#it feels. real. how it is. like snuggling up together and just dozing in the comfort of having each other

[fuxuannie]

* pairing(s) : various hsr x gender neutral reader

* prompt : drabbles abt hsr charac's and smth they like abt u?? idk im having brainrot spare me <\3.

* authors note : this was a cute idea, lowkey made me miss having a crush HAHAHA. if this does well i promy on my left toe ill do a part two (REAL).. maybe ooc, i'm just brainrotting huhu

DAN HENG was.. oddly uncomfortable but comfortable with the feeling of liking you. You two hadn't been together long, but the short amount of time had him noticing all the little quirks that you'd do, how you'd tap your pencil whenever you were stuck on a problem, the routine you had every morning and the little notes you'd leave for the trailblazers inside their rooms.

The part that made him feel a little iffy was that.. he wasn't used to being like this. He was never the type to care much about the quirks and habits of people, but considering the amount of time he spends with you (and staring at you), he can't really blame himself. He was absolutely smitten for you, so maybe those changes weren't so bad.

"You're so cute." He chuckles as he leans on his doorframe, catching you red handed as you stick the 'anonymous' sticky note on his desk. (Everyone figured it out it was you since you were the only one who wouldn't recieve one.) "Heyy, how did you catch me?" You say with a giggle, as he walked towards you and pulled you close from your waist. "The little things about you give everything away, my love."

Saying that MARCH 7TH adored you was an understatement. She absolutely LOVED being with you, all the time, everywhere. She'll be clinging onto you like a koala and if you're busy or Welt tells her to stop being so affectionate she'll pout and cross her arms. "Why can't I be with my partner?!" She'll say with an annoyed tone, "Because you have a mission, March." Welt would reply, rolling his eyes as you only chuckle in amusement.

You already knew how clingy she'd be, and infact you loved that about her, it was so sweet with how much she cared. She'll take and shoot thousands of arrows for you, to protect you and make sure you'll always be safe and happy to cuddle her before sleeping.

Speaking of which, shes in your arms, softly snoring as you two snuggle closely on her bed. You can't believe she's yours, the most pretty, bashful and caring girl in the universe. And she loved being with you the most.

BRONYA frowned as she stared at the clock in her office, 9PM. She was still forbidden to go home, and knew how lonely it must be for you. She was your lover, but could barely find time on most days to be with you. "It's okay!" She remembers you saying, but she can't help but feel guilty imagining all the times you slept alone in a shared bed.

The sound of her door creaking open caught her attention, and she watched as you peeked your head through the door and giggle. "(name)?!" She says with a shocked and confused voice, watching you open the little sling bag that you brought with you and pull out a lunchbox. "Eat. I know you haven't eaten." You demand, putting the neatly put together meal that you made for her.

Even if you had done this so many times, it still surprised Bronya every time you had these little surprise visits. "Dear.. I appreciate all of this but it'll be late if you leave now-" But a puzzled expression is plastered all over her face as she watched you make a little comfy sleeping corner with a pillow and a hood you were wearing as a blanket.

She sighs at your stubborn nature, knowing she won't change your mind. You notice her pulling up a chair and putting it next to hers, she sits down and pats her lap. "You can.. try and see if that's more comfortable." Finally, her worried gaze turned into a smile as you're eyes sparkled in delight. Before you sat down, you plant a kiss on her cheek and lay down on her lap.

"I love you, Bronya."

"I love you more, (name)."

Dating JING YUAN might be the hardest quest you've accepted, the DOZING GENERAL was on quite a handful of lists of men that parents want their daughters to marry. And hell, they've even tried throwing their daughters in his way, but he's effortlessly avoided them all. As you were the only person who had truly mattered in his heart.

He knew that his popularity can be.. suffocating. Even when he was simply courting you, he asked Tingyun to stop selling photos of him, so you'd know that he was completely serious on being a better man than he ever could be for you. But that alone can't stop the delusions of obsessed women, and Jing Yuan spent no time reassuring you that you're the only one who gets to hold his heart and say it belongs to you.

In a crowded area, his eyes never stray far from your figure that stands next to him and holds his hand. Despite the whispers, or the fawning women (and men), his eyes were locked on yours and his gaze wasn't going anywhere.

During his meetings (where he'd sometimes be dozing off..), he'd notice how you'd actually be paying attention and smiles at your adorable serious face like the most smitten man he is in the galaxy.

You can generalize it and say that Jing Yuan has made it so painfully clear to everyone that he was inlove with one person, and had no intentions of entertaning anyone else.

HERTA, despite her puppets scattered everywhere, her main body was always nervous when it came to being around you. Maybe you were used to it, always seeing her around, but she had not quite been used to human to human contact in a while. It's natural the way she tries to brush off the way she profusely blushes after your fingertips brush against her, because she's not used to spending so much time with someone as herself. She can't just pretend something isn't there anymore, because around you, she's just an absolute mess.

You watched Herta as she works on yet another puppet for the station, putting a hand on her shoulder as she jolts at the touch. "Hehe, no need to be startled. It's just me." You tell her, but she pouts a little in response. "I am an utterly perfect being. Little things such as that do not invoke fear in me."

Humming as a response, she finds it hard to find any interest in her work now. Why would she? You're right next to her, and you were far more interesting and pretty than any of the other things she's created.

She leans on you and you look down at her, "Hm? Have you lost interest in it already?" You ask, already familiar with her habit of losing motivation in a task when uninterested. She looks up at you and smiles a little. "How could I not when you're here? I might even say, you're the most interesting thing in my entire life."

GEPARD was a man who thought that loyalty was to be earned, not given freely. So when he had met you, his heart knew that no one was as deserving of his loyalty than you. You were apart of the Silvermane guards, and so naturally he was your leader. On the first day, you were very kind to not only Gepard, but your fellow guards as well. Many believed you were the kindness that the Silvermane guards deserved but never recieved, and he couldn't help but agree.

When you two began dating, he never noticed how much softer he had gotten. The way his gaze lingered on you when you left the room, the gentle kisses he'd plant on your cheek, and the way he enjoyed making you flustered. Those things were actions that the Captain didn't know he could enjoy, until you had come into his life, and practically changed the trajectory of it.

You were rambling on about something, and as usual Gepard sat next to you and listened. Smiling a bit at your excitement of whatever you were so passionate about, eventually his gaze went from your eyes, to your lips and at that realization he nervously looked away and stared at his shoes as if the most interesting thing in the world.

"Gepard? Are you alright?" You noticed how he he had looked away, and he was silent for a few moments before swiftly planting a kiss on your lips, something unexpected considering you were both in a public space. When he pulled away, a clear blush decorated his cheeks in such a color that made him look so pretty. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself."

SAMPO adores messing with you, little teases to get you riled up. (but never taking it too far.) How could he not? When you have such a pretty expression when you were getting teased. But other than that, he was surprisingly domestic. He liked cooking for and with you, washing clothes, eating together in the morning and generally just liked doing house work with you.

You'd wake up to breakfast in bed more often than not, and a smiling Sampo waiting for you to wake up in the side opposite to you. "Good morning, sleepy head." or "Good morning, sleeping beauty." on other days, he was such a sweet man to you, to a point you were unsure of what you did to deserve him.

And he knew you thought of that, so every night he'd whisper all the little things he grew to love about you. His own little way to let you sleep without a heavy heart.

You were the child of a swordsmith, YANQING adored swords. Need I say more? You two loved to go on and on about different swords, how they're made, how they're used and the history. Yanqing loved to talk about this with you, as many people thought he was almost crazy for his love for it, but you never judged him. That little thought alone made his heart flutter and eyes sparkle in adoration.

You let him be the little excited nerd he was whenever you invited him to your job, admiring the photos of different swords you helped make on the walls and if he was good, you'd make him a new one to take home.

"I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!" He'd gush, admiring the newly forged blade in his hands as you chuckle a bit at his excitement. "Your welcome, love."

[fbfh]

miss missing you was fucking adORABLE please i love domestic percy. our boy getting a break from all the monsters

LITERALLY. percy deserves a rest, a break, and that's exactly what you intend to give him. it doesn't matter if he crashes at your place or you crash at his or you go up to montauk or somewhere completely different. the point is, you're good. you're safe. the only problem now is making sure PERCY knows that. he's great, just like he always is. but you've still caught him doing peremiter sweeps and middle of the night centry duty. he jumps at every noise, every rustling leaf or cracking branch. and you understand why. of course you do. you know it's going to take a long time to help him relax, really relax, but it's always worth it to you. you and Sally and Percy and Paul will be wondering for years to come how you managed to work your magic so quickly, but by the end of the week, Percy feels... relaxed. possibly for the first time ever. he spends his mornings with you, making coffee and pancakes and pretending not to notice as you check out his back and waist. you wear his swim team hoodie because it always looks so much better on you, and he steals kisses every chance he gets. you manage to surprise him with blue coffee one day and he is so completly flabberghasted. he still has no clue how you did it. you doze on the couch or out on the porch in the afternoons, comfortable in each others arms. he can't sleep until you're comfortable snuggled up against him, and every night he can't help but let out a breathy chuckle, smiling in pure admiration of you. one night he lets out a loud groaning sigh as you settle in for the night. he doesn't think he can ever go back to a life that doesn't have you to wake up to, and he doesn't want to.

"when we get back to new york, we're moving in together."

that wakes you right up. you twist around so you can look at him, make sure he's being for real with you right now.

"seriously?" you ask, and he laughs at how cute you are. it's... adorable, frankly, that you're still realizing how deep and dogmatically his feelings for you run.

"yeah," he nods back. he sleeps better than he ever has that night. after some more kisses, of course.

[tightjeansjavi]

snooze

A/N: this is all @corazondebeskar fault 🥺

~Word Count: 717~

Summary: Joel loves to nap

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: none, domestic fluff, soft!joel, peepaw!joel and a sprinkle of angst, readers nickname is honeypie and lady, reader has no physical descriptions (given the content of my blog, all fics are +18 minors dni!)

The last thing Joel Miller ever expected after the outbreak was finding himself in a domestic situation where he had the luxury of fucking napping.

He loved to nap.

Sometimes he’d fall asleep in the porch chair out on the back deck with the sun warming his face. He’d set his guitar down to the side, cross his arms over his chest and mumble about how he’s just gonna rest his eyes for a few minutes.

When you come outside to check on him, he’s snoozing, soft snores slipping past his plush lips. Face relaxed, and the once permanent furrow of his brows is no longer present.

Sometimes after dinner he’d situate himself on the couch with you and Ellie on either side of him while he lets Ellie pick out a movie to watch. He’ll argue that he won’t fall asleep..this time. But between the blanket draped over his legs, and Ellie curled up with her head in his lap, he’s dozing off with his head resting on your shoulder.

His favorite time to nap is arguably right after lunch. Specifically Sunday’s because it’s the one day out of the week where he’s not on patrol, and he gets to spend his whole day with you.

The sunroom is a new addition that he and Tommy built together. There’s a built-in bookshelf along the wall that is brimming with all different genres of books. There’s even some house plants. The main star of the room is the cozy chaise lounge. It’s a bit faded, and has seen better days, but he loves it.

His eyes are already droopy when you move to get up from the spot you were sitting on. He loved it when you would read to him, and today’s book was Wuthering Heights.

“Where you goin’,honeypie?” He rasps, peeking one eye open to look over at you.

You place your hand over his covered knee, squeezing it gently before you lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, and then his lips. “Laundry is probably done by now. I’ll be right back, okay?” You brush away a few strands of his soft curls. He’s been growing his hair out lately, and the grays in his beard are more prominent. You’ve never stopped loving this man, and he’s never stopped loving you.

“Hurry back, please. Miss you already.” He murmurs, lips curving into a lazy grin.

He’s a sap. A real softy now that he has no reason to fear. You and Ellie, and this town have turned a lion into a house cat.

“You’re a real softy, Joel Miller.” You whisper and brush away a few stray breadcrumbs from his patchy beard.

“Mhm. ‘S’cus’ of you, lady.” He teases gently.

You peck his lips once more, lulling him to close his eyes. Rest, Joel. You have all the time in the world to sleep. To love. To relax. To live. All the time, my love.

His lashes flutter as he sinks further into the couch, awaiting your return so he can snuggle with you once more.

Taking care of the laundry and tidying up the kitchen takes all of 10 minutes for you to complete. You find yourself thinking about the days when 10 minutes could either mean life or death. 10 minutes used to feel like 10 seconds. To run. To hide. To fight. 10 minutes now felt like 10 hours. 10 years.

You and Joel fought hard for this life of peace and not a day goes by where you don’t feel grateful for it all.

When you return to the sunroom, one of his legs is sticking out from under the quilted blanket, and he’s sprawled out entirely. His skin holds a warm glow from the trickling sunlight coming in through the windows.

He senses your presence even in his light slumber, and his arms subconsciously reach for you.

I’m here. You reassure him as his eyes open, droopy with sleep. He looks scruffy and soft at the same time. A big ole teddy bear; all yours.

Missed you. He murmurs softly as his arms wrap around your middle, pulling you back against his strong chest.

Missed you too, Joel. You melt into his warm embrace. Heartbeats steady, calm and at peace.

Two house cats basking in the sunlight, bellies full, and hearts warm.

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

[shaynawrites23]

Compliment

Remus Lupin x reader

Word count: 583

A/N: don't worry, the requests are coming too! just enjoy this in the meantime!

It was just a simple compliment.

You're wrapped in your boyfriend's arms, comfy and half dozing off as Remus tells you, at your own request, all about the latest book he's read. There's a blanket partially draped over the both of you, an incredibly soft, fluffy one he brought with him when you moved in together, and you're content. Happy.

At some point, Remus stops talking, having told you everything he could possibly think to say on the subject, and you fall into a comfortable silence. His warm hand runs gently up and down your arm, his lips press a soft kiss to your forehead, and as you snuggle just the tiniest bit closer to him, you feel him murmur the words before you hear them.

"You're so fuckin' pretty, my darlin'. Merlin, I love you so much."

It's just a simple compliment. An utterance of love. You know how he sees you, you know he makes sure to tell you how much you mean to him at least once a day, so why does this moment, why do these words affect you so much more?

It's just a simple compliment. Remus is understandably concerned at the hitch in your breath, the way you tense slightly in his hold, and the emotions swimming in your eyes when he tilts your chin up to catch your gaze. You hate how your heart skips a beat at his featherlight touch on your skin, how your mind whispers to you that this isn't real, that you're undeserving, that you could never be enough.

"Hey, dove, what's wrong?"

The first response he gets is no more than a shrug and a small sniffle. And then you speak in what may just be the tiniest voice he's ever heard.

"Don't know. You just... sounded like you really meant it." And I can't imagine why, is the part you don't say out loud.

Remus knows all too well what it's like to feel undeserving of love. Hell, he's had this reaction to you many a time, spent months even trying to chase you away, convince you he was no good for you, that you could do better. And the idea you might feel the same way about yourself all but breaks his heart.

"Oh, sweetheart. 'Course I meant it." He pulls you close again, into his warm embrace which is still the safest place you know, especially with the way one of his hands cradles the back of your head. "Of course I meant it. I always do, darlin'. Did I ever give you a reason to doubt it?"

"No," you sigh with a small shake of your head, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt because above all, you still crave the comfort and intimacy only his touch can bring, and you both know you're telling the truth. "No, you didn't do anything. You're wonderful, it's just... hard to really believe sometimes."

Remus knows exactly how that feels. All he does is pull you in closer, hold you tighter to his body, as if he can shield you from those cruel thoughts and feelings.

" 's okay," he murmurs, a soft whisper into your hairline. "Try to believe it, dove, because I'm here to stay. And I'll prove it to you, over and over. Enough times until your mind and your heart realize nothing can take me from you."

And prove it, he did.

[s1m0nth3swag]

Francis got tired from his shift and cuddles with m!reader and kinda just baby talks Francis!! (Francis definitely snores)

Sleepy Francis and Male Reader, sign me the fuck up!!

Francis 100% is the type of guy to just flop down on his partner, demand cuddles and headscratches and the proceed to fall asleep (bonus points if his partner isn't strong enough to lift him up so they just have to resign to fate.) also please excuse that I have no clue how to properly write baby talk and probably fucked that up lol

Thanks so much for the request, Anon!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Fluff, Francis being tired and stupid, established relationship, Male Reader, just cuddles and love with our favourite Milkman <3, kinda short (sorry)

Francis was tired. Normally, this was a constant state of tiredness, something he could deal with. Coffee got him though the day, and as soon as he got home he'd eat something, drag his boyfriend to bed and make sure both of them got a healthy amount of sleep - though Francis could never escape his chronic tiredness. He was pretty sure that it was a curse by now. It wasn't like you, or him, really cared anyway. The cuddles were good, and neither of you missed out on any love even though your quality time was lounging on the couch or in bed. Besides, both of you were more on the lazy side anyway. Today, Francis was more tired than usual, though. Not even coffee had helped him keep his eyes open, and he had nearly dozed off at work. He grumbled about it the whole day, especially after his Boss had given him that stern look. He just wanted to get home and sleep. There wasn't even a real reason for him to be this tired. He surely hadn't stayed awake with you too long last night, and he had definetly slept like a baby while cuddled up in your arms. It really was a mystery to him. Maybe whatever God existed had decided to piss Francis off today. He didn't even call out for you once he head reached the shared apartment, simply took off his shoes and then continued to walk over to the couch - where you had already decided to place yourself to watch some TV after work - motioned for you to lay down and almost fell on top of you. "Hi Baby." You hummed, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, one opf your hands coming up to run through his hair while the other rested at the small of his back. Francis sighed as an answer, his arms wrapped around your waist as he snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, basking in your warmth and comfort. "Tired?" You chuckled, and he nodded. "You jus' wanna cuddle?" You add, snuggling your face into his hair slightly. "Yes please.." He answers, his voice muffled by your neck. The two of you lay like that for a while, Francis barely talking while you softly hum about your day, giving him short phrases paired with a soft voice for him to understand easier. You were already used to this, having to use simple speech, almost baby talk, with your boyfriend whenever he came home tired like this. Though he wasn't like this often, mostly keeping a certain amount of awakeness throughout the day, you didn't mind one bit. You thought it was kinda cute, actually. Francis resting on you like you were his pillow, his weight comfortably pressing you down against the couch.. this was probably your personal heaven. "Love you." Francis mumbles, sighing deeply as you can't help but grin at the sweetness of this situation. You don't even care when he slides off to sleep, his soft snores filling the room as you chuckle to yourself and move your arm slightly to grab the TV remote and turn the device off, wanting to make sure he wouldn't wake up because of any loud noises. You feel him snuggle against you further and you grin, pressing a soft kiss against the top of his head as you swiftly lay the remote down again, your arm resting around Francis again, slowly drifting off to sleep together with him.

[fourmula1]

Hi! Hope you’re well. Just wondering how Daniel is doing with his harem of alphas.

winter warmers day 10: holiday travel

alpha harem universe. 1019 words.

-

There are jet-lagged alphas everywhere.

Dozing on a pool deck lounger, sprawled across the living room couch, in a guest room.

Two snuggled on the porch swing.

Daniel couldn’t be happier.

All his boys with him on the farm for Christmas. Though he’d brought Lewis and Max here before this was the first time all five where here at the same time and it made Daniel so at peace inside to have all his boys in the same place, his home, with him.

He’s adjusted to the crazy time change quickly – years of conditioning make it easier for him – and he’s content to check in on everyone and see what they need.

Daniel plops himself in the lap of Pierre on the pool deck, grinning in the ‘oomph’ elicited when he drops his weight down. Pierre is looking big and tasty out here in the Australian summer sun, shirtless and muscly and broad and huge and Daniel thinks a bit about how good it feels to have such a physically strong alpha run his hands over Daniel’s thighs like this. Hot.

When he’s done out there he makes his way back through the house to the opposite deck – the front porch – where Alex and George are snuggled up on the big porch swing together, dozing and looking so fucking cute it makes Daniel’s heart clench. As much love as he knows the three of them have for each other, he knows what’s between the two of them is special. Unusual. Even frowned upon in society. But they make each other happy, and Daniel is happy to have them. He ruffles hair and thinks about wiggling his way in between the two of them – being spooned from both directions by pretty alphas sounds great right now – but decides not to interrupt.

He heads upstairs to find Lewis in bed, awake and on his phone and looking effortlessly beautiful, like 30 hours of travel did nothing to him. Daniel climbs into bed next to him and snuggles up under Lewis’ arm. Their relationship has changed the most over the near decade they’ve been doing this. Daniel loves Lewis for being his first alpha; for being the one he could always count on, the one who understood him the most. The level of respect they had for each other was most important to Daniel. Their relationship was never really that romantic, but Lewis was a calm, smart, respectful alpha who Daniel felt safe with all those years ago and it had worked out well for both of them. Daniel always knew Lewis would eventually settle with an omega of his own – likely the one he’d been traveling to see outside of race weeks, judging by how happy Lewis always was when he returned. For now, he was happy to soak up the calm peace that being around Lewis brought him. He knew this was probably the last Christmas they’d truly spend together, and Daniel was okay to let Lewis go when he was ready. He’d love Lewis forever, for so many reasons, and he’d be happy for Lewis to find real love.

When he’d had his fill of the warmth and safety of Lewis he crawled back out of the bed to go back downstairs and find Max. Beautiful, sweet Max, suffering on the couch. Jetlag was brutal at the best of times and Max – for as tired and out of sorts he was – still looked so beautiful. Daniel leaned down for a kiss, forced Max to scoot back a bit so he could sit on the edge of the couch and look down at him, run his hand through Max’s hair and lean in again for another kiss.

It brought Daniel so much deep omega satisfaction to have his alphas here at his home nest, safely tucked within these walls, all together with him for the first time ever. It’d be a perfect Christmas – the first and last of it’s kind – and he was going to savour it.

Daniel knew Lewis would always be there for him on a deeply emotional level, but he also knew he was about to lose the intimate part of their relationship. However okay with it he was, it would be different now.

He knew Pierre and he had an electric sexual energy, a hot connection, and their arrangement worked well for both of them. An alpha and an omega taking care of each other’s needs, having hot sex, and enjoying themselves. Pierre, too, would leave when he found the right omega. Daniel suspected that person was just a short flight away and it occurred to him that perhaps he should encourage Pierre to go for it – surprise Yuki in Tokyo for Christmas break. Everyone could see what was going to happen, there.

Daniel supposed that Alex and George would be his, if not forever, for a very long time. Two alphas, whose love was palpable, but who could not satisfy that yearning for an omega, for each other. Daniel was happy to be that person for them. With them. To witness the uniqueness of their relationship, to watch the two of them grow and love and forge this rather unheard of path… it was special and he was glad to be a part of it.

And Max.

Max.

Max.

Daniel had love for all of his boys.

Daniel had never loved like he loved Max.

All consuming, deeply pulling at every omega bit of him to entangle himself with this alpha forever and all time.

He smiles a bit as Max looks up at him – sleepy blue eyes and tussled bedhead – and thinks about how he’d never wanted an alpha to claim him like he does with Max. He’d loved his arrangement – his band of alpha lovers – and he didn’t want to lose that. But there was a piece of him, deep down, that knew Max was it. The alpha for him. One day, Max would bite him.

Today, though, Daniel moves to snuggle up on the couch with Max instead, closes his eyes as Max’s arm curls around his shoulders, and goes to sleep.

[montrealmadison]

congrats on hitting 400 followers and thank you for including us in the celebration! um ... I'm choosing zimbits and number 42 and as for general special requests, I would never say no to some hurt/comfort? (I think you have a good sense of the vibes I gravitate toward but you always do that particular trope so well.)

-doggernaut

my darling, i love writing hurt/comfort for you and you really could not have picked a better song. anything for you beyoncé!!

42. zimbits + hurt/comfort + All Night by Beyoncé for @doggernaut

I found the truth beneath your lies And true love never has to hide I’ll trade your broken wings for mine I’ve seen your scars and kissed your crime

Half-awake, the first thing out of Bitty’s mouth is, “We have gotta stop meeting like this.”

Jack’s answering laugh is wrong, comes from too high up. There’s light pouring in through the windows when Bitty blinks—weird, he could have sworn he closed the blinds last night—and when he rolls over, expecting to meet Jack’s face on the opposite pillow, he finds his hip instead.

Bitty’s head hurts, which could really be from anything: lack of sleep, unshed tears, the anticipation of a hangover. “Honey?”

Jack looks down and down at him. From this angle he’s a giant, all sharpness, features starkly out of sync with the glorious summer sunrise. “Morning.”

“Mmph.” The sheets are warm on Bitty’s bare back as he rolls over, yawning. “How long you been awake?”

The fact that Jack doesn't say anything is what finally shocks Bitty back to life.

read more below or on ao3 | request a fic here

This summer has mostly been a dream, because not only does Bitty love living with Jack, he also loves that they're good at it. It's addictive to know that they're compatible this way too, makes the thought of the two of them as partners feel settled and real. He likes the way they work together in the kitchen. He likes the way Jack’s voice carries when he sings in the shower; likes knowing that Jack sings in the shower, period, Patsy Cline and Bob Dylan and once, memorably, Carrie Underwood. He likes snuggling up to watch a movie on the couch and dozing off with Jack’s hands in his hair. Most of all, he likes sharing their bed—sleeps so much better with Jack’s big, warm body beside his. 

There are trade-offs to that, like the fact that he hasn’t spoken to his parents in two weeks. And the fact that he was barely able to enjoy their bed last night because he was pacing the living room rather than disturbing Jack's attempts at meaningful rest. And the fact that Jack is currently watching himself miss the same shot over and over and over again, breathing just this side of too heavy for Bitty’s liking.

It’s five-thirty in the morning on a day that might make or break them, and Bitty’s had enough.

"Jack," he says, some heft in it now. "How long?"

Jack scrubs his hands over his face, glances out the windows and then at the time on his phone. He’s obviously a little surprised to see the sun rising. “Since you went to bed.”

Bitty had finally crawled under the covers to a half-awake and very worried Jack at 2:15. The fact that he'd apparently slept right through Jack's ensuing three-hour self-flagellation session doesn't sit right in his chest at all.

“Okay—uh, okay." He frees a hand from the blankets with exaggerated care and sets it lightly on the top of Jack’s screen. "Well, first things first, sweetpea, this isn’t useful, it’s torture," he says. "Can I?”

He's expecting pushback, but apparently that's all he had to say to break the dam and make the tension drain from Jack’s shoulders. He nods, slow and unwilling. None of that, Bitty thinks. He shuts the laptop firmly, gets up on his elbow, ducks under Jack’s arm to nudge him softly in the ribs.

“Why don't you come down here,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “You’re real tall up there.”

Jack’s answering laugh sounds brittle, but he does curl down into Bitty's arms. Add that to the ever-growing list of things Bitty's been surprised by: Jack Zimmermann is the little spoon. Bitty pulls him in, watches the sun start to track above the buildings, and thinks about things that are unfair.

The road to hell is paved with a solid game plan. From the minute the Falcs made the conference finals, Jack has been in regular touch with George and the med staff. He's been seeing his therapist weekly. He's been talking to Bitty and his parents, and when they've lost he's been sad, but he hasn't withdrawn the way Bitty might have expected him to.

They've gone through so much together, all of it leading them here. They've negotiated sex and coming out to their friends and fought about who gets to pay for things. There's trust between them in a way that Bitty has never felt before. He'd felt so adult, keeping a secret as big as Jack Zimmermann to himself all school year; now Bitty has a much better sense of the commitment he signed up for. He's had to learn how to talk through a panic attack and which secrets are okay to keep and, most of all, what real love is: all-consuming, disgusting and vulnerable, terrifying in its intensity, and always, always worth it.

“We’re so close,” says Jack unprompted, muffled because he’s speaking into Bitty's collarbone. “I—Bits. We’re so close."

“You are."

It sounds so simple, but Bitty knows it’s not—knows how much is riding on this game, for Jack and for the Falcs and for so many others. He wants to be able to swallow Jack whole, to carve out a warm place inside him and keep Jack safe in it forever. It would be easier than trying to come up with the right thing to say to make this better.

"What if this is it?"

Jack's voice is tiny and terrified. Bitty feels like someone's reached into his chest and cracked his heart open with both hands.

"Say more," he prompts gently. "The end of the series?"

"The—just." Jack breathes out hard. "This is it. If we lose, it's all over. Everyone was right about me. Right?"

Oh, honey. "Jack," Bitty says. "No."

He can't say he doesn't understand the temptation to think that way. Tonight is everything Jack's been working towards for twenty-five years. Tonight's results will be writ large over Jack's entire career. But—

"Tell me if I'm hearing this right?"

Jack squeezes him tighter. "Okay."

"It's going to be the end of something, one way or another." Bitty threads his hands through Jack’s hair and gently works the tangles out of it, the way Jack’s done for him so many times. "And I know that's scary. But it's not the end." 

There's going to be another game, ten games, eighty-two. The people who love Jack, love them both, aren't going anywhere. Once, Bitty believed that the force of his own will had to be enough to convince Jack of its righteousness. Now—well, Jack breathes, pushes up hungrily into Bitty's hands, and Bitty knows that sometimes love means a blind leap into someone else's hands, trusting them to be there when you fall.

"Is that what feels bad right now? That they're gonna—take it all away from you, if tonight doesn't go well?"

Another long breath. Jack's voice is low, low. "Doesn't make as much sense when you say it out loud."

"Well." Bitty shrugs. "That's anxiety, baby."

Jack grunts. "Sucks."

"Yeah," Bitty says, and suddenly they're laughing, all shaken up and nowhere to go. The tension's broken, though, and the line of Jack's shoulders doesn't feel as hard under Bitty's hands, so he allows himself to feel very tentatively pleased.

“No matter what,” he starts to say, and Jack stills again, listening. “No matter what, we are going to be there for you. Your team and your parents and all our friends and me, baby. We’re not going anywhere no matter what happens tonight.”

Bitty's not sure if he's satisfied with that, but Jack murmurs something that sounds like thanks, so. He'll take it for now. 

When the sun has risen too far for them to ignore, Bitty coaxes Jack into the shower and spends a good twenty minutes puttering around the kitchen, meticulously assembling the best pregame PB&J ever concocted by man. It grounds him a little, helps him sink back into his body; things here are still real, are familiar in a way that means something. When Jack emerges from the bedroom around ten, suited up with a game face to match, Bitty's smile takes less effort than before.

“Hey, handsome.” He steps away from the counter and into the warm, willing circle of Jack’s arms. It's glorious when Jack smells expensive like this, new linen and Armani cologne, and Bitty breathes him in appreciatively.

“Hi,” Jack says, quiet but not as brittle as before. “What do you think? You like it?”

“The day I answer no to that question is the day I am dead in the ground.” Bitty twirls the end of Jack’s tie around one finger. “How you feelin’?”

Jack’s breath ruffles Bitty’s hair when he leans down to tuck his nose into it. “Still scared,” he says. “But, uh, good, I think. I don't know. Better than this morning? Thanks for getting me out of my head.”

For the first time, Bitty lets himself imagine what tonight might bring. The fridge is stocked with enough ingredients for at least twelve mourning pies and enough pasta to feed a small army of sad friends; coming home to that is a definite possibility, the only one Bitty has really let himself focus on. But there's a sparkling alternative, dripping in champagne and smothered in laughter, that Bitty knows for a fact Ransom has already made the playlist for. There's a world in which this all goes right. They just have to be brave enough to make it there.

“Things can be scary and good at the same time,” Bitty says into the perfect knot of Jack's tie.

He feels Jack smile; a tiny, hopeful thing. “You’re telling me.”

[writinginthesecrettrees]

Currently thinking about Sam getting turned into a woman, and it really doesn't matter how...

Because I'm thinking about Sam waking up tangled in the sheets with Dean as always, and he can tell something is different but he's in that fuzzy place where he can wake up slowly and all he wants to do is snuggle in closer to Dean and doze for a bit longer. He's just drifting off to sleep when Dean grunts. Stirs. Tightens his arm around Sam, pulling Sam closer and that always makes Sam smile.

Then Dean jerks upright, fully awake, and he's staring at Sam and Sam is shaking the sleep out of his head as he says "what?" and his voice doesn't sound right.

There's worry and upset and frantic research and even more frantic calls to Rowena, to Max Banes, to Castiel and anyone they can think of, but soon enough they conclude that it's harmless and temporary and Sam just needs to ride it out for a day or so.

It really doesn't matter; what matters is this:

The worry is gone, the fear is gone, and Dean has time to look at Sammy in his new ladyform. Same eyes, same nose, same hair and height but his already pretty face has a new delicate cast to the features. His slender muscles translate well to femininity, with some extra softness from his new curves.

Ample curves, because Sammy is stacked. It makes sense; he's always had heaving bosoms so it makes sense that ladySammy has tits that make Sam's shirts strain and Dean's mouth water. And reignite an old fantasy, one he hasn't even thought of since he started fucking his brother because damn Sam is everything he wants and needs...

But this is a chance to try something new with Sam...

"Whatever you're thinking, stop."

"Aw, c'mon..."

"No!" Sam looks at him, then looks away. "It's just for a day or so, you can go a couple days without sex."

"But Sammy..."

"Dean, I... look, it's just too weird, okay? I know it's just me, it's still me and you and us, but." Sam sighs. "But it's not my body. It's got the wrong parts and the thought of you touching me in this body is... I mean, I know you like pussy and all, and I know that it's mine but it doesn't feel like mine. It feels wrong!!! I can barely handle peeing right now, I can't... I don't want you to touch it. It makes me sick." Sam looks up at him, somehow always manages to look up even though he's been the taller for half their lives now. "D'you get it?"

And he does. So... "Yeah, I get it. But, Sammy... what if I don't want to touch your pussy?"

"I don't understand."

"I mean, yeah. Pussy's great and all, but your ass is better," he smirks at the way Sam's ears turn red, "and I really wasn't thinking about your pussy. Although if you change your mind and wanna get eaten out I'm down. But I was thinking of something else."

"Something else."

"Uh-huh. Something new. Something I've never done, and since you've never been a real lady before I'm pretty sure you haven't either..."

"... so what were you thinking of?"

Dean leans in close, so close his lips brush against Sam's as he says, "I wanna fuck your tits."

---

Currently thinking of Sam, flat on his back looking down towards his chest and he's using both hands to push his tits together. Dean's dick slides through his cleavage, slick with lube and precum and it's weird but hot and close enough he can lick the tip as Dean thrusts against him. And when Dean's hands join his, holding his tits, massaging the soft flesh and teasing at his nipples he feels a jolt of pleasure in his clit and a surge of wetness in his pussy and he thinks maybe, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let Dean eat him out.

[abiiors]

Baking

Day 3 of (write) anything that you want to! week and this is, admittedly, my favourite of the bunch. Series Masterlist

Wednesday: dad!matty

‘Are you uncomfortable?’ his sleepy, muffled voice slices through the silent room. 

You stop your twisting and turning to moodily sigh at him. ‘No, I’m fine.’

The sheets rustle a little as he turns to look at you, rests his hand on your round belly in the dim moonlight. ‘Come on, what up?’

You debate telling him the real reason but then you don’t want to wake him up after a tiring day. On the other hand, the situation really is dire plus he’s not going to let this go. 

‘I want cookies,’ you mumble in a small, barely audible voice. His face goes blank for a second like he’s not registered a single word. So you snuggle up to him and repeat yourself louder. ‘Cookies, I can’t stop thinking about them.’

A blink is his only response before he picks up his phone and squints his eyes at the time. 

‘My darling, it’s 1 am.’

‘I know!’ you whine, ‘but, she wants it!’

Matty props his head up on his arm and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. ‘She wants it or you want it?’

‘Both of us want it,’ you pout.

So then he has no choice really. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes (or at least trying to) he gets out of bed. 

‘Come on then,’ he holds out his hand, ‘let's go bake some cookies.’

A sleepy smile makes its way onto his lips when your whole face brightens and you immediately jump out of bed. You launch yourself at him mumbling thank yous and peppering his face with kisses. At four months pregnant, and finally over the all-day nausea phase, the cravings have hit full force. And he has made it his mission to get you anything you desire; cookies at 1 am included. 

You have to stifle some giggles when he sleepily bumps into corners and walls; when he takes out salt instead of sugar; when he completely blanks out on where the flour is kept but ultimately he assembles everything on the counter. 

Watching Matty, shirtless and plaid pyjamas resting low on his hips, is definitely a sight to behold. His curls fall in his eyes and his arms flex in tandem as he mixes the batter together. He carefully measures each ingredient and puts the utmost care into everything. Your eyes remain transfixed on his back whenever he turns around and you make a mental note to thank him very thoroughly after the cookies are made.

‘You’re staring, love,’ he points out without looking up from the batter and you feel a small blush rising. 

‘Can I not stare at my husband?’ 

‘Mmm, I can read your dirty thoughts,’ he tuts, ‘all in front of the baby too!’ His tone is teasing as he softly rubs your belly. 

‘And how did that baby get made in the first place?’ 

He shakes his head in mock exasperation but you don’t miss the way his face splits into a smile. All of that however is immediately forgotten as soon as he grabs the bag of chocolate chips. 

‘Right,’ he says, holding the bag out, ‘I’ll let you add them.’ Then a softer, ‘don’t wanna get accused of cheating you out of them.’

You huff and then without another thought empty the whole bag in. Matty raises an eyebrow, opens his mouth about to say something but one look from you and he knows it’s best to just keep his thoughts to himself. 

It takes him another couple of seconds to mix them in nicely while the oven preheats. The batter looks good, actually, it looks heavenly! And now your whole kitchen smells like cookies. You immediately go to dip a finger in the batter, already dreaming of how good it’s going to taste. But he’s quicker. 

‘Absolutely not,’ he chastises, slapping your hand away with the spatula, ‘no raw eggs, love. You know that.’

And you do know that. But being around the smell of chocolate and vanilla and cinnamon has intensified the cravings tenfold. So you spend the next fifteen minutes pacing around the kitchen restlessly, waiting for the cookies to finish baking. Meanwhile, Matty dozes off at the table. 

His arm slips from under his head and he just about hits his head on the table when the timer goes off. You, on the other hand, let out a small whoop of joy. 

‘Stop!’ he shakes his head in exasperation as he watched you make a beeline to the oven. ‘They’re boiling, love. Give them a minute.’

Irritation flares through your body. They are so close, so tantalisingly close and yet he’s right! And it’s even more annoying that he’s right. Matty makes the wise decision to bite his lip as he watches you bounce on the balls of your feet in anticipation. 

‘A minute is done, right? Come on!’

‘So impatient,’ he sighs and goes to finally, finally take the cookies out. 

He touches one tentatively, breaks it in half and watches the steam rise and blows softly on it. Only when he’s satisfied that you won’t burn the roof of your mouth does he extend it to you. 

The angels sing a chorus, the kitchen is bathed in a golden glow and the cookie melts in your mouth just as you melt in his arms. Because this. Is a religious experience. 

‘Oh my god, I love you so much,’ you sigh blissfully, already on your second cookie. 

Matty opens his mouth and then shakes his head with a chuckle. 

‘I would say I love you too but I doubt it was for me.’

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 347: A Sunday at Melissa's, p5

We were there in my bedroom for - how long? An hour, more? Bonding, dry nursing, gazing into one another’s eyes with him all bundled up on my lap. Time went so quick when we were together! All I know is that I’d heard my mom’s weird clock chime at one point; otherwise I didn’t pay too much attention to time...we had alllll Sunday, just the two of us. It was rainy outside so there was nothing better to do today than snuggle snuggle snuggle together. Bond bond bond him to me. He certainly seemed to be liking it so far! All cuddled up into me like a bug in a rug, he’d finally calmed down and seemed at peace after his almost-dying in the pool earlier. My nipple in his mouth helped I think haha. He was getting so good at this, dry-nursing, relaxing, zoning out into my breast, and I was getting the hang of exactly what parmo…phairm…perfumes to use, which ones to release out of my nipple and breast to keep him relaxed and happy and focused on me while he did this. It was like I could watch and feel his brain cells responding to me, lining up for me, changing and starting to behave like good little boys for me. Meanwhile he just sort of nuzzled and cooed and suckled and when it all became too intense for him I’d let him rut his little hips into me, through the towel I’d swaddled him in. He’d come against the weight of the underside of my breast, or against my hand and it felt so nice, tingly. I could feel the bliss shivers in the girls, too; they’d all gone home but I’m sure they appreciated this haha. Maybe he did that twice, maybe three times, and dozed in and out a bit after, once woken by more chimes. My insides would get all gooey, just watching him wake up next to my nipple and immediately go back to sucking. 

Aren’t you the lucky little man? Being with the hot, big-boobie mommy giantess wifey you’ve always wanted? Because that’s what I’m turning into for you, aren’t I?

I swear I could have sat there with him like this forever. Eventually, though, I’d heard his little tummy start to rumble and as much as we were enjoying ourselves, I’d figured I should pull him off and get him to eat for real. I wanted to dress him up cute in some of the comfy stuff I’d picked up for him on my shopping trip with Shanette yesterday, a new pair of gray sweatpants and a matching top. But the new little underpants I bought him didn’t fit around his, um, penis. He seemed to be getting smaller everywhere but there! Maybe if I wasn’t in the room, and it wasn’t quite so hard all the time, he’d have an easier go at it. But in the meantime…

“Ohh honey with you all excited like that, you just don’t fit in the cute little underwear I bought you. You’re such a big boy down here! Come here and let me help you put on your pants,” I giggled. We’d stood, and he was standing there all naked. “I don't want you to hurt yourself trying to stuff it inside." With that I pushed him back onto the bed in front of me. He looked so surprised when I lifted his little toosh so I could get the sweatpants up and over his thighs and his hips and his nngh hard I want to do that again but it’ll have to wait. Breakfast first!  "You’ll just have to go without underpants until we come up with something else.”

The look on his face was too much when I gave him a little slap on his bottom.

Omigod if I had my way I’d dress you every day! You’re too adorable! Watching him blushing like that just got my mommy-juices flowing, and made me really laugh. 

Anyway, I was still feeling overprotective of him all through cooking him breakfast. I’d immediately regretted sitting him up on that high stool at the kitchen bar, worried that he might fall and hurt himself. Silly, right? But still, I wanted him to watch me cook, fixing up the eggs and sausage patties I was going to make into breakfast sandwiches and perched there at the bar across from the stovetop he’d have a perfect spot to watch me cracking eggs. Just like I’ve done to you this weekend, huh? Cracked you open? He watched, and he even yelled at me to be careful when I put my hand right down on a still-orange-hot ceramic burner. I pulled it right back, on instinct - it was warm for sure, but really didn’t hurt at all! He was a little freaked out by it, eyes as big as saucers, not believing what he was seeing. I guess you’ve got a fireproof girlfriend, huh? I was tempted to put my hand right back down on it, palm flat, look him in the eyes, show you what I can do. Anyway, I was more worried about him - those seats were so tall! He could slip off and fall! But, yes, I guess I was just being a nervous nelly because he was fine and finally I got to sit alongside him, on his left, on a stool of my own, to make sure he stayed safe. 

“You haven’t drank any of your juice,” I commented nodding at the little glass I’d filled for him as I cut up his sausage patty into teeny tiny pieces, “I could pour you some milk but you should get your vitamin C.” After a little thought I’d figured it’d be best if he just had his eggs and sausage like normal on a plate, not a sandwich. Easier to eat and chew and not choke. 

“Yeah huh,” he mumbled, like he was distracted by something, like my not-burnt-up hand got him thinking too hard. Since I’d sat him down, and as I cooked, I’d felt he was a little distant. He was definitely being quiet. So as I sliced up his food next to him, I made sure to take in a nice deep breath and swell up my boobs in my top, a black tank with white piping. If you’re going to be distracted by something, I want it to be me. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked. Wow, so serious. I don’t know if I like that. Just look at my boobies. 

He finally spoke. “Thank you for saving my life today.”

Oooo. That’s what was distracting you? Me being your superhero? Well, that’s okay haha.

“Oh, it was my pleasure!” I laughed, waving him off. I didn’t want him to think that I thought it was a huge deal. It’s just what I do now. But it did fill me with a little pride, knowing I had his life in my hands like this, that it’s only because of me he’s still breathing. “But maybe I deserve a raise!” <giggle!>

To that he gave me a funny look, But just then, suddenly, she was on the counter, between us, the little ball of fur.

“Tiger!!” I exclaimed, thankfully remembering the right name even in my surprise, “Bad boy!” I pushed her away - she’d immediately gone for his meal - but she was obviously hungry and persisted. “Shoo! Don’t be such a brat!” I said, as I reached with my left arm across the bar to grab another small plate and slide the platter of extra scrambled eggs and sausage towards myself. “Don’t worry I’ll feed you,” I said, as I forked over a patty and some eggs, about the same amount I’d served to him. I began to cut them up into teeny tiny pieces. She was now staring at the plate, trying to be patient. “What a hungry boy this morning, huh?” I said. 

Watching me make a plate for ‘Tiger’ that looked just like the one I’d made for him, Jay spoke up. “You do know that's a female cat, right?" he said, like he was telling me something new.

"Oh of course!” I said,  “I just like to tease her!” 

At that, he shrugged and set to pushing his food around his plate with his fork, satisfied with my explanation. I’m sure you’re thinking ‘that's really weird’. But that’s me! Yep you’re stuck with the crazy girl!

I set the plate of cat food on the floor - “No kitties on counters!” I told her, just to piss her off - and she jumped down for it. Me, myself? Yes! I was hungry! I’d loaded two sausages and eggs onto some toast and started digging into it sandwich style. It was actually pretty good - I didn’t burn anything! My cooking skills were improving haha!! 

Now that I was done cooking, I let him watch me eat. Feeling him watch my jaw, my throat muscles, how my neck moved gave me a warm dominant feeling. He watched my hands, so big around the sandwich. He watched my lips, my teeth, my nom nom RAWR mouth haha just open up reeeeeal wide and BITE. He had such an intent look in his eyes, I loved it. And when I put my sandwich down to reach up and release the loose ponytail I’d put in, his jaw sorta haha fell open and he watched my hair cascade down around my shoulders. 

“Y-your hair looks longer,” he said.

“Yeah I didn’t cut it yet today,” I replied, reaching behind my neck and fluffing it out, letting it all fall now halfway down my back. His look was so precious! That obviously confused him: who needs to cut their hair every day? Me! I do! Ever since I met you.

“You’re still not drinking your juice,” I finally said, trying to keep my concern from making me sound too nitpicky. “You’ve had a big weekend, you need your energy,” I continued, pressing him. He just sort of looked at his little glass, not really saying too much, so I took it and gulped it but didn’t swallow. In my mouth for a moment I let it warm up or whatever, watched him watching me, and spit it all back into his glass.

“You know what to do,” I said, as I slid it back to him with a soft smile. I know, baby. I know what you need, it’s okay.

Without much delay at all - well, maybe a little, he looked embarrassed - he drank it. A few sips, then a bit more. OOOoooo that was exciting, so funny, watching him! I could feel my eyes sparkling, eagerly. That’s where we are, honey, you and me. It’s fine. You need me for this sort of thing. “Would you like more?” I asked. 

“No thank you.”

"Baby you have to eat, get some energy" I cooed in his ear as I leaned in closer to him, blanketing him with my perfumes. "It will help you keep up with me. Don’t you want to be able to do that?" I looked down at his plate, which was basically untouched. I promise it wasn’t me! My cooking was actually now pretty good! With his fork I speared a piece of sausage, one I’d cut for him into a little morsel, and chewed it up a bit, more than I normally would. He let out the cutest little moan as he watched me chew. Do you know what’s about to happen? Then, my free hand went behind his head and I leaned in for a kiss. “C’mre, baby,” I said, around the bit of sausage, right before our lips met, “give me a kiss.”

The sparks, yes, as usual - our kisses were always so exciting! - but I used my tongue to push the chewed-up bit of sausage into his mouth. I felt him stiffen, a little shocked or surprised, but when I sealed my lips back up and backed off a bit, I knew he knew what he needed to do. I watched as he chewed it a bit, even though he didn’t need to, and swallowed,

Oh my god I’m chewing his food for him now!

Without even letting him get the chance to talk, to complain or argue or feel embarrassed, I forked and chewed up another bit of sausage, this time with some nice soft buttery scrambled eggs. Mushed all up, I kissed and pushed it into him again. This time, he didn’t even try to chew on his own; he just swallowed.

“You…you like my cooking, huh?” I said, getting a little - haha, omigod! Look at your face! - hot under the collar, warm in my chest. It was, now that I think back on it, the first real feeling of the swelling in my breasts that would get to be such a part of my life soon. When he nodded, acknowledging that yes yes yes you liked it, I waved my hand over my chest, fanning myself. “Sorry, but…you got my mama juices flowing all over again,” I told him, with a giggle.

I’d taken another forkful, a bit more this time, and had started to chew. He looked at me, his eyes all confused, and leaned back in his chair a bit. He wanted to show me something. He looked down at his own lap, and I did too. Oh my god! His penis was so hard! Sticking up, between his elastic waistband and belly, out from his gray sweatpants. It nearly got up to his, like, ribcage!

He only said one word. “W-w-why?” he asked me.

To that, I giggled, I laughed a little, and shrugged. I didn’t really know, but it all made sense! 

“I d-didn’t used to be like this,” he said, his voice all small and little and nnngh making me want to just forget the eggs and eat him up!

I could only come up with one thing to say, as I stood up. ”That was then,” I told him as my hand took hold of his erection, still chewing a bit as I - standing over him now - took his jaw in my other hand and raised his chin. I leaned in again to feed him, giving him a nice, purposeful squeeze down below. “This is now.” 

I could feel the hunger pheromones (that’s what they’re called!) totally pouring off of me. His mouth widened right up for me, his neck craning. “That’s right, open up for mama bird,” I said, and just opened my mouth to let my mouthful of food empty into him as I sealed my mouth around his. It sounds gross, maybe? But omgggggg it was so hot, feeling him take it, feeling his little neck and throat working, swallowing my offering.

“That’s right, take the food I bought for you, with my money, the food I cooked for you,” I said, as I lifted back up again, “Now the food I chewed for you.” What’s next baby? What’s our next step? What else can my body do for you? Help keep you fed and nourished?

Oh god I couldn’t help myself I took a big bite of my own egg and sausage sandwich and as I chewed it for him and made it extra mushy I hugged his head to my chest with one hand, and as I dropped my mouth again to his open one I started jerking him off.

Feed from me feed from me feed from me babyyyyyyy

He jerked a bit - actually a lot, his body went all stiff! - as I pushed even more of my wet, chewed food than before into our big kiss. I squeezed his face into my boobs and stroked and stroked and felt the warmth from him and even more in my chest swelling it was like almost tender-getting and I felt him swallow and he groaned and then he was exploding again in my hand oh god making a new mess. 

“That’s good, baby, that’s so good,” I purred, feeling him shudder against me, “come for mama bird.”  I also felt the girls out there all cooing and clucking in the Bliss, and I was so happy here knowing I wasn’t only feeding him but them too. I - me, Melissa Monroe, Melissssy - I could provide for everybody! 

I can’t wait!

================================================

More thanks to RiF, editor-at-large

Check out my Patreon for lots more from GITJ

[testingthewatersss]

I never lost him Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort ft. Steve Rodgers. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 7 3890 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Post TWS Steve realises that he's not the only one looking for Sargent Barnes. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

Y/N is still laughing when they reach the bathroom, and they’re both grinning by the time they’ve finished washing up.

Despite Bucky’s poor attempt at denial, she catches the way he lingers under the pressurised spray of water, and makes a mental note to get it upgraded to one that is more customisable.

She mentions the idea to him in the bedroom and he scoffs, telling him that even if she’d given him a hundred years he’d have never thought about making a customisable shower head. She laughs and says that there must be some kind of stupid thing that he’s always wanted.

‘I can’t think of anythin’ like that’ he tells her

When she asks him for his top ten favourite luxuries in general he rolls his eyes, towel wrapped around his waist and replies that he’s looking at them right now.

“I’m not a luxury, Barnes” she mock scolds, turning to grab herself some clean clothes from her dresser, “and I’m serious— if you could invent any 10, ridiculous, unnecessary, frivolous things, what would they be?”

“Oh, god, doll— I don’t know.”

She just laughs again, and gestures towards the clothes she’d laid out for him earlier.

“Well, why don’t you ponder it for awhile and let me know when you have some ideas.”

He scoffs, and dresses himself without further rebuttal, only pausing to relish in the way that it feels to have soft, clean clothes to put on for a change.

The socks nearly make him cry again, but instead, he finds himself tugging at his dog tag and waiting longingly for Y/N to turn back towards him.

It isn’t a long wait.

She’s ready in no time, spinning on her heals to beam at him, as she reaches out to hold his hand.

As the pair walk back out towards the living-room, Bucky makes a detour to the wicker basket, grabbing the same blue quilt he’d been fussing with earlier before leading Y/N back to the couch.

They curl up together, and when his head settles neatly into the curve of her chest, he realises that it feels strangely like he’s taking his first real breath of the day.

“Wanna watch some TV?” Y/N offers, “Maybe take a nap before lunch?”

He makes a soft noise of consideration, snuggling down impossibly further into her front.

This is his favourite way to sleep.

Between her thighs, with her arms around him, with his whole body pressed against hers.

“What do you feel like eatin’, doll?”

His voice is tired. She thinks that he’ll probably doze off before long, regardless of her answer.

“I’m not sure” she replies honestly, “haven’t really thought about it, how about you?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re havin” he mumbles, pressing a lazy kiss against her arm, “Do we have anythin’ here?”

“Sure we do” she replies, “I normally use the main kitchen, y’know, downstairs, but we have some bits knockin’ around.”

“Or…” he begins, “we could always ask Steve to pick us somethin’ up?”

That takes her by surprise. Genuine surprise, that makes her blink down at him dumbly for a moment as she wonders if she’s misheard him.

“We could” she allows after a beat, “but then he’ll want to bring it.”

“We were goin’ to let him see me today” Bucky reminds her, “and I… I figured this way it… it might be less awkward than him just bein’ told to come by and wave.”

“Alright” she chuckles, “Fair point, but it’s up to you, sweetheart— this whole thing with Rodgers, it's all you.”

He nods, brow furrowing in thought

“If you called him now do you think he would answer?”

“If I call him?” she says with a scoff, “yeah, Buck I think he would.”

He nods again.

“It’s one” she notes, “If I spoke to him now and asked him to swing by a bodega or somethin’ on his way back you’d have time to nap or change your mind before he gets here.”

“Okay” he agrees, “and if I do— If I do change my mind, then-”

“Then I suppose I could meet him at the door, tell him you’ve passed out on the bed and ask him to come back later.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure I would” she says, “but, this is all hypothetical, because we don’t have to ask him to bring us anything, we could always just order a delivery if you want take out that badly.”

His eyes roll just before he buries his face back against her chest.

“Can you call him, doll?” he asks quietly, “I think this is goin’ to be the way that gets me the least worked up.”

“Okay” she allows, “What shall I ask him to grab?”

“Whatever you want, doll”

That’s clearly one decision too many. She can feel the tension creeping back into his shoulders, so, she nods quickly, pressing a kiss against his brow.

“There’s a nice deli not far from where he is, you still like cheese-steaks?”

He nods silently, tightening his arms around her waist as she asks FRIDAY to make the call.

“Do you want me to take it on my cell?” she offers, “Or is speaker alright.”

“Speakers fine” he murmurs, “I’m goin’ to see him soon, no point hidin’ from his voice.”

Y/N scoffs at that, stroking a gentle circle across his back as she waits for the other man to connect.

“Hello?” Steve says, anxiety clear in his tone, “Y/N, are you okay?”

Bucky can’t help but smile as the woman he’s laying on chuckles.

“Sure I am, Steve” she replies, ever calm, “I’m fine, just wonderin’ if you could do me a favour whilst you’re out.”

“Anything-” he bursts, eager to accept, “Whatever you need.”

Bucky mouths an almost inaudible ‘Jesus Christ’ at the man’s desire to please her, and she rewards him with a smile and a playful swat against his hip.

“Can” she begins, swallowing laughter as he nestles down, kissing any part of body that he can reach, “Can you just, stop by the deli on 25th? grab a couple of the cheese-steaks.”

The silence on the other end of the line is telling. It lasts a fraction too long to be natural and Bucky can’t help but push himself up a little so that she can see the quirk in his brow.

Y/N’s hand is against his cheek before he can get too nervous about having over-stepped with his request. He’s still keening out towards her fingers when Steve finally clears his throat;

“I— Sure I can, are… where, where do you want me to bring them?”

“To my room?” she replies, “I’m back at the tower now, didn’t think about making a pit stop on the way”

“You’re home?” he asks quickly, “Are… are you alone?”

She meets Bucky’s eyes for a moment, genuinely curious about whether or not he’s going to speak. He gives her a small smile, before looking away, and that’s when she’s sure that he’s not.

“No” she admits, “Not, right now.”

The laugh Steve gives her is breathless, it’s so genuinely elated that Barnes is blushing when he hears it.

“So, he— is- is Bucky, is he there?”

“Steve” she warns, “Remember our little talk about patience?”

“Yeah” he says lightly, “Yeah, I do— but, but when I bring them back can— can I say hi?”

“—that depends—” Bucky’s tired voice inserts, “—are you goin’ to start bawlin’ or somethin’—”

Y/N is stunned. Truly, utterly, stunned.

and if the choked sound Steve makes is anything to go by, so is he.

“Bucky?” he asks after a moment, “Buck is it—”

“You know it is” he replies, confidence waining a little now that the interaction is real, “Y/N/N told you I was comin’ “

and then he’s back to laughing, the same disbelieving laughter that has almost become his trademark lately.

“I, god” he says, “I can’t believe it’s you— are, are you okay? do you have everythin’ you need? I can bring anythin—”

“Steve” Y/N cautions, more firmly than before, “Take a breath”

The look of gratitude on Bucky’s face is obvious. He hadn’t meant to set the man off like that, he… he hadn’t really meant to do anything other than say hello, and now all of this is suddenly feeling like… like a big step for a phone call—

“Okay” Steve chuckles, “Okay, yeah, you’re right— sorry— sorry, Buck I- I know you need time, and your own space, I- I get it, I swear.”

“Breathe” Y/N repeats, “take a breath- I wouldn't put it past you to be the first super solider to give himself an asthma attack”

To his credit, he does listen to her, despite her teasing tone. The way that he stops to draw in a real, grounding breath is audible, even via a phone call.

“I’m… I’m here and I’m fine” is what Bucky chimes in, “I… I’m just— it’s… this a lot, Steve”

“Yeah” the other man agrees, clearly a little bit calmer, “Yeah, I know- I’m sorry”

“Stop apologising” Y/N inserts, “It’s fine, you’re both fine-“

“She’s right…” Bucky agrees, “I… I trust you, I know you want to make this easy on me”

“I do” Steve agrees, “I really, I do, Buck- so anything, anything either of you need—”

“Let’s start with lunch” Y/N suggests, knuckle grazing Bucky’s chin, “Don’t rush back, just finish up whatever you’re doin’, stop by the deli and-”

“2 cheese-steaks” Steve finishes happily, “I’ll see you soon?”

That’s a question. It’s definitely a question.

“Yeah” Bucky answers, “See you soon.”

FRIDAY ends the call, and Y/N can’t help but tilt her head as the man in her lap sags back into her front.

“You can still change your mind” she promises, knowing he’ll need the reminder, “Baby, that was brave…”

“..I… I’ve missed him” he says, realising as he does, that it’s the truth, “I’m just, god I'm scared, I'm scared and I don't even know why.”

“I know”

She does know, too, she’s known that he’s missed Steve since she'd first had a real conversation with it, despite his frequent and sometimes playful denials.

“Will you stay close?” Bucky asks next, “When he’s here, doll, will you stay with me?”

“Sure I will” she swears, stroking a line from his temple, all the way across his neck, “I’ll stay wherever you want me to.”

He likes that, nodding before huffing out a deep breath.

“You know…” she says, thought just occurring to her, “…I don’t think Steve has actually ever been in here…”

“Hmm?”

“Steve” Y/N says again, “he’s never stopped by, it’s always been me goin’ to see him.”

“Well” Bucky sighs tiredly, “You’re a real pretty girl, and he’s never been real good at speakin’ to dames, maybe he’s a little scared too”

“Maybe” she agrees, “We’ll have to make sure he feels welcome”

He just hums again, daring to imagine how nice it might be to have his oldest friend come to visit.

To come to his home for a meal, like… like they’d done as boys.

To see him and Y/N laughing, to see the two people he cares for the most in the world together, together in one place, in one, safe place.

And then he’s asleep.

Y/N notices the rise and fall of his chest becoming deeper, and then, she sees the tell-tale way his legs twitch when he starts dreaming.

“FRIDAY, let me know when Steve gets close”

The AI hears her whispered request and replies almost silently so as not to disturb the man in her arms.

For a minute, she wonders what to do with herself, but then, she remembers the ‘code white’ protocol and the way that the list of programmed triggers have been transferred over to her.

In Tony’s defence, it’s actually not a bad list.

It includes basic behavioural alerts, and, an audio monitoring system that is set to catch any of his code words in every known language.

So if anyone tries to use them, if anyone tried to hack into anything and blast them over their speakers, or if anyone was stupid enough to try them in person, then they’d be alerted before anything could come of it.

She looks more into what exactly happens when it is activated, too, and when she does, she realises just how thoughtful Tony had been when coding it.

It doesn’t just remove Bucky’s access and send out a ping to their devices.

It locks him in whatever room he’s in, unless he’s with anyone the software isn’t certain is a friendly.

It secures him, safely, in one place, making sure that nobody could try and take advantage of the situation; and then, it sends a distress signal, her, Steve and Tony, not letting up until they’re within range of his location and even then, they still need to manually over-ride it.

There are details, too, details so thoughtful that she doubts that even she could’ve come up with anything better;

Wherever Bucky is, when this is triggered, is programmed to be as calming of an environment as possible.

The lights will stay dim, and the audio will be dampened— FRIDAY is still set to respond to him as family, so he won’t ever be left totally alone waiting for someone he trusts to arrive.

She only makes a few minor adjustments. She adds a triggers that they wouldn’t have known about, and eases the parameters for his biological monitoring to better allow for his enhancements.

“He’s not Steve” she tells FRIDAY quietly, “If Tony’s ever doing anything like this again, remind him that he was exposed to different stimuli, and has some more more complex internal components— it’s not just his arm, which, by the way, is more invasive than he thinks.”

The AI’s barley audible ‘Yes, boss’ makes her smile, so does the agreement she gets when she asks her to let her brother know how grateful she is for all of his hard work.

Tony likes gestures, Y/N thinks to herself, maybe I can finish up a project for him?

“Hey, FRIDAY?” she sighs, flicking her holo-tablet off, “Is Tony stallin’ on anythin? Somethin’ that he just can’t seem to make himself finish?”

“Now you mention it, Y/N- There is the end of year review for the STARK internship programme. He has been opening the files, but he has yet to make a start on the actual report, even though he has had the brief for the past 4 months.”

“Send it over” she murmurs, smiling to herself, “Will I have time to get started, or shall I wait until tonight?”

“Captain Rodgers is downstairs, I was just about to alert you.”

“Later it is” she decides, slipping back to normal volume now that she knows she has to wake Bucky anyway, “Hey, baby”

Her fingers curl through his hair as she shifts, repeating her greeting.

He’s still in her arms, face pressed against her chest, and as he feels himself becoming more and more alert, he starts to remember exactly where he is.

And then he’s smiling.

“God” he mumbles, “did, did I pass out?”

Y/N chuckles, rubbing her nose against his before pressing a kiss against his mouth.

“A little” she soothes, stroking his cheek, “did you sleep well?”

“Yeah” he replies honestly, “Yeah, I— I did”

“Good” she beams, kissing him again, “Steve’s on his way, have you decided what you wanna’ do?”

He ducks his head, bashful for a moment.

“I’ll say Hi” he tells her, “We… We should invite him in, too?”

“It’s your place” she reminds him gently, “You can invite whoever you want.”

That concept makes him smile, sweet and genuine as he nods.

“I… I might be a little jumpy” he warns her, “I- I’d feel better if you—”

“—Stay close?”

She nods as she strokes a line down, across both of his arms, feeling the softness of the fabric sleeves he’s wearing.

“You like the shirt?” she wonders, “Does it fit?”

“Yeah” he says, “Yeah it… it’s perfect”

“Good” is the last thing she manages to say before there’s a knock on their door.

Bucky freezes for a second. Eyes widening as adrenaline floods his chest, but then, he takes a breath, and moves so that they can both stand up.

He clings to Y/N’s hand the second he can reach, and doesn’t even think about letting go as they head towards the entrance.

“If you need to leave” she tells him under her breath, “just go to the bedroom— I’ll take care of Steve, okay?”

He nods, biting his cheek so hard that he tastes blood on his tongue.

“Here we go then”

The door opens, and Y/N nearly chokes when she sees Steve Rodgers, stood, in his full suit, shield strapped to his back, with a bag of cheese-steaks in his hands.

“Oh my god” she scoffs, blinking rapidly, “What are you wearing?”

He looks down at himself, gawking.

“I- I was doin’ press” he stammers awkwardly, “I-”

“You didn’t think about changin?” Bucky says, shock making him forget his nervousness for a moment

“Well-” Steve says, smiling shyly, “You did make me promise to keep the outfit, remember?”

Out of all the ways that Bucky might’ve reacted, Y/N thinks that him, letting go of her hand whilst stepping forwards to hug his oldest friend is probably the best.

Steve is clearly so taken aback by the gesture that he doesn’t know what to do, because the way that he barely grazes the other mans back with his arms is telling.

The whole thing is so sweet, so desperately, earnestly sweet, that she doesn’t know what to do.

The pair separate quickly enough, and Bucky retreats to her side with a flush of red in his cheeks and eyes that look awfully full.

Y/N suspects Steve is crying too, but if he is, he hides it well by turning to fuss with his shield.

“How many subs did you get?” she asks, looking at the bag he’s still clutching, “That’s a little big for only 2?”

“Oh” he chuckles, “yeah, they— they gave me a bunch, insisted when they, saw— y’know? they would’t even let me pay! I had to get FRIDAY to wire it across”

Y/N sniggers a little at that, at the image of a fully dressed Captain America standing in line at a Deli.

“Want to come eat with us?”

Steve’s jaw drops when Bucky asks him that.

When he looks at Y/N, face full of surprise and she just offers him a one armed shrug.

“I… are— are you sure, Buck, I- I don’t want to gate-crash”

“It’s not gatecrashin’ if you’re invited” Bucky counters, feeling awfully proud of himself, “I- I’m not sayin’ I’m ready to throw a dinner party but, you should see where I’m stayin’ at least.”

“Yeah” Steve grins, “Yeah I’d, I’d love that, Y/N/N- is, is that okay with you?”

“It’s his place as much as mine, ‘Cap” she says, leading the way inside, “and he’s right, you should see it— honestly I can’t believe you haven’t stopped by sooner.”

“If I’m bein’ honest” he says, closing the door behind himself, “I’ve only ever been this high up once or twice.”

“Roof parties or for the labs?” Y/N asks, watching calmly as Steve’s eyes widen, obviously captivated by the space,

“Once of each” the pair say in unison.

Steve lets out an awkward chuckle, still taken aback by inside of her suite.

“C’mon boys” she coos, acutely aware of the way that Bucky has frozen, now, hovering by her side, fingers tight against her own, “Let’s eat?”

The nod Steve gives her is much more natural than that of her partner.

They walk to the couch, and sit, together, with Steve hovering awkwardly in front of them until Y/N rolls her eyes and points at the arm chair.

“Sit, Steve, Jesus— You’re acting like you thought I lived in a- well I don’t know, what were you expecting?”

He opens the bag, pulling out three sandwiches, and passing her two before looking up and around again.

“Not this…” he admits, “I’m, I’m not really sure, darlin’— maybe something a little more…“

“Modern?” Bucky guesses, recalling his earlier observations.

“Yeah” Steve agrees, grinning, “yeah, that’s the word.”

“It’s plenty modern” Y/N retorts playfully, “Almost half the stuff in here is custom built technology, god, I think even the cutlery is vibranium.”

“I didn’t mean it like that” Steve says, taking a bite out of his sub, “I meant the… the stuff”

Her eyes roll again, and she notices how the only one of them who hasn’t even unwrapped his meal is Bucky.

He’s still clinging to her hand, sandwich abandoned on his lap.

Y/N meets Steve’s eye a second before he considers mentioning it.

The look she gives him speaks a thousand words, and he finds himself ignoring it completely, containing the polite chatter he’s making with her, instead.

"You know why me and Tony have all the important stuff up so high?" she says, "It's so if we ever have to jump out the window, there's enough time for the emergency suits to deploy- we had to get measurements so we knew which floors we could claim"

And Bucky is insanely grateful. He’s so, so grateful to not have to try and speak right now, when all he wants to do is watch.

Y/N just keeps hold of his hand, as she eats with the other.

She nods along with Steve and hopes she knows how important it is that he doesn’t push too hard right now.

This is already such a huge step. It really is the epitome of running before you can walk, though, so she doesn’t want to do anything that might cause him to stumble.

A few minutes pass and they’re done with their food.

They’re done, and Steve knows that he should probably leave.

“Did you tell T that we’re back?” Y/N asks

“Yeah” Steve sighs, “but it kinda seemed like he already knew.”

She scoffs, bringing Bucky’s hand to her lips.

“Sounds about right” she murmurs, pressing kiss against his knuckles, “Tell him I’ll catch up with him tomorrow? I think we’re due a quiet night in, huh, Buck?”

His head tilts when he hears his name. He blinks, looking almost dazed before he smiles and nods in agreement.

“Yeah, doll” he murmurs, “a… a quiet night in sounds good…”

“I’ll pass it on” Steve swears, going to stand, “I- I should go and get changed”

Y/N chuckles at that, not bothering to stand, “You should definitely change” she agrees, “Romanoff is gonna kick your ass if she catches you roaming the halls like that”

His laugh is silent, it’s embarrassed but real. He nods in agreement and catches Bucky’s eye.

“I’ll see ya’ around, Buck” he promises, “and remember, if either of you need anythin’ then just-”

“let you know” Y/N chimes in softly, “We will, I promise, but for right now, I think we just need some time to settle in.”

He smiles at that, and nods in agreement, offering her a two fingered salute as he turns to leave.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | x | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

[metamorphosisff]

|Interludes| V. Good Morning Harlem

The sun filtered in through the blinds in the living room where we had fallen asleep and currently danced across Mila’s face. She was snuggled on top of me, sound asleep as I watched ESPN with the volume lowered. For as long as I have remembered, I have always been an early bird no matter what time I fell asleep. It was a little after ten which meant I had only gotten about five hours of sleep but I felt good. Better than I had in the last few months if I was being honest with myself and it was due to the woman in my arms. Tearing my gaze away from the television, I took a moment to take her in.

I can tell she was exhausted, having gone straight from a shift at work to the ball and then staying up with me. She held onto me tightly, limbs entangled with mine, as she buried her face in my chest. Every now and again, I would brush my fingers across a brow or down a cheek, because I couldn’t help but admire her. She didn’t stir when I absentmindedly played with the ends of her hair either. I felt like I had to touch her to make sure that this was real. That we were real. The feelings that I had for Mila ran ocean deep and it amazed me how in a little less than three months how ingrained she was in my life. I saw everything differently, tasted things differently, interpreted them differently before she came along. Doing life without Mila in it had been dull, monochromatic, and with her it was as if I were experiencing color for the first time.

As I trailed my index finger down the tip of her nose, her eyes fluttered open. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Why are you awake?” she murmured, eyes blinking trying to adjust to the light in the room.

I shrugged. “Just am. You can go back to sleep baby.”

“Maybe for like a few more minutes,” she said, causing me to chuckle. Leaning down I placed a kiss on her forehead which made her look up at me. “I think that’s one of my favorite things that you do.”

“Forehead kisses?”

“Yeah and the little touches on my face really. Sometimes when I’m having a not so pleasant dream, it makes me feel settled,” she said.

At that I smiled and pressed another kiss there. It meant a lot to me that she felt so at ease with me. She placed a kiss of her own on my chest before nuzzling her face against it until she found the perfect position to close her eyes. True to her word, Mila fell back asleep for almost another hour. I dozed for a few minutes myself but was still already awake when she declared that she was hungry.

“I’m hungry too. Want to go to Chocolat for brunch?” I asked, playing with the end of a braid.

“Mmm that sounds great but I don’t have any clothes and there is no way I’m wearing that costume in the light of day,” she chuckled.

“You can wear mine. Go turn one of my t-shirts into a dress,” I said, placing a kiss to her forehead.

“Okay,” she smiled up at me. 

Together, we got up from the couch and went to go get ready. While she rummaged through my closet to find an outfit. I had showered and was brushing my teeth when she sauntered into the bathroom, placing a light smack to my ass.

“Aye girl don’t start nothing if you trying to leave out on time,” I said, causing her to laugh.

“Oh yeah?”she asked, with a grin and a raised brow. Mischief in her gaze as she began sauntering closer. From the grip she placed on the bottom of my shirt I knew we weren’t leaving any time soon.

[liminalpebble]

Eddie's Education, Chapter 33

Masterlist link

Still suspended in her limbo of dreams, Leia curled into that imaginary couch, in that imaginary room, snuggled into imaginary blankets. She sunk deeper, drifting farther away from her reality and memories. When she tried to recall any of it, when the notion would itch within her that there was somewhere she had to be and something crucial she had to do, an opaque wall of dread would shock her back like an electric fence. Whatever was on the other side of this, she was deeply, viscerally, afraid to go near it, like a dog zapped one too many times and conditioned into aversion.

What if I remember who I am, and wish I never had? What if I leave this place and something horrible happens? Or what if something terrible is on the other side?

She was about to doze off and fall a little further into oblivion when a small hand began caressing her arm. A kind young voice was calling her name.

Leia...

“Leia...”

Leia opened her eyes and sat up straight, surprised into wakefulness by the company of a teenage girl whom she was almost certain she'd never met.

The girl was very pretty in a stunning 'prom queen' sort of way. She had wide blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair pulled into a perfect ponytail with a green scrunchie. She wore a matching cheerleader uniform and sparkly blue eye shadow. When she smiled it was bright and beautiful but, somehow, bittersweet.

“Hi, Leia,” she said, stroking her arm, “how do you feel?”

The girl said it like this was casual and normal, like it was just two long-time school friends having a sleepover.

Then comprehension hit her like a bolt of lightning. Upon hearing her name she thought, Leia...of course...my name is Leia, though no other information was forthcoming.

“Hi...um...I'm so sorry, but I don't think I know you. Where am I? What's going on?” Leia mumbled. She gulped, afraid to ask, but compelled to speak the question. “Am I dead?”

The cheerleader shook her head and smiled faintly, head bowing ever so slightly. “No, honey, you're not dead. I am.”

Leia had always tended toward skepticism in her life, but the last few days had challenged that tenet pretty thoroughly.

Though she couldn't remember this about herself consciously, Leia still found herself about to scoff in disbelief. Then she considered that, right now, her grasp of what was and wasn't possible was tenuous at best.

“My name's Chrissy,” she chirped. “I'm here to help you find your way. I know you're tired, but you can't stay here. I'm gonna need you to be brave.”

Leia's sluggish mind began piecing it together. The name rung a bell. Something about old newspaper articles with her picture in them and tragic headlines. A tiny winking gleam caught the corner of Leia's vision and she noticed a delicate golden pendant around Chrissy's neck bearing the numbers '86.

86...1986...something horrendous happened in 1986 to someone I care about.

Leia's head began to ache as if an ice pick was being stabbed through her eye socket. The pain burned white-hot. Just as the ache receded, the urge to simply lay back down on the soft cushions and drift off again hit her with a nearly irresistible force.

As her vision blurred drowsily and her eyelids went heavy, the cheerleader began to fade into an impressionist painting of one instead of the real thing. Meanwhile, Chrissy held on even tighter. “No no no....Leia. You have to wake up. If you go any deeper, you won't be able to come back.

Leia almost asked “back where?”, but when she saw the bold letters on Chrissy's uniform spelling out “Hawkins” in green and gold she knew, somehow.

That was it. That was the “where”.

“I don't understand. I'm missing...something. Why do I have to go back? I don't remember. All I have is this feeling...this horrible overwhelming feeling...that awful things have happened wherever I was. Maybe even because of me. What if I go back and remember and something awful happens to me...or to..?”

To someone...to someone I love so much...

She tried to think past the ache. Chrissy touched her forehead and a warm glow fanned out from the point of contact, like when a child places their hand over a flashlight, illuminating the flesh into translucence.

Leia remembered a smell; cigarettes mingled with the clean warmth of cheap detergent.

A feeling...several; the feeling of warm skin, chapped in places, interrupted by cool metal. The silky sensation of her hand running through wild fleecy curls. The saline trickle of tears. The warm, wet, excited touch of kissing and sex and tender, careful, hands.

A feeling...several; grief, guilt and fear, but also sugary, honey-sweet arousal and infatuation, the rush of being alive; but beneath that shell, true, deep love. Selfless love; bravery exchanged at great cost to each other.

Chrissy took Leia's hand and reverently placed something small and rigid into it.

Leia opened her palm to see a worn out ball and chain necklace with a marbled plastic guitar pick; chipped to hell and attached with a paperclip. It had a trademark haphazard style...something so specific and familiar it made her heart ache.

When she saw it, her synapses lit up like Christmas lights, blinking away. In the medical facility, where her body lay motionless, her monitors lit up the same way, causing a flurry of activity around her.

“Eddie!,” Leia gasped out as if the word had been punched out of her lungs. Her eyes shot wide open where she was resting on the operating table. Although her eyes were open to the real world, they were still clouded over, unseeing.

While her awareness was still completely preoccupied with what was happening in her mind, small rivulets of bright blood trickled from her nose and tear ducts, painting the white hospital gown and steel table beneath her with sanguine blossoms.

She felt panic surge through her now, but Chrissy just held her cheek in her hand and nodded happily. “That's right! Eddie! You remember now? Yeah?”

Leia could only nod while the tears streamed down her face. “Oh god...how...how could I forget?”

“It's okay. This place can do that.”

Leia almost asked again where “this place” was...but she had the sense that words couldn't explain it anyway.

Leia looked around frantically for a moment as the room began to unravel and disintegrate around them. She held tighter to Chrissy's hand and blurted out, “What...what if I'm not supposed to go back? What if something terrible happens?”

Chrissy was silent for a long moment. She wasn't in a hurry, even as the furniture and walls dissolved and washed away like silt.

Finally, she sighed and said, “But what if something good...really good...happens? We can't know anything for sure. Most things we don't get to know or control in our lives, but that can't stop us from living them. I can tell you first-hand...life is unfair. But also, it's so short and so precious. There could be so many good years...good moments for you, for Eddie. Live them for me.”

Tears began to wet her mascara and eye shadow, drawing a little stream of glittery black and blue down the side of her perfect face. Leia wiped it away gently with her thumb, brows peaked in concern.

“I'm sorry...I'm so sorry you didn't get your time with him. You loved him, too. Didn't you?”

Chrissy smiled fondly, nostalgically, at that. She even blushed a little.

“Yeah...yeah, I did. He's hard not to love. But, do me a favor when you get back and love him as hard as you can. Love him for me too. Love him for all the people who weren't there or couldn't be there to love him like he deserved. Take care of him for me, okay?”

“I will. I promise.”

“And, Leia?”

“Take care of yourself. You deserve a good life.”

They embraced, eyes shut, and as their mutual dreamworld shimmered into nothingness around them, Leia found her courage and waited for the next great unknown to unfurl.

The cloudy cataracts cleared from her eyes and Leia finally woke up.

@sweetsigyn @veemoon @elegantkoalapaper @little-wormwood

[quiveringdeer]

Random Smutty Musings about one Toshinori Yagi

written with chubby!afab folks in mind cause tis what I am and what I think in terms of most

additions gifted by the glorious @birds-have-teeth shall be bracketed by --

I was casually thinkin of Toshi while running errands today and how different his libido would be from his younger days.

Like that it probably wasn't uncommon for him to get hella aroused even with the slightest provocations --and also I dunno I just see him remaining a virgin until later in life cause saving the world is a big job and while he's personable and extroverted and maybe he ends up going on some dates cause he wouldn't know how to politely say no to folks, he never gets pretty far cause of whatever reasons.

And basically was just thinkin about how sweet it'd be coaxing him through some of his first experiences and then how needy he'd be after them but also not wanting to bother you aaaaaaall the time just cause his body has a ridiculous drive.

and then later on with the reunion, he's not as horny persay but he's so needy being so touch starved. And anytime you're together he wants to be touching you.

I dunno exactly how old he was when he got OFA but regardless this man is definitely a virgin until at LEAST mid-late twenties and honestly I'm more inclined to say early-mid thirties if that (which is when I'm hc meeting him in my lil daydreams)

Thanks to One for All he has a low refractory period (cause plot magic lmao), but cause he gets to rely on that he also just cums so fuckin easy and doesn't even try to hold it back--I mean he does cause he gets incredibly embarrassed, and the sensitivity can be a bit much but yeah

Just imagining eventually putting him through some stimulation "training", teasing and stimulating him in all the different ways and having him try to hold himself back, try to please you but also beat his own records. He's so so soooo overjoyed everytime you praise him for making it to a new standard

--him whimpering and groaning in that deep staccato voice of his--

He's got his eyes closed, face scrunched up, fingers clenching onto something and your eyes are on a timer you set as you lazily stroke his cock. He makes it past the time and you coo up at him about how well he did and he sucks in a deep breath and erupts all over your hand, trembling all over and then blinking down at you (why's he so fuckin tall even sitting down??) flushed and already murmuring sweet lil apologies

--And he’ll whine that you have to stop praising him because it’s making him cum faster and and and- --

which just has you laughing softly and complimenting how damn cute he is when he's all flustered!!!

he leans forward to try and hide his face in your hair. But you don't let him, casually capturing his chin with your non messed hand, giving him a chaste lil peck on his lips.

"Nuh uh, good bunnies clean their mess up first." You say before lifting your other fingers up to his lips. Somehow his cheeks flush even deeper and he casts his eyes to the side--since he can't turn away-- and opens up his mouth obediently, pink tongue licking his cum from your fingers.

More new to sex Toshi thoughts...

Toshi who is now assailed by his relentless libido ALL THE TIME. And how even after a really intense session that leaves you zonked out with that 'dead to the world' typa sleep, he dozes off a bit beside you but couple hours later wakes up hard as a rock again, humping against your ass like the needy lil bunny he is

he tries to stop cause you're asleep and he'd feel bad waking you up just because his dick won't chill the fuck out. and so he rolls out of the bed, to put some distance and goes to the bathroom hoping a cold shower will end his arousal

it doesnt. his body feels so warm that the freezing water barely registers. feeling out of options he figures he'll just jerk himself off real quick then be good to snuggle back against you until you wake up.

that plan doesn't work out either. his hand just doesn't do the trick anymore. and even using some of the shower gel to make his palm feel for soft like yours doesn't help as he's trying to imagine you jerking him off.

He's so frustrated and isn't aware just how loud his whimpers of desperation have gotten. Even over the spray of the shower, they're loud enough to make your subconscious believe something is wrong, pulling you from sleep.

You shuffle into the bathroom, bleary eyed and naked. Toshinori goes suddenly quiet when you open the door and sleepily rasp out his name.

"Toshi, e'rything okay?"

No. Everything is awful and he needs you desperately. He swallows down thick saliva that apparently leaves his mouth completely dry because his voice is a coarse, frayed bare thing when he finally utters, "Yes. Fine."

He presses his back against the shower wall, forcing his arms to his sides and palms against the wall as well. Hoping the frigid tiles will seep some sense and control back into his body.

Sleep is steadily releasing it's grip on your mind so you've become aware enough to notice there's no steam in the bathroom. Odd since you both appreciated nice warm showers.

"Is something wrong with the hot water?"

The tiles isn't doing shit to help him out. You've said in the past that you find his neediness cute and flattering, but even with you now awake, he feels like he shouldn't immediately start begging you to touch him just cause he can't help himself.

He's in his head longer than he realizes because without any kind of response, you've slid aside the frosted glass and were now staring at him with a worried expression.

Your eyes sweep his body, taking in the redness all over. You assume it's from the cold water cause you can immediately notice the temperature after opening the sliding pane. But then, maybe it's from something else because you're taking in the sight of his cock standing at full attention --even though Toshinori is bashfully trying to hide it with his large hands. As if you all hadn't been fucking in all kinds of angles and positions some few hours earlier.

"What are you doing?"

"I..." He's not really sure what to say. There's a lot but he settles on the simplest truth. Croaked out of his still dry throat, "I was, trying to make it go away."

In one swift motion, you're turning off the water and reaching out your hand. "Why not just jerk off?"

"I was. It doesn't feel as good as when you do it. I couldn't..."

Your brows lift in surprise as his voice trails off. "Awww," you flex the fingers of your outstretched hand, encouraging him to step out of the shower. "My sweet, Bunny can't get off without me now?"

One large hand engulfs yours as Toshi moves to awkwardly step from the shower. His other hand still trying to cover his impressive erection. A deep groan is his other response. Too embarrassed by his neediness and inability to make himself cum to attempt another worded response.

When he's fully out of the shower you reach for a dry towel and pull it around his body before pressing yourself against his chest. "Y'dont have to be embarrassed, Bunny. It was real sweet of you to try and take care of it all by yourself while I slept. You're always so considerate."

Your head tilts back, and Toshi recognizes the unspoken request for a kiss when you pucker your lips. He immediately obliges, wrapping you up in his arms now that the towel is covering up his shameful failure. The tenderness of his cool, chapped lips brushing over yours is a complete contrast to the swiftness of him pulling you closer.

While he's pressed his lips softly to yours, he waits for you to take the lead in the kiss. Letting you decide the depth and intensity, while he's just grateful to have your body tucked against his again.

And consider this!

somnophilia thoughts with this, telling toshi that the next time he's stuck in this lil dilemma he could use your body to get off, if he wanted to.

either rutting against your ass or fucking between your thighs.

even with permission though, I don't know if he would. if anything I feel like he'd just eat you out until you wake up. whether that's a few minutes or way longer. just content to feast on you and give you orgasms while you're still unconscious, grinding his cock down against the bed being the only attention he gives himself

like the image of waking up as your muscles tighten up, back arching a bit as your hands fist in that wealth of pretty blond hair, them long fingers of his pumping in and out in that perfect rhythm you taught him as his mouth sucks on your clit.

he moans against your cunt as you sigh his name all soft, body relaxing back onto the bed.

his fingers are still lazily working you as you look down to see him smiling up at you. face glistening with your slick, blue eyes dark from how blown his pupils are, so aroused by giving you pleasure

waking up to him actually fucking his cock between your thighs. Oh so close to where he really wants to sink that pretty cock of his into, but not so sure he wants to go that far, even with your permission. cause even this still feels wrong to him, that he's taking pleasure from this without giving you something equal or better in return.

but he's just gotten back from a long long day of heroing and you're already sound asleep.

braced himself up behind you, holding you close and nuzzling into the back of your neck as at first he's just casually grinding his hips against you. and of course it doesn't take much to get him fully hard, pretty cock leaking pre

you wiggle a bit in your sleep and he thinks maybe you'll wake up and he can fuck you properly but no such luck. but your legs do open and close in a way that traps his cock between your thighs. (maybe you're not so asleep as he thinks)

the pre is the only lubrication he has as his hips move, pushing his cock back and forth between your soft thighs. his hands move under the oversized All Might shirt you're wearing as pjs. you don't usually wear his merch and so it gives him a bit of a thrill when you do. He knows you love him, Toshinori, and while you don't fawn over him as a hero like the rest of the world does, he loves knowing you do like and accept that part of him to.

his lips nip, kiss and suck along your neck and shoulder as those big hands of his fondle and grope at your tits and tummy, just wanting to somehow have all of you in his grasp, his hot breath starts to beat against the back of your neck more quickly as your thighs squeeze down around him.

he's huffing out strings of nonsense words against your neck. affirmation of how good you're making him feel, how thankful he is that you've given him permission to do this. that you don't find him pathetic for needing to do this. how much he adores you. how much he loves you.

you're definitely not still asleep but pretending for the sake of your own fantasies. it feels so good knowing Toshinori is this desperate that he can't even wait until you're properly awake--not that he's caught on that you are now very much awake.

your hand slowly moves between your thighs, making a gentle curve that cups the head of his cock when it slides past the expanse of your thighs.

toshi gasps. his own hands squeezing where they hold you. his hips nearly stay pressed to the backs of your thighs as he focuses on making quicker more powerful thrusts as your hand curves more firmly around the part of his cock peeking from between your flesh.

he's so gone. trying to imagine he's fucking into the tightness of your pussy even though it's not nearly wet or warm enough to be.

but what finally tips him over the edge. makes him spill that big load of cum he's been holding in all day is when you groan out, "cum for me, Bunny."

his hips stutter and he releases. coating your hand, thighs and the poor sheets in a wealth of cum, whimpering against your neck as you jerk him off through the aftershocks of his orgasm

fin

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours | Chapter 11

Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: The angst is coming y'all...please be prepared for BIG content warnings. Alleged domestic abuse, vomiting, panic attacks, BIG feelings, swearing

Colson

A week or so before Presley and I got married, Slim asked me a weird question. He asked if I was over Megan.

My knee jerk reaction was to scoff and tell him, “Of course I am.” But now I’m not so sure.

I have zero residual feelings for her. Presley takes up 100% of my heart. Even just looking at Megan repulses me sometimes. But will I ever be over the things she did, the way she made me feel? The way she broke my heart and made me feel small and worthless?

No. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that. Especially when she can’t let go of me.

Presley and I have been married a week when it happens.

I had an interview this morning and now the two of us are on the couch, snuggled up together. Presley is dozing in my arms as a cheesy scary movie plays softly on the TV. I’m almost drowsing myself when my phone buzzes loudly on the coffee table, startling both of us. It’s a phone call. Presley leans forward and grabs my phone, handing it to me.

I frown when I see Ashleigh’s name on the screen. It’s a random time for Ash to be calling, but I answer anyway. “Ash,” I say.

“Kells.” Her voice is a little wary, cautious. My spine stiffens and Presley pulls away, looking at me with concern in her eyes. 

“What’s going on?” I ask sharply. I put the phone on speaker. 

Ashleigh sighs. “You…you don’t follow Megan on Instagram, do you?”

A sick feeling twists in my stomach and I swallow it down. “I blocked her forever ago. Why?”

“Colson, I’m going to send you a screenshot. I need you to breathe before you do anything. We’re going to get it figured out,” she says. “Presley, are you there?”

“I’m here,” Presley answers quickly.

“Can you make sure he doesn’t lose his shit?” Ashleigh asks.

Angry, I glare at the phone, but then the screenshot comes through and all the anger at Ashleigh drains and is replaced by a fear that turns all the blood in my veins to ice.

The screenshot is a picture of a bruise. Megan’s face isn’t in the picture so it’s impossible to tell when it was taken. The focus of the photo is the large, hand-shaped bruise around her upper arm. My mouth dries out as my eyes flick down to read the caption.

I’ve been quiet too long about what happened to me almost two years ago.

My ex got married recently. He gets to live his perfect fairytale life while I fight every single day to 

heal from what he put me through. Bruises heal but emotional trauma doesn’t heal as easily. 

For a year of my life, I was abused at the hands of Colson Baker, aka Machine Gun Kelly. The things 

he did to me are horrific, unspeakable. I tried to warn his now wife, but she didn’t listen, just like I 

didn’t. This is how I heal, by posting it for others to see. Domestic abuse is real and it happens to 

people all the time. I refuse to suffer in silence anymore. 

By the time I read the last word, Presley has already grabbed a trash can and the contents of my stomach fill it. Even after my stomach is empty, I keep gagging. Ashleigh has gone quiet. Presley is silent, her hand rubbing circles on my back. This has to be a nightmare. There’s no way this is really happening to me.

Ashleigh hangs up after a while and Presley whisks the trash can out of the room. I sit on the couch, covered in sweat and shivering at the same time. One Instagram post and my career is over. My life is over. There’s no coming back from something like this. 

My phone is blowing up and I silently power it off, attempting to set it on the coffee table, but my hands are shaking so hard that it tumbles to the floor. I can vaguely hear Presley saying my name but my ears are ringing, the sound of waves rushing so loudly that nothing else feels real. And then, everything is black.

When I wake up again, there’s a sour taste in my mouth and I can tell I’m horizontal. I open my eyes but my head hurts, and all at once, it slams into me, what happened. Nausea rolls over me again but I breathe against it. I will not throw up again. It’s dark where I lie on the couch in the living room, but I can hear voices from the kitchen. 

“...defamation?” Presley.

“...can…that, but…reputation.” A voice I vaguely recognize. I rub my eyes, trying to focus on what they’re saying, but I can’t completely make it out. Who is here? 

I stifle a groan as I roll off the couch. Nausea washes over me again and I close my eyes, steadying myself on the arm of the couch before shuffling into the kitchen. I’m surprised when I see that the kitchen is full. Ashleigh and Presley sit at the dining room table with my lawyer, a short dude with a head of thick blonde hair. Olivia, Cash, Slim, Baze, and Rook sit around the island, everyone looking sick and stricken with worry.

“Kells,” Slim says when he sees me, jumping to his feet. He rushes over to me and pulls me into a tight hug. I let myself be held.

When he lets me go, Presley is by my side, and all I want to do is fall into her. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me in and my eyes sting with tears. Does she believe Megan? What will I do if Presley is convinced I’m an abuser? I never laid a nonconsensual hand on Megan. I won’t even get into all the times she slapped me because that doesn’t seem to count as abuse. I choke on a sob and Presley just holds me tighter, whispering quiet assurances in my ear. She holds me until I somewhat compose myself, and when I pull back, my lawyer is on his feet, walking towards me. 

“Mr. Baker,” he says, shaking my hand. “We’re going to fix this. I swear to you.”

I can’t seem to find my voice. I stumble over to the dining room and take a seat. My lawyer explains to me what he plans to do. We’re going to sue Megan for defamation. He prattles on about how there’s no proof, about how she never reported abuse during our relationship so nothing is concrete. He assures me that we’ll win, that we’ll run Megan dry of her money. But all I can think is that the world is going to think I’m an abuser.

Things got a lot better in the media for me when Presley and I got together. The media was happy to see me with a beautiful, talented girl. It seemed like opinions were finally starting to change.

But Megan can’t let me be happy without her. 

I should’ve seen this coming. 

And now it’s too late.

Presley

I sit up in bed waiting for Colson to come out of the bathroom.

He’s been in there for a long time, pushing half an hour. I don’t like that he’s hiding from me, that he isn’t allowing me to comfort him, but at the same time, I don’t want to push him. I glance at my phone; 2:09 AM. 

As I sit there worrying, it comes to me out of nowhere: Colson is scared I believe Megan.

With my heart in my throat, I scramble to my feet and go to the bathroom, placing my palm against the door. “Colson,” I say.

A sniffle that breaks my heart. “Yeah?”

“Let me in.”

“It’s unlocked.”

I swallow hard and open the door. He’s sitting on the closed toilet lid, head hanging down. He looks so broken that tears spring to my eyes. I go over to him and squat down in front of him. Reluctantly, he looks at me with red rimmed blue eyes. I’ve never seen him look so sad and it practically rips my heart from my chest.

“Hey,” I say softly, cupping his cheek. He leans into my touch. “Will you please come to bed?”

Colson sniffs and closes his eyes. His lip trembles a little and I want to go to Megan’s house right now and fucking throttle her. I keep the anger at bay, though. Finally, Colson nods. I take his hand and lead him to our bed, crawling in before him. He slides under the covers and I pull his head to my chest.

We’re quiet for a few minutes, my fingers running through his hair. He’s trembling. “Cols?” I whisper against his hairline. “You know I don’t believe her, right?”

Colson is silent for a long few moments. And then, he bursts into tears.

My eyes go wide. I’ve seen Colson cry, but never like this. His entire body is wracked with the strength of his sobs and my shirt is instantly soaked with his tears. I cling to him, pulling his body on top of mine. He clings to my waist, his head on my chest as he completely falls apart.

It’s a long time before the sobs subside into sniffles. I push his hair off his sweaty forehead and rub his back gently. “Baby,” I murmur. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I believe you. I know who you are.”

“What if you change your mind?” he rasps. “Everyone seems to believe everyone else but me eventually.”

I shake my head. “That won’t happen. Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

“Then trust that I won’t believe her,” I say, petting his hair. “Colson, I married you. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t trust and love 100% of you. Okay?”

Colson nods after a moment, his body relaxing ever so slightly. He believes me. He knows I wouldn’t lie to him. He sighs. “What am I going to do?”

“Survive,” I murmur, kissing his head. “Let your lawyer handle it. Let your fans handle it.”

“They won’t believe me,” he says miserably. 

“Oh really?” I ask, reaching for my phone. It takes me seconds to pull up an Instagram account with over 700,000 followers with the handle, @WeSupportColson. The bio reads: EST stands with Colson. Megan is lying. We’re here to show Colson we believe him. 

“That’s real?” Colson croaks. “You didn’t make it?”

I chuckle. There’s my sweet boy, with his sense of humor. “It’s real, babe. You have so many people who stand with you and always will.”

Colson sighs. “If anyone thinks I’m an abuser it’s too much,” he mutters. “I’m a good person, Presley. Why does everyone fucking hate me so much?” He’s crying again. I shush him and squeeze him to my chest. I don’t reply. He’s exhausted and broken and not thinking logically. What he needs is sleep, and I’m going to hold him until he finds it.

We lie there for over an hour before Colson’s breathing finally evens out. I relax beneath him and continue to gently stroke his hair. I lie awake for another half an hour before deciding Colson is definitely asleep, and then I let my tired eyes close, too.

Taglist:@triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen @feroniakutenpuu@hxllywoodwhxree

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 133 - You Will Be Okay

They're able to pull together Jaden's new room relatively quickly. Greta's girlfriend, Chloe, even made his new bed herself. She was a bit kooky, but a good Sim.

The outpouring of love from their friends and family during this trying time really proved how loved they were.

Jaden has been doing… surprisingly well. There have been times where he struggled to adjust, but he's mostly just been happy to be surrounded by his favorite people. Mr. Xander doesn't even get mad when he splashes in the bath. He actually thinks it's kinda funny!

Before bedtime, Ophelia's sure to give their youngest some love.

Ophelia: Oh, Miss Lulu, what a crazy couple of weeks it's been, huh?

Lulu's not going to be an infant for much longer. She's going to get all the baby snuggles she can get before her birthday!

Gemma has been thrilled to have Jaden living with them permanently. She didn't even mind having to give up the playroom if it meant she got to play with Jaden whenever she wanted.

Having Gemma around has made the transition easier for Jaden too.

Gemma was okay about sharing, and she had learned her lesson about being bossy, but Jaden was mostly happy with what she wanted to do. Everything was more fun at the Lemon house! And they never made him go to that place with all the mean kids where he had to wear a suit.

Mr. Xander and Miss Lia got him all kinds of toys, and they let him wear such comfy clothes. No itchy sweaters like he used to have to wear.

His old parents were kind of mean, and the Lemons were so nice… Was it weird that he sometimes still missed his old mommy and daddy?

Jaden slips under the covers, snug as a bug.

Xander: Good night, Jay. You know where to find us if you need anything, okay?

Jaden: 'kay.

Xander tucks him in before turning off the lights. Jaden dozes off, the illumination from his nightlight offering a warm feeling of comfort.

Jaden wakes up after a nightmare. He's in his new room. He's with the Lemons.

So it hasn't been a dream. This is real.

He's never going to see his parents again. They weren't very nice, but they were all he knew.

He loves it here, but he can't help but feel sad.

Ophelia, from years of being a mom, stirs the instant she hears tiny little cries. She looks down at Xander. After all these years, the man still sleeps like a damn rock.

She kisses his forehead and gently scoots out from under him to see what the fuss is about.

Jaden cries and cries, harder than he thinks he's ever cried. His daddy would have yelled at him for crying so much… but his daddy's not here anymore. He's gone. Forever. His mommy, too.

Ophelia comes in and comforts the poor thing. Jaden gladly accepts the comfort.

Jaden: Mommy and Daddy really aren't comin' back?

As if Ophelia's heart wasn't broken enough.

Ophelia: No. I'm so sorry, baby.

Jaden's tiny little hands grip onto Ophelia, as if he thinks she's going to disappear too.

Jaden: Are you gonna go away too?

Ophelia lifts him into her arms, willing herself not to cry.

Ophelia: No, we're not going anywhere. We'll always be here for you Jaden.

She rubs a hand down his back and starts to softly sing, hoping that will comfort him.

🎶𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘐𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯🎶

🎶𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦🎶

🎶𝘈𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺🎶

It takes a lot of singing, and a lot of kisses, but Jaden's sad moodlet eventually goes away.

Jaden was meant to be with this family. He was always supposed to be someplace where he would be given the love he needed and deserved.

He will be okay.

Before she goes to tuck him in again, Jaden has something to tell her.

Jaden: I love you.

Ophelia never thought she would be thankful she met Anna and Calvin Huff, but she'll never be able to thank them enough for giving them Jaden.

Ophelia: I love you too, sweetheart.