs over your nipples. You held your breath and his palms kneaded with a firm grasp as your soft hands closed over his wrists. A panicked feeling twisted your stomach as he whispered, “Respirer”.

You hadn't even realised you were holding your breath. Letting go of his hands, you released that breath, oxygen flooding your head making you feel somewhat dizzy. Handing over control wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. You’d spent years in charge of the Paris Continental and that’d made you hard. Tough. You couldn’t be where you were if you didn’t enjoy the control. It made your heart race.

As you drew in another, somewhat steadier breath, Vincent let go of you, gathered the hem of your shirt in his hands, then pulled it up and over your head. His hands moved right back to your breasts. His lips pressed along the side of your neck and over my shoulder. Then his palms slid from your breasts, down your ribs and along your stomach, pulling your body back to his along the way.

The hardened bulge of his cock against your ass became obvious as he stepped closer to you. Your cheeks flushed and lightning flashed. The thunderous roar outside masked your soft moan as he grasped your hips to grind himself against you.

Another flash of lightning lit up the sky and your reflection in the window caught your eye. It was becoming easier to let him control things as the fear of vulnerability eased into building desire. There was something about the way he lifted his head, one eye looking at our reflection as his lips connected with your neck while his hands began to unzip your pencil skirt, that made your heart skip a beat.

His hands held your hips for a moment as he leaned down to whisper to you, “You have a hard time giving up control, don’t you chéri”.

You bit your lip before saying, “I'm starting to enjoy it”.

As his hands slid over your body, squeezing, kneading, and groping you, he continued to kiss either side of your neck. Purposely drawing out the pleasure, wanting you to crave him, beg for him. Vincent turned you around to face him and you blushed as you felt his lips on your right breast.

Your hand went behind his head and you pulled away a little.

One of his hands was on your back, between your shoulder blades, and he pulled you to him as his tongue lashed your nipple. You whimpered and felt him smile before he pulled his lips away and moved over to your other breast. You didn't pull away. Instead, you welcomed the tingling sensation his touch was awakening in you.

When his lips pulled away from that breast, they moved to the tops of them, pressing along your skin in turn as he worked his way up your clavicle and neck, along your right jaw and cheek, until he kissed the right corner of your lips. His hands moved up your spine, onto the back of your head and into your hair as his lips closed over yours and his tongue pushed its way into your mouth.

————

[noodles-icetea]

A Lifeline in Shibuya: Nanami's Reprieve?

POV: Reader's Perspective During Nanami's Critical Moment in Shibuya Setting: Shibuya Incident, Just Before Nanami's Expected Demise Title: "A Heroic Interruption: Lovely Runner meets Nanami!" (Sort of) Nanami X F!Reader - Mostly Fluff Note: So since it's Kento Nanami's Birthday today, this drabble is my Tumblr copium after the Shibuya Incident. Here's hoping for more Nanami moments (and fewer near-death experiences) in the future! You will be missed Nanami but I refuse to accept your death 😈 Hey, you know those heart-stopping moments in Jujutsu Kaisen where you're like, "Oh no, not him!" Well, imagine this: it's Shibuya, chaos everywhere, and Kento Nanami is about to make his dramatic exit. But wait! Enter Lovely Runner (sort of), aka reader, a die-hard fan who's suddenly thrust into the action! Scene: There she is, tears streaming (no, seriously, I'm bawling), watching our favorite stoic sorcerer facing down Mahito like a boss. Only, I'm not having it. "Hey, Maito!" she yell's (oops, I meant Mahito, blame the nerves). "Hands off our Nanami-senpai!" Plot Twist: Turns out, my fan obsession isn't just good for watching edits. In a twist of fate (and a dash of Tumblr magic), she's got domain expansion powers! Picture this: Mahito's all set to crush our hero, but she's like, "Not on my watch!" Cue her, busting out some unexpected domain jujutsu, throwing Mahito off balance while Yuji swoops in for the assist. Nanami's Reaction: Amidst the chaos, Nanami's giving her this look like, "Who the hell are you?" Fair question, considering she just burst onto the scene like a hyperactive squirrel. But hey, at least she bought him enough time to escape (and maybe rethink his no-fans-allowed policy). Disclaimers - No curses were harmed in the making of this Tumblr post. Just my dignity and a lot of imaginary domain expansions. Cheers to fanfic whimsy and never giving up on our favorite characters! Violence Blood/Injury Intense Emotional Situations Mention of Death Desperation/Crying

Nanami's vision blurred, the chaos of Shibuya closing in around him. Mahito's cursed hand was mere inches away when suddenly, he felt himself being yanked sideways. Through the haze, he saw her—a girl, her face streaked with tears, desperation in her eyes.

"Nanami-san! No! You can't die here!" she wailed, her voice a raw plea as she clung to him, trying to pull him away from Mahito. Her tears fell onto his bloodied suit, each drop a testament to her fear and determination.

Nanami, barely holding on, managed to whisper, "Who are you?"

"I'm just someone who believes in you," she sobbed, her grip tightening as if sheer willpower alone could keep him safe. "You can't give up now. You have to survive!"

As Mahito's smirk grew, the girl stood between them, her back to the cursed spirit. "Stay away from him!" she shouted, her voice breaking with emotion. "You won't take him from us!"

Then, in an astonishing display, she activated a domain expansion, her surroundings warping into a space filled with protective barriers and energy pulses. Mahito hesitated, taken aback by this unexpected turn of events.

Nanami, despite his injuries, was moved by her courage and the depth of her concern. He forced himself to stand with her, feeling a flicker of strength reignited by her presence. "We need to move," he said, his voice steadier.

With a determined nod, the girl raised her hand, summoning all her power to create a protective shield around them. "I'll protect you," she vowed, her tears still streaming but her resolve unbroken. "We'll get out of this together."

As Mahito lunged, she unleashed her full power, creating a barrier that forced him back. Yuji, witnessing the scene, rushed in to support them. "I'll handle Mahito!" Yuji shouted, his determination matching hers. "Get Nanami out of here!"

The girl, her strength bolstered by Yuji's arrival, focused on creating a path to safety. "Come on, Nanami-san!" she urged, half dragging, half supporting him as they moved away from the battle.

Nanami, moved by her unwavering resolve, found himself inspired to keep going. Step by agonizing step, they navigated through the chaos, the girl's protective barriers shielding them from the worst of the fray.

Yuji faced off against Mahito, buying them precious time. The girl's tears flowed freely, but her spirit remained unyielding. "You have to live, Nanami-san," she whispered as they finally reached a safer distance. "You have to."

With one final, desperate push of her power, she ensured their escape. Collapsing beside Nanami, she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "You...you'll be okay," she said, her voice trembling but filled with hope.

Nanami, gazing at this stranger who had risked everything for him, felt a profound sense of gratitude and determination. In that moment, he realized the truth: he was wrong when he had said no one would miss him when he was gone. This girl, her tears and bravery, proved otherwise. There were people who cared, people who would miss him.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. "I will. I know now... I know people will miss me."

Together, they had survived. And in that moment, amidst the chaos of Shibuya, a new resolve was born within Nanami—to fight on, not just for himself, but for those who believed in him.

Birthday Copium: So, here's to you, Nanami-senpai! In my alternate universe, you're alive, slightly confused, and hopefully starting to realize just how many people out here would miss you if you were gone. Happy birthday, you magnificent exorcist! Feel free to drop a comment if you laughed, cried, or if you just want to yell about how much you love Nanami (because, same).

Disclaimer: The characters, settings, and original storyline belong to Gege Akutami and the creators of Jujutsu Kaisen. I do not claim ownership of any original Jujutsu Kaisen characters, concepts, or plots. This work is purely fan-made and created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The specific plot, original characters, and any unique dialogue or scenes in this fan fiction are my own creations. Please do not reproduce, distribute, or re-post this work without my explicit permission. Feel free to reblog and share this post with proper credit, but please do not copy and paste the content elsewhere. This story may contain themes of unrequited love, emotional turmoil, and angst. Reader discretion is advised. This work is rated [appropriate rating based on content, e.g., "T for Teen" or "M for Mature"], and is intended for audiences of the appropriate age. Constructive feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged. However, please keep interactions respectful and kind. Any form of harassment, bullying, or inappropriate behavior will not be tolerated and may result in being blocked or reported. While I strive to provide appropriate content warnings, please be aware that certain themes or topics may still be triggering for some readers. Proceed with caution and take care of your mental well-being. This fan fiction falls under the fair use doctrine, as it is a non-commercial work created for the enjoyment of fans and the celebration of the original series. Thank you for reading and supporting fan fiction! Enjoy the story, and feel free to engage with the content responsibly.

[lovemydarkestsecrets-blog]

Tw: Transgender Sam

But it’s all good. No transphobia here ladies n gents.

"Dean?" Sam's voice cut through the quiet of the motel room, trembling with an urgency that instantly put Dean on high alert. Dean looked up from his laptop, seeing the worry etched on Sam's face.

"What's going on, Sammy?" Dean asked, his tone softer as he closed the laptop and gave his full attention to his brother.

Sam stood in the middle of the room, hands fidgeting nervously. For months, Dean had noticed the changes: Sam had stopped working out as much, seemed more reluctant to engage in their usual sparring, and had been letting his hair grow out longer than usual. But this was different. This was something more.

"Dean, there's something I need to tell you. It's really important," Sam said, his voice breaking slightly.

Dean’s heart pounded in his chest, a mix of worry and concern flooding his mind. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together."

Sam took a shaky breath, his voice trembling as he began. "Dean, for a long time, I've been feeling like... like I'm living a lie. Like I'm not being true to myself."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion and worry. "What do you mean, Sam? What's going on?"

Sam looked down, avoiding Dean’s gaze, tears brimming in his eyes. "I don't feel like 'Sam' anymore. I've been feeling... like I'm someone else. Like I'm... Samantha."

Dean stared at him, the words sinking in slowly. "Samantha?"

Sam nodded, the tears finally spilling over. "I'm a girl, Dean. I feel like I'm a girl inside. I've felt this way for as long as I can remember, but I was too scared to say anything. I want to be your sister, not your brother."

Dean’s mind reeled, trying to process what he was hearing. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to say. "But... I mean, you’ve never... how long have you felt this way?"

Sam's shoulders sagged, the weight of years of silence and fear showing in every line of his body. "Forever, it feels like. I just... I didn't know how to tell you. I was scared you'd hate me, or think I was crazy."

Dean shook his head, still trying to wrap his mind around it. "No, no, I don't hate you, Sam. I'm just... this is a lot to take in."

Sam looked up, hope and fear warring in her eyes. "Can you try to understand? Can you accept me as your sister?"

Dean took a deep breath, his thoughts racing. He looked at Sam—no, Samantha—and saw the vulnerability, the desperate need for acceptance. Slowly, he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You're my family, no matter what. If this is who you are, then I support you. I love you, and nothing can change that."

Samantha’s breath hitched, a sob escaping her lips as she finally looked up at Dean. "You... you mean it?"

Dean nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Of course I do. I just want you to be happy, to be yourself."

Samantha broke down, the years of fear and self-doubt pouring out as she cried. Dean pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as she sobbed into his shoulder. "It's okay, Samantha. I'm here. We'll get through this together."

After a while, Samantha’s tears subsided, and she pulled back slightly, wiping her eyes. "Thank you, Dean. That means more than you know."

Dean smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "So, what can I do to help? How can I support you?"

Samantha took a deep breath, her voice steadier now. "I want to dress the way I feel inside. I want to go out as myself. Will you... will you take me out, dressed how I want to be?"

Dean's smile widened, his eyes filled with pride and love. "Absolutely. Let's do it. Get dressed however you want, and we'll go out."

Samantha's face lit up with a mix of excitement and relief. She headed to her bag, pulling out clothes she'd been hiding for months: a simple, pretty dress, some makeup, and a pair of shoes that made her feel confident. She hesitated for a moment, then disappeared into the bathroom to change.

Dean waited patiently, his heart swelling with pride for his brave sister. When Samantha finally emerged from the bathroom, dressed and made up, Dean's breath caught in his throat. She looked beautiful, her true self shining through for the first time.

"Wow, you look... amazing, Samantha," Dean said, his voice filled with awe.

She smiled shyly, her cheeks flushing. "Thanks, Dean."

Dean took a deep breath, still taking in the sight of her. "Can I... can I still call you 'Sammy'? Or does that need to change?"

Samantha's smile widened, and she nodded. "You can still call me 'Sammy.' Just... spell it with an 'I' now. Sammi."

Dean grinned, the love and pride evident in his eyes. "Alright, Sammi. Shall we, m'lady?"

Sammi giggled, feeling lighter than she had in years. "We shall."

As they stepped out of the motel room and into the world, Dean kept a protective arm around his sister, ready to keep creepy guys away from her.

Dean and Sammi walked down the street, Sammi’s eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Dean guided her to a small, cozy diner they’d passed earlier, thinking it would be a good place for her to feel comfortable.

As they entered, a bell chimed, and a friendly waitress greeted them. Dean could see Sammi’s anxiety ease a bit as they were shown to a booth by the window. Sammi smoothed her dress nervously as she slid into the seat opposite Dean.

Dean smiled reassuringly at her. “You’re doing great, Sammi. You look amazing.”

Sammi blushed, her smile growing. “Thanks, Dean. This feels... really good. Scary, but good.”

They ordered milkshakes and burgers, and as they waited, Dean couldn’t help but marvel at how radiant Sammi looked. Her face lit up when she talked about her interests and dreams, things she’d kept hidden for so long. Dean felt a pang of guilt for not seeing it sooner, but more than that, he felt overwhelming pride and love for his sister.

“Tell me more about what you want to do, Sammi,” Dean said, genuinely interested, giving Sammi the opportunity to introduce the new her, the beautiful woman she had been hiding.

Sammi’s eyes brightened. “Well, I’ve been thinking about studying law. I want to help people who feel like I did, help them find justice and acceptance.”

Dean reached across the table, taking her hand. “You’d be amazing at that, Sammi. You’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know.”

Sammi squeezed his hand, her eyes glistening with emotion. “Thank you, Dean. For everything. For being here for me.”

Their food arrived, and they ate, talking and laughing like they hadn’t in a long time. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Sammi so happy, so free. It was like a weight had been lifted, and he realized how much he’d missed this side of his sibling.

After dinner, they decided to catch a movie at a nearby theater. As they walked through the dimly lit streets, Sammi’s hand slipped into Dean’s, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. They bought tickets for a comedy, thinking something lighthearted would be perfect for the night.

The theater was almost empty, and they found seats near the back. As the movie started, Dean glanced over at Sammi, seeing her relaxed and genuinely enjoying herself. It warmed his heart.

Halfway through the movie, Sammi leaned over and whispered, “You know, Dean, I think this is the best night I’ve had in forever.”

Dean smiled, his heart swelling with pride and love. “Me too, Sammi. Me too.”

Sammi’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You know, I was thinking... I’ve always wanted to do something a little rebellious.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Before he could react, Sammi leaned in and kissed him on the lips. It was soft and brief, but it sent a jolt through Dean’s entire being. He pulled back, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Sammi, I—”

She giggled, her cheeks flushed. “I’ve always wanted to kiss a cute boy in a movie theater.”

Dean’s heart raced, but he saw the happiness and playfulness in Sammi’s eyes. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, I guess I’m honored.”

Sammi leaned her head on Dean’s shoulder, a contented sigh escaping her lips. Dean wrapped his arm around her, holding her close as they watched the rest of the movie. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

As they walked back to the motel later that night, Dean couldn’t stop smiling. Sammi was glowing, her confidence and happiness shining through. He knew there would be challenges ahead, but tonight had proven that they could face anything together.

“Dean,” Sammi said, stopping and turning to face him. “Thank you for tonight. It meant the world to me.”

Dean cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing away a tear. “Anything for you, Sammi. Always.”

They stood there for a moment, the world around them fading away. In that moment, everything was perfect. Dean leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Sammi’s lips.

Dean knew that no matter what, they would face it together. And for the first time, Sammi felt truly at peace, knowing that she was loved and accepted for who she was.