#it's very domesticated before the feels trip kicks in

[wistfullydistorted]

i think she's crafty :)

wife!Sevika x reader

no warnings, just fluff + domestic sevika

Crickets taunt you with their joyous chorus, thick summer air suffocating your senses. With a few more disappointingly laborious breaths and heavy steps, you burst through your front door, escaping the weighty twilight. You kick your shoes off before all else, heels aching from a long day at work. 

Ambling toward your bedroom, you toss every unnecessary layer of clothing and accessory onto one surface or another and flop backwards onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling, you finally remember to let out that breath you’d been holding. Work had wrung you dry and hollow, too numb to truly feel the fatigue.

Like an alarm, your hoarse sigh triggers a heavy and hurried shuffle from another room. Sevika emerges from her study wearing a pensive scowl, balancing a sewing pin between her dark lips. Her demeanor softens as she strolls toward the bed, kneeling near your legs. After placing the pin on the nightstand, she grasps both your hands as they lie on either side of you. 

“Babe,” the word just barely peters from her lips. A whisper with the force of a gale. Your greetings required fewer and fewer words over the last few years. Her crinkling silver eyes, earnest stare, and slow grin spoke of your fossilized love. Sevika’s tender gaze and halting appraisal of her wife was nothing if not arousing. Your eyes flutter open and a possessing smile betrays your ever-smitten heart. 

You offer a soft, acknowledging groan. Sevika scoffs and coaxes you off the bed, pulling you to your feet. Traces of jasmine and cigarette smoke embrace you as you collapse into her chest, (mostly) feigning weakness. Bearing most of your weight, she shuffles you into the hallway, pausing to get a good look at your tired eyes.

“Missed you,” her voice croaks, as if left unused for too long. Her eyes were searching.

“I missed you,” you sing. She responds with a reverberating hum and sated grin. Her hands find their fixtures at the curve of your hips and she pulls you into a lulling sway. The two of you dance to the tune of a song unsung, the cadence nonetheless familiar. You exchange breath and for a moment your love lives between you. It leaves a pressure on your chest and steals Sevika’s breath, as you swing in aching tandem. 

She pivots to dip you, catching you off guard. A hiccuping giggle finally escapes your stubborn lips.

“Ah, that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear,” Sevika purrs. “Long day?”

You nod. She takes your hand and leads you to her study. Her study. The one she made you swear to never enter. The very one you ended up lounging in every evening. 

She leads you to your usual plush seat and returns to her work desk. Papers were strewn everywhere to make room for the sizable sewing machine and swaths of fabric lying around. You watch as she slides on her wire frames and flicks on a lamp, hastily reimmersing herself in the mess. 

After a half hour of whispered curses and less than gentle crafting, Sevika turns to you with her toothiest grin. 

“Finished,” she declares. She smuggly presents a creatively altered top from your most recent trip to the thrift store. 

“You didn’t,” you coo, pouting in restrained disbelief.

“I did.”

“Aw… you’re amazing,” the wonder catches in your throat. You cautiously rise from your seat to caress the fabric for only a moment before plunging back into Sevika’s warmth. 

“Can you try it on?” she grunts.

“Tomorrow?” you ask in a muffled whine. She counters with a long-winded sigh.

…

You look up at her with those eyes she can never deny. “First thing tomorrow.”

“I just want you to take me to bed.” And she did.

-

ps. im sorry i didn't really try w the clothing description... :D

[itsnesss]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝 | max verstappen × fem!reader

summary | you watch max become the sweetest, most devoted girl dad

warnings | pure fluff, extreme dad!max softness, baby talk, domestic overload

box | in honor of max already being a dad and will surely be very happy with little lily

🖇️ more mv1 🖇️ f1 masterlist

You wake up before the sun fully rises, as has become the norm since the little one entered your lives. At first, you thought you’d collapse from exhaustion, but now… now it’s different.

You get up with a smile on your lips, even when your eyes sting and your muscles ache. Because you know that in the room next door, a piece of heaven is waiting for you.

But you're not the first to get there this time.

When you open the nursery door, you see him. Max. Sitting in the rocking chair with your baby in his arms, gently swaying her while whispering softly, like he’s sharing a secret only she can hear. He doesn’t notice you at first, too focused on the tiny being he’s holding like she’s made of glass.

“Shhh, prinsesje… papa’s here, always.”

His voice is raspy with sleep, every word soaked in devotion. Something in your chest tightens.

You never imagined Max could be like this. Sweet. Tender. Vulnerable.

He was always intensity, speed, competition. But now, with that baby in his arms, Max is all calm. He’s shelter. He’s home.

You linger in the doorway for a few more seconds, just watching. The way he strokes her cheek with the tip of his finger, how he murmurs in Dutch, saying things only she seems to understand. The tiny pink hat with little ears —the one you knitted yourself— covers her head, and the white onesie with tiny race cars —clearly his choice— is still slightly too big.

Max looks up and sees you.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispers, as if any louder sound might break the magic of this moment.

“It’s okay,” you reply softly, stepping in quietly. “I love catching you two like this.”

The smile he gives you is tired but full of joy. Max looks at you like you’re his favorite person in the world, and you realize you’re now part of something much bigger: a family.

You sit on the edge of the bed, watching them. The baby yawns, stretches slightly, and curls back up against Max’s chest as if she knows there’s no safer place.

“She looks like you,” you say.

He shakes his head, eyes still on her.

“She has your lips. And your lashes. But yeah… I see a bit of myself in her eyes. That determined look. Like she already knows what she wants.”

You chuckle softly. Because it’s true. That baby already has a personality.

“She smiled in her sleep earlier,” Max says with a tenderness you’ve never heard in his voice. “Do you think she was dreaming?”

“Of course,” you whisper. “Probably dreaming you were taking her for a ride in a giant plush Red Bull car or something.”

Max laughs. That deep laugh you love so much. The one that comes from his chest and lights up his whole face.

“Can you imagine when she says her first word? What if it’s ‘dad’?”

“What if it’s ‘mom’?” you tease, pretending to be offended.

“Well, I can live with that. But ‘pole position’ wouldn’t be bad either…”

“Max.”

“I’m kidding! Kind of.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind that only exists when two people understand each other without needing words. Max keeps rocking her, and you rest your head on his shoulder. Your hand brushes against his, and for a moment, the world stops spinning so fast.

“I never thought this… would feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice stripped bare with honesty.

You did. You always knew. From the moment his eyes lit up when he found out he was going to be a dad. From every ultrasound, every little kick, every over-the-top shopping trip filled with pacifiers covered in flags and onesies with the number 1.

Max Verstappen was born to be a girl dad.

And an amazing one at that.

Later, the sunlight spills through the window like a warm caress, and Max is lying on the rug in the unfinished playroom. The baby is on her back, staring at him in fascination while he makes silly noises with a stuffed tire plush.

“Who’s the prettiest princess? You are, yes you. With those little podium cheeks. That tiny champion nose.”

You walk in slowly, your phone camera ready.

“Are you commentating an imaginary Grand Prix for her?”

“She’s the driver, and she just won,” he says, puffing out his chest like it’s his greatest achievement. “Right, sweetheart?”

She kicks her feet excitedly, as if she understands.

“Please don’t nickname her ‘Little Verstappen’ like the media.”

“But it’s adorable!”

“She’s going to be a meme…”

He shrugs.

“If that means the world gets to see how perfect she is, I don’t care.”

You snap a photo just as he kisses her forehead. Max doesn’t notice. He’s too busy holding her tiny hands and telling her that one day, he’ll take her to Monaco and she’ll have her own pink helmet with stars.

And even though it sounds like a fantasy, you know he would do it in a heartbeat.

In the afternoon, while the baby naps against your chest, Max walks in holding a new bottle and looking slightly guilty.

“Another one?”

“I couldn’t resist,” he says sheepishly. “It has little ducks… and says ‘Daddy’s Champion’.”

You raise your eyebrows gently.

“Max…”

“What? They’re cute! Look” he sits beside you "I also got her a onesie with my number on the back. And one with yours, just in case you ever want to race too.”

You laugh. You can’t help it.

“You do realize she has more clothes than I do, right?”

“And I’d do it all again. Ten times over. She deserves the best.”

He looks at you that way that makes the world slow down for a moment.

“You two are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You want to thank him. For being the dad you never expected. For having the patience when you were at your limit. For holding her tight enough to keep the world at bay. For talking to her about engines and speed as if she’s already part of Team Verstappen.

But you don’t need to say it.

Because he already knows.

And in that moment, you do too.

Night falls, and with it, exhaustion. The baby cries and won’t settle. You try rocking, feeding, singing — everything. But she stays restless. Right when you’re about to break down, Max appears with a glass of water and determination in his eyes.

“Give her to me. You need to rest.”

“But”

“Give her to me,” he repeats softly.

He takes her so gently it’s like he’s holding a trophy. You follow him as he walks to the living room, turns on soft music, and starts dancing with her in his arms. Step by slow step. Movements so tender they almost make you cry.

“My mom used to do this with me,” he murmurs. “When nothing else worked.”

And like magic, she quiets down. She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs.

From the hallway, you press a hand to your heart. Because this? This is everything.

Max sways with her, not to show off or to calm her down but simply because in his world, nothing matters more than this moment.

“I’ve never loved like this before,” he says when he sees you there.

“Loved how?”

“With fear. With hope. With everything.”

And you know exactly what he means.

Because since she arrived, your lives flipped upside down. The races, the trophies, the interviews — none of it matters anymore. Only her first steps, her giggles in the bath, the lazy Sundays in pajamas. What matters is watching her grow, safe and happy, knowing she has two people who would give her the world.

Max sits on the couch, her tiny body asleep on his chest. You curl up beside him. The three of you together. And in that warm, quiet silence, you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

In a home built of arms, of gentleness… and love.

Max kisses your forehead, careful not to move too much.

“Thank you for giving me this.”

You squeeze his hand. You don’t need to say anything else.

[pacofprunes]

DARK / TOXIC SQUID GAME REACTIONS TO YOU TRYING TO LEAVE THEM

CONTAINS — namgyu x reader, thanos x reader, myungi x reader, inho x reader, sangwoo x reader, saebyeok x reader

WARNINGS — toxic relationship, domestic violence, baby trapping, manipulation, guilt trip, prepare yourself for namgyus that’s the worst probably, mentions of suicide (thanos)

masterlist

THANOS / PLAYER 230 / CHOI-SUBONG — manipulates you / would let you leave and crawl back to him

doesn’t take it well at all. he’s going to laugh and think you’re joking, but after realizing that you’re not, he’s quickly going to scream at you. telling you that you’ll never find anybody better than him.

“do you really think anybody else will want you? if you leave me you’ll never find anyone else. you’ll never find anybody better!”

he’ll start breaking shit. punching walls, shit, he’ll even break your own phone if it’s in arms reach. if you still insist on leaving he’ll say he’s gonna overdose. he tells you that he’ll kill himself if you step out that door while pressing a blade up to his arm. if all else fails, he’ll totally act like he didn’t just beg you to stay and scream at you to go then and not to come running back.

“fine bitch, go ahead and leave! but don’t come running back to me for nothin’.”

in reality, he’s definitely stalking your socials, making fake accounts you haven’t blocked him on, stalking your friends accounts to see other photos of you, visiting the club every night (not that he didn’t already do that) to try to see if you’d show up. after about a month or so of doing this and going out and fucking other girls to get over you, he can’t do it anymore. he’ll send you some fake heartfelt text that he probably used ai to make and call you while making himself sound like he was crying, trying to make you feel bad and convince you that he’s changed and that he can be a better boyfriend. if you fall for it, you’re doomed. the relationships only going to be a million times worse than before. instead of knocking glass over and breaking shit, he might slap you. in public, he might grip your wrist ten times tighter, scared you’ll run away. when he finally lets go, his fingers will be embedded in your skin. he might even guilt trip you into getting a matching tattoo with him. “if you really loved me and forgave me then you would.”

if you really don’t go back to him though, no matter how many times you block him, you’ll get a new video sent to your phone from some unknown number of him fucking a new girl. he sent you the videos in hopes of making you jealous or something. he’s not going to stop for a long time. if you don’t go back to him, he’s going to harass you for the rest of your life. and if you do go back? you’re in for a world of hell.

NAMGYU / PLAYER 124 — would threaten you, would actually harm you

“you’re one funny bitch. you know how much shit i got on you?”

he finds it admirable, honestly. but still, fucking hilarious, that you, you, think you can leave him. what? when did you grow some balls? yeah, no. you just hurt his ego and that’s about the stupidest thing you could ever do to him. he’s not very empty with his threats. if he says he’s leaving? he’ll leave. (for like a week…) if he says he’s gonna hit you? you’re gonna be bruised for a while. if he says he’s gonna kill you? well, you haven’t gotten to that point yet. but keep this up and you sure will.

he keeps every nude and threatens to release it. sure you’re his and all, but that doesn’t stop him. so what if some other guy sees your body? he could care less. now if another guy touches you? let’s not think about what would happen. threatens to send the pictures to your family and threatens to send every sex tape of you two that he filmed behind your back.

“what the fuck is wrong with you namgyu? when the fuck did you film that?”

don’t raise your voice at him. once he hits you and you fall to the ground, he’ll keep kicking at you with his foot over and over until he thinks you’ve had enough. don’t speak up to him, don’t speak against him, and don’t piss him off. just sit there and be pretty, okay? he’s going to be bolder now. next time you two have sex he’s just going to shove the camera in your face. he’s going to manipulate and force you to take nudes for him since you don’t want to anymore after he threatened to send them out. sometimes he’ll force you to strip and then he’ll just take the pictures himself. all in all, sometimes he might just say no and leave it at that. but if you keep pushing, he’s going to threaten you. and if you still keep pushing, he’s going to go through with those threats. you really are just some whore to him, don’t think he’s above killing you.

MYUNGI / PLAYER 333 / MG COIN ★— would let you leave and crawl back to him (except he’s the one who crawls back), babytrapping

“really? fine, if that’s what you want then leave.”

he acts like he doesn’t care because he thinks his annoyance will make you turn right back around to him. he acts like he doesn’t care because he’s trying to not get so bent out of shape about it and move on quickly. but when he hears your footsteps disappear and the door shut, he immediately balls up his fists. you seriously left? he didn’t expect that, but whatever. he doesn’t need you.

he tries to move on but after barely even a week, he can’t do it. he contacts you, but when you block him, he makes more and more numbers. he thought you’d be running back to him, not the opposite. he sends you pictures of you two together in hopes you’d change your mind, but when you just keep blocking him, he’s knocking on your door demanding you open it up. he tries being nice but when you don’t open it, he starts banging on the door. really? you’d been together for months and you’d already gotten over him? no. no no no. you don’t get to just move on! what the hells wrong with you? when you still don’t open the door, he leaves and goes back to his place and sits on his bed while he ponders his next move. he decides for now just to stalk your page and harass you from more and more numbers. he’s not going to stop until you at least respond. oh, you’re gonna get a restraining order? you’re funny. you think that’ll stop him? don’t go back to him. if for some reason you give in, the next time that you two have sex, he’s going to make sure that you can’t leave. he’s sure that you’ll look so pretty with your stomach swelled up.

INHO / YOUNGIL / PLAYER 001 — straight up says no / baby traps / makes you feel like you’re going crazy

straight up, no. you want to leave? no. he doesn’t even care for an explanation on why, you’re not leaving. completely ignores your words and changes the whole topic. everytime you try to say you’re leaving he just completely overrides you with something different.

“inho, i’m serious. i’m leaving you! i’m packing my shit right now and i’m not coming back, i swear to you.”

“what did you want for dinner again? i have to go back out to get some groceries so there’s not too much…”

maybe it’s on purpose, maybe it’s not. but it makes you feel like you’re losing your mind. then he will deliberately go out of his way to make it seem like you’re crazy.

“i’m leaving because of what you’ve been doing behind my back, inho. it’s fucked up and you’re insane.”

“baby, you could follow me around tomorrow. i’ve got no idea what you mean.”

and he says it all with that stupid small polite smile that he gives everyone. you just want to strangle him. if somehow he can get you in bed with him after you just got so pissed, he’ll be more passionate than ever. he’ll treat you nice, focus on your pleasure before his and then quickly when you’re blissed out, he’ll pull out of you, slip the condom off and slide right back in. you don’t notice at all, but he makes sure to tell you like the cocky fuck he is. but he does it while he’s thrusting and when you can tell he’s about to cum. poor you, it’s too late to stop him :(.

“i’m about to fuck a baby in you — agh, i — i took the condom off. gonna have a beautiful—fuck—fucking baby with you.”

how could you leave now? do you have enough money to take care of a child without him? and would you really deprive your child of their father? you’ll get an abortion? he’ll find a way to keep you locked up in your house. you’re still going to leave? he’s going to guilt trip you to the max. and if that still fails? once again, he’s just going to find a way to keep you locked up in your house. he’ll figure it out as you go on, but for now, have your happy little family with him.

KANG SAE-BYEOK — straight up says no

she’s not going to entertain you at all. she might not even say no, opting to just stay silent instead. if you get in her face about it because she’s ignoring you, she’s just going to push you away. if you keep nagging her about it, she’s going to slap you. if you decide not to drop it, she’ll drag you by your hair and lock you in a room. are you stupid? don’t start this shit first thing in the morning.

“saebyeok, this isn’t working. we should go our separate ways.”

“no. did you hit your head or something?”

you should just drop it and move on with your day. nothing you say is going to convince her and if you piss her off too much, like said before, she’s just going to lock you away until you stop sounding ‘crazy’. she’s very cold, but she’s generally pretty nice to you still though. she’s a good girlfriend to you, just a little possessive, but it’s never gotten out of control. you just didn’t think the relationship was working and that it just wasn’t the right time. all in all, if you don’t push to much, you won’t see the shitty side of her that she never shows you. however, if you keep pushing the idea, she’s going to give you a real reason to break up with her.

SANGWOO — would let you leave and crawl back to him

“you want to break up? fine.”

it leaves you shocked at the sound of him not caring. it was as simple as that. you want to break up? bye then bitch! it hurt. it almost made you want to change your mind and say never mind and just stay with him, and that’s exactly what he wanted. that’s exactly why he said it like that. but that didn’t work and you just walked out the door. that’s fine though, you’d come back to him, he knows it.

he makes sure to post old photos of you two on his Instagram. not ones with your face in it, duh, but he posts the photos that you took of him where you’re behind the camera or ones where your arm or your hand is slightly showing. he knows you still stalk his socials. he’s posting these knowing that it’s going to hurt your little heart and make you crawl right back. he leaves every photo of you two up on every platform, not deleting a single thing. for a little while, he even keeps his pfp the same. you two holding hands. whenever he posts something, he always makes sure to put something in the caption that he knows you love. you liked tulips? he’ll put a tulip emoji in the caption. you loved cats? he’ll put a cat emoji in his bio. all these subtle things where you won’t know he’s doing it on purpose, but it’ll be so much of a coincidence that you’ll think this is a sign to run back to him.

he’ll tell his friends to ask about him to you whenever they talk with you.

“how are you and sangwoo doing?”

“oh he talks about you all the time.”

he tells them to act like they don’t know that the two of you have broken up. he makes sure to get in your head and eventually? you’ll come running back. if for some reason you don’t, he might have to pull some strings. spread some rumors about you so that your friends want nothing to do with you and so all that you have to run to for comfort is him.

[reidsaurora]

Your event is so cute!!! Could I get a sun kissed Malibu dream house with Aaron?? 🥹 in need of some fluff with him hehe

i am so so sorry this took me so long to write! writer's block these past few months has been kicking my butt. but, thanks to my awesome betas, i think i wrote something you'll like! hope you enjoy!

"Summer Lovin" ~ A. Hotchner

Summary: As the start of summer arrives, you and your friends at the BAU find yourselves feeling a bit reminiscent of the summers before. Along with that reminiscence, you start to miss the days when you and Aaron had little babies instead of big kids…

Pairing: Dad!Aaron Hotchner x Mom!Reader

Word Count: 2,019

Content Warning: lots of talk of babies/pregnancy, sexual humor, kind of fade to black smut if you read between the lines lol, small mention of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: i'm so sorry this took so long, i had a very hard time writing this and def meant to post it sooner. however, in the spirit of my city being under a heat advisory today, this feels appropriate to post 😂

Originally Written: 06/04/2024 through 06/25/2024

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold and @virtual-vivi 🫶🏻🩷

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Summer Celebration info can be found here!

Sun Kissed - fluff requests

Malibu Dream House - domestic!au

Aaron tossed off the blanket, letting out a small sigh of relief. “When did it get so hot?” he grumbled, his morning voice prominent. As he rolled over to his back, you spotted a big wet spot on the front of his tee shirt from just how much he was sweating.

Still, you scooted closer to him anyway and tossed an arm over his abdomen, his familiar scent filling your senses. “News said there’d be an excessive heat wave today.”

“It's probably ninety degrees already,” he complained, “and it's not even 9:00 yet.”

Rolling onto your side to face him, you left a trail of kisses along his jawline. “Hey, Mr. Grumpy Gills,” you giggled, referencing one of your kids’ favorite movies. “When life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?”

“It's sweltering! How in the world could you possibly want to cuddle right now?” Aaron ignored your attempt to brighten the mood, instead opting to toss a pillow over his head and groan into it.

You just pulled the pillow away and left another peck on his jaw. “Because I love you. And because our children are gonna come in here any minute to take you away from me.”

He noticed the small pout that followed your statement, the expression enough to soften even Aaron Hotchner, king of stoicism, up. “Alright, fine. I'll allow it. But only because you drive a hard bargain.”

Your pout was replaced with a smirk as you snuggled closer into his side. “Mmm, that means a lot, coming from an ex-prosecutor. Maybe I should've gone to law school with you.”

“You're too sensitive for the big house, or whatever they say,” Aaron snickered. After noticing your look of offense, he quickly covered with, “I didn't mean it in a bad way. You have feelings. It's a very nice thing to come home to after dealing with emotionless psychopaths all day.”

“I think you're trying to compliment me. I'll take it.”

His lips met yours for a quick peck before saying, “I have nothing but compliments for you, my love,” Then, he met you with a second, much longer kiss, and while he tasted like morning breath, moments like this were so rare that you were willing to look past it.

One of his large hands met your leg, his calloused fingertips trailing along your bare skin. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been like this, with two children always needing your attention and the FBI always needing Aaron's. Just a simple touch of his fingers had you forgetting about the outside world, if even for just a moment.

Your lips met his neck, his stubble scratchy against your skin. He'd been away on a case in Seattle for about a week, and you were certain he hadn't shaved the whole trip. You liked it that way anyway.

His hand traveled further up under your nightgown, settling on your thigh. He squeezed the supple skin, a gesture of both affection and want.

“Are you trying to go for number three?” you joked before kissing his neck once more.

“Believe me,” Aaron chuckled, “if I knew I had enough time, I'd certainly try.”

As if on cue, four scurrying feet came stamping across the hardwood floor into your bedroom. “Good morning, Daddy!” both of your children yelled in sync, climbing onto the edge of the bed.

“That's why you're not allowed a third,” you mumbled into his ear. “The ones you have don't even appreciate me.”

“They love you, I promise,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. To the kids, he said, “Good morning. Don't you have anything else you want to say?”

They both turned to you, sheepish looks coming across their tiny, adorable faces. “Good morning, Mommy.”

“That's better,” Aaron said, gaining him a snicker from you. “Now, may I ask why the two of you are up so early and you're already in your swimsuits?”

It was then that you realized he was right. Jack, the older of your children, was sporting his favorite Spiderman swim trunks, while his little sister, Libby, had managed to dress herself in a cherry-print swimsuit she hadn't quite grown into yet. They made your heart melt.

“Daddy,” Libby sighed, clearly exasperated with her father, “don't you know what day it is?”

It happened to be the day your kids hadn't stopped talking about for weeks: the beginning-of-summer pool party you and Aaron threw every year for your friends and his coworkers at the BAU.

Aaron tapped a finger against his chin, his brows furrowing as he thought. “Let's see… it's not Libby’s birthday, and it's not Jack’s birthday, it's not my birthday, and I don't think it's your mom’s birthday,” his last comment earned him a sarcastic look from you. “Hmm, what day could it be?”

You joined in on his little game, tapping against your chin as you pretended to think. “Perhaps it's Christmas?”

Jack narrowed his eyes at you. “It's too early in the year for Christmas,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You're right.” As you continued tapping your finger, you shot Aaron a knowing look, which he gladly returned. He could tell by the gleam in your eye exactly what you meant with that look. “Is it…”

Each of you grabbed a kid, tickling and eliciting little squeals and giggles. “Pool party day?!” the two of you shouted in sync.

Libby thrashed around in your arms, laughing and squirming, while Jack attempted to escape his father's arms. Moments like these were almost as rare as the ones with just you and Aaron, so you had to take advantage of them while you could.

“It's pool party day!” Libby squeaked, while Jack was laughing so hard, he could barely breathe.

Their smiles and laughs pulled at your heartstrings. You wondered when the universe decided to make your babies grow up, since it seemed like only yesterday when you had a newborn and a two-year-old.

Bringing yourself out of your nostalgic trance, you pulled yourself out of the bed, grabbing each kid by the hand. “Who wants to make pancakes while Daddy’s in the shower?”

—

Soon enough, all your friends had arrived and it felt like summer had too. Penelope and Spencer were currently entertaining all the kids, while the other men were crowded around the grill and the rest of the ladies were sitting poolside and working on their tans.

“You ever wonder if either of them will have kids?” JJ asked, nodding toward Penelope and Spencer.

“Spencer, a hundred percent,” Emily answered, like her statement was a fact. “Penelope, I'm not so sure.”

You were next to jump into the conversation, not even bothering to look up from your magazine. “Why do you ask, Jen?”

JJ let out a longing sigh. “It's been so long since we've had a baby around here.”

Putting the magazine down, you looked over to her, eyebrows creased. “Henry's only three. It hasn't been that long.”

“You don't miss having a baby at our get-togethers? Emily, where do you stand?”

“Don’t look at me,” Emily said with wide eyes. “If I didn't have to change another diaper for a lifetime, it still wouldn't be long enough.” She was the one person in the group that was rather indifferent to children, but babies, she'd rather not talk about or be around.

“Yeah, babies are nice,” you said, “but the pregnancy part? That's what I'd rather go a lifetime without.”

“Well, I'm sure there's one thing we can all agree on,” JJ snickered. “At least making the baby is fun.”

Emily tossed the pillow behind her back in the direction of her coworker, giggling all the while. “Jennifer!”

“What?” she laughed as she swatted the pillow away. “Am I wrong?”

You let out a small snicker yourself, shooting a glance in the direction of your husband, who was currently taking his turn in manning the grill.

Neither of your friends missed that look, both their mouths falling agape at the expression. “Spill!” they squealed in sync.

Penelope made her way over from the edge of the pool, her face overtaken by the brightest smile known to mankind. “I heard the ‘Someone has beans to spill’ variety of squeals and giggles. What am I missing?”

“Nothing,” you insisted with an eye roll.

Emily patted the edge of her chaise, welcoming Penelope over. “Come sit, we're gonna get it out of her. After all, two out of three of us are profilers.”

Your eyes narrowed at the brunette. “Do you forget that I also used to be a profiler before my kids came along?”

“Stop changing the subject,” Penelope said with a swat of her hand. “Spill your guts. What did I miss?”

“Well, we were talking about how it's been so long since anyone on the team, past or present, has had a kid,” Jennifer explained.

“And someone looked at her husband with that look,” Emily further explained.

You scoffed. “It was not that look.”

“It totally was,” your friends spoke in sync.

Penelope's face lit up like a child in a candy store, her mind clearly running rampant with ideas of what the look meant. “Oh my God, are you-”

“No!” you quickly interrupted, knowing exactly where that question was headed. “Not yet anyway,” you mumbled under your breath.

The three of them practically jumped out of their seats and gathered around you, all screams and smiles.

“We haven't even had the conversation yet!”

“But you're going to!” Penelope insisted.

You rolled your eyes, but internally, you couldn't be happier for the gift of friendship from these three women. Jennifer, the mom friend in more ways than one. Emily, the voice of reason who not-so-secretly had a funny side and always knew how to make you laugh. And Penelope, the perfect shoulder to cry on and perfect soul to confide in. Lucky didn't even begin to describe how you felt about knowing these women.

Suddenly, you found yourself— as Penelope had said— spilling your guts. “I don't know. This morning just felt… different. Like, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another baby around.”

The three of them flooded you with comments of love and support, hugs wrapping around you from each direction. Having another baby would be different, of course, but your friends were making sure that you knew it would be a good kind of different.

“I still have to get Aaron on board, so no one get too excited,” you reminded them.

JJ was already way ahead of you. “We've got the kids, Rossi and Derek have the grill. Don't worry about anything out here. You and your man deserve a moment of free time.”

“Just so we're clear,” you said, pointing a finger as if to further prove your point, “we are just going to talk. No funny business.”

Emily snickered. “Yeah, the same way you guys used to ‘talk’ on the jet?” Your cheeks heated to a bright red shade at her comment.

“Ew, Hotch is in the mile high club?!” Penelope practically screamed. Luckily, everyone else seemed too engrossed in conversation to hear her, but you were still mortified nonetheless.

“Okay, scratch what I said. I'm actually going inside to give myself a lobotomy.”

And with that, your friends were shouting in sync different variations of “Have fun!”

Then, with a smile on your face from both the joy of friendship and the love you had for your husband, you found yourself heading over to the grill and pulling Aaron away. His reaction was nothing short of laughter as you practically dragged him toward the house, his shirt nearly coming off with how hard you were tugging it.

Lips met skin as you closed the back door behind you. Aaron let out another chuckle, though he surely wasn't protesting your affection. “Woah, that look in your eyes tells me you're the one thinking about number three,” he commented, referencing your words from that morning.

“Well,” you said as your fingers started to trail under the hem of his dark gray tee shirt. With another kiss to his neck, you continued, “About that…”

taglist: @1234-angelika @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @the-lucky-ones311 @mercuryvapours @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @paintlavillered @lavhoes @rhyanishere @danielle143 @handsupforamiracle @ah-blossom @reidselle @dungeons-are-too-cold @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @cwritesforfun @lover-of-books-and-tea

[juviabrainrot]

drunkenly, yours - nalu work count: 966, sort of proofread a/n: i miss u domestic nalu i miss u soooo much

Lucy stumbled through the streets of Magnolia back to her apartment, liquor clouding her vision and making her double-guess if she was going the correct way. At the moment, she had too much to drink and too little intellect. She had entertained Cana in what she thought would be “light drinking”, but after her fourth drink, she realized that wasn’t the case.

After multiple wrong turns, Lucy somehow found herself turning onto Strawberry Street, her apartment in sight. Now smiling and giggling with glee that she managed to find her way home, she not-so-gracefully skipped to the building, not phased by the fact that the lights in her apartment were on despite no one being home. 

Tripping up the steps and fumbling with her keys, the blonde successfully found her way back to her abode. Lucy kicked off her shoes and wobbled through the lit apartment, oblivious to who was there.

“Hey Luce,” said a familiar voice, which nearly scared her to death despite the soothing tone. Looking over to find the origin of the voice, she noticed Natsu lying on her couch. He had a small ball in his hand, which she assumed he was tossing (even though she had gotten onto him multiple times about it), and his signature grin was written on his face. Something bubbled in her stomach, and she wasn’t sure if it was love or the liquor. 

“Hi Natsu,” she giggled, not even bothered by the fact that he’d let himself in without her being there, “I missed you tonight.”

“I missed you, too,” he said. 

Making her way around the couch, she stumbled onto it and fell right into him. Natsu instantly wrapped his welcoming arms around her, taking her in and making her feel at home. Lucy purred as she entangled herself in his warmth, nuzzling into his neck and peppering it with light kisses. 

“You reek,” said Natsu, face contorting with slight disgust. 

Lucy lifted her head and sniffed herself, letting out a pitiful groan as she realized she smelled like straight booze. 

“Don’t worry,” Natsu reassured, rubbing her sides, “I can help you.” 

“I’d appreciate it,” Lucy said as she lazily got up, Natsu’s arms flailing back to his sides. 

He followed her to the bathroom and helped her get undressed as the steamy water ran in the tub. Now naked, Lucy entered the hot water with Natsu’s assistance and let out a sigh of satisfaction. Sinking herself into the comfort of the water, she smiled at Natsu as he sat in front of the tub with a bottle of her vanilla body wash in one hand and a loofah in the other. 

“I know you want to get into the tub with me, Natsu,” she teased. 

“Just turn around and let me wash your back, Luce.” 

Lucy pouted as he blatantly ignored her teasing. Instead of complying with him, she hurled herself in his direction and smothered him with her wet body. 

“C’mon, join me, Natsu!” she snickered, just inches away from his face. Their chests were smooshed together, along with her arms slung over his shoulders, not caring as she was actively soaking his clothes. He huffed as he removed both her from his body and his wet top. Lucy frowned as she was shunned by her boyfriend, not aware because of her drunken state that it was because she was indeed very much soaked, and not because he ‘hated her’. 

“Fine then. I didn’t know my boyfriend hates me,” she whined, tears pricking at the corners of her chocolate colored eyes. He rolled his own onyx colored eyes at her dramaticism of the situation. 

“I don’t hate you, Lucy,” he said, squirting the soap onto the loofah and rubbing it together to get it sudsy, “I just want to get you to bed as soon as possible. I know how tired you must be.” 

Lucy stopped her pouting and looked at him, lips quivering and eyes full of a newfound affection. He was right, she was exhausted. She just wanted to spend as much time with Natsu before she would eventually succumb to slumber. 

“Okay,” she said, turning and now complying with his previous request. 

“Okay,” he repeated. 

Natsu cleaned her from head to toe, making sure that there was no smelling evidence of her previous activities left on her. After, he helped her get dressed and took her to her bed. Before he let himself embrace her, he got her a glass of water and made sure she knew it was on the side table next to them.

Finally, climbing into bed, he wrapped one arm around her slender waist and pulled her into him as she adjusted her head to rest on his other arm. He sank his face into the back of her head and smelled her freshly cleaned blonde hair as she pushed her back farther into his chest. 

“Natsu?”

“Yeah, Luce?” 

“I love you.”

He felt his face heat up at her softly spoken words, even though she’d told him this multiple times before. Nonetheless, the words still made his heart flutter. He nuzzled his face into the back of her neck and left an open-mouthed kiss there while he rested his calloused hand on her stomach underneath her shirt. 

“I love you more,” he said, rubbing his thumb against her tummy lovingly. 

“Impossible,” she muttered, now dozing off. 

All he could do was chuckle in response. He knew if he were to shoot a rebuttal back at her, he’d only be speaking to himself since she would soon be fast asleep. 

As annoying as Lucy may be when she’s drunk, and as much as he hates hearing her vomit early in the morning, Natsu still appreciates these uncommon nights.

She’s drunk on liquor, he’s drunk on her.

©juviabrainrot - please do not copy/repost any of my work on any platform <3

[fruitiesss]

quick Frank Castle x fem reader where his girl has naturally curly hair and he is very invested in the maintenance of her hair from picking up the products she uses on a shopping trip to helping massage curl cream into her hair please?

Also gave you a follow. You are absolutely amazing!

OMG HELLO :D hello hello hello tysm <3<3 I love this, the idea of domestic Frank is just so appealing, plus curly hair is so hard to maintain. I have 2b hair and it's difficult so I could never imagine how hard it is with anything more. I hope I did it justice :D may have written too much but I just started writing and blacked out. I hope you like it ^^ tags: domestic frank, fem!reader, established relationship, i'm telling you his hands are so big they are paws, my work is never proofread

w/c: about 600

As he entered your shared apartment, Frank kicked his shoes off at the door and set the grocery bag down at the kitchen table, sighing when some of the items spilled over from the bag. Frank was enthralled with everything you did, especially the way you took care of yourself, it was all so foreign to him yet he was enamoured with it. He'd always been serious about getting you the products you like every time, the specific brand of shampoo, even toothpaste, he'd go the extra mile to make sure everything was the way you liked it.

That was why he left you in bed this morning. He knew you were running out of a few products you used day to day so he created a list on the phone you'd insisted he had to get and headed to the store for what you needed, as well as the food he planned to cook for you that night.

Picking up the spilled items, he got to putting everything away, setting the various bottles on the kitchen island before you emerged form your shared room. His face broke into a grin once he saw you.

"Mornin', princess." Frank spoke, voice gruff and low. He moved around the island to take your hand in his, twirling you around briefly before holding you against him. "Sleep well?"

You removed your silk bonnet and set it on the island beside the both of you, bringing your hands up to pinch his cheeks briefly. "Would have been better to wake up next to my boyfriend." Your lips formed an exaggerated pout, letting his face go. "Where've you been?"

"Was only gone for a few minutes, doll. Got ya cream and everything for later." He grinned, gently combing his fingers through your delicate curls. "Can't have my girl stressin' about it."

Your smile lit up his heart and the thank you that left your lips gave him everything he needed in return for that small favour.

Later on, Frank met you in the bedroom with the cream in hand, having left the food to simmer on the stove. He leaned against the doorway for a moment, his arm resting just above him as he watched you dry yourself off. He only spoke up as you started to separate your hair into sections, moving so he was behind you and muttering, "C'mon, let me do it this time, doll."

You stood up straight and let your hands rest by your sides as Frank's significantly larger ones slowly started to massage your scalp, getting lost in the feeling as your eyes fluttered shut. Frank chuckled and took one hand away, squirting some of the product onto his fingers and massaging your head with the other one as he worked the cream into your hair. His fingers worked with practised precision as he scrunched your hair and twirled them into curls. He'd make small comments here and there, complimenting your hair, your face, your body. He chuckled when your face heated up from his compliments.

"Your hair's so pretty, darl'." He grumbled, finishing with the last of your curls before heading into the bathroom to clean the residue from his hands. His voice echoed as he continued. "All of you's so pretty. Beautiful."

You never knew this tough, dangerous man could be so sweet to someone like you.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

AAA I really love your alastor movie night story! Any chance you can make a part 3 ? 🥺

Absolutely! so sorry i got to you late but i wasn’t ignoring just preparing! i hope you enjoy this one too, although it’s not movie centred this time, rather a continuation of the last!

Part [1] [2] (although technically it could be read as a stand alone)

Summary: Alastor wasn’t proud of his admission during the movie night, instead he decided to treat you to a surprise date, one where he can get a better feeling on what his emotions are.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol drinking, Alastor who’s not pleased with romantic emotions, possibly ooc?, alastor mentions knowing french, homie manipulates the surroundings with his magic, no bodytype/hairtype/skin colour mentions, i think that’s it! lmk!

word count: 2.4k

Alastor wasn’t too familiar with the current feeling he was experiencing, but he knew it was related to romance. The way his heart thumped, and his mind always seemed to fall back to thought of you that night. You seemed to be highly interested in him, not only as a powerful overlord, but as his less interesting mortal self, and that made not only his ego kick start but his heart. After the stunt he pulled, telling you he loved you, and kissing you softly, he knew he was in trouble.

He thanked all the unholy that the next day you didn’t seem to spread the news like wildfire around the hotel, however he did speak to Rosie about such affairs, as she would be the one to know best. The trip was like any others he took to Rosie’s but this time he got plentiful advice concerning love, romance, dates and the other unsavoury aspects he mentioned he’d rather hear little of.

That brought him to tonight, in his room was a make up of land that was much like the foliage he had back in his home in New Orleans. Since you seemed very interested in his home life, he decided to set up a date around it, show you a little of what his home was like. It made him feel sickeningly domestic, preparing to show you something near and dear to his heart, like opening up his memories and displaying them just for you. He set up nice wood table for the two of you to eat at, with some of his favourite dishes set out, even the deserts he wasn’t a fan of he laid out just in case you wanted to try some.

Around his room sprung up some weeping willow trees, the wooden floor turned to dirt as well as grass, and the forest that was once there became a bayou, what you were so curious about during the movie. He decided to share some of his other past, voodoo artifacts he replicated from his past life, some old songs he was a big fan of, as well as one of his old dictionaries that had both French and English. Alastor made some other arrangements, his shadows were forced to play jazz, he magicked some fireflies to light up the false sky above, he essentially created an illusion of the woods near his home, aside from the bayou.

Closing the door to his bedroom he materialised his microphone tossing it up once before taking a confident stride. It was time to put on the southern charm he knew he could effortlessly woo you with. As he sauntered down the hall he began to get more nervous, after all that night was all about the movie, what if it wasn’t true what you had said?

He didn’t have time to dwell, lifting his hand he knocked rhythmically on your door, waiting patiently as you shuffled around. Opening the door, you were shocked to trail your eyes across the radio demon, you half expected to see Angel, as he’s been pestering you ever since he picked up on you eyeing Alastor more often. Fixing your posture you smiled at him, feeling a little self conscious that he caught you at a time you looked, well, not great. You were in leisure clothes, relaxed and had been laying in bed all day.

“How’re you Alastor, can I help ya?” You ask, quirking your head to the side. Alastor barged into your room pushing past you, perhaps when you first met him you’d be unsettled but you’ve come to love Alastor’s presence and the way he carried himself; even the tad bit annoying aspects like barging in uninvited. “Oh my dear I am just fantastical! And I was oh so hoping you’d join me for dinner tonight?” Your eyebrows raised as you shut the bedroom door, Alastor had been in your room before but he noted little upgrades like a record player, some photos of you and the group plastered against a mirror.

You looked down at your attire, and looked to the clock. “Uhm, like how soon is dinner? I look a mess Al.” You sighed softly not wanting to reject him but also immediately feeling pressure to be and look your best. Alastor flicked his wrist, tossing his head back in disbelief. “Please my dear don’t think of me so lowly.” Before you can respond to his random comment he snapped his fingers and suddenly you body felt hugged by new fabrics. Gazing down at yourself you were greeted by formal garments that were clearly from the late nineteen twenties.

Smiling softly at the gesture you looked up at Al who was already looking at you through lidded eyes, his hands clasped in front of him. “You look wonderful darling, truly.” Although still boisterous sounding, it was a lot more tame and meaningful than his prior theatrics. Alastor couldn’t deny the way he felt looking at you doused in clothes from his time, it made him feel something firey within him. Slowly he offered his hand to you, a charming smile upon his face. “Shall we dear?”

Now you both stood at Alastor’s bedroom door, he was tense and nervous about how you’d react. Regardless of how he presented himself with his suit and his pious demeanour, he was still that louisiana man who had a big heart for his home and the culture surrounding it and didn’t want judgement surrounding some of his favourite aspects about home like the cricket noises, swamp, and of course the food. It was a new and interesting worry since being in hell as he didn’t really worry about his past life since, but the night you two shared opened his eyes.

Finally pulling himself together Alastor pushed opened the bedroom door, stepping aside with a ‘ladies first’. It was gorgeous, the moment you walked it you were hypnotized. Obviously, Alastor grew up in the more outback of New Orleans since his entire aesthetic was mossy forests and obviously the deer hunting, however this was a beauty beyond compare. There was a mock up night sky above, firefly’s lit the way to a small table displayed with foods. There was tall and short grass all around, as well as willow trees that sagged low dusting the ground with their leaves. On the furthest side of the room, on the other side of the table, there was a bayou you could see as you walked in. On the mossy murky water there were lilipads with frogs croaking out, that paired with the crickets gave a soothing camp like ambiance.

Grinning widely, Alastor smiled, pulling your chair out for you to sit. Once seated he sat across from you, you were glad it wasn’t one of those long tables but something closer and personal, where you could still reach over and touch him. “I thought since you seemed to enjoy that movie so much, y’know, I can’t show you my home but i can show you parts of it.”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, you had no idea how he did it, and you took another sweep around the room soaking up all that you could see. “Alastor, this is amazing! I can’t express my gratitude and also excitement that you were willing to do all this.” You admit getting shyer as the sentence went on; the weight of the act dawning on you. Alastor hummed, eyes closed as well as his smile, and to you it seemed like his typical indifference he was keen on displaying, however the truth was Alastor had no clue how to properly respond to it. You had inadvertently pointed out the fact he went out of his way for you, with his magic on top of that, and that wasn’t something he was proud of.

Snapping his fingers, the shadows he’d forced into musicians began their strumming, and singing. You jumped a bit at the sound, although you did recognize the song being played, which surprised you. “So Al, can I ask what possessed you to pull this together?” Alastor, who was in the middle of serving the two of you some red wine, paused briefly, if you looked close enough at his smile and his eyes you’d be able to see the hesitancy behind them.

Closing the bottle he placed it back on the table, and took a sip, stalling his response. “My dear, we had quite the night together didn’t we? That movie opened up some interesting doors.” The non answer-answer Alastor gave you made you a tad bit nervous. Saying nothing you sipped your wine, and took in his appearance. Despite the date being a formal situation, he was dressed more relaxed, not by much this was Alastor. However he did have his suit jacket set aside, he wore a washed out looking red button up, with his red vest and he still had his tie on. It was quite the rare sight, you’ve barely seen him look normal, he’s always playing that character that’s immune to everything others aren’t; no matter if it were demons or humans.

Deciding that it was better to enjoy your time with him then pester about his intentions; you knew who Alastor was and the horrific things he could do, and you still chose to ignore it. It’s more fun that way. Digging into your food the two of you made small talk, mainly Alastor as he explained certain dishes and tid bits on his mothers version of the cooking, as well as certain voodoo topics and misconceptions. The longer the wine set in, the more you flirted, and although Alastor wasn’t as affected by the wine as you were, he still returned the gestures with a soft smile.

“I didn’t know you spoke french, what?” You leaned on the table resting the side of your head on your palm, the food that was once on the table gone. “Yes my dear! New Orleans is bilingual.” The deer laughed cheerily at the awe and wonder in your eyes, as if it was such a spectacular thing. “That’s pretty hot, y'know laddies n lads love the french language.” Taking another sip of your wine, Alastor followed in suit, sipping his wine smile relaxed. “I really only care for what you think.” With the deep hushed tone he said the sentence in, made heat crawl from your neck to the pit of your stomach. “Well I think it’s pretty hot.”

You bit your nail watching Alastor’s ears twitch at your words. “Such gamy words dear, couldn’t you express yourself through more appropriate terms?” Alastor chided playfully, wiggling his figure at you. You grinned, biting your lip with mischief in mind. Tapping your lip, you looked up, giving an exaggerated impression that you were in a contemplative state. Then, perking up, finger in the air with a ‘light bulb’ expression you sarcastically spoke. “My dearest Alastor, your ability to converse in French, seduces me. Better?”

Alastor hummed gently, shaking his head side to side. “I’m afraid that’s still rather forward of you dear.” After speaking Alastor tipped his glass finishing his wine. “I hope that wasn’t making you uncomfortable.” You say cautiously worried that he may be serious, embarrassed you leaned back in your seat distancing yourself just slightly. Alastor felt a ping of distaste hit him when you retracted your body, and he had to refrain himself from pulling or beckoning you back in. “Not at all, if i was you’d surely know.” The ominous grit he got when threatening people made an appearance, but didn’t last long before he relaxed. Deciding to push forward, he stood, ushering his shadows away from playing songs, he walked over to you offering his arm. “Would you like to see the bayou you were so enthralled with? The real deal?”

Alastor looked down at you through lidded eyes, his tone silken. As you looked up at him you could get a peek of his tail flicking back and forth methodically. Taking him by the arm you stood, and so he guided you away from the table as the room morphed with hazy black shadows into a different scene. The two of you now stood on a dock, looking out on the bayou, fireflies flickered by, crickets and cicadas made their ambient noises, the water would occasionally splash with a fish, it was beautiful. “So Al,” You start nervously, looking at the demon who still held you close via your interlocked arms.

Alastor hummed a static sounding hum looking down at you. “Uh, I, well remember what you said the night we split from the movie?” Alastor’s brow quirked, smirked down at you he strung out a yes that sounded teasing, of course he knew where this conversation was going, but at this point in the night he’d gotten more comfortable with the idea of it. “I was wondering, if you still meant it?” Alastor nodded slowly looking into the murky waters of the bayou, looking a little zoned out. “Yes, I do think so. I’m certain if you’d ask me to kill for you I would, if you needed my help I’d help, if you’d ask for my advice I’d give it. I'm not familiar with many aspects of love but I'm definitely fond enough of you to do a laundry list of things I wouldn't do for others.”

Alastor turned his body to you, gently willing your own to do the same with both his hands on your shoulders. With his head lifted high he looked down at you through his lashes, a coy smile appearing on his lips at the sight of your sudden bashfulness. With a soft hand, he lifted your chin to gaze at him. As much as he hated to admit it, there was something addictive in the way you made him feel and the way you were so responsive to him, be it his touch or his words. Oh he knew he liked you now, unfortunate state of events for him.

Watching your eyes blink up at him patiently made him solidify what he was going to do. Bending to your level, he looked into your eyes making sure you fully understood what he was planning on doing, briefly your eyes bounced around his face making sure you were reading him correctly and when you were certain your eyes fluttered he closed the window of space between you. Compared to the chaste kiss he gave you the night of the movie, this one could’ve been considered ravenous, he pulled you close almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your torso and neck. Your hands cautiously came up around his waist and up to his back pulling him nearer.

Alastor’s movements were slow and thought through, and when he pulled away from the passionate kiss, he immediately pulled you into a hug to hide the emotion he knew would be in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be that vulnerable yet, but in due time, perhaps he’d try.

[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P19

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Family issues, domestic abuse, Medical stuff, Medication, Violence and Blood.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part …. Next Part >

The walk to the hospital felt longer than normal mainly because Killer's mind is racing with all the things you might say after you lashed out at Kid, he hopes he can at least smooth things over with you so you won't kick them out, he would hate to have to take you by force but as time goes on he feels more and more drawn to it. If you end up wanting to go with your parents he will happily join his captain in sinking this island and taking you by force, you may hate them for it but in his mind, he would rather you hate him than let you go back with those people. The masked man is snapped out of his thoughts by House who speaks up while trying to keep pace with the taller man "So, N/N really remembers me?" The crazy haired girl asks holding her notebook to her chest, a large hopeful smile on her face and big eyes which look bigger due to her strange glasses, it brings a small smile to his face seeing how happy their doctor is at just the thought you might remember her. "Yes, she remembers training with you but thats it" Despite your memory of her being very limited it causes House to jump a little in excitement starting to speed walk until they get to the elevator, once inside and the doors are closed Killer places his hand on Houses shoulder getting the girl to look up at him with a raised eyebrow "I want you to wait outside the room when we get there, i need to have a word with Y/n before we do anything else" The masked man states getting the girl to nod, her excitement starting to get under control, like the rest of the crew House doesn't know what happened for Kid and Killer to stay on the ship for a whole day and for their captain to flip out, only the commanders know, but she wasn't about to ask or ease drop if she can help it.

Killer lets out a breath trying to calm himself as the elevator opens showing him the same view he always gets, a clean white building with hardly any noise but the blowing wind, stepping out House is quick to follow mainly looking down hoping to not trip on a branch or go through a loose piece of wood. It isn't long until the two make it to your room, the door's closed, but he can't hear any talking, he hopes that your parents haven't shown up yet and with the nurse not at her desk he can't ask her if they've shown up. A knock on your door makes you flinch a gasp leaving your lips as you quickly take your glasses off in fear of it being your mother, your too tired and sore to deal with her yelling at you over something so small which is why you asked for the door to be closed. "Y-Yes" You call out placing the book you were reading and glasses on the side table, to your relief it's not your mother that walks in, but Killer making your body relax against the headboard, the masked man walks in closing the door behind him before clearing his throat "I'm sorry about Kid and… I know you don't trust us bu-" The smile that was once on your face drops at his words, you should be the one thats sorry not him and the thought that you don't trust him hurts, so before you can even think about it you call out to him "Killer, It's not Kid's fault, i shouldn't have said those things, i was mad but now thinking back on it… I'm sorry, i made a big mistake, is Kid mad at me?" You ask feeling tears well up in your eyes, it didn't click with you before but now it has, Kid isn't here, his coat isn't around you and those amber eyes aren't looking you over with a cocky smile on his red lips and you know he's not patient enough to wait outside so that means he isn't here.

The blonde sighs making his way over to you, placing his hand on your cheek he lifts your face up to look at him, his teeth clench in anger at seeing the new bruise on the corner of your cheek bone, it wasn't there the last time he saw you, he wonders if someone hurt you or if you fell, but he shoves that aside for now and instead focuses on reassuring you "He's not mad at you, he's mad at himself." Killers thumb lightly runs over the bruise on your cheek as you raise an eyebrow, Kid should be angry at you not himself, your the one that yelled and ran off while he tried not to yell back. "He shouldn't be, He's been trying so hard for my sake, and i insult him? I've seen the way you both hold back, you could just grab me and burn this place to the ground but you've given me a chose and you've stuck by that even when i'm being a bitch" You can't help but laugh a little at the end, calling yourself a bitch somehow didn't sound so insulting even though it should be, reaching up you take Killers hand off your cheek and hold it in yours, a small huff of a laugh leaves the masked man's lips as he squeezes your hand "I'm not going to lie, we've both thought about it a lot, just taking you but trust and loyalty is everything to us, we won't do anything to break your trust, and we will always be loyal to you" The blonde brings your hand up to his mask pressing your knuckles against the part where his lips would be, your heart swells at the gesture and yet all you can think about is his lips, does he wear lipstick like Kid? are they soft or chapped? Plump or thin? "Killer… Can i-" Your question is interrupted by the door opening causing the two of you to look over at the door and freeze in place.

Melody's raised eyebrows and confused eyes land on the two of you, although she doesn't seem confused about what's going on in the room but with a crazy haired girl wearing large strange glasses waving at you form next to her, you recognized her as the girl from your memories, but she looks a little different, her hair is more puffy and a lot longer and the glasses she's wearing seem bigger than you remember. "This is your doctor?" Melody asks pointing to House next to her, the girl slightly bouncing on her feet as a large smile forms on her face "House, right?" You ask before Killer can answer the question, the smile on House's face somehow gets wider as she sprints to you, dropping her notebook the girl wraps her arms around you as a giggle leaves her lips "Your remember me" Despite how it looks House is surprisingly gentle with her hug but it still made you gasp and jump slightly at fist, wrapping your arms around the girl you lightly pat her back. "Be careful" The nurse yells while walking into the room giving a hard glare at the pirate doctor, Killer lets out a sigh clearly unimpressed by the display of affection from your best friend "House, off" The masked man demands making House quickly let you go and stand back up scrambling to grab her notebook and a few loose pages that have fallen out. "Sorry about her, This is House our doctor and a good one at that" Killer states crossing his arms over his chest in almost a protective manner not wanting anyone to insult a member of his crew, Melody caught on quick to it and puts her hands up letting out a nervous laugh "I was just making sure since you and your captain weren't around to clarify, i didn't want to let a compete stranger in"

Killer gives a short nod letting his shoulders relax, "I'm glad you came House, there's a few things i was hoping to ask" You turn to the crazy haired girl who has picked up her notebook and finished putting the pieces of loose paper pack in their places, she turns to you with a nod but Melody quickly speaks up before you can ask anything "First we need to talk about last night, Y/n had another seizure the night nurse told me that she re-injured her legs but luckily her shoulder is ok" A sick feeling runs through your body at the thought of it alone, you really don't trust your doctor to be telling the truth, plus you've never met the night nurse so you have no idea if you should trust her or not. Killer tenses up again as he turns his attention to you mainly focusing on your covered legs, he hasn't seen how bad it is under the bandages, but he knows that reopening a healing wound will make the healing process a lot longer and sometimes more painful "Is that how you got this?" The masked man moves his hand to run his fingers over the bruise on your cheek, gulping you know better than to lie to the blonde, he seems to know when something is wrong so its only safe to say he knows when your lying too but Kid did say that if your parents hurt you he would kill them, Killer might think the same and as much as you hate your farther for what he did you don't want him to die over a slap "I don't remember how i got it, but at least my cheek bone is healed and my skull" You smile up at him hoping he will focus on the good stuff.

House pushes up her glasses before stepping closer already feeling the tension coming from the first mate and wanting to break it before something like yesterday happened "That's great news, your stitches are out and your not wearing a sling anymore so hopefully you'll be out of here soon. Can i look you over just to make sure?" Melody places a hand on House's shoulder getting the girl to take a step back thinking she's in the way which earning a sweet smile of the nurse "You can observe as i clean her wounds and re-bandages them" The nurse states pulling the covers off you, the once white bandages are slightly stained with red and brown blood spot in different places, you now see why your legs sting so much. "Their dirty" Killer's almost growls as his focus shifts from you, to your legs and then to the nurse who tenses up a little at his tone, the masked man's anger grows until you grab his hand pulling the blonde closer to you with as much strength as you can muster, you don't know why but something told you that he was going to chock her. "It's ok, i asked her to wait since you were bringing House this morning, so… I'd rather not be poked and prodded twice today" Killer quickly turns to you hating that you left it for so long, his anger subsides at hearing the reason why, it makes sense now and the thought of causing you more pain makes his chest tighten, squeezing your hand the blonde gives you a silent nod before pulling a nearby chair over to the bed, so he can sit down next to you and hold your hand which you have refused to let go of. His comfort helps a lot as the Nurse talks to House while pulling the bandages off your legs, it stings, itches and feels tight all at the same time but Melody is careful especially around the recently opened area's.

The process hurt more than you thought it would making you grit your teeth and take deep breaths through your nose, Killer's eyes shift from your legs to your face, he hates seeing you in pain, and he's now extremely glad that he made Kid stay back, not even he could stop the captain from shoving the nurse off you and berating her even though the woman is only doing her job. "Ok, thats your legs done" Melody sighs taking off her gloves and showing them in a small yellow bin along with some of the equipment she used, House nods having stayed over the nurses shoulder the whole time, asking questions and taking notes in her book "Other than the reopened area's the skin's healing nicely, you'll differently have darker spots of skin in some places and the ink on some of your tattoo's have come off but i don't see many issues once its fully healed" House smiles at you happy to see the hospital is doing something right, with a tired smile you give her a thumbs up unable to speak due to the throbbing in your legs and the tiredness overcoming your brain "You ok, babe?" Killer quickly leans forward placing his hand on your cheek to make you look at him, his eyes search yours for that glazed over look you get before those headaches's come on but to his relief it isn't there, just tired slightly teary eyes from trying to hold back groans of pain over the past half hour. A fluttering feeling appears in your stomach at the nickname making you feel more lightheaded although unlike the tiredness it's a almost heavenly feel, leaning into his touch you give the blonde a small smile and a nod.

Melody finishes cleaning up before making her way over to the end of your bed and grabbing your chart, flipping to the back she writes something down before flipping it back "Oh can i see that?" House asks suddenly at the nurses side making the woman jump and gasp in surprise, she didn't hear or see the girl move at all, staring at the crazy haired girl for a moment Melody slowly hands the chart over trying to figure out how the loud and seemingly clumsy girl from before snuck up on her. House gives the nurse a smile before grabbing the chart out of her hands and reading it over, her face turns to confusion and slight concern at seeing some of the stuff written down feeling like something is wrong. Your tired eyes pull away from Killer feeling the energy in the room change, when your eyes land on the pirate doctor your heart drops knowing your assumptions are true. "House what's wrong?" You ask but the girl doesn't move her eyes fixed on the page in front of her "Y/n takes all these in a day?" House asks finally looking up from the chart to look at the nurse while pointing to something on the paper, Melody leans in looking it over before nodding "Twice a day, one dose in the morning and one at night" your hand uncontinuously tightens its hold on Killer's hand starting to let your nerves show, the masked man squeezes your hand lightly trying to offer you reassurance despite his own growing anxiety. House shakes her head looking back to the chart one last time before hanging it back on the end of your bad "That seems excessive for seizure meds, do you mind if i have a look at the pill's?" Melody raises an eyebrow unsure of weather she should do it or not, she doesn't think the doctors here would do anything bad and since House is more of a field medic she might not know a lot about medication.

Her eyes glance to you seeing your tense and almost panicked state so nods offering you a small smile before heading out the door "I'll be right back" House smiles back waving at her before quickly grabbing her notebook and pen starting to write down stuff with amazing speed "You wanted to ask me about the pills right?" the crazy girl asks somehow reading your mind and making you relax your grip on Killer's hand, letting out a breath you nod finally feeling like your not crazy for thinking something is wrong. "Yes, they keep increasing my seizure meds and… I'm just a little anxious about it, i don't know why" Killer runs his thumb over your hand in slightly reassurance, he wished you would have said something sooner about this but then again a lot has been going on and too many people are involved "Trust your gut, if something feels wrong then it wrong " A smile forms on his face at seeing your eyes meet his through the mask a look of relief washing over your face and that slight sparkle of joy he loves to see light up your eyes. "It's excessive the amount their giving you but once i have a look at the tablets and its bottle then I'll know more" The crazy haired girl slams her book closed and paces her pen behind her ear, it disappearing in the mess of hair just as the nurse walks back in with a try full of medication, some in yellow bottles with labels and other in boxes "I thought you might want to have a look at all her meds" The gesture earns a big smile from House bouncing on her tip toes slightly in joy "Thank you so much" Lifting up the bottles the girl inspects the pulls inside and reads the labels all while the nurse watches her every move still not to sure about a pirate handling medication.

With the two women distracted Killer takes this chance to grab your attention, leaning back on his chair the masked man squeezes your hand in three short bursts earning a confused look from you, it takes him a second to realize you have no idea what the gesture means "It means we want privet time or a privet talk" Killer whispers already answering your question before you can ask it, with a small nod you lean back relaxing into the headboard and leaning into the blonde slightly "What's up?" You whisper still keeping your eyes on House and the nurse decreasing some medical stuff you can't understand "Where'd you get the bruise?" His question is so simple yet it sends a sense of dread down into your stomach, even though lying to him would be futile you can't help but do it anyway, you can't tell him the truth "I don't remember, it probably happened during my seizure" The small piece of hope you had that he would just give up and leave it alone is crushed when a growl leaves his lips, not loud enough for the two girls to hear but deep enough to send panic through you "I know your lying.. Farther or mother?" Killer asks turning his head slightly to gauge your reaction hoping to find the answer, he watches your eyes widen slightly at being caught in a lie before going back to normal trying to act like everything is ok, it makes his blood boil knowing he's right, one of your parents hit you, it must have happened yesterday. Did it happen before or after they attached your parents? Was it his fault that they took their anger out on you? are you hurt anywhere else?

The masked man is snapped out of his thoughts by your hand squeezing his in three short bursts "Please leave it alone, i'm not hurt anywhere else, i promise" You whisper turning to look at him, the blonde slowly turns to look you over his other hand moving up to run his fingers lightly over the bruise, he doesn't want to let this go, they should pay for even looking at you but he nods deciding at least for now to drop it. "We.. We need to talk later, we.. Me, Kid, Wire and Heat found out some stuff about your past and.." Killer sighs hating that he's having a hard time getting what he needed out, he knows he needs to tell you as soon as possible about what they did in hopes it will lessen your hate for them but at the same time he doesn't want you to know. "Are they dead? My parents" You knew it would happen eventually, one or both of them would lash out and hurt someone yet you strangely don't feel anything towards it, shouldn't you be upset or mad at the thought of their death? The masked man sucks in a breath of shock surprised that you caught on so quickly "No, their alive just… a broken nose and bruising" With a nod you squeeze his hand again knowing you need to talk later about all this and what they found out, at lot happened over the years and looking back on it makes you mad enough to want to lash out but you've never had the courage to do so, yesterday was proof that you still don't. The two of you state at each other for a moment, despite what you've both just learned it feels like a weight has been lifted leaving the two of you to just bask in each other prescience, enjoy the for once calm moment, uncontinuously the two of you move in closer only stopping when his mask meets your forehead allowing you to see those beautiful blue eyes that shine in the darkness.

House picks up a small yellow bottle with a few pills in them, their small round and thin but doe to the yellow tint of the bottle he can't see the color, so she uncaps the lid and shakes out all the pulls, the blue color makes her pause and look again at the label then back to the pill again her eyebrows raising even more. "Seizure meds shouldn't look like this, their supposed to be pink or white due to the chemical makeup" Her voice snaps You and Killer out of your trance both quickly looking over to the crazy haired girl worry starting to set in, Melody sighs turning around from where she was putting bottles back on the tray only to gasp and leap forward grabbing the bottle of lid "Don't touch the meds, i'm more than happy to show you the bottle but its health and safety that no one touches medication without gloves" Taken back by the nurse's sudden strictness and anger you tense up while Killer to growl slightly hating anyone going after a member of his crew, normally the masked man would step in but one look at house's posture makes him realize not only that she has it under control but that this was planned from the start. "Oh shoot, your right i'm so sorry. Now that I've touched it what do i do?" House gasps holding her hand out and away from herself and the nurse as if it's going to explode.

With a sigh Melody pinched her nose and shakes her head seeming to calm down. "I'll have to bin them all now.. Listen i'm sorry for snapping but next time if you want to see the pills up close just ask me" The nurse screws the cap back on and turns back to the try placing the bottle down before lifting the try up into on hand "I'll throw them away, I've got to get back to work, stay as long as you like but please don't mess with anything… at least without asking me first" Melody giggles holding out her hand for the pills. House lets a big smile show as she places the blue pills into the nurses hand giving her an enthusiastic nod, "I'll see you later" The nurse smiles your way while making her way out the door, for once the room is in complete silence both Killer and House seem to be waiting for something so you stay quiet too. After a minute House lets out a giggles running over to the door and quickly closing it "How many?" Killer asks there's a clear smirk on his face by the sound of his voice "Four i think" House giggles holding out her hand to show four small blue pills she managed to take, reaching into her white lab coat she takes out a small glass bottle and opens it placing the pill inside "S-so i was right? There is something wrong?" Its strange, you feel relief and validated in your worry but at the same time it just makes you more nervous maybe even paranoid, does this also mean that your dream last night was real? If so then when did that happen? Did it happen last night or a few days go?

Sensing your worry House quickly slips the bottle back into her coat while making her way over to you, sitting on the bed she takes your other hand in both of hers "I don't know what they are but I'll find out, for now lets just keep it a secret and try your best to take less of those pills, i still think you should take at least two just in case i'm wrong, either hide the rest of me or flush them" House explains helping your mind calm down a bit, Killer squeezes your hand feeling himself become angry that this place could be making you sicker, he knows this is your family's doing, he knows House will get to the bottom of this and with you willing to help hopefully it will be over quickly. "Thank you" without warning you reach out and pull House into a hug which she happily returns shoving her face into your neck "Thank you so much" You whisper into her thankful that someone has listened to her, she knows Kid and Killer believe her but having someone in the medical field validate what your feeling and saying means so much more, you no longer feel crazy and that your just dreaming things up. "I've always got your back" House whispers back before pulls away giving you a massive smile which is strange since you didn't think it could get any bigger. "Alight, I'll leave you to rest and catch up, get some sleep ok" The crazy haired girl stands then turns to Killer "I'll start working on this, you want me to tell the captain anything?" She asks lightly bouncing on her feet indicating she's raring to get moving, Killer turns to you asking a silent questions which you quickly nod too wanting more than anything to talk with Kid and apologise, giving you a nod back he turns to House "Tell the captain it's ok to come"

[graymanshoots]

Tender Love & Care

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x POC fem reader

Intimate fluff

A/n: Updates will be slow because I am still grieving but I hope

Prompt: Simon and you wind down after a long mission and he takes care of you

(Cute & Boring Domestic Life :D )

The car ride back home from base was comfortably silent. Simon's hand on your thigh as he drove down the long stretch of road. Your eyes were focused on your phone propped on the dashboard playing a movie as you took your cornrows out.

It had been a long couple of months on the job being moved from place to place to do whatever assignment you were given. You dreamed of the shower back home, the lukewarm temperatures and poor water pressure on base not enough to break the tension in your back. The biggest thing you missed was your shampoo and conditioner, your hair in need of some serious TLC after being stuck under a helmet or balaclava for the majority of your mission.

Finishing with your take down, you sighed in relief, and your head of messy and stretched-out hair hit the headrest. Simon's hand moved from your thigh up to your head and massaged your scalp for a little bit. “Don't touch my hair; it probably stinks,” you sighed, not taking any action to stop Simon's actions. “Don't seem to mind too much, love,” he responded before bringing his hand back down to your thigh, earning a displeased whine. He smirked and glanced at you. “Hey, don't get too upset, we're almost home,” he said, feeling relieved to actually be pulling into the familiar neighborhood.

After parking, the short trip inside of the apartment you shared with Simon was quick. The flat was cold and dark, but it was still a welcomed feeling now being able to fully relax. “Shower or bed?” Simon asked, resetting the security alarm now that the door was locked tight and his hands were empty. “Can't sleep with my hair like this,” you sighed, making your way down the hallway in the direction of your shared bedroom. Simon followed after you, leaving the bags in the living room, his arms coming around your waist just as you got to the door of your room. “I can help you with your hair, love. You're too tired,” Simon said, walking forward into the room with you still wrapped in his arms. It was an awkward waddle into the room that made you laugh before relaxing back into Simon. “You just want an excuse to touch my hair,” you accused, leaning your head back to look at him. A smirk played at his lips as he met your playful glare. “Guilty as charged.”

You scoffed and playfully pushed Simon away from you, his hold giving easily as he stepped back a few to take off his hoodie. You pulled your shirt off and kicked off your jeans, tossing both into the empty laundry basket sitting slumped in the corner of your room, your underwear soon following.

Simon let out a low whistle, and you flipped him the bird as you walked into the connected master bathroom. “Just admiring!” he called after you while removing his own clothes, his scarred pale chest contrasting with the tan of his arms from the hours of being out in the desert. “Any tanner and you'll be using my foundation, Simon,” you commented with a snort, seeing the very visible tan lines. “Shut it and get your ass in the shower,” Simon grumbled, rolling his eyes at your jokes, an unexpected smack hitting your ass as soon as you turned back to the shower, your neck turned so you could stick your tongue out at your boyfriend. “Fuck off!” you yelped, now keeping your cheeks covered from any further attack. A stifled chuckle had you turning to Simon with a glare as he shrugged like he didn't do a thing.

You shook your head and turned the water on, letting the temperature warm to perfection before getting in, a pleased sigh leaving your lips at the comfortingly warm water and good water pressure. “There ya go…” Simon hummed, stepping in after you; the shower had been altered to accommodate his size. Simon allowed you to lean against him with your back against his chest and his hands at your waist. The two of you just stood in comfortable silence, letting the water beat against your worn skin, tension breaking away from your muscles. Simon leaned forward and grabbed your washcloth before lathering it in the sweet aloe & coconut body wash that was sitting in the rack. He gently ran the soapy cloth over your shoulders and down your arms, pressing you to his chest when he smoothed over your hands. Simon pressed light kisses to the back of your neck as he moved over your chest and abdomen.

You soaped up and rinsed off together, but the sweet shower was far from over as your hand reached for the Mielle shampoo. “My favorite part,” Simon grinned, taking the bottle from you and squeezing a good amount into his large palm. “Your hair has grown since we’ve been gone,” he commented, massaging the shampoo into your scalp, a pleased moan coming from your lips. “At least there was minimum breakage,” you sighed, closing your eyes as Simon's fingers scratched at your scalp. He was so firm and gentle you could almost fall asleep, the sound of the shower reminding you of rain in a forest and the sweet smells of your body wash and shampoo bringing a smile to your face. “Are you sleepy, pretty girl?” Simon questioned, noticing you swaying on your feet a bit. You hummed in acknowledgment before bringing your head under the water to rinse out the pomegranate & honey shampoo. Once the water ran somewhat clear, you brought your head out and let Simon massage the conditioner into your hair. With the conditioner in your hair, Simon grabbed your detangling brush and gently ran it through your hair, trying to cause minimal discomfort. “Oh lord, what did I do to deserve you?” You whined, earning a chuckle from Simon. “I should be asking that same question, love,” he said, brushing through another section of hair. “I love your hair; it's so soft,” Simon commented, twirling a piece around his finger. “Like a dream…” he trailed off.

After rinsing the rest of the product from your hair, you soon found yourself wrapped in a warm towel and sitting cross-legged between Simon's legs on your bed as he two-strand twists your hair, something he learned to make your nights easier.

“Do we have any plans for tomorrow ‘cause I've got to get groceries or we’ll be eating take out for the week?” You asked, rubbing your body butter over your drying skin.

“I wouldn't mind ordering food tomorrow; let's handle the groceries on Tuesday,” Simon offered while applying leave-in to the small section of hair he was twisting up.

You hummed, rubbing some butter onto Simon's hairy legs. “You should let me wax your legs,” you started randomly, patting Simon's bare legs like bongos.

“Sure, why not!” he replied enthusiastically, causing you to straighten up with surprise.

“Really?”

“No.”

You immediately deflated when Simon's deadpanned rejection hit your ears, putting a hand to your heart as if you’d been shot. “You’ll live,” Simon scoffed, finishing up on the last twist. He patted your leg, signaling that you were done before running his hands through his hair with the excess product.

You let out a noise that could only be described as relief once Simon finished, throwing the towel to the side and moving on top of him. He circled his arms around your waist and leaned back into the mattress, pressing soft kisses to your lips.

[itsgrimeytime]

Maneater (Epilogue) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part One, Two, Three, and epilogue

Taglist: @fuseburner @beltzboys2015-blog @gabrielleisalanastan @starkstiless @strnqer

Summary: You and Rick Grimes had a backstory, one no one knew except you and him. It's one you refused to share, you never really wanted to get into it. All anyone needed to know was you hated the man. When you're in a rough spot, and you could use the shelter the question is... does he hate you?

TWS: swearing, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: This gif is so cute, actually sobbing over little Judith. Domestic vibes only girlies. Alexandria is a paradise, etc, etc. Just listened to Billie Eilish's new song for the Barbie movie, and I can't stop crying. So take some comfort. Thanks for reading!!! ]]

You woke up that morning to something odd, sunlight seeping from your window -a warm feeling fully enveloping you whole, happy, content. It was weird for a moment, as you lay under your duvet -head still in that distant morning fuzz.

Just until your brain kicked into gear.

"Shit," you cursed, trying to see just where the sun was in the sky -you were so late.

Scrambling for a second, you pulled on a sweater for the chill of the morning and only took mere seconds to smooth your hair into something more manageable. Trying so desperately to go quick and not trip over yourself, you made your way out of your house.

It hadn't been very long since this started, the thing between you and Rick. Could you call it dating? If you counted supply runs as dates, sure, you mindlessly remarked.

You'd only made one thing clear, all hesitant and carefully worded like he hadn't known exactly why you felt so unsure of connections. The last time you'd felt happy enough to have something, it hadn't ended well -it never did. Rick didn't even flinch.

'Slow,' he'd said, that sort of grin that always seemed like listening to you was all he'd ever want to do, '-I can do slow.'

Sighing, you tumbled out your door -still a little clumsy from waking up, and distantly you heard Maggie's laughter. You spun around, matching eyes with her and Glenn -they seemed to be hanging up some of their laundry. Smiling way too bright for this early in the morning-

"You going somewhere?" Glenn teased, his grin just as bright as Maggie's.

Rolling your eyes, you flipped them off -earning only more laughter, and turned back to the street. Instinctively following your own feet, you made your way up the porch and didn't even hesitate to walk right in. Rick would've given you a key if he could, knocking was unnecessary.

You opened your mouth, ready to call out to him -the rather empty entryway was dead silent. Briefly made you wonder if you were late before you heard it.

The tiniest little giggle, loud and bright, and something in your heart stalled. Even just for an extra second, maybe you could stand here -catch your breath. You were nervous, unbelievably so and it didn't help that she was... that she was theirs.

That's not her fault, you reasoned with yourself -brushing your fingers along the wall, she's not them.

"Hello?" his voice echoed out -more grumbly in the morning, you'd too often just got lost in it this early, "-Anyone there?"

You tried to respond, you really did. But it was like your brain had built a wall there, your head a little off tempo -you briefly wondered if you should sink to the floor, ground yourself. It was only a thought that flew across your mind, stilled against the wall.

There was some shuffling, a tone you recognized as Carl quiet enough that you couldn't hear. An agreement, maybe. And then with a mere few footsteps echoing against your skull, Rick peeked around the door frame.

All harsh lines, and hand hovering over his gun, he softened upon matching your face -a smile slipping onto his lips like you were all he wanted to see. Before he darted down to your hands, fingers tellingly rubbing against the wall -consistent and eyes anywhere but his.

"Hey," he whispered, approaching you with slow steps -only reaching out to touch you when you leaned toward him, "-hey, everythin' okay?"

You inhaled a big breath, "Just... nervous."

"Sweetheart," he hummed, moving his hands up from your arms to cup your cheek -guiding your eyes to meet his, "-we don't 'ave to do this today. Not if you don't think you're ready."

"I know, I know-" you started, biting back some shakiness in your tone, "-I want to, today. I can. I just, I need a minute."

"'Kay," he mumbled, eyes flitting across your face and thumb skimming across your cheekbone, "-need anythin' from me?"

"Just..." you exhaled, blinking away some of your clouded gazes, "-just stay."

Rick frowned slightly, only for a moment -before his fingertips danced back down your arms, pulling you to his chest with the gentlest of touches, "'Course."

Nosing into your hair, he pressed a languid kiss to your forehead -the buzzing warmth pleasant to your brain running so fast. Slow, you repeated in your head, leaning into the touch and wrapping your own arms around his middle, slow. Pressing further into him, like the comfort he gave you could completely surround you -envelope you in safety.

"You're doin' so good," Rick muttered against your hair, voice calm and soft, "-even if ya don't see Judith today. I'm proud of you."

It was almost too much for you then, surrounded by everything so Rick and to hear those words. When you were working so hard, he saw it, he acknowledged it. The words were out before you could even think about it -muffled by his shirt and stuffy from the cloud of tears.

"I love you."

And before you could even feel a shred of worry or doubt, you felt him grin against your skin. With a bright smile, he spoke -as if on instinct, almost giddy, "I love you too, 'course I do."

Your heart fluttered in your chest, as you let out a watery laugh and moved your hands to begin wiping at your face-

"Let me," he hummed, pulling back slightly to pull his hands up to your face -cupping your cheek and rubbing at the tears. Gentle and whispers of comfort in every swipe, he didn't tell you to stop -only wished to soothe you for as long as you would let him.

And once he saw the smile slip across your face, he leaned forward -pressing his lips to the tear trails. Then across your cheeks, and down your nose, along your eyebrows, at the corner of your lips -he kissed every inch of skin he could.

"Rick," you laughed -making no moves to be anywhere else.

He only grinned in response, muttering in disbelief -like he couldn't believe it, "I love you."

You laughed - a bright twinkling sort of sound, "Rick-"

"What?" he spoke, eyes shining in the kinda way that you hadn't gotten used to yet but you recognized -pulled back from your face.

"We can't do this all day-"

He raised his eyebrows, testing you, "I could-"

"Rick," you smiled, only a sniffle from your nose left from the moments before, "-I've got someone to meet, remember?"

"Yeah?" he spoke, looking over you carefully -taking at your word but always sure to know when to step in.

"Yeah," you echoed, something settling in the air then, -clearing your throat, "-but if she hates me, I told you so."

He rolled his eyes, playfully, and took your hand -sliding up to your side and pulling you into the living room. It was a familiar sight, if not just a little more messy. Toys were strewn across the rug, Carl off on the couch -eagerly making some sort of stuffed animal bounce around.

And in the center of it, all was Judith. Her smile was painted so beautifully across her chubby little face, nose scrunching, and brown eyes intent on the stuffed animal. Your heart squeezed somewhere deep in your chest, she looked just like Lori.

She'd hardly been bothered by the presence of you and Rick entering the room until he'd spoken up -gingerly pulling you to the rug, "Hey, Jude, Daddy's got someone for ya to meet."

Her big brown eyes darted to his face, before fluttering over to you -curious and bright. Something in you shifted, as you let go of Rick's hand and crouched forward -eyes intent on the little girl.

"Hi, Judith," you smiled, something catching in your throat for an entirely different reason, and you waved -small but exaggerated for her to see, "-I'm Y/N. It's nice to finally meet you."

Her little eyes darted across your face, seeming to take you in for a moment -you'd give her all the time in the world if she wanted. Until she reached out her hand -tiny fingers out to yours and grabbed you. Pulling down, trying to tell you to stay-

There were tears in your eyes then, but a different kind.

And as you scooted close to her, babbling and showing you each of her toys one by one... you thought it might just all be okay.

[thateldribitch]

To Be Tender

Yandere Floyd/Reader; Yandere Jade/Reader. Briefly mentioned Yandere Azul/Reader.

Word Count: 2114

Kind of part of a series, could be read as standalone though. Here's part one!

CW: Possessive behavior, kidnapping, yandere behavior, the tweels being grabby and creepy (but not sexual.) The ocean. Conditioning and manipulation. We're getting psychological this time bitches.

“Darling….” A warm breath makes your eyes flutter in the false dawn. The magical lights begin to tick past the faint blue of the night cycle to an early morning gray. The faux stars dim. The projected moon clicks off. A groan trickles past your lips… petering off into a whine as his limbs untwine from yours. Cold. You curl into a ball, soaking up the warmth draining from the bed. A hand strokes through your hair, tenderly. Warm lips press to your forehead. “...business trip… evening…. Back before you know it….”

Words drift in and out of your barely thawed consciousness. Too cold to go to sleep; too sleepy to fully wake. A quiet chuckle escapes Azul’s lips, as he swaddles you in a sinfully soft blanket. It’s weighted…. And that too-light feeling fades with a sigh of comfort. Sinking… back into sleep…. Hours later… the bulbs in the walls begin to burnish to a sunshine-gold… your eyes flutter open. 

You scream into your goddamn pillow.

Even the fabric smells like him. The blanket is worse, though. Gods, whenever he leaves like this he swaddles you in soft blankets, weighted and covered in his cologne. The texture feels all too similar to his skin, the plush softness of his caecilian body…. It should disquiet you. It used to. And yet you’ve been Pavlov’d into relaxing beneath the false warmth and weight and scent….. Spitefully, you kick the blanket off of you and curl into a ball.

It’s worse when you remember he only gives you the blankets when he’s not in bed with you. Because why would you need anything but his body to keep you comfortable? You’re just glad he stopped using his body as the bedding. You have something akin to a mattress now. It’s. An upgrade. Sort of…. More nest-like than anything you’re used to, but it’s… comfortable, at least. But it’s still too cold without a blanket. Or Azul. Pinching your lips, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to eke out a few more minutes of very uncomfortable sleep. It’s more irritable half-awareness, though; meditative, almost.

The lights eventually warm to something akin to mid-morning light. It stirs you like clockwork. Gritting your teeth, you sigh and stumble up and out of bed. You clumsily swim into the kitchen with groggy little kicks. There’s a lovingly prepared plate waiting for you. A thick slab of meat perfumes the water with a mouth-watering marinade. It takes you a moment to realize it’s an orca’s flank. With its contrasting skin delicately flayed and its teeth artfully scattered around the plate’s edge, the cut glistens on a bed of sea-greens. 

It’s fresh. And warm. Domestic, with the intimidating hint of showing off—look what I can kill for you. Look at how strong I am, how capable. But not only that, but it’s purposefully seasoned to your tastes. For a moment… you just stare at it. It’s conditioning. You know it’s conditioning. Bile rises into your throat. Hunger falls to a distant memory. Instead, desperation rises. A need. A need to get out, you need to get out before his calculated attempts at Stockholm syndrome really start to work. 

You smack the plate off the counter, breathing heavily. The meat sinks. The greens float and scatter. It’s not enough. It’s not enough. The exit is clear. An open cave, a crack in the trench wall. This is your prison. But why would he need a locked door or bars to keep you where he wants you. The intimidation of the exit is so effective in the first place. The abyss stretches out before you—a yawning, frigid maw beyond the temptingly enchanted light and heat of Azul’s cavern. But your heart beats restlessly. It’s a constant tempo of your need for freedom.

It takes many start-stops; many failed attempts of trying to gain the courage to brave the darkness again. Even more so to move through it. Because the trench just consumes. Life, light, everything. Even though you must not be more than a few feet out—is it only a few feet? It feels like miles. Like a current dragged you down further and you just couldn’t feel it because it’s so damn cold. You’re numb. Okay. Okay, no, calm down. Calm down. There’s not a living thing in these icy depths, nothing beyond what Azul lets into the trench. It’s as if even the most fearsome predators quake at the idea of entering such dangerous, dark waters. It’s. Fine.

Move.

You’ll never get used to swimming through pure ink. It’s directionless. No up, no down—just black. The only sound is the bubble of your breath and the pound of your heart. But the darkness swallows that too. It’s not alive. But it feels like it. A weight, a presence, a monster. Where’s the cavern? Fuck. Fuck, you went out too far, where’s the ledge, you usually use the cavern’s edge to guide yourself up. Fuck…. It’s so cold. Dark, so dark, so cold. Up. Down? Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—

“My oh my,” a voice sings out in the dark, “Another escape attempt so soon?”

You turn towards it. From the opposite direction, a body crashes into you, sharp teeth sinking pointedly into the back of your neck. It doesn’t hurt. More like. Scruffing a kitten, really. Just with sharper teeth. Instinctively, you fall limp, gasping for breath. Floyd coos as he releases his toothy grip. He rubs his cheek against the back of your neck. He’s warm. Unfortunately warm. Wrapping around you like a living blanket, all velvet skin and soft hair. Floyd can be unfortunately gentle when he wants to be. A content few clicks escape him as he feels you curl into his warmth, nosing closer to him as the chill is burned from your skin. Another shiver—this time, in self-disgust. You hate that this is comforting. You hate that you can breathe easier at the sight of Jade’s golden eye bobbing in the dark. 

“And oh so injured. Dear, you mustn’t push yourself like this…. Not when you’re hurt,” Jade lets out a put-upon sigh. Something’s running over your bandages. Pain blooms. Panic bursts like a firework, brief and bright, until your mind registers that it’s Jade’s fingers skimming over your injured ankle. 

“Fuck you, Jade,” you hiss.

“If you’d like,” he responds with a small smile that barely shows the points of his teeth. They glitter in the glow of his brother’s gaze, like some monstrously illuminated, razor-sharp smirk. You glance away, glaring off into the darkness. He chuckles softly. “Come along. Let’s get you warm.”

He says that like you have a damn choice…. There’s no such thing as personal space with these two. Floyd’s iron grip constricts you to the point that you wheeze out a breath. Jade’s so damn close that you can feel him twining like a protective ribbon around you and his brother. The one benefit you’ll give to this is that it’s warming you up pretty quickly. Though, you do try and flinch away as Jade rubs at your icy fingers. Sure, it gets feeling back into them, but…. 

“Hey. Close your eyes, Toadfishie,” Floyd rubs his cheek against your head, mussing up your hair. You didn’t even realize your eyes were open…. “You’ve been in the dark for a minute. Don’t wanna hurt’cha.”

Begrudgingly, you squeeze them shut… even if it goes against your every instinct. Why would a prey animal want to close their eyes around a predator, after all? A shiver claws its way up your spine as the familiar heat of the cavern spills over you. A relieved breath puffs out of your lips, as you melt against the twins. You can’t… help it. The gentle fussing feels so tender. Fingers skim over your ankles. 

Maybe you’re a little delirious. Maybe you just… need the comfort, need that tense feeling squeezing your heart to just ease. Just a little. But then Floyd licks at the bite mark he left on your neck—and your whole body goes stiff as a board. Struggling, you squirm out of his arms and right into Jade’s. He clucks his tongue, tucking you tightly against him as he cleans the faintly bleeding tooth marks. 

“...Easy now, Pearl,” he murmurs, voice far softer than usual. “...I just don’t want this to get infected.”

“You don’t have to lick me to do that,” you point out, almost bonking your head against his chin. One of his arms cages you against his chest; the other holds your head, gentle but firm. Completely immobilized, all you can do is spit curses and kick your feet a bit. You feel his smirk against your neck. 

“It’s faster,” he chuckles. His thumb swipes gently over your cheek, just barely skimming the corner of your lips. You learned a long while ago not to bite them…. But it is tempting. Not that your useless teeth could have punctured their skin anyway. 

They like pointing things like that out…. Because their ‘courtship’ has a lot less to do with bribery and conditioning, and more with showing off. Look how strong they are, how capable. They like… proving themselves? They catch increasingly deadly meals. Orcas, giant squids, sharks—proving they can provide for their mate and young, they told you once. That they can protect you. It makes you shiver. At least Azul doesn’t admit things like that with a big, toothy grin. The honesty is… almost refreshing. It’s not a song and dance of subtle manipulations and calculated softness. But it’s still—

“Jaaaaaaaaade, Toadfishie spilled their food,” Floyd pouts, poking at the floating pieces of your meal. 

“Have you eaten at all this morning?” Jade murmurs, eyes narrowing. In concern? Frustration? It’s so hard to tell sometimes. Their features are so alien. What you do know is that they all hate it when you don’t eat. Sharply, you inhale as you feel him trying to get you to subtly look him in the eye. You glance at him, glance away. Anywhere but that damn golden eye. “Pearl—” 

“No, I didn’t, okay?” You writhe in his grip, uncomfortably screwing your eyes to the wall. “I-I—” You start, then abort the sentence. They don’t deserve an explanation. Trusting them with your fears, even if they can guess at them, makes your skin crawl. You’re not going to tell them anything more than what they demand to know.

“...What would you like to eat?” Jade murmurs, after a moment. You open your mouth, shut it. They won’t get you surface food. You’ve asked before. They don’t let you have anything that reminds you of the surface…. Except for clothes, but even those are more in the style of merfolk nobles. All clinging clothes that can’t get caught in the current; fancy embellishments over scales or skin. 

“Mmmm,” Floyd’s displeased hum, bordering on a growl, is your only warning before he snatches you out of Jade’s arms. It knocks the wind out of you. Even more so as he starts swimming back to the entrance of the cavern. “Let’s go to the surface.”

His offer startles you, as you jerk your head to him in shock. It must surprise Jade too, because he immediately swims in front of his impulsive twin. “Floyd—”

“Jade, c’mon, they’re not eating. And they had a back-to-back escape attempt! Toadfishie needs to stretch a bit, they’re too cooped up. Bored!” He flails one arm out, the motion moving the water in a slight stream of bubbles. “Lookit their Toadfishie pout!” He squeezes your cheeks, then pushes his face against yours to ‘pout’ with you. 

“...We can’t just take them to the surface without telling Azul.”

“Then let’s get them surface food and bring it back—”

“I really do not think—” 

“He’s gonna be more mad if we can’t get ‘em to eat!”

“Mad is a strong word.”

“It’s fuckin’ accurate though!”

“He would be disappointed.”

“Disappointedly mad.”

“At us, perhaps.”

“...Yeahhhh, I can’t see him gettin’ mad at Toadfishie.”

“I still don’t think—”

“...Please?” Timidly, you glance up at them, then down. The two fall silent. Their golden eyes fall like heavy weights upon your quivering lips. Your tears are nigh invisible in the water, but one of them thumbs at your cheek regardless. The tiniest sniff escapes you, but it falls to small sobs. “I won’t try to run, I-I just— please.”

“...Alright, Pearl,” Jade softens. His forehead bumps against yours, hairlines brushing tenderly. A small hum rises in his chest, vibrates through your body. Almost soothes you. 

“Just please don’t cry, ’fishie,” Floyd murmurs, almost frantically nuzzling at your neck. 

…

…

…

It’s nothing but a hollow comfort.

Okay because I know some of y'all might question the nickname, Floyd calls you Toadfishie because: Reader is “slow” (compared to them anyway); likes to bite; and the sour look they give him reminds him of toadfish. Sounds unflattering but he thinks it’s cute lol.

Thanks for the kind tags and comments guys :D It really encouraged me to write this next piece!

[readychilledwine]

Azriel Appreciation Week Day 4 - Domestic Life - Daycation

Summary - Having a day off together was rare, and Azriel knew he had to make the most of it by taking Lyria to his favorite place. His mother's.

Warnings - none

A/n- happy day four of @azrielappreciationweek Noone can convince me Azriel isn't the biggest mommy's boy, and having her approval of his mate would mean the world to him.

Ps if you haven't met Lyria yet and want to read some smut, you can find her in the following fics, both have 2 parts 💙

Slow Hands - Fours Company

Lyria arched her back, stretching her arms and legs as the soft morning sun painted her room a golden hue.

Then, she rolled over, pulling the blanket back over her red curls and snuggled deeper into her pillow.

She had scheduled herself a weekend off. A full 48 hours to rest her hands, her mind, her Magic. 48 hours to lay in the plush oversized bed she had purchased since her relationship with Azriel began all by herself. She released enough Magic to kiss her sheets and blanket in warmth, cocooning her in this unmatched feeling of comfort and sighed in happiness.

But that all went to shit quickly as she heard her door open and a body threw itself on her.

"Good morning, mate." Azriel pulled her blanket down, forcing her to look at him and smiled at her soft glare. "Rhys gave me today off."

Lyria popped up, her whole mood having shifted with that simple sentence. "Really?" Her wide eyes were silver lined with joy. "A whole day we can spend together?"

He nodded, stroking her messy hair. "There's somewhere I want to take you. It's important to me. But I figured we'd start with breakfast."

Azriel held her hand as they walked up to a small home on the edge of Velaris and the Sindra. The chimney was slowly billowing out smoke and the soft scent hearth welcoming them. They had stopped at the market, grabbing a bouquet of flowers, some baked goods, and a few other random things.

Azriel didn't knock when they got there, quickly dropping her hand with a boyish grin and kicking his boots off as fast as he could. "Ah, you're finally here!" A soft feminine voice made Lyria pause as she was removing her own flats. "And you brought her!"

She caved looking over her shoulder and instantly stood straight. Azriel was approaching a beautiful illyrian female, her soft hazel eyes adorned with laughter lines, her long dark hair had begun to grey slightly. Lyria easily placed the age based off her own father's looks and knew immediately.

Her mate had brought her to his mother's house.

Azriel held her for a little while before handing her the flowers Lyria had picked. A mix bouquet of wild and beautiful things. "Hi momma."

"Hi baby," she touched Azriel's face gently. "Introduce me to your mate. You're being very rude, Azriel."

Lyria and Florence sat on the couch together, snuggled under a blanket while Azriel finished cooking dinner. She had spent the day gossiping with his mother over snacks and drinks while she put her son to work around the house causing him to throw playful glares their way every so often.

They were currently discussing Lyria's job, something the female had been very interested in when Azriel finally spoke. "She might be willing to work you into her schedule mom. I'll pay."

Lyria looked at him, a single brow raised. "Why would I require payment?"

"For your time," Azriel answered slowly.

"She's your mother?" Lyria turned back to Florence. "I have tomorrow off! We should go shopping and then I can give you a massage! You will love it." Adoration flooded the bond from Azriel, tickling her heart and making her cheeks flush slightly.

Florence looked to Az, "Someone does owe me a shopping trip. And you two are staying the night."

Azriel had looked up, pausing mid stir. "My checkbook hurts already. Foods done. I made your favorite, momma."

Azriel pulled Lyria closer to him in the bed, kissing her nose and forehead before forcing it into his shoulder and neck. She had fallen asleep hours ago, her cheeks flushed from the wine her and his mother had been drinking while the 3 of them played games.

He had to carry both her and his mother to bed, the two females both giggling at their turn and telling him how much they loved each other, and in turn him. Azriel smiled into his mate's wild hair, already a mess of flames and curls, and shut his eyes with a soft sigh, enjoying the way Lyria unknowingly heated their bed to the perfect temperature.

He had finally brought a female his momma approved of home to her, now all he had to do was survive a day shopping with both of them.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Move In?

Pairing: Bruce x Reader Word count: 2,045

Read on AO3

Part 3 of Without Me

Pulling your hair up, you made your way back towards where Bruce still slept in his bed. It had been two months since the night at Hole in the Wall already. Your life had changed dramatically since you began seeing Bruce, and you couldn’t be happier. Crawling up the bed, you smiled at how peaceful he looked. Carefully, you barely touched his cheek, silently giggling when he scrunched his nose. You got back under the covers and started trailing your fingers up and down his back.

He let out a soft noise instantly, but took a few minutes to wake up. “Mm.” He nuzzled into you. “So comfy.” He mumbled.

“Calling me squishy?” You gently scratched his back with a grin.

“Nope.” He let out a small yawn. “What time is it?” He hugged you to him as he rolled on his back.

“Almost nine.” You kissed his nose. “Got the coffee started…” You smiled. “I was thinking I’d make us breakfast, too.”

“Hmm. You’re amazing.” He kissed your jaw, fully awake now. “I gotta say, that’s the best I’ve slept in ages.” He admitted.

“I wonder why.” You grinned. Reaching up, you ran your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled. “Might have something to do with this hot chick that spent the night.” He flirted with you.

You blushed. “Sweet talker.” You grinned. Your head was on his chest, and you enjoyed listening to his heart beat. “It’s almost the end of the school year.” You said softly.

“Which is a fucking relief.” He chuckled. “Though finals are going to kill me. Literally.” He shook his head.

“You do realize I usually head home for part of the summer, right?” You said softly.

He blinked and looked at you. “You do, don’t you?” He frowned. “This year, too?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I’d like to see my family, but I might shorten my trip. Or...you could come, too?”

He tilted his head into the pillow. “You’d let me meet your family?” He asked, surprised.

You nodded. “Only if you wanted to…” You traces a pattern on his jaw. “I won’t force you.” Did he ever meet the parents of his girlfriends?

He thought about it for a moment. “I usually just kick it here. So I’d love to spend more time with you.” He felt you smile against your chest. “Your dad won’t try to kill me, right?” He asked playfully.

You hummed. “He might. Then ask you about the latest type of car you have. It’ll keep him entertained for days.” You giggled. “My younger brother will be your shadow.”

He grinned, tracing patterns on your back. “Whatever makes my woman happy.” You blushed like crazy and buried your face in his chest. He kissed your head with a chuckle. “Do we need to fly there?”

“You’d love that. Some private jet.” You teased. “I usually drive, it’s about 8 hours.”

“I love to show off.” He admitted with ease. “But 8 hours alone sound great.” He squeezed your waist. “Maybe make it longer by making stops along the way?” He suggested.

“Road trip?” You brightened.

“Road trip.” He agreed happily, surprising even himself.

You grinned and kissed him happily. You were very excited for him to meet your family. It meant a ton to you, but you had a good feeling about Bruce. Even Kyle seemed to be rooting for the pair of you.

Bruce squeezed you. “How about I help with that breakfast?” He offered, feeling very domestic with you.

“You can look pretty and watch.” You giggled. “Mr. I-burn-toast.” You teased. “I'd hate to see what you do to pancakes.”

“It was once.” He nipped your shoulder with a chuckle. Hearing you laugh, he moved to tickle you.

You gasped before letting out a series of laughs, slapping his hands. “Bruce!!” You wiggled. “I’ll kick you!” You warmed through your squeals.

“Worth it!” He grinned above you, dodging your arms. He pinned your arms and attacked you with kisses. “You’re so fucking cute.” He said between kisses. “And I can't believe you're mine sometimes.”

You smiled lazily and looked at him. “I can’t believe you’re mine either. My sweet, boyfriend.”

Bruce kissed you softly. His mind swam with emotions as he poured what he felt for you, something that never had come so easy. You easily returned them.

The ending of the semester came quickly, but for a couple weeks you and Bruce had barely seen each other since you were swamped with last minute projects. It was starting to get to you. You weren’t clingy, but you missed crashing at his place. You texted all the time, or as much as you both could anyway, but it wasn’t the same as hugging or seeing him.

Finally, you were getting home from your last final to see his car parked in your driveway. You silently cheered and rushed to get inside. “Bruce!” You nearly tackled him.

He lifted you with ease into a hug. “Hey, baby.” He grinned, kissing your cheek. “I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you more.” You hugged him tight. “Are you all finished?!” You asked excitedly. “I am!”

He pecked your lips. “All done. I wanted to come celebrate with you.” He grinned. “Pack a bag, I’m taking you away for a weekend.” He said excitedly.

“I have work.” You pouted.

“Ditch. Call in. Quit.” He shrugged as if it was nothing.

You blinked. “And I’d be unable to pay my bills.” You reminded him. “My phone would get cut off, I’d lose my room here, car insurance would go bye-bye…”

He whined. “But I could provide all that for you.”

That took you by surprise. “Is the Bruce Wayne wanting to get serious by moving in together?”

He blushed, a rarity for him. “I’m crazy about you…” He nodded. “So, move in with me? Quit your job and let me take care of you?”

You stared at him. “That’s a huge step.” You ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying no, either. Just wanna make sure this is really what you want.” You’d never heard of him living with a girlfriend before.

He smiled. “I’ve never been more sure. These past couple weeks have only assured my decision.” He told you honestly. “Hell, we can go apartment hunting, too.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I’m so into you. I can’t believe I’m about to agree to this.” You teased. “Let’s do it.”

He fist pumped the air and twirled you. “So weekend away it is?” He looked like a kid at Christmas.

“I’m officially all yours.” You grinned. “How's that sound?”

“The best thing I’ve ever heard.” He let you go. “Go pack.” He grinned. “I'll make reservations.”

You made a happy noise and rushed off happily. Life was really looking up. You weren’t one to move in so quickly with a boyfriend, but you didn’t bother talking yourself out of it. It just felt right.

Bruce leaned against your counter, making some calls and emails to set up the perfect weekend. He couldn't wait to have you to himself for a few days. The past couple of weeks dragged without you. It felt like part of him was missing. He smiled now that he could have you uninterrupted from school work. Even just lounging around would be welcome.

When you came out with a couple of bags, he beamed. “Ready?” He asked, moving to take them.

“More than. I don’t even know what I packed.” You giggled. “I just was excited to spend time with you.”

“You’re perfect.” He kissed your shoulder and followed you out. “How would you feel about meeting my parents?”

You looked up at him. “Your parents? You’d want me to?” You asked shyly, your cheeks tinted pink.

“I’d be so proud to show you off to them.” He said earnestly. “Dinner this weekend?”

“But...I’m not rich.” You weren’t like anything like the girls in his past. You were terrified they wouldn't like you.

“And?” He put your bags in the trunk. “Why does that matter?”

“Well, I mean...I don’t know. Won’t they not approve of my...class?” You didn’t know how to put it. You were a poor college student like many of your classmates. “I'm just scared they won't like me.”

“They’ll love you.” He told you. “They know you’ve been keeping me on my toes.” He smiled. “My mom loves that you call me a brat!” He laughed.

“You are! My brat now though.” You brightened a little. “No fancy dinners, though?”

“Hmm. That’ll be hard. Unlike me, they have zero knowledge of Hole in the Wall like places.” He rolled his eyes but chuckled.

You giggled. “Should we introduce them to something like bowling?” You asked playfully.

He snorted and laughed. “I’d pay to see that.” He told you as you both got into the car. “I can’t see my parents bowling .” He shook his head. “They’d buy new bowling balls and shoes and probably make their own bowling place.” He cracked up at the idea.

You smirked slightly. “It’s a suggestion!” You giggled. “There’s also roller skating.” You laughed.

He lost it, laughing so hard he went silent as he rested his forehead on the steering wheel. You grinned at the sight. “That’s great.” He squeaked. “So great.”

“You’re freaking adorable right now.” You shook your head. You’d never seen him like this.

“You’re adorable with your suggestions.” He wiped his eyes before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I love them. And you.”

You blushed and grinned widely. “I love you, too, Bruce.” You tapped his nose. It had been the first time the pair of you had said it. It had warmed up your entire chest and stomach and you giggled as he nuzzled in your neck. His arms wrapped around you tightly.

He let out a breath. “I was going to tell you this weekend, but I couldn’t help myself.” He kissed your neck gently. “You’re just so amazing.” He smiled against your skin.

“So are you!” You squeezed him. “My life has changed with you in it.” You said happily.

“Same here. You’ve made me a better man.” He said easily. “I’m not looking forward to cheap thrills and shit.”

“Glad to hear it.” You ran a hand through his hair. “Now, let’s get away for the weekend, my love.”

“With hopefully a lot of pleasure.” He winked and sat up. Seeing you blush never got old.

“Holding you to that.” You mumbled shyly.

When the pair of you pulled up to a hotel, you blinked. “I'll never get used to this.”

He grinned. “I love seeing your surprise.” He said as the valet came out. He took your hand as you both got out while people gathered your bags. You were so bashful about being treated like this. It was something he really enjoyed. You weren’t in it for the glam. You were with him because you enjoyed his company- no matter what the pair of you were doing. “I wanted to really treat you this weekend.” He added. “Show you how much you mean to me.”

“You already do that.” You said lovingly. “But I won’t complain to a bubble bath. I’m sure they have huge ones.” You told him, winking.

He licked his lips. “You just like to tease.” He ruffled your hair. “I’ll get you back.”

“You do it without meaning to so I’m sure.” You grinned, sticking by his side as he checked in. Your hand was on his back, your head on his shoulder as he did all the talking.

The receptionist smiled at you every so often before finally handing the keys over. “Best suite we have, Mr. Wayne.” He assured him. “Complementary basket, as well.”

“Perfect.” Bruce winked at him before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Shall we?” He motioned to the elevators.

“Yes please.” You stayed close to him. “Burgers from room service for dinner?” You asked.

He laughed. “I love how we can have the best steaks, and you want burgers.”

You grinned. “I love burgers. And fries. They’re from different places.” You shrugged.

“Cows and potatoes?” He teased.

You shoved him lightly. “Fancy and not fancy!” You laughed. “Smartass.”

“Your smartass.” He nudged you back.

[pavlovianfuckery]

you know what they say about the other kind of slippery slope (concerning slippers)

A/N: So the little slipper discussion gave me brain worms, love that for me

AO3

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Fandom Masterlist

Summary: For all his complaining he's had no problem making himself at home in your apartment, even if it's only in small ways. It started with a toothbrush when spending the night had become an almost weekly thing. One day it had just been there, and at the time you hadn't commented on it. But then, neither had he. From there it had silently snowballed.

Pairing: Blaine DeBeers/F!Reader

Notes: plot what plot, soft sleepy sex, smut with *~feelings~*,no use of y/n, mission let the horrible fictional man be happy for 5 dang minutes

Length: 2500~ words

Judging by the light spilling through the gaps in the curtain and over the bed, it's so early that it's almost late still. Staring up at the ceiling, you're not sure what woke you up, at least not exactly. The arm haphazardly slung across your waist probably has something to do with it, though. As much as it should simply make you happy, you can't quite shake the gnawing anxiety and despite your best efforts, sleep remains tauntingly out of reach until you simply give up.

It's a delicate affair, carefully slipping free without disturbing him, but you manage it. Or, almost.

"… whe' goin'?" The words are slurred and a bit hard to make out but the way he tenses up and frowns at you gets the point across. Groggy from sleep, pale hair all sleep-mussed and eyes a little unfocused as he squints at you, it almost hurts to look at him. There's something so soft and unguarded about it and even though he looks none too happy about being woken up, it still makes your heart seize painfully in your chest.

"Just bathroom. Water." You almost have to force the words out as your already dry throat constricts around them, for reasons that have very little to do with thirst. For a second he's seems reluctant to let go, though you doubt it's on purpose since he's still half-asleep. As you give his wrist a soft squeeze he slowly relaxes, heaving a deep sigh and letting you wiggle free the rest of the way.

The way to the bathroom goes almost on auto-pilot aside from nearly tripping over the slippers at the foot of the bed, left where he'd haphazardly kicked them off.

The hinges of the bathroom door squeak when you go to gently close it, making you wince. Splashing your face you do your best to shake the lingering anxiety, and while the water doesn't hold any answers it still makes you feel better, at least a little. Even though you can't really taste the difference anymore you still leave the water running for a minute before drinking, letting your gaze wander as you wait for it to get cold.

For all his complaining he's had no problem making himself at home in your apartment, even if it's only in small ways. It started with a toothbrush when spending the night had become an almost weekly thing. One day it had just been there, and at the time you hadn't commented on it. But then, neither had he. From there it had silently snowballed. A bottle of hot sauce in the fridge door, from a brand that you don't recognise or have a memory of ever buying. The small, expensive-looking tin of pomade snuck in on the bathroom shelf next to your own products. A fancy bottle of shower gel that you definitely didn't buy. The soft pajama bottoms and well-worn t-shirt in the bottom drawer of the dresser. Originally they had ended up there after he let you borrow them after ruining your clothes, so you're not sure if they count, really. But rather than taking them back he's simply commandeered that half of the drawer, so maybe it does. So far all he's added has been a couple of changes of underwear and some socks, but you've not said anything about that either. You probably won't. It's almost frighteningly domestic and you're not sure how he managed to seep into so many parts of your life without you really noticing until it's too late.

The water tastes like nothing but it still helps, making it feel a bit easier to breathe despite how you barely need to, anymore.

Nothing is going to happen.

You remember to step over the slippers on the way back, even if it's not as sneaky as you'd like. There's grumbling when you lift the rumpled covers to crawl back in, though you suppose it's more from the movement than anything else. After all, it's not like you're letting the heat out.

"Didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." It sounds a lot like a lie because he's clearly still drowsy, all sleep-heavy limbs as he reaches for you. It's a bit clumsy, but there's no hesitation to the way he pulls you close and slings an arm over your waist again, the weight of him solid and comforting against your back. Even though you never really feel warm anymore it's still cozy like this, nestled in close and with his slow, even breaths tickling the back of your neck. Yet, sleep continues to elude you. Not that you really need that much of it nowadays, but it's frustrating all the same. It should be easy to drift off again, and as his breathing deepens, you think he might have.

Not you, though. You're left unable to even toss and turn, for all the good it would do. Instead you gently run a hand down his arm, ruffling the soft hairs there before putting your hand over his. You're not quite prepared for the wave of tenderness that washes over you at the way your fingers fit between his, resting sleep-slack against your stomach.

You haven't really…said it, yet. Not really. It might have slipped out, once or twice, in the heat of the moment, but that hardly counts. That had been different. This is different. It feels truer somehow, here in the quiet of your bedroom, bathed in the drab light of early morning. Rolling the words around in your mind like a marble, you think about it.

But you don't say it.

As much as you'd like to stay like this eventually your shoulder starts to fall asleep, forcing you to shift. In the process you jostle him without meaning to, making him twitch awake with a displeased sound, fingers tightening against yours. He's quick to relax again though, pressing his lips to the back of your neck with a sigh.

"Can't sleep?" The rough edge to his voice sends a shiver through you, making you very aware of how close he is. How naked.

"Yeah..." You can't help pushing back against him just a little, enjoying the way his cock twitches against you despite the rest of him sounding at least half asleep, still. It almost feels a bit mean though, letting the fact that you can't sleep keep him awake as well. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you try to slowly disentangle yourself. "Sorry, I should let you rest."

"'s fine." He just tightens his grip, pressing in closer. You could pull away but you don't really want to, especially not when he rubs himself against you like that. It's lazy and slow, making molten want pool low in your belly like hot honey as you feel every twitch and swell of his stiffening cock. Every shivery sigh shoots straight to your core until your mind is foggy with it, making your hips twitch back almost on their own. As he slides in between your thighs he stills, breath hitching slightly as he pushes against you, heavy and lovely.

"You want it?" He sounds almost too good like this, dozy and soft, with no trace of the usual cockiness as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

"Can I?" The feel of him so close to where you need him is enough to have a whine catching low in your throat, turning your voice into something quiet and needy. "Please?"

That gets you a low, contented hum as he grips your hip, gently steadying you.

"C'mere…" For a moment you think that you might need more time, but as your lips part around the head of his cock you're more than ready, slick and almost swollen with it. Him simply nudging at your entrance is enough to have you trembling against him, body so eager to be filled that it's almost painful. For a few moments he just holds himself there, barely even inside as you twitch around the tip of his cock. All it takes is one small push backwards to make him pop inside properly, panting against the back of your neck as he slowly sinks into you. Every movement has the prettiest raspy little moans tumbling from his mouth.

It's probably not going to take long, but that's fine. You're too tired and needy for anything else, and you think that he might be, too.

Between the slow, deep thrusts and his hand moving up to almost absentmindedly play with your breasts, it's hard to even think. It could be the lack of sleep that's to blame, but as the pleasure ripples through you in gentle waves, it nearly feels like being put in some sort of trance. Mind going almost hazy with it, your world slowly but surely shrinks down until he's all that exists. His touch, his smell, the way he fills you as he bottoms out, velvety, thick and perfect.

"Fucking love that you need me like this," he murmurs, pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of your shoulder.

You can't even disagree at this point but you're not sure how to respond to it, either. In the end you just nod shakily, wrapping your fingers around his forearm, feeling the firm flex of muscle there as he moves.

"Don't stop…"

The way your release builds is different when he's not even touching you like you're used to. It's a slow, tingling, skittish thing, one you can't even begin to chase for fear that it'll disappear at the first sign of tension. Instead all you can do is breathe and relax into it as he pushes you closer to an edge that's aching and sweet like molasses.

His voice in your ear is sweet too, breathless and soft and perfectly filthy as he eggs you on.

"You gonna show me?" There's that cockiness that you've come to love, though it's more of a sleepy drawl at the moment. "Come for me like this?"

"Want to, so fucking badly," the words are choppy and high and reedy, but you don't care. Can't care. Not when your entire body is buzzing with pleasure until it feels like you could burst, or perhaps float away. "Just a bit more, please…"

"Yeah?" He could end it all much quicker if he'd just reach down and touch you, but he doesn't. It's either stubbornness or something else, but he doesn't change a thing about what he's doing. Just stays pressed deep inside, hips rocking lazily against you, every pull and twist of his fingers making you tremble in his arms. It feels as if it goes on forever, until you're almost dizzy with it and not sure if this mindless, expansive pleasure even has a peak to reach.

It does, though.

You don't mean to get loud, but as the wave finally starts to crest, it's impossible not to. His hand shooting up to cover your mouth must be the fastest he's moved all night, but you're too far gone to even notice. Even him trying to shush you is mostly useless, because the orgasm that rips through you is consuming. It's greedy and deep and has you feeling as if you could swallow him whole if he doesn't keep moving.

"Oh, fuck…" The words are drawn out and shaky, somewhere between a laugh and a groan as he pants against the back of your neck, "oh, sweetheart…"

And it doesn't stop. It's as if your body has been turned into a newton's cradle, because every time he pushes his cock into your spasming walls your cunt responds in kind, drawing him in and clamping down. It leaves you limp and weakly whimpering into the palm of his hand even as the pleasure starts to slowly wind down.

He's not far behind though, tense and desperate and pressed so close that it feels like he'd crawl under your skin if you let him. You can hear it when he reaches the point of no return, chest heaving as his unneeded breath first catches and then quickens, turning ragged in the seconds before he tips over the edge. A few stuttering, sloppy thrusts and he finally does, throbbing deep inside of you. The noise he makes as he empties himself is a breathless, broken thing, voice almost cracking with it, and there's definitely words somewhere in there, but he quickly muffles them in the crook of your neck.

He's trembling, after. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable as he sags against you, completely spent. He also seems to have forgotten about the hand covering your mouth still, and you can't resist pressing a kiss to his palm, making his shoulders hitch with a choked laugh as he pulls it away.

"Feel better?" He sounds about as wrung out as you feel, almost making you feel a bit bad for waking him up in the first place, even if it hadn't been intentional.

"Think so." And you definitely do, bone weary and content, the earlier anxiety feeling like nothing more than a distant memory. He stays like that for a little while, holding you close, seemingly too tired for much else. But then, so are you. Between the languid pace and being mostly room-temperature there's barely any sweat to speak of, so it's surprisingly nice, even as he goes soft inside of you. When he eventually slips out, you're too spent to do much of anything about the mess that slowly coats your inner thighs. Finally dropping a quick kiss to your shoulder he pulls away, stretching out with a groan before flopping onto his stomach with a contented sigh.

After being on your side, it feels nice to roll over onto your back, though the way he looks at you is very distracting.

"What?" Do you have something on your face?

"Nothing, just…"He looks exhausted but almost proud, eyes half-lidded as he shoots you a dozy grin. Grabbing a pillow, he gives it a few quick smacks to fluff it before making himself comfortable. "Gonna make you come like that again, later."

"That a promise, or…?"

"Mm-hm."

"Don't go making promises you can't keep, because I'll… " Trailing off, you can barely suppress a yawn.

He just mumbles something unintelligible in response. It's almost enviable how quickly he nods off after that, even though sleep feels within reach for you too, now. But more than that there's that tenderness sneaking in again, because it's quick. Something about it makes your heart pinch in your chest, though you can't quite articulate precisely why. Maybe because it's not that long ago that just spending the night would've been almost unthinkable. Even after that, he'd never fall asleep first.

But you say nothing. Let him sleep.

In the morning you know he'll probably be complaining about your coffee-maker again, because he always does. He'll still insist on using it rather than resorting to instant coffee, though, and you already know which cup he'll be grumbling those complaints into, leaning against the kitchen counter and looking perfectly out of place in your tiny kitchen. Or perhaps simply perfect. Maybe a bit of domesticity isn't so bad, after all.

⁂

AO3

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[sillyromance]

I read your knockout headcanons thing and uh, you wouldn’t happen to have any for flamewar would you??

Hello, dear cybersoldier82!

Thank you very much for your ask! I'm sorry that I haven't answered you straight away. Actually, I'm not familiar with the character since I have never read any comics where Flamewar appears, however, I've done some research and figured out her personality (more or less). I really hope that you'll like my writing. Have a nice day!

Flamewar🗡️

Flamewar is a fem who is difficult to be around. She can be cold, sarcastic, even cruel to her partners, especially, if they don’t share her beliefs and ideals – then, considering her hot and wayward temper, she will make sure their lives turn into pure hell. So, the only possibility to co-exist with this ruthless fire lies in being the most loyal friend and supporter for this transformer. Of course, it won’t save you from her bold commentaries and rudeness, but, surely, she will think twice before sacrificing your life for whatever goal she has.

As a pred, Flamewar can appear in two different positions – terrifying monster and distant, but gentle protector. Obviously, if a human sympathizes Autobots, the fem will bring them the most painful, horrifying death she can; cries and pleas of her unlucky victims give her indescribable pleasure – if you get in her claws, there is no way out...

However, if you are a person who genuinely cares about her, who proved themselves to be the most reliable and competent in their area, Flamewar may open her spark for you one day. And if you make her genuinely smile or laugh – then you can pridefully say that you domesticated a wild tiger.

I wouldn’t call her a comforting type – she is rough to others as well as to herself, so it should be something TRULY serious to make her show just a bit of pity. On the other hand, she definitely doesn’t like TO BE SHOWN pity! That way, if she’s upset or angry, it’s better to leave her be for some time, just being around in case she changes her mind and asks you for help directly (it’s not an easy task for her, be patient; she will do so only if you worth it in her opinion). At such moments, she likes having a willing living creature inside her; it gives her a sense of control and warmth of companionship which Flamewar lacks since she doesn’t completely trust anyone. She will sit motionlessly in the corner, embracing her knees, optics closed, and simply give in to the nice feeling of her human moving in the fueltank, the only person who is allowed to be so intimate with her...

As I said before, Flamewar has a great potential for being a protective pred. The one who will make fun on you, drive you crazy, kick you in the guts all the time – but also the one who will risk their life to save yours and beat hell out of those who would touch you even with a tip of a finger (or a digit). The fem is strong and literally made of steel – where is a better place to hide her precious tiny than her own body? If you’re in danger, she will swallow you immediately. Sometimes everything can happen very fast, without a warning, but she remembers about humans’ fragility – she isn't just a soldier but a scientist, she knows when it’s required to be careful – consequently, the trip down isn't long, but it isn't uncomfortable either. Although, you shouldn’t hope for convenience while she has a fight to win – she may avoid using some moves which can toss you too much, but her body is made for a combat style which doesn’t allow her to stay still for long - there will be some throwing and squeezing.

I’d like to think that her intensities are not that sensitive; they are covered in scars left by serious battle injuries or her not-so-welcomed guests who are now gone for good in great agony… But she appreciates affection from her little friend. Flamewar loves receiving rubs – caresses make her softer and more talkative, though not for long. Take the opportunity while you can! Her fueltank is spacious and active (the organ shows true emotions of its owner no matter how hard she tries to hide them). It has cobalt color and glows with reddish or dim yellow. The fem doesn’t like tickles that much; still, if it’s right time, she won’t mind. As for tasting, she adores mouthplay and often does it for fun or intimidation. Nevertheless, Flamewar doesn't pay too much attention to flavours (she is not picky, war and its difficulties - especially, lack of fuel - are strict teachers after all), although, if she gets impressed, her preys can receive some commentaries like: "Not bad!" or "That's not what I've expected... Intriguing." In general, Flamewar can seem unsociable and grumpy, but if there is something special about you that draws her attention, you'll instantly feel it.

[animasola86]

(MODERN AU) In Your Care - 3

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!mc x m!oc Genre: Angst/Smut/Drama // Words: 3.9k // [READ ON AO3]

Synopsis: After months of enduring the most vile things her new foster family put her through, Nebbia finds herself at the end of the road, and there is only one way out - a decision that connects her even more to Sebastian.

WARNINGS: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Psychological trauma! Panic attacks! Sexual abuse/domestic violence! Forbidden foster siblings relations! Horny and damaged teenagers! Murder/Death! (Original characters!)

NOTES: This is chapter 3 of my AU series IN YOUR CARE (see Ch1 and Ch2). It's set in modern times, there's no magic, just life in its most cruel form. In this chapter we go even deeper down the drain, so to speak, so please look very closely at the warning tags! Proceed at your own risk!

← CHAPTER 2 - // - CHAPTER 4 →

3

“Nebbia!”

The voice carried through the haze clouding her panicked mind as she kept running, her legs trembling from exertion and hysteria while hot tears streamed down her numb cheeks. Her lips were tingling painfully with every rapid breath she took.

“Wait! Please!”

She didn't stop, stumbling forwards, onto the open road, over it, almost tripping over a fallen branch before she reached the woods beyond and hastily rushed through the underbrush, not caring about twigs and thorns scratching up her skin, clinging to her clothes. She just wanted to get away. Far, far away.

But suddenly there was a hand brushing against her arm, and she yelped and ran faster, but the unexpected touch made her tumble, and with a helpless cry she fell forwards, ready to meet the ground, until two arms wrapped around her and pulled her back against a warm chest.

She kicked and whimpered as the momentum of her flight and the other body pushing against her made her legs give way, and she slipped to her knees, crying mercilessly as her mind gave up. The body behind her held her tighter, shushing her soothingly, and she only finally relaxed when she heard his voice right in her ear, his warm breath ghosting her skin.

“It's alright, love, I'm here. It's just me. It's okay...”

She let out a noise that was something between a hysterical sob and a relieved gurgle, and in the next moment she turned slightly and threw her arms around Sebastian's neck. He immediately grabbed her firmer, his strong arms squeezing her panic right out of her, or so she hoped.

He shifted to sit on his knees and pulled her onto his lap, burying his face in her hair as she pressed her head against his neck, her tears flowing freely as she squeezed her eyes shut and lay still in his arms. His deep breaths calmed her, slowly, and after a long moment of her quietly sobbing and the noises of the woods surrounding them, she felt her heart beating slower again.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, moving his hand over her back in relaxing circles.

She inhaled sharply, still not able to speak, let alone voice the thing that had made her spiral right out of control in the first place. She had feared this might happen, for two years she had been dreading the day, and even though she had been distracted by her new life, it had always been in the back of her mind. Taking another shuddering breath, she pressed her lips to his warm neck, his scent and feel filling her senses.

“I... I can't...” she stammered, sniffling helplessly, unable to say it out loud.

He exhaled loudly and pressed her closer to his chest. “Okay,” he whispered. “Take your time, it's alright...”

She kissed his neck again in response and forced herself to focus on him, feeling his warm body wrapped around hers, his soft breath making her hair fly and her skin tingle, his low voice vibrating soothingly through her head, as she grabbed the back of his shirt tightly and inhaled deeply. But before she could finally find the words to describe why she had panicked, she heard him whisper:

“It's him, isn't it? The new kid they brought here today?”

A gasp slipped from her lips and he squeezed her even tighter upon hearing it. “Yes,” she muttered into his neck, her wet cheek leaning on his shoulder.

“He's the one who –”

She twitched in his embrace, a sudden jerk rushing through her body like an electric shock. Her hands dug into his shirt, almost ripping it. Her mind was flooded with images then, and she was unable to suppress them anymore. Her heart tightened as she felt a new wave of hysteria crashing over her, along with all those memories of nightly visits, painful encounters, spiteful words and actions, of being used and abused and treated as if she was nothing but a toy.

Voices crept into her head, crude and vulgar, deceivingly praising and covertly degrading. Her skin was crawling, her lips tingling badly, her face felt numb as she sobbed and whimpered, her breaths short and ragged. And while she was caught in her worst nightmare that had once been real, she felt two hands on her cold face.

“Nebbia! Look at me!” Her eyes fluttered open, more tears spilling from her lashes as she met the warm gaze of two brown eyes, eyebrows furrowed in concern, jaw clenched empathically, and she felt her lips trembling even more and hiccoughs shaking her small form. “Shh, it's alright,” Sebastian continued, looking at her intently, holding her face until the tingling sensation subsided slowly. “I'm here, okay? I won't let anything happen to you!”

She blinked quickly, her vision blurry, but gradually, she could focus on his freckled face again, her eyes moving over his handsome features, and as she started counting the tiny dots on his cheeks, she felt herself relaxing again, her lungs and stomach aching. She pressed her lips together and took deep breaths through her nose, and he nodded at her encouragingly.

“Deep breaths, yes, you're good, you'll be fine,” he whispered, watching her closely, his fingertips slipping into her hair as his thumbs caressed her wet cheeks. It wasn't the first time he had seen her like this, and even though she felt embarrassed for reacting so strongly, for being unable to control herself, she felt safe with him, calming down more and more, knowing that he wouldn't judge her. “Breathe in,” he instructed quietly, his dark eyes on her the entire time. “And breathe out...”

She followed the rhythm he provided, and while getting lost in his gaze, the tremors of her body stopped eventually, and she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He let go of her face and pulled her against him, both arms wrapped tightly around her as she relaxed in his grip, feeling boneless and spent, but in a totally different way than she normally would have felt when using those adjectives.

“What... is he doing here?” she whispered after a long moment of silence, with only the birds singing around them and the wind making the treetops sway and rustle.

“I don't know,” he replied hoarsely, exhaling loudly. “But he won't be staying here, I won't let him. We have to tell them...”

She winced. “No... we can't... please...”

“Why not?” he said with a defiance that made her gasp against him. “Please, Nebbia, if they knew what that arsehole did to you, they wouldn't bring him here in the first place, orphan or not! They can't take in everyone!”

“They took us in,” she whispered barely audible. “And we might even be worse...”

“No, we're not,” he said resolutely. “We're fighters, we escaped on our own, we chose life instead of hell! You did the right thing, Nebbia! There was no other way you could have escaped that awful place!”

“I doubt he'll see it the same way...” she croaked, taking a shuddering breath. “When it was me... who made him an orphan...”

“He should be lucky you spared him,” he said through gritted teeth. “I know I wouldn't have...”

She leaned against him, her fingers digging into his shirt as another wave of memories flooded her senses. Yet she was too exhausted to fall into a new panic attack as she remembered the fatal day where everything had been too much.

Two years earlier

She was aching, her entire body sore and itching. The night had been another one of James' experiments, and she could still feel the vibrations of the various toys he had tested on her. Her knees were shaking as she stumbled through the kitchen in the dim light of the moon pouring through the dirty windows. She was so thirsty, her head was near exploding and her lips chapped so badly she tasted blood.

Luckily he had fallen asleep right after using her, and she had slipped from her room with his cum still leaking from her hurting ass. She hadn't bothered putting on panties, she didn't even care that she dripped all over the floor. Almost mindlessly, barely able to think straight, she tumbled through the dark house, passing closed doors and rumbling snores, until she leaned heavily against the kitchen sink, opened the faucet and poured cold water over her hot face and into her dry mouth.

Completely lost in the soothing sensation as she felt it running down her hurting throat, she didn't notice the footsteps until it was too late. Suddenly two big hands grabbed her bare ass and squeezed tightly, she yelped in surprise but was pushed back over the sink, her stomach pressed hard into the edge of the counter.

“What a nice surprise,” a low, raspy voice, slow but menacing, grunted behind her, and she whimpered helplessly. “I see he's prepared you already, huh, sweetheart?”

She struggled but couldn't fight it when she felt a thick finger pressing past the tight ring of muscles, the wet squelching sound almost as nauseating as the stench of alcohol drifting towards her as she was pulled up by another hand grabbing her throat. She gasped and whined as she saw the burly body of her foster father pressed against hers. His finger was still lodged inside her ass, moving lazily in and out, pushing his son's cum deeper. A wail escaped her, and she grabbed at his hairy arm, fingernails scratching over his skin.

“Please...” she whimpered, knowing it wouldn't help, but despite it all, she couldn't just give in, there was still that tiny voice that told her to endure, the day would come, sooner than she thought. Where it all ended.

He grunted and pulled his finger out, wiping it clean on her thigh. “Shut up,” he growled, and the hand holding her throat squeezed it tightly. “My turn now...” He slurred his words, and his stance wasn't as steady, but when he pushed her forwards forcefully, over the sink again, she cried out in pain while his sweaty hands roamed her body until they grabbed her hips with an iron grip. He forced her legs apart with one knee, and while she squirmed, he stepped closer, and she could feel his erection pressing against her inner thigh.

Her hands closed around the edge of the sink as she gritted her teeth, silent tears streaming down her face. Closing her eyes, she tried to disassociate, forcing her mind away to better places, but there was only darkness, and when he pressed his dick into her tight hole, the darkness turned bright red as she wailed loudly.

He didn't even care to silence her this time, he just rutted into her like a feral dog, grunting and growling, stretching her muscles painfully, and luckily for her he was done quickly, without his son's youth and stamina, and when he came inside her, he groaned deeply, then stumbled back, slipped out and wiped his leaking cock between her ass cheeks before slapping them violently.

She cried out, her body trembling, her insides convulsing. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her up before he brought his face to her ear, his hot breath reeking of alcohol while the stench of sweat assaulted her nostrils.

“Thanks, honey,” he rasped and slapped her ass once more before he let her go and walked away, leaving her to slip down to the ground, where she remained, curling up helplessly, sobs and tremors shaking her tiny form.

She had no idea how long she stayed in the fetal position, barely able to breathe through her tears, while the house around her remained threateningly silent. The moonlight moved over the dirty floor, and she watched it out of burning eyes, feeling dirty and empty and yet...

Her mind was racing, that voice keeping her company, corrupting her with images of past events and future happenings. “They will never stop,” it whispered to her. “Unless you make them stop...”

“Make them stop,” she repeated quietly, barely audible, her eyelids heavy and the movements of her limbs sluggish as she finally uncurled and crawled forwards, reaching for the cupboard under the sink. Her shaking hands knocked over various bottles until her fingers closed around one with a large skull and bones symbol on it. “Make them... stop...” she whispered as she picked up the rat poison.

It had been too easy, really. Too easy and yet not good enough.

With the encouraging voice inside her head and a determination to finally be free, she had started preparing dinner, cutting old vegetables that seemed ironically fitting for what she had planned, still basked in moonlight, covered in sweat and other juices, her muscles aching and her lungs hurting, but her heart had beaten fast and strong as the plan had made her come back alive slowly.

Once the stew was done, she had emptied the entire bottle into the broth, shaking with anticipation as she imagined them eating it, choking on it, dying from it. The image helped her forwards as she returned to her room, finding James still sprawled on her bed, sleeping deeply, and she had stared at him for a moment, wondering if she should end it right here, right now.

But she knew he was a light sleeper, and smothering him with a pillow was not a good idea in her exhausted state, no matter how much she wanted it, he was still stronger than her. He had proven that time and time again. So she exhaled loudly and lay down on the floor, cuddled into the pile of laundry until she fell asleep somehow.

The next hours were a blur.

Through the fog in her head she woke up to a foot nudging her thigh. She stirred, groaning under the aching of her body as she rolled around, looking up out of hooded eyes. James stood over her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Get up, princess,” he said with a growl, tilting his head. “Let's get some food, Ma made stew.”

His words immediately caused her insides to ignite. She sat up quickly, rubbing her eyes, and when he grabbed her elbow to pull her up she let out a pained grunt. He gave her another nudge.

“Put on my favorite dress,” he told her, pointing to the yellow sundress he had bought her a few weeks ago. It was crinkly and probably still covered in dried cum because he made her wear it so often, loving to take her in it, no matter where they were.

He watched her get dressed, a hungry glint in his cold gray eyes. But she didn't care about his lustful gazes or vulgar thoughts, she was solely focused on the fact that her plan was unfolding. And suddenly she was afraid. She wanted to be free of these people, but was she really able to let this happen?

Was she able to kill them?

James ushered her into the kitchen and made her sit at the round table where she met the drowsy gaze of her foster father, while his wife stood by the stove and stirred the stew Nebbia had made that night. She looked confused, probably wondering why she couldn't remember making it but seeing her dilated pupils, the flustered girl knew that woman was high on drugs still or already again, so it didn't really matter.

Sitting awkwardly at the table, a rather rare occurrence in this household but nobody seemed to mind it much, she shifted in her seat uncomfortably, both from the aching in her lower body and the panic eating away at her already frayed nerves. She didn't flinch when she felt not one, but two hands on her thighs as father and son stared at her, thinking back to the things they did to her last night and all the nights and days before. And seeing their leering faces, she grew determined that this was the only way out.

Pressing her lips together, she endured, waiting, waiting, almost going insane waiting, until the large pot was put down in the middle of the table, steam and strange odors coming from it. “Dig in,” her foster mother slurred and put a large ladle into the broth, and she watched in absolute tension how they all filled their plates while she sat there and wondered where she had put the empty rat poison bottle.

Cold sweat made it to her forehead, and her breaths grew quicker as her foster parents started eating with no care in the world, while James raised his spoon before suddenly stopping, looking at her.

“Come on, eat,” he told her, nudging her elbow. She stared at the steaming liquid on her own plate, when another voice croaked in the back of her mind.

“Let's just end it,” it whispered encouragingly, like a promise, a hand stretched out to grab and be pulled into eternal darkness. It was so tempting, and frankly, if the boy next to her would urge her to eat, she would probably have done it, but a sudden gurgle made her gasp and look up.

On the other side of the table sat her foster mother, holding her throat, gagging badly. “Ma!” James exclaimed and stood up quickly, and Nebbia was thrown out of her stupor and into action herself.

She jumped up and ran, not turning back, not looking back, as more gurgles and groans and grunts filled the kitchen, then heavy bodies thudding to the floor and desperate cries of a son seeing his parents suffer and die right in front of him.

Nebbia felt tears in her eyes, but she kept moving, through the house, out of the door, pushed forwards by guilt and the growing urge to be free, to get away, to finally leave the hell that had almost destroyed her. The more steps she took, the better she could breathe, yet her vision was blurry as she stumbled along the empty road, dragging her bare feet over the asphalt.

Suddenly the sound of sirens cut through the air, and an ambulance rushed past her, back towards the house at the edge of town.

She kept going, her legs aching, her body tense, her face wet, with no idea where she should even go. Exhaustion washed over her and she tripped, falling to her knees and scraping them, but the pain barely registered in her clouded mind. She was about to get back up, when a car horn made her jump and yelp in shock. Bleary eyes moved up, and she saw a man and a woman looking at her through the open window of a truck that had stopped beside her, blocking her from oncoming traffic.

“Nebbia?” the woman asked, her voice kind and soft, and she frowned deeply. She didn't know why she felt the need to trust her, but she somehow did, and when she nodded, the woman smiled at her.

She didn't even ask why she knew her name, she felt too numb to think anything at this point. A car door was opened, and she saw another person sitting on the backseat, beckoning her closer. A boy, older than her, with the blackest eyes she had ever seen. He gave her a smirk, and she felt herself blushing. Yet she didn't move immediately, only when the woman was suddenly next to her, looking at her almost motherly (not that she knew how that would look like, but it felt right, soothing), she stirred in her stupor.

“We have to go, Nebbia,” she told her. “It's not safe here...”

She stared up at the strange woman, barely taking in her features as she was already gently shoved onto the backseat. The voices inside her head grew louder, some protesting, some warning, some giving in. Some wanting to tell that lady that it hadn't been safe here for months. But she didn't say anything out loud, just complied and sat down next to the boy on the backseat.

He looked almost as disheveled and dirty as she did, as if he had been living on the streets or also in a negligent household, and somehow seeing someone else like her made her feel better. He smiled at her, and she felt her swollen lips twitching.

“I'm Ryan, by the way,” he said as the woman got back in the car, and the man started driving away. Nebbia nodded at him, shy and disturbed, but drawn to his dark eyes. “You're lucky we found you.”

“Ryan, shh!” the woman said from the front and put a finger to her lips.

The boy shrugged, but kept his eyes on Nebbia who felt even smaller in the big seat of the truck. Her confused gaze wandered past the leathery interior, and she realized they were driving right by the house she had just left, and she pressed her lips together to not make a sound as she noticed the flashing lights of the ambulance and a cop car in the driveway.

Breathing quicker through her nose, she looked away and stared at her trembling hands in her lap. “It's okay, it's over,” the boy next to her whispered, and she looked up in surprise. “You're safe now.”

She frowned at him, but he only smiled, and to this day she had no idea how they had even found her, why at that particular moment, if it was coincidence or planned a long time ago, and she wondered why they didn't come sooner, before she had to go through all of this. Yet her anger soon faded, and she felt more and more at ease, even though she had no idea who these people were, but the more distance they put between her and that awful house, the freer she felt, the better she could breathe.

Whatever lay ahead, it couldn't get any worse.

And luckily for her, she finally, after so many years of hardships and months of abuse, finally found a home that welcomed her with open arms, with smiles and kind words, and for two long years she felt safe, was able to grow and prosper, live a normal life with new friends, she even found love and successfully worked through her trauma, or so she thought.

Because she might have been able to rid the world of two abusive and negligent people who would no longer take in innocent kids to leech off the money the government would give them, but she hadn't managed to destroy the last danger that threatened to pull her down into the abyss all over again.

And fate was apparently a very cruel mistress to bring the same danger right into the safe haven she had called home. But luckily for her, there were still other forces in her favor because this time she wasn't alone anymore. She wouldn't be facing the threat on her own, she was no longer the silently enduring kid, she had grown, not necessarily in height, but in strength and willpower, in the desire to live and keep living, and nothing would be standing in her way.

Or so Nebbia hoped as she lay trembling in Sebastian's arms, still recovering from the wave of panic attacks a single look from those cold gray eyes had caused in her. And she couldn't even imagine what actually meeting James again would be like.

← CHAPTER 2 - // - CHAPTER 4 →

End notes: What do I even say to this? All I can say is: I am sorry and I hope you know this is fiction, in its darkest form, but still not real, no matter how realistic it may seem. I am sorry if I caused you any discomfort, believe me, it was hard to write as well.

Nebbia's trauma is now told and it can only go up from here. Right? Yes! (Maybe... probably.) It will, there will be a happy ending, sort of. We need to have darkness to enjoy the light!

Thank you for reading this, despite its twisted nature!

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