#just jumping up and down trying to whack him over the head

[somecunttookmyurl]

I'm playing AC Odyssey for the first time and let me tell you, when the modern FL mentioned Herodotus as their source and that he was a historian my soul left my body lmao

when @thatlittleegyptologist she tried, repeatedly, in vain to kill herodotus but he's an unkillable npc

deeply frustrating

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[webslingingslasher]

Hi can I ask for a blurb where Peter accidently hits the reader while playing or something like he sometimes forgets about his super strength but fluff at the end please 🥺.

this got away from me but this was so fun and cute to write!

“I kinda want a black eye.” 

Your boyfriend slowly lowered the bag of peas on his left eye, his elbow dropped daringly, forcing you to look at the dark purple hue. 

“Oh, really?” 

You nod, “it looks gnarly but it’d be cool to have one.” 

“Baby, my heartbeat is currently taking place from my eyeball. You don’t want one.” 

Stretching across the space on the couch you raise Peter’s hand back up so he can ice the bruise some more, it does look painful. 

“I think if you loved me you’d give me one.” 

Peter took a second to see if that sentence would resonate with you but it hadn’t. 

“We should go to the women's shelter and spread that knowledge.” 

You scoff, “they weren't asking for it, Peter. I am.” 

Your boyfriend lowered his temporary ice pack and reached a hand out, his thumb rubbed under your eye, you almost thought he was thinking about it. Almost. 

“I’d never. I would, however, patch you up if you ever got one.” 

“Do you have a friend that could-” 

“No.” 

—------------------------------------

Oh FUCK did your eye HURT. 

It was on a level ten throb level, it felt like a ring stretching to your eyebrow and nose. You couldn’t even open it, all you could do was press your hand to it and try and stop the pressure from building, it didn’t work. 

You were able to blink it open just enough to be blinded by the living room light, you’ve never been so light sensitive. Squeezing it shut you winced, you tried to be understanding and calm; it was an accident after all. But the pain was spreading all over your face and you had a target right on the corner of your right eye, and it hurt. 

If your right eye could open it’d be shedding tears too, you had one continuance stream coming from your left eye. 

Your voice bubbles with pain, “petey, it hurts.” 

Your boyfriend couldn’t even breathe right now, he had hurt you. The one thing he swore he would never, could never do, and he did it. Panic flooded his body, panicked he’s caused serious damage, panicked you’d be scared of him, panicked you’d dump him, panicked your dad would come curbstomp him. 

“It hurts so bad,” he knows you’re calling out for him, he knows you need him, but all he could replay was the ‘whack!’ in his head. It wasn’t gentle in the slightest, you whipped away from him with a hiss, your hand immediately covering your eye. You had been okay at first but after a minute had passed it became nearly unbearable.

Peter knows how bad a black eye hurts, and he just gave you one. 

His short, barely there breaths start to stutter.  

And suddenly Peter couldn’t see because his vision was muddled by tears, he tried to blink them back but they ran. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but this brought him to his knees. He never wanted to punish himself more than in that second. He should’ve been quicker, he should’ve known you were behind him, he has those goddamn senses and they did nothing in that moment. 

“Peter!” A desperate cry for attention, you don’t know what to do, it hurts more than you could imagine. 

You look up at your boyfriend still standing in shock where he jumped away from you after hitting you directly in your eye. A wrestling battle, you had tried to take him down after he’d pinned you three times. In an effort of a sneak attack you crawled up the couch and tried to jump on his back where he sat on the floor. You dived and at the last moment his hand… well you don’t know what he was trying to do but it connected hard to your cheekbone. 

Your back hit the couch and you held your hand as you hissed and groaned in hurt, Peter scrambled up and backed up behind the coffee table, as if he was scared to be around you.  

He’s crying, your boyfriend’s crying. You’ve been punched and he’s crying. 

“I’m.. I’m sorr.. Fuck.” Peter snaps out of it, you need him. He crosses to the couch in two steps, his hand cupping your cheek. It makes everything in him deflate when you flinch as he touches you, he bites his bottom lip to stop a sob. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

His heart hurts as you cry, his thumb taps at your hand covering the damaged eye. The one he caused. 

“Let me see it, please?” Peter said it like a question, like he’d ever be lucky enough to have that privilege. 

You sob, “it hurts.” 

Peter blinks, more tears. He can’t believe he’s crying over this, he also can’t believe he hit his fucking girlfriend. 

“I know, I know it does, baby. Please let me see it.” 

You choke in air to stop your crying, it works. You slowly lift your hand off your eye, it’s not throbbing as much but the pressure has inflated tenfold and you couldn’t open it if you tried, it was swollen shut. You tried to gauge a reaction out of him, to see how bad it is. You forgot your boyfriend had the world’s best poker face. 

Peter wanted to curl up into a ball when he saw the damage. 

It was bruising, and swollen and you couldn’t open your eye and it was all his fault. 

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

If he was normal, if he was a normal boyfriend, this wouldn’t have happened. A normal teenager doesn’t have the strength to hold a ferry or stop a runaway bus, he does. And he used that strength on you. 

His powers, his abilities, his strength.

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

“You need ice.” Is all that could come out. A wince wraps over your face when you nod, you try to sit up and groan. “Everything hurts. How do you do this? Pain has to affect you differently, right?” Peter ignored you as he backed away, you don’t think he’s ever been so aware of his surroundings and actions. 

He shouldn’t be getting ice, he shouldn’t be putting it in a plastic bag and wrapping a rag around it, he shouldn’t be grabbing you tylenol extra strength, he shouldn’t be icing your black eye he caused. 

His fault, his fault, his fault. 

It scared you how quiet he was, the accidental punch was just that. You weren’t upset at him or scared he would do it again, you were scared how odd he was acting. He was strangely quiet and standoffish, when he came back to you with ice and pills you watched him think about holding the bag to your eye but stopped and put it in your hand. 

He shifted his weight and looked at the couch, he stepped back and sat on the coffee table. 

Peter cried and was quiet and standoffish and scared to touch you. He was terrified of himself, you may be physically hurt but he was emotionally broken, his one major thing washed down the drain. Accident or not he gave you a black eye, and it was tearing him up inside. 

You hummed when ice hit the hot skin, suddenly it didn’t hurt. 

“Am I right, super high pain tolerance?” 

It’s like you broke through a wall, Peter looked up at you like he just found out you were in the room. 

“I hit you.” 

You would’ve rolled your eyes if you could’ve. 

“That’s a little dramatic.” 

Peter shook his head, upset you weren’t upset. 

“I hit you hard, I hurt you. I…” His hand pulled at his curls so hard you grit your teeth. “I fucking hit you,” he whispered it, like his own mind couldn’t wrap it around. 

He doesn’t pull out the fuck word often. 

You thought about reaching out for his hand, but you think that’d made things worse. 

“I’m not scared of you, petey. It was an accident.” 

“I swore i’d never hurt you, that I would never hit you and I didn’t-” 

“Mean it.” You cut him off, “you didn’t mean it.” 

Peter rubbed at his jaw and blinked, you saw tears puddling and you wanted to do nothing more than hold him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, you lowered the bag of ice from your eye prepared to switch seats. He wouldn’t let you. 

“Ice.” Cold and hard, like you had no other option. You didn’t question him, you followed instructions. 

“Remember when you asked me to give you a black eye months ago?” 

It was a joke. Sure, you saw a tiktok with a girl who had one and you couldn’t deny it looked a little cool. Then seeing one on Peter the same night you couldn’t shake it. You were just playing around, it’s not like it was that serious. 

“I was joki-” 

“I told you I'd never, and I did. I hit my girlfriend and gave her a black eye.” 

Disgust. That’s what it was. He was disgusted with himself. 

You sat up straight, your lip curled up. 

A black eye? Sick.

“Wait, really?” 

Peter looked up at your excitement, it came from nowhere. 

“You gave me a black eye? I have a black eye right now? For real, for real?” 

This wasn’t a cute or funny thing, and he won’t let you make it be one. 

He hit you.

“This isn’t funny, I hit you and you’re happy you got a black eye?” 

“Pete, I forgive you. And not just cause you gave me a black eye, because it was an accident and you didn’t mean to and you’re obviously extremely remorseful.” 

“But I-” 

You reached out for his hand, “forgive yourself. You forgive yourself.” 

It wouldn’t be instant, until your eye healed, which would be at a much slower rate than him, he wouldn’t be able to fully forgive himself. 

“No more wrestling.” 

You scoff, “no more sneak attacks, how about that?” 

He shook his head, “I don’t want this happening again.” 

“If the situation was reversed would you want me to hold it against myself?” 

Peter scoffed, “absolutely not, but it wouldn’t hurt me like it does you.” 

“So you do have a super high pain tolerance.” 

He snapped and ripped his hand from yours, “yes, I do have a super high pain tolerance. I also have super strength and give my girlfriend black eyes.” 

You held your hand up, the other one slightly freezing from the cold but you were too scared to take it off. 

“First off, plural. Second, please stop. You’re making me feel bad, I’m really okay and I’m not mad and I forgive you a thousand million percent.” 

Peter inhaled sharply, he has to believe you. He’s more shook up than you are and he guesses he should agree with you, you were the hurt one. If you forgive him he could try and do the same.

“I think you need to give me a black eye to even it out.” 

You gasp like your offended at his words, your hand lays over your heart. 

“I’d never!” 

Your boyfriend ran his tongue over his teeth and gave you a dead stare, his hands pushed him off the coffee table. His words grumbled, “toxic.” 

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (2)

...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!

Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Still stupid

Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)

Wordcount: 5k

~~~

The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.

Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.

The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.

Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.

You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.

You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.

Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.

Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.

Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.

You had started stroking him again.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”

“Honk!?”

“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”

“Honk!”

“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.

Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.

And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.

But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.

You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.

The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.

“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.

Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.

Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.

You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.

Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.

“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.

At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.

You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”

In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.

The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.

Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.

At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.

“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.

“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.

“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.

The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.

And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.

Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.

He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.

Was he… was he trying to fly?

The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.

Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.

“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.

Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.

“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.

So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.

At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.

Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.

The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.

The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.

Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.

The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.

Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.

You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.

The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.

And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.

The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.

You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.

He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.

The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.

“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.

The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.

You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.

He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.

“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.

The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.

“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.

You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.

After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.

He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.

The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.

“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.

“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.

“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.

“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.

“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.

“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.

A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.

“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.

“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.

The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”

Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.

“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.

You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.

You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!

When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.

You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.

You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?

You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.

Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.

Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.

On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.

It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.

Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.

Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.

Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.

The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.

The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.

Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.

The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.

He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.

Then absolute chaos broke out.

You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.

Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.

The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.

Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.

Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.

The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.

“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.

“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.

That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.

You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.

When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.

The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.

You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.

“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.

And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.

You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.

“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.

You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.

You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.

“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.

“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.

“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.

And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.

Tag list:

Tumblr taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe @sleepydang @spooniefulofsugar @shadowserpent4444 @mei-simp @shiningneedlecastle@indestructeible @catching-fire-in-the-wind

[luveline]

hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3

kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k

“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 

Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 

“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 

“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 

Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 

Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.

“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 

“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 

“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 

She grins. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You all done?” 

“Yep.” 

“Not hungry anymore?” 

“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 

“Thanks, beautiful.” 

She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 

Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 

Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 

She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 

“I’m tired.” 

“It’s not bed time.” 

She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 

“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 

“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 

“That sound fun or what?” 

She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 

He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 

You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 

“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 

“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 

You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 

Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 

I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 

“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 

“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 

“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 

Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 

“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 

“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 

“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 

“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 

He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 

“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 

He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”

“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.

“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 

“I didn’t say one!” 

“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 

“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”

You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 

“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 

Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 

Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 

Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 

Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 

If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 

You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 

You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 

“Oh, no,” Avery says. 

“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 

They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 

“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 

Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 

“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 

You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 

“Gonna get Beth changed.” 

“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 

It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 

“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 

The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 

Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 

“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 

“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 

“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 

“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 

Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 

“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 

This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 

“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 

She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 

“Sorry,” she laughs. 

“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 

Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 

“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.

He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 

“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 

“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 

Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 

Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 

“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 

You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 

He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 

“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 

You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 

Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 

“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 

“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 

“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 

“What?”

“You okay?”

“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 

He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 

“Feels too good to be true.” 

“My turn tonight,” he says. 

“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 

“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”

“I want them too,” you say. 

“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 

Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 

“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 

“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  

[schlattsdarling]

6 + 24 w schlatt 🤭 maybe they're at a party or something and (with all of the liquid courage) reader begins shamelessly flirting w him!

Hope you like this anon! Please lmk if you want a pt2 with 25 & 29 like you suggested.

6. "I could kiss you right now."

24. "How much did you drink?"

You glance over at Schlatt with a coy smile on your lips, your hair cascading in loose waves down your back as you saunter towards him. Schlatt watches you intensely, a mixture of admiration and nervousness as his eyes were locked on your every move; from the way your hips swing when you walk, to the way your eyes still glisten in the dimly lit room.

You lean in close to taller guy, eyes shining with confidence as you shamelessly take a seat very close to him.

"Hey you" Schlatt teased as you made yourself comfortable, "Having fun?"

You nod humming, "Nice jacket... you look good in brown" You slur slightly as you tug on the sleeve of his jacket.

He raised his eyebrow, "Yeah?". You nod along giggling as you playfully nudge him with your shoulder.

"You know," you slur slightly, eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief yet something deeper, "If you weren't my best friend, I'd probably kiss you right now."

You smirked, watching his expression shift between surprise and amusement. Your words hung in the air, half-joking but undeniably true. Schlatt stammered over his words, a bit flustered, but there was a softness in his gaze as he looked at you, a spark of something new and unspoken.

"What, you think a little kiss is gonna ruin our friendship?" You taunt, your voice teasing but edged with curiosity. Heart racing as you watched him, waiting for his response. He hesitated, a crooked smile tugging at his lips as he searched your face, trying to decipher how much of this was the alcohol and how much was something more.

"I mean well-" Your lips crashed against his in a heated fury, the sexual tension between you both couldn't even be cut with a knife. Hunger, desire and pent-up feelings spilt out into the kiss. His hands tangled in your hair as he reciprocated the desire; the lines between friendship and passion blurring into something undeniable and irresistible.

"What was that?" He asks dumbfounded as you both pull away, breathing heavily, "How much have you had to drink, y/n?" He questions you again, giving no time for a response.

"Literally like... 4 drinks!" You argue, counting awfully with your fingers.

"Bullshit" Schlatt scoffs out whilst still maintaining your intense gaze. "So what now?" He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear.

You shrug looking at him in a daze, your thoughts swirling. “I don’t know,” you admitted softly, the weight of everything that had just happened sinking in. But as you looked into his eyes, there was a silent understanding, a shared acknowledgement that whatever this was - it wasn’t something you could just ignore.

"Come on, lets go" He whispers in your ear, voice gentle as he stands up. He holds his hand out blushing as you grab it whilst slightly stumbling, falling into his chest. He looks at you like your the most valuable thing in the world, hands keeping you upright as you unsteadily stroll in front of him, rambling about anything that enters your mind.

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

You glance around the walls of Schlatt's room, the familiar space instantly comforting as you dived face first onto his bed; Schlatt stands in the doorway, classic 'dad stance' as you watches you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, guiding you to the bathroom. You jump up onto counter, groaning as you whack your head on the cupboard. Schlatt was patient, he gently kissed your head and wiped away the remnants of your makeup, his touch tender and careful. You closed your eyes, leaning into the warmth of his hand as he worked, the tension in your body easing with each gentle swipe.

“There you go,” he said softly, finishing up and brushing a stray hair behind your ear. His eyes softened as he looked at you, now bare-faced and vulnerable, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. He led you to his room, pulling out a large t-shirt and some soft sweatpants from his drawer. “Here, these will be more comfortable,” he said, handing them to you. You changed quickly, the clothes smelling faintly of him, a comforting scent that wrapped around you like a warm hug.

When you emerged, he was already in bed, lifting the covers and patting the spot next to him for you to join. You slipped in beside him, and he immediately pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you; the confusion of the night’s events seemed to melt away as you nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a sense of calm.

“Thanks, Schlatt,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as sleep began to take over. He looked down at you, a dopey smile on his face as he pressed his lips softly against yours, "Anytime toots"

[baby-dr1ver]

girls night in, guys night out

a/n: hello everyone! this is my second installment of dad!lando series. most of these can be read as one-shots but some (in the future) will connect. anyway, enjoy!

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

pairing: dad!lando x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, so much fluff, tooth rotting, kinda pouty lando lol

--you invite the WAGS over while the boys go out. Lando isn’t happy about leaving Atticus before bed time, but the guys are okay with being delayed after seeing the precious  moment between the three of you 

Getting Lando to go out has been difficult. Which is weird because Lando is a party animal-he sokes up everyone's energy and has never turned down going to a club. 

But ever since Atticus was born, parties and club visits have slowed down…almost to a stop completely. After every race, win or lose, he’d come back to the hotel room to the two if you. Curled up in bed by 9:30 instead of celebrating with the grid. 

Now that winter break was in full swing, you’d been pushing him to see his friends, even if it was just dinner. He’d always respond the same, “I’d rather be here with you and Atty.” And while that was sweet, he NEEDED to get out of the house. So, you invited all the WAG’s over while the guys tried to wrestle Lando into some “going out clothes” instead of his usual sweatpants and shirt covered in spit up and whatever else his gremlin threw at him. 

“Baby c’mon, it’s one night away.” Lando huffed as he flung himself on the bed. He was half dressed, desperately trying to convince you to let him stay home with the girls and Atticus. 

“What if this one night throws our whole routine out of whack?! What if he resents me? What if he stops-” you put a hand over his mouth before he could get another word out, knowing exactly 

what he was gonna say. “Lan, I seriously doubt that our baby who is 9 months old, will stop loving you because you went out for one night.” He pouts and pulls you down to lay with him. He looks over to the bassinet next to your bed, listening to your baby boy shuffle around. Lan knew he was overthinking things, maybe he really did need a night out. 

“Alright, I’ll go.” he said so lowly, you almost missed it. Almost. 

You sprung up and grabbed Atticus from the crib. “Why don’t you throw that black button up on and we’ll meet you in the kitchen.” Lando cocked his head to the side confused. “Can’t let you leave without helping me give him his night time bottle.” His face lit up with excitement. Lando got into action as you made your way downstairs. 

As you walked down to greet everyone, you couldn’t help but look down at the carbon copy of Lando in your arms. Same nose, same eyes and ears, same cheeky smile-you felt a little sad Lando was leaving but you knew this was what he needed. 

By the time Lando had made his way to the kitchen, you had already dimmed the lights and had everything laid out and ready. He stood back for a moment and watched the two most important people in his life be so entranced by one another, totally blocking out the rest of the world. He made his way up behind, careful not to make you jump, and laid a delicate kiss in your shoulder. 

“Hi” you whispered, never taking your eyes off Atticus. “Hi baby,” he replied with a small squeeze to your waist. “hi other baby.” he laughed to himself as his mini me just peered up at him. “Grab the bottles for me? Everything’s ready, just need to feed the little bean.” Lando nodded and grabbed the warm sippy cup full of milk and handed it to you. 

“Here why don't you” you paused and decided it would be easier to show him. You turned so you faced a little away from lando and brought him closer. You replaced the arm holding his legs with Landos so he supported his body too. He must have got the message because suddenly he let out a long breath and leaned into you. 

“Better?” He nodded and swayed a little to try and lull Atticus to sleep quickly. You all got comfortable under the dim lighting of the kitchen, Lando laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your scent. The little one looked up at you both with his big blue/green eyes, and reached out towards his dad. Lando stuck out his finger for him to grapple onto and just about glued himself to the floor so he’d never have to leave. 

You chuckled as you watched the pout form onto Lando’s face and leaned down to kiss his cheek. Atty let out a soft sigh through his nose, a sign he was on the brink of sleep. One trick you and Lando both knew would get him to sleep, was singing to him. 

He loved any music, whether it was rock, 80’s, indie, pop, EDM, you could always find Atticus Norris moving around to music.

But what really mesmerized him was the silky voice of Frank Sinatra or Doris Day. You quietly hummed “Dream a Little Dream of Me” while gently tracing his delicate features. “Sing for me?” lando asked as he looked over at you with identical eyes. You blushed and looked away as you softly started to sing. “..stars shining bright above you.” 

“Night breezes seemed to whisper, I love you.” you inhaled sharply as you heard Lando try to carry a proper tune. “Babe, don’t laugh.” You giggled and nudged you shoulder against his cheek. 

“I’m not, I promise, it’s cute. Love when you try to sing along.” Lando scoffed in mock offense as he started to try and defend himself without waking the babe. What you both failed to notice was that he had already fallen asleep, resting all his weight against the two of you. Still gripping onto Lando’s hand, the nipple of the cup was still stuck in his mouth. 

You could see the battle behind Lando’s eyes so you spoke up, “Wanna put him to bed? I’m sure the guys won’t mind being late by a few minutes." Lando smiled and nodded. You transferred the rest of Atticus’ limbs to him and watched him walk upstairs with all the grace in the world. 

Before you could really process, you heard sniffling behind you. You whipped around and saw the girls with their phones out, tear tracks on their faces. “...is everything alright?” 

Kika scoffed, “Alright? That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed!” the girls around her nodded as they dabbed their faces dry.

They disappeared around the corner, presumably to say goodbye to the HAB’s and you heard murmuring. 

“You can’t make him go! Please he won’t survive!”

“You didn’t see it, i have never seen him NOT wanna go out like that.”

“What?! He’s going out, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his curls out the door.” 

You giggled as you heard Max’s voice get louder. “Whatcha laughing about?” Lando asked as he came down the stairs. 

“Oh nothing, I just think that the guys are gonna leave you here if you don’t hurry.” he only grumbled and yelled. “Yeah I’m coming, I’m coming!” and disappeared out the door.

[m-ayo-o]

21+ bestie yuji x gn reader ORAL smutty slumber party. yes this is because i felt bad about forgetting him in the original play fight me post. 18+

thinking about... play fighting with YUJI in the bedroom.

you're having a slumber party with your bestie YUJI and he is wearing the sluttiest cutest pyjamas you've ever seen.

you stare a little and he feels like he has to explain himself "what? this is just what i sleep in..." he gestures to the skimpy shorts. he's not wearing anything on top, "or i'll get too hot."

they're too small for him. maybe he didn't realise he got bigger, but you did. you notice how he fills out the pretty pink material perfectly, seeing his ass cheeks bulge and flex while he lies down on the bed, flicking through your movie options for the night.

you jump onto the bed making him bounce and he gives you a funny look like you're trying to start a fight with him. he drops the remote and grabs a pillow and you start having the most intense pillow fight. more like a pillow battle. to the death. and you only stop when it gets way too silly- you nearly fell off the bed and he grabbed your arm only for you to land a solid whack on his head. he went down and you landed clumsily on top of him with your face on his tummy.

but he's naked there, and your face suddenly heats up from seeing him up close like this - the ridges and dips of his muscles, tanned skin, his dark brown body hair where his shorts slipped down - you stare. he watches you try to snap yourself out of it but he only encourages you to stare more, "you can touch me there, if you want."

you're so shocked and curious that you just have to and you feel him and his warm body and then, then you know it's all over. you tug his shorts down with his permission and you get the surprise of your life to see how big he is and you take him in your pretty mouth and suck him like the sweetest lollipop you've ever tasted.

but your friendship with YUJI will never be over. once he's finished cumming on your chest where you pulled your top down he helps you clean up and asks which movie you'd like to watch. he tells you that felt amazing and that you should have slumber parties more often.

yuji | m.list

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

pinch me

the wistful wyvern, chapter eight

a/n: i can’t believe this is the last chapter… this whole series is the thing that i’ve let myself go the most crazy with and not held back, so it’s kinda bittersweet when it comes to a close. it’s hard to say goodbye and let go of something you put so much work into, but it’s incredible to finally share the ending with you all so you can enjoy the story in its entirety.

summary: the wrestling was playful as you slowly shuffled further into the sparse cluster of trees. Giggling and shrieking, your back eventually collided with the trunk of a tree and Bucky pinned your hands above your head. 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, forced proximity, violence, injuries, kissing, oral, dirty talk, impact play, size kink, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, protected sex (a fantasy birth control tea commonly used by men), creampie, time jump

word count: 2562

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist

info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist

masterlist | join my taglist

“You know, it’s still not too late for you to apologise, we can both just go on our separate way,” you shrugged as you dodged the blow thrown by one of the bandits still on his feet before you. 

“Fuck you, you cunt!” he simply spat back. 

Blinking a moment, your head tilted slightly as you breathed out, “alright then,” and then clocked him in the face, making him stumble back, clutching his battered nose. 

One of the outlaws in the grass then lifted himself back up onto his feet behind where you stood and charged at you, raising the dull axe in his grasp up to attack. 

He only managed to nick your arm, and though a small cry did tumble out of your lungs, only a second passed before your fingers wrapped around the hilt of the weapon and you bashed the blunt side back against the bloke, knocking him back onto the ground. 

“You good?” Bucky’s voice found your ears and you glanced over to see him wrestling with his own half of the dubious group.

“Oh yeah,” you smiled and tossed the rusty axe further down into the field that unfolded on the side of the road, “I’m great,” before whacking your elbow over the dirty-mouthed man who stumbled back towards you, blood dribbling from his nose. 

Barely looking at his own opponents, the corners of your partner’s lips curled up as he purred, “that’s my girl.”

You had started by giving the highway robbers a generous out, stating that a fight between you two wardens and the eight of them just wouldn’t be fair. If they’d let one of you sit that one out and only fought either you or Bucky, then perhaps it would have evened the playing field just a bit more.

Yet, they didn’t heed your warnings and ended up losing in the blink of an eye. 

“You guys should really consider a career change,” you said as they all laid dazed and bruised on the ground, “or at the very least get better at this one.” 

As the pair of you went through and kicked their weapons far enough out of their reach, Bucky cast a glance at the boulder of a man curled up on the ground and clutching his arm. 

“Hey buddy,” your fellow warden called, “try and keep that elevated till you see a healer.” 

“Fuck you,” he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“You were the one that fell on it,” his arms raised up before he looked to the other bandits, “guys, can you please make sure he gets that checked out?” and after they grumbled in agreement to help their stubborn friend, Bucky exhaled, “great,” and turned to grasp Echo’s reins, the black stallion only a few paces away from the aftermath, “well, have a nice life!”

“See,” you uttered as the pair of you began to walk off, tugging the horse along, “I told you we shouldn’t have taken this road. I was a criminal, I know what roads are hot for highway robbers.”

“Yeah, well, you were always smarter than me,” he chuckled, then smirked in your direction, “isn’t that what you used to say whenever I’d let you win during training? That I might be stronger, but you’re smarter?”

“You did not let me win,” you gasped, immediately defending your recollection, “I always won fair and square!”

“Hm,” he hummed as he let his gaze dance over the patchy cluster of trees that began to bloom on the right-hand side of the dirt road, “you sure about that?” 

“Oh really?” your head cocked as you smiled back at him, “you wanna fucking go, Barnes?” 

“Why not?” he reached out to tickle your waist, “just had a little warm-up, didn’t we?” 

As Bucky let go of the reins, Echo simply dipped his head down to graze on the long grass below. 

The wrestling was playful as you slowly shuffled further into the sparse cluster of trees. Giggling and shrieking, your back eventually collided with the trunk of a tree and Bucky pinned your hands above your head. 

As you gazed back into his blue stare, the laughter began to fade from you both as another instinct entirely took over. 

Tilting his head, Bucky captured your lips and kissed you fiercely. His fingers, enclosed around your wrists, flexed as your lips parted in a giddy groan and made way for his tongue to slip past and catch a taste of your own. 

When his grip eventually loosened around you, his fingers floated down to weave within your hair and tilt your face to deepen the hungry kiss. 

Then, as your hands had started scraping down the cool iron of the partial chainmail on his torso, the tiny loops grazing your skin gently, he pulled back just enough for you both to catch your breath.

“Drop your drawers, snow,” he commanded playfully, nuzzling his nose softly against your own. 

His head tilted slightly so that his forehead rested against your own, and he shared your breath, as your fingers desperately soared to fulfil his demand. Undoing your pants, you swiftly shimmied them down till they were kicked off into the wild grass. 

After stealing another kiss from you, a smile then spread across your face as you watched Bucky sink down to his knees before you. Planting pecks across your thighs, his gaze flickered up to capture yours as his lips danced up to your right hipbone. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you chuckled and ran a hand through his brown locks. 

“But you sound so pretty when you do,” he smirked. The closer his peppering pecks got to your centre, the sloppier they grew, “just as pretty as when I do this,” he then closed the distance and flicked his tongue teasingly through your folds, dragging a whimper out of your throat. 

Thankfully, he only kept his cruelly light licks to a minimum before he lapped at you properly, swapping your squirming jolts out with a trembling rocking as he savoured your slickness swiftly soaking his short beard. 

Throwing your head back against the tree trunk, your fingers tangled in his hair as he enclosed around your clit. As your gaze fluttered down for his stare to capture yours, a warm rumble vibrated against your pearl as his eyes crinkled up and he smiled against your pussy. 

“O-oh, just like that,” you uttered breathily as your fingers combed through his locks before finding purchase in them, “feels so fucking good.”

His broad palms curled around to your bottom and groped the curve a moment before one of his hands slid down your thigh and plucked it off of the ground, hooking it over his wide shoulder and thereby drawing you that much closer to his greedy tongue. 

Tilting your hips slightly, his sloppy efforts only managed to wander down to your other hole for one kiss before everything unravelled inside of you and you came all over his face. 

Standing back up to his full height, Bucky ducked down to steal a brief kiss from your breathless lips, letting you taste yourself still freshly lingering on his tongue, before fervently spinning you around. 

Bracing against the tree, you peeked over your shoulder as his fingers hastily undid his trousers, his heavy lids staying glued to your backside. 

Silky moans seeped out of the both of you in unison when he slowly buried himself in you. Melting down against your spine a moment, you felt the reassuring weight of his head against your shoulder, panting against your tunic, as his girth settled inside of you, your cunt dripping around him, begging for his movements to pick up.

“Fuck, I love you,” he hissed as he dragged his cock back out, just till the memory of him remained before slamming back inside, harshly enough for you to lose your breath. 

His presence dissipated from your spine as he straightened up. One of his hands trailed down your back, bending you over more, before it settled parallel to the other around your hips. 

Scratching against the dark bark, you whimpered every time his thrusts concluded with a teasing tap against your puffy pearl from his heavy sack. 

“Shit,” he groaned loudly, “your little pussy’s gripping onto me so tight,” in awe, he glanced down at how snugly your cunt was clinging onto his cock, “does it feel good, baby? Does your pussy like being stretched out by me?” he landed a few electric slaps to your ass, “because it sure fucking feels like it… gods, she’s creaming all over me, turning my dick all fucking milky…” 

“I–, I–,” your fluttering moans found their way out your throat as your fingers left the tree and reached back to blindly grab for him.

“What?” he swiftly captured your searching hand in his and slowed his efforts just enough for you to think, “what is it, snow?”

Your brain was all jumbled, so all you managed to mumble was, “…kiss…” 

Curling his burly arms around your form, your brows crinkled up as he then slipped out before guiding you back around to face him. 

Planting his lips to yours in a soft and slow peck, your molten arms slid up to wrap around his neck. 

“Is this better?” his nose ghosted against your own, “huh?”

“Mhm,” you nodded lightly, your features nuzzling against his as you did. 

“You good?” his gentle exhale seeped into your bones. 

A soft smile then tipped up your lips as you uttered, “I’m phenomenal…” 

Mirroring your own grin, he captured your lips once more before he plucked your left leg up off the ground. Sweeping his tip through your glinting folds, he nudged at your clit long enough to make you wiggle in his grasp before he dipped down to your drooling entrance and slowly slid back in. 

“Ah,” you gasped and your head tilted away from his a moment as he split you back open for him, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, I love you,” his grip dented your flesh as he settled back into a silky pace, pumping in and out of your creamy cunt, “o-oh, fuck!”

Picking your other leg up, he lifted you into his strong arms and your ankles swiftly hooked around his frame. 

Sloppy symphonies of your skin clapping against each other resonated every time he lifted you off his cock, dragging you over every detail of his fat girth before slamming you back down on it. The sounds echoed throughout the surroundings, dominating your attention rather than the wistful birdsongs that your lustful ears filtered out. 

It didn’t take very long of him carrying you close and fucking you nearly through the tree that scrapped at your spine, before your body went as tight as a bowstring taking aim, and shaky profanities leaked out past your panting breaths as you tumbled over the edge.

Bucky’s mouth was hot on the side of your neck as you clambered around him, your pussy completely choking his throbbing length, and a gravelly groan rumbled against your skin as he swiftly emptied himself in your haven. 

With his load dripping down onto the tall grass as he continued to cradle you in his arms, his softening girth stayed buried in you as you caught your breaths. 

“See?” his heavy exhale fanned across your cheek as the side of his head rested against yours, “told you I used to let you win.”

“Oh,” you playfully chuckled, tilting your chin enough to find his hazy gaze, “you think you won just now?” 

“Yeah, I clearly did.” 

“Did you though,” you cocked your head, “or did I just let you?” 

His eyes then narrowed to a squint as he sucked in a breath, “…rematch,” he declared, “as soon as we get home.”

“Really? You wanna wait–, what, a whole hour?” you guessed the time reminding till you arrived back to Borün. 

“Yes, I wanna wait a whole hour,” a sly smirk crept up on his face as he slowly inched in closer, “one hour and then I finally get to throw you around in my own bed…” 

FIVE YEARS LATER, ON THE THIRTIETH DAY OF SUMMER 863 PR

“Pinch me,” you murmured through your grin as Bucky’s kisses nipped down the column of your neck.     

“What,” he smirked against your skin, clearly assuming you wanted to heat up your impromptu make-out session, “right here?”

Your glance flickered to the rest of the topiary garden, that sprouted in the centre of the great castle that was Fort Borün, and hoped that the pair of you were tucked away well enough in the semi-secluded corner for the other guests, who were up at the palace to round off the annual summer solstice festival, not to notice your intimate activities. 

Not taking his lewd thought to heart, you went on and uttered, “it must be a dream, being here with you and in this beautiful place,” the smile on your lips grew wider as you reflected on the way your life looked now. Growing up you’d never dare to let yourself imagine anything like this, being so safe and at peace, living in a comfortable little cabin by the sea with the love of your life, “you my husband and I your wife…”

Tilting his head back up to be at your level, he caught your glinting eye and reassured you, “you’re not dreaming, snow,” one of his thumbs then swiped a few times at the hold he had on your waist. Leaning back in, his lips then tilted back up into a devilish smirk as he asked, “but can I still pinch you?” 

As his fingers tightened around you and he leaned back down to seize your lips again, a giggle bubbled out of you and your palms swept up to his chest to keep him at bay, “not here!”

And just then, as your husband’s kisses began to bloom across your skin once more, burning so hot you nearly gave in, a pair of tiny footsteps echoed throughout the courtyard. 

“Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!” 

Turning around, both of your glances fell upon the little princess that appeared around the central fountain.

“Cora, isn’t it well past your bedtime?” Bucky cocked his head gently. 

“Papa promised I could dance one last time and you never gave me all of yours!” Cordelia demanded with a raised finger, “you still owe me one.”

Sucking in a breath, he nodded lightly, “I did promise you five, didn’t I?” and his gaze flickered up to spot the king as he caught up to his daughter.

Catching the tail end, Steve’s brows shot up, “she made you agree to five?” 

“Well, I don’t know how to say no to that face,” the fellow warden beside you shrugged and gestured down to the little girl, “I mean look at her!” 

Letting out a soft sigh, the king then tilted his head as a light plea flowed out past his gentle smile, “Bucky, please just dance with my daughter or she won’t let me tuck her into bed.”

Taking a step further away from you, Bucky then smiled down at the princess, “your highness,” and offered her his hand, “shall we?”

Snatching it up, a bright giggle then billowed out of the little girl as she dragged him back inside. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[satellitespinner]

july 12th 1996.

“yeah, some freak went crazy and killed a bunch of kids at camp in like ‘78” dina states, her lollipop twirling about in her fingers.

“no they fuckin’ didnt dina, quit it.” ellie laughs as she presses the bottle of vodka to her lips.

you and a few of the other camp councilors were sat around a fire, passing around a bottle and telling stories before the first day of camp.

“if you tell the kids that i swear i’ll be the one to kill you.” you joke as ellie pulls you closer into her chest. she hands you the bottle and you take a long sip. “i do not need a bunch of freaked out kids who refuse to leave the cabin.”

abby laughs as she contradicts dina’s statement. “i’m pretty sure if some freak really did kill a bunch of kids here, we wouldn’t be here.”

dina crosses her legs and rolls her eyes. “you guys are really no fun.”

jesse leans in beside her sneakily trying to get a taste of her very sanitary sucker. too bad she notices before he can get his hands, lips on it.

“hey! knock it off.” she looks at him with disgust.

“see we’re lots of fun, D” abby laughs as dina shifts uncomfortably away from her boyfriend.

“as if you guys haven’t swapped spit a thousand times. so dramatic” you comment on dina’s reaction when you hear a twig snap in the distance. you gasp and sit up at the sound.

“hah! so you do believe it!” dina points.

“bitch, just because i jumped at a sound doesn’t mean i believe in some fake horror story about kids getting murdered here. plus, it’s not like we’re supposed to be doing this.” you defend yourself as your cheeks burn out of embarrassment.

“aw it’s okay that you’re scared, i’ll be here to protect you, baby” ellie gives you a sloppy kiss on your already hot cheek.

“yeah right, ellie, your lanky ass couldn’t take down a killer if you tried.” jesse buts in. out of spite ellie replies quickly.

“shut it, dweeb. can’t you see i’m tryna get some?” she jokes. everyone laughs.

“oh fuck off. you’re not getting shit!” you plaster a fake offended look on your face and sit up. she places a hand over her heart.

she reaches forward with grabby hands “nooo baby im soo sorry” you laugh as abby scoffs.

“you two need to get a room! seriously” she fake gags while sticking two fingers in her mouth.

“oh we will” you send a wink abby’s way and ellie laughs as she pulls you back into her lap. she starts stroking your hair as the rest of the group start imitating you two.

“oh ellie!”

“fuck me ugh”

“ellieeeeeuhhhhh”

ellie’s face heats up bright red at the sounds, that where somehow extremely accurate. “okay. this shits whack.” she states, looking away from the group to hide her now pink freckles.

another branch snap.

“what the fuck was that?” ellie jokes as she slightly shakes you. you look around frantically before you shut ur eyes.

“you guys are so fucked.” you say before peeling your blanket off of your legs and getting up.

“i need to piss.” you roll your eyes and zip up your sweater before walking away. “do you want me to come with?” ellie shouts, you wave your wand as you look back.

“i’ll be fine!”

you zip up your jean shorts and leave the outhouse as quick as possible. the dark making it impossible for you to see where you were going.

should’ve brought a flashlight.

as you’re walking through the woods you hear footsteps in the leaves. your head darts in all directions.

“ellie?” you call out. for some reason you follow the sound, fully convinced it’s one of your friends pranking you.

“i swear to god, you guys.” you say as you carefully maneuver through the forest. the deeper you go the more sounds you hear.

“you guys aren’t fucking funny.” you nervous laugh as you step over a branch. you follow the sounds until the come to an abrupt halt. the fuck?

“hello? who’s out there?” your voice going up an octave. now you were fucking scared. you turn around to look when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. you scream at the sudden presence. quickly turning back around and shoving whoever it was.

“you’re not fucking funny!” you say blindly. before realizing it was infact, not one of your friends. the figure didn’t say anything, but the space between you and them gave you time to book it. or so you thought.

as soon as your first foot left the ground they slipped their own underneath it, tripping you.

“fuck!” you yell from the ground. the masked person flipped you over and raised their knife clad arm, quickly bringing it down. they were quick but luckily you were quicker. you rolled left and the knife only grazed your stomach. it left a wound but you could manage.

you lifted yourself into your knee, the only thoughts going through your head were to fucking

RUN.

“help!” you screamed as you stumbled through the woods. you ran for enough time that you could eventually see all of your friends, their eyes all looking your way, puzzled expressions adorned their faces.

“there’s someone!” you scream, as you stumble again. your stomach blood now dripping down your shorts and onto your bare legs.

as you came into sight ellie was the first to stand up. the blood now very evident. “holy fuck.” she whispered as you got closer.

“he’s there! i fucking- i saw him!” you pant as you reach the group, ellie immediately taking you into her arms. you turn around and realize that the masked perp was now gone.

“i fucking swear.” ellie looks you up and down, your shaken and frankly bloody form. everyone’s eyes widen.

“this shit is fucking real.” abby’s says, looking around at everyone else.

“dina was fucking right.”

[princessbrunette]

thinking ab their pretty little gf w a not so stellar home life comin back to the chateau in tears, tryin to explain what happened but she's simply just a blubbering mess. the duology of jayj who's ready to give your old man a taste of his medicine vs daddy!john bee who's a little more levelheaded n thinking rationally. saying smth like 'just wanna forget' would have those two jumping to your aid - 🍓

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

“yup, i’m gonna kill him. murder him in cold blood.”

“you are not going to kill her dad, jj.”

whilst the blonde paces, developing a routine of yanking his cap off his head, running a hand through matted tresses before placing it back on— john b, the more level headed of the two kneels by your side, a gentle hand on your back.

you’d been crying, infact — you cried all the way to the chateau after an explosive spat with your terrifying father. it just didn’t feel fair, how can some people have the privilege of feeling totally safe and welcomed in their own home, by their own family — but you had to suffer? you felt in despair, just wanting everything happening outside of the chateau to stop.

“dude i’m tired of this asshole actin’ like — like he can just mess her around and scare her, look at her john b she’s scared!” jj rages, trying to bring his voice into a whisper-yell despite you being right there, stopping his pacing to direct his anger at the brunette by your side.

“i know, but right now you just need to calm it down. i doubt she wants you to go all john wick on her dad. sit down.” your face is in your hands as you weep, so you miss the way john b’s eyes widen in warning to jj, a silent message for him to quit acting out. the blonde licks his lips, shaking his head feeling like he was totally justified, but he does as he says regardless, lowering himself to sit at your other side.

“how ya holding up, princess?” he finally speaks, scratching the back of your head like a puppy. you remove your clammy hands from your face, staring down at them once they hang in your lap.

“s’just not fair.” you rasp, and you feel john b nodding at your side. you daren’t look at him, his large concerned puppy dog eyes sure to set off your waterworks once again so you look at jj instead, almost looking for solidarity. if anyone understood your home life situation, it was him.

his brows are all creased up sorrowfully and he presses his lips together, thumbing the freshest tear that dares to race down your cheek. you feel john b rest his chin on your shoulder, wanting you to feel his presence even when you didn’t face him.

“what can we do?” his warm voice rumbles right in your ear.

at first, you don’t know — and that look of hopelessness in your eyes almost cracks jj’s heart in two. he knew from experience how shitty it felt— but seeing it from the third person perspective was almost worse. he would take a million beatings from his dad if it meant no one was to ever lay a hand or throw a venomous word in your direction. “anything, babydoll.” he reiterates.

as fucked up as it is, having two male figures at your side— two who you’d like to think held a comfortable amount of authority over you, a small slither of the hole that was left in your heart from your daddy issues was filled with a warm honey-like feeling. maybe your emotions were all fucked up and out of whack, or maybe you just really appreciated the comfort — because you felt that warmth spread lower at the way they coddled you.

“i just wanna forget. wanna forget it all happened.” you whisper, and at first they don’t get it. well, they do— but not in the way you mean. john b’s hand creeps up to massage at the back of your neck, trying to relax you as he nods, frowning as he tries to piece together what he can do. always the fixer.

“okay, we can do that. what… specifically do you—”

“i need you.” you turn to look at him now, faces close, breath mingling. “i need you both to… make me forget. just don’t wanna think.” your whisper holds a tinge of an oncoming mewl to it and their faces melt in understanding.

“oh, baby.” john b coo’s, catching on and you feel yourself physically already starting to melt at the tone.

“that mean what i think it means?” jj’s breath is at your neck, fingers sliding up your arm to the strap of your tank top. slowly, carefully.

“please jus’ make me feel better.” you slur like the effects of a drug are finally kicking in, the two boys seeming to close in on you more by the minute.

“alright baby. daddies gonna help, okay? gonna make it feel better.” john b cups your cheek and you wring weakly at his wrist, pulling his palm to your wet mouth where you press kisses to the warm coarse skin, a silent plea to follow through.

jj’s mouth follows his touch next, a kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder, wisps of blonde hair sticking out the front of his cap tickling your cheekbone. “i should’a known that’s what you were after, you want that head all empty don’t you mama?”

like that, you’re putty in their hands.

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

[ssspideysense]

˚⋆｡˚ ❀ little white stick

summary: peter finds something in your trash can.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

tags: fluff, established relationship, unplanned pregnancy

wc: 1.8k

He’d never been more intimidated by a piece of plastic.

Peter flipped the white stick in his hand over, and over, and over again. His head was swimming, even after he ripped his mask off to get a better look. A sense of desperation fluttered in his chest. He held the end of the stick and shook it, but this was no magic 8-ball— the message in the window stayed the same, staring back at him.

Pregnant.

He should’ve minded his own business. Probably should’ve pissed behind a dumpster somewhere instead of slipping through your window for his little pit stop, too. And he really should’ve pulled his head out of his ass long enough to realize those were your keys jangling at the front door.

Peter flinched in the abrasive bathroom light once he heard you shut the door behind you. The test leapt from his gloved hands and clattered on the tile, now essentially a live stick of dynamite, spitting sparks that lit a fire under his feet.

He heard you pause in the breezeway, your tired and shuffling footsteps falling silent like he tried to be. He bent to scoop up the stick quickly, shoving it back into the little trash can where he found it.

Peter jumped upright again and smacked his head on the underside of the sink with a loud THUNK.

He stumbled back— his foot tipped the can over — he grabbed the towel bar for balance but ripped it right out of the wall instead.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, holding the metal bar in one hand while he scrambled for the pregnancy test kicked beside the toilet.

“Hello? I—I have a gun,” you called out cautiously from down the hall after his chaotic symphony of crashes. You’d always been a terrible liar, really, but he couldn’t blame you for trying.

Groaning, Peter held the loose fixture in one hand, and the test in the other.

He was panicking. But he couldn’t leave you to panic, thinking there was some intruder creeping around your apartment. Swiftly, he shoved the stick underneath his mask on the bathroom counter and yanked the door open.

“Baby, it’s me—“ he paused, looking at you standing there, poised to strike with your elementary spelling bee trophy gripped like a bat in both hands, “—nice form, by the way. Look at those legs.”

And you deflated upon seeing him, letting your arms fall to your sides. “Christ, Pete. A warning would’ve been nice.”

“Were you about to hit me with that?”

“Is that my towel rack?”

You stared at each other for a moment before chuckling quietly in tandem. Both of your hearts raced to their own erratic rhythms in the dark hallway— but for completely different reasons. Peter examined the metal bar in his hand before laying it next to the sink. “I can fix it, I promise.”

“I’m starting to think you’re more trouble than you’re worth, Parker,” you mused with a heavy sigh.

Peter waited until you turned on your heel before snatching up his mask and the little bomb underneath it. He trailed behind you with a forced air of nonchalance. “Oh, c’mon. I’m a real handy guy to have around. I fix towel racks, open jars, uh… water your plants,” he said, eyeing the droopy flowers on your kitchen windowsill. “Alright, there are better examples, but I whacked my head pretty hard in there, so you’ll just have to use your imagination for now.”

You offered a little huff of a laugh over your shoulder and slipped your shoes off by the front door. “Doing what?”

“Huh?”

The doe-eyed bewilderment on his face made you smile once your gaze met his. “In the bathroom. How’d you whack your head?” You asked.

His grip tightened on his mask. That nervous, almost boyish grin of his paired so well with his airy chuckle. “Uh, y’know. I saw a… bug. On the floor. Pretty gnarly stuff,” he cleared his throat and leaned himself against the kitchen archway with arms crossed over his chest.

You shot him an amused grin as you breezed past him, flicking on the lights. He’d looked a bit ruffled in the dark. Now, in the warm kitchen glow, you could see the nerves ticking away behind his eyes.

“A bug, hm?” You peered at him from the fridge. “Well, thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Must’ve scared you pretty bad.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “well, y’know, not that bad. I mean, yeah, I was pretty startled at first. Pretty, uh… surprised, since I know we’re— you’re really… careful about stuff like that,” he cleared his throat again.

You pulled a water bottle from the fridge and watched him, pinning him to that spot against the wall with just an arch of your brow. “Careful?”

Peter pretended to be busy reading your whiteboard calendar stuck to the wall. “Yeah. I mean, you’re really responsible, and you take care of yourself and your things. But, y’know, these things happen sometimes. It’s not the end of the world. Maybe it could be a good thing, actually.”

Slowly, you cracked open the bottle and took a long sip. Peter switched his focus to a little photo of the both of you on the fridge door. You were kissing his cheek, he was beaming at the camera — he remembered that day, a handful of months ago. He’d taken you to an art museum and said some corny line about how you were the most breathtaking piece in every room. It didn’t matter how cliché it was when you smiled so brightly in response.

Maybe it could be a good thing…

“So… did you kill it?”

“What?”

The water bottle crinkled in your hand. “The bug, Pete.”

Oh, right. The bug.

“Oh— uh, no,” he admitted, and that automatic flash of horror that flickered on his face went just as fast as it came, “you startled me when you came home, so it… got away, probably.”

A small hum left your lips. You turned to pour a little of your water into the wilting flower beds behind the sink. “I thought you could sense me with your… special tingle thing,” you said.

Peter ran his unoccupied hand through his messy hair. “Well, I usually can. I guess I was just really focused, or… something…” he mumbled. Focused… or really fucking floored. Either way, his reflexes were not showroom quality at the moment, he had to admit.

“Right,” you replied, shooting him another pointed look. The way he seemed to squirm and fidget told you everything in that moment. Peter was a terrible liar, really, but you couldn’t blame him for trying. A falling sort of feeling fluttered in your stomach, knowing what he knew as he stood before you.

The clock hanging on the kitchen wall ticked loudly. The fridge hummed. You both stared at each other, saying a lot without saying anything.

He loved you. He knew he did. And he knew you loved him, too. He just didn’t know why you didn’t tell him about this— and, better yet, he had no idea how to bring it up.

Peter’s hands wrung around his mask and the truth bomb inside of it. You sucked in a long breath through your nose.

“Are you pregnant?”

“I’m pregnant.”

You both spoke at the same time yet again. You both felt your hearts drop simultaneously.

But Peter’s shoulders fell and a powerful breath escaped him, like releasing a heavy weight. He shifted to lean against the kitchen counter, gripping the edge of it for balance.

“I came in to use your bathroom really quick and while I was peeing I glanced down and saw— saw this—“ he pulled the stick out from his mask, holding it in the air like some magical item as he rambled, “—and I thought it was fake at first, like, some weird prank, but it looks really real— at least I think it does, I haven’t really seen a whole lot of them in person— but then I realized that’d be a weird prank and you weren’t even home and then you came home and I panicked and—“

“And you ripped my towel rack off,” you cut in.

“And I accidentally grabbed your towel rack, and you tried to assault me with a trophy—“

“I thought you were some weirdo waiting to kidnap me!”

“You need to work on your big girl voice, by the way. They’re supposed to actually believe you have a gun.”

Your unamused glare was betrayed by the hint of a smile on your lips. It was gone with a slight shake of your head, though, brought back to the situation at hand. “You snooped through my stuff?”

Peter paused. “I didn’t… I didn’t snoop . I wasn’t looking for anything. I just saw it,” he said, “it was in the trash.” He watched you avert your gaze and gently wrap your arms around yourself, just a few feet away from him in your quiet kitchen. The last thing he wanted was for this to feel like some sort of confrontation. He had a million questions, and a million emotions, but even in his slight panic and shock Peter could recognize this was strange and difficult for you, as well. “When… when did you take this?”

His voice was softer now, and it almost made everything worse. You sighed, fingers smoothing over your own arms in a self-soothing motion. “The other night,” you replied quietly.

“Okay,” he swallowed, trying to think. Be empathetic, Peter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clearly stressed, your head rolled back in slight exasperation and a light groan escaped you. “I was going to. I just— do you know how daunting that is? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

The smallest quiver in your words broke his heart.

Peter was fast. He moved forward, discarding the things in his hands and shifting them to sit on your hips. “Hey,” he soothed, his thumbs kneading gently into the soft skin just under your shirt. “It’s okay. I’m not mad, baby. I get it. It’s a lot to deal with.”

Your gaze was fixed forward, stuck on the black spider emblem on his chest. Peter let his hands gently glide up your sides, to sit over your shoulder blades. He pulled you into his chest and pressed his mouth to the top of your head.

There was so much to say and Peter’s brain refused to cooperate— he enjoyed holding you, though, sighing softly once he felt you finally lean in.

There was a lot to talk about. A lot to think about. But despite the strange mix of vulnerability and anxiety making your chest tight, Peter’s air of sweetness softened the raw feeling.

Obviously, something like this wasn’t on your radar, at least not right now. The ‘what about our future’ discussion was nerve-wracking enough without this sort of… push. But, unfortunately, you couldn’t just ignore it. The gears were already turning and nearly spitting smoke out of your ears when Peter broke up your whirlwind of thoughts.

“… I’m just saying, PJ is a cute nickname for Peter Junior.”

He felt you smile against his chest.

[mikobeautifulheart]

How about JJK Men touching your weak spot, like on ur back or something in public and it makes you jump and them laugh.

IDK what ever you want to write but something like that.

TEHEHE YESSSS

Not edited btw :(

Weak spot

Including: Yuji and Yuta

Yuji

You were standing at the door to Yuji's dorm. He told you earlier that he would be 5 minutes late and that you could just head inside.

Was he sure, could you really just freely walk in? I mean what if he left stuff out that your not meant to see...or if he left his things out and forgot about it.

You reached out to turn the door knob before pushing the door open slowly. Everything was...normal. Clean, neat, nothing out of the ordinary actually. You walked in quietly, this place was to quiet to clean...there's got to be something he's hiding.

Well he is Yuji, he wouldn't hid anything...would he?

First you looked under the couch.

Then his desk draws.

And then in the book shelfs.

Nothing. Maybe you were just to caught up in trying to find anything interesting, in reality you knew there probably wasn't even anything there.

Finally you opened his bed room door and were about to peek under the bed when you felt something gently run down your spine making you jump slightly.

You heard Yuji's laugh "Your spine really is your weak spot"

You stood up and grabbed the pillow off of his bed and whacked him with it.

"YUJI YOU SCARED ME!"

"HEY! CALM DOWN" He said wrapping his arms around you, pushing you on his bed, his body on top.

"What were you looking for?" He asked

"Mmm nothing Yuji, I was just looking around. I guess I was right, you don't seem like a guy who hides things"

"I don't need to hide anything from you babe, I have nothing to hide" He said smiling while kicking his old Jenifer Lawrence poster under his bed.

(He forgot to throw it out before you got there)

Yuta

You were sent on a mission with your boyfriend, last one of the day. You were practically on edge after the past few nights with little to no sleep. Worked to the bone and tiered.

You and Yuta had pretty much finished the mission, but there were still traces of cursed energy so you both spilt up.

Man this sucks.

You swore as soon as this was over you were going to collapse into Yuta's arms and sleep all the way back home. But in the mean time you just had to hurry and finish this mission.

Walking down the hall way you heard something inside of a room, that was it, it was the last curse. It would be an easy kill, if only you could find the damn thing first.

You swung open the door and was hit with a wave of exhaustion hit you making your eye lids get heavier. Your vision blurred and your limbs became heavier.

"Not now" You mumbled to yourself seeing the curse move away in the corner of your sight.

You stumbled into the middle of the room and swung your arm aimlessly, managing to punch right through the curses body.

A sigh escaped your lips. Finally. Or so you thought until you felt overwhelming cursed energy behind you. Before you could turn around and react you felt a small poke on the small of your back making you jump and your knees go weak, body falling slowly backwards into something...you close your eyes to just accept your fate at this point only to be met with the sound of a light hearted chuckle.

"Y-Yuta, you rat. You know that's my weak spot" You mumbled looking up at him, seeing his smile.

"Sorry, sorry I couldn't help it." He lifted your body up bridal style and carried you out the building.

"Where's Ichi when you need him" Yuta said looking down to see you peacefully sleeping.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: So random but i'm dying with out requests, I only have two more to write and I've nearly finished them. PLEASE.

[wolffwish]

Clandestine Meetings

REQUEST: “Hey!!! Could you possibly do a fic with Christian teasing Toto about a new relationship, maybe with an employee, then protective Toto caring for reader when she panics because she thinks everyone knows?!! Thank you!!! 💗💗💗💗”

Summary: Rumours start circulating around the paddock about the relationship between you and Toto, until he reaches breaking point and jumps at your defence.

Warnings: Toto x Assistant!reader, workplace drama, arguing between TPs. Soft/protective/caring Lewis Hamilton x reader. Mentions of past relationship/confrontation. Christian Horner 🫥.

A/N: Kinda thinking this could be a part one… with a very different sort of part two 😏 ps thought you’d all enjoy the bonus of Lewis being featured!

You and Toto had been seeing each other for around 3 months, sneaking around the paddock and keeping your relationship as quiet as you could— purely because you didn’t want anything or anyone to ruin it.

What you had was perfect, a professional work relationship that never got in the way of your personal one, and vice versa. You could feel yourself falling for him big time, but with people starting to question the way you look at each other and the timings of your supposed ‘meetings’, people started to talk.

The Head of the FIA had arranged a meeting regarding an ongoing PR crisis amongst the teams, with all the team principals slowly making their way into the FIA hub at the first race of the season in Bahrain.

As normal, you escorted Toto to the meeting to see him off. This wasn’t uncommon, as all the other TP’s also had their assistants with them, including Christian.

“I see you’ve bought your sheep with you?” you heard come from behind you. You turned around to see Christian smirking, with his assistant whacking him across the stomach as if to say ‘shut up’. Toto turned around with you, daggers for eyes as he looked down on Christian. His tall frame causing a shadow over him and his assistant, jaw clenching through anger and fist tightening around his paddock pass.

“Just ignore him…” you say, grabbing Toto’s wrist, urging him to continue walking. “He’s not worth the aggro.”

Christian chuckled. “Run along now, Toto. Don’t want to be getting into trouble, do yo…”

“What did you call her?” - Toto scowled, yanking his wrist out of your clasped hand and swallowing heard, making his throat swell. Eyes locked onto Christian’s, and if looks could kill…

“Oh dear. Guenther! Looks as though Toto got out the wrong side of her bed this morning.”

“Say one more word and I’ll make sure it’s your last.” Toto commanded, his face getting redder by the second.

“Toto come on…” you sighed, “please, let’s just go. The meeting is starting soon.”

“You go ahead…” he said, flicking his eyes from Christian to you. His face softening as he saw your panicking eyes. Confrontation is one of your biggest fears thanks to your last relationship, and he knew that. “Hey, don’t worry, ok? I’ll deal with it.”

You didn’t want to take your eyes off him, but neither could you stay and watch. You’d seen him get this angry before, but only once. That one time you’d opened up about your previous relationship and how you were treated was enough to make Toto see red and start a war.

You nodded, forced a half smile at him and walked away. Past Toto, past Christian and his assistant, and passed Lewis Hamilton— who was making his was to an engineering meeting. The further you were getting away from Toto, the more your heart was pounding at the thought of an argument starting over what you were trying to keep a secret.

You’d entered the Mercedes motorhome and felt Lewis grabbed you by the shoulder. “Hey, hey…” he said, his voice just a brush louder than a whisper. “Where’s that smile gone?”

As soon as you locked eyes with him, you lost it. Every emotion started running through you as you felt your past memories tarnish every fibre of your being. Lewis had no idea about you and Toto, nobody did. Atleast that’s what you thought.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay, don’t cry. Come on, whatever it is, we’ll fix it.” he says, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and gently caressing it. “What’s happened?”

Through tears and a shaky breath, you somehow, in one single breath, mastered the words “Christian.. he knows, I don’t know how but he knows about me and Toto and we tried to keep it a secret but it just I don’t know he just said something to Toto and oh god it’s going to ruin it and I can’t be—“

“Woah woah, slow down. Take a step back. Breathe. Let’s do it together. In… and out. In… and out.” You copy Lewis’ actions as he calms you. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere more private.” He ushered you up the stairs and into the room that he knew led to Toto’s office.

“I’m sorry Lewis,” you said through tears and a few sniffles. “You have a meeting you need to attend… go. I’ll be fine.” Your eyes looked around the room, trying to find a jacket as you’d gotten the cold shivers and shakes from being so worked up. You saw Toto’s jacket hanging on the coat stand, which made the tears start streaming again.

“Come here…” said Lewis, as he grabbed Toto’s jacket and popped it over your shoulders. “I’m sure he won’t mind, will he?” The corner of his mouth turning into a playful smirk and he softly pinched your cheek to try and make you laugh. “I can’t blame him…” he says, “You are beautiful… even all red faced and crying.”

You laugh and roll your eyes… “Ok, now you’re definitely lying.” As you wipe your tears away with Toto’s sleeve, you hear heavy footsteps up the stairs. The door swung open, and the room stood still as Toto stood in the doorway— one hand still on the handle as he entered.

“Has anybody seen— oh god, there you are. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Toto claimed, walking his way over to you. “It’s ok, shhh sh sh, you’re ok, come on, deep breaths Schatzi, like we’ve done before. Deep breaths.”

As Toto wrapped his arms around you, your head buried in his chest and his head wresting on your chin, you heard him whisper “thank you” to Lewis, who slowly shut the door behind him as he exited the room.

“Come on baby, I’m here now. It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

“Why does he hate me so much?” you say, still locked in Toto’s arms. “What happened in the meeting? Did you even talk to anyone? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to—“

“Hey, hey, no, we’re not doing that. We’re not getting worked up again, are we?” Toto shakes his head as he softly strokes your hair with his entire hand wresting on the back of your head. “We’re not worrying about anything else, ok? Plus… he won’t be saying anything else about you ever again. That’s a promise.”

You pulled away from his arms and looked up at him, still teary eyed and sniffling. “What did you say to him?” you said, frowning because you didn’t know what was going to come next.

“I just told him the truth… nobody picks on my girl, and if they do… I’m gonna come after them.”

Your face turned from sad to shocked in an instant. “Toto, you told them about us?! I thought we were keeping it a—“

“No no, I know. But it was going to come out eventually. Besides, I want everyone to know who I go home to every night.” He brings his hands up and places them on both your cheeks, and plants a soft kiss on your lips. “I want them to know how fucking lucky I am, baby.” He softly kisses you again, this time gently sliding his tongue in. “I want them to know that this…” he runs his hands down your neck and over your collar bones, “…is all… mine.” He kisses your neck, and you can feel yourself smiling again.

“Toto, you’re the only one that can make me go from sad to— whatever this feeling is— in a millisecond.” You tip your head back and close your eyes as he runs his lips down your neck and to your collar bone. “I know baby… I just want to make you feel better…” he says, his hands making his way down your buttoned up Mercedes shirt. “I better lock the door.”

[sodosshame]

Don’t Leave Me Again.

⚠️Warnings: Attempted Sexual Assault, Violence, Blood, Swearing.

Description: You and the group are on a run and stop overnight to rest, but a stranger somehow makes their way in.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

A/N: Please make sure you read the warnings, it’s not too graphic but I don’t want to trigger anyone. Stay safe! And thank you for all the love recently<3 - dixonsarrows

Crash.

I wake up quickly, my heart beating loudly in my chest. Slowly, I stand up and make my way to the door of the room, making sure to not stand on anyone. I poke my head around the door, peaking out.

All of a sudden, I feel someone grab my shoulder and I go to scream but feel a hand slap over my mouth. I look up at the man. A stranger.

How the fuck did he get in here? Where’s Daryl? He’s supposed to be on watch.

I struggle in his grip, trying to work my way out of it. My body thuds against the floor as the man throws me to the ground, still holding his hand over my mouth and the other pinning me down and straddling me with his legs either side. I whimper, trying to make any sound to wake the others.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch. I was just gonna rob your group, but after seeing your pretty face..”

The man paused for a second, licking his lips.

“I’m gonna get something else I want.”

With that, he puts a hand around my throat and reaches into his pocket, grabbing a cloth which he then ties around my face, making it into a gag, so I still couldn’t talk. Attempting to scream into the gag, I reach my hand up to try and punch him in the face. He quickly pulls a knife to my throat.

“I said shut up. You try anything and I’ll slit your fucking throat.” He muttered, his voice laced with venom.

The man briefly lifts his hips up to attempt to unzip his pants and I take the opportunity to lift up my knee and whack him in the balls, making him fall to the side.

“Fuckin’ bitch, you’re gonna get it now.” He grunts, attempting to get on top of me once again.

Luckily, I was already knelt on one knee, so I somehow manage to shove him away and stand up. Before I know it though, he’s got me pinned against the wall, one hand around my throat and the other still clutching the knife. Struggling to breath, I attempt to knee him in the balls again; but this time he only moves slightly to the side, but enough for me to bring my hand up grabbing the knife by the blade. I wince as I feel it digging into my hand. In a split second, I whack my head against his, causing him to stumble back and let go of my neck, his grip loosening enough on the knife for me to grab it- flicking it round so the handle is in my hand.

Using all my body weight, I slam him against the wall and on instinct, I plunge the knife into his neck, taking it out and doing the same thing again- blood splattering all over me and up the wall. He slumps to the floor and I stumble back, dropping the knife and slowly bringing my hands up to untie the gag.

“Y/N? What the fuck ‘appended?” I hear Daryl’s panicked voice along with his thumping footsteps.

I can’t move, my feet stuck in place and my eyes stuck on the man I just stabbed. The man. Not a walker. But a man.

I feel Daryl’s hands on to tops of my arms and I jump, looking up at him.

“I- He was gonna-”

He pulls me into a tight hug. His strong arms wrapping around my currently fragile body.

“‘s’okay. Ya did what ya had to.” He mumbled against my hair, not letting go of me.

“I- I killed him.” I mumbled, feeling completely numb.

“He was gonna r-” I can’t even finish the sentence as I attempt to swallow the sob I feel rising in my throat.

“Don’t ya dare feel guilty about killin’ that motherfucker, Y/N. Ya had to, alrigh’?” He says as he pulls away, holding me at arms length to study me.

Scanning my body for any marks, his eyes land on bleeding hand. He pulls out a handkerchief from his back pocket and gently wraps it around my hand- enough to stop the bleeding with it not causing more pain.

“W-where was y-you, Daryl?” I mumble, trying to stop my voice shaking.

“‘m’so sorry, Y/N. I was patrollin’ round, I never even realised. Shit, I’m sorry.” He responded, bring his hand up to rest on my cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear.

Suddenly, I hear the door the room behind us open, Rick’s voice ringing out.

“What happened? Is everyon-” He started.

“How tha fuck did none of ya wake up?! Y/N almost got fuckin’ killed!” Daryl suddenly yelled, taking his hands from me and pointing accusingly at Rick.

“You were the one on watch-”

“STOP.” I yelled, interrupting the soon-to-be argument.

“Just stop. I- I handled it.” My voice reduces to a whisper at the end of my sentence.

Reaching my arm out, I tug on Daryl’s sleeve, trying to get him closer to me. I hear him sigh as he steps back towards me and embraces me in a hug once again, gently kissing the top of my head.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, darlin’.” He mumbles quietly, his hand rubbing circles on my back.

“J-just.. please don’t leave me again.” I mutter, my voice breaking.

“‘M’kay.” He responds, hugging me tighter.

[jb5lover]

Your friend group always making fun of how obsessed you and jude are with each other, and your both so shameless about it too 🫣 you’ll be sneaking away from the rest of the group to do stuff or you’ll just be excessively touchy/kissy around everyone, and they’ve learned to just deal with it so one day you guys are all getting ready to go out and you can’t get over how good he looks. So like two minutes before you guys leave, you call him upstairs with a lame ass excuse like “i need help finding jewellery” but everyone knows what that’s really code for. And his friends can totally hear you cuz ur terrible at being quiet so eventually they tell him they’ll just meet him there🤭

the two of you have become notorious for basically undressing each other with your eyes or initiating heated kisses when other people are around and all of your friends can never help but roll their eyes whenever it happens. typically it takes a couple of cushion whacks to the head or bullhorns in your ear to get the two of you away from each other because a simple “there’s other people here!” won’t do the trick.

you guys had all planned to have a dinner to celebrate jude’s birthday now that he was finally back in town. it had been a while since you’d all seen each other and the feeling of excitement was mutual. you of course got ready at jude’s house, where your friend group had agreed to meet. throughout the night the two of you were throwing glances at each other as you got dressed. you watched him in the mirror as he came out of the shower with his towel around his torso, you eyed up him and down as he threw on his dress shirt, you held yourself back from jumping on him when he sprayed his cologne around his upper body.

after the two of you had finished dressing, you took a couple of pics in the mirror, with his hand snaked around your waist and your head tucked in his neck. “you look so nice,” you told him turning to face him momentarily. “likewise. it’s a shame your hair and makeup looks so nice cause all i can think about right now is messing that up a little,” he whispered into your ear and he placed soft kisses along your neck and chest. you desperately wanted to hold his head there but instead he pulled away, “okay, you finish your touch ups and i’ll meet you downstairs” he said causally, as if he didn’t just single handedly cause your legs to go weak.

you stayed alone for a few moments in the room trying to clear your mind, before heading downstairs in hopes in making this feeling go away. you entered the living room where a few of your friends and your boyfriend were seated on the couch waiting for you. “you look gorgeous babe, ready to go?” one of your girls complimented. “aw, thank you. um, not yet actually. i can’t seem to find the necklace that goes with these earrings. jude, would you help me find it?” you asked, trying you best to sound innocent. “oh, i can help,” she spoke up but you immediately shut it down.

“uh, no, that’s okay. it may have gotten mixed up with his mom’s jewellery, so jude, can you come upstairs? now, please,” you pressed, the desperation becoming obvious in your tone. your friends all exchanged that look with each other, knowing what ‘help me find my jewellery was really code for. jude excused yourself and followed your up the stairs with his hand in yours. “we have to go soon, so be quick!”

your friend’s voice was completely drowned out by the sound of your door slamming shut urgently as you yanked him into his room. “i need you so bad,” you whined against his lips, amidst the messiest and most rushed make out ever. “love, we have to-”

“no, i know,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in closer, “but i need you to fuck me, please.” he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t as down to do this as you were, quickies had become a staple in your relationship due to his busy schedule. but something about hearing you beg was just gonna do it for him every time, without fail. “say that again,” he egged you on. and if you were any less desperate, you would’ve rolled your eyes and told him to shut up, but instead you did as he told and repeated that phrase that would inevitably make him go feral.

before you knew it, he was pressing you against the desk he had bought for you in his room. it allowed you to prolong your stays with him instead of having to go fly home constantly to carry on with schoolwork. without breaking the kiss, you both worked to knock all of the papers, pens and books off of the table to make room. once it was clear, he lifted you up from under your thighs, stepping in between the gap between your legs as he sat you on the desk. “oh, we’ve never done it here before,” you commented as you rushed to unbutton his jeans. “first time for everything,” he replied, scrunching your dress up to reveal your now soaked underwear.

it wasn’t your intention to be as loud as you were, it was just part of your nature. your quietest volume was still loud enough for someone within close range to hear exactly what was going on, and a part of you couldn’t even find yourself to be embarrassed anymore. “fuck, you’re so good,” you cried as jude pounded harshly into you, causing the table to crash against the wall repeatedly. he groaned into the kisses he was leaving on your neck as you pressed your hand into his hair. “don’t stop, please,” you begged. he carried on giving it to you as good as he could, trying to hold back his own noises that were threatening to come through.

it was a miracle that between the sounds of your skin slapping and the table against the wall, you managed to hear the knock on the door. “uh, yeah?” you called out, as you tried to focus your attention on which of your friends was just outside his room, instead of the feeling of jude rubbing your clit at a rapid pace. “you guys ready yet, cuz the reservation is booked for 8? it’s almost half 7.”

“yeah, we’ll be read-fuck!” you weren’t sure if jude had purposely hit your sweet spot in that moment, but either way it was terrible timing because it had you moaning embarrassingly loud while his best friend stood just a few metres away. noticing that you were in no state to speak, jude took over while he let you express yourself as much as you needed to. “yeah that’s calm,” he called out, his own eyes shutting from how amazing it felt to be inside you, “we should be done in like ten minutes.”

“twenty,” you shouted out, correcting your boyfriend as you looked directly in the eyes while sliding your dress off your shoulders completely. he looked mesmerised by the sight of you, and knew there and then that even twenty minutes would’ve seemed like a rush. “you know what, how about we meet you guys there?” he suggested, proceeding to speed up the pace and become more aggressive with his thrusts.

his friend tried not to be disgusted by the noises come from your room, deciding to just give a hurried response and run downstairs. the two of you waited until you heard the front door shut, and then you knew you were free to be as loud and disruptive as you pleased. at least until the further extended thirty minutes were up.