#i’m done fussing over this just take it

[moonlight-prose]

You asked for old man! Logan thots. I’m gonna give you old man! Logan thots. Also, hi hehehe 🤭

SO, my favorite thing about him other than the fact that he’s fucking old as dirt, is that even if he’s very rough along the edges, he’s also the tiniest bit pathetic. Sure, he’s giving, he can be soft when he wants to be especially if he’s too tired to care, but he probably just likes sitting you on top of his face and licking and sucking away at your pussy after a long day at work. Or he likes to have you on his lap so he can touch you through your underwear, maybe even grind and hump you through your clothes as he kisses you.

To me, old man! Logan is the perfect mix of pussy drunk and just enjoying pussy as it comes. No rush, no fuss, he’s just here for the vibes lmao.

note: the sound i made when reading this is beyond feral. please excuse my mind going haywire beneath the cut. i have no excuses. i just really love this old man.

Old man Logan is done with having to pretend he's incapable of feeling pain. After near a century of getting bruised and sliced open and treated like an animal, he deserves some time to just be. And with that comes the need for intimacy. He never got the luxury of it before - never wanted it.

So he's absolutely a little pathetic about getting his mouth on you; entirely at ease to suck at your clit languidly as if you're not shaking above him from too many orgasm too fucking fast. He's fucking knackered. He's pretty sure if he tried to fuck you into the mattress, his skeleton would give up.

You're clutching the headboard with tears in your eyes. Thighs strained with how many times he had you ride his mouth. You're pretty sure if you look down you'd see nothing but glazed hazel eyes and a furrowed brow.

His mind shut off an hour ago; his body taking over to do the rest. And you've become the means to an end in order for him to find some sanity to cling to. He's gone dumb with it. The taste of your pussy the only thing he really needs after a long day.

Other times he'd drag you on his thigh, mouth open and panting into yours with high choked sounds he'd never admit to making. He'd kiss you stupid. Spit and teeth and just a bit of your slick from where his fingers were knuckle deep in your mouth.

Tonight though he's got you seated right where you wants you. His cock is a leaking mess on his stomach, but he can't fucking care.

Especially when you brokenly sob above him, another wave of slick pouring into his mouth. He grunts, fingers digging into your thighs, and suffocates himself.

Far too lazy and slow for you to even notice. At least until he forces another one out of you; his mind a blank slate of white noise as you struggle to breathe.

[urdreamydoodles]

X-Men x Reader (Part.2)

Your partner having to pause and tend to you because you burnt your finger while cooking (Part.2)

X-Men characters dropping everything to care for you after you accidentally burn your finger while cooking.

Characters: Emma Frost, Mystique, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Laura Kinney, Kitty Pryde, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff

Emma Frost:

- Cooking is not exactly something Emma Frost does often. She prefers to indulge in fine dining and luxurious meals, but when she’s with you, she’s always willing to try something new. Tonight, you’ve convinced her to cook with you, and as you’re handling the pan, you accidentally burn your finger. The sharp hiss of pain escapes your lips, and before you can blink, Emma is right next to you, her ice-blue eyes narrowing in concern.

- “Darling, what have you done now?” she asks, her tone a mixture of exasperation and worry. Emma takes your hand delicately, inspecting the small burn with her usual no-nonsense demeanor. Though she may come off as cold to others, with you, her touch is gentle and caring. She doesn’t hesitate to use her telepathy to ease your pain, her powers making the sting fade almost instantly.

- “Honestly, Y/N, I leave you alone for a second, and this happens,” she says, though there’s a teasing smile on her lips. Emma is always in control, always poised, and she’s quick to remind you that you don’t have to suffer for the sake of a simple meal. “Next time, just let me order something, alright? You’re far too precious to be getting hurt over something as trivial as cooking.”

- With a wave of her hand, she mentally summons a first aid kit, expertly wrapping your burn with precision. Emma leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you close. “Now, let’s forget about this kitchen disaster, and I’ll spoil you with something better,” she suggests, her tone sultry and affectionate. She may be the Ice Queen to everyone else, but with you, Emma’s love is warm and undeniable.

Mystique (Raven Darkhölme):

- Cooking with Mystique is always an unpredictable experience. She likes to change things up—sometimes literally transforming into someone else just to mess with you. Tonight, though, you’re trying to focus on making dinner, when a sudden burn on your finger causes you to drop the spatula with a small cry of pain. Raven, who had been lounging nearby in her usual laid-back manner, immediately perks up.

- “What did you do now?” she asks, already moving to your side. Her voice is teasing, but you can see the flicker of concern in her eyes as she takes your hand. Mystique is never one to fuss over injuries, but when it comes to you, she’s surprisingly tender. Her fingers, though calloused from years of fighting, are gentle as they inspect the burn.

- “You’ve got to be more careful, Y/N,” she chides, though her lips curl into a smirk. You can never tell if Mystique is more amused by your clumsiness or genuinely concerned, but either way, she tends to you with a practiced ease. She pulls a small ice pack from the freezer and presses it against your hand, her sharp yellow eyes watching your reaction closely.

- “I swear, if you keep hurting yourself like this, I’m going to start cooking in disguise so you won’t know it’s me,” she jokes, but there’s an underlying softness in her tone. Mystique is rarely vulnerable with anyone, but with you, she lets her guard down just enough to show how much she cares. She wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into her lap. “Now, let’s see if I can’t finish this up without you burning yourself again, huh?” she murmurs against your ear, a rare moment of playfulness between the two of you.

Warren Worthington III (Angel):

- Warren always insists on helping you in the kitchen, his wings making it both a challenge and an endearing sight as he moves around. He loves spending quiet, domestic moments with you, and tonight, as you’re both cooking dinner, you accidentally brush your finger against a hot pan. The sudden sting makes you wince, and Warren’s wings twitch as he immediately senses something is wrong.

- “Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, already by your side, his feathers rustling in concern. His usually confident demeanor falters when he sees the burn on your finger, and he quickly takes your hand, his brow furrowed with worry. Warren may be an angel, but he’s fiercely protective when it comes to you, and seeing you hurt—even slightly—makes his heart race.

- “Let me take care of that,” he says, his voice soft as he guides you to the sink, running your hand under cool water. Warren’s touch is always so gentle, as if he’s afraid of hurting you, and he watches you closely to make sure you’re alright. “You should’ve let me handle that,” he adds with a small, concerned smile.

- Once your burn is taken care of, Warren wraps his arms around you, his wings folding protectively behind him as he pulls you close. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, even if it’s something small like this,” he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You can feel the warmth of his body, and the way his wings cocoon you makes you feel safe and loved. “Let me take care of dinner from here, alright? I’ll finish up while you relax.” Warren may be a powerful mutant, but with you, he’s always the doting partner, ready to swoop in at a moment’s notice.

Bobby Drake (Iceman):

- Cooking with Bobby is always a fun, chaotic affair. He loves to joke around, often using his ice powers to cool things down when the heat in the kitchen gets too intense. Tonight, you’re both having a great time, laughing and talking, when you accidentally burn your finger on the stove. Bobby freezes mid-laugh when he hears you gasp in pain.

- “Whoa, whoa, what happened?” he asks, rushing over to you with a concerned look. His playful demeanor shifts immediately as he takes your hand, inspecting the burn with wide eyes. “Y/N, you gotta be careful!” he says, though there’s a hint of teasing in his voice as he gently encases your finger in a small layer of ice to numb the pain.

- Bobby has a way of lightening any situation, and even now, as he tends to your burn, he’s cracking jokes to make you smile. “See, this is why I’m here—to keep things cool,” he quips with a grin, though his concern is still evident in the way he carefully treats your injury. “Can’t have my favorite person getting hurt on my watch.”

- Once your burn is feeling better, Bobby wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug. “Alright, I’ll take over from here,” he declares, using his powers to chill the stovetop for good measure. “How about you just sit there and look cute while I finish dinner? Deal?” He gives you a playful wink, and though he’s acting casual, you know Bobby would do anything to make sure you’re happy and taken care of. Even when things go wrong in the kitchen, Bobby is always there to bring a little bit of light—and a lot of ice—to the situation.

Kitty Pryde:

- Cooking with Kitty is always an adventure, as her ability to phase through objects means you’ve both had some close calls with kitchen tools disappearing into countertops. Tonight, you’re making a simple dinner together when you accidentally touch the hot pan. The sharp pain makes you wince, and Kitty phases through the kitchen island to get to you in an instant.

- “Y/N, are you okay?” she asks, her big brown eyes wide with concern as she grabs your hand. She’s usually so playful, but the moment she sees the small burn on your finger, she goes into full-on worried mode. Kitty can sometimes be a bit of a worrier when it comes to you, and right now, you can see it in her expression.

- “Here, let me fix that,” she says, leading you over to the sink and running cool water over your burn. She’s gentle but quick, her fingers brushing against yours as she checks to make sure you’re okay. “You know, I can phase you through the stove next time,” she jokes with a soft smile, trying to lighten the mood.

- Once the burn is treated, Kitty pulls you in for a hug, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You gotta be more careful, alright?” she says softly, her arms wrapped around you. She holds you close for a moment longer before giving you a playful nudge. “Now sit down and relax. I’ll finish up dinner. I don’t trust you near any more hot surfaces,” she teases, her tone full of love.

Wanda Maximoff:

- Wanda loves to cook with you, and her magic often makes things easier, but tonight, you insisted on doing it without her help. As you’re moving a pan, your finger brushes against the hot surface, and the sharp sting makes you flinch. Wanda, who had been setting the table, immediately rushes to your side, her eyes wide with concern.

- “Y/N, what happened?” she asks, her Sokovian accent slipping through as she takes your hand. Wanda is incredibly protective of you, and the sight of your burn makes her worry. “Let me help,” she says softly, her fingers glowing with a soft red hue as she uses her magic to ease the pain in your hand.

- Wanda’s magic flows gently through you, the warmth soothing the burn instantly. “You shouldn’t be hurting yourself over this,” she whispers, her voice full of concern as she looks into your eyes. There’s a deep tenderness in Wanda’s gaze, and you can tell she’s upset that you’ve gotten hurt, even if it’s just a small burn.

- She presses a kiss to your hand before wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a protective embrace. “Next time, let me help. I don’t want to see you in pain,” she murmurs, her voice soft but firm. Wanda holds you close for a moment longer, her magic still gently swirling around you. “Let’s finish dinner together,” she says with a small smile, her love for you evident in every word.

Pietro Maximoff:

- Cooking with Pietro is a whirlwind, literally. He’s always zipping around the kitchen, getting things done at super speed while making playful comments. Tonight, you’re trying to keep up with him, but in your haste, you accidentally burn your finger on the stove. Pietro is by your side in the blink of an eye, his usual playful grin replaced with concern.

- “Hey, what happened?” he asks, his voice fast as he gently takes your hand. Pietro may act like nothing bothers him, but when it comes to you, he’s always worried. The moment he sees the burn, he’s already rushing to grab an ice pack, returning before you can even blink.

- “You’ve got to be more careful, Y/N,” he says, though there’s a teasing edge to his voice as he holds the ice against your finger. Pietro always tries to lighten the mood, but you can see the worry in his blue eyes. “If you wanted to burn yourself, you should’ve asked me to do it. I’m faster,” he jokes, giving you a wink.

- Once the pain starts to fade, Pietro pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in a protective hug. “You’re not allowed to get hurt on my watch, alright?” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Now, sit down, and I’ll finish dinner. Super speed, remember?” he adds with a smirk before zooming back to the kitchen. You laugh, knowing that even though Pietro loves to joke around, he’ll always drop everything to make sure you’re okay.

X-23/Wolverine (Laura Kinney):

- Cooking with Laura is usually a quiet affair. She’s not one to talk much while she focuses, but she enjoys spending this time with you. Tonight, as you’re working together, you accidentally touch a hot pan, and the sharp pain causes you to yelp. Laura’s eyes snap to you in an instant, her protective instincts kicking in immediately.

- “Let me see,” she says, her voice calm but firm as she gently takes your hand in hers. Laura may be tough and guarded, but when it comes to you, she’s surprisingly tender. She inspects the burn with narrowed eyes, her brow furrowed in concern as she runs your finger under cold water.

- “You need to be more careful,” she mutters, though her tone isn’t angry—it’s worried. Laura has always been protective of you, and the thought of you getting hurt, even in a small way, makes her anxious. She grabs a bandage from the cabinet, carefully wrapping your finger with gentle precision, her touch soft despite her rough exterior.

- Once your burn is taken care of, Laura pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you in a rare display of affection. “I don’t like seeing you hurt,” she admits quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She holds you for a moment longer before giving you a small smile. “Let me finish dinner. You’ve done enough for today,” she says, her tone soft but insistent. You know Laura isn’t one for words, but her actions speak volumes about how much she cares for you.

[echojedis]

Post-mission routine 

[kbwrites]

Husband! Nanami

synopsis: your husband comes home for another long and arduous day. He only wishes to stay with you forever.

⚝tags: husband!nanami, reader is a housewife, nsfw, nanami loves eating his wife out

⚝wc: 1.6k

Husband Nanami! Drags his feet, trudging wearily to the entrance of his shared home. Each step heavier than the last. Work has been increasingly stressful, each day more demanding than the last. Today was no different. He brings a tired hand up to the doorknob, turning it slowly. The soft yellow light of the foyer illuminates his face, the scent of his safe space hitting his nostrils.

“Kento?” There it was, the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. Rounding the corner it was you, his loving wife. In that moment it seems as though all the stress from the day melts away, a small smile graces his lips and his tired eyes close briefly.

“Hello dear.”

Kento wasn’t exactly sure when he fell in love with you, just that at some point he stopped being able to imagine what life would be like without your presence. You became his peace, a ray of sunshine that cut through the darkness in his life. He never believed in karma or fate, but sometimes he’d wonder what he had done in his life to be deserving of your love.

He slips out of his shoes, heavy footsteps and drooping shoulders trudge toward you. He wrapped his strong arms around you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Kento bends down slightly, burying his head into your hair allowing your scent to permeate his senses. You always smelled so good… A low hum of content emanates from his throat, almost like a cat purring. His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly close.

“How was your day?” He mumbles into your skin.

“My day was good.” You reply quietly. “What about you?”

“Long. Tiring..” He says with a sigh, pulling away slightly so he can have a better look at his sunshine. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb making small circles on your cheek. You look at your husband, honey-colored eyes half-lidded, dark circles occupying his face. It was taking everything in him to stand right now.

“Are you hungry?” You muse, nuzzling your face into his hand. He only nods, still looking at you with tired eyes. Taking the hand that held your face you lead him to the dining room. The smell of food wafts through the room, a plate of steak and mashed potatoes, still hot. He takes a seat at the table, eyes lighting up at the dish.

“Thank you, my love.” He says before taking a bite, his eyes closing in satisfaction as the savory taste hits his tongue. He loved your cooking, it was like a balm to his weary soul. He continues eating in silence, looking up at you. You rest your chin in your hands, smiling at your husband.

“You’re not eating?” He says after swallowing.

“I ate before you came home.” A pang of guilt washes over him, Kento knows you probably waited as long as you could hoping you could hold out and wait to eat with him. With all the long hours he’s been putting in, he's barely had time for the one thing that made his life worth living

“I’m sorry…” He reaches for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. You just smile, how did he end up with an angel?

He finishes eating his food, you get up grabbing the empty plate. Kento gently grabs hold of your wrist.

“Please, you cooked let me-”

“You can barely stand Ken.” You’re right, he’s come to find out that you usually are. He sinks back in the chair, too exhausted to protest. After loading the dishwasher you come back into the dining room, your husband exactly where you left him. Fighting off sleep in the chair.

You take his large hand in your smaller one, leading him to the bathroom. Although, Nanami is a serious man, one who was insistent on retiring you when you got married. He secretly loved when you took care of him, your gentle hands working his sore muscles combined with the hot water cascading down his body; he thinks in this moment he could fall asleep standing up.

He looks down at his wife fussing over him, your naked form, suds of soap covering your glistening skin. Even running on 3 hours of sleep the desire in him for his lover burns. His hands roam over your curves, gripping your hips. You pause your movements looking up at him as he pulls you closer, pads of his fingers digging lightly into the fat of your hips. How long had it been since he touched his wife? Made her writhe under him? Far too long in his opinion.

You finish the shower, leading his towel-clad body to your bedroom, drying him off you grab his night clothes from the top drawer. Suddenly bashful at all the attention you’ve been giving him Kento grabs your arm as you try to slip on his pajama pants. You look up at him inquisitively.

“Kento?” He doesn’t answer, just pulls you onto his lap. His large hands holding you in place.

“Darling..” His voice hoarse. Your body shivers in response, even after a year of marriage the sight before you— his chiseled abs, damp blond hair framing his sharp features, his lips parted and pupils blown… It was still too much. You feel the arousal pool between your legs.

“K-kento, you’re tired...” You try to be the voice of reason, but the love of your life looks so damn good right now. He places soft kisses on your chest, setting fire to your skin.

“You’ve been so good to me, allow me this.” He says before trailing kisses up and down your neck. His hands leave your waist, his touch slow and deliberate. His lips ghost over you, landing next to your ear.

“It’s been terrible my love… working all day when I’d rather be here… having you.” His breath against your ear.

“Ken!” You say embarrassed, he was always so blunt when you were having sex. “Just don’t go overboard…” You chide in between moans, your hands find his damp hair, raking through it gently. 

He uses the bit of strength he has left to lay you down on the bed, your back hitting the plush comforter. His hand trailing between your legs, he groans as he feels the wetness between your folds. Your back arches as he brings his digits up to your clit, making slow deliberate circles.

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with lust.

“Honey, I need you.” Is all he says before he buries his face into your cunt.

His tongue darting out to lap up all of your slick. Your darling husband sucking gently on your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. Your moans and whimpers only serve to encourage him. His long finger slides in, curling it upwards to your sweet spot.

“Kento~ s’good” You breathe, one hand snakes up to your stomach, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. His way of saying he heard you. His eyes flutter shut, completely enraptured in pleasing his precious wife. All the paperwork, unnecessarily long meeting with his boss, the entire shit storm of the day all seems to float away as he rests between your thighs.

“So good f’me my love.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand he had on your stomach reaches below to his growing erection. He wraps his hand around his thick length, rutting into his tight fist. He moans against your cunt, imagining his fist were your heavenly walls.

He knows you so well, just by the slight change in your voice he can tell he’s bringing you closer to the edge. His pace quickens, inserting another thick finger into your cunt, your walls flutter around him. Hot squelching noises emanate from your core. He released your clit with a ‘pop’ using the wet muscle to circle around the bundle of nerves. He wants so badly for you to cum, his own pleasure completely reliant on it. Your breath hitches, body spasms as you finally release. Your arousal coating his fingers, he removes them from you replacing them with his mouth. 

He greedily slurps up all the slick from your entrance, humming as your sweet essence coats his taste buds. 

“Kentooo” You whine, slightly overstimulated. You squirm trying to push your lover's head away from your throbbing cunt, he only grunts, strong arms holding your legs in place. Only after he’s had his fill he crawls up to you, resting your head on his broad chest. 

Your husband places kisses on your forehead, stroking your slightly damp hair. He takes deep breaths, helping to pace your own breathing. He looks down at his world, even your blissed out state was irresistible to him. 

“Was that too much for you my love?” He questions softly. You shake your head, a tired smile graces his lips.

“I’ve been neglecting you honey… I’m sorry.” He says apologetically, tracing patterns on your skin. You look up at him, the guilt evident on his face. 

He worked so hard so that you wouldn’t have to, his darling wife shouldn’t have to lift a finger. However he couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting up for him, missing him. The light of his life, so lonely in the big house he bought for her.

“It’s alright Ken.” You offer a gentle smile, of course, you missed your husband, but you didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was. 

“No. It isn’t.” He said firmly. “I’ll request more days off, I need rest. And I need you.” He holds you tight as if you’d disappear at any moment. His mind was set, you swoon at your husbands' words.

“Good.” You say smiling, he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He rolls over to his back, the exhaustion hitting him again. You throw the cover onto both of your bodies. Sleeping taking over him quickly. You place a kiss to your husband's cheek before closing your eyes.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬✧ ▬▭▬✧✧✧

[banj0possum]

Bloody Red Roses

Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader

CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now

👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.

👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.

👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.

👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!

👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!

👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.

👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.

👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”

👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess

👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.

👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear

👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.

👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.

👑 “…”

👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”

👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”

👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.

👑 “Hm…”

👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.

👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?

👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.

👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.

👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.

👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.

👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”

👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.

👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..

👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.

👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..

👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)

👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.

👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..

👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”

👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.

👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless

👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”

👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..

👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”

👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…

👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him

👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys

👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”

👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.

👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!

👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”

👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.

👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!

👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.

👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.

👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”

👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch

👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!

👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!

👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”

It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq

[batterygarden]

nagi seishiro calls you mommy (fem & afab! reader)

18 + explicit, established relationship, breeding kink snuck in there, 1.8 k words

It starts off with you hating it.. he earns a scoff and a dry “I’m not your mother, seishiro nagi!” 

It’s a joke then. It turns light-hearted and mischievous, a tool for teasing since you really do fuss over Nagi in a way that feels…y’know…motherly. He won’t mention it if you aren’t in the right mood. The doting. The acts of service. The ooey-gooey love you weave into every one of your touches…

Truly, at first, it‘s only teasing. You’ve got a tolerance built for that already—your skin’s grown thick with Sei’s dubious filter and deadpan joke delivery. So when he senses you can handle it, the nickname gets repeated. 

A lazy “thanks mommy” falling from his lips when you hand him the phone charger he’d done an awful job searching for, swiping hair out of his face absentmindedly before you register his words. You pull your hand away fast when you do, groaning but giggling all the same. The following occurrence only earns a chuckle and a light shake of your head. The next time only a funny look. 

You must dwell on the new title more than you let on though, because inbetween Nagi’s chest and his comforter one night, you bring it up. 

Squeezing yourself as flush to his bare skin as possible, finger tracing his collarbone while your question comes in whisper: 

“So…why do you keep calling me mommy?” 

Seishiro’s half-asleep, so his answer comes out soft and heavy. “S’just how you act. And it’s pretty hot.” 

You scoff, rolling onto your back in a fit of defiance. You don’t think you act motherly.  Nagi’s quick to roll on top of you when you move, sticking to your chest like a magnet, clinging to your front and using your tits as a pillow—this position suits him just fine. 

Once he’s nuzzled in for maximum comfort he yawns. “Are you mad at me?” He lifts an eyelid to peek at your face. “Didn’t think it bothered you that much.” 

With a sigh your arms are around him, nails gently grazing his naked back the way you know he likes. 

“No, I'm not mad. Just feels weird. No one’s ever called me that before and when you do it I can never tell if you’re making fun of me.” 

He inhales a deep breath against your skin before he responds, lips dragging against your breast. 

“Not making fun. I really do think ‘t’s hot.” 

There’s a yawn and then a sleepy, open mouthed kiss on the soft skin above your nipple. 

“really?” 

“y’have no idea” 

There’s a few more drowsy kisses to your chest then, before your nipple’s latched into Nagi’s greedy mouth, the other circled gently with his thumb. You whine, running fingers through his hair and tugging at his roots. 

There’s a soft pop when he pulls away. 

“do you?” 

He squeezes your tits lazily in each palm while he asks, playing like they’re stress balls—such a regular occurrence it’s humorless by this point. 

“Do I what?”

“Think it’s hot? Mommy?” 

Your answer is a jagged sigh when he starts kissing his way around your other breast, glancing up to meet your gaze. 

“Umm. I’m not—“ 

His eyes droop closed and Seishiro moans a bit when your other nipple is captured between his lips. You feel him grind slow against your thigh then. 

Muffled: “Not?” 

“Not sure…” 

He pulls off of you then, looking at you with shockingly awake eyes for Seishiro Nagi past 10 pm on a weekday. 

“Well. D’you wanna test it? See if you like it?” 

You giggle. “How?”

He answers by crawling over your leg so his hips are slotted between your thighs. There’s a pause while he runs his signature vacant stare down your face before, without further segue, he meets your lips. 

You smile into his kiss, loving the familiar Seishiro-nature of it all. His kisses are always languid and effortless, comfortable and often somewhat lazy, but you like them best that way. They feel comforting. Just like all his late night touches, so vulnerable and safe and raw it’s heartfelt. 

This kiss takes little time to grow messy, licking inside each other’s mouths and eventually drooling till you’re needy and twitching around nothing, and Sei can’t seem to help but grind against your center. 

Your eyes fly open when he does; he’s so hard. 

Your lips separate then, catching your breath in ragged gulps of air while fingers run through Nagi’s hair, pulling bangs out of his face.  He only grinds his boxers deeper into you.

“You’re gonna fuck me?” 

Your voice is a whine while you lift your hips to meet his next movement, fingers clawing his back and his neck, careful not to dig nails in—classically gentle for him. 

“Can I?” His tone is desperate in a special rare way—one he reserves for your ears late at night—while he lets his forehead rest on the pillow above your ear, the next buck of his hips slower and deeper. 

You nod frantically, ripping down your panties before helping him tug at his boxers. 

No time is wasted—it feels needy and rushed when Nagi sinks himself inside not a second later. You find yourself clinging onto his arms for support—he’s normally slower, a bit more careful with you since he’s so big, but it’s like he’s forgotten his size when he shoves past your entrance, gripping the flesh of your hip like a lifeline till he’s bottomed out. It's a good thing you’ve been dripping with anticipation for a while now.

There’s a beat of stillness when he does, silent except for shaky breaths, where you each do nothing but adjust. 

Then Nagi is bending to his elbows, reaching an arm behind your back to snuggle himself close before fucking into you like he’s possessed. 

There’s barely any build up before he’s moving like there’s lives on the line, rolling his hips hard and deep and moaning in your ear all the while. 

You wanna tell him it’s too much but the most you can manage is an “Ah- Sei—“ before he’s squeezing one of your thighs up, reaching a new angle that has your words replaced with gasps. 

He smears a kiss by your ear before answering in a whiny pant, “yes, mommy?” 

Your closed eyes snap open at that, feeling fresh heat bloom in your tummy. Oh. 

Your body starts grinding up to meet his hips without thinking while your arms wrap around Seishiro’s back, rubbing sloppy circles into his skin while he continues to absolutely ruin your pussy.

“You’re—“ you wrap the leg he was holding around him, “doing so-ngh good Sei.”

“Yeah? Doing good f’r you?” He pants, hopeful and boyish and cute. 

You can only nod, squeezing him tighter with your leg as you approach your peak, Nagi clearly not far behind you as he drops his forehead to the pillow above your ear again, hugging you closer while somehow still fucking into you with the same frantic precision. 

“‘Am I—nggh ‘m I a good boy then?” You clamp down at his words, earning a hiss.

“Y-your good boy?” He adds, almost whimpers.

“Uh-huh… You’re my- hah- good boy Sei.” 

You cum then, making a high pitch noise at the relief of it, feeling Nagi fill you up a moment after. He doesn’t stop moving till you’re sensitive and sticky and full, his weight falling onto you in a heavy blanket once he’s done. 

A lot of the time now is when Nagi’s eyes droop too much for anything further, he’s chronically sleepy after all. But when his face lifts to see yours, his expression is very much conscious. and adoring. 

“Mmm Nagi?” You murmur his name like a caress, sweet as you can manage while pushing hair from his eyes for the millionth time. 

“Mhm?” 

“Want me to ride you?” 

He nods fast. 

By the time you’ve switched places and you’re easing down onto him, Nagi is starting to yawn again a little. His head is resting against the headboard, he’s relaxed. Because this is routine—you ride him all the time and it’s comfortable.

But while it’ll always be comfortable when it comes to nagi—the sex feels different right now—extra tender somehow. Tender but also filthy because your new name is still in the back of your mind as you’re split open, thinking about Nagi being your good boy again. 

He is, of course, without trying. panting soft and pretty once you’re bouncing hips against him in earnest, warm hands squeezing at your sides to help guide you up and down. 

You kiss his temple when he does, asking “How’s it feel, sweet boy?”

You curl your center forwards then, earning a jagged moan while Nagi’s breath catches in his throat. 

“F-fuck- so good mommy. S’too good.” 

You’re rolling now more than bouncing, slowing down to prolong the impending creampie… you want this feeling to last. 

Your easier movements finally give nagi the potential for brain activity, letting him open his heavy eyelids to watch you work, running palms up to knead your tits. 

“Such a pretty mommy.” He adds almost idly, tugging your nipples and bucking his hips when you tighten around him. 

You can’t help but chuckle at his words, shy again somehow. 

Through a yawn he asks, “does the sweet boy get a kiss?” 

That makes you giggle even more before you’re leaning in, locking lips deep and sensual while Nagi starts to help guide you up and down his length again. Your mouths are quickly swapping spit and drooling as you find a rhythm that way, hitting a toe-curling sweet spot inside you over and over that has you crying out into Nagi’s mouth. He moves long fingers between you to lazily rub at your clit when he feels you’re getting close, thudding his head back against the headboard when you feel so good you can’t kiss him back anymore.

Soon you’re coming undone for the second time tonight around him, clamping down so tightly that nagi can’t help but cum with you, rolling the back of his head against the headboard with his eyes all scrunched, whines of ngh m-mommy as he does. You feel his hot cum fill you for the second time tonight then, pouring inside for even more than the first time it seems as you rub a soothing hand over Nagi’s chest and thumb over his cheek throughout. 

With our further ado there’s a collapse, both of you remaining snuggled together while you try and adjust so you’re laying the right direction on your bed. 

Yawning, your breathing finally begins to slow in his hold, pretty sure Sei’s already asleep. 

But then he moves, adjusting so you’re both on your sides while he spoons you, a big palm falling over your lower belly, rubbing it a bit. 

You try to sleep like that, but then you’re dwelling on the sticky mess that remains between your legs, and the spot that nagi keeps on rubbing beneath your belly button. Over your fucking womb. 

Your eyes shoot open.

“Wait- Sei— you’re not thinking of actually making me—?” 

You’re met with only a soft snore. 

[juuuulez]

it takes a while for carmy to warm up to the idea of positions besides missionary.

he just loves to see you. it’s intimate, and allows him to kiss you, hold your face, lick your neck. sure, maybe it’s a strain on his back sometimes, but he loves knowing that you’re all comfortable laying there, not needing to do anything but focus on the sensation of pleasure.

one night you decide to switch it up. you tell him, gently, that you’d love for him to hit it from behind. and carmy goes all red and blushing, stammering at the idea of taking you like that, of not being able to see your face.

“what if it’s uncomfortable?” he’ll ask “n i can’t see you, i won’t know.”

and you reassure him for being so silly. “i’ll say something, obviously. don’t be a baby ‘bout it, i’m a big girl.”

his hands shake when they finally clasp your hips, big palms rubbing nervously over the globes of your ass. your back is arched in a smooth slope, face pressed into the pillow, leaving you presented for him like a cat in heat.

now carmy understands. he’s able to get deeper than before in this position, drilling straight down into your sticky cunt, the gravity helping punctuate each of his harsh thrusts.

you moan and writhe beneath him, gasping between each breath that is punched from your lungs. “o-ooh, jesus, fuck—” you practically squeak. “so good, carmy. thank you, thank you.”

the way you appraise him is incessant, causing carmen to drive into you with a newfound burst of energy. one hand holds your hip in a bruising grip, the other finding leverage on the back of your neck, which prompts another drawn-out moan.

he’s more vocal in this position, too.

“yeah? like that?”

“you needed this, huh?”

“s’okay, you can take it, just a bit more. ‘m gonna cum, okay? good fuckin’ girl, lettin’ me fill ya up.”

by the end of it, your ass is red and bruised. it usually doesn’t get this bad because carmy can’t find himself to be rough when he’s staring at your wet little eyes. he kisses it all better, promising to get some sort of cream for next time, a promise that makes you grin.

“thank you, baby.” you’ll coo after he’s done fussing, pressing kisses into his cheek. “trying new things is fun, right?”

and usually, carmen doesn’t like admitting that he’s wrong, but this was worth it. his cheeks are hot as he dips his head down, evading your kisses to instead bite at your shoulder.

“yeah, yeah.” he grumbles. “don’t get a big head ‘bout it.”

[ellecdc]

Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea

So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort

it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team

It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.

“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”

“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”

But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.

Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.

“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”

Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.

You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”

Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”

You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.

Perhaps more importantly, neither had James

“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin’s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.

“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.

“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.

“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.

“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.

“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.

“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”

“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.

“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”

You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”

With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.

The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.

As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.

Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.

Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.

In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.

“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.

With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.

You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.

Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.

You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.

Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.

Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.

There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.

There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.

The pressure became too much.

You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.

“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”

You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.

“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.

Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.

“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”

“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.

“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.

“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”

“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”

“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.

“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.

“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.

“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.

“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.

“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.

“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.

“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron. 

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”

But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.

“Mr. Black.”

“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney. 

“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.” 

You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate. 

“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.

“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”

“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.

“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.

“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.

“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.

“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.

“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.

Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.

“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side. 

“I know.” He whispered back.

“So are you.” 

Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.

“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy. 

“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”

“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle. 

Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead. 

“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.

You nodded and offered him a small smile. 

Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.

“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.

“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.

James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.” 

You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Just sore.” You offered with a nod. 

“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching. 

“I need a healer!”

James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking. 

“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”

James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”

“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”

[jyoongim]

Alastors lover who is such small happy thing, always smiling but not like alastor creepy way, and who always dot on alastor and babies him. She never really got scared of him and always looks at him in awe in his demon form.

Think it would be amusing, hell even he would find it amusing such a small thing fussing and being overprotective on him.

You were quite a pleasant addition to the hotel. 

Unlike your partner, you were sweet and helpful.

Alastor thought your presence would ease the frazzled nerves of the residents if you were by his side.

You always wore a smile on your face, it wasn’t like Alastor’s ever present and malicious smile. 

It was genuine.

It was interesting to see how you and Alastor interacted.

The Overlord didnt mind your touches and fretting. He let you do what you please.

The two of you were polar opposites.

But opposite attract…and in those case it was just fascinating.

You were in the kitchen preparing dinner. Humming a soft tune as you cooked.

Most of the residents weren’t picky eaters and they loved your cooking, so you prepared something that everyone would like.

Once you finished everyone’s dinner, you started on making Alastor’s.

Alastor had rather peculiar tastes.

The kitchen filled with the residents as the smell of food wafted through the hotel.

You already had their plates prepared and dressed. Multiple voices chirped with appreciative remarks as they dug in.

Your smile widened when soft static filled the air, a feathery touch wrapped around you before Alastor’s voice greeted your ears.

”Morning doll! Dont you look hellish today” 

Your big doe eyes turned to greet his sharp ones.

“Good morning Al. Take a seat, Im almost done cookinng”

The tall red demon hummed as he took a seat at the table.

His ears flicked as you approach with a steaming plate.

”I hope you like it. Im not sure of the taste. I’ve never cooked flesh before but it looked a bit like sausage so I think it’ll be ok”

You heard several gags.

Alastor waved you off, picking up a fork “Oh I’m sure its fine. Your cooking ain’t ever failed me yet”

You finally took a seat to enjoy your own plate.

You chatted with the gang. Laughing at Angel’s jokes and agreeing with Charlie’s plans and offering advice for the day and talking with Vaggie.

Once dinner was over, everyone went about their night.

It was only you and Alastor left.

He sighed as he finished his food. “You have quite a way in the kitchen my dear. Dinner was delicious”

You giggled, taking his plate to wash.

The two of you chatted as you washed the dishes. He slithered behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as his head settled on your shoulder.

The two of you stood there in bliss until you finished and turned around.

“Why don’t you listen in on a broadcast tonight? Im sure you’ll find it entertaining” he chuckled.

You smiled as he escorted you to his radio tower.

———————————————————————-

“Alastor you need to see the tailor. Look at this!” You scowled as you held up his tail coat. The ends were raggedy, it was missing a button or two, and needed a few adjustments.

Alastor chuckled “I will make time to visit when Im out today”

You shook your head “No ill do it. You have a meeting today so don’t worry” Alastor’s brows raised “Then what am I to wear dear?”

You rummaged through the closet and pulled out another jacket. 

Alastor’s shadow wrapped around you, purring happily as you helped Alastor get ready.

Once he was properly dressed he bided you a goodbye before you stopped him.

You held his tie ”You’re not dressed properly. You want to be fully dress to terrorize the masses”

You smiled as you began to tie his bow tie around his neck. Alastor tilted his head as he watched you. You were much smaller compared to the demon. He watched as you focused on your task and mumble to yourself. You were so cute. Such a sweet soul you were. Fretting over a powerful Overlord.

Once in place, you fluffed it out and soothed out any wrinkles in his attire.

You beamed once you took a step back and admired your work. “There all ready and fashionable”

Alastor looked in the mirror and smiled at your work.

While he usually dressed in red, you had put him in black. You tucked a red handkerchief in his breast pocket and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Static popped and buzzed affectionately and before he could pull you into him, you pushed him to the door. “Now off with you. You have a busy day”

—————————————————————————-

Your small fame stood in front of Alastor as a sinner pulled his knife. You were growling and your hair swirled around you as your demonic form appeared.

The sinner laughed “Tsk! What man need a woman to defend him? Haha! Why don’t you settle down sweetheart hmm? After I kill this loser I can show you what a real man is like” he said suggestively, making your eyes narrow.

A large hand touched your shoulder “I can handle this dear” the sinner’s eyes widened as Alastor transformed and went to scream, but inky, black tentacles shot out from behind you to grab the demon.

Alastor stalked past you and tore into the demon, ripping him apart.

While most found Alastor’s demon form terrifying, you found it beautiful.

You watched as blood and limbs flew about, but you focused on Alastor.

He had grew twice his size, black antlers flared out and tall, deep growls and manic laughter erupted from his chest.

He sighed and patted himself down as he turned his nose up at the mess. Your hand skimmed his arm, to alert him of your presence. When he turned to you, blood covered his face. You lifted the hem of your dress and dapped it at his face, tutting “This face is too handsome to be covered in blood. You sure made a mess…Look at you! Its gonna take me forever to get these stains out” you huffed as you wiped his face clean. You smiled once he was clean. “Next time let m take care of it. I am perfectly capable of protecting myself or you if need be”

Alastor let out a chuckle, placing a claw under your chin. He leaned in to place a soft kiss to your lips

”You are very amusing my dear. Most cower in fear at my presence”

You rolled your eyes, lips curling wide “You don’t scare me Mr. Radio Demon” you leaned into him as he wrapped an arm around you and went about the day.

What a interesting little soul you were indeed.

[peachesofteal]

Can we please please please get some more Simon x single mother au? Possibly him helping in the garden/ keeping emmaline out of trouble while Mom works in the garden

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 18+ mdni / mild sexual content

“Ow! fuck!”

Your hand jerks, drawing back to your mouth with a hiss. 

“What is it?” He forces himself still, staring daggers at where the tip of your finger has started to leak blood, a thick drop dripping down the side before you bring it to your mouth, lush lips wrapping around your injury. “Are you alright?” His tone is tightly controlled, even keeled, nonchalant, but on the inside, worry gnaws away at his stomach, chewing through the organ until it’s spilling free and running rampant through his body. 

“There’s a piece of glass in here.” In the garden bed? “Some of the other tenants, hang around up here at night. They usually leave bottles or cans behind.” The worry turns to anger, a simple plan slowly taking shape in his mind, a strategy to find the rooftop partiers, and ensure they never leave glass in your garden again. 

Emmaline cries, nose and brows wrinkled in irritation, and you turn to coo at her, finger still half in your mouth. 

“It’s okay, little pea. Just give me a second.” She continues to fuss, and you sigh, wilting like one of your own little flowers, left too long in the sun without water. You blink, and it’s like you’ve shed your sunlit skin for an exhausted shell. Oh, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. 

I’m here now. 

“Can I?” He asks softly, warming at how your face lights with relief. 

“Yes, please.” You point to the bottle that’s tucked in the side of the backpack, and he unbuckles her from the bouncer that you lugged up the four flights of stairs earlier, even though he had texted you an hour before and politely suggested you wait for him to be finished his phone call, so he could help you. 

You went up anyway, much to his displeasure. Displeasure, that he had to swallow, permanently. 

You’re not his. Not yet. He can’t be disappointed by resistance or refusal when you don’t even know all the ways he can be there for you yet. He knows you’ll learn. You’re a smart girl. His smart girl. 

Emmaline lays nestled in the crook of his elbow, slightly elevated on her back, and he pops the cap of the bottle easily, rubbing his index finger against her cheek to trigger the reflex that will open her mouth. When it does, he keeps it at the right angle to ensure the formula doesn’t flow too fast into her belly. 

“You’ve done this before.” You murmur, reaching into the backpack for a band aid. You’re studying him, tracing over his face, his hands that are nearly the size of your baby, and he can feel the scrutiny, the curious intensity of your gaze. 

“Had a nephew. I was around a lot, when he was this age.” He had a brother too. And a mother. A sister-in-law. A family. 

Emmaline gurgles around the nipple, and he slips it free, sitting her mostly upright, giving her a gentle pat on the back amid her protestations, little grunts that he’s sure she means as ‘feed me’ and ‘more’. He waits for you to ask him the dreaded questions, the focus on the word had, the inevitable conversation about loss and family and pain, guilt and grief that can make a man feel like he’s been buried alive. 

You don’t.

Instead, you simply say, 

“Emmaline had a dad once, too.” 

It’s nearly 2100 when you knock on his door later, baby monitor in one hand, two amber colored bottles in another. 

“Hey. You busy?” His heart does a double tap inside his chest. Bad timing, the worst. Your sweet mouth is slightly open, hopeful, teeth parted just barely to reveal a flash of tongue, and his jaw clenches against the wild need that catapults through his veins to his cock. What do you taste like? What do you feel like? You motion to the monitor. “Just went down. Figure I have about an hour before I pass out myself and could use some adult time.” Shit. The duffel bag next to the door practically speaks for him, irritatingly reminding him he has a plane to catch in less than two hours. 

“I can’t, I’m about to head out.” Your brow furrows, confusion churning into understanding within a moment, disappointment flickering across your expression before it smooths out. 

“Right. Okay.” 

“I want to.” He hurries the words. “But I travel… for work and I have to be on a flight in a few hours.” You’re already half turning away, slinking off to your apartment, giving him a soft agreement as you go. 

“Sure, yeah.” 

“Wait, sweetheart,” You startle at the pet name, eyes going wide at the inferred affection. “when I get back, let’s… have a drink.” You nod, and he smiles a real smile, barely tugging his lips upward, probably hardly visible to you. The kind of smile he’s been wearing around you these past two weeks, the kind of smile he tries to give Emmaline when she stares at him. 

“Alright, sounds good then.” Your key finds your lock, and he steps out into the hallway, trapping your gaze with his own. 

“You girls be good.” He says, a parting instruction, and a bashful, bewildered smile of your own curves across your mouth. 

“We will.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Taking rookie under her wings like Ollie & Kimi. With their son, Jack as their younger brother. And Toto being so done with her but still love her as she was si kind in his eyes. Fluff and cute. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

Mama mode overdrive

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader, feat. Jack, kimi and Olli

Summary: In the aftermath of Kimi's crash at Monza, you take on a motherly role, comforting Kimi, worrying about Ollie Bearman, and ensuring that your little racing family is cared for and safe

______________________________________________________________

The Monza paddock buzzed with the usual high-stakes energy, but inside the private motorhome, it was a different kind of intensity—a quiet, comforting cocoon amidst the chaos. After Kimi's crash in P1, the tension hadn’t really left the air, not for you, not for anyone who cared about the young driver. His father, Petri, had arrived moments after you had managed to corral Kimi into the motorhome, his concern evident in the deep lines on his face.

But it wasn’t just Kimi you were worried about. Your mind kept drifting to Ollie Bearman, the young rookie who had also recently joined f1. Ollie wasn’t there today—he had a prior engagement. But that didn’t stop you from thinking about him, from worrying about whether he was eating enough, drinking enough, or getting enough rest. Ever since Ollie had joined f1, you had taken him under your wing, just like you had with Kimi. The young drivers were talented and fiercely determined, but still so young, and you couldn’t help but feel protective of them.

Petri stood by the small kitchenette, making a pot of tea as he glanced over at you. You were seated on the couch, gently coaxing Kimi to lean back and relax, your fingers running through his hair in a repetitive, soothing motion. Jack, your little boy, was curled up beside you, his tiny hand clutching yours, his wide eyes fixed on Kimi with a mix of concern and admiration.

Kimi, for his part, was trying his best to downplay the whole situation. “I’m fine, really,” he insisted, though his voice was a little too weak to be convincing. “It was just a bad corner, nothing to worry about.”

But you weren’t having any of it. “You’re going to rest,” you said firmly, smoothing back his dark hair. “You took a hard hit out there. Let me take care of you, okay?”

Kimi sighed, his resistance waning under your gentle insistence. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

“Nope,” you said with a small smile, continuing to gently rake your fingernails through his hair. It was a gesture that came naturally to you, something you did to comfort Jack when he was anxious or when Ollie was feeling the weight of a race. And now, it was helping Kimi relax, the tension slowly leaving his body.

Petri watched from across the room, his sharp eyes taking in the scene. He walked over with two mugs of tea, handing one to you before settling into the chair next to Kimi. “You know,” he began, his tone light but with a teasing edge, “you’re turning into a bit of a mother hen, Y/N.”

You looked up at Petri, a little surprised but mostly amused by the comment. “Am I?” you asked, not entirely sure whether to be flattered or defensive.

Petri chuckled, patting Kimi on the shoulder. “You’re fussing over him like he’s made of glass. But I have to say, I think he likes it.”

Kimi gave a tired laugh, his head resting against the back of the couch. “She’s worse than you, Dad,” he teased, though there was a warmth in his voice that belied the lightness of his words. “But... I guess it’s not so bad.”

Toto, who had been leaning against the doorway, couldn’t help but grin at the exchange. He stepped further into the room, moving to stand behind the couch where you and Jack were seated. “I’ve been telling her the same thing,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “But she just can’t help herself.”

You rolled your eyes at the two men teasing you, but there was a smile on your lips as you continued to run your fingers through Kimi’s hair. “I’m just making sure everyone’s okay,” you defended yourself, though your tone was playful. “After that crash, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.”

Petri nodded, his expression softening as he looked at his son. “I know you mean well, Y/N. And I’m grateful you’re here for him, for all of us, really.”

Kimi’s eyes fluttered open at that, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “You’re the best, you know that?”

You blushed slightly, not used to being the center of attention like this, especially when you were just doing what came naturally. “I just care about you guys,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to Jack, who had nestled into your side, his little head resting against your arm. “And I worry. Maybe a bit too much.”

Toto squeezed your shoulder, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “You do worry too much,” he agreed, his voice tender. “But it’s one of the things I love most about you. You’ve got the biggest heart.”

Petri nodded in agreement, though his teasing nature wasn’t entirely gone. “She’s got a heart big enough for this whole paddock,” he said, looking over at Kimi, who had closed his eyes again, clearly comforted by your presence. “But you’re right, Toto. We’re lucky to have her around, even if she does fuss a bit.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at their words. Maybe you were a bit overprotective, but seeing Kimi resting peacefully now, and knowing that Jack felt safe enough to relax beside you, made it all worth it.

As the afternoon wore on, the motorhome remained a sanctuary of sorts. Kimi dozed off fully, his breathing evening out as you continued to softly stroke his hair. Jack had also fallen asleep, his little hand still wrapped around your fingers, his small body curled into yours.

Petri watched the two boys—one his son by blood, the other his son in spirit—with a fondness that only a father could understand. He glanced at you, seeing the way you were caring for them both, and felt a deep sense of gratitude.

“You know,” Petri said softly, not wanting to wake the boys, “you’re really something special, Y/N. Not everyone would take on this kind of responsibility with so much love and patience.”

You looked up at him, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “I’m just doing what anyone would do,” you said, a bit embarrassed by the praise.

But Petri shook his head. “No, not just anyone. You’ve made this team feel like a family, and that’s not something you see every day. It means a lot to us.”

Toto, still standing behind you, nodded in agreement, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “He’s right. You’ve got a way of making everyone feel cared for, even when they don’t realize they need it.”

You blushed again, feeling a bit overwhelmed by their kind words. But as you looked down at Kimi and Jack, both of whom were now sleeping peacefully, you felt a deep sense of contentment. This little family you had built, here in the middle of the high-pressure world of Formula 1, meant everything to you. And if that meant being a bit overbearing, a bit of a “mother hen,” then so be it.

Toto leaned down to kiss your cheek, his voice soft in your ear. “I love you, you know that?”

You smiled, leaning into his warmth. “I love you too, Toto. And I love them,” you added, your gaze drifting back to the boys.

“We all do,” Petri added, his voice warm with affection. “Now, why don’t you get some rest too? You’ve been looking after everyone else all day.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then Toto gently pulled you up, guiding you to a chair nearby. “He’s right. You’ve earned a break,” he said, sitting you down.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

“I’m really sorry,” Steve is saying before Eddie has the door fully open, but it makes Eddie smile. It feels like Steve has started saying ‘I’m sorry,’ instead of ‘hello’ as a matter of course.

It’s Sunday afternoon though, and Eddie isn’t cooking anything and Steve isn’t holding an empty plate, so Eddie has no clue what Steve could be sorry for this time.

“Could you come and help me with something? It’ll just take two moments.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie agrees easily, slipping on his adventure crocs and following Steve down the hall.

Eddie follows Steve into and then through his apartment into the small bedroom. It’s a two bed apartment, the same as Eddie’s. Eddie uses his spare room to store his guitars. He has a desk in there too; a place to write and paint his miniatures and do guitar maintenance.

It’s a nursery. It’s cute, animal themed. The ceiling is painted powder blue, which drops down onto the walls about a foot before ending in a neatly done scalloped edge. The walls are white, but have cloud shapes printed on them in the same blue. There are random tufts of painted grass popping up from the floor; some with flowers. The rocker and the other furniture, including crib and chest of drawers, are all painted the same green, and the blinds are green jungle, with elephants and big cats and monkeys hiding amongst the leaves. A lot of the soft things are yellow and white, and Eddie has not a fucking clue as to the sex of Steve’s pup, so he asks as much.

Steve smiles, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I like surprises.”

“Huh. Well. I’m always the one shaking the gifts at Christmas, but I do love a surprise too. What did you need?”

“We have the fixings for the mobile there ready, but I clean forgot about it until now, and I’m too big to stretch up there. Didn’t do it at the time because we were moving furniture and I was frightened I’d break it.”

“Okay sure,” Eddie takes the dangly parts of the mobile; cute little moons and stars and sun shapes, and fixes it to the bit already attached to the ceiling. It’s nice, and easy to figure out, but it does hang low so he gets what Steve means.

He also sees why Steve can’t reach; he seems to have suddenly gotten even bigger over the last week, and he's also only been wearing these sort of loose shift dresses, like a blouse, a button up, and a tent had a horrendous love child.

He looks gorgeous though. Eddie always thought pregnancy must be pretty fucking miserable; your body betraying you almost. Needing to pee all the time, unreasonable hormones. Cravings. Morning sickness. Odd shit happening all over the place. Eddie always figured telling pregnant people that they’re ‘glowing’ was just a nice thing people said to make them feel better during what must be a pretty shitty nine months.

Not with Steve though. Steve’s actually glowing. Not like literally glowing but...he’s beautiful, and Eddie suddenly understands what all the fuss is about.

Steve clears his throat. Right. Right okay, Eddie’s creepy staring, “so I was going to make chicken parm again tonight, since I know you like it and it’s been a bit...do you maybe want to get out the apartment and come to another, slightly different, apartment?”

Steve laughs a little, looking at where his hands cradle his bump, before looking back up, cheeks pink, “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie’s laid the table as nice as he can. He snagged a little bunch of daisy looking things out of the garden and shoved them in a mug, just because he remembered Steve’s little daffodil.

He doesn’t own place mats, but he does dig out a table cloth he usually only uses for games night; it’s black, but it’s clean.

Steve settles himself at the table and Eddie goes and gets dinner, he can’t help but notice Steve shift in his seat, wincing.

“You okay?”

Steve hums, “been getting funny back pain, but it’s all normal. Could be anything really, just the weight of the baby, or maybe they are leaning on my sciatic nerve. It’s all fine. Nearly done now.”

Steve takes the first bite of his dinner and hums appreciatively. It makes Eddie warm inside, a little tickle of his brain releasing happy chemicals. Omega is being fed. Omega is safe and happy.

Eddie tells it to fuck off.

“So you’re due soon?” Which feels like he;s stating the obvious, Steve is the size of a tiny moon.

“Tomorrow.”

Eddie makes a noise, startled, then nearly chokes on a string of spaghetti, “excuse me,” he manages to get out, before drinking half his water, Steve looking half concerned and more than a little amused from the other side of the table. “Tomorrow?” Eddie asks weakly.

Steve nods, chewing and swallowing before he answers, “the due date is tomorrow, but it’s the norm really for first pups to go over that, even more normal with male Omega, don’t worry, it’s fine. Although it should be soon, I passed the mucus plug yesterday.”

Eddie nearly chokes again, “the what?” he tries his best not to sound too horrified.

“Oh. Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about the uhm, the kind of gross stuff.”

“No, no, of course it’s fine what is...uhm...that?” And Eddie is fully prepared to regret acquiring this cursed knowledge. He doesn’t even know what it is and he’s already eyeing his spaghetti sauce dubiously. For Steve though...he will learn about the gross stuff.

“Oh, well, when you’re pregnant you get sort of this...lump of...gacky stuff and blood. You don’t have periods when you’re pregnant usually, so it kind of protects everything from infection getting in and stuff like that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing up his bangs, and makes himself eat his dinner normally, “fair enough, but that means you’re...kinda’ close?”

“Well, kinda’. Robin’s spending this morning with her girlfriend and then this afternoon sorting her place out. She’ll be over later, she’s moving in until the pups a week old or so, just make sure I’m okay.”

“She’s...a really good friend, right?” It warms Eddie to know Steve has someone like that in his life.

“Yeah...she’s been there with me through everything. Every appointment, all the classes, everything. Even when I decided I wanted to do this it was...it was right after yet another crappy breakup, you know. She could have said all the sensible things about maybe it's not the right time yet, or that I should...think about it. You know, all that things that would have been totally reasonable for her to say but I'd just...I’d just had enough of waiting and she said she’d support me whatever, and that was that. She’s the best.”

Steve shifts again, putting down his cutlery to try and stretch his back out, hissing with pain, “you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asks, concerned.

“Yeah, fine I think,” Steve bends forward then, gripping the edge of the table and breathing out harshly through his nose, “oh that felt weird.”

Eddie’s up and coming around the table before he can stop himself, hovering his hands, not sure if it’s okay to touch, “Steve?”

“I...oh. Oh gosh I’m so sorry Eddie,” Steve stands cautiously revealing a very clear wet patch on the seat.

“I...that’s fine,” Eddie squeaks out, “are you...is this. Is that…?”

“Yeah, pretty sure my water just broke. And I really wanted that chicken parm,” Steve sighs.

“I can make it again,” Eddie says reflexively, “kind of feel like there’s bigger things to think about what should- like can I help? What do we do?”

Eddie finds himself, very strangely, not panicking. Like, well, maybe a little, but not an uncontrollable amount. Which now he’s here that’s a really nice surprise.

“I’ll just call Robbie, and then will you walk me home?”

And Eddie had maybe had inappropriate thoughts about walking Steve home so he could steal a kiss, not whatever this is. But. Still. “Of course.”

Steve smiles at him with his phone next to his ear, “it’s go time Birdie. Oh, what was I supposed to say? Code red? The eagle is...leaving? I can’t remember, you couldn’t make your mind up about the-” Steve hisses, bending to lean on the table, “yep, yep, see you soon.”

Steve hangs up, telling Eddie she’s on her way as they walk down the hall, dinner abandoned on the table. Steve chooses to stand, walking little laps back and forth along the back of the couch, “is there anything I can do?”

“My bag and car seat are in the nursery, if you don’t mind grabbing those?” Eddie does, putting Steve’s things right by the door, “oh, and a towel, from the bathroom? I don’t want to make a mess in Rob’s car.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie grabs a bath towel from there, and puts it on top, just as Steve’s phone starts ringing.

Eddie can practically feel it when Steve tenses up, his scent turning bitter with distress. Despite what’s going on, Steve’s scent hadn’t changed at all until now, “your car won’t start?”

He sounds terrified.

“I. Yeah. Okay. I can wait I’ll- okay.”

“Okay?” Steve shakes his head, eyes suddenly wet, he looks like he’s biting back tears and Eddie can’t stop himself from going to him.

“She’s got to wait for Chrissy to get to her place and pick her up, then they’ll come over,” Eddie has to make this better. He has to.

“Okay, how about this, me and you go now, I’ll take you, and they can meet you there? That’ll make it faster right?”

“I mean, I’m not...I mean labor can take hours and hours, I’m being silly I just- Eddie I’m a bit scared. She was supposed to be here, it’s a bit too soon.”

They end up holding hands, which Eddie’s kind of thrilled about even if Steve is squeezing the life out of him, “would you feel better if you were waiting at the hospital?”

Steve bites his lip, clearly torn, “are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’ll get my keys.”

Part Four

[writtenbymoonflower]

may i leave the suggestion of poly!marauders with a clumsy!reader

i just KNOW they would be stressed constantly

yes you may, hunny! thanks so much for requesting! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: mentions of injury, swearing

773 words

You were hoping and praying that the sound of your hip smacking against the doorknob would go unnoticed by your boyfriends, but much to your dismay, Remus’ head had spun around to look at you, and he quirked a brow at your slip-up. He was looking at you with much judgment, but there was playfulness glinting in his amber irises. 

“Again, dove? That’s like the fourth time today.” His voice was teasing but his features were laced in concern. 

“No…” you denied. You weren’t technically lying, because it was actually the sixth or seventh. 

“At this rate we’re gonna have to take all the doorknobs off.” James teased, making you roll your eyes. 

Before you could think of a response, Sirius cut in. “I’m not sure that would help Prongs, they’re determined to bump into everything.” 

“I don’t bump into everything. Stop being so dramatic.” You put all your focus into walking steadily into the kitchen, not wanting to prove their point even further. 

“Whatever you say, babe.” Sirius said, in a tone that clearly showed he did not believe you. You ignored him, going to the cupboard to grab a cup, only you ended up failing miserably. The cup slipped from your grip, bouncing off the shelf, hitting the counter, and rolling onto the ground, ending up by Sirius’ feet. (This is the reason you had plastic cups) 

“Wha-” James struggled through barking laughter. “What were you just saying, gorgeous?” You took it in stride, marching over to Sirius to pick up the cup. 

Unfortunately, you forgot that Sirius is himself, and he took your position as an opportunity to pinch your ass, making you stumble and slip backwards. You would’ve fallen if he hadn't caught you. 

“Don’t be mean Pads, you know they’re jumpy.” James scolded his boyfriend. 

“I know, it’s just so funny. They’re like a little baby fawn.” He teased as you wormed your way out of his grasp defiantly. 

“It’s not funny, it’s worrying.” Remus scolded the two other boys, beckoning you over. You happily took the escape, deciding you would take his coddling over their bullying. Remus grabbed your arm, trying to pull you into him, but you hissed suddenly. Remus looked confused, but it was James who spoke up. 

“Shit, baby! I didn’t even notice that.” The time it took for you to realize what he was talking about was very little, remembering the blooming bruise that spread over your upper arm. 

“Ouch, lovely.” Remus sympathized, though you knew you were in for a telling off soon. “How have you done that?” 

“I- I don’t remember.” You admitted, shamefully.

“What do you mean you don’t remember? You have a bruise the size of Asia on your arm!” James said, exasperated. He was being dramatic, as is his usual fashion when it came to you. 

“I don’t know, it just showed up.” You said, cheeks flaming at the attention. 

“A bruise like that doesn’t just ‘show up.’” Sirius said back, equal parts teasing and stressed. 

“I probably just bumped it on something.” You floundered, very much ready for this conversation to be over. You honestly didn’t know what they expected, as much as you would never be caught admitting it, you were quite clumsy. There were usually a myriad of bruises littering your skin, varying in color and age from bumping into things or falling over. Not to mention the scars and scrapes on your hands from kitchen or craft accidents. You had to admit, you gave your boyfriends a fair amount of injuries to fuss over. 

And fuss they did.

“Well we knew that.” Sirius snarked back, still loving as ever. “The issue is that you bump into things so often you don’t remember specific occasions. I mean, come on ba-"

“Settle.” Remus cut his eyes to Sirius. Despite how much it seemed like he was picking on you, it came from a place of concern, much like James’ babying and Remus’ scolding. You softened at their worried expressions. 

“Look, I’ll try to be more careful, okay?” You said, threading your fingers into Remus’ mousy hair and giving a reassuring smile to the other two boys. 

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” James consoled. “We just get protective, you know that. We don’t like you getting hurt, especially when you ignore it.” He gave you a knowing look. “Just look after yourself, for our sake.” 

“Okay,” You sighed, overdramatic. “I guess I’ll try, it’s such intense labor, though.” You said sarcastically, walking away to the bathroom and hearing your boys chuckle. 

Whack! Your thigh collided with the end table. 

“That’s it!” Sirius called. “I’m ordering you a bubble suit.”

[theonewiththefanfics]

Homecoming (one-shot)

Synopsys: When Y/N goes missing during a simple supply run, she comes back with world-shattering news for Astarion. News he never thought to hear, and now he has a decision to make, one that will shift his life on its axis once more.

Set after the main events of BG3

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, a bit of SMUT, but nothing explicit

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit, kidnapping

Word count: 8397

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Part 2(ish) - Love Conquers All (one-shot)

A home was not something to ever be taken for granted, that much they had learned during their adventures.

A home was a fire slowly crackling in the hearth, warmth expanding through the living room. A home was Astarion sitting on a loveseat, a book in his hands while he waited for his love to finish puttering around in the kitchen. A home was drying tea leaves and making preserves for the coming winter as she shooed him out, saying that his fussing would only hinder her process.

He’d huffed, puffed and whined, trying to make Y/N pull away from her plans just so they could curl up and read together, but she was adamant.

“I’ve already started.” She dropped an orange peel and pressed some lemon juice into the steaming pot. “It’ll be wasted produce if I just leave it now.”

“But it will take you hours!” Astarion whined like a child and even stomped his foot, making her snort.

“And it will take me twice as long if you don’t stop annoying me.” Y/N threw him a saccharine smile over her shoulder, batting her lashes at the pouting vampire. “Now, be a good boy, and quit pestering me. We’ll have all the time in the world, once I’m done.”

Astarion just groaned, going up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist, the incisors he usually sank into her neck now nipping at her lobe. “I can be a very good boy if you only let me prove it.”

“My love, you will be getting absolutely no sex from me, if you don’t let me at least finish this batch.” A shiver rushed down her spine as he licked at her neck, so close to that sweet spot he always used as a place to bite and drink from. But she had to be strong. The jams wouldn’t make themselves. “Every additional minute you keep me from this will be an additional day of your dry spell.”

The vampire spawn jumped back from her as if he’d been scalded, scarlet eyes narrowing in on her. “You wouldn’t dare. You wouldn’t last an hour!”

Y/N turned around, crossing her arms as a devious smile bloomed on her lips, a brow raised in challenge. “Would you like to test those waters?”

Astarion stood, staring her down. His crimson gaze was blazing from underneath his lashes, but she didn’t budge. They’d played this game for close to three years as a couple now, and she’d learned very quickly – Astarion was very much so a cat. But especially – he was a cat that liked to knock things over while keeping direct eye contact with you, though the second you placed a palm underneath whatever it was he wanted for to fall, all his need for chaos disappeared. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

For twenty long seconds, Y/N and her pale elven lover didn’t break, hoping the other would crumble and be announced as the loser, but part of what he loved about her, was her stubbornness. It was because of that part of her personality, she’d stuck by him when his doubts had crept in, when his own mind called him worthless and not good enough for her, almost as if to spite those vicious words in his mind. She didn’t give up on the people she loved, and as luck would have it, Astarion owned her heart.

But Y/N also knew how to handle a cat like him, so just after a few more tense moments, his eye twitched, and he huffed in defeat.

“Fine,” he scoffed. “But if you are not done by sundown, I shall have no other option but to drag you away from the stove. Kicking and screaming preferred.”

Y/N simply shook her head, and went to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling the man into a deep, breathless kiss, but not before nipping at his bottom lip, dragging the piece of flesh between her teeth and making him let out a desperate moan. “I’ll even let you tie me up if you wish to do so.”

Astarion’s pupils almost swallowed the red irises in a matter of seconds, as he threw his head back in a groan. “My love, you’re absolutely killing me here.”

“Then I hope whatever punishment you deem fit for me, will be just oh, so sweet.” Y/N stepped back, untangling herself from him, but the mischievousness in her eyes didn’t lessen.

She could see how the words tortured him, how it took every single last piece of his fraying self-control, to not rip off her apron and the clothes underneath and just lay her down on the kitchen table, legs spread with his mouth licking into her until she orgasmed.

With eyes holding nothing but pure lust and hands clenching and unclenching, Astarion retreated. Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t hot and bothered and absolutely dripping between her thighs, and the thought of finishing those jams was the last thing on her mind, but she did have to do it. If only to keep him waiting longer, knowing whatever his beautiful brain was cooking up would leave her screaming and shaking for hours.

They’d been growing their own vegetables and fruits, Y/N tending to them during the nights to spend more time with Astarion as he fussed over his flower gardens, so it would simply be wasteful to leave their berries to rot. The year had been very generous and offered a variety of things to gather, so a while back, she’d decided to pickle some of the tomatoes and cucumbers, turn another batch of peppers and tomatillos into sauces while the sweeter things would be turned into syrups and jams.

Y/N shook her head, trying to clear it from the haze of lust, as the aroma of lemons and cranberries, raspberries and oranges wafted all around, encasing her in the scent. She was just about to add the sugar when the tin rattled with the sound of the last grains left.

Her brow furrowed as she opened the lid and looked inside. Sure, enough it was empty.

The woman huffed. She was absolutely positive she’d gotten the right amount during the last trip, but somewhere along the way it seemed a miscalculation had happened, and now she had to get more. Y/N would have asked Astarion, and had the sun dipped below the horizon, he would have jumped at the request, but alas his little vampiric predicament forbade him from walking during the day, the sun still high in the sky from what she could see through a tiny slit in the shutters.

Quickly, Y/N snuffed out the flame below the pot, untied her dirtied apron and grabbed a basket from the pantry, tying a pouch of coins to her side. She only needed sugar, but maybe she would grab some other necessities as well. They were low on Astarion’s favourite wine, one he claimed didn’t taste like vinegar at least.

“I’m off to the market really quick,” Y/N announced as she peeked into the living room, taking in Astarion as he flipped a page in a book. “Do you want anything?”

“No, my love.” He looked at her like a love-sick puppy. “Just your darling self back as quick as you can. I have picked up some… inspiration for your punishment if you will. Just as you suggested, of course.” He closed the book, showing the cover to her.

Heat crawled all over her body as she read the title, one of her smuttier romances she had started to read, and when she could do nothing but gulp and nod, his smile turned from a sweet one into a wicked-fanged thing. It was all she needed to know whatever awaited her once she was done would leave her unable to walk. Gods, she needed to finish this whole thing up as quickly as she could.

Y/N was out the doors like the wind, the usual stroll to the market cut from half an hour into a brisk fifteen-minute jog, the thoughts of the man waiting back home for her at the forefront of her mind.

The needed sugar, some coffee beans, a loaf of fresh bread, Astarion’s wine and some sour cream were all bought in quick succession, Y/N didn’t even try to haggle. Her eyes drifted across various stalls and merchants and she almost deemed it done when her gaze caught onto a rose seedling. It was a beautiful bloom with blood-red petals that whitened at the very tips. She smiled and went to buy it. Astarion would love the symbolism even if a bit too on the nose.

Once satisfied with everything, Y/N marched across the market and was back on the road to home. It was a humble little house they’d purchased with whatever had been left in their pockets after all was said and done with the tadpoles, but Astarion had bigger plans. This was only a temporary situation.

“I want a whole room full of books. Nothing but books from one end to the other and then some,” he’d confided in Y/N one night after both were panting and spent from multiple rounds of bringing the other to ecstasy.

“And a large ballroom,” he continued, and Y/N couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped her.

“A ballroom? And what will we do with that?”

“Why, have grand balls, of course!” He threw his hands up in the air as if her question was preposterous.

“Star…” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him from where she was lying on his naked chest. “You hate people. A ballroom full of them – it would be your literal nightmare.”

“I don’t hate people.”

“I don’t count.”

“Alright,” he conceded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Y/N placed her palm atop where his heart was and rested her chin on it, looking deep into his eyes. “I hate most people, simply dislike them, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a get-together, from time to time. Maybe… maybe see our friends. Catch up on how they’re doing. I absolutely despise to admit this and will say you are lying if you ever mention it to anyone, but I – I miss them… even Gale…”

A gentle smile lifted her lips as she brushed a wild curl out of his face and tucked it behind his pointy ear. “I think I’d really like that too.”

His eyes were so soft and full of love, that Y/N swore she could feel his heart beating once more in his chest, thudding against her palm in a confession of adoration.

She was almost out of the city by that point, already on the small, secluded road leading to their house which lay on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate right by the edges of the woods, so Astarion had easier access to game in between feeding on her when her attention was drawn back by someone calling out.

“Miss!” the voice, male she made out, yelled after her. “Miss, please wait!”

Instantly, her guard was up, but when a breathless man, looking to be in his late sixties appeared from behind a copse of trees, she somewhat relaxed. Y/N was still cautious, but if anything, she had a dagger holstered against her thigh. She was always prepared.

“Miss,” he gasped out, leaning his hands against his knees to catch his breath. “Miss, you are a quick one. I’ve been calling for you since by the rose stalls."

“Oh, I – I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you!” Y/N said but didn’t move forward. “How can I help?”

He huffed, as if regaining her breath, before fishing out a piece of fabric from his pocket, and extending it towards her. “You dropped this by the flowers.”

When she took a closer look at what he was holding, it seemed to be some sort of a silk scarf. She narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t own silk scarves and definitely hadn’t worn one on such a warm day. “You must have mixed me up with someone, as it’s not mine. Sorry, for you to have troubled yourself like this.”

“No.” The man furrowed his brow, taking a step closer. “I am fairly certain I saw you drop it. Such a fine piece… didn’t want you to lose it.”

Y/N took a step back, angling herself in a defensive position with the basket in front of her. She didn’t like the tone he was speaking in, nor the way his eyes seemed to be appraising her. “No,” she asserted. “It’s not mine.”

His back stiffened, eyes growing cold, the grip on the scarf tightening as he hummed. “Well… a pity then.”        

She took another step back, but he was already lunging at her.

Dropping the basket to the ground, she reached for the knife strapped at her thigh, but he was quick as a viper as she hadn’t even noticed when a rope appeared in his hands, lashing it at her. Years of having fought had kept her agile and aware, but years of domestic bliss with Astarion had dulled her senses a bit.

The rope caught and wrapped around her ankle, knocking her to the ground. Y/N’s teeth clattered and snapped, her tongue almost in between them, but as he rushed to pin her down, she twisted her leg around the rope and pulled, making the man lose his balance and stumble.

It was enough for her to swipe her leg underneath his, and send him sprawling. It was enough for her to untangle her legs and roll away as he snapped it at her head. Her clothes were dirty as was her face, but it didn’t matter. She’d cover herself in blood if needed.

It was almost animalistic how she pounced – teeth bared, a snarl ripping from her throat and hands forming claws as if she would gouge at his face with just his nails, but as her palm brushed her thigh, unclipping the holster for her dagger, Y/N didn’t see the man had crouched on his knee and swung the cord.

It knocked the air out of her, as it wrapped around her chest, and he pulled her down, hard. Her ribs were screaming as the tether tightened and tightened with every pull, but as she thought this would be it, something strange happened – instead of offering her the killing blow, he opened a palm, now covered in a leather glove, and blew the contents of it onto her face.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, but whatever it was, was fast-acting and her lungs, still incapable of proper breathing due to the rope couldn’t expel it. In just a few seconds, the bright day around her turned into darkness.

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious for, but enough time had passed to dry out her throat. Or was that a side effect of whatever was blown into her face? In any case, as she slowly came to, Y/N noted there was a soft mattress under her body, which was an oddity for someone kidnapped. She could even tell the dagger was still by her thigh, the comforting weight of the blade pressed under her. Even weirder, if you asked her, to not disarm your victims.

Darkness still encompassed her, but the soft cloth against her cheeks told her she hadn’t permanently lost her vision, but with her sight obscured, she had to rely on her ears. That’s when voices invaded her senses.

There were three people somewhere further away, most likely in a different room if taken by how muffled the words were. She focused harder on what they were saying.

Two men and a female, Y/N differentiated, when the woman spoke.

“This is not what we agreed upon!” she hissed, and a grumbly-sounding man scoffed.

“You said to get her to you. I did. You never specified how.” It was the same man who’d knocked her out.

“We want her to help us!” A different male voice, this one softer, even kinder, rebutted. “I highly doubt kidnapping is a good incentive for that!”

“Look,” her assailant said. “I fulfilled my end of the deal. She is unhurt, maybe she'll sport a couple of bruises and a headache, but that is her own fault. She could have come willingly but didn’t. Other than that, though – she is completely fine. Now you do your part!”

As the trio argued between themselves, more angry whispers than shouting, Y/N started to shimmy her hands which had been bound, out of the restraints. She had a good inclination they needed her alive but had no want of staying as a prisoner.

Though her fighting skills seemed to have mellowed, which she was not happy about, even a couple of years without mortally dangerous adventures, hadn’t changed how quickly she could slip her wrists from their bindings.  Astarion might need to get more creative during their debauchery.

Y/N froze the second she heard a door open and shut, two pairs of footsteps moving closer and closer to where she was. Her breathing was shallow and almost imperceptible, as she tried to make it look like she was still unconscious.

She could sense two bodies enter the room and one move to stand where she faced, the other going to her back.

Y/N tensed. In just a few moments, whoever was behind her, would notice her undone binds. But she’d be ready.

“Darling, please be careful,” the woman said, a tremble in her voice.

Good. Let them be scared.

“Don’t worry,” the man replied. “I’ll just make sure she’s – what in the -”

But Y/N was already up, the blindfold off and ready to pounce. This time, she’d have the upper hand.

For a second, the light in the room blinded her, but her sight refocused fast enough to take in her captors’ faces.

The woman was beautiful, with high rosy cheekbones, and jade green eyes so vivid they looked like actual gemstones. Her hair was long and dark, down to her waist while grey strands seemed to have invaded the brown tresses in some places, but she was still ethereally gorgeous, her pointy ears covered in piercings.

Y/N snapped out of the shock quicker and using this to her advantage, she was behind her in a matter of a blink, her dagger pressed tight against her throat.

A gasp entered her ears, but she just pressed the blade harder, making her whimper.

“Please!” the man made her look at him, but instead of bracing for an attack, he had his hands up in surrender. “Please don’t hurt her! We just want to talk.”

“Funny way of having a conversation you’ve got there.” Y/N tightened her grip on the knife, surveying the man. Again, those same pointed ears, but his eyes were the most brilliant blue she’d ever seen and his face was marred with more age lines than the woman’s, yet he still was as gorgeous as she. “Typically, only my enemies would knock me out and tie me up before spilling their grand plans. But I will be kind and give you a choice – what would you like to be – friends or foes?”

“Friends! Friends! Please! We – we’re looking for our son!” the elven man pleaded. “And we – we heard a rumour that you might know him. Have even seen him.”

Y/N narrowed her Y/E/C eyes, piercing his with her gaze. “I’ve known and seen a lot of people. Usually, others just ask me about them, they don’t have someone kidnap me.”

“And we’re sorry, we’re so very sorry, but we had to make sure you came. It went too far and we apologise, but please…” He took in a deep breath, worried eyes flipping between his partner and her. “Our son – his name is Astarion. Astarion Ancunin. Have you – do you know of him?”

Hearing his name, knocked the breath out of her as if they’d snapped a rope around her chest again, making her stumble back. Her grip on the woman released, and she used the moment to leap over to her partner, using the bed as a buffer. He instantly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her half behind his back, but not before checking if Y/N’s dagger had pierced the skin.

Tears brimmed in the eleven woman’s green eyes as she looked at her, not even caring that just a moment before she was so close to having her blood dripping on the floor. “Please,” she whispered. “I – I know we didn’t go about it the right way, but please… is it true he’s alive?”

"I,” Y/N stammered, her gaze snapping back and forth between the two.

Astarion.

They were Astarion’s parents.

Even after all this time, they were searching for their missing son.

Y/N should have noticed the details – how the woman had a small mole on her cheek right where Astarion did, how the shape of the man’s eyes was the exact same as his son’s. Astarion even had the same high cheekbones as his mother while his sharp jaw was that of his father.

What had his eyes been like before? Green like his mother’s or the sky blue of his father's? What had he been like as a child? No doubt as mischievous and scheme-prone as he was now, but who had he gotten it from? So many different questions rattled through Y/N’s brain as she kept glancing back and forth, before shaking her head and pulling her out of the shocked stupor.

“You – you’re Ancunins?” She had to ask. Had to make sure she hadn’t overheard them or maybe hallucinating because of the powder she’d inhaled.

“Yes.” The woman nodded, brushing tears from under her eyes. “Our son has been missing for more than two hundred years, and we almost lost hope until… until we heard about you and your company a few years back. How one of the party members resembled our little Star so much.”

They hadn’t been inconspicuous, though they had tried, so it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that tales of their adventures had gone far and wide, especially after saving Baldur’s Gate, killing Cazador and the absolute, and Gods know how many other evils along the way. But she never thought Astarion’s parents would have heard of it.

In fact, Astarion had barely even mentioned them over the years, and, for whatever reason, Y/N had concluded they must have passed, despite knowing elves lived extremely long lives. Had he maybe tried to find them on his own and couldn’t? Or had he forgotten about them?

Until Astarion and Y/N had become an official couple and she’d commissioned a portrait of him as a gift on an anniversary, he hadn’t even seen himself in two centuries. He’d forgotten what he looked like. It didn’t seem too crazy to assume, the memories of his parents’ names or their faces, might’ve slipped away as well, or even the love they had for him. Especially knowing how deeply Cazador had ruined that notion for him.

She needed to get home. She needed to see Astarion, and then she could figure out what to do.

“I need to go.” Y/N nodded to herself, muttering under her breath. “I need to think.”

“No, please!” the woman lunged, trying to grasp at her, but she had a knife pointed at her chest in an instant, making the elf shrivel back, but still, she pleaded. “Please help us. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate! If you can’t help, who will?”

“I promise I will do my best,” Y/N said. “But I need time… I – I need to figure all of this out.”

Her mind was swirling like a hurricane, but the man interrupted her breakdown as she realised how pretty much her in-laws, had kidnapped her. “At least tell us this – is – is it true he is alive? Or have we travelled across Faerun under the pretences of false hope?”

In truth, Y/N wanted to take them by the arms and drag them to her house, but whether Astarion wanted to reach out and reconnect, was up to him. That sort of a choice was not hers to make, but she could grant them this one request.

“He is.” Y/N nodded.

And then she left as quickly as she could because if she had to stand there and watch as the elves crumbled into one another, cries of relief and joy escaping into the slowly setting day, she would crumble too. Their faces were already permanently burned into her mind, and she needed a moment to process everything.

By a stroke of luck or fate, Y/N instantly recognised she was in the woods on the other side of Baldur’s Gate, so retracing her steps to the market was fairly easy even though the whole way back home, she was pretty much stumbling around in a daze, knocking into people and tripping over her own two legs.

Her discarded basket was right where she’d left it, gold coins scattered around it. The pouch must’ve broken during the struggle. Y/N made sure to pick every single piece up and was more than relieved to see, that the rose bloom was still intact.

By the time she arrived, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and as the last rays warmed her back, she extended her palm to open the door, though she didn’t even get to touch the handle as it was ripped open by a visibly distressed Astarion.

His eyes looked like he’d been crying, his hair as if he’d been relentlessly raking his fingers through the locks and his lower lip so bitten, there was a small hole where one of his incisors had gone through.

“Oh, thank the Gods!” Astairon instantly grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her in a bone-crushing hug, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “Thank the Gods!”

Y/N dropped the basket over the threshold and closed the door with her foot, her own arms weaving around his middle, a palm soothingly brushing along his side, as he soaked her in.

“I’m alright, Star,” she said, kissing his temple and didn’t even make a noise as he gripped her waist tighter, right where bruises were forming. “I’m sorry I was gone so long, but I’m alright.”

“What happened? You said you’d be quick, but you were gone for hours! And you know what the worst part was – I couldn’t even go out looking for you because of the damned fucking sun!” Astarion cupped her face, turning it this way and that way, trying to find any injuries, but the biggest one would be in her head as she tried to figure out how to explain to him what had happened. “Gods, I am never letting you out of my sight again!”

Y/N indulged the vampire in the hug he pulled her in, holding him against her chest, trying to comfort him, but she was way too consumed with her new findings. Too quickly, as evident by the frown on Astarion’s face, she untangled herself from the embrace, anxiety immediately flashing over his handsome features.

She slid her arms from around his waist to take his palms into hers. “I – I don’t even know how to say this… How do you say something like that?”

Worry instantly marred his brow, and Y/N pressed a practised thumb between them, trying to soothe them away.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No!” She cupped his cheeks. “Astarion you’ve done nothing!”

“Then – then what?” He was tentative, still, scared Y/N might be angry at him. Or worse – wanted to leave, but her next words erased all that doubt.

“I…” She took in a deep breath. “Astarion, I met your parents today.”

Whatever he had expected, clearly that hadn’t been it. Probably a confession she’d met a past love, that their feelings were reignited and she wanted to go with them. But definitely not that.

He blinked once, twice, trice, completely and utterly stupefied before a small whisper of “What?” passed his lips.

“It’s why I’m so late,” Y/N explained. “They’d heard a rumour, that I knew you and had travelled with you during our tadpole situation, and came to me. Astarion, your parents are looking for you…”

A million thoughts seemed to swirl in his head, but Y/N held onto his hand through all of them.

“What,” he cleared his throat, “what did you tell them?”

“That I’d find them once I figured out what to do?”

“Which means?”

“Which means I would come home, give you this information and let you figure out what you’d like to do…”

So many emotions flashed across his face, but Y/N no longer needed that mind flayer tadpole connection it created – Astarion was an open book for her to read.

Joy. Such indisputable joy shone in his scarlet eyes before being consumed by confusion. Then anger and disgust and love, but by the end of it all his heart settled on one feeling – fear.

It’s what it knew best, though Y/N had tried her hardest to reduce it to ashes, yet still it lingered. She understood it, despite not being happy he ever had to feel it.

He feared what to do, what would be the right choice to make, he feared their reactions and what they would say of his disappearance or of his newest… condition. Would they accept him? Or would they be repulsed by him?

“What – what would I even say to them?” Astarion searched her Y/E/C eyes as if they held an answer, but when one magically didn’t appear, he hung his head, a tear rolling down his cheek. “I can’t even remember what they looked like. Their names, the house we used to live in… it’s all a fog.”

Y/N tried to give him an encouraging smile. “Well, your mother – she has the most beautiful green eyes. Like that dress you made for me for Summer Solstice, that same shade. And – and she has a little beauty mark on her cheek.” With a gentle thumb, she brushed over the mole. “Right in that same spot.”

His brows furrowed in concentration; his lips pinched tightly. “I – I remember blue eyes. Not green.”

“That might be your father's. His are azure I’d say. Like the summer sky. Gods, Astarion,” Y/N breathed out. “You look so much like them, but… honestly, the only thing you need to know right now is that they looked relieved.” Her voice was soothing as he tried to find lies in her words, but there would be none. “I didn’t tell them anything apart from the fact that you’re alive, and all I saw was complete and utter relief.”

Y/N placed a strand of hair behind his ear as he pondered. His carmine eyes slid to hers. “Do they want to see me?”

“Yes. It was the whole reason they sought me out because I might have a single scrap of information on you.” She’d mention the kidnapping later. Or maybe never, depending on how everything went. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Is it,” he hesitated, as if ashamed to be asking such a question. “Is it alright if I think this over for a bit? I’m just – there’s so much going on in my head…”

“Of course, Star!” Y/N cupped his cheeks and placed a reassuring kiss on his forehead. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, his shoulders dropping, but she just shook her head.

“Nothing to thank me for. Not for this.”

And so, they continued on like that for a few days – Y/N didn’t bring the subject up, but she made sure Astarion knew, she’d be there whenever he needed to talk. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about the two elves in that little cottage on the other side of the town. How horrid it must be to wait for an answer that might never come, but her love was her first and only priority. When he decided it would be time, she’d support him no matter what.

It was a week after the revelation (and subsequent freakout on Astarion’s part when Y/N had removed her clothes before him, and he saw the raw skin and bruises on her ribs. She spent the whole night convincing him it was fine and talking him down from hunting the mercenary and bleeding him dry. She didn’t mention it had been his parents who’d hired him but rather said it had been an unfortunate coincidence), when Astarion awoke with a certain determination, shaking her awake.

She swatted at him like an insect buzzing by her ear. “Leave me be, you blood-sucking, elf!” Y/N grumbled, burying herself under the duvet. “It’s too early. And stop hogging the covers!”

She was just about to elbow him in the ribs if he didn’t let her sleep more, but what he said was like cold ice being poured over her, waking her up completely.

“I think I want to see my parents.”

Y/N was sat in a second. The sheet dropped down, exposing her naked chest, but she didn’t even feel the chilly air biting at her skin, even though Astarion’s gaze immediately dropped down to her breasts, eyes blazing with want.

Rolling her own eyes, she pulled the cover so that it obscured her indecency. Though it was his favourite outfit of hers, they needed to focus on the important things. “Are you sure? You can take all the time you need. There is no rush to this, and it’s a huge decision to make.”

“I’m sure,” Astarion sighed, running a hand through his moon-white locks and dropping back onto the pillows. “It’s pretty much all I’ve been thinking about.”

Y/N worried her lip before sliding back down next to him, letting him wrap his arms around her body. She knew in moments like these, Astarion needed reassurance, and he craved being close to her. Holding her grounded him, and made his scattered thoughts into something solid.

She kissed right above where his heart lay. “If, you’re sure.”

“I am… I just… Will you be there?” Astarion looked down at her.

The woman gave him a smile. “Nowhere I’d rather be than by your side.”

Gently, he brushed a finger against her cheekbone and leaned to kiss her, thankful he’d found someone to walk the world with, especially during the moments he feared he might break.

The day before they’d decided on meeting, Y/N ventured out to the cabin to inform the elven couple of Astarion’s decision. Once they’d seen her walking up through the window, they were out before she even managed to get to the door, faces full of hope.

“Astarion, he wants to come and see you, but there are some… conditions…”

His mother’s brow furrowed, the grimace so familiar it sent a pang through Y/N’s heart, but she swallowed it. “Whatever he needs. Whatever you both need. Anything for our little Star.”

“So… please just don’t question this, but umm… physical contact – I know I can’t possibly understand how you feel, but let him come to you first. It might not make sense, but it’s important that he is the one to make that step.”

“Of course,” Astarion's father nodded, his mother eagerly agreeing.

“And umm… he’ll be different. He might not look like the elf you remember him being. The world wasn’t kind to him for a long time… Please don’t mention this.”

Pain flashed across their faces at her words. They must have assumed something horrible had happened to him, but to have it confirmed was a different kind of agony. But as Y/N had asked – they didn’t question, simply nodded, holding onto one another a bit tighter.

“Alright.” Her heart was somewhat settled. “Thank you. We – uh- we’ll see you later tonight then.”

And with that, she left only to find Astarion pacing the inside of their hallway upon her return.

“Is it sundown already?” He snapped his neck to her as she removed her cloak, visibly upset when Y/N shook her head.

“A couple more hours, I’m afraid,” she said, taking his hand and kissing his palm, placing it against her cheek. “Please stop worrying. It will all be alright.”          

“But what if I’m making a mistake?”

She raised her brow. “Do you think you’re making a mistake?”

“N-no?” Astarion huffed. “I don’t know. I know I want to see them at least once, but what if it’s best to leave the past in the past? Why torture myself and exhume it, so to speak?”

“You can leave it all behind if that’s what you wish. But, Star, you also have the rarest of opportunities people get – a second chance.” She stepped close to him, pulling his head down by the nape of his neck so they could rest their foreheads against one another. “But you can always leave. You can always say “no.” And if someone doesn’t get that, no matter who they might be, I will gut them navel to throat.”

Astarion chuckled, brushing his nose against hers. “My knight in bloody armour, always ready to ride into battle for me.”

Y/N pecked his lips in response. “As long as I get my kisses at the end of it – without a second to spare.”

They spent the couple of hours waiting until the sun went down cleaning up around the house and then it was time to go.

As Astarion took a deep breath before closing the door, Y/N squeezed his hand. “We can turn back whenever you want to.”

But he seemed determined, only giving her a reassuring smile and twining their fingers together, her hand in his solid hold.

They walked slowly, enjoying the warm night gracing Baldur’s Gate, and soon enough they were through the city and past the woods, a small log cabin coming into view.

He stopped them a few feet away, taking in a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Y/N glanced at him encouragingly. “Are you ready, Star?”

Astarion took in a deep breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled, nodding. With this confirmation, she released his hand and ventured to the door, gently rapping her knuckles against it, immediately returning to stand beside her lover.

Instantly his palm was back into hers, as if he needed her to ground him, reassure him everything would be alright as nervous energy coursed through his veins while they waited for the inhabitants to come and see them. And though it was probably no more than ten seconds since she’d knocked, it felt like time had stood still. Once the doors opened, even nature quieted down.

The breeze shushed the tweeting birds and seemingly even the worms digging underground stopped their burrowing as finally, after two hundred years, the lost Ancunin son returned.

They stood like that for what seemed like ages, just taking one another in, before a small sob of Astarion’s name from his mother’s lips broke the spellbound silence.

It’s when he rushed for her, the elf already on her feet, meeting him halfway. Her arms wrapped tight around his body, hands smoothing down the back of his head as all the while she kept whispering “My Star, my little Star, you’re home.”

Y/N was on standby, ready to rip her away if Astarion became overwhelmed. She’d asked them to allow him to be the one to make the first step, and they had, but with such all-encompassing feelings, she just wanted him to be safe.

Though all that anxiety dissipated like ice under the blazing hear of the sun when Astarion practically melted against his mother, his fingers digging into her shoulders and back as if he never wished to be let go, both of them crumbling to their knees, still in each other’s embrace.

Tears welled along Y/N’s bottom lashes and when his father joined them, wrapping his arms around his family, they fell like rain on an autumn evening. She had to press a hand against her mouth to not sob out loud, but it didn’t seem like anyone would care, as Y/N noted Astarion’s shoulders shaking while his mother and father were freely crying, all the while touching and caressing his face, trying to ingrain the memory of having their son back in their arms.

She couldn’t imagine that feeling, didn’t ever want to, of finally being reunited with a family which you were so brutally ripped away from. Y/N almost wanted to resurrect Cazador, just so she could drive a stake through his heart again, but that might’ve been a bit too morbid of a thought in such a tender moment.

“You’re home.” His mother pulled back, cupping Astarion’s cheeks and smiling from ear to ear. “Our little Star is back home.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he choked out, but his father shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s enough for us.”

Y/N watched as he took in the people who’d searched for him relentlessly. He never knew they’d never given up. She wondered if there would be a time, he’d believe he was worth all it. She certainly hoped so.

“Thank you,” the elf with eyes like jade said, snapping her eyes towards Y/N. “You have no idea what kind of a gift you’ve bestowed upon us. We will never be able to repay you.”

She could only wave them off, a knot in her throat. “You owe me nothing. Seeing this – this is enough for me. I’ll – uh – I’ll leave you to it then.”

Just as she was about to turn around, Astarion jumped to his feet, untangling himself from the limbs of his parents, eyes full of concern. “What? Why? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in an instant, pulling her hand to rest against his chest.

“Nothing!” Y/N shook her head. “I just – I just think maybe I should take my leave. I can be back in a few hours if you’d like, but this just all seems like – like a private family reunion.”

Astarion scoffed, his free arm weaving around her waist, completely offended. “And what exactly do you think you are to me if not family, my love? Arguably, you might be the most important part of it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that -,”

“Hush now!” he scolded her. “You promised to be by my side through everything. Are you breaking that promise?”

“No, I just,” she stammered. “Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you to it? This just feels awfully personal.”

“My love, you are the keeper of my heart. You are my true home.” Astarion cupped her cheek, resting his brow against hers, chest against chest, not caring who might see. “Without you, none of this would have happened. I could still be on that beach with a mind flayer tadpole wriggling behind my eye.” He took her hand, and kissed her knuckles, sighing as they brushed against his jaw. “I don’t want to do this without you. I want to relearn who my parents are, and I want them to get to know me, but a non-negotiable part of that is you. That is if it’s alright with you?”

A tear slipped down her cheek, as she looked deep into those ruby eyes that once held nothing but fear and pain, only to now show love and compassion and happiness. When she smiled, her grin could have rivalled the sun itself. “I’d be honoured.”

When they glanced at the two elves by the threshold of the house, they noted the horrified looks on their faces. Astarion’s guard was immediately up, but his mother beat him to it.

“My Star, I am so sorry!” She put a hand over her mouth. “We swear we didn’t know you two were lovers! We just...” She glanced at her husband in desperation, but it seemed the little scene they’d put on had rendered him speechless. “Had we known, we would have never…”

Astarion squinted at her, a dangerous note appearing in his voice. “Never would have what?”

“Oh Gods, we had your partner kidnapped,” his father finally got out, eyes only widening in more shock as it settled that Y/N wasn’t just a travelling companion or a friend, but just what she really meant to Astarion.

“You did what?!” His head snapped to Y/N who now retreated to stand between the two shocked elves, and her quite furious boyfriend.

“Astarion, it’s alright,” she tried to calm him down. “They didn’t know! Besides, I heard them arguing with that mercenary. They didn’t hurt me. In fact, I,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “I held a knife to your mother’s throat. So, call it even and let’s move past it?”

His gaze was hot like the flames, as it burned into her. “We will discuss this later.” He pointed an accusatory finger at her before taking a deep breath and exhaling. “This is absolutely not how I ever imagined a family reunion to go, let alone the introduction of my partner.”

Y/N’s shoulders dropped as he broke the settled tension, but something in his eyes told her she’d pay for her omissions. And oh, how delicious that punishment would be.

His mother still seemed to be all nerves as she invited them inside, spouting apologies in Y/N’s direction, but when she took the elf's hand in hers and gave a comforting embrace, she relaxed a little. “Let’s let the bygones be bygones.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she smiled, and wrinkles of age and time appeared around her eyes.

It was awkward at first, two centuries of hurt laying between them, two centuries of torture on Astarion’s end, of lost love and people, but slowly they opened up. And when his mother mentioned how he always used to bury his nose into strawberry fields, because it reminded him of his mother’s hair care products, it was like a damn had been opened.

The memories were still there, buried under layers of pain and horrors, but there. Maybe a little jumbled up and out of sorts, but with every hour spent together, locks were being broken and a light long lost lit up again.

Astarion had changed, but so had his parents. He let them know of his adventures, how he met Y/N and how she had turned his world upside down but abstained from the more gruesome parts. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Maybe not ever, but if he so wished, she knew his parents would be there to listen and welcome his vulnerably with open arms.

An hour before the sun resumed its place in the sky, Y/N nudged Astarion, telling him it was time to leave. She had little doubt in her mind, his parents had caught onto what he was, even if they hadn’t mentioned Cazador. If not for the shape of his elongated canines, or the colour of his eyes, which Y/N had found out had been a beautiful shade of pale green, then because of the brutal scars on his neck. But they still pulled him into a hug with such vigour, it was like they feared they’d never see him again, which was probably a thought always haunting their minds.

“Would – would you like to come over to ours?” Astarion asked, still holding onto his mother’s hands. “It’s a bit of a mess, our place, but if you come after the sun’s down, I’m sure we can have it proper enough to take on guests.”

It was an odd request, but thankfully, neither his mother nor father said anything about the specific time request, simply hugged him once more and promised to be by their door the second the sun dipped, wine and lemon cakes in hand.

As they waved their goodbyes, Astarion slipped his palm into Y/N’s and made sure they walked all the way back like that. Once behind a closed door, he pulled her into his chest relishing in the way their bodies melded together – two puzzle pieces finally connecting and forming the most magnificent picture to exist.

“What is it like to be finally home?” Y/N asked as he swayed them to a tune only, he heard.

Astarion shook his head, pulling slightly back so he could cup her jaw. “My love, I have been home for a long time now. I’ve been safe and cared for, all thanks to you.” His eyes were so full of love and adoration, she almost choked on a breath. “Now… now it just feels complete. So thank you… thank you for being my home,” he muttered that little confession against her skin, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Always, my love.” Y/N didn’t hide the tears rolling down her face and he brushed them away with a soft thumb. “Always.”

When their gazes locked, all she could see was excitement for what the new day had to offer, and she knew whatever was in store, as long as they were by one another’s side, there was nothing they couldn’t overcome.

But for all that, there was an important thing she was unaware of.

As Y/N entered their living room, talking to herself and making a list of what they had to do before his parents arrived, Astarion stood and watched her, leaning against the doorframe, all the while his hands rested in his pocket, where in one of them, a beautiful ring was being twirled between his fingers.

Before they’d left, his mother had slyly pulled it off her own hand, pressing it into his palm, and whispering to him while hugging that she didn’t want to see Y/N without it the next time around.

Astarion had no intention of living his life without Y/N as his fiancé for a second longer.

When she turned around to find him on one knee, he didn’t even get to ask the question before she responded with a shout of “Yes!” and jumped on him, pulling him into a kiss he swore breathed life into his still chest.

He couldn’t wait to reintroduce Y/N to his parents as his intended.

Now all was as it should be. He was finally home. And somewhere in the garden, a rose bloomed in full.

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: This idea was inspired by that one post of a painting Astarion's parents probably had of him, but had put away somewhere just so they didn't have to look a the son they lost, so I rectified it (Link to the inspo pic :) :( Now they have a portrait of Astarion and his love right above their fire place :)

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don't plagiarise or repost on other platforms.

[rafecameroninterlude]

for latina!kook!reader can you write her being new to the island and rafe always hears people talk about the new girl and he dosent think anything of it until he actually sees her and she’s this latina goddess and rafe swears he’s never seen a more beautiful woman and he instantly knows he has to have her?please and thank you i love your fics!!💘💘

also maybe this is kind of inspired by the song “sensacion del bloque” so maybe you can base it off that song🙈

only if you want of course!! no pressure<3

warnings: stalker!rafe (lol), spanish wording but it’s translated!

a/n: i was obsessed with this song when i was little omg!! i’m so happy you love my fics anon <333

“what’s all the fuss about this new girl on the island?” rafe took a swig from his beer, drawing both topper and kelce’s attention almost immediately. “for starters, she’s like insanely pretty,” kelce started, “i don’t know her name, but she’s already running around figure eight with the socialites.” he raised his eyebrows as topper butted in. “i heard she speaks spanish,” he added, “where do you think she’s from?” topper and kelce started throwing out names of different countries while rafe started forming his own thoughts.

people moved to and from the island all the time, so while rafe didn’t think much of the whole ‘new girl’ thing, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about you that had literally everyone talking. all he knew was that you were attractive and could speak another language. he heard some guys at the country club raving about you the day before, and now his friends. was it the way you dressed? your hair? the way you walked? he needed to find out now.

“do you know where i could find her?” rafe interrupted kelce and topper mid argument. “uhm.. i don’t know? remember that house for sale right there by the shore? i think that’s the one she moved into.” topper looked confused as rafe stood up. “where are you going?” he followed him outside. “i have to see what the hype is about, man.” rafe was already in his truck before topper yelled out a ‘can i go too?!’

rafe felt like a stalker going over to your house. he wasn’t going to get off or anything.. he just parked across the street and staked the place out as if he was playing detective. apart of him felt ridiculous for doing this in the first place. here he was, waiting to just catch a glimpse of you. “what the fuck am i doing?” he cursed to himself. just as he was about to turn the engine back on, you emerged from the front door.

“te estaré esperando en el frente— i’ll be waiting for you in the front.” you chirped into your phone. rafe heard you before he saw you, the sight stealing all the breath from his lungs. you were dressed up in a tight, embellished, mini dress, your hair and makeup done to the gods while your butterfly heels sparkled under the setting sun. your beauty was otherworldly, and rafe couldn’t take his eyes off.

rafe was always the one to denounce something as ‘overhyped’ but he felt like the entire island talking about and praising you just wasn’t enough. you needed your own billboard. oblivious to the fact that you had looked up at him from your spot in the driveway, he closed his mouth as you smiled at him, your perfectly manicured fingers sending him a flirty wave. that was the cherry on top. rafe had gotten down and was about to approach you before a car full of girls drove up.

you walked down the pavement, the purse on your shoulder swaying with your hips as you looked up at him. “tal vez la próxima vez— maybe next time.” you laughed, getting in the car before he watched you disappear at the end of street.

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄

~

“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”

Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.

“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”

It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.

“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”

She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.

You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.

“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”

You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.

“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”

She seemed satisfied with that answer.

“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”

She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.

“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”

Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.

“I’m going to take these up to my room.”

“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.

After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.

You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.

Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…

You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.

Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.

Trying to do the right thing.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.

She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.

“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”

They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.

“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”

You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.

“Sarah…”

She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.

“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”

You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.

“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”

Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.

“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”

With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.

“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.

It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.

“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”

“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”

Your eyes widened.

“Sarah…”

Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.

“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”

The other girl trailed off as he spoke.

“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”

She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.

“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”

“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”

You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.

You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.

“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”

His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.

Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.

“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.

The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.

“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.

Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.

“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”

“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”

“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.

His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.

For your sake.

With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.

Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.

“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”

The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.

However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.

Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.

Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.

“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”

It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.

“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”

Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.

“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.

“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”

The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.

“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”

“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.

You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.

When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.

You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.

“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.

You hated the way it fell.

“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”

“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.

“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.

By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.

“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”

“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.

Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.

“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”

“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.

You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”

You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.

“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”

She perked up.

“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”

“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”

“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”

You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.

“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”

You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.

“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”

Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.

Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.

JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.

“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”

“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”

He frowned, glancing away.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”

“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.

JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.

“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”

You scoffed.

“Don’t try to turn this around-!”

“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”

You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.

“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”

You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.

“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.

“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”

Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.

…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.

You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.

You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.

“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”

Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.

“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.

“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”

She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.

“He always is,” she snidely replied.

At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.

“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”

Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.

“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”

She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.

“It’s probably not that simple.”

At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.

“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”

Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.

“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.

You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.

The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.

Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.

“Here, give him these.”

She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.

“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”

John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.

“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.

Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.

“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.

Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”

You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.

“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.

Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.

“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”

The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.

“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.

“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”

You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.

Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.

“That’s not an excuse-.”

“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.

He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.

“That’s different,” you argued.

JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.

“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”

You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.

“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”

You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.

“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”

“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.

When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.

“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”

You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.

“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”

You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.

“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.

JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.

“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”

Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.