#i wasn't going to sleep until this was done

[lexirosewrites]

19 year old omega Steve recently has come into his scent, essentially making it open season and he's able to be courted now

He is being pursued(hunted) by a former classmate, Tommy Hagan

Tommy is an alpha and had been waiting for Steve to come into his scent after he and Carol (Beta) broke up because she finally noticed his obsession with Steve

Tommy became a police officer and unfortunately abuses his position and uses his resources to keep an eye on Steve

It all comes to a head when Steve comes back home from work to find an unfamiliar scent in his nest and things moved around in his room, he also notices some underwear missing

He packs up his nest and some of his clothes and runs, runs to the only person he thinks can help him... Feral 26 year old alpha drug dealer Eddie Munson

Eddie lives with his beta uncle and has been since he was about 13 or so, he isn't ever bothered by the cops except for the Chief who always brought him back to his uncle with a warning but never ever charged him with possession, the old alpha seems to see something in the younger alpha that he doesn't see in himself

To say Eddie is surprised to see Hawkins most desired omega on his doorstep looking a mess is an understatement. The omega looks like he ran across town and through the woods, he was checking over his shoulder so he jumped when the door swung open

"I need help, a cop is after me"

"not my problem little one"

"please! It's Tommy Hagan, he's been after my neck and I can't go to the other officers because they might side with him!"

"surely you have a friend that can house you, I don't need the cops breathing down my neck anymore then they already are"

"they're just pups, and Robin is at college. You're my only hope, please Eddie help me. I'll clean and sleep on the couch, no! The floor... In the kitchen! I'll be out of the way and make meals and anything else. The chief is away for his wedding anniversary and I just need to impose myself until he's back"

Eddie growls low and steps aside letting the younger into his home

"and what if the town thinks I've taken advantage of you? Makes you out to be damaged goods? What if it actually happens and it's not just rumors"

"you're not as big and scary as you like to think you are" Steve says defiantly as he trembles

Eddie was surprised that Steve knew his name and called his bluff, Wayne was okay with Steve hiding out at theirs but told him there is no need for him to sleep on the floor or the couch. Steve would take Wayne's room and Wayne would take the couch

Slowly Eddie learns that Steve knew of Eddie from the pups he looks after that Eddie runs campaigns for, the two also grow closer and closer until they finally start courting for real

The pups and Wayne gave their blessings right away but Eddie took longer winning Robin over, Eddie's friends are nervous about the potential draw back of Eddie courting Steve Harrington but are supportive in the end

Tommy does eventually catch wind of where Steve has been staying and comes to take what he feels is his

However he wasn't expecting the whole trailer park and neighborhood to come in defense of Steve and Eddie and he certainly wasn't expecting to be publicly rejected by Steve and he definitely wasn't expecting to lose his job and be arrested by the chief of police old man Hopper once he learns about all the things Tommy has done

Steve and Eddie eventually mate and have pups the first of which are twins that bring the parents much joy

poor Steve!!!🥺

[kiemiu]

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝓞: 𝓝𝐞𝐰 𝓕𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 1.8k

summary -> the kids being preoccupied left you room to become friendly with the newcomer, kang cheol before his sister makes an appearance for a quick visit. warnings -> injuries (?)

( beneath the quiet masterlist )

12:33PM

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 gave you more time to spend with the kids while your mother was out running errands. You never had a full grasp on what she did on those errands, always returning with more junk than she had left with, always leaving the bulk of it all in the trunk of her car for you to carry in. Even at such a young age you could feel your bones aching and your back practically begging for a break as you carried in pile after pile of magazines. Never knowing what she did with them, or why she had so many, but also never being curious enough to ask.

A huff of exhaustion yet relief left you after plopping the last stack of magazines in front of her door, twisting and turning parts of your body to release any tension before you went back to supervising the kids. Turning your head in a slow circle until your eyes landing on the halfway open door to the art room. The top of a head picking in and out of the crack, scattered papers with markers all over the floor. It didn't take you long to realize it was Cheol. After breakfast and a short lesson, he asked to retire to his room because he wasn't feeling the best, not in need of a nurse or tea that you offered but just wanting to sleep.

You knew how hard of an adjustment it must've been for him to be dropped off in the middle of his adolescents. So many questions could be going through his head, mainly wondering why? And as you think back to his older sister you can't help but wonder what type of hardship they might've been through at such a young age.

The bleak weariness that overtook their forms showed that the past hadn't been kind to them, and even in the safety net of an orphanage they still kept their walls up high. Being self-preserved and reluctant to bond to those around, as if at any moment the world around them would start to crumble, and their efforts to build anything other than a simple acquaintanceship would be futile when it's all said and done.

Without a second thought you made your way over to him, giving the crowded play room a mere glance to make sure the kids were behaving appropriately before making your way inside the art room.

A few gentle knocks were placed on the door before you slowly made your way in, even with the intention of being subtle, you still managed to frighten him, his body jumping before he backed into the leg of a table. A junction of apologies leaving your lips as you slowly made your way towards, your hands held out as you approached as if he was an injured animal.

"I just wanted to see what you were up to." you quietly whisper, bending down far enough to pick up a piece of a paper he colored on. His once rigid form slowly relaxed, scooting himself closer and closer to you when he realized you didn't pose a threat.

The picture messily drawn showing three people in front of a house standing and holding hands with big smiles. "Who's this supposed to be?" You asked, turning the page toward him, having the smallest hint of who it might be.

"Me, my sister, and my mom." he clarified, beginning to draw on another piece of paper, his eyes never leaving the page even as he dropped a marker to pick up another one. You didn't want to press the issue, thinking of all of the possible outcomes that could've led him to end up here, instead settling for a hum of approval and a meek "You draw very well."

A small smile creeped on his face at your compliment, the rapidly moving hand that sketched across the paper halting as he slowly looked up at you. "You wan' me to draw you?" his head slightly tilting to the side, his doe eyes gleaming with something adventurous.

You reciprocated his smile, before nodding, offering to draw him as well, leaving your mother to supervise the other group of rowdy children on her lonesome, you were sure she could handle herself.

As you drew each other on the floor of the art room, you exchanged your likes and dislikes, foods you hated and adored, and your all time favorite tv shows. Small laughs being exchanged between you two, while a light weight lifted off of your shoulders to see him fully relax into the atmosphere. His posture eased and his babbling nonstop, cutting himself off between sentences to tell another story than the other one he told, which was something you also did when you got too excited.

Just as he was in the middle of telling a story, two short and rapid knocks broke through the tranquil bubble created between you two. Looking over your shoulder, your eyes slightly widening at the sight of his sister, standing placid, her face wearing the same exhausted yet impassive expression she wore last time.

Cheol gasped before lifting himself off of the floor and running towards her, his arms locking around her waist as one of her hands rested on the top of his head, messily combing her fingers through his flat locks. "We were just talking about you, noona!" he exclaimed, his toothy grin looking up at her as he rested his chin on her lower abdomen, arms still locked tightly around her waist.

A flash of confusion crossed her face, her eyebrow lifting up only for a split second before returning to her regular stony composition. "You were?" she asked, the tilt of her head similar to the way Cheol had completed the action earlier. Although different in looks you could tell they were related by the allusive mannerisms, even the way they talked occasionally reminding you of the other.

You lifted yourself off of the floor, dusting the sides and back of your pants off before slowly making your way over. "He was just telling me a story on how you taught him how to ride a bike." you clarified for him. A grin creeping on your face as you recalled him telling you she wasn't the best teacher at the time, the longest she'd been on a bike no longer than 10 seconds as she always ended up losing her balance.

Sae-byeok's gaze fell from yours to her little brothers, a ghost of a smile tugging on her lips for a split second before disappearing as her head turned over to the ruckus of the playroom next door.

You didn't mean to stare, but your eyes couldn't help but lock onto the visible scar on her neck, something you hadn't noticed the first time you saw her. Your head tilting the slightest to gaze at it. It was a faded pinkish color, a whisper of a tragedy etched into her skin for life, just barely being covered by the stray hairs falling from her pulled back low ponytail.

It felt as if you were underwater, falling into a trance of your eyes trailing the visible parts of her body to see any other unmarked scars that you had missed at first glance. Her hands barely concealed yet the scratches and traces of dried blood on the knuckles shined a brighter light on who she was. Her fingers long, slender, and littered in bruises, making you wonder what she could've done to sustain such injuries.

The way her hands consciously slipped deeper inside the sleeves of her jacket to conceal her hands didn't go unnoticed, and as if you were pulled from the suffocating waves of the ocean, you heard Sae-Byeok's voice come into view.

"Why aren't you playing with the other kids?" she asked, your eyes catching hers for a second before they diverted to Cheol who was still gripped onto her tightly. He hummed in response, not wanting to tell his sister that he was afraid.

Afraid of what the other kids would think about him, how they would treat him if he spoke too much, and if they'd see him differently if he was truly himself.

"Um, I just wanted to color." he murmured, his eyes avoiding his sisters, his hands resorting to latching onto her wrists, swinging them back and forth to keep himself occupied from having to meet her gaze, knowing that she can read him like a book.

You saw Sae-byeok tense, her face cringing at the sudden pressure around her wrists, but quickly masking it with a frown. Her mouth opened to question him but was abruptly interrupted by Cheol. "Oh, Miss Kim, Can I show noona what we were drawing together?" He suddenly asked, his head turning towards you, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

You nodded, your eyes abashedly meeting Sae-Byeok's for a split second. "Of course, and if you want you can color with your noona in the visitor area." you offered, already gathering the sheets of paper off of the floor and bending down to throw markers back into their bin.

You smiled as he quickly nodded his head up and down, quickly scattering down to the floor to help you clean the mess you made together. "Will you join us?" Cheol suddenly asked after gathering the multitude of supplies, holding the bin of coloring items with both of his hands, occasionally using his knee to keep it from slipping.

You opened your mouth to answer but was soon interrupted by the yell of your mother calling your name. A small sorrowful smile making its way onto your face, "I don't think I'll be able to..maybe some other time, yeah?" you query, holding the now neat stack of papers close to your chest.

Cheol nodded, his smile still never slipping as he made his way back over to Sae-Byeok.

You held the papers out for her to take, not wanting to pile too much onto Cheol, only then being close enough to realize the noticeable height difference, she practically towered over you, her head having to slightly tilt down if she wanted to maintain eye contact.

Her eyes stayed trained on yours, eyelids fluttering at the smallest graze of her fingertips against yours as she took the drawings away from you. A mumble of what you assume to be a 'Thanks' was heard as she turned her back towards you, her and Cheol treading down the hall to the visitors area to continue coloring together, faint murmurs of Cheol's voice being heard as he told Sae-Byeok how good of an artist you were when you were merely average at best.

As they turned the corner you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at Sae-Byeok's departing glance at you over her shoulder, her eyes flickering towards yours like a magnet before she disappeared into the halls of the orphanage. She evidently wasn't one for words, speaking her own secret language with her eyes, you just had to figure out what she meant.

Where did you come from Kang Sae-Byeok?

' 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ' 📷 : @miabcuzz @twicesuuui @kissyslut @kritkalhit @st4rcs @dumbbellxo @theforestchoseme3 @wlvlurvsfimmia @genshinenjoyer @theweirdanimation @ch-3-rry @nenukkjhj @giaqnn @crack240 @pookalicious-hq @laurenkenss @sheinhamood @pooksterrr @bbynai @diorzs @beaaluv @colorfulkittenperfection @yourl0caltrash @kidicaruslover911 @sherryuki-callmeyuki @i0nic02 @knfthxv @mina-has-been-here

[joysisland]

First post so first drabble about big mountain man König! I'm still unsure if I should write a part 2 or not Also, English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if u find some mistakes enjoy!<3

(TW: none)

Thinking about reader getting lost in the austrian alps, and it doesn't help that it's getting dark and progressively colder in the forest, you're tired and probably have walked for kilometres trying to find a way out, it probably goes in circles too.

But when you start to loose hope you finally find a way out - a house in a valley between mountains, you search for any other sign of civilization but it's just this house and what looks like a shack, or a barn. Weird.

But you're still *very* far from the nearest city, considering the only thing you see in the distance is the forest.

At this point it's pitch black outside but when you try to knock... no one answers. Definitely weird.

It's surely abandoned, and honestly you don't blame the owner, it must get lonely up there.

Shit, it's locked.

You decide it's safer to sleep in the hay of the barn instead of outside.

...

The next morning you're met with the indecipherable stare of a shepherd– a tall one at that –white as a ghost, even if his dirty clothes and toned physique show how much he works. He seems to also have a hood. Triple weird. Now that he noticed that you're awake he seems... nervous or at least awkward, as if you just caught him doing something he shouldn't do as soon as you return his gaze. After a long moment he finally speaks:

"...Uh, are you lost?"

...

In the next few hours you learn about the lonely shepherd named König, and how he lives in the mountains in total isolation except for the few times a year he goes to town (just to keep in touch with the outside world), while he prepares a meal for you to "heat up when it's so cold in these harsh mountains". Then, as you get comfortable in his house, you realize he's still using bronze pans and wooden tupperware like they used to a long time ago. After being done, he decides to sit by the fire as he tells you why he uses those still, and the sight of him as he carves a piece of wood with a knife is strangely... cozy, and warm, almost comforting.

After a bit of unintended staring you notice how he suddenly started stuttering over his words as the trembling in his hands worsened.

"Is... something wrong?" he eventually speaks up.

"No, nothing" you reply, but your gaze couldn't help but return to him naturally.

You figured it was just natural after he almost saved your life by giving you a warm place to stay. Plus, he has been very accommodating and respectful...

But you could see the glint in his eyes every time he looked at you, unhinged and almost off-putting, but you still decided to not let it bother you too much, as long as he didn't do anything weird.

In a strange way, this contributed to his mysterious and almost dangerous appeal: his forearms full of a variety of scars, all different and some faded more than others, and unfortunately for you they looked so good on his massive arms, which along with his huge physique played a large role in you stealing glances at him every time you could, even if he wasn't aware. God, he looked like he could've thrown you across the room like it was nothing.

A cough from König made you come back to reality, and as soon as you looked at him, a bit embarrassed to have even thought of something like that, he looked like he realized what you'd been thinking about. You couldn't exactly say you were discreet with your glances, so he must've figured out something.

It still threw you off, that crinkle in his eyes which suggested a smile, a smug one, so you weren't able to do anything but stare at the floor for a moment.

The rest of the night passed without any other embarrassing or remarkable moments, until:

He stretched for a moment and let out a tired groan "I'm tired, I'm going to bed"

you finally had the opportunity to ask him something that had been bothering you all night: "where am I sleeping tonight? — I don't mean we should share, but-"

"-don't worry, I don't snore" he cut you off, and without waiting for your response he headed to his room.

[petitelepus]

Hashiras x Platonic pregnant female reader (possibly single)

Where the reader, being pregnant, continues working, hunting, and doing strength training despite her pregnancy, and seems to have no problems with it, and is often upset when they tell her to rest, she is reckless and careless, she is always in constant movement or training. When she seems to be going into labor, the baby is delivered standing up easily, quickly and without pain.

At the beginning of your pregnancy, you had made your fellow Hashiras promise not to tell anyone about the life growing in your tummy.

They respected your wishes, even if reluctantly, and your continued training and hunting Demons like it was every other day. This often time worried your companions, but you brushed off their worries, claiming that you could still work and train.

That was until your stomach got big enough that you couldn't hide your pregnancy anymore.

Master Ubuyashiki wasn't exactly happy with you hiding your pregnancy for so long, but at least he didn't punish you for hiding the knowledge or your Hashira companions for keeping your secret.

But he did force you to bedrest at Butterly Mansion and it was killing you to just lie in bed all day because of how far along you were. You could barely do anything other than go to the toilet by yourself and even then you needed someone to escort you there.

"Any day now, you little brat..." You grumbled as you looked at your huge stomach, "Come out so I can get this done and over with...!"

"That is certainly one way to talk to your child," Came Shinobu's light giggle and you turned to look just in time to see her enter your room.

"Can't you do anything to start this labor?" You asked but she only shook her head, "As you said yourself, any day now."

"This is torture!" You cried out but the Insect Hashira just smiled, "Do you need to go?"

"Go, like a toilet?" You asked and she nodded, but you frowned as you attempted to get up on your own, "I'm more than capable of going to the toilet by myself...!"

"I don't doubt you, but bending down can't be easy with your stomach-!"

"My stomach is fine- Ah-!" You winched as you felt pain in your lower tummy and your eyes widened in shock as you looked at Shinobu, "D- Did I just wet myself?"

You were so humiliated that you wished a Demon would appear and eat you up, but Shinobu quickly moved closer and touched the wet spot on the bed.

"D- Don't-!"

"Congratulations!" The pretty woman smiled, "Your baby must have heard how annoyed their mother is and decided that they are ready to come out!"

"Now!?" You winched as your stomach ached in pain and Shinobu nodded as she quickly ran to the door and called Aoi and other girls to help her deliver your baby.

After that, things were blurred. You remember the pain, your cries, pushing, and finally, a shrill little scream before you blacked out due to exhaustion.

You weren't sure how long you were sleeping, and then you started to hear voices. At first, they sounded like gibberish, but as you focused and started to slowly come to your senses, you realized that those voices belonged to your fellow Hashiras.

"Aww, they look just like their mommy!" Mitsuji said happily, and Obanai nodded, "It's almost scary."

"Namu... They sound calm..." Gyomei nodded, and Sanemi scoffed, "Yeah, but if they come to their mother then we are going to have to cover our ears real soon."

"Hm!" Came Kyojuro's voice, but before he could say a word, Shinobu quickly shushed him, "Indoor voice, Rengoku."

"They are like two peas in a pod," The Flame Hashira said quietly.

"They are, like, so flashy," Tengen nodded with approval and Muichiro glanced at the Sound Hashira, "You think so...?"

"The baby looks happy..." Giyu nodded and Sanemi laughed, "Just wait until they see their mother. That gives them a reason to cry."

"Fuck you..." You grumbled tiredly as you struggled to open your eyes, but you managed. You looked at all the Hashiras surrounding your bed and frowned, "Why the Hell are you all here anyway...?"

"Hm!" Kyojuro nodded, "We heard from crows that you went to labor and we had to rush in to see the little miracle ourselves."

"The baby...?" You turned to look at the Insect Hashira.

"They are well. The delivery went perfectly," Shinobu smiled, "You must have been exhausted so we decided to let you sleep a moment."

"So... The baby is okay?"

"Would you like to see them?"

You weren't sure what the Hell you were thinking, but you nodded and she smiled as she stepped aside and returned quickly with your newborn in her arms.

"Here they are," She nodded as she gently handed the baby to you and your eyes widened as you took in your child. They were small, had the chubbiest cheeks you had ever seen, and cutest mouth ever.

"Wow..." You blinked as you looked at them and the Hashiras shared smiles, "Master Ubuyashiki said that you aren't allowed to pick up a sword for another 3 or 4 months."

"That's..." You frowned and they all expected you to complain and object...

"That's okay..." You smiled, "I'd like to get to know this little sunshine better..."

"You also have all of our support!" Mitsuri said excitedly and a little too loudly because your baby started to stir awake and whined pitifully.

"Wh- What-?" You turned to look at Shinobu pleadingly, "Wh- What should I do?"

"Just hold them," She nodded, "They are probably hungry also."

"Oh," You blinked before you realized what she meant, "Oh!"

"We will give you some privacy..." Gyomei nodded as he and the rest of the Hashiras stepped outside, but they all congratulated you on their way out.

You sighed as you did what you had to, and in manner of minutes, your little baby was happily eating and you couldn't help but to look at them so lovingly.

You didn't expect to fall in love ever again, but you were wrong.

[ladytauria]

viii. care and keeping

Courting realizations and the care and keeping of nestmates.

>> AO3 <<

"I want to hear the minute you find it, Pru."

Jason wakes to the sound of Tim's voice rumbling under his cheek. Tim sounds different again. Less Alley, more… Jason almost wants to say Bristol? But that can't be right, can it?

He can hear the click-click-click of someone typing; see the brightness of a computer screen through his closed eyelids. Jason scrunches his nose.

“And whatever you do—“ Tim cuts himself off as Jason turns more into his chest. He settles his hand on the back of Jason’s head. “I have to go. You know what needs to be done. I’ll call you back later.”

Tim snaps his laptop shut. Only then does Jason lift his head—blinking at the sunlight filtering in through the window. He opens his mouth to ask what all of that was about… only to find the words caught in his throat when he finds himself greeted by Tim’s smile—soft and warm and all for Jason.

Tim cups his cheek, swiping his thumb over Jason's bottom lip. "Good morning, omega mine.”

Jason blushes, unprepared to be faced with so much affection first thing in the morning. "Morning, alpha."

Tim tugs him forward. He kisses him slowly, languidly, like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. Like Jason is something to be savored, something Tim wants to indulge in.

To keep.

Or maybe that’s just how Jason feels. Maybe it’s not the same for Tim. Maybe Jason is just so far gone that every kiss feels like the promise of forever.

But—

How’s he to help it? Especially when Tim slides a hand up his shirt, not to fondle but just to hold. Or when he makes a soft, eager little noise against Jason’s mouth right before he deepens the kiss?

It can’t be that great, not when Jason hasn’t even brushed his teeth yet, but—

Tim kisses him like he can’t get enough, all the same.

Even when he breaks the kiss, Tim lingers, giving him half a dozen shorter kisses before he finally rests their foreheads together. The adoration in his gaze, in his scent, in their bond… Jason thinks he could sustain himself on it forever.

"Did you sleep well?" Tim murmurs.

Jason nods. His mouth opens, but… It's like Tim stole all the words right out of his mouth. He knows he was going to ask something, but—

He doesn't remember what.

His eyes drop to Tim's mouth, wet and faintly pink.

It probably wasn't that important anyway.

This time, Jason kisses Tim, and loses himself in him. They trade slow, lazy kisses and lingering touches. At some point, he ends up on top of him; Tim pushing the laptop aside to make room, his hands settling on Jason's thighs.

They don’t separate until Jason’s stomach growls, loud in the quiet. Jason barely has time to flush before Tim’s stomach does the same a moment later. They grin at each other—Tim’s is a little crooked, one side tugging higher than the other.

Jason can’t help but lean forward, planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

It makes Tim’s smile widen. He tucks a curl behind Jason’s ear, fingers lingering.

“Breakfast time, I think.”

Jason nods, reluctantly climbing off of Tim and out of the nest. He offers him a hand up, which Tim takes; raising Jason’s hand to his mouth after, to plant a kiss to the back of his knuckles.

It’s a little after noon, but Tim makes them French toast and bacon anyway while Jason perches on the counter to watch. Every time Tim brushes past him, he kisses him again. Always brief, fleeting—but they keep Jason buoyed, regardless; feeding some fizzing, fluttering thing in his chest that leaves him feeling warm and tingly.

After they eat, Tim says, “I’ve got a couple of work errands to run this morning. They shouldn’t take very long—I’ll be back before lunch. A little after, at the latest—if you get hungry, feel free to eat without me.”

“Okay,” Jason says. He won’t.

Or maybe he will, but make more than he needs, so Tim can eat it when he gets home.

Tim kisses him, slow and sweet. Jason cups his face in his hands; leaving them there as long as he can before Tim moves out of his reach. He curls up on the couch with his blanket and one of his books after Tim leaves.

>> AO3 <<

the sweetness of honey

Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Rating: Explicit Words: 62,448 Chapters: 8/?

Content Warnings: Underage, Age Gap, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Reverse Robins, Unhealthy Relationships Portrayed Positively, Explicit Sexual Content

Jason tries to sell off his first heat to make ends meet for the upcoming winter. When he’s taken by traffickers instead, he’s sure that’s the end of him—until he’s rescued by a mysterious alpha. That “rescue” comes with a price: Jason’s heat hits shortly after, and… one thing leads to another, and now Jason and Tim are bound together by a fledgling mate bond. It’s not the first time Jason’s had to make the best of things, but… he finds it a little bit easier this time, especially as he grows to genuinely like Tim. Unfortunately, just as Jason is starting to settle into mated life, Tim’s ex-pack starts getting involved, and they don’t exactly approve of Tim’s choice in mate...

My first longfic for DC! This is a highly self-indulgent Reverse Robins AOB AU. It started as a 15k one-shot, but after some encouragement, turned into... this: the slow exploration of a developing relationship.

A list of posted chapters & a summary of them is below the cut. Each chapter has content warnings in the Top Notes <3 Please mind them, and the fic tags!

I hope you guys enjoy—or keep enjoying xD—this fic as much as I do! <3

chapter list

i. a five hundred dollar lure

Jason intends to trade his first heat for enough money to survive Gotham's upcoming winter. He's picked up by traffickers instead.

ii. a gift, pretty and bruised

The leader of the trafficking group decides to give Jason as a gift to a mysterious alpha. Jason is strangely drawn to him.

iii. dousing the flame

Jason's heat comes. Tim's willpower is tested--and fails.

iv. the dawn of a new normal

Three days later, Jason's heat fog dissipates. He finds himself sporting a brand-new mate bite on his neck.

v. prescription: communication

Tim takes Jason to see Leslie, and then the two finally have a much needed talk.

vi. a little bit of spoiling

Jason and Tim have a pleasant day out... and then a less than pleasant night in.

vii. further entanglement

Jason builds a nest with Tim.

viii. care and keeping

Courting realizations and the care and keeping of nestmates.

[dyns33]

Family's bad day

And to start 2025, a bit of Alfie Solomons and his wife !

It could happen that Y/N and Alfie didn't see each other for a whole day.

The King of Candem would get up very early, kissing his still sleeping wife goodbye before going for an important meeting, leaving her the choice of what she wanted to do, between staying at home, going to see her family, taking care of the Bakery or whatever came to her mind.

Most of the time, she found a way to do all that and more. When she arrived at the Barkery and Alfie was there too, they didn't spend their time stuck together either, too busy checking that the work was done well.

That day, Y/N had arrived late in the afternoon. As soon as she had passed through the door, Ollie had told her that Mr. Solomons was no longer there. He had complained about his back, saying that he was tired, and he had gone home.

Nothing alarming. He had been running around town for weeks to extinguish his territory and get new clients, he had to pay the price at some point.

The first thing that told her there was a problem was when she walked in and Cyril wasn't waiting for her.

No, the poor dog was in the living room, lying at the foot of the chair, right next to his master. When he saw her, Cyril stared at her with hopeful eyes, because he didn't know what to do anymore to handle the situation.

For his part, Alfie didn't move from the chair. Y/N couldn't see his face because his back was to her, facing the wall, but she guessed he wasn't sleeping. When Alfie slept, he always had his head stuck to the seat, snoring lightly.

She took a deep breath.

After the war, she had seen Arthur, Thomas and John in this state, like many other men. Empty, lost eyes. Silence during the day, turning into screams during the night.

They didn't talk about it, none of them, and Alfie was no exception. He had been a captain of a unit, that was the only thing she knew. Even though there was a lot of tension between him and her family, he respected the elder Shelbys for what they had been through there. All soldiers were brothers.

Slowly, Y/N put down her bag and jacket, before calmly approaching her husband. She stood at first, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hello, Alfie. Would you like a cup of tea ?"

No answer. As if she wasn't there, he remained frozen in the chair, muscles tense, wild eyes staring at the wall where there was nothing hanging.

"Ollie told me you were tired. Don't you want to go to bed and rest a little ? Maybe that would help."

It wouldn't help, she knew. The nightmares would disturb his night, preventing him from sleeping or on the contrary drawing him into abysses even darker than the one he found himself in now.

Still calm and gentle, she sat on his legs, caressing his cheek, then his hair, before kissing him on the forehead.

"I can call Ollie. You've been working a lot lately. We could take a few days together. To the sea, perhaps ? What do you think ? The sun, the sand, the salty air, walking on the coast. You like that."

Even if he didn't answer, the decision was already made for her. They would go to the sea. They would go far from all this, to a peaceful place, so that Alfie could think about something else, or nothing.

They would go for a walk, then they would stay in the room, where she would make him forget the rest of the world, until he would only say her name like a prayer. It wouldn't be the first time, their honeymoon had been magical.

But it would only last a moment. Because the war would still be there, she could never do anything about it. A part of him had stayed in France.

Tenderly, she continued to rub his head, clinging to him.

"I love you, Alfie."

"Why ?"

The question could have annoyed her, but at that moment she was only relieved to have a reaction, that he came back to her.

Letting him see her smile, her hands not leaving his face, she moved back slightly so that they could look at each other.

Serious and tired, at least he was no longer staring at the wall.

"We've had this talk before, I think. When I thought I wasn't good enough for you."

"You're perfect." he whined, his arms moving to wrap around her waist. "Every time I wake up and see you sleeping next to me, I wonder if I'm dreaming or if I died in the trenches. Even though I don't deserve to go to heaven."

"Shh. You're home, Alfie. And you're a wonderful husband."

"Why ?" he insisted.

"Let's not lie, you've done horrible, horrible things. But you're still a good man, a man of honor. You don't hurt the weak, women, children. You take care of your own, you try to keep your commitments to your partners, when it's possible and advantageous. You're funny, sometimes, smarter than you want to show, and you make me very happy."

Alfie didn't seem completely convinced, as always, but he listened carefully to her answer, shaking his head, accepting it because Y/N never lied to him. She hid things, but she didn't lie.

He let her cuddle him a little longer, before she decided to take him by the hand and lead him to the bedroom. Like a child, he let her undress him and put him to bed, lying down next to her.

Silence returned, which could have been a good thing, but upon checking, Alfie still had his eyes open, now looking at the ceiling with great interest, even if his fingers were carelessly playing with her hair.

"Stay with me, please."

"Nothing will ever separate us, love. I will be lost, and the world with me, if you were torn from me. And if you decided to leave, struck by a surge of lucidity, then I will be alone to sink."

"I don't like seeing you like this. I don't like not being able to help you."

Again, his attention returned to her, his bright gaze piercing her soul to fill it with love, respect and insanity.

"Treacle, I would be drunk in my office or in an alley, screaming to death, hitting someone or falling asleep in my vomit, if you didn't help me."

"At least you would look a bit alive, ready to fight. Your desperate look touches me."

"Well, sorry."

"No, that's not what I meant. It's not your fault. I'm just helpless. This damn war… It took so many lives, and even after it's over it continues. It's unfair."

With his deep voice, Alfie let out a thoughtful grunt, nodding slightly. It had been several years now, and yet the feeling was still there, anchored in all the veterans.

Some had come to terms with it, but most were still fighting against these demons.

If he hadn't met Y/N, Alfie Solomons could have succumbed to it. He would have made a lot of bad decisions, without a doubt, especially concerning the Shelbys. It would have probably earned him a bullet in the head at one point or another.

For a time, he could have voluntarily sought this way out, when a doctor had detected something strange in his cough, talking about cancer. His sweet wife had held his hand, asking all the questions he didn't dare ask, demanding treatment.

He hadn't died on the front, he had finally found happiness, and a race between two trenches, passing through smoke, was going to ruin everything.

He had thought about putting a gun in his mouth to end it quickly, saving his dear wife from having to deal with him. He had also thought about annoying the Shelby brothers one last time, so that Thomas or Arthur would solve the problem.

But Y/N would have been sad. He couldn't bear the idea of ​​making her sad, even to make her life easier.

In addition to the few medicines he had obtained, Y/N had consulted her aunt and the other witches in her family, while forcing him to go for walks to the sea with her more and more often.

So, they had passed Margate. Alfie had already seen the place once, he had thought it was beautiful, that it would be good to end his days there, and now he thought about it quite often.

Especially since his miraculous recovery. The doctor couldn't believe it, refusing to admit that he could have made a misdiagnosis, like the fact that it was possible that the Romani methods could have worked.

But this episode had awakened something. Every night, Alfie was with his men, preparing the assault, ready to die on the battlefield. He felt the gas enter him, insinuating itself into his organs, until the bomb exploded near him, partially disfiguring him.

Then he woke up, and the first thing he saw was Y/N, peacefully sleeping against him. A dream vision. An impossibility, an aberration. A woman like her, with a bastard like him.

Her brothers had told him that it was absurd to marry this madman. All her family, her friends, and even Alfie's own relatives, who were intelligent enough to see that she was too good for him.

However, Tommy and the others had ended up accepting him. Almost finding him suitable even. They must have lost their minds. Especially Arthur.

"Alfie ?"

"Yes, treacle ?"

"I love you." she said again with force and conviction, placing a soft kiss near his mouth.

"I love you too, more than anything. Don't worry about lil old me. Ollie's right, I just need some rest, I'm not sleeping well at the moment."

"I'll ask Polly for some herbal tea."

Alfie would rant as he smelled the brew, cursing her aunt and saying she was going to poison or drug him. But he would eventually drink the cup Y/N handed him, knowing that it would help, plus the fact that his wife was there to watch over him, ready to defend him against the world, and against himself.

[the-universal-sun]

Hii, I've been reading a lot of you're writing andi love them so much!!! If you feel comfortable enough and only if you want to do you think you could do a sick agere? I forgot if you already done one so if you did you can just ignore this, but if not then can you do one where stan or Ford gets sick while out on the Stan O war and regress from it, thank you, again you don't have to do it or anything thank you!!!

Thank you so much! And of course I'd do it, it was they were both such lovely prompts! I hope you're still here, both of you. Sorry it took so long, and sorry it's been so long since I posted last, I've not been feeling super good myself these past few days. But! I'm feeling loads better now, maybe some rest does do one good! I hope your stomach ache feels better, those are the absolute pits, and I'm sorry you got one.

I have Ford use "stummy" here because I have a tendency to say that so I wanted him to as well. How do we feel about that word/smaller and babier words in general, yay or nay?

I hope you all stay safe out there and in this weather, drink warm and eat warm and bundle up in you need to! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

As always, I welcome any helpful comments and criticisms on my writings.

Thank you for being here!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Mmmmmmmh. Buddy!" Ford whined, curled up in Stanley's bed, one hand clutching his stomach and the other his head. He felt terrible. Worse than terrible. He felt awful. His stummy felt like it was rolling down hill, queasy and with sharp pains panging around periodically. His head felt too big, like his brain was going to burst out from all the pressure he felt. And he wanted to sleep, but he couldn't because everything hurt. He hated it. He hated being sick. It wasn't even his fault! Not really, he just got excited about seeing a Kraken that he stayed out in the rain longer than he should have. Stanley can't blame him for being curious, now can he? Not when he's the one encouraging him.

Ford sneezed, his stomach and head rocking. He should have listed to his brother. He sniffled, both from being sick and from holding back his tears. He wanted Stan, his Buddy. He also wanted Dr. Mittens, but he can't until his friend is properly suited up in scrubs and a mask, Ford didn't want Dr. Mittens to get sick like him. That's where Stan was, but he was taking too long, he looked at the clock on the side table. Five whole minutes!? They both should have been here four minutes ago. He opened his mouth to croak for Stan again before he appears right in front of him, slipping on his glasses. When did those get taken off?

"Hold your horses there, Poindexter, I'm here and I've got your little friend. Don't worry, he's all trussed up in that Doctor gear you made us get for him." Stan handed Dr. Mittens, all suited up and ready to safely cuddle Ford through his sickness, to him. He snatched him up, curling his body around his plush friend as his head pounds and pounds. He wants to cry, he thinks to himself, whining against his toy, he hates this so badly. Ford didn't realize he was crying until a tissue is wiping his face dry and Stan is helping him sit up.

"Noooo, don't wan'na get up," He whined through tears, hiccupping and trying to lay back down. Can't Stanley see he's sick?

"Shhh, I know. You want to lay down, I get it, trust me, Buddy, I do. But if you want to feel better, you have to take-take this, uh," Stan hesitated, staring at the warm tea that has a dose of dissolvable Tylenol in it. He hated even talking about medicine, but he has to, he has to take care of Ford. "This tea has some medicine in it-"

"Ugh, icky." a whine interrupted him. And yeah, Stan silently agreed, icky is right.

"No, not icky, Stanford, medicine to help your head feel better. Relieve your sinuct pressure or whatever it's called." Stanley propped Ford up against him. Ford made a face at the word medicine, he hated the taste and feeling of medicine, it made his throat feel icky and greasy, and it tasted to awful. "Listen, it's one o' those sweet berry teas, with some honey, so it should taste sweet enough for you taste buds." Well, Ford thought, honey is good for fighting on the inside germs that make people sick, and he does like fruit teas, so maybe if he can't taste the medicine, it will be fine. But, he clutches his stummy again as pain burst through it, there's one issue.

"Buddy, my stummy hurts, don' know, know if, the tea-" Ford hurt too much to form sentences, whining crying as his head and stummy feel even worse. He hated this. He hates it, he hates it, he hates it. He could feel himself cry, his face felt hot and his head hurt even worse! He just wants to sleep.

"Hey now, Buddy, I'm here, good ol' Stan's right here. Come on, shhh," Stan gathered Ford close and rocked him, one hand rubbing his stomach as he spoke lowly in his brothers ear. It seemed feeling small made Ford unable to hide how out of it and cruddy being sick made him. Stan hated it, how much pain his brother showed he was in, his tears, his sick whines. But on the other hand, Stan could finally take proper care of a sick Ford. Win some, lose some in his opinion. The ends outweigh the means blah blah blah. He was just glad his brother was more receptive and demanding when he's sick and Little, his brother never usually let him take care of him out of some guilt-ridden mentality about being the one to erase Stan's mind. Which is undeserved guilt, but they're working on it. For right now, he just wanted to keep his Little Buddy from crying and get some-ugh-medicine in his to soothe his pains. "Your stummy hurts? Probably from eating a whole bag of jelly beans before bed, right?" He didn't wait for a response, he didn't want to tease his brother too badly when he's regressed, he can't always understand teasing and jokes then. "It's okay, this tea is going to help your head and stummy, and you might even get a nap out of it!" Stan released a strained chuckle, still rubbing Ford's aching stomach, hoping it really did ease his pains. Just because he could better help his brother didn't mean he liked seeing him like this.

Ford felt the cup against his lips and opened them, slowly sipping the tea. It wasn't icky, it didn't taste the best, but if it helped him stop hurting and can make him sleep, then he'd drink. He felt Stan wipe his tears away again as he took small sips out of the plastic cup-it was his special moth cup-slowly so he didn't spill anything. Once finished, he's laid back down in bed, Stan had taken his glasses so he didn't squish them. He felt sort of better, maybe? His head didn't hurt as bad and his stummy didn't feel like it was tumbling down a hill, more like rolling down one. It was an approvement, more so when a hot cloth was put on his face right over his eyes and forehead. Ford sighed and settled further into Stan's bed as the blankets were tucked tightly around him and Dr. Mittens and his weighted one with all the constellations was tucked in over all the rest. Ford felt so comfy and cozy and warm.

"Buddy, I, mmmmmy head doesn't hurt..."Ford trailed off into mumbles. Huh, the tea must be working already, Ford felt so tired, but his stummy and head didn't hurt anymore, so he could actually get asleep now. No, to sleep, he could get to sleep. He couldn't keep his eyes open, one slowly closing, then the other. Ford mumbled more and leaned his head slightly into his brother's hand, the one that swept through his hair. When did that happen? Ford couldn't be bothered to think about that, not when he was so warm and cozy with the Best Brother and Buddy in the world beside him and taking care of him and petting his hair.

The rocking of their boat lulled Ford further into sleep, his stomach settled, his head cleared, and his brother and best friend right beside him.

[happy-lemon]

We never found the answer but we knew one thing. We all have a hunger. ~ Florence and the Machine, 2018

It wasn't until after the morning after that first terrible night that I learned Hobie was the one who found me. That he'd come to San Myshuno to visit his brother, but got a bad feeling when I didn't answer his texts. Thank the gods he had a key. I learned that my mom never left my side. Not to eat. Not to sleep. She just sat with me until I finally woke up.

I've been at my parents' house for several weeks now, trying to get clean. Grandma taught me how to knit, I've been working on my cooking skills, and I even tried meditation. My mind wanders a lot, dredging up all the stupid shit I've done, so it's not as calming as it should be. At least not yet.

I'm struggling. I say insulting things to my mom when I don't mean them. Grandma's K-dramas make me irrationally annoyed. And even though the ketamine is out of my system, the desire for it is still so strong I want to smash things.

It's time to admit that I need to go to rehab.

[wild-typo-turtle]

Home for the Holidays - Part 1 of 3

On your way home from work, you see a mysterious door. And since you're the only one who can see it, there's really only one call you can make...

A Steve Rogers x Reader fic for @stellar-solar-flare Stella's Starry Winter Sky Challenge!

Rating: T

Themes: Meet-cute, Reader has a secret, other worlds

Home for the Holidays - Part 1

The door wasn't much to look at, actually.

You stared at it, your hands clutching the cup of steaming hot chocolate that had been your indulgence as you'd closed down the bookstore. Your breath plumed out into the night, but you barely noticed how cold it was. Or how dark - it was the solstice, the darkest night of the year, and the air around you was black and frozen.

There was a door.

You knew you'd never seen it before. You crossed this park almost every day, twice a day: once on your way to work, once on your way home. You had certainly never seen a door standing there all by itself with no walls around it. 

You weren't sure that anyone else could see it. You stood there gaping at it, but no one else seemed to be. 

You pulled your phone from your pocket, pretending to be absorbed in it as you slowly approached the door.

It was an old door. The wood was weathered and splintered; it had been neglected. The handle, also wood, was a round knob, worn smooth and shiny with years and hands. It looked as though it belonged in a barn, as if opening it would take you into a feed room or a tack room.

Your phone lit up, and you really did look down at it that time.

Ben: Done with rehearsal. Doing anything?

You could just walk away. You could head home, and you could text Ben back when you got there. And his blessedly uncomplicated self could come over and you could enjoy a few hours with him before it was time to go to sleep. Maybe he'd stay the night, and you could get breakfast in the morning at the little cafe down the street that made the best cinnamon raisin bread.

But on the other hand…

There was that door.

The door where there shouldn't be a door. The door that no one could see but you.

Were you losing it? Were you hallucinating?

But then you noticed something else. Everyone walking past the door walked around it, deliberately avoiding the obstacle. On some level, they knew it was there. 

You weren't crazy.

And as you looked at it, you remembered something you'd seen on the news a few months ago. Something about a tip line for unusual occurrences in New York.

Back to your phone. And it was an easy search to find the number, and a woman's voice answered after only one ring. 

“Avengers Initiative, how may I assist you?”

“Yes, um…” You cleared your throat. “Um. Hi. There's…there's this door…”

-~-~-

They had asked you to wait until they arrived, assuring you that it wouldn’t be long. And so you found yourself an empty bench within sight of the door, huddled in your coat and sipping on your cooling hot chocolate, your breath pluming out in clouds in the clear and frosty air. For all the bustle in the park, it was quiet, a perfect winter night at the height of the cold and the dark. 

You watched the door. Nothing happened.

People kept walking around it absently. You watched their feet for something to do as you waited; they seemed to feel the door’s presence about ten feet away, their steps slowly angling around it. Far enough that the motion did not need to be sudden or jerky; it was subtle, smooth, easy not to notice. And no one did - even those few whose heads were high, looking forward and not buried in their phones - seemed unaware that they had adjusted their paths.

It was quiet, and that made it easy to hear the new footsteps. They crunched briskly through the snow, and you turned away from the door to see them coming towards you.

Eek.

You’d figured the Avengers would send some sort of preliminary team - the equivalent of a beat cop, just to check things out and make sure you weren’t lying. But no, they had sent the big guns, faces you’d only seen on television and the Internet, striding toward you and ignoring the gasps and stares that greeted them and that followed in their wake.

Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow.

Sam Wilson, the Falcon.

Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. 

And Steve Rogers himself. Captain America, at the head of the group. 

It was a good thing you’d finished the hot chocolate several minutes ago. It would have ended up splattered on the ground.

You had about thirty seconds before they reached you, and you frantically tried to gather your composure. You stood up and brushed off your coat; you threw away your empty cup in the garbage can next to your bench. You’d given the woman on the phone your name, but they wouldn’t know what you looked like, you would need to - 

Oh. They were coming straight for you.

You gulped as they came up to you. Rogers gave you a nod of greeting; he was the only one to do so. The rest of them were busy scanning the park; their postures said they were relaxed, but their faces maintained alertness, looking for any and every possible threat. 

“Ma’am,” he said politely. “Thank you for waiting for us.”

“I, uh - um, yeah, no trouble,” you fumbled. “I wasn’t…wasn’t expecting…”

“Oh, us?” He grinned, chuckling, as you flapped your hand at him and his teammates. “Well, yeah. Normally we wouldn’t come right away, but we verified your report at the Tower. It’s not anything that would have tripped up our early detection systems, but once we looked for it, you’re absolutely right. There’s definitely something going on here. So we called in the cavalry.”

You couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief at the confirmation that you hadn’t lost your mind. Rogers saw it, and his grin softened a little bit.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You did the right thing by calling us in. This is exactly why the A.I. even exists.”  

You nodded mutely, but you weren't sure if Rogers saw it. He was already turning to his teammates, Wilson and Romanov, his brow lifting in inquiry as Barnes continued surveilling the park.

“Anything?”

Romanov was holding some kind of tablet, and she was poking at the screen in unmistakable frustration. “Something, but that's about all I can tell you,” she grumbled. “It's like a fly in your house. You know it's there, but finding it's a bitch.”

Captain Rogers looked back at you, and the expression on his face was heavy. “Look, I'm sorry,” he began, and you did not like the sound of that. “I'd do it, normally. One of us would. But since you're the only one who can see it…”

“He's asking you to open the door,” Barnes said, not even turning back to look at you. “And he would do it, the stupid punk.”

Rogers let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan, a grumble, and a snarl - but you noticed that he didn’t attempt to deny what Barnes had said. Either part of it.

You looked at him, your insides trembling, and he laid a hand - a big, strong hand, and you were certainly noticing those details - on your shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said, very quietly. “If you don’t want to, we can find another way. There are people we can call.”

People, but those people hadn’t come with him, and there was probably a reason for that. They would take time to arrive, and who knew what would happen while they were getting here?

You were no hero. You worked in a bookstore, you lived alone with your cat, and the closest thing you had to a romantic relationship was a friends-with-benefits actor. You weren’t like these people. 

But maybe you could be, just for one night.

You squared your shoulders, looking up at Rogers. 

“I’ll do it.”

-~-~-

They made a plan. And after they’d done so, more agents arrived, garden-variety this time, cordoning off a circle around the door and setting up a perimeter of barriers and screens. You were still the only one who could see it - Rogers had checked with everyone as they’d arrived - but they’d given you some plastic stakes to mark where it was. Everything was terribly efficient, and it was easy to forget the chill in the air with the bustle of activity. You stood huddled in your coat, watching, until Rogers waved you over to a section of the perimeter. It was draped on three sides with tarps, creating a small tent, and someone had set up a little portable heater that was doing an excellent job of warming up the space. 

As you got there, sighing happily at the heat, you noticed that Rogers was holding what looked like a climbing harness and a coil of rope. 

“Ever worn one of these?” he asked. When you shook your head, he continued. “Nothing to it - just a safety precaution. We’ll have the rope attached to the harness and we’ll secure it here. That way if something tries to pull you into - uh, well, wherever that door goes - we can get you out of the way fast.”

You nodded, trying not to think about being pulled into wherever that door goes. Instead you let Rogers help you into the harness, easing it over your coat and helping you tighten the straps, and tying the rope to a metal ring on the back. 

And then, what seemed like a mere second later, you were standing in front of the door.

Behind you, Rogers and Barnes were holding onto the rope. The sight of the two supersoldiers didn’t exactly banish the butterflies in your stomach, but their solid forms did inspire at least a little bit of confidence. They weren’t going to let you go anywhere.

You offered Rogers a small, trembly smile, before you turned back to face the door. Romanov was right beside you, and she nodded at you. Just once - but it was, in its way, just as reassuring as the two men holding the rope. You got the impression that there was very little she couldn’t handle.

“You ready?” she said softly. 

Off to your right, Wilson was standing with his wings extended. He was the backup plan: if Rogers and Barnes lost hold of the rope, he would dive in and try to grab you before you were pulled in too far. You were no hero, and yet they were treating you as if your life was just as precious as theirs. 

Well. Perhaps that was what made a hero, a hero.

In answer to Romanov’s question, you shuffled forward two steps and placed your hand on the doorknob.

It was cold. Ice cold, and you hissed as the chill bit at your skin even through your thick mitten. Your teeth chattered, and you stumbled back a step, as Romanov caught you. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you gritted out. “Just - ‘s just cold.”     

But you were all right. And now that you were braced for it, it wasn’t as bad when you touched the knob again. You twisted it, and it moved easily in your hand, and the door fell open.

You were not sure what you’d been expecting. But it definitely had not been an older gentleman standing on the other side of the door. 

He didn’t move. 

His hair was an ashy, golden white - a color that made you certain he had been as blond as Steve Rogers in his youth. He was dressed in brilliant green, a tunic and trousers and a thick cloak, green with accents of gold and red. A thin golden circlet sat on his brow, and as you looked at him, he bent, sweeping into a deep bow that almost left him lying flat upon the ground.

It was winter beyond the door, too. A light snow was falling, and it was piled up high around the gentleman’s brown boots. 

No one spoke. No one moved. Everyone was staring at the strange man as he straightened from his bow, and looked straight at you.

“Your Royal Highness.”

TBC...

[dawnthefluffyduck]

One minute til' midnight (more design-accurate sketches below)

Yeah y'all know the drill by now, this fine specimen from this wonderful story by @patchwork-crow-writes

[daydream-the-demon]

I'm the [tumblr] person who overuses comments in tags.

[tumblr] autosaved my tags even though I used them once.

Look in the tags and have a laugh.

(Possible tag game?) @author-of-the-year @jenumarts @thonethatflies620 @iamunabletothinkofablogname @ all my mutuals

[eggmeralda]

I need a massive sudden hyperfixation shock to happen again

[nuwanders]

.

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

Getting kind of sick of people saying Mr. Beast didn't break the Geneva Convention with the sleep deprivation thing.

Because "It didn't happen during war, and the guy wasn't a prisoner".

Motherfucker mlp:fim was apparently breaking the Geneva Convention because a pony nurse had a cutie mark that looked too much like the Red Cross. Even though the Red Cross doesn't have little pink hearts around it.

Like if this:

Is close enough to the Red Cross symbol that it breaks the Geneva Convention, that the show had to change it.

Then I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the sleep deprivation that caused that guy to have a mental break down during the filming of that never posted video probably also breaks the Geneva Convention.

Also sleep deprivation is a literal form of torture, and is therefore always illegal, no matter what. Even if who you're doing to isn't a literal prisoner, of war or otherwise.

Also music and light control are also violations of the Geneva Convention. And while a noisy ice cream machine might not be music, it's certainly continuous auditory stimulation the guy couldn't control or turn off. At least not without the ice cream inside not going bad and starting to reek.

[a-b-riddle]

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

His Pumpkin

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff, dad Lando

“Lan..” You sighed exhausted opening the door of Lando’s gaming room. On your hip, you hold your little girl Isla, who cries inconsolably and keeps rubbing her tired eyes with her little hands.

“Hold on, Max” Lando says into the microphone, removing the headphones from his ears and turning his gaze from the monitor to you and Isla. “Hey, baby. What’s wrong?” He asks getting up from his chair and walking up to the two of you.

“It's long past her bedtime and she just doesn't wanna fall asleep.” You say, already too tired and too pregnant to have any strength to spend another hour putting your three-year-old to sleep. “She is so tired she can barely keep her eyes open. I don’t know what to do anymore. Can you please take her over?”

“Of course, come here” Lando takes Isla in his arms giving her a kiss on her cheek to calm her down. “Are you okay?” He asks you.

“Yeah, I’m just exhausted. I’ll finish the laundry and then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be with you when she’s asleep.”

You leave the room and Lando walks back to his gaming chair with Isla in his arms.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin? Why are you crying and not sleeping? Hm?” He asks Isla sitting down with her and removing her curly hair out of her face.

“I don’t wanna go to sleep, daddy” She sobs.

“But it’s almost 11 p.m., baby. It’s way too late. You wanna lie here on daddy’s chest until I finish something with uncle Max?”

“Okay”

Lando being Isla’s favorite place to sleep on, immediately gets her to agree with his suggestion. She nodds and takes her position laying her little head into the crook of his neck while the rest of her body clung to Lando’s chest.

“Okay, pumpkin.” He places another kiss on her cheek and starts rubbing her back with his hand while with the other he puts his headphones back on. He wasn’t actually gaming, he was doing something with Max for the new quadrant video so he wanted to get that done as soon as possible.

It took them another 45 minutes to finish what they were working on and when Lando looked down to his daughter he smiled when he saw her fast asleep with parted lips. Poor thing was so tired that as soon as her head hit Lando’s chest, she drifted off to sleep.

However, when Lando got up from the chair with her and started to carry her to her room she startled and woke up again. Realizing he was putting her down in her own bed, she just started crying again.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay” Lando cooed her as she clung onto his arm.

“With you and mommy” She cried not wanting to sleep alone in her bed.

“Pumpkin, you know you can’t sleep with us while mommy has a baby brother in her belly” He explained to her God knows how many times already.

Considering that Isla is very restless when she sleeps and keeps tossing and turning throughout the night, Lando was more worried than you that she would kick you in the stomach, so he himself made the rule that she cannot sleep with you until you give birth.

“Daddy will lie in bed with you here, okay?”

He had planned to wait until she fell asleep again and slowly creep out of her bed and get back to you, but that went out the window when Lando doze off and ended up sleeping with Isla in bed.

When you woke up in the morning and realized that Lando wasn't next to you, you immediately knew what was going on because this wasn't the first time he fell asleep with Isla while trying to put her to sleep.

You slowly and quietly opened the door to her room and put your hand over your mouth, holding back from bursting out laughing when you saw the scene in front of you.

Lando was lying on his back with his head between lots of stuffed toys, two of them even falling over his forehead while Isla was sleeping peacefully with her back turned to Lando.

“Baby” You laughed softly slowly shaking his arm.

“Hm?” He raised his head looking around through one eye completely out of it wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth.

“There’s a slight possibilty those stuffed toys might suffocate you” You chuckled quietly. “Wanna go to our bed?”

“Yeah, let’s go” He mumbled tiredly getting out of bed.

Once you got to your room he took off the clothes he fell asleep in the night before and got back into bed with you. He kissed you a few times before lowering his head to the level of your round pregnant belly and left a couple of kisses there too.

“Thank you for last night, I was really tired. I love you.” You said running your fingers through Lando’s curls same as Isla’s.

“No need to thank me, baby. Just please remind me that we don't buy any more stuffed toys for pumpkin. I'm kinda running out of space in her bed.”

“Okay, baby. I will, don’t worry.” You laughed as he nuzzled his head into your neck and closed his eyes to get some rest before pumpkin is all ready and awake to start her day again.