#just let them date and have it fall apart

[thatonegrimm]

Can I request where baby progressively shows his demon appearance more and more to reader while dating cause he’s getting comfortable? You can add the other Saja Boys

Yes, of course! 💖 That’s such a soft and beautiful concept—I love the idea of Baby slowly revealing more of his demon form as he grows comfortable in the relationship.

Little by Little

Summary: Your boyfriend is slowly relaxing his hold over his true form — not all at once, but in quiet moments over time. As trust deepens, you begin to catch more glimpses of his real self: lilac skin, glowing eyes, and the soft vulnerability he never lets anyone else see.

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

The first time you see one of his markings, it’s by accident.

You're brushing your teeth, half-asleep in your shared apartment, when Baby walks in without a word. He’s always quiet in the morning—still bleary-eyed, still warm from sleep, the black sleeves of his hoodie pulled over his hands.

But today, something’s different.

He leans over the sink to spit out mouthwash, and when he straightens up, the edge of his collar dips just slightly. You catch it in the mirror, just a glimpse, no more than an inch, of patterned violet spreading along his collarbone. Geometric and jagged, like cracked glass under his skin.

Your toothbrush slows.

The air shifts slightly, as if the room itself holds its breath.

You don’t say anything.

Not because it scares you—it doesn’t. You’ve known what he is for a while now. But you also know him—the way he wraps his jokes around silence, the way he keeps a careful distance from vulnerability unless you’re patient enough to wait him out. Like everything that matters most to him is kept behind a locked door, and you’re still learning the shape of the key.

So instead of asking, you slide a hand into his and squeeze.

He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t pull away either. His fingers twitch once before curling around yours, warm and quiet.

Later that morning, you find that hoodie tossed near the laundry basket—half-on, half-off, like he didn’t care how it landed.

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

The second time is intentional.

You’re curled on the couch together, legs tangled, a movie playing in the background neither of you are really watching. Your head rests on his chest, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your shoulder, when he shifts and rolls up one sleeve.

You blink.

The skin beneath is no longer the pale peachy tone he wears in public. It’s lilac—soft and smooth, with a shimmer under the light. His forearm is crisscrossed with deep violet markings, the same jagged ones you saw on his collarbone. They trail up past his elbow, disappearing under his shirt.

He doesn’t draw attention to it. Doesn’t say anything. He just lets it be there—visible.

You lift your head to look at him.

“Pretty,” you say simply.

Baby makes a quiet sound, something between a laugh and a breath he forgot to hold. He tries to act nonchalant—tries to look away—but there’s a pink flush creeping up the tips of his ears.

You kiss his arm just once, near the darkest mark.

“I meant it,” you add, resting your cheek against his chest again. “You don’t have to hide things from me.”

He says nothing, but later that night he falls asleep on top of you, full weight, head on your chest, like he trusts you to hold all of him.

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

The claws come next.

You’re chopping vegetables in the kitchen when Baby comes up behind you and lazily wraps his arms around your waist. You’re used to the warmth of his hands, the quiet pressure of his chest against your back—but today, you notice something new.

His nails are longer. Sharper. Just enough to prick slightly when he drags them gently along your side.

You pause, glancing down.

His hand rests flat against your stomach—skin still smooth, still lilac, but now tipped in elegant, curved claws. Not monstrous, but definitely inhuman.

He notices you staring and starts to pull back, muscles tense.

You stop him with a hand over his.

“I like them,” you murmur.

He doesn’t respond immediately. You feel the moment where he debates pretending like it didn’t happen. But then—

“I file them down most days.”

His voice is low. Almost embarrassed. Like this tiny part of himself, something natural to him, needs an apology.

You hum. “You don’t have to around me.”

“…I know,” he says, but you feel the way his arms tighten around you, the small exhale against your shoulder. Like maybe he needed to hear it anyway.

When he holds your hand that night, his claws graze your knuckles gently. Purposefully.

You don’t let go.

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

Sometimes you wonder what he sees when he looks in the mirror.

Does he only notice the claws, the cracked-glass skin, the glow in his eyes that sets him apart? Does he trace his markings and wonder if he’s too much—or worse, not enough—when he’s just being real?

Because when you look at him all sharp teeth and soft hoodie sleeves, glowing eyes that give too much away—you just see him. Baby. The boy who makes you ramen at 2am when you’re sad. The one who insists on watching horror movies but hides behind you at the jumpscares. The one who gets too hot at night but still clings to you like a second blanket. The one who hums off-key when he thinks you’re asleep. Who asks if you ate, then pretends he wasn’t worried when you say no.

The one who’s learning to let you see him, piece by piece.

And you love every one.

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

It’s a late Sunday morning when you finally see his full skin.

You’re sitting on the floor of your bedroom, folding laundry in the soft buzz of summer heat, when Baby walks in shirtless. Not just shirtless—bare-chested, relaxed, no hoodie, no long sleeves, no effort to hide.

Lilac from throat to waist. Cracked-glass markings running down his ribs. Collarbones like amethyst under sunlight.

Your breath catches.

He doesn’t say anything. Just walks over with a pile of socks in his hands and flops down beside you like it’s nothing.

But you can feel the quiet tension under his casual movements. The way he pretends not to be watching your reaction from the corner of his eye.

You lean in and kiss his shoulder.

“Still you,” you whisper. “Always you.”

This time, he doesn’t hide the way his hands shake for a second before he wraps his arms around you. Doesn’t hide when he exhales into your hair and says, raw and real:

“Thanks for waiting.”

You press your face against his neck. His skin is warm. Familiar. Yours.

“I wasn’t waiting,” you whisper back. “I was just walking with you.”

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

It becomes routine after that.

Claws click gently against his phone as he texts. You catch him half-shifted in the kitchen, markings crawling up his neck like vines. Sometimes his golden eyes glow when he’s laughing—full and bright and unbothered.

He doesn’t hide anymore.

You still remember the version of him from your first few dates—the hoodie up to his knuckles, that too-cool-for-school shrug, the shadows that followed him when he thought you weren’t looking. This Baby feels lighter. Not different. Just unburdened.

You don’t ask anymore.

He shows you because he wants to now.

And one night, curled up together under a blanket that’s too warm for summer but perfect for hiding in, he tilts your chin up and rests his forehead against yours.

“Hey,” he murmurs.

“Hmm?”

“You—you’re not scared of me, right?”

Your heart tugs.

“Never.”

He nods once. Then slowly, carefully, he pulls off the last barrier: a glamour spell that softened his features. The change is subtle but stunning—his smile sharper, teeth a little longer, eyes glowing gold with slit pupils.

It hits you that this is the first time he’s let you see him like this—unguarded, spell-less, fully himself.

You press your forehead to his, breath warm between you.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper.

He bites his lip. His claws flex once at your waist. Then, finally, he relaxes—melting into your arms like he was always meant to fit there.

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

Little by little, he let you in.

And now, there’s nothing he hides.

Not his markings, not his claws, not the fire in his eyes.

Not his heart, either.

And that’s the part you love most of all.

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M-List

[m-robinavitch]

TROPE TUESDAY!!!!! Yessss let’s gooook

Accidental pregnancy + sibling’s best friend with Abbot!reader x Robby?👀👀💕💕💕💕

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG MY LOVE-

A continuation of this ask here.

Pairing: Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Abbot!Reader

Trope: Accidental Pregnancy w/ Sibling’s Best Friend

“I guess we have to tell him now-“ you wanted to cry. Wanted to run away like you used to do when you were a kid and you broke Jack’s expensive speakers that you poked because the holes looked fun to stab. You had been feeling like shit for the last week- nauseated and lightheaded and were so exhausted even a trip to the store had you take a 3 hour nap to recover. Robby was adamant that you should go to the doctor, even looking around for the best one around where you lived because this was supposed to be just a long distance fling. A fling that lasted for 10 years almost. A fling where you call each other once a week and spend hours on the phone until either of you fall asleep- usually you first, but Robby loves to hear you sleep because it feels like you’re in his bed again. A fling- but he whispers that he loves you in your ear while he fills you up and takes you apart. A fling- but neither of you have even tried to even date anyone else because they don’t compare. A fling but other than Jack- Robby is the first person you want to tell everything to and he can’t wait to listen. A fling- because it would break your brother’s heart that you’ve lied to him for this long.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to do this,” Robby’s voice broke through the silence on the phone. He would love nothing more than a child with you. The nights where he had you asleep on his chest and he stroked his fingers along your back- he let the fantasy play out in his mind. Robby wanted you to have his baby, he wanted you to give him a beautiful baby with your pretty eyes and soft hair. Robby wanted to marry you. But he was still grappling with the fact that you wanted him. Even a decade later- he still didn’t believe you wanted him and that you deserved someone who wasn’t a mess. Someone who could give you the world and not fuck it up. He was already old and broken- even if you slowly put pieces of him back together. He wanted you to be sure because not only will this mean you’re stuck with him forever- Jack might never forgive him and Robby knows that you can’t live without either of them.

“I want this,” you wanted him. You’ve wanted Robby since you first met him. You’ve wanted more than weekend long visits back and forth every other month or so. You wanted more than phone calls and texts. The only thing that held you back was Jack. At first it was because of the age difference and it really was a fling- mind blowing sex only. But then you spent more time together and- your sister in law died, you couldn’t spring anything more on your brother. And it’s been so long now that it’s become second nature to hide it. Jack was all you had left of your family and was one half of your heart while Robby was the other half. You’d lie in bed sometimes missing him and crying because you were thinking too much about the missed opportunities- you could’ve had Robby fully if you had just told Jack years ago. Maybe you would’ve had kids already? Well it doesn’t matter anymore. “I want you.” Bite the bullet. You made a plan to visit your brother next week.

Jack was a little surprised about your random visit- happy of course because he loves you and continues you to try and get you to move closer but he’s resigned from the fact that you were an adult now. An adult who makes her own decisions. It was hard. Because he still remembers carrying you in his arms- pink bundle of blankets that his parents handed to him. He still remembers walking you to school every morning and tying your shoes. He remembers crying when you graduated kindergarten because he couldn’t imagine you growing up and not being his baby sister anymore- he cried the same way at your high school graduation. He remembers how small your hands were in his. They still felt small- sitting across from him with tears in your eyes.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me anything- you know that.” He grabbed your hands in his, ducking his head down so you can look into his eyes and- why is Robby pulling up? He tried to tell him that it wasn’t a good time right now but you stopped him- told him you asked Robby to come. His mind was racing. He needed to know what the fuck was going on because he feels like he can’t breathe because something is wrong with you and Robby is here and- are you sick? He can’t lose you. He’s lost so much already and-

“I’m pregnant,” Oh? Oh- well, as far as situations that’s not the worst that could happen. So you’re pregnant? Okay well you can move in with him and- why do you take Robby’s hand?

Oh?

Oh.

Robby deserved the way Jack’s fist connected with his nose.

[nightcourtnovels]

Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (part 6.5)

Summary: Azriel and Y/N get to have another date but this time in Velaris… and in Ritas;)

~~~~

She turned and froze the moment she saw him.

Her heart pounded like a drumbeat under her skin. Every nerve alive. She felt the dress cling tighter with the heat rising through her.

He looked devastating. Black shirt rolled at the sleeves, veins flexing along his forearms. Chest broad. Wings tucked in tight. And that face. Shadows flickered at his jaw like they, too, couldn’t resist touching him.

And his eyes. Gods, his eyes.

She’d always remembered them as cool and unreadable, but now they burned — focused entirely on her, devouring her in that golden dress like it had been made for his gaze alone.

Mother tits, he got hotter.

Y/N swallowed hard, the last of her drink burning down her throat as she tried to catch her breath — and her dignity.

Azriel took one slow step forward, and so did the male beside her.

The stranger — charming, persistent, attractive enough — clearly hadn’t gotten the hint yet. His hand was still lightly brushing her back, still thinking this was his moment.

Azriel’s gaze flicked to the male like a dagger unsheathed.

“May I cut in?” he asked — polite, velvet-soft.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Azriel didn’t look at her.

His eyes pinned the other male like a predator, voice dropping into something darker, colder, more final:

“I wasn’t asking.”

The fae male froze. His eyes darted between Azriel’s face and the shadows now writhing around his shoulders like coiled serpents, ready to strike.

He was already gone before the sentence finished.

Y/N blinked, stunned.

Azriel turned to her again, the tension in his jaw easing only slightly. And Cauldron help her, she liked that. She liked that he’d done it — that someone like him still got jealous. Still wanted her enough to make someone leave.

She tilted her head up at him, letting a slow, wicked smile curl on her lips. “That was dramatic.”

Azriel stepped into the space the other male had occupied, his hands finding her waist with the kind of certainty that stole her breath. “Don’t test me tonight,” he murmured. “Not when you look like this.”

His touch was fire. His shadows pressed close, nosing at the hem of her dress like they were every bit as possessive as he was.

For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. Her lips parted just slightly. Her chest rose and fell too fast.

His voice was a caress. “Would a beauty like you care for a drink?”

That damn smirk touched his lips. His eyes never left hers—like he already knew the answer.

Y/N lifted her chin. She would not melt. She was not going to fall apart just because Azriel looked like sex and shadow and everything she’d ever wanted in a male.

Confident girl. You are a confident girl.

“Well,” she said, dragging her gaze over him like a slow sweep of heat, “I was getting quite parched.”

Yes, good one idiot.

His eyes darkened, gaze dropping to her mouth, and then lower—to the way her gold dress shimmered across her curves. His tongue swept over his bottom lip. Barely. But she saw it.

Cauldron save me.

Azriel smirked, eyes gleaming. “Come on, then.”

So, they slipped back toward the bar, shoulder brushing shoulder.

She felt Selene’s knowing smirk as she passed, Lalia’s delighted squeal—but none of it mattered.

Not when Azriel was walking beside her.

Not when his shadows reached for her, teasing at the hem of her dress like they wanted to know how far it went.

They made it to the bar. Ordered more drinks. He stood close. Too close. His scent wrapped around her—leather, cedar, wind after rain.

As they waited for their drinks, he asked, “So… how’d you find your way to Velaris?”

Y/N took her time before answering, letting her eyes roam lazily up his frame. “I wanted to see the City of Starlight for myself. And”—she sipped her new drink—“a certain High Lord was very happy to accommodate that request.”

Azriel’s jaw twitched. Rhys. He was going to kill him. And then thank him, but after he beat him.

He forced a breath and tilted his head. “Well? How are you enjoying it so far?”

Y/N’s lips curved, her eyes drifting toward the floor-to-ceiling windows behind the bar where the lights of Velaris shimmered like starlight across the Sidra. “It’s… magic,” she admitted softly. “Everything about it. The food, the people, the sky at night—how everyone looks like they belong, even when they’re wildly different.” She looked back at him, her smile quieter now. “I’ve never felt so safe and alive at the same time.”

Azriel stared at her.

That look on her face—unfiltered wonder, reverence—it did something to him. Stirred something old and tender. Because this was his home. His city. His blood in every street, every rooftop, every shadow. And she loved it.

She loved something that was his.

He wanted to give her all of it.

He continued to say something about Rita’s, how it hadn’t changed in a decade, but his words blurred as Y/N’s eyes flicked over his shoulder.

Her smile faltered.

There—at the Inner Circle’s booth—sat the same female from earlier. The one with the polished gold cuffs and perfect posture. The one whose hand had rested so comfortably on Azriel’s forearm. She laughed at something Mor said, but her eyes drifted toward the bar.

Toward them.

Y/N forced her gaze away quickly, but not quickly enough.

Azriel’s voice faded. His head tilted slightly, and she felt his attention narrow, zeroing in on her like a string pulled tight between them.

His fingers brushed lightly over the side of her hand where it rested on the counter. “What is it?”

She blinked up at him, trying to smooth her expression, but it was too late. The shadows around him had already begun to coil—alert, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said, too fast.

His brow furrowed. “You looked like you saw something you didn’t like.”

Her throat felt thick. She hated this—how easily her heart twisted when she had no claim to make. No right to ask.

She tried to shrug it off. “It’s nothing. I was just—” Tried to deflect with a soft laugh, lifting the drink to her lips. “You interrogate everyone this much, shadowsinger?”

He didn’t smile. His voice lowered. “No. Just you.”

Azriel didn’t say anything at first. He just watched her.

She wished he would say something to break the silence—but instead, her mind filled it for him.

Of course she didn’t belong. Not here. Not next to him. Not when there were women like that.

Her gaze dropped to his arm, remembering that other hand there—delicate and poised and so casual in its ownership. Her own fingers twitched against the counter, as if she could erase the memory.

Azriel followed her line of sight. Then looked back up sharply.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Tell me.”

She bit her lip. “That woman. The one with the gold cuffs. She was sitting with you earlier.”

“Elain,” he said quickly, frowning now. “That’s… Elain.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “She had her hand on you. I— it’s not like I have any right to ask, but she was touching you.”

“She always does that,” he said, eyes narrowing. “I don’t ask for it. I don’t… want it. She and I aren’t—anything. Not anymore.”

Something flickered in his eyes then. A quiet desperation, as if he needed her to believe it.

“I didn’t want to assume,” Y/N said, her voice thin. “I just… I didn’t want to let myself hope if…”

Azriel reached for her hand then—not a brush, not a ghost of a touch, but a sure, grounding grip. His fingers slid over hers, warm and solid.

“You’re not hoping for something that isn’t already yours.”

She stared at him. Her heart beat against her ribs like wings.

He leaned in just slightly, shadows curling protectively around them both. “Whatever you want from me… I’ll give it. All of it.”

And when she said nothing—because she couldn’t breathe—he added, voice gentler, “You don’t need to question your place here. Not with me.”

Y/N swallowed, blinking up at him. And for once, the ache inside her started to ease.

Because she believed him.

“I’m sorry for acting so possessive—it’s not like me.”

Azriel chuckled, low and warm. “You should see me when someone talks to you. I almost threw that male across the bar.”

That startled a laugh from her—a breath of relief and disbelief tangled into one. She let it fill her chest, let it settle the last of that ache in her gut.

Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave hers. “Would you like to go sit down? Somewhere quieter?”

Y/N nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting again. “As long as there is more alcohol.”

Azriel grinned as he gently guided her through the crowd, his hand low on her back, shadows trailing like silk behind them. “Need some liquid courage?”

Y/N just giggled as they settled into a booth in the far corner—half-shielded by a velvet curtain.

As they sat down, Azriel asked, “Alright. Let’s start simple. Favorite color.”

Y/N laughed. “What, did we not cover that on our last date?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“Wow. Such a deep question,” she said dryly. “Okay, let me guess. Yours is black.”

Azriel gave a slow, faux-offended blink. “That’s profiling.”

“You are literally wearing black right now.”

“And you wear everything yellow and gold,” he replied smoothly, eyes dipping again to where the dress clung to her.

She flushed and took another drink. “Okay, Shadowsinger. Real answer.”

“Blue,” he said. “The color of the Sidra just before dawn. Yours?”

“Purple. The deep kind—like thunderclouds.”

At some point, she moved to cross her legs and their knees bumped—and didn’t move apart again.

Her voice dipped lower. “Alright. Truth or dare.”

He arched a brow. “You’re playing dirty now.”

“Truth,” she said, smug.

Azriel leaned back slightly, studying her. “What did you think the first time you saw me?”

Y/N laughed, cheeks already warm with wine. “I thought you looked like a sin I’d commit twice. And then ask for a third round.”

Azriel let out a low groan, dragging a hand over his face. “Cauldron.”

“Your turn,” she said, smug.

He leaned in, shadows curling toward her like fingertips. “Dare.”

She blinked. “I thought you were a truth kind of male.”

“I already know my truths. Let’s see what you’ll make me do.”

Her lips parted slightly. “I dare you to… tell me something you want. Right now.”

Azriel’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Then her collarbone. Then the curve of her bare thigh, pressed close to his.

“You,” he said.

The air turned molten.

He didn’t move—not yet. But his shadows tangled tighter around her ankles, brushing up her calf. She felt their tug like a whisper against skin.

Y/N’s breath caught. Her glass was empty again, she wasn’t sure when.

She dared, “And what would you do if I said I want you, too?”

Azriel’s pupils blew wide.

His voice was nearly a growl. “I’d take you out of this place. Now.”

And gods help her, she was tempted.

Their knees touched. His hand was now on the seat behind her, thumb brushing slow circles against her shoulder.

“I should’ve danced with you first,” he said. “Should’ve never let another male near you.”

“You didn’t even know I was here,” she teased, eyes heavy-lidded.

Azriel leaned in. His nose brushed hers. “Didn’t have to. My shadows did. They were frantic the moment you walked in.”

She smiled. “Possessive, remember?”

His grin was wicked. “You make it hard not to be.”

And she knew—if he kissed her now, she’d never want to stop.

As the next round arrived, they slipped deeper into conversation, the space between them disappearing inch by inch. Every word built something. Every glance tightened the unknown thread between them.

And after awhile, the bass shifted, slow and sensual.

Y/N’s breath caught as his fingers ghosted near hers, not touching—daring her.

She couldn’t think of anything.

“Do you still know how to dance?” she asked, feigning casual even as her heart raced.

“How could I forget?” he murmured, offering his hand.

Y/N slid her fingers into his as she got up from the booth and Azriel pulled her into the crowd, into the rhythm, into him.

The way he moved—smooth, controlled, predatory.

His hands found her hips like he’d always known exactly where to touch. She swayed against him, body sliding against his.

Mother above, he feels like sin. Like trouble I’d let ruin me.

Her back brushed his chest. She felt his breath at her neck. Her heartbeat thundered.

They moved together, grinding to the beat, hips locked in time. His palms pressed lower on her waist, pulling her in.

She turned—slow, seductive—arms curling around his neck. Her fingers played with the ends of his hair, tugging lightly. His hands slid across her bare back.

He looked down at her like he wanted to devour.

She was drenched in heat. And not just from the dancing. Every place they touched sparked. Every shift of her hips a tease.

He smells so good. Looks like a damn fantasy. His hands are so—

He dipped his head—closer, closer.

She swore her knees wobbled. Her lips parted on instinct.

But, someone bumped into them.

A deep voice said, “I am so sorry, Azriel. Didn’t see you there.”

They both looked up—and were met with a familiar, wicked grin.

Cassian.

Azriel turned his head slowly, smile tight. “All good, brother. Though it’d be a shame if someone stepped on your toes with how clumsy you are.”

Cassian just smirked, glancing down at Y/N and then back to Azriel. “Would be an even bigger shame if someone stepped into your spot and stole your date.”

Azriel’s hand twitched as he reached to grab Cassian’s collar—but the general twirled away with a bark of laughter, sauntering back to Nesta, who just shook her head and waved at Y/N.

Y/N laughed, waving back. “That must be the famous Cassian.”

Azriel groaned. “Unfortunately.”

She grinned. “I like him.”

“Of course you do,” he muttered, eyes flicking down to her mouth. “You like trouble.”

“You’re one to talk,” she whispered, pulling him back into the rhythm of the music, their bodies finding that sweet, slow sway again.

~~~

Later into the night, Y/N could barely feel her feet anymore.

Whether it was the dancing or the drinks or the molten heat of Azriel’s gaze burning into her all night, she wasn’t sure. But standing still now, body still buzzing, she realized something very important:

She was drunk. Like… really drunk.

And Azriel was right in front of her.

Cauldron, she wanted to ask if they could leave together. Wanted to close the distance and whisper something wicked against his jaw. Her lips practically tingled with it.

But walking was a risk. Speaking? Even worse.

Not that what she had in mind involved much talking.

But before she could do anything, Selene and Lalia appeared at her side, cheeks flushed, makeup smudged from too much laughing.

“We’re very drunk,” Selene announced, clutching her arm. “Like, we’re gonna fall into the river if we don’t go home.”

“So, we decided it’s best that we go to bed. My friend is going to take us back,” Lalia added, nodding slowly. Then her gaze flicked to Azriel and she grinned at Y/N. “You can stay though. And have fun.”

Lalia, drunker than she realized, said it way too loud. And the wink that was made was not subtle.

Azriel chuckled behind her.

Y/N’s eyes went wide. She turned, face flushed. And then—of course—she tripped in her heels.

Azriel moved instantly, catching her by the waist. Her hands fisted in his shirt as he steadied her, and she clung there for a moment, laughing breathlessly.

“Oh, I am way too drunk,” she laughed. “I really, really want to stay with you tonight but… I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Azriel tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting into that devastating smirk. “Why?” he asked, voice a little husky. “Scared you might jump into another pool?”

She snorted, laughing. “That. And I think you might be holding my hair back over the toilet instead of… in the sheets.”

The second the words left her mouth, her eyes blew wide.

She slapped a hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

Azriel barked out a laugh, the sound low and genuine and unguarded. “Cauldron,” he grinned, “you’re trouble.”

She groaned and hid her face in his chest. He didn’t move away. In fact—he clung to her tighter.

“I wouldn’t mind helping in both ways,” he said, voice lowering, one hand rising to tip her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Although I vastly prefer the second.”

Her lips parted. Her heart sprinted.

“Don’t tempt me,” she whispered. “You’re bad. Very, very bad.”

Azriel leaned in, slightly swaying, the alcohol in him loosening the ever-tight restraint he wore. His forehead rested against hers, his shadows curling lazily around her hips.

“Will you be at Starfall?” he murmured. Cauldron, he couldn’t even think straight.

Y/N nodded. “Wouldn’t miss you—it.”

His smile was slow. Warm. Wrecking. “Good. Then go home and get your beauty sleep. We’ve got tomorrow.”

Y/N pouted, swaying a little. “Very, unfortunately, very good idea.”

He dipped closer, voice brushing her ear like a secret. “If you look half as good tomorrow as you do tonight, I’m not letting you out of my arms. Just so you know.”

She shivered. Then leaned up, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“I hope you do hold my hair tomorrow. But not for throwing up.”

Azriel stilled.

She pulled back, winked. “Goodnight, shadowsinger.”

Then she turned, hips swaying in that damn gold dress as she walked away, tipsy and glowing and completely his.

She will be his.

Azriel exhaled, ran a hand through his hair, and watched her vanish into the night with her friends.

Yeah. He was drunk.

And very, very smitten.

Oh Mother, the headache tomorrow from the alcohol and his brothers was enough to make him realize he also very much needed to go bed as well.

[emeraldserenade]

Hey

Can I request something for Bob Floyd?

Bob and reader have been dating for a few months and are very happy. One day reader finds out that she is pregnant. She is nervous about telling Bob, especially because they haven't talked about that topic yet. Bob immediately notice that something is wrong. When reader tells him that she is pregnant, he gets excited and is very happy.

Thank you in advance 💗

Surprise Pregnancy ~ Robert "Bob" Floyd

synopsis: Even if it wasn't planned, Bob's excited to be a dad

tw: fem!reader, pre established relationship, pregnancy, Bob has a breeding kink, pilot!reader, reader's call sign is Doll,

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi, Sara!! I love this idea, Bobby would be so excited to have a baby with the woman he loves!!

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Dating Robert Floyd was a dream come true, he was attentive and loving. Even in the harder moments, the ones where you argued about things, he never raised his voice or made a harsh movement. He was careful and precise, like always.

Maybe that's why you weren't scared of Bob's reaction to you being pregnant. But you were still nervous, you two never talked about kids. It seemed to early in the relationship to bring them up, sure Bob's talked about making you a mom, but that's always when he's on the edge of falling apart in you. But now, you realized you were three months late, something you filed away as stress, and the positive pregnancy tests sat on your bathroom counter.

You had to tell him soon, you had to make the decision on whether to keep it or not. If you did keep it, you would have to move to desk duty as soon as possible. You decided to tell Bob that day, you lived in the same apartment. You paced your bathroom, your bedroom, your hallway, the living room, the kitchen, the hallway outside of Bob's door, and Bob's living room. Bob watched you pace, the way you would pause, look at him, shake your head, and go back to pacing.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Bob finally asked, reaching out to grab your hands. You let him pull you to stand in front of him and took a deep breath.

"I'm pregnant," you whispered, your eyes trained on your joined hands.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my," Bob slipped off the couch and landed on his knees. You were going to ask what he was doing but he landed kiss after kiss to your stomach. "I'm going to be a dad. You're going to be a mom," Bob mumbled, his face still pressed against you.

"You're not leaving?" You asked, it was the one thing you couldn't stop thinking about.

"What?" Bob stood up and held your face in his hands with reverence. "Why would I run, honey?"

"Because we haven't talked about kids and we've only been together for a few months," you told him.

"Darling, there is nothing more that I want than to have a child with the woman I love and intend to spend the rest of my life with," Bob reassured you.

"You love me?" You knew he did, you two just hadn't said it yet.

"Of course I do," Bob kissed you and you melted against him.

"The others are going to argue over godparentship," you laughed, your shoulders feeling lighter.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You and Bob sat in the room as you waited for the doctor to come back in. You had gotten an appointment as soon as you could and now you were laid out on a bed.

"Ok, let's see your baby," the doctor spoke as she walked in. "And you were right, tests confirm you're three months pregnant."

You suppressed your flinch at the cold gel but smiled wide when you saw your baby on the screen. "Can we get like 10 copies?"

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Hey," You walked in with Bob by your side, the rest of the team were all sitting at various spots of the empty Hard Deck. Pete was standing behind the bar with Penny and Bob gave your hand a squeeze to help ground you.

"Hey, you two," Natasha said and handed you both beers.

"Oh, I can't have this," you told her, setting the bottle down on the bartop.

"Why not?" Mickey tried to nudge it to you but you pushed it farther away. Bob slyly handed you the ultrasound photo from his back pocket and you handed it directly to Natasha, knowing how loudly she would react.

"No fucking way!" Natasha shouted as she pulled you into a hug.

"Congratulations," Penny said, having picked up on what was happening.

"What is going on?" Bradley questioned, Natasha still hugging you.

"Doll's pregnant," Penny told the rest and you were suddenly in a very large group hug.

"How far along?" Pete asked and you grimaced. Everyone went back to their original seats as Penny took away the bottle of bear and handed you a can of Sprite.

"Three months, but we've only known for a week," you responded.

"You're grounded, effective immediately," Pete told you and you laughed while nodding.

"I figured as much."

"Wait, how'd you not notice for three months?" Jake asked.

"I've always had spotty periods, plus I've been stressed," you told him.

"So?"

"Bagman, it makes sense," Natasha defended you. Bob pulled you back into his side, his arm sneaking around your waist to rest his hand on your stomach.

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[iscdisc]

Defending 2012 Casey within the context of the dumbass "love triangle" because I can and I will-

So as you can already tell, this is going to be a long ass novel from me talking about Casey within the context of 2012's poor excuse for a "love triangle" between himself, April, and Donnie- ✌️ Lmao

Maybe I'm just biased because I enjoy 2012 Casey a lot, I won't deny that possibility, but personally? When I truly dissect the, "love triangle" and who had the most problematic behavior within it (canonically speaking-), I get something like this:

Let me elaborate on why I view Casey's portion the way I do-

Part A: Walking through Casey's Perspective

So imagine you're Casey Jones at the start of Season 2, right. LMAO || You meet this girl (April) in the hallway, who you practically beg to tutor you because you don't want to get kicked off the hockey team. She's pretty average all around (Meaning Casey wouldn't have suspected her involvement in anything fantastical-). You guys maybe have some romantic chemistry together that she's not entertaining (At the moment-), suddenly get startled by a mutant "creature" (Who was just poor Timothy,, 😔), find out she knows a thing or two about fighting. Pretty cool so far- You start hanging out with her more after that (Since we can assume they were spending time together during school hours / during the in-between episode of, "Mikey Gets Shell-acne" before Casey makes his second appearance-). It gets to the point where you're the person she turns to when she's lonely, which transitions into a heartfelt conversation about things "being out of your control". A second bizarre event happens (The Foot Soldiers ambushing them at the ice rink-), she leaves for an undetermined amount of time, but comes back for you and practically runs / falls into your arms out of relief of knowing you're alright. It feels pretty apparent that something's going on between you guys at this point-

You confide in her when you have your second run in with a mutant (Raphael-), she vouches for you when you discover her friends / allies for the first time (The Turtles and Splinter). You hang out alone together pretty frequently (i.e. Casey and April at the beginning of, "Fungus Humongous", Casey and April during, "Of Rats and Men" & "Wrath of Tigerclaw" despite Irma technically third wheeling, etc.). She's very openly flirtatious with you. You offer to teach her how to ice skate (As someone who plays Hockey-) and have spoken about your Dad to her multiple times (Since Irma makes a comment about it in, "A Chinatown Ghost Story"-). So clearly you're opening up to this girl.

This is purely speculative on my part, but it doesn't seem like a wild take that April and Casey could've been dating on the low or testing out a relationship without making it official during this time in S2- It would explain Casey's concern about whether or not April talks about him during the Season 2 finale and why April reacted to strongly to Casey specifically showing up safe at her apartment in that same finale. My personal theory is that April called things off either after, "A Chinatown Ghost Story" or during "Into Dimension X!", as she felt things were too complicated (Most likely because of Donnie-). Maybe she thought it would help their bickering? I don't know-

Back to Casey's perspective: Things go really really south in NYC and you end up fleeing to her family's Farmhouse in upstate New York for refuge. She's been acting super distant lately, so you ask her about it, which causes her to blow up at you a bit, so you decide to back off. The next time you two truly talk is when her Mother comes back unexpectedly and she's venting to you like she used to. Because she trusts you to receive her feelings as her friend (And potentially ex boyfriend??). After that Mother disaster, you sit beside her and ask her how she's doing right now, which of course she's not doing great. You guys spend more quality time together while the Turtles go into the woods for training purposes. She's clearly a lot livelier and easygoing around you then she is around Donnie (Not trying to shit on Donnie, but canonically speaking this feels very true- 💀).

During an Invasion of new aliens (The Triceratons-), you end up getting captured. She tells you she'll come back for you, and she does just that. You flee to Outer Space and get into shenanigans during your space travels (Mainly referring to, "Beyond the Known Universe"-). She wants to save an entire race of aliens, you support her in that effort. After Space, she gets her official kunoichi title from Master Splinter, you're proud of her for that and show your support by attending the ceremony. When she starts behaving strangely due to her Aeon Crystal and molecularly scatters your mutual friend / teammate (Donnie), you show her empathy and try to reach her as best as you can. You take on Super Shredder together, twice ! Sure, you weren't perfect and had your moments of annoying her, but for the most part, the two of you felt pretty close.

I say all of this to say, if I were Casey, I would be beyond confused at her ending up with Donnie somehow (Which feels confirmed basically, considering Donnie and April's interactions in Season 5 + The Ice Cream Kitty Music Video. 💀 Lmao)- Because from his perspective, things were really cool between them (With them even potentially dating or attempting a relationship during Season 2 if my theory holds up, which I feel it does-), you know what I mean? Not saying any of that has to mean April "should've" chosen him or ended up with him instead, but you can kind of understand why it's confusing-? || Which directly leads me into my next talking point !

Part B: Casey in relation to April (As well as his problematic interactions with / towards her-)

I know there are a lot of people who feel Casey has been just as egregious as Donnie when it came to April and how he behaved around her, but I sort of agree sort of disagree-??

I promise I'm not saying this to be biased or to give Casey a pass where I wouldn't give Donnie one for similar reasons, but I find it hard to take Casey's problematic instances with April "as seriously" given how the writers handled his character. A lot of Casey's poorer moments with April feel like acts of sabotage on his character rather than them being more organic flaws of his character as a whole-

For example, the episode, "Plan 10" when April and Casey switched minds and Casey was being incredibly creepy about being in April's body. Was that disgusting and weird? Absolutely. But I would've accepted it more as a genuine character flaw of his if we had seen him be weird towards or around other girls outside of April prior to this scene. If that makes sense?? Instead of the writers simply having him behave this way as "a joke" or because he's a teenage boy and "of course he would do that". It also doesn't sit right with me because we've seen Casey be relatively normal with and around April prior to this scene, not to mention the fact that Casey has a younger sister (Though obviously we don't know how much younger she is-). Things like this make it difficult for me to view these moments between Casey and April as completely problematic, since it feels pretty clear that writers wanted to paint Casey as the lesser romance option compared to "poor innocent Donnie". It constantly felt as though they were wanting to play into that trope of, "Donnie being the one to 'save' the girl he's super into (April) from her loser 'boyfriend' who's terrible / talks to much / is loud / is stupid / etc. (Casey) because she deserves a 'nice guy' like Donnie"- 💀

So for these reasons, I approach Casey's problematic instances with April a bit differently. Was he being authentically problematic, or were the show writers wanting us as the audience to think lesser of him for their own agendas (Because we can't forget that Casey's character feels sabotaged outside of the love triangle sub plot too-)? Time to bring up some of these moments though ! I'm mainly going to bring up ones I've seen people talk about the most and give my personal take on them-

• Moment #1: The hallway scene from Season 2 Episode 4, "Mutagen Man Unleashed"

I've seen people bring up this moment a few times, and I gotta be real, I don't get it. In a very literal sense, I understand that April's a girl and Casey's a boy and boys / men need to be more mindful of how the interact with girls / women. I understand that. But to me, this felt like something Casey would do regardless of the person?? I honestly felt like this was just his pushy / direct / in your face personally shining through here rather than him intentionally trying to be creepy or "tower over April", etc. At this point, he'd just met her, and while he does flirt with her a bit later in the episode, I didn't get the impression that he was behaving that way because he was attracted to her. Again, if we had seen him act this way outside of April, I would lean more towards this being a problematic instance with April due to her being a group and the being how Casey interacts with most girls he meets. But because that hasn't / doesn't happen (Until I guess later on with Karai in Season 3, but I don't really know how much that one counts as far as one to one comparison-), this doesn't come off that bad to me-

I find him guilty of just having an eccentric personality here (As well as April being uncomfortable mainly because she just met him. Like yeah, that's a weird first impression all around-). Lmao

• Moment #2: The Kraathatrogon scene from Season 2 Episode 13-14, "The Manhattan Project (Parts 1 & 2) / Wormquake!"

This scene is not only disgusting, but one of those instances where I would've found it more believable if we had seen this kind of behavior from Casey prior. I can't help but feel like the constant scapegoat here is "Casey's a teenage boy, so obviously he's gonna do shit like this". 💀 || It shouldn't be expected or "the norm" for boy / girl dynamics to be like this. It's harmful on both sides (Though, I would argue more harmful for girls personally-). But that rant aside, this doesn't feel like an organic flaw from Casey as a person / character, this just feels like something the writers chose to do because they're weird and creepy towards April 90% of the time. It also doesn't help that if this scene was set up different and April was in the middle with Casey and Donnie on both sides of her, Casey would still get accused rather than Donnie. I assure you he would have. Which is also upsetting because I genuinely believe canon 2012 Donnie is WAY creepier than canon 2012 Casey- I'm not saying Donnie would do that April, but I'm not saying I have evidence that he wouldn't either (That also reminds me of how uncomfortable I am with Donnie's Robo design / Which is technically Metalhead 2.0- / in the Mutant Apocalypse Arc has April's ass sticker out where his "heart" is. That gives me the biggest ick, I'm sorry-). 💀

So my verdict for this scene is that Casey was not guilty (Especially since he literally didn't do it- LMAO), him and April were just victims of a really creepy and unnecessary scene- 😔👍

• Moment #3: The mind swap scene from Season 2 Episode 21, "Plan 10"

Again, another instance that (to me) reeks of "he's a teenage boy" scapegoating as a way to "push this potential pairing" or some shit (Because why else would that have April mind swap with Casey specifically- 🙄). Again, I would've found this flaw more believable / authentic if Casey had exhibited these kinds of behaviors in the past. But another thing that kind of sticks out to me here as well is putting this under the context of them potentially dating by this point-?? This obviously wouldn't justify anything Casey did here, but it's sort of interesting to look at some of these moments between them under that lens. Not to give the writers any "benefit of the doubt" whatsoever, but imagine Casey behaving in these ways because he "thought it would be okay" since they were basically dating at this point (Again, hypothetically / theoretically-)? Not that it would be any less problematic under that context, but at least to me it would come off less predatory and something Casey did to purposefully make her uncomfortable-? Possibly? With April reacting so strongly because A. That was genuinely a weird and inappropriate thing to do of course and B. She was super embarrassed that her (hypothetical / theoretical) boyfriend was being so immature about this right now- It gives me the vibes of teenage couples in shows where the girlfriend is constantly getting upset with the boyfriend, etc. etc. You could kind of see it right? Lmao

My verdict is that Casey was incredibly creepy here but it's hard for me to see it as just "Casey being Casey" because I'm positive the creepy ass writers were projecting here. 💀👍

• Moment #4: The "peace hug" from Season 2 Episode 23, "A Chinatown Ghost Story"

Continuing my theory with this moment here, but also using some canonical evidence like April being flirtatious with Casey in episodes like, "The Manhattan Project" were she does allow him to get physically close with her and how in, "Target: April O'Neil" April practically runs into his arms and doesn't seem that bothered by it, I don't necessarily think Casey meant any harm here-?? I wouldn't be surprised if Casey was under the impression that April was okay with physical contact on occasion (Especially with him-), so it would make sense for him to unknowingly / unintentionally overstep this boundary to me. It also doesn't help that April's incredibly hard to read most of the time due to her acting one way in one instance and a completely different way in another for no explained reason (Aside from bad writing-). If Casey was theoretically / hypothetically her somewhat boyfriend at this time, it would kind of make sense her him to hug her unprompted-?? Again, April's allowed to have boundaries and I'm not denying that, but it really doesn't help that she's a poor communicator when it comes to those boundaries. :/

I also want to point out that Casey mainly hugged her here to get under Donnie's skin in that moment, which isn't cool to do either since he's not taking April into consideration by doing that, but it also communicates (to me anyway) that he wasn't trying to be malicious with April specifically. You know what I mean?

My verdict is that, at worst, Casey mistakenly overstepped a boundary here.

• Moment #5: The ninja retreat discussion scene from Season 3 Episode 8, "Vision Quest"

I don't know if this is super talked about? But I don't find this moment to be all that weird personally.

If anything, I think he's just being a little extra or "funny" in his own way with April. But I admit, I'm probably being biased once again- Since in the context of my theory that they were a romantic item behind the scenes in Season 2, I would imagine that their relationship was either put on hiatus or completely called off at this point in the narrative, and Casey's comment here could be read as him making an inside joke between them. He knows nothing's going to happen between them, but he can't help but push those buttons anyway (Which would be a call back to Season 2, where April acknowledges this about him-). The face she makes also kind of reinforces this take for me too a little bit. But again, that could be my biases talking here. I also find the comments harmless as well considering Casey respects her boundaries / listens to her more than he doesn't (Compared to Donnie- 🙄) and April is capable of kicking his ass by this point if she needed to-

There are other smaller moments from this Arc that also influence the harmlessness I feel about this particular moment, like them having a heart to heart about her mother in Season 3 Episode 3, "Buried Secrets, with April choosing to talk to Casey over Leo / Raph / and potentially Donnie (Since it's unclear when her and Casey started talking before Raph came out get house-) at that time.

So verdict is that this is kind of nothing burger moment to me. Lmao

• Moment #6 & 7: The astro suits scene as well as the group hug scene from Season 4 Episode 1, "Beyond the Known Universe"

The first moment is one of worst scenes to me, I hate this scene with a passion. I don't have any kind of explanation for Casey's behavior here outside of the writers wanting this to happen, just like most of his uncomfortable / sexualizing esque (??) moments with April.

So my verdict with this scene is that this is 100% problematic from Casey's end, especially given April voicing her discomfort shortly afterwards.

As for the group hug at the end of the same episode, I'll say it's 50/50 for me. Again, I don't think Casey means any harm by his physical affection (Especially since he's very physical with the others as well-), but I do acknowledge that April mentioned she spoke to both of them before about group hugs. So I can understand why that's him once again crossing a boundary she placed, one that she has actually vocalized before-

//

So all in all, I don't think Casey was that bad with April at all. I do think a lot of that can be contributed to the fact that he doesn't get much screentime in general, because I feel like if he did, we possibly could've had more to talk about if that were the case- But as far as canonical moments, 2012 Casey wasn't very problematic towards April in my eyes. We can see those two having a really good relationship outside of these specific instances, and that one of the biggest reasons why I'm a 2012 platonic Capril enthusiast ! If you'd like to hear more from me about these two specifically, I have a post about it under the hashtag #platonic 2012 capril ! ✨

So that's one part of the triangle-

Now for the other part !

Part C: Casey in relation to Donnie (As well as his "problematic interactions" with / towards him-)

I'm gonna say it right now, 9 times out of 10 Donnie deserved it. Hear me out- LMAO

With how obsessed Donnie is towards April, you're really gonna sit here and tell me who would be just as obsessed with Casey but in a completely negative way? Like, bro. Donnie witnessed Casey being close with April in 3 separate times before actually meeting him in Season 2 Episode 8, "The Good, the Bad, and Casey Jones". He saw Casey twice with April in, "Mutagen Man Unleashed", and again at the end of, "Target: April O'Neil".

So he knows who he is for sure. I wouldn't be surprised if Donnie knew his full legal name, his SSN, his home address, his medical history, all kinds of shit. You cannot convince me otherwise- And what an Oscar performance these writers had him put on when April introduced Casey to them, because there's no way Donnie didn't know him already. Someone that close to April?? Please.

But because of how indifferent he came across during their initial meeting, it would make sense for Casey to be blindsided by Donnie switching up "out of nowhere" (Because to Casey, it would be-) and suddenly hating his guts. Casey had no idea Donnie even existed before, "The Good, the Bad, and Casey Jones", so of course he's not going to understand why Donnie feels as though he's "infringing on him and April''. A girl who doesn't "belong to him" and is allowed to have friends. 💀

So to me, a lot of Casey's arguing with Donnie stems from him returning the kind of behavior Donnie's been giving him since they met. Because real talk, I'd be like, "Okay, screw you too-" as well. LMAO || But the biggest reason why I claim that this is more Donnie's provocation than Casey's is because we've seen Casey be genuine with Casey or put their "rivalry" aside more than Donnie has. When Donnie says Casey's name in a very bothered way despite him simply standing there in, "Of Rats and Men". When Casey genuinely reaches out to the guys for help when April's in danger in episodes like, "Fungus Humongous" / "A Chinatown Ghost Story" and Donnie's got to response is the yell at him + Casey's entire disposition while researching Ho Chan was very neutral / wasn't exuding any malice towards Donnie whatsoever. Casey never blaming Donnie when something happens to April the same way Donnie blames Casey (i.e. When April got taken by Baxter Stockman + when Donnie failed to catch April before she fell into the mutagen in, "The Lonely Mutation of Baxter Stockman". Casey didn't say shit about that- Lmao). The many instances that Casey would protect Donnie or have his back during a fight (As well as everyone else's-). The fact that Casey was able to genuinely apologize to Donnie and sincerely ask from his help during, "Race with the Demon", not to mention their name calling banter in that same episode- A lot of that friendship growth was initiated by Casey, not Donnie. Between the two of them, Casey definitely handles their dynamic more maturely in my honest opinion.

So I don't really feel bad for Donnie when Casey's mean to him back or when Casey has his little moments of poking at him. Donnie's the one that primarily draws out this negative dynamic between them mainly because he had a challenging time not being territorial over April (Not to forget that April also stretched out that issue as well, given her mixed signs in the writing-). So I can't view Casey's behavior towards Donnie as super problematic here (Maybe just a little immature-). Which, I'm fighting the urge to go on a Jonatello rant right now given all these little moments, I gotta be honest- LMAO

As far as him being in competition with Donnie over April, I kind of get that-?? Which goes back to when I was doing a small play by play of Casey's perspective. If he already had something pretty clear going on with April (Even a potential boyfriend / girlfriend relationship-), it would make sense that he would get defensive about it. Why should he just sit there and be okay with some other person thinking they have a chance with April? Egos are definitely at play here, but taking in all of the context surrounding Casey's relationship with April (Platonically and romantically-), I can understand why Casey reacted that way. Which honestly I'm surprised they even made 2012 Apritello canon / endgame, to be honest?? Not that I thought either paring with April was going to be confirmed, but between the two options, Casey made more sense to me personality and dynamic wise (canonically speaking)?? I don't know- 😭👍

In conclusion, I don't think Casey was really an issue in the love triangle. It was mainly Donnie and April who didn't know how to properly communicate or drug things out in that "dynamic" to me. If anything, Casey seemed to be building a good friendship with both of them individually?? It would've been cool if it stayed that way, but oh well- 💀 Lmao

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER NINE - chicken scratch

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || AO3 LINK || NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

The beep of a heart monitor is constant background noise over the course of the next week.  Constant.  Rhythmic as the ticking of the clock across the empty, sterile hospital room, and just as annoying as the fluorescent lights above your head.  If it weren't for the throbbing pain of a concussion in your skull and the debilitating ache of dark bruises, you'd be restless in the quiet silence, but right now—all you really have the energy to do is sleep and think.

Think think think.

You only remember bits and pieces of what happened after Soap found you both.  You recall, vaguely, Price's countless apologies upon getting ushered back into another helicopter, the warmest hug you’ve ever received and a quick once over for any bad injuries.  You remember Gaz looking rather worse for wear as he limps down a runway—a twisted arm positioned carefully over Soap's shoulder.  Pale, dazed, jaw tight with pain.  You remember wrestling out of Ghost’s grasp to greet him, tearful and hyperventilating.

“Happens every time,” he had managed with a tight smile and a thumbs up, once you calmed down enough to breathe properly.

"Nice eye,"  you remember blearily telling Soap from where your cheek is pressed to Ghost's back later on.  A nasty bruise blooming across his face where flesh is nearly swollen shut, you had almost forgotten you punched him.  The front of his shirt is speckled with blood but considering he and Price the only ones relatively uninjured, you figure you don't want to know its source. 

"Nice brain,"  he snaps back immediately, eyes flitting across the dried blood that soaks your hair and the side of your sweater.  "Y'lose the last half of it in the crash, Mutt?"

Gaz chuckles deliriously at the comment.  For some reason, it makes you laugh too, and soon enough all three of you are laughing—relieved and hurting.  Even Price shakes his head, somewhat of a smile twitching across his face.  The Captain’s hand doesn't leave your shoulder once Ghost carefully slides you off his back.  Even he seems reluctant to let you go.

You remember throwing up in a bucket in the back of some SUV, then getting put in a hospital bed with painkillers, stitches, and orders not to look at anything too closely.  You aren't even allowed to have the TV on, but you do so sometimes anyway, even if the sight of your father's face on the news makes you nauseous all over again.

Things are quiet.  Too quiet.  For days after the talk with Price you don't get any visitors.  Just a few vague texts from Laswell and a call from Price that pretty much only consists of him dodging your questions.

You think a lot.  

Most of the sparse times you are awake are spent on the floor where all your father's letters are laid out at your feet.  Blue and black ink smudged across delicate, wrinkled, damp paper as you wait for them to dry completely before even daring to move them.  You've reread them all what feels like fifty times—looking for clues of his plans at the time, hints of Ghost, Nikolai, Laswell…anyone, really.  Dates.  Numbers.  Maybe a code hidden in the words?  You work at it every day, only stopping when you feel like you might vomit again.  You find yourself hoping Price will come through the door with orders to move somewhere—or maybe Ghost with more answers to quell your racing mind.  You want to know if Gaz is okay.  Hell, you'd be happy with Soap's presence if it meant conversation or something.

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

There’s a knock at your door, about a week in.

Startled, you nearly jump at the disturbance in the silence, having dozed off on the floor.  Letters and neat cursive signatures swirling in your eyes before you blink the bleariness away.  You grunt as you push yourself up, stumble to the door.  Open it slowly.

You blink when your eyes meet a stubbled, tan face.  "Soap?"  

The soldier in question straightens himself.  He's not in fatigues, for once.  Instead, he's got a dark hoodie on—the hood pulled up over his head and sunglasses to hide the bruise around his eye.  

"Aye,"  The Scott replies, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding your gaze.  "You…free to talk?"

Your mouth opens and shuts again.  Suddenly everything you wanted to say, everything you thought would come flooding out the second you had a visitor flies from your mind.  Really, he was the last person you expected to come knocking.

"I’m due for surgery in an hour.”

A beat of silence passes and his brow furrows.  "Actually?" 

"No.  Joking."

"Cunt,"  he spits with a scoff,  then he straightens himself a little with a steadying breath.  "I owe ya' an apology, kid."

You blink for a second, more surprised than you ever expected yourself to be.  A part of you pegged him as too prideful to ever even toy with the idea, and you find yourself slightly shocked.  You shake it off quick, though, and lean against the doorframe.  "You owe me a little more than that."

"Can y'just…be serious?"  He insists, exasperated.  "For two seconds?"

You chew the inside of your cheek, feigning thoughtfulness as you consider his words.  Watch him purse his lips.  He looks a little worse for wear—stubble thicker than usual and mohawk not nearly as perfect as it usually is.  Instead, it sits on his forehead, sad and flat. 

You push yourself away from the side of the door.

"Alright,"  you say, gesturing for him to step inside your sterile little room.  "Come in."

He pads in after you, eyeing the paper scattered across the floor and the still-damp backpack that sits spread out on the bedside table—along with the lighter and a few multi-colored clumps of what used to be handfuls of string.  

"Watch your step.  You rip any of those letters, I'll kill you."

He huffs, shuffling over to the chair on the far side of the room.  "Aye."

You take a seat on your bed as he fidgets with his bandaged hands and the room feels suddenly awkward.  There's too much to talk about—so much that neither of you can really pinpoint where to start, what to touch on first.  In the end, it's Soap who clears his throat, fidgeting with his hands.  He’s got a tattoo, you notice.  A symbol you don’t recognize.

"So…"  he says.  "You and L.T…"

You, still, have no idea who knows that your dad was friends with Ghost.  You're sure Price does, considering everything, but you're beginning to think you overestimated how close Ghost is with anyone.  You think nobody really knows who Ghost is; what he's been through, why he's here.  You also like to think that, maybe, your dad did.

"Yeah,"  you nod.  "He's not that scary once he saves your life.”

He huffs in reluctant agreement,  "Aye.  Tell me about it."

"He's saved you before?"

Soap sits back in the seat.  Hands clasped in his lap, his leg bounces as he takes a breath.

"Kinda in the job description, Mutt…to save each other's lives,"  he explains with a shrug.  "But yeah.  I owe 'em, especially for all the times he’s saved my arse.”

You bring your legs up on the bed.  Cross them and grab your ankles.  Nod and purse your lips together before you ask sheepishly: “could you…tell me about it?”

He tilts his head, “about what?”

“One of the times.”

He huffs a breath, tilts his head and looks up like he might have more than a few examples to tell.  A moment passes before he sighs and sits back, settling on one.

“About two years ago, whenever I was first assigned 141.  Was returning to base from the scariest OP I’ve had so far whenever somethin’ came up.  Got ambushed, shot at, separated from the group,”  he says, threatening a smile like it might’ve been a good memory.  “Ghost kept my head on while I stumbled through a city floodin’ with mercs, bleedin’ out and everything.  All while shooting and running away from pursuers of his own. Never thought his stupid fuckin’ jokes would ever give him such a tactile advantage.”

You huff, “never expected him to care so much.”

That pulls a chuckle from Soap.

“Damn right,”  he agrees, crossing his arms.  “But anyone who levels that many Shadows in one night is a good man, in my eyes.”

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.  The heart monitor to your right fills the silence for a few moments before you speak up again.

"How is…everything?"  You say.  "With the others."

Soap's lips purse together.  For once, he seems nervous, eyes darting out the window next to you and brow furrowing tight.  Immediately, you tense, your heart rate picking up in your chest.

"It's Gaz, isn't it?"  You press, sitting up straighter.  "Did he die?"

"What?"  Soap chuckles, appalled, and he shakes his head.  "No—no, Christ almighty, Gaz didn't die.  He's fine.  They're all fine.  It's just…"

He clears his throat and gestures uselessly with his hands.

"...It's need-to-know."

You blink at him like he's got four heads.  Panic fades away to confusion as you raise an eyebrow at him, shoulders dropping.

"'Need-to-know'?" You echo.  "The fuck's that mean?"

Soap sighs, looks away again.

"'Means you're getting shipped back to the states, kid."

You think he might-as-well have dumped a bucket of ice water over your head.  Your mind goes blank, swirling questions and what-ifs sucked completely from your brain.  

"Price was supposed to break the news today,"  he explains further.  "'Figured I should stop by before he picked you up to clear the air, y’know?  Leave no bad blood.”

You’re too stunned by his words to really listen, too caught up in the thought that you failed.  You don’t have the codes.  You don’t have training or experience or any of the skills required to be anything more than just another body to protect.  A liability.  A name on a mortuary, if you don’t leave, hide, and stay hidden.  You’ve run out of time and failed.

Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

When you don’t reply, Soap lets out a breath and stands to his feet.

“It was nice knowing ya’,” He places a hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing.  “And I’m sorry.”

Your hands ball into fists, staring at the floor as you clutch the fabric of your sweatpants in your hands.  Your eyes sweeps across the countless letters and birthday cards that litter the ground—soiled, ruined by freezing water and snow.  Pen ink bled out and ruined.  Too late.  Your eyes land on the one he sent just before he disappeared as Soap’s hand disappears from your shoulder; a birthday card signed with the date.  

Beep.  Beep. Beep.

Soap closes the door gently behind him without another word.

Slowly, you slide off the bed.  You reach out and take the birthday card in your hands, still damp from the lakewater.  Six digits.  Circled in red ink.  Shaky handwriting.  There’s zeros after every digit.

Holy fucking shit.

Your feet move before you can even comprehend that you're up and out the door.  The IV track is ripped from your arm before you stumble out into the sterile hallway, alarms beeping in your wake.  Bare feet slide against the hospital floors.  You barely notice how someone yells for you at the counter as you pass, or the raging footsteps behind you.  Nurses, more than likely, that you ignore completely.

"Soap!"  You yell, waving the waterlogged card in your hand as your eyes catch the dark of his hoodie in the elevator.  Your legs burn and your head is pounding so hard from the sudden movement that your vision is dark around the edges, but you press on anyway until you slide into the elevator.  Soap grunts, reaching out to steady you when your legs give and your head swims.

“Jesus, Mutt, what—”

“Take me to Price.”

He blinks, squeezing your upper arms tight, “Price?”

“The code,”  you breathe.  “I know the fucking code.”

There’s a beep.  The elevator opens to the ground floor of the hospital, and suddenly you’ve got guns trained on you from all directions.  Black gear, dark helmets, riot shields and tactical vests.  You barely have time to freeze before Soap jumps in front of you and all hell breaks loose.

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @karurururu @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @nostalgialeech @scuftryo @0alk0msan @synthe4u @stunkbiggu @bebobeboben @enfppixie @lyd14k4y @tlkonthestr33t @raye2000 @shinchanboi @orkwardx0

[coolwyous]

could we get some more aaa maphinz hcs por favor

not only do i GOT U but i also now have a mini playlist <333 AAA MAPHINZ NATION LETS GO! bball!studnon and journalist!sophia we RIDE for u!!!!

the courting process went CRAZZZYYYYY manon was 100% the grand gesture bball stereotype where she was sending 2 dozen roses to sophia's apartment every week, 100% doing the most would make sure the media coordinators had a seat reserved for soph front row (name tag on the chair and EVERYTHING) during post-games so manon could get a good look at her during all the press conferences 😵‍💫 would drive her crazy bc she'd be like "did you like my flowers 🤭" and sophia would leave her on read only for manon to stop by her apt and see the flowers all tucked to the side of the sidewalk 😭 sophia wouldn't even bother to bring them inside, deadass just let them wilt on the sidewalk LMAO (but manon doesn't know that sophia saves 1 single rose from each boquet she sends her <3333)

on that note, i feel like manon is def the type of person who wants to be spoiling sophia and sophia is the person who hates being spoiled!! (very act ii by 4batz coded) aaa sophia grew up without a ton so she got used to taking care of herself thus why she's so hyper-independent and haaaates feeling like she has to rely on anyone, but manon is so insistent! even if sophia never takes her up on it she keeps offering her over and over w consistency just to show her she's so dead serious abt her it's not just a performance or w/e like she is GOING to pay for sophia's nails one day even if it takes 6 months for sophia to agree! manon will WAIT!!! she is DETERMINED to make this girl fold!!!!

sophia does FINALLY fold but it starts off as a terribly confusing situationship 😔 manon is deadass IN LOVE atp she's been trying to bag sophia for this long and when they finally do hookup manz is kicking her feet the morning after "gm beautiful i made us breakfast how do u like ur coffeee 😁😁😁" and sophia is like "uhhh i have work, you can see yourself out" and leaves like nothing happened!! continues to ignore manon on the court!! continues to pretend she doesn't even notice her even though there is clearly something there between them. manon takes it the tiniest bit personally but is like "ok well the easy part is done, we fawkin, but now i gotta make her fall in love w me" and genuinely keeps trying to break sophia's walls down even if sophia pretends she's making zero progress

manon slowly but surely being consistently headass enough that sophia starts to trust her..... ugh i love downbad loser studnon how could sophia not fall for her......

gf era headcannons!!

sophia likes taking photos of their foods when manon takes her on dates to super fancy restaurants but will never take pics of manon. manz LOWKEY takes it personally bc she dresses super nice for these dates and all sophia does is take photos of the food and maybe a selfie and that's it LMAO but little does manon know it's bc sophia sneaks candids of manz when she's ordering or when she's not paying attention :( likes to see the athlete relaxed and not always posing for something

bonus: manon has a picture of sophia's dinner from their first REAL date as her wallpaper bc if anyone asks then she can just be like "oh this was a bomb ass osso bucco i had one time" but secretly she knows its basically a pic of her girl!!

on the topic of anonymity the only time sophia has ever sent "spicy" photos of herself they were all faceless (literally harmless bikini pics!! "purple one or red one?" she simply asked and manon replied w a photo of herself literally on the floor in middle of her apt like 30s later.) manz knows that sophia had them faceless bc she's obsessed w the concept of her anonymity and prob wanted to just tease her, but manz found a loophole bc she wants to flex her hot ass woman! gets the pic printed on a HOODIE and adds the playboy logo to be stupid and it becomes her go-to hoodie for leaving games 🤭🤭 sophia sees it on her instagram feed and ppl are commenting "NEEEEED THIS HOODIE DESIGN WHERE DID SHE GET IT" and sophia is LIVID (but not that mad bc she's possessive and likes that her gf flexes her in subtle ways yessir 🙂‍↕️)

lots of little things that only they know tbh! very "private but not secret" except for sophia it deadass is secret she lowkey ignores manon in public lmao ❤️ but manon is like "nope all good i'm still matching my shoelaces to the color of ur tie during press conferences bc im sprung like that i got us shorty dw 😌"

[misterbenzadrine]

the start of something new (ck x hsm au)

inspired to FINALLY finish this by @bunnybonesstudio thank you thank you you're a gem

ignore the fact that all the hsm outfits are horrendous, seriously who let them wear that? so i did the best i could with what i had

also i really wanted miguel with the wildcats jersey but troy wears the exact shirt miguel is wearing in all three movies...coincidence?? i think not

miguel, popular basketball captain, content to live in his basketball world, meets sam, science whiz and adorkably shy nerd

sam, ever the curious soul, starts questioning if maybe she doesn't just like science and math...hint hint...and inadvertently shows miguel maybe he likes more than just basketball...wink wink

ENTER - the totally homo-repressed status quo crowd - eli and moon

although from two different worlds, both eli and moon have the same agenda: keep miguel and sam in line

eli works double time to convince miguel these "unnatural" thoughts about theatre are just a fluke and hey, everyone wonders from time to time right? but you can't act on them, you're miguel "the man" diaz !

moon is a little more down to earth about sam's curiosity but she still wants her to focus because she may not be "sports" popular but she still has a reputation to uphold and sam may be her best friend but being a weirdo theatre kid is crossing some sort of line

AND NOW, the two immovable forces that REALLY don't want sam and miguel together in theatre: tory and demetri

though tory and demetri have beautiful chemistry and talent onstage - thank you very much 17 school productions since kindergarten - they lowkey hate each other; they're just so comfortable in their crazed artist and the willing henchman dynamic that they don't feel the need to change anything

they're both pretty comfortable in themselves in general, hence why they're such social pariahs to the rest of the school and why they tolerate each other so much (they don't care if their classmates judge them for being openly...theatre kids...wink wink)

demetri hates the idea of samguel's infiltration of the play because "that's not how things work around here, someone like miguel and sam would make our production look ridiculous"

tory hates it because she's jealous of the couple's bond and wishes it was hers instead (who she's jealous of is a matter of opinion...) (demetri thinks she's in love with sam but she chews him out any time he brings them up so he decides to keep his mouth shut)

shenanigans and toxic masculinity speeches from coach lawrence ensue, miguel and sam fight to prove liking more than what's socially acceptable is okay

everyone else foams at the mouth to pry them apart - moon and eli work together to trick miguel into admitting theatre and sam don't matter in front of her; tory and demetri are ever the strategists and switch the callback date to the day of the basketball championship and the decathlon meet; everyone tries to isolate them socially to peer pressure them into going back to normal

however comma through epic musical numbers and the magic of plot, eli and moon start considering if maybe liking "theatre" is okay, demetri and tory realize they don't need to spite others from their community for their previous opinions, and miguel and sam make everyone more comfortable with openly liking what they want to like, happy ending yay everyone's best friends :D

also bonus characters:

robby is another player on the basketball team who goes along with what the team likes BUT he...*dramatic pause* likes to BAKE

he's not all that into the witch hunt over miguel wanting to do theatre but he also sees that miguel's venture into the arts is causing the team to fall apart and he's more concerned about getting the team together so he doesn't really stick up for him either

he has a HUGE crush on tory tho and loves baking things for her, even when she acts indifferent toward him

anthony is yet another basketball player

he's often written off as the "weak link" and the "dumb one" but he's not dumb, he just doesn't care about the main group's drama

he does however have his eye trained on tory and demetri's piano player

alas, kenny, the quiet piano player that's extremely talented and overlooked

he's also not involved in the drama but he kind of hates tory and demetri (they're both so demanding and sarcastic, he can never get a word in)

he keeps an eye on the basketball player with #23 on his jersey (yes it's anthony obviously)

ANDANDAND some sequel shenanigans:

hsm 2 is miguel briefly shoving his other identity and feelings away to go back to normal basketball cool guy which obviously ends up pushing away all the friends he made and changed the minds of

with miguel out of the way, the rest of them get a lot closer

tory and demetri get in a fight about further sabotaging samguel (which demetri lowkey doesn't care about) and sam finds demetri sulking alone and invites him to hang out with the rest of them

eli challenges demetri to a baseball game and when demetri wins, they disappear then reappear wearing each other's clothes (no one acknowledges it but they both get weirdly close after that)

miguel also gets jealous of demetri's sudden closeness with sam without realizing it's not like that, which is really just his fault bc how can you not tell?

tory swoops in to usher miguel farther into his future as a basketball guy (maybe this will get him out of the way for good, she doesn't know for sure)

sam and miguel fight about miguel's sudden asshole stint so he decides to abandon it since the jerky basketball guy isn't who he wants to be, leaving tory frustrated that her plan was ruined again, demetri's happier with this new group of friends, and everyone is together again yay :D

hsm 3 is all about miguel feeling the need to choose one or the other, because the world wants him to pick a side: basketball or theatre

sam throws him for a curve when the post-grad program she wants to do is in okinawa and starts almost immediately after graduation

tory and demetri FINALLY let everyone else help with the spring production and tory certainly finds a new, happier normal among her new cast mates

they all choose their dream colleges, miguel decides on basketball AND theatre (and lowkey tells coach johnny lawrence to deal with it) (johnny doesn't care that much anymore bc he cares about miguel but damn doesn't anyone just like basketball anymore?)

everyone gets their happy ending yay :D

[stuckinheavenwithyou]

Ermmmm if your requests are open, can I have some romantic headcannons of Prussia or Austria <3 thank youuuu

Ofc!!!

PRUSSIA AND AUSTRIA ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS!!

Prussia/ Gilbert Beilschmidt

• okay this guy is a handful let me tell you that! He does try to copy his brother by being affectionate and kind but thats just not him..! There are times where he’s pretty quiet and just wants you to shower him with attention and love. But in general he wants you to love him and only him, no one else!

• he likes, no, LOVES bragging about you to his brother/cousin/friends. He talks about you like you are his prized possesion, holds you close as he talks about you constantly, but ocassionally slips himself into the converstation and talk about how awesome he is and how he used to be a great country. He’s a mouthful and doesnt think before he speaks and accidentally would insult you but he does apologize afterwards.

• your first date with him was at his brothers house.. where he lives.. it was pretty awkwards because 95% of the things in the house was owned by Germany. The dinner you two ate was made horribly by Prussia but you reassured him that it was alright although you did spit it out later on.. You two relaxed on the couch and lazily watched a random movie and you ended up cuddling up to him, which made him freeze up like a statue and stood still until you got up. Despite the.. strange food the date was pretty nice, Prussia is a great guy who relies on his brother sometimes but a doofus sometimes.

• On the other hand, living with him in your house does sound reasonable, he does know how to clean sometimes and helps around in the kitchen. He’s not a massive clean freak unlike someone, he lazily throws things around untill it looks neat enough for him atleast. And then gets mad when you rearrange it, he does argue about it and other stupid things, blames you and then himself. He apologizes after a while and stays quiet, so go do your thing!! And then he goes back to normal after a few hours, kissing you everywhere and complimenting you here and there.

Austria/ Roderich Edelstein

• okay what were you thinking.. he’s certinaly a good choice let me tell you that..! Once he saw you for a quick second, he was immediately head over heels for you and started thinking about you every now and then. He was constantly looking forward to seeing you again in the place he first saw you no matter what it takes, you were really beautiful that day and he just couldn’t get you out of his head, who could blame him?

• he started writing piano sheets and songs about you and gives them to you, you cant understand it half of the time but it was nice of him that he thought about you. He tends to get flustered around you when you talk about him or compliment him which is really cute. He invited you over one time so you can listen to him play piano, he was a great piano player but you mostly focused on him and his handsomeness, his gloved slender hands gently pressing down onto the piano keys that creates a soft melody.

• he’s the said clean freak, he likes keeping everything nice and squeaky clean, he’s a big perfectionist and an even bigger loverboy. He oftenly buys you flowers and small gifts, sometimes handmade by him which are half of the time messy and falling apart so you have to reassure him that it looks amazing. He doesn’t show affection most of the time but oftenly gives you a peck on the lips or on the top of your head. He’s such a clean freak to the point where you turn around for a second the whole house is clean without a scratch. Although he’s really good with his words and uses long words when speaking to you and educates you on them. He’s an avreage cook, nothing too special and just rather heats up the food.

A/N: hello, im so sorry that this took so long, im more active on my insta and doing art trades that are still open (stuckinheavenwithyou) and i have been very unmotivated, ill do the other requests when i can tho sorry!!!!

This is me rn:

[vulture-venom]

Thinking about them again.. Sighs. Stares out window.. I need to write a fic or something.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[villainsidestep]

……. 😒

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.

[malusokay]

How to Have a Love Life (from someone who actually has one)

Step 1. Set Your Standards

Because if you don’t, the universe will send you men who text “wanna hang?” at 11:52 p.m.

Know what you want, even if it’s irrational. Tall, plays piano, Catholic guilt, looks good in black. Whatever. You’re allowed.

No chemistry? No deal. A good résumé means nothing if you feel nothing. You're trying to find love, you should feel something. A spark, a shiver, or a silly smile when he texts.

He should be a bit obsessed. Not restraining order obsessed, but “sent you a poem at midnight” obsessed.

“Busy” is a myth. If he wants to, he will. If he doesn’t, he won’t. There’s no mystery.

Step 2. Prepare Yourself

Not in a “fix yourself” way. In a “become so hot and self-possessed he can’t think straight” way.

Update your social media. Post hot pics, read pretentious books, quote Sappho. Let them suffer.

Romanticise your routines. The skincare, the gym, the getting ready playlist, it’s part of the charm.

Don’t try to be chill. Be passionate, a little dramatic, slightly impossible to forget. (we hate nonchalant here.)

Have a life. Not to impress him. To survive him. Join a class, go dancing, make art. Text your friends more than you text him. You need something to come home to if it falls apart.

Step 3. How to Actually Meet Guys

Yes, unfortunately, you do have to leave the house (or at least open your DMs).

Be online strategically. The story with the books, the wine glass, the dangerous neckline? Essential.

Go places alone. Cafés, galleries, vintage bookstores. Hot people live in those.

Talk first. Say something weird. Say something dry. Say anything at all. Most guys are just relieved. He won't think you're weird, and if he does, that's useful data. You don't want someone who's scared of a girl with opinions and a personality.

Mutual friends? Ask. Being set up is underrated. Just make sure it’s not someone who still says “epic.”

Step 4. Surviving the Talking Stage

Also known as: limbo, hell, emotional roulette.

Keep texting fun. You’re not here to conduct an interview.

Match his energy, then go slightly colder. Mystery keeps the plot alive.

Don’t over-invest. He’s cute, not a life plan. Don't build an entire narrative off a playlist and three emojis.

Pull back if needed. You’re not being “too much.” You’re being someone who doesn’t beg.

Step 5. Dating 101

Congratulations. You’ve made it to the main event. Don’t panic now.

Look stunning, obviously. Even if you’re just getting coffee. Especially then.

Ask good questions. The goal is connection and psychological evaluation.

Stay unpredictable. Be kind, funny, engaging, but also allow for some silent moments. It shouldn't feel awkward.

Know when to walk away. If it’s not fun, not flirty, and not fulfilling, you can go.

Step 6. Debrief & Detox

Even CIA operatives get to talk to someone after a mission.

Tell your friends everything. Especially the ridiculous parts. Especially the unhinged texts. Your group chat is sacred.

Let them reality-check you. They love you. They see the red flags when you’re busy romanticising the beige.

Don’t skip the closure. Even if the ending was awkward or slow-fade. Name it, process it, laugh about it. Then leave it.

Step 7. If It Works Out

Not every story ends in disaster. Sometimes it actually gets good.

Stay a little delusional. You still get to romanticise it all. That’s half the fun.

Keep your identity. Don’t fold into each other like laundry. Stay weird. Keep your rituals. Be your own person with someone.

Let yourself be happy. Not suspicious. Not waiting for it to crash. Just happy. Let it feel real. You don't have to apologise for being loved. You don't have to brace for impact. allow yourself to enjoy.

Still debrief with your friends. Even in love. Especially in love. They were there before, and they’ll be there after—if it ever comes to that.

And if none of this works? Post a blurry photo in your favourite outfit, listen to Norman Fucking Rockwell, and disappear for 48 hours.

lots of love (literally) to all of you and if anyone has a question or request feel free to submit it here -> <3

also, my insta hehehe

[a-casxandra]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐎-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.

Zayne x non-mc, angst because that's all i'm good at lol

𝑺𝒚𝒑𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔 : Dating a renowned cardiac surgeon was never meant to be easy—but falling in love with a man who already has a child and a history he never quite let go of? That’s something else entirely. Caught between hospital corridors and family day events, you tries to find your place in Zayne’s world—until one mistake shatters the fragile balance, and you're forced to ask yourself the question that’s haunted you from the start: did you ever meant to belong?

Being a surgeon’s girlfriend is already difficult—but what if your boyfriend also has a child with his ex?

When you first started dating Zayne, he didn’t hide anything. He told you about her—MC—and their daughter, Aurora. You were stunned for two reasons:

One, that Zayne Li, of all people, was dating you.

And two, that he had a child out of wedlock.

Still, you told yourself you could handle it. That you would try.

But no matter how hard you tried to be close to Aurora, she would quietly slip away. No tantrums, no words—just cold avoidance. At first, you told yourself she was only six. She couldn't possibly be hostile, right?

Zayne often brought you along to see her. Said it would help. You played along. Even MC was polite, if a little…off. You told yourself it was nerves—maybe jealousy. Or maybe it was just you, trying to ignore the invisible thread that still seemed to tie her and Zayne together. The shared child. The memories. The easy familiarity.

One evening, while sitting across from Zayne at his house, you hesitated before speaking.

“Zayne… do you think we could go out next Saturday?” your voice was soft, almost reluctant.

He was just returning from work, undoing his coat and sinking into the couch with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry. I have a scheduled surgery that day.”

You nodded, then asked again, a little more hopeful, “Then… how about Sunday?”

Zayne leaned his head back and rubbed a hand down his face. “Aurora has a family day at school on Sunday. She asked me to be there... You understand, right?”

You did. You always did. But this time, something inside you pushed back.

“…But you’re always busy,” you said quietly. “If not at the hospital, you’re with them. What about me?”

“What about you?” Zayne said sharply, straightening. “That’s nonsense. We live together—you see me every day.”

And just like that, the silence cracked into an argument.

But it never lasted long. Zayne, as always, came back to you hours later—apologetic, calm, promising to make it up to you. And he meant it. He always meant it.

So here you were, at Aurora’s school on a cold winter Sunday—Family Day.

Zayne brought you along again. Said it would help. Said it mattered.

You stood on the sidelines, watching him and MC playing with Aurora.

They looked so natural together. Laughing, moving in sync, fitting into the same frame like a picture that had never been taken apart. Aurora was radiant between them. And Zayne… he looked so happy.

They looked like a perfect family.

And you?

You were the stain on the canvas. The outsider in the photograph.

You flinched slightly when you felt a small tug on your sleeve. Aurora stood beside you, looking up and pointing at a nearby ice cream truck.

You blinked, surprised. She’d never approached you before.

“You want that? Okay, let’s get you one,” you said gently, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest. Maybe… just maybe, this was a start.

But the moment shattered in an instant.

Aurora began coughing violently—ice cream falling from her hand, her little fingers clawing at her throat as she struggled to breathe.

Panic consumed you. “Aurora?”

Zayne and MC rushed over immediately. You fumbled for words, heart racing, explaining what happened—but you barely got a sentence out before MC’s face twisted in alarm.

“She’s allergic to dairy!” MC cried, snatching Aurora from your side. Her eyes were wide with fear—and something else. Accusation.

“I— I didn’t know—” you stammered, heart racing. You were shaking. You didn’t know.

“She’s six! You should’ve asked!” she snapped, voice cracking with panic. “I know Aurora doesn’t like you—but you didn’t have to do this! Was it really that bad? That you had to—” Tears welled up in her eyes as people began to gather, murmuring, whispering. Judging.

You turned to Zayne, desperate. “Zayne, I swear—I didn’t know—”

“Shut up, [Reader].”

The words hit you harder than anything else. His voice was sharp. Cold. And worse, disappointed.

Zayne never yelled. Never lost control. And now, he couldn’t even look at you.

He scooped Aurora into his arms, MC following close behind. And without another glance in your direction, they left—getting into his car and driving away.

You stood there, frozen. Surrounded by strangers with pointed eyes and low murmurs.

They didn’t know you. And yet… they were already judging.

And somehow, you didn’t blame them.

Because in that moment, as the wind bit at your skin and your heartbeat rang in your ears—

You knew the truth.

You didn’t belong here.

You never did.

Author's note : comments is very much appreciated! i like reading your comments and also, should i do a part 2? zayne's pov, maybe.

[fear-is-truth]

loser bf! RODRICK HEFFLEY hc

tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw﹒headcanons

loser bf!rodrick, who makes a huge show of pda whenever his brother is around. he’ll sling his arm around your shoulder and be like, “yeah, greg. my girlfriend. isn’t she hot?” greg is still fully convinced rodrick’s paying you to be his fake girlfriend, though he has no idea where he’s got the money.

loser bf!rodrick, who lets you sit in on band practice and tries so hard to keep it together, but the second his bandmates start flirting with you, he completely falls apart. his drumming gets so off-tempo that they have to stop and start over.

loser bf!rodrick, who lent you his algebra textbook and completely forgot he’d been doodling your name with his last name all over the margins. when you handed it back, smirking, he looked like he wanted to die.

loser bf!rodrick, whose idea of a date is a night drive to the gas station, where you both load up on slushies and hot dogs. you sit in the parking lot and steal bites off each other’s food (even though you have the same toppings)

loser bf!rodrick, who awkwardly asked his mom to use the “nice-smelling” laundry detergent on his shirts because he knows you like to steal them after having sex and he doesn’t want you thinking he’s gross.

loser bf!rodrick, whose mom acts like you’re already part of the family, offering you snacks and calling you “sweetie” every time you visit. she loves to (unintentionally) embarrassing her eldest son by showing you all of his baby pictures. all the while rodrick hides in the basement.

loser bf!rodrick, whose dad corners you during family dinners and awkwardly tries to sell you on how “rodrick is really a fine young man, despite, uh… some quirks.” you just nod politely while rodrick sits there, sinking into his chair with a beet-red face.

loser bf!rodrick, whose bandmates are constantly making moves on you, asking if you “need anything” during practice or offering to carry your stuff. rodrick will get so pissed that he threatens to kick them out of the band. you think it’s hilarious how defensive he gets.

loser bf!rodrick, who always gives you the front seat in his van, no questions asked. greg has to squish in the back with the instruments, too bad lol.

loser bf!rodrick, who pretends to be terrible at eyeliner just so you’ll do it for him. in return, he paints your nails—or you can also paint his (in exclusively black).

loser bf!rodrick, who acts reluctant whenever you drag him into photobooths at the mall. the two of you end up making the dumbest faces before you lean in and kiss him right on the mouth… with tongue.

loser bf!rodrick, who lets you doodle on his arm with a sharpie, and he refuses to wash them off. they stay there until they fade completely.

loser bf!rodrick, who finally starts wearing deodorant consistently because of you. it’s not even something you asked him to do—he just noticed you sniffing his shirts a little more critically and panicked. now, he’s always freshly applied before seeing you.

loser bf!rodrick, who gets hard every time you kiss him.

loser bf!rodrick, who tries his best to keep his room somewhat presentable whenever you come over. he knows it’s still a fucking disaster by normal standards, but for rodrick, clearing a path to the bed is a grand romantic gesture.

loser bf!rodrick, who’s obsessed so with seeing your hickeys on him. he never bothers to hide them—in fact, he wears them like badges.

loser bf!rodrick, who almost accidentally used the wrong side of the condom when you had sex for the first time.

loser bf!rodrick, who absolutely melts when you tug on his hair during sex. he didn’t even realise he had a thing for it until the first time you did it. now, he practically begs for it without using words, tilting his head back and grinning like a total idiot whenever your fingers get close.

loser bf!rodrick, who keeps every random thing you’ve ever given him — notes you’ve passed to him in class, concert tickets, even candy wrappers.

loser bf!rodrick, who hates being bossed around but will do anything you ask, especially if it involves you kissing his cheek or ruffling his hair in thanks. he’s so whipped and everyone knows it.

loser bf!rodrick, who brags to greg about how sexy and smart and pretty you are, just to rub it in, but secretly feels like he doesn’t deserve you. he gets this dumb, soft look on his face whenever you’re around, like he still can’t believe you chose him.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.