#learn to live w what you signed up for

[strivingforsanity00]

Time with you moves so slow, so quick

A pouring of love, so deep, so thick

Can it be bottled?

Any which way, please, to preserve it? How do I put some away for later?

How do I save that which must be enjoyed temporarily, seasonally? How do I savor my favorite flavor until the spice has reached its shelf date; how do I freeze the meal I waited for and will nonetheless wait for again?

I suppose some things are meant to be enjoyed fresh, and not again until you harvest in the new season.

Are all farmers filled with this anxiety through their prosperity? Do all farmers feel this blessed?

[lupinqs]

paige x reader request!! okay so reader has never dated before (she’s always focused on school and boys around her never seem to “meet up” to her standards….right lol) when she gets to college she meets p and they become really close. they end up falling for each other but reader is conflicted bc she has thought she’s been straight but looking back all the signs were there. she’s never wanted to have sex before (men are scary) but she wants to with p, she trusts her. this could be p talking reader through this realization and/or smut (p being really sweet w her bc it’s her first time yk)!! thank you!!

FIRST TIME ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: your first time is with paige

☆ ━ word count: 5.3K

☆ ━ warnings: smut with plot (honestly just p eating r out)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my gift to everyone after that hellish lottery… fuck dallas bro 😐😐 also this is not my best work this month has been fucking terrible so my bad

FOR YOU, it’s always been school. School, school, school. By seventh grade, you already knew you wanted to go into medicine. Your parents both work in the field—your mom at the hospital, your dad in his private practice. You grew up hearing their stories over dinner, listening to the ups and downs of their days, feeling that pull towards something important, something that could make a difference. The way they talked about their work, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself there, following in their footsteps.

So, you worked. Hard. From the moment you set your sights on medicine, there was no looking back. High school flew by in a steady cycle of textbooks, flashcards, volunteer shifts, and internships, each one a piece of the puzzle you were putting together. You spent weekends shadowing doctors, hours in study groups, a summer interning at the local hospital where you first learned what a real emergency room felt like. Even then, nothing could shake you from the goal you’d carved out for yourself. You’d known from the start where you wanted to end up: Yale. As a Connecticut native, it felt like a given. You saw yourself there so clearly that the idea of not getting in didn’t even occur to you.

Until it did. And when the rejection letter came, it was like the ground had fallen out beneath you. There was shock, disappointment, embarrassment. You’d done everything right—how had that not been enough? But still, UConn is a good college, and the goal is med school anyway. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter where you get your undergraduate degree, that you’ll just work even harder this time. When it comes to med school applications, there won’t be any mistakes, no missed chances. You won’t let it happen again—you will be going to Yale.

The thing is, school’s been your everything for so long that you don’t have much of a life outside of it. You had a first kiss once, an awkward moment with a boy who you never talked to again. But after that, there hasn’t been anything more. You’ve always been busy, and to be honest, there’s never been anyone who made you want to carve out time. Every relationship around you seemed like a distraction, a place for people to get hurt or get sidetracked, neither of which were part of your plan. Your friends like to tease you about it, saying your standards are too high, that no one will ever live up to the expectations you’ve set. And maybe that was true. Maybe that’s what it is. The boys just don’t meet your standards. You accept that, not caring to pay any mind to them (though they certainly paid mind to you), continuing to stay focused.

But at UConn, things start to feel different. College is strange that way—there’s structure, but there’s also space, a little more breathing room. It’s not like high school, where everyone knew what you were doing all the time, where your schedule was mapped out. Here, people let loose, go out, drink, stay up until all hours for no reason at all. You do it, too, and you realize it’s fun. But you never let it go further, never bother to get any sort of romance or even hook-ups involved in your life—because you’re still who you are. Your studies come first, always. You continuously remind yourself of that. Med school is the goal, and you work towards it every day.

Besides, you’re not even really interested in dating or anything of the sort.

That is, until you meet a certain blonde-haired basketball player.

It happens during the second semester of your freshman year, in a class you’re only taking for the credit. You barely even remember signing up for it—some easy elective with minimal workload to round out your schedule. You don’t care about the subject, don’t even plan on giving it much effort beyond the occasional assignment because you know it’ll be easy anyways. But then she walks in.

Paige Bueckers. You’ve heard the name before, of course. Everyone has. She’s the sophomore basketball phenom, the face of UConn athletics, practically a celebrity on campus. You’ve never paid her much attention—basketball isn’t really your thing—but the buzz around her is impossible to ignore. Still, when she strolls into the classroom, disheveled and running a little late, it takes you a moment to connect the dots. Her hair’s thrown into a low bun, messy strands framing her face. She’s in a gray UConn sweatsuit, the hem of her hoodie slightly frayed, her glasses sitting casually on the bridge of her nose. She scans the room, sees that the only open seat is next to you, and slides into it without hesitation.

“Hey,” she says, flashing you a quick smile before dropping her bag on the floor.

And that’s it. Nothing monumental. Just a simple greeting. But there’s something about her—her presence, the casual ease with which she takes up space—that immediately hooks your attention.

At first, you try to keep your head down. She’s just another classmate, someone you’ll probably never see again once the semester’s over. But Paige doesn’t make it easy to ignore her. She leans over to you during class, whispering comments about the lecture or the professor’s awkward hand gestures. She’s funny—unexpectedly so—and you catch yourself smiling at her jokes even when you try not to.

You notice other things, too. Like the sharp line of her jaw, the way her broad shoulders stretch the fabric of her sweatshirt, the subtle curve of muscle beneath her long sleeves. She’s not the type of traditional feminine pretty that you’d expect, not delicate or polished. No makeup, no carefully curated outfits. But there’s something about her—an almost sculptural beauty, like she’s been chiseled from marble by a particularly ambitious artist. It’s distracting. And you don’t get distracted easily.

When your friends convince you to go to your first basketball game of the season, you tell yourself it’s just for the experience. A chance to break out of your usual routine. But then you see her on the court. And suddenly, everything makes sense. Paige doesn’t just play basketball; she owns it. She’s gorgeous out there, all fire and intensity, her movements fluid and commanding. You find yourself watching her more than the game, mesmerized by the way she moves, just her presence in general.

After that, you start looking forward to class in a way you never have before. It’s not the subject, obviously. It’s Paige. The way she smiles at you when she walks in, the way she leans over to whisper something ridiculous during a particularly boring lecture. She’s the best part of your day, and you don’t even try to deny it.

When the two of you get paired up for a group project, it feels like fate. You go to her apartment to work on it, expecting the same easy banter from class, but it’s more than that. The two of you get off track almost immediately, laughing over something stupid, and before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve barely made any progress. You end up staying way later than planned, both of you scrambling to get back on task before you have to call it a night. By the time you leave, you’ve swapped numbers, and from then on, the texts come easily.

It starts with class updates, but soon it’s more. Late night conversations that have nothing to do with school, Facetimes, too. Hanging out becomes natural: grabbing frozen yogurt, wandering around campus, studying together even when you don’t need to. You talk and talk and talk, and somehow, it’s never boring. Paige has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight you usually carry around doesn’t exist when you’re with her.

One night, after one of your froyo runs, you’re sitting in her car. The frozen yogurt is long gone, but neither of you seems ready to say goodbye. The conversation slows, dipping into a comfortable silence. You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you. There’s a shift in the air, something unspoken passing between you. And then, suddenly, she’s kissing you.

You freeze. Not because you don’t want it, but because it’s so unexpected. Your brain can’t catch up with what’s happening, and for a moment, you’re completely still. Paige pulls back almost immediately, her face flushing as she stumbles through an apology. “I’m sorry—I thought—God, I must’ve read that wrong. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, shaking your head as you finally find your voice. “I didn’t mind.”

Her eyes search yours, uncertain, and then the silence settles again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean back in. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Her hand cups your jaw, warm and steady, while your fingers find their way to her arm, brushing over the solid muscle of her bicep. The center console is a nuisance, forcing you both into awkward angles, but you don’t care. It’s all soft lips and quiet breaths, a perfect mix of hunger and gentleness.

When she finally pulls away, she drives you back to your dorm, her voice soft as she says, “I had a good time tonight.”

You manage a quiet “Me too,” before slipping out of the car.

Back in your dorm, your roommate is asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still racing. You just kissed Paige Bueckers. A girl. And you liked it. More than liked it—you want to do it again.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You’ve never thought about girls like that before, never let your mind wander there. You always assumed you were straight, just too busy or too picky to find the right guy. But now, as you think about Paige, about her hands on your face, her lips against yours, it all starts to make sense. You never wanted boys. Not really. That kiss in high school with that random guy had felt wrong, awkward. The idea of being with a man had never appealed to you—except for maybe Drew Starkey, but even that felt more like a joke than anything real.

But this? The thought of Paige, of her smile, her laugh, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room—that feels real. And it’s terrifying.

Because now you know two things for sure:

You’re gay.

And you really, really like Paige Bueckers.

And it turns out that she really likes you, too.

Because that first kiss turns into another kiss. And another. And now, every time you’re alone together, it happens like clockwork.

The two of you have started hanging out in your rooms more often, the need for privacy overtaking any desire to sit in common areas or go out. Paige’s teammates joke that the two of you have become “homebodies,” but they don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how, as soon as the door closes, her lips find yours, soft and insistent, her hands framing your face as if you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever touched.

You’re not dating—at least, not officially. You haven’t talked about it, haven’t dared to address what’s happening between you. It’s easier this way, or so you tell yourself. But a part of you wonders why Paige doesn’t bring it up. Why she hasn’t said anything about what this is or what it could be. And that bothers you, even if you try to push it to the back of your mind. Then again, you’ve never done relationships, so maybe this in between is for the better—at least, for now.

Tonight, her teammates have gone to Ted’s. Paige had asked if you wanted to go, but when you wrinkled your nose and said, “Not really,” she grinned and said, “Me neither.” So, here you are, alone in her dorm room, a movie playing on the small TV mounted to the wall. Neither of you are watching it.

You’re lying on her bed, her weight hovering above you, and there’s no space, no breath between the two of you. Her lips are on yours, insistent and hungry, her body pressing against yours as if she can’t get close enough. There’s an urgency in her kiss tonight, a need that you can feel deep in your chest. You kiss her back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to anchor yourself to her.

Her hands are on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. You feel her smile against your lips at the sound and it makes you smile, too.

And, for the first time, you find yourself wanting more. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your nerves alight with a buzzing energy that you don’t fully understand but don’t want to lose. Paige seems to sense it too because her hands slide up your sides, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate lines against your skin.

Her lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down to your neck. The kisses are messy and open-mouthed, her breath hot and ragged against your skin. When her hands slip under your shirt, tracing over your stomach, you shiver.

“Can I take it off?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with want.

You hesitate for a moment before nodding, lifting your arms to help her pull the shirt over your head. It’s gone in an instant, and you’re left in just your bra. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver again, but it’s nothing compared to the way Paige looks at you.

Her eyes roam over you, but not in a way that makes you feel objectified. It’s more like she’s in awe, like she can’t believe you’re here with her, like she can’t believe she gets to see you like this. It’s overwhelming.

You look away, suddenly self-conscious. It’s nerve-wracking, you’ve never done this before, and you know that Paige has. But Paige also knows that you haven’t, which you suppose makes things easier. You feel her fingers catch your chin, gently turning your head back to face her. Her touch is so tender it nearly makes you cry.

“If you wanna stop, tell me,” she says, her blue eyes locked onto yours, her voice steady and sincere.

You shake your head, your heart pounding. “I don’t wanna stop,” you say quickly, and then, after a pause, you add, your face flushing slightly with embarrassment, “I’m just a little nervous.”

She smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her hands move to your ribs, tracing slow, soothing lines along your skin. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You don’t gotta be. I’m right here.”

Her words settle something inside you, easing the tension in your chest. You nod, and she kisses you again, her lips slow and deliberate against yours. The urgency from earlier is still there, but now it’s tempered by something softer, something deeper. You want her closer, impossibly closer.

Her hands slide up your sides once more, stopping just below your chest, and the anticipation alone makes your breath catch. When her palms finally cup your breasts through your bra, her touch is firm yet reverent, and the sensation makes you gasp against her mouth. Your breathing deepens, your chest rising and falling under her hands.

It’s instinctual, the way your hands move to her waist, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of her long-sleeve shirt. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel the subtle definition of her abs as your hands explore, your palms smoothing over her sides.

Paige groans softly into your mouth, her body pressing harder against yours as if she’s trying to fuse you together. Then she pulls away just enough to tug her long-sleeve shirt over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The moment it’s gone, she’s back, her lips finding yours again, more insistent than ever.

She’s in just her sports bra now, and you can’t help but let your fingers trail along the edges of it, brushing against the smooth fabric and the warm skin beneath. Paige shivers under your touch, and the knowledge that you’re affecting her this much makes your heart race even faster.

Then you feel her hands move behind your back, her fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. She hesitates, her lips hovering over yours as if she’s waiting for your permission.

You pull back just slightly, your lips still brushing hers as you murmur, “Take it off.”

Her eyes flicker with something intense, something almost vulnerable, as she nods. She unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your shoulders before pulling it away completely. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her gaze dropping to your bare chest. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and husky.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” she mutters, her eyes locking with yours for a heartbeat before her lips are on yours again, desperate and consuming.

Her hands return to your breasts, cupping and kneading them in a way that makes your head fall back against the pillows. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, and Paige groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.

Her mouth begins to wander, leaving your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, then lower to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your skin before she soothes the slight sting with her tongue. Each kiss feels deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you react to her touch.

She moves lower, her lips brushing along your collarbone, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. Her hands continue their slow, deliberate exploration of your chest, her thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your breath hitch.

Her lips trace the edges of your breasts, teasing and deliberate, and it’s almost too much. Your fingers tighten their hold on her sides, your nails digging slightly into her skin as you try to ground yourself.

Paige’s lips move with an unrelenting intensity, open-mouthed kisses peppered across your chest as though she’s determined to worship every inch of you. When her mouth closes over one of your nipples, the heat and pressure of her tongue send a jolt through your body, and you swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady. The sensation is new, overwhelming in the best way, and you feel a steady, growing thrum between your legs that you can’t ignore.

She doesn’t rush, her lips and tongue moving with precision, her hands anchoring you to the bed as if she doesn’t want you to float away. Her mouth trails from one breast to the other, lavishing attention in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl into the sheets.

“Paige,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, your chest rising and falling heavily as her lips continue their descent.

She hums softly against your skin, a sound that vibrates through you as her mouth moves lower. She lingers over your stomach, her lips and tongue leaving a warm, wet trail across your skin. When she sucks on a spot just below your navel, you know she’s leaving a mark, but you don’t care. The sensation is intoxicating, her gentle pressure grounding you as your thoughts scatter into nothing but her touch, her presence.

Then, her hands move to the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing just above your hips. Her fingers don’t tug or pull, just hover there, her thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. You glance down at her, heart pounding in your chest, only to find her already looking up at you.

Her eyes are soft, full of a question she hasn’t yet asked, though there’s no mistaking the want clouding her gaze. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet, careful, “Do you want me to?”

You swallow thickly, your throat dry. Do you want her to? God, yes. It’s not even a question. You don’t just want her—you think you might need her in this moment, need her to fix that ache that’s been building between your legs since she first kissed you tonight.

But it’s scary. Already, you’ve never been this exposed with anyone before, and this—this is something else entirely. A deeper kind of intimacy, one you thought you’d be ready for but now realize the weight of. Whenever you pictured what your first time might be like, you never really thought it would be too important, but now, here, with Paige above you, it feels monumental.

But who else would it be, if not her? Paige, who makes you feel safe, wanted, adored. You trust her in a way you’ve never trusted anyone. She’s kind, patient, and you like her so much it almost hurts. It only makes sense for it to be her. Even if it’s scary. Even if the thought creeps in—what if you’re not enough for her? What if you’re different from the others she’s been with, and she’s disappointed?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Paige reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours in a gentle, grounding gesture. Her eyes stay on yours, searching, concerned. She says your name, softly, once, then again. And then, “Baby…” Her voice cracks just slightly, and it tugs at something deep inside you. “Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay. We don’t gotta do anything else.”

The way she says it, so sincere and unselfish, almost undoes you. You shake your head quickly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I don’t feel pressured,” you say, and though your voice wavers, it’s honest. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continue. “Just… just keep going, please.”

She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours for a long moment, as if she’s searching for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. When she seems to find nothing but your own need and trust, she nods, her expression softening into something almost reverent.

“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips pressing a kiss to your stomach, this one gentler than the ones before, less insistent but no less meaningful. She kisses you again, and again, her hands moving slowly as her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants.

She pulls them down your legs with care, her eyes flicking back to yours to make sure it’s still okay. You nod, your heart racing but your body completely at ease with her. And as Paige tosses the sweatpants aside, her hands return to your hips, her lips never far from your skin, and you feel nothing but trust, nothing but her.

She places feather-light kisses along your inner thighs, moving slowly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Her hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles that feel both soothing and electrifying. When her lips press against the edge of your underwear, your heart races so fast it’s all you can hear.

And then, without breaking her rhythm, she tilts her head slightly and presses a soft, lingering kiss right over your clothed clit. The sensation is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver coursing through you. You take a shaky breath through your nose, swallowing hard, because she’s barely touched you, and already your body feels like it’s on fire.

When her fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unspoken question is there again, and this time, you don’t even need to think about it. “Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, nodding as your chest rises and falls a little faster.

Paige nods back, her expression soft but full of intent, and she hooks her fingers around the elastic, sliding your underwear down slowly, carefully, as if she’s unwrapping something fragile. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver, and when her gaze lowers, taking you in fully for the first time, you feel your face heat up, a mixture of anticipation and self-consciousness twisting in your chest.

Instinctively, your legs start to close, but Paige catches them gently, her hands warm and steady as she presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t hide,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. When you don’t immediately relax, she looks up at you, sincerity written all over her face. “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says, her words soft but firm, like a promise.

Her reassurance eases some of the tension, and when she presses another kiss to your thigh—this one closer to where you want her—you let your legs fall open again, trusting her. Paige doesn’t rush. She kisses along your thigh again, then again, each one inching closer to where your body feels like it’s burning.

And then she’s there, her breath warm against your clit as she places the softest kiss there. The contact has you gasping quietly, your hips shifting involuntarily. She pauses, letting her lips linger, as if testing your response. When you let out a quiet, broken sound, she pulls back just slightly, her eyes lifting to yours as if checking one last time.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You nod quickly, a whispered, “Okay,” tumbling out, though it feels like an understatement.

And then, without wasting any more time, Paige’s tongue slides along your core. That alone is enough to make your whole body flex, your stomach shuddering. Before you even get to process that foreign feeling of her tongue running up your slit, Paige presses her mouth against your clit completely, rolling her tongue right to the collection of nerves.

Her tongue alternates between soft, sweeping strokes and precise flicks that have you gasping for breath. It’s almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a moan finally escapes when her tongue moves a certain way, hitting a spot that has your whole body tightening. The sound you make is desperate, unrestrained, and your face flushes in embarrassment. But Paige doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, she doubles down, a soft moan escaping her lips, vibrating against you that sends a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through your body.

Jesus Christ, she’s good at this. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it makes you wonder how many people she’s been with, how much practice she’s had to make you feel like this. But then her tongue slips inside you, making you forget any and all of your thoughts, before it slides back out and smoothes back along your clit.

“Mmm, P,” you manage to gasp, your voice shaky and uneven. She glances up at you, her gaze meeting yours, and the sight of her—eyes dark with want, lips glistening—sends heat flooding through you. When she holds your gaze and tilts her head just slightly, her tongue hitting that same perfect spot again, your head falls back against the pillow, a breathless cry slipping out.

“Right there?” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled against you. The vibrations of her words are enough to make you tremble, and all you can do is nod, your fingers tightening in her hair as you whisper a choked, “Yeah—yes, shit.”

Paige doesn’t let up for a second, her lips and tongue working in seamless harmony to drive you closer and closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming, how good she is at this. Every flick of her tongue, every deliberate motion feels impossibly intentional, like she knows exactly what to do to unravel you piece by piece. Your thighs tense around her, hands tangling into her blonde hair as you press her closer, hips shifting instinctively to meet her movements.

Her hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as she focuses all of her attention on you. You can feel the intensity in every motion she makes—each swirl of her tongue, every press of her lips against you is filled with purpose. She’s completely locked in, as if nothing else in the world exists but you. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

The noises slipping from your lips are no longer something you can control. You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined something could feel this good. Your hips move against her instinctively, searching for more, for everything she can give you. And Paige? Paige meets you exactly where you are, matching your every movement with a rhythm that drives you absolutely wild. As your legs begin to shake, she seems to sense your need for something more, and she slides her hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and placing them over her shoulders to get ever closer to your wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher. You’re teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. Paige doesn’t stop, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her her mouth becomes more precise and focused, tongue swiping so quickly against your wetness that you can tell she’s determined to push you over. “Paige, I think I’m gonna—”

You feel her nod against you, her tongue chasing the movement, and, between her kitten-licks and sucks, she gasps, breathless herself, “I know, I know. I gotchu, ma.”

And when she dives back in, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking it, her teeth scraping against you, her head shaking with the effort, that seems to do it. Your body tenses, toes curling as you gasp her name again, louder this time. The dam finally breaks, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely that it leaves you trembling. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hand grips Paige’s hair tightly, holding her to you as your orgasm overtakes you, your pussy dripping.

Fuck.

Paige doesn’t pull away, her hands steady on your thighs as she guides you through it, her tongue slowing its movements but not stopping, easing you gently down from your peak. Your body shudders with aftershocks, and you’re left breathless, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

When Paige finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and glistening, a soft, almost smug smile on her face. She crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your hip, then your stomach, before finally reaching your lips again. Her kiss is soft, tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what just happened.

“Hey,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice gentle as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You good?”

You nod, still catching your breath, and manage to whisper, “That was… fuck, P.”

Paige grins, her fingers lightly tracing circles along your side. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice warm and affectionate. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Her words make your heart flutter, and you bury your face in her neck, a shy smile spreading across your lips. Paige wraps her arms around you, pulling you close as you both settle into the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing against you is soothing, grounding you after all of… that.

“I’m really glad it was you,” you murmur softly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her shoulder.

Paige presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice low and full of sincerity as she replies, “Me too.”

[arcadia345]

Astrology observations🪷

Birthday post🥳

Minors DNI🔞

Not a real astrologer just my observations :)

Now offering aura & synastry readings

❀ Question for Gemini/3rd house moons do y’all like sleeping anywhere else but yawls bed like your siblings room the couch over a friend‘s house you just usually don’t sleep in your bed for some reason?

❀ Venus in 10th synastry and their habit of subtly admiring eachother and their work/hobbies esp the Venus person.

❀ Saturn/cap in the 2nd likes to steal??👀 or they tend to get stolen from

❀ Aries moons mothers could’ve wanted independence from the fathers at some point in time. Independence seems to be a big theme for this moon sign.

❀ Moon/venus in 11th natals don’t be surprised if your (online)friends are deeply in love with you🤭it usually starts off as them just caring deeply about your feelings and wellbeing but it can easily turn into obsession/love

❀ Mercury and Capricorn in big 5 natal could give sexy veiny hands🥴*inserts black and white grainy filter* I wouldn’t mind a good neck squeezing from them lol

❀ Also I don’t think people realize how closely Capricorn/Saturn is to the occult, people usually just group it with the 8th house but intuitively I know esp as a cap myself that we tend to have hidden practices/practice secretly

❀ Prominent 12th/9th house placements in composite could like to drink/ do dr*gs while together. It’s like everyday a party when you two are together 😎

❀ Aries Eros composite gives summer fling vibez

❀ The best way I can explain Aries women’s energy is like a thong stuck in your 🍑 a little unsettling but yk what time it is 😏

❀ Aries/Scorpio, mercury/Saturn moon signs have their 🍒s pierced (if not then this is your signn)

❀ Neptune in 8th have sm family secrets

❀ I’m jealous of Taurus 2°14°26°/ 2nd house moons and their soft skins and juicy lips. They most likely was the child that cause the least problems they also tend to be homebodies. Their natural aroma can be intoxicating. They have a Knick for wardrobe they’re true to this not new to this🤫 even if they didn’t have a lot of money growing up they were the ones you always seen playing dress up/ meddling in someones closet/dressers. You could say they were the mothers “favorite” child because they do what their told until they don’t…then the mom may start giving Scorpio moon vibes to the child.

Learning that JHope is a Taurus moon made sm sense😭 show anyone a baby pic of him and watch them start plotting on how they’d k*dnap him💀 he just look like such a sweet child that causes 0 problems whos easily content

❀ I feel like cancer placements esp moon could be looked over a lot of times they’re just really chill energy wise most of the time but when you get to know them they’re really full of life

❀ Sag moons either live with older/elder people or they were the kid that was outside almost everyday or both!

>a peak of my Sign Lore series. Should I start w ♋️ babez first?<

❀ Sorry not sorry but I love coming for Scorpios necks e very time I post😅🤣 someone said under all that intensity and mysteriousness they’re the most basic/bubbly people you know and I agree! They’re really simple people when it comes to what they want just like their sister sign Taurus. They love to have control(or at least pretend like they have it)which is understandable when their lives have been a story of uprooting and transformation. Scorpio rising’s have Leo in the 10th(the highest point in ur chart) they’re naturally charismatic and goofy people, they easily attract attention just by being their authentic selves. Also they couldve been the child that didn’t receive the correct/ right amount of attention growing up. A lot of their problems could’ve been overlooked growing up:(. They crave the same love & loyalty that they give out. As u know the sun scorches anything that comes near it just like Scorpios they’re intensity can drive people away most times so it gets lonely at the top yk?

That’s it for now 🌀🩵🌺🌀

[ellecdc]

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : LITTLE MUTANT: :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: You are spending a peaceful afternoon with your four-year-old son, Tommy. While playing, you notice his toy plane suddenly floating in the air, revealing the first signs of his mutant abilities. Startled, you call Logan, who rushes back home. Together, you both watch as Tommy uses telekinesis to stack his building blocks, completely unaware of the gravity of what he's doing. Logan reassures you that, just like him, Tommy will learn to control his powers, and you both find comfort in knowing you'll handle it as a family.

Based on this request.

IT WAS A QUIET SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT THE HOWLETT HOUSEHOLD, the kind of peaceful day that felt like a rare gem. Birds chirped outside the open window, sunlight streamed into the living room, and the air smelled of fresh laundry. The idyllic scene was only made more perfect by the sight of you and your four-year-old son, Tommy, curled up on the sofa together.

Tommy sat in your lap, giggling as you tickled his belly, his small fingers clutching a toy airplane. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes, the ones he’d inherited from his father, Logan. That same scruffy intensity, but softened by the innocence of a child.

"Mommy, fly!" Tommy exclaimed, holding the plane above his head and wiggling it through the air. "Look! I'm a pilot!"

"You sure are, sweetie," you said, grinning. "You're the best pilot I've ever seen. Where are you flying today, Captain Tommy?"

He squinted, thinking seriously about it for a moment. "To the moon! And then... and then to the jungle to find the lions!" His arms wobbled as he made dramatic sound effects, roaring for the lions.

"The moon and the jungle? Busy day!" You played along, tousling his messy hair. He was so full of energy and imagination that it felt like every day with him was an adventure.

Just as you leaned down to kiss his forehead, you noticed something odd. The plane in his hand seemed to... well, it seemed to be shaking.

No, not shaking. Floating. It was barely perceptible, but it was definitely hovering, just a few inches above his hand.

You blinked, rubbing your eyes, thinking maybe you were just tired. Four years of motherhood didn’t exactly do wonders for your sleep schedule. But when you looked again, the plane was still floating, a soft blue glow surrounding it like it was suspended by some invisible force.

"Uh, Tommy?" you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "How are you doing that, honey?"

Tommy, completely oblivious to the phenomenon, just giggled and shook the plane in the air again. "Doing what, Mommy?"

You felt your heart skip a beat. Oh boy. Logan was going to want to see this.

You carefully placed Tommy on the sofa and reached for your phone. Logan had gone out for one of his "I need some space to clear my head" walks in the woods behind the house, but it looked like he was about to get pulled back into dad duty.

You quickly dialed his number. It only took one ring before his gravelly voice answered, laced with that familiar grumpiness.

“Yeah honey?”

“Logan, you need to get back here. Now.”

There was a brief pause. “Why? What’s wrong? Is Tommy okay?”

“He’s... fine. Sort of. Just... hurry. I think something’s happening.”

“Be there in five.” You heard the rustle of leaves and the faint sound of him running before he hung up. Classic Logan. Always ready to bolt into action the second his family needed him.

You turned back to Tommy, who had abandoned his floating toy plane in favor of drawing on the wall with a crayon. Normally, that would’ve driven you crazy, but given the circumstances, a little crayon art felt like the least of your worries.

~

True to his word, Logan burst through the front door exactly five minutes later, his rugged frame filling the entryway. His flannel shirt was half unbuttoned, exposing his muscular chest, and his hair was as wild as ever. He looked like he’d sprinted the entire way back.

“Okay,” he grumbled, striding into the living room. “What’s going on?”

You pointed toward Tommy, who was now sitting on the floor, happily stacking his building blocks... without touching them. The blocks were arranging themselves in mid-air, each one glowing faintly, as if magnetically drawn into place.

“Logan...” you whispered, your eyes wide. “Our son is a mutant.”

Logan’s brow furrowed as he knelt down to Tommy’s level, watching intently. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just observing the floating blocks. Then, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. “He’s got it.”

You knelt beside Logan, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Do you think... do you think he knows what he’s doing?”

Tommy, blissfully unaware of the significance of his new abilities, just grinned up at the both of you. "Daddy, look! I'm a magician!"

Logan’s gruff expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, buddy. Looks like you are.”

You leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of Logan’s body next to yours as you whispered, “What do we do?”

Logan huffed a small laugh and shrugged, his usual stoicism breaking just a little. “Hell if I know. You think there’s a manual for this? He’s a kid. He’s got a mutation. We’ll figure it out.”

“But... what if he can’t control it? What if it gets worse?”

Logan glanced at you, his expression serious now, but not without comfort. “He’s our kid. We’re not gonna let him go through this alone. We’ll teach him, just like I was taught.”

You nodded, feeling the tension in your chest ease slightly. If anyone could handle this, it was Logan. He’d been through enough in his own life to know what it was like to have powers he couldn’t control. And now, with Tommy showing signs of being a mutant, it felt like you were entering uncharted territory as parents.

Tommy, meanwhile, was completely absorbed in his floating blocks, giggling as they danced in the air. “Look, Mommy! I’m making a tower!”

“That’s... a very nice tower, sweetie,” you said, forcing a smile as you watched the blocks stack themselves higher and higher.

Logan chuckled softly and ruffled Tommy’s hair, his gruff exterior melting just a little more. “Hey, kiddo, maybe we should keep the floating stuff between us for now, huh? Don’t want to freak out the other kids at daycare.”

Tommy looked up at Logan with wide eyes, as if he was processing the most important secret of his life. He nodded seriously. “Okay, Daddy. I won’t tell. It’s our secret.”

Logan shot you a look, raising his eyebrow as if to say, *See? Easy.* You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully.

“So, what now, oh wise and experienced mutant dad?” you teased, leaning your head against Logan’s shoulder.

He smirked, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Now? We teach him how to use those powers right. And maybe... we start bolting down the furniture.”

You laughed, feeling the tension finally break as Logan kissed the top of your head. It wasn’t exactly the parenting journey you’d imagined, but with Logan by your side, you knew you could handle anything. Even a four-year-old with telekinesis.

Tommy, now bored of his floating tower, climbed into Logan’s lap, resting his head on his father’s chest. “Daddy, can we play with the lions tomorrow?”

Logan smiled softly, stroking Tommy’s hair. “Yeah, buddy. We’ll play with the lions. But remember... no floating lions.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Tommy murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as he dozed off.

As you watched your little boy fall asleep in Logan’s arms, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of love for both of them. Your life might not have been normal by any stretch, but it was yours. And honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Guess we’ve got our hands full,” you whispered, resting your hand on Tommy’s small back.

Logan glanced down at you, that familiar glint of affection in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, darlin’.”

And as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over your family, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe parenting a little mutant wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @shybluebirdninja @boomveronika @wolviesgirl @slowlikehoneyyyy @lanabobana @corvusmorte @seamlessepiphany

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know!!

[etclouie]

home

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 summary: he doesn’t do houses, not after living in the woods for so long, but when he sees his girlfriend in their home in one of his shirts he learns to like home. (Daryl Dixon x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 setting: alexandria era before the saviours 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 warnings: suggestive but no smut, wearing daryls shirt, no specific body descriptions, small mention of teasing(not really), pictures for aesthetics only, lmk if i missed any

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 word count: 656

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 a/n: something about life w/ him 

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 twd masterlist | main masterlist

after being on the road for awhile, alexandria seemed skeptical to most of the group at first, especially Daryl. it took a lot to gain Daryl’s trust, you knew that first hand. 

you and Daryl had gotten closer when the group moved into the prison, and eventually started dating before the governor’s attacks. 

his lack of trust deepened after terminus, and his fear of losing you had gone through the roof. so any signs of change and something new had a fear bubbling inside of him, especially when it involved you or any chance of losing you. 

originally when the group got to alexandria, they were given two houses, but over the span of your stay, a third house was gifted and the group had decided on giving it to you and Daryl. 

with the new found personal space, you had managed to coax Daryl into the house, instead of sitting on the porch smoking. easing down his walls, while taking care of him. 

cooking him a hot meal every night he was home, and simply enjoying having him to yourself. he was still on edge, and was always looking to protect you, but with no threat he grew comfortable in your new space together. 

finally having Daryl fully comfortable in your home, and his job for Alexandria keeping him close by and home every night, you took the opportunity to tease him. 

checking the time and smiling to yourself as the clock ticked closer to the time he arrived home every day without fail, standing at the stovetop making him dinner, one of his new favourite meals since moving to Alexandria. 

the sound of the front door pushing open had your smile widening, glancing in the direction of your boyfriend and watching him kick off his boots. the soft padding of his socked feet coming closer and a grunt leaving him as his eyes finally landed on you, wearing only one of his shirts. 

the soft and heavily worn material masking your body, the scent of him mixed with the soft scent of the washing detergent flooded his senses as he moved closer to you. hands sliding under the hem of the shirt to rest on your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles over the material of your panties. 

“think yer funny? wearing my shirt ‘nd nothin’ else?”

his voice was gruff, his big hands pulling you closer against him and his lips pressing kisses across your jaw. wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself, causing his shirt to rise up revealing more of your body to his gaze. his kisses growing bruising, and marks forming across your skin from where he sucked and nipped at the skin. 

“Daryl, the food” 

you had managed to muster out, trying to untangle yourself from his arms to tend to the food you started to make, only for him to pull you back against his chest. his lips meeting yours in a desperate kiss, his right hand leaving your hip to fumble with the stove knobs and turning it off. 

“fuck the food, want ya”

he grit out against your lips, his hand making its way back to your body and groping at your ass cause a gasp to push past your lips. 

clinging to him as he walked you backwards and towards the stairs, lips moving across your neck and throat before reluctantly pulling away to grumble out again. 

“want ta teach ya not to do this dumb shit, teasin’ me for no damn reason”

his hand lifting from your ass to slap at it, turning to make your way upstairs and feeling his gaze on your body as he followed. 

his intentions for the night were clear, and you knew what you you were in for, happily obliging to his plans for you. 

so, maybe he did like having a house with you, a place to call home and to have his fun with you. 

requests are open here !

[lizzy06]

Shouta Aizawa Fics Recs!!(Tumblr/Ao3/Wattpad)

My Hero Academia Fic Rec Masterlist

Shouta Aizawa x Reader

FIVE TIMES ✨by @damnzawa (oneshot, fluff) In which the faculty at U.A. — ehem Present Mic and Midnight — and 1-A tried to get the two of them together, only to find out they were together all along.

How Convenient by mighty-mighty-man (Pair_Up)(oneshot, humor(?))The night shift at the convenience store was going so well. You got to hear some good tunes, you made a sale, you made conversation with a handsome hero. But then a robber shows up. [COMPLETED]

Lazy Egg ✨✨by mighty-mighty-man (Pair_Up) (slice of life, fluff)You work at an animal shelter.When Aizawa Shouta adopts your favorite cat, your lives become inexplicably intertwined. And strangely enough, it all seems to be for the better.[COMPLETED]

“did he steal two babies?”✨ by @bakugohoex (oneshot, fluff)in which you’re aizawa’s secret wife, aizawa gets a call in the middle of class that you’re going into labor and eventually leaves, the class being noisy pricks follows him to a hospital, feeling worried they continue to follow until they see him holding two babies with a smile at his new family. [COMPLETED]

Victory by @bnhascribbles (oneshot, fluff) Just a fluffy story about you and your husband. [COMPLETED]

Chocolate hearts✨ by LetheSomething  (fluff, sloeburn, angst, serial killers)A group of villains calling themselves the Valentine Killers are going around murdering people.Their target? Pro hero loved ones. Aizawa Shouta is utterly convinced he has nothing to worry about. He's wrong. [COMPLETED]

Stray Cats. Aizawa Shouta x fem!reader ✨by http_vanished (kinda enemies to lovers , fluff, angst)A man under the alias ‘Eraserhead’ is your favourite author of all timeAs part of your bucket list, you write him a letter expressing your admiration. Never in a thousand years did you expect a rely, inviting you over for dinner to meet him, all-expense paid for. However things don’t go exactly as you planned as the man you idolised for years turns out to be grumpy, scruffy man with an appalling attitude.[COMPLETED]

Lucky Cat ✨by kalpa (oneshot, fluff, humor, slice of life, smut)You're utterly convinced your quirk is having shit luck and attracting trouble everywhere you go. Thankfully, a certain underground hero is always there to save the day.[COMPLETED]

Hurting Together by  @dira333 /Fogfire(oneshot, sorta humor(?))You meet in the waiting room of a Clinic, but opening up about your respective illnesses isn't as easy as you might have thought. Or how Aizawa makes an ass of himself because he tries to flirt on painkillers.[COMPLETED]

Caught in Love by @mooncademia (oneshot, fluff, kinda secret relationship)After getting a job offer at U.A, your love life w/ Aizawa has officially transferred to school. And you loved it.

The Cat and the Key (Aizawa x Reader) by EVoDanger (oneshot, fluff, slowburn)The most wanted woman in town has announced that she'll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat's neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail. The cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them.[COMPLETED]

suffer the signs ✨by advantagetexas (oneshot, hanahaki au, angst with happy ending)You begin coughing up petals soon after beginning work as the new UA nurse. You know what they are, you know why they're afflicting you, but you refuse to let them control you.[COMPLETED]

Quirk Smirk by Meldy_Writes (fluff, humor)Quirkless Female Reader moves to Musutafu to reconnect with her estranged sister, Inko, and her newfound nephew, Izuku. everything is going fine until she learns that her kind-of-attractive-kind-of-a-dick neighbor is a pro-hero… and also her nephew's homeroom teacher.[COMPLETED]

But they're soft... by coffee_dessert (fluff, humor)When a black cat is found unconscious in the pouring rain, what's a good samaritan to do? In which the reader takes care of Aizawa after he's been affected by a transformation Quirk.[COMPLETED]

What a Cliché by kingyohna (flowershop au, fluff, slowburn, mutual pinning)Aizawa doesn't know much about pop culture, but he knows it's a definite cliché to fall for someone working in a flower shop.[COMPLETED]

Together, Always. by kalpa (oneshot, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst)Ever since you were young, you've done what's expected of you. But after a chance meeting with a hero and after saving two cats, you begin to wonder just what you truly want out of life.[COMPLETED]

Fill my little world (right up) by tsumoo  (single parent aizawa, nanny! reader, fluff, family feels)you are employed by aizawa shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter eri while he’s at work. as time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.[COMPLETED]

Breathless by Mishme(oneshot, fluff, hurt/comfort) In which you experience the different types of kisses from the pro hero, Eraserhead.[COMPLETED]

Chocolate Milk by MariaTheBrave(oneshot, fluff)“Mr. Aizawa,” Mina broke from the others and made a beeline to her teacher, “why didn’t you tell us you have a kid?!”[COMPLETED]

The Reaper (Aizawa x female reader) by Emltar (fluff, smut, enemies to lovers, trauma)You're a teacher at UA with a tragic past trying to keep some semblance of peace in your shattered life. Can a grumpy caterpillar break through your defenses or will you lose yourself completely?[COMPLETED]

Newfound by mysoftestecho (strangers to friends to lovers, smut, fluff)You move to a new town to start teaching at UA. It's a new life for you and you're excited to see what it brings.[COMPLETED]

Home is where you are by speia(oneshot, fluff, comfort)Just a casual Valentine's Day[COMPLETED]

Puzzle Pieces ✨by iimber(fluff, angst, mutual pinning, stalker)Years of piecing together your life to the point were it's near perfect come crashing down when you gain an extremely dedicated stalker. After coming to a head, you leave your life in Tokyo to seek safety back in Musutafu. [ONGOING<idk could be discontinued too😭>]

Shouta Aizawa x Emi Fukukado(Ms. Joke)

But I remember you✨✨ by JackieMoonshine (oneshot, fluff, humor)A fun EraserJoke one-shot that struggles with whether it wants to be a comedy or drama. Either way, I like it.[COMPLETED]

A Happy Family with Never-Ending Laughter ✨by Yojimbra (domestic fluff, humor, smut)In order to raise Eri properly, Eraserhead seeks help from the one person he can trust. Ms. Joke.Eri is so screwed.[COMPLETED]

Nature, Nurture, and Chocolate Milk  by  Nuclear_Equipped_ Walking _ Battle_Tank (oneshot, fluff, humor, izuku and shinsou are brothers)The Aizawa family goes shopping . An appropriate amount of tomfoolery ensues. [COMPLETED]

this sudden burst of sunlight, and me with my umbrella  by  lettersfromnowhere (fluff, angst, family feels)the one where Eri gets a mom, Aizawa gets a headache, Emi adopts half of UA, and laughter really is the best medicine.[COMPLETED]

he hadn't the time by ohmytheon (oneshot, friends to lovers, bad at feelings)Over the ten years that Shota has known Emi Fukukado, she has been far too loud, bubbly, bright, and positive for his taste. She's probably one of the most annoying people he knows. She is also an extremely capable hero and an excellent teacher. There has to be a reason that their paths keep meeting and it has to be more than just to drive him crazy.[COMPLETED] he took the time by ohmytheon (oneshot, smut, fluff)If Emi keeps joking about Shouta taking her home, one of these nights he's going to take her up on that offer. Turns out, it's not a joke at all, not one bit.[COMPLETED]

Bursting with Laughter, Blooming in Flowers✨ by dracula420 (hanahaki au, angst with happy ending, fluff)Emi Fukukado loves jokes. She’s got a million of ‘em. You ever heard the one about the girl that repressed her unrequited love until it turned into a disease? That ones a classic.[COMPLETED]

The Last Laugh ✨✨by FeralPen (friends to lovers, temp. unrequited love, fluff, light angst) Emi Fukukado had two goals in life: become the hero who makes everyone smile, and crack Eraserhead's shell to make him laugh. Getting a date along the way would just be a bonus.[COMPLETED]

Sands and eyelashes by Iamanormalperson(misunderstanding, pinning) Eraserhead and Ms. Jokes had taken down a villain. That's it, but the others saw something else.[COMPLETED]

Inside Joke by Huinari  (oneshot, fluff)Five times Ms. Joke asked Eraserhead to marry her, and one time she didn’t.[COMPLETED]

Subtle Like a Lion’s Cage by aactionjohnny(fluff, mutual pinning, hurt/comfort)Ketsubutsu is under construction, so the students are staying at UA. Unfortunately for Aizawa, that also means Ms. Joke will be around.[COMPLETED]

Never Again (but maybe I'll give you a chance) by SplashingInPonds (oneshot, feels)After a disastrous mess of emotions and a big joke at his expense in high school, Shouta Aizawa decided that he was never going to let himself feel that way again. That is until he meets a persistent woman with sea green hair that seems to actually hold something genuine underneath her overly jovial hero persona.[COMPLETED]

I’m Ms. Joke: Ask Me Anything! by dracula420(oneshot, humor) Aizawa lurks the internet and finds a rather interesting topic on a very famous forum site.[COMPLETED]

make your move by velvari (smut)Mr. Aizawa finally makes a move on Ms. Joke.[COMPLETED]

Drinking Makes the Truth Come Out by The_Sensei_Simp (oneshot, jealousy, fluff) Two years after the war, the Pro-Hero teachers of U.A. High School go out for drinks to celebrate their summer vacation, since they had not in a while. What happens when Shouta Aizawa runs into Ms. Joke the Smile Hero AKA Emi Fukakado, who catches his attention when a coworker of hers is too friendly with her and it makes him jealous?[COMPLETED]

[joelsrose]

Valentine’s Day

fluff!!

i think i might make a little mini-series of cute fluff one shots of reader travelling w/ Joel - same vibe as polaroids

The road stretched endlessly ahead, an unbroken ribbon of cracked asphalt and brittle grass edging the silence between you and Joel. Time had lost its edges, slipping by in indistinguishable layers—sunrise and sunset melting into a quiet, unending rhythm. You both found small ways to measure the days, counting by the frost thickening in the mornings or the way your breath lingered longer in the air.

He’d been quiet that morning, gaze fixed on the horizon, shoulders curled inward in a way you’d come to recognize—a silent signal of his retreat into himself. Only when he finally spoke, his voice roughened by the cold, did you catch a faint trace of what lay beneath.

“Mid-February,” he muttered, the words barely a whisper, his eyes distant, unfocused, as though he were seeing beyond the leafless trees and frost-bitten fields, someplace far beyond reach.

The realization settled quietly within you, a subtle truth he likely hadn’t even noticed you told yourself—that today wasn’t just any other day.

Valentine's Day.

Just another day, you told yourself. And yet, as you looked over at Joel, his face softened by the pale winter light, the weight of what once was—of love, of yearning, of lives that once had space for days like this—felt as tangible as the frost clinging to the earth.

Days like this should have been trivial, stripped of meaning in the world you were barely holding onto now. And yet, as the realization settled—Valentine’s Day, here, with Joel—an ember of something unspoken flickered in the thick silence between you.

It was ridiculous, pointless even, to care about a day that belonged to a life long gone. But somehow, it mattered.

Joel hadn’t missed the thought either—not that he’d ever let on. But something shifted, a fleeting spark in his gaze, a quick, sidelong glance that brushed over you before he retreated behind the rough, impenetrable armor he wore so well. You hadn’t known him in those days, back when he was a different man, softer around the edges, before the world had carved out the unyielding hardness he carried now.

Once, he’d been the type for quiet gestures, his version of romance wrapped in a humble simplicity—a bouquet picked up on the way home from work, a meal at a place that felt like a splurge, maybe even a soft tune played on his guitar, chords strummed slow and low, just for someone he loved.

That version of Joel was a memory now, a part of him buried under years of survival. But here, in that brief, unguarded look, you glimpsed a shadow of who he’d once been, a reminder of the life he’d lost but hadn’t entirely forgotten.

But that part of him was buried now, hidden beneath layers of loss in a world that left no room for tenderness.

Still, in the quiet moments between you, there was a glimmer—a barely-there echo of the man he might have been, of a Valentine’s Day he hadn’t entirely let go. It was a trace, a faint whisper of something unforgotten, lingering in the way his gaze softened just a fraction when it met yours, a warmth hidden in the spaces where words failed.

In those rare silences, you felt it—a fragile remnant of a man who, once upon a time, might have known how to love gently.

~~~

You were passing through another nameless place, its ghostly streets and faded signs blending into the countless towns you’d left behind. The road stretched ahead, winding into the dense sprawl of forest, the trees casting shadows that grew longer as the sun dipped low on the horizon.

You walked a few paces ahead of Joel, each step sending a dull ache through your feet, the exhaustion settling into your bones as the sky blazed in hues of deep orange and soft pink—a sunset bleeding into dusk. The silence between you was familiar now, a quiet rhythm you’d both learned to live in, broken only by the steady crunch of your boots on loose gravel and the faint, reassuring echo of Joel’s footsteps behind you.

“We’ll camp here tonight,” he murmured, his voice low, carrying a quiet certainty as he surveyed the encroaching darkness and the shadows stretching long beneath the trees. There was a practiced ease in the way he assessed the fading light, an instinct honed by years on the road, as if he could read the landscape’s secrets in a single glance.

“Okay,” you replied, nodding without hesitation. You trusted Joel’s instincts implicitly, each decision sharpened by years of survival and weighed with a quiet precision. There was a steady comfort in following his lead, in the silent assurance that, whatever lay ahead, he would be the one standing between you and the darkness.

It was more than trust—it was a fragile kind of faith, the certainty that he’d weather the night so you didn’t have to face it alone.

You’d set up camp, sinking down against a rough, weathered log, the bark pressing into your back as you released a tired sigh. Joel muttered something about gathering firewood, his voice a low murmur that blended with the evening quiet as he scanned the tree line.

You watched him disappear into the dimming light, his silhouette broad and unyielding against the last slivers of sunset. It was a rhythm you’d come to rely on—his quiet, unwavering sense of duty, always ensuring you had warmth and protection.

Joel wandered, his steps slower than usual, his thoughts snagging on the way your eyes had brightened when he’d offhandedly mentioned the date. He hadn’t intended for it to mean anything—just a passing remark—but there was something about the look you’d given him, unexpected and strangely soft, that lingered.

It unsettled him—a quiet reminder of feelings he’d thought long buried. And yet, here they were, surfacing more persistently since he’d met you, weaving through his thoughts like a memory he couldn’t quite shake.

He’d been gathering firewood, but his attention drifted, his gaze settling on a small patch of wildflowers nestled in the underbrush. Soft purple petals, delicate against the rugged landscape, caught his eye. Before he even realized what he was doing, he reached down, fingers brushing the blooms as he plucked a few. His hands moved on instinct, guided by something quiet and unguarded, a small gesture he hadn’t intended yet couldn’t resist.

With the flowers clutched in his hand, he froze.

What the hell was he doing?

Joel stood there, caught in the deepening shadows, his grip tightening around the fragile stems as he began to pace, second-guessing himself in a way that felt almost absurd. He wasn’t the kind of man who picked flowers—not anymore, not for a long time.

But somehow, being around you had pulled him into unfamiliar territory, unearthing pieces of himself he’d long thought buried. You brought out a quiet tenderness in him, nudging him toward gestures that went beyond mere survival—small acts he tried to brush off as routine but that hinted at a fondness he fought to suppress.

After absentmindedly picking flowers for you, it became glaringly obvious to Joel that he cared for you—deeper than an acquaintance, a friend, or even a fellow traveler on this harsh road. It showed in the way he’d insist on carrying your pack, ignoring the twinge in his back with a muttered, “Not a big deal,” brushing off your concern like it was nothing. He’d save you half of whatever he was eating, passing it over with a quiet, “Thought you’d want some.” He’d keep an extra eye out for little things he knew you’d like—an old book salvaged from a wrecked house, or a stray packet of coffee he’d hand you with a gruff, “Found it along the way.” And on those rare, bone-tired nights by the fire, he’d sit just a bit closer than he had to, his shoulder brushing yours, grounding you both in a warmth neither of you dared to name. All small gestures he hadn’t made for anyone in years.

~~~

Back at camp, a quiet worry began to take hold as your gaze lingered on the darkening treeline. He’d been gone longer than usual, and with each passing moment, the shadows grew, stretching across the ground as the forest settled into an uneasy silence, the last traces of daylight fading away. It was in moments like these that the weight of how much you relied on him settled over you—how your survival had come to depend on his presence, his strength. You tried not to let those thoughts creep in, but sometimes, they slipped past your defenses: how would you survive without Joel?

Just as you were on the verge of getting up to search for him, he appeared from the shadows, his figure solidifying against the dim glow of twilight. His gaze held a quiet intensity, a flicker of something unspoken as he drew closer, and you felt the tension in your chest unravel, replaced by a warmth you couldn’t quite name. A breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding slipped out as you rose to meet him, a silent relief settling over you at the simple fact of his return.

“Where were you?” you asked, the worry threading through your voice despite your attempt to keep it steady. That soft edge, the unmistakable concern in your tone, stirred something deep within him—something he had realized was still there, something that felt both foreign and achingly familiar, tugging at a part of himself he thought had long since withered away.

"Just… looking for firewood," he muttered, his gaze dropping to the rough bundle in his arms as he scratched the back of his neck, almost sheepishly. You nodded, though a faint trace of doubt lingered; something told you he hadn’t just been out collecting wood. But it didn’t matter now—he was here, and the sharp edge of your worry softened, melting into a quiet reassurance only his presence could bring. The weight that had settled in your chest eased, leaving you with a sense of calm that had become rare in times like these.

You stepped closer, reaching out to take some of the firewood from his arms, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment. “Next time, don’t take so long,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with a quiet intensity. “You scared me.”

He mumbled, “’M sorry,” his gaze flickering away, yet you caught a hint of something deeper in his expression—a question he wouldn’t voice, a wondering if this—whatever it was between you—meant as much to you as it was beginning to mean to him.

Unbeknownst to you, he’d slipped the flowers deep into his pocket, his fingers brushing over the delicate petals every so often, as though they were something precious and fragile he wasn’t quite ready to let go of. He kept them hidden, a quiet secret pressed against his palm, a small piece of softness he wasn’t yet ready to share.

~~~

Later, as you lay wrapped in your sleeping bag, the world around you wrapped in darkness and silence, you turned toward Joel. He lay on his back, eyes fixed on the night sky, his familiar steady presence somehow softened, quieter. There was something different about him tonight, a quietness that felt deeper, as if he were lost in thoughts he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—share.

“You okay?” you murmured, your voice barely breaking the stillness around you. He turned his head slightly, his gaze finding yours in the dim light, and for a moment, his usual guarded expression softened. There was a warmth there, something almost vulnerable flickering in his eyes, before he gave a small nod.

“Yeah,” he replied softly, though his voice wavered, something unreadable passing over his face. “It’s February… mid-February,” he added, as if stating a simple fact, his gaze distant.

You nodded, watching him carefully. “You mentioned that this morning,” you said, curiosity tugging at your tone as you tried to read his expression, wondering where he was going with this.

“I, uh… I found somethin you might like’.” His hand shifted, reaching into his pocket, and he pulled out a small, crumpled handful of purple wildflowers. They were a little wilted, their petals slightly crushed from being tucked away, but there was a tender, almost shy quality to the gesture that caught your breath. The sight of those fragile blooms, offered with a rough gentleness, made your heart stumble.

“Joel… what’s all this?” you murmured, sitting up onto your elbows, your eyes wide with surprise and a warmth you didn’t dare put a name to.

He looked away, a faint flush creeping onto his face as he mumbled, “Figured, since it’s around Valentine’s Day and all… I know it ain’t much. Couldn’t exactly get you fancy chocolates or flowers from a stord.” His voice softened, almost unsure, as he extended the fragile blooms toward you. “Sorry you gotta spend the day with me… not sure if you were ever into all this stuff,” he added, his gaze lingering on the ground, as if afraid to meet your eyes.

A quiet warmth bloomed in your chest as you looked down at the flowers resting in his calloused hand. In this harsh, broken world, they were the most beautiful thing you’d seen—not for what they were, but for everything they meant. It almost hurt to hear Joel think you’d rather be with someone else, as if he couldn’t see how much his presence alone meant to you.

He’d thought of you, gone out of his way to bring a touch of softness into a life that seldom allowed for it. “This is perfect.” You hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment before adding, “There’s no one else I’d rather spend it with.” Your words were quiet, but the smile that softened your features spoke volumes as you accepted the flowers from his hands. “Thank you, Joel.”

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you leaned over and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his cheek. It was a simple gesture, tender and brief, but it left him stunned, his breath catching. The cover of night shielded the warmth rising to his face, but in the quiet that followed, he found himself grateful for the darkness—grateful, too, for you.

He cleared his throat, searching for the right words. “It’s, uh… it’s nothin’,” he mumbled, voice rougher than usual, though it couldn’t quite mask the tremor underneath. “Just… don’t go gettin’ used to this kinda thing, alright?”

But despite the gruffness in his tone, his gaze softened as he looked at you, a warmth there that he couldn’t quite hide. You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you snuggled back into your sleeping bag. “Alright, grumpy pants,” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Good night.”

He huffed, a sound of faint indignation, though you didn’t miss the flicker of a smirk just before he turned away, muttering, “Yeah, yeah. G’night.”

As you drifted off, the faint scent of wildflowers lingered in the cool night air, wrapping around you both in a gentle reminder of the moment you’d just shared. Neither of you spoke, but in that quiet exchange, something settled—a fragile, unspoken connection that made the night feel a little softer, a little less lonely.

It was a small thing, delicate and unassuming, but it was there, woven into the silence.

Maybe later, you’d press those wildflowers between the pages of one of the books Joel had scavenged for you, preserving them as a quiet promise that would last long after the petals had faded.

[natsaffection]

I have a platonic, non smut request if you’re down! Nat x fem!reader, they’re a couple and live in a neighborhood w a girl who’s young (5 or smth) . The girl is sweet and has lemonade stands in front of her house n stuff so that’s how nat and reader interact w her. One day, the girl runs to nat and reader’s house, banging on the door begging to be let in because her mom’s boyfriend beat her up or was threatening to. Nat and reader let her in immediately and go into protection mode, even when the bf starts spitting lies, blaming the girl.

This was inspired by a video I saw where a neighbor was protecting a girl and thought it would work perfectly w nat given her own red room history n stuff. I feel like she would tolerate no BS. I know this is very different from what u normally write so I hope it’s ok 🫶

Through Darkness | N.R

Warnings: Domestic Violants, Threatening to hurt a child, mentioned of Bruises, Happy end!!

Word count: 5,4k

A/n: That was the sweetest thing I've ever written. But I needed help, so I watched We Bought a Zoo with Scarlett while I was writing.🫂

Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water. Her sharp eyes watched you as you bustled around the kitchen, preparing dinner. The scent of fresh basil and tomatoes filled the room, making the house feel even more like a home. It had been a few months since they moved into this quiet neighborhood. After everything Natasha had been through, the chaos and destruction, the idea of a peaceful life seemed foreign to her. But here, with you by her side, she began to understand what peace could feel like.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” you said, looking up from the pot you were stirring. Your smile was one Natasha had grown fond of. Warm, welcoming, and full of love. It was a smile that made Natasha’s heart ache with how much you meant to her. She smiled back, setting down her glass and moving to stand next to you. “It smells fantastic. You always manage to make something special out of so little.”

You chuckled softly. “Years of practice. Plus, I had to learn to keep up with you.” Before Natasha could respond, a high-pitched voice outside caught her attention. “Lemonade! Fresh lemonade! Only fifty cents a cup!”

Both of you turned to the window that overlooked the front yard. There, on the sidewalk across the street, stood a little girl, no older than five. Her brown curls bounced as she enthusiastically waved a homemade sign. Next to her was a small table with a pitcher of lemonade and a few paper cups. You smiled affectionately. “She’s out there almost every day. Have you seen her?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed her a few times. Sweet kid.”

“Let’s go say hello.” you suggested, already wiping your hands on a dish towel. “And maybe grab some lemonade.” Natasha hesitated for a moment, but the gentle encouragement in your eyes was enough. “Alright.” she agreed with a smile.

Together, you left the house and crossed the street. The little girl’s face lit up as she saw you approaching. “Hi!” she called out cheerfully, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “Do you want some lemonade?” You knelt down to her level, your smile gentle. “We’d love some. What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m Lily!” the girl said proudly, carefully pouring lemonade into two cups. Natasha handed her a dollar bill. “Keep the change, Lily.” Her eyes widened, and she beamed at Natasha. “Thank you! My mom says it’s important to save money, and I want to buy a new doll.”

“That’s a great goal.” you said, taking a cup from Lily. “I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha. We live right across the street.”

“Are you married?” Lily asked innocently, and her question caught Natasha off guard. You laughed softly and glanced at Natasha. “Not yet, but maybe one day.” Natasha felt a warmth spread through her chest at your words. She had never thought about marriage before, but the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched now.

Lily nodded seriously, as if your answer made perfect sense. “You should be. You’re both really nice.” Natasha and you exchanged a look, both touched by the child’s innocent wisdom. You stayed with Lily for a few more minutes, chatting about her lemonade business and the dolls she wanted to buy. Natasha found herself relaxing more than she had in weeks, and the simple joy of the moment eased some of the tension she had been carrying.

As you said your goodbyes and headed back to your house, you took Natasha’s hand and intertwined your fingers. “She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, she is. She reminds me that there’s good in the world.” You squeezed her hand gently. “And that’s exactly what we’re fighting for.” Natasha smiled, feeling a sense of peace spread through her. In this quiet neighborhood, with you by her side and a little girl selling lemonade, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found a place where she truly belonged.

The days settled into a pleasant rhythm. Natasha and you looked forward to the moments when you would see Lily, her bright smile and cheerful energy a welcome addition to your lives. Often, you would stop by her lemonade stand, sometimes just to chat, and other times to enjoy the simple pleasure of a cold drink on a warm day.

One Saturday afternoon, you decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm light over the tree-lined paths. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the laughter of children echoed from a nearby playground. As you walked hand in hand, Natasha noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Lily was skipping along the path, holding hands with a woman who must have been her mother. The woman was tall and slender, with the same brown curls as Lily, though hers were tied up in a loose bun. She had a kind face, but Natasha couldn’t miss the weariness in her eyes.

You waved to them, and Lily’s face lit up when she recognized you. “Natasha! Y/N!” she called, pulling her mother along behind her. Natasha and you smiled as you approached, exchanging a warm greeting with the little girl. Lily’s mother smiled politely, but there was a slight tension in her posture, as if she were carrying a burden no one else could see. “Hello.” you said kindly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha.”

The woman nodded, a small, somewhat forced smile on her lips. “I’m Rachel. Lily talks about you two all the time. She’s always excited to see you.” Lily beamed up at her mother. “They’re my best customers!”

Natasha laughed, kneeling down to Lily’s level. “And you’re our favorite lemonade seller.” Lily giggled, clearly pleased with the attention. As Natasha stood back up, she noticed Rachel’s gaze flick nervously over her shoulder. She followed Rachel’s eyes and saw a man standing a few steps away, his hands deep in his pockets, watching them. He was tall and broad shouldered, his expression unreadable, but something about the way he looked at Rachel made Natasha uneasy.

Rachel’s smile faltered a little, and she quickly looked back at you and Natasha. “That’s Mark, my.. boyfriend." she said, her voice a little strained. Mark nodded in greeting, but his eyes never left Rachel. Natasha felt a wave of discomfort rising in her. She had spent years honing her instincts, learning to pick up on the smallest signs of danger, and right now, every instinct was telling her that something was off.

You, always attuned to Natasha’s moods, noticed the subtle shift in her posture. You glanced at her questioningly, but she gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. Not here, not now. “Are you headed to the playground?” you asked in a light, casual tone, trying to diffuse the tension. Rachel nodded, her grip on Lily’s hand tightening. “Yes, Lily loves the playground. We try to come on weekends.”

“That’s great..” you replied, smiling at Lily. “Maybe we’ll see you around more often.” Lily looked up at her mother eagerly. “Can we play with them, Mama? Please?” she asked, her eyes hopeful as she gazed at her Mama. But she hesitated, casting a nervous glance at Mark, who only gave a slight nod of his head. “Maybe another time, sweetheart. We need to head home soon.”

Lily pouted a little but didn’t argue, sensing her mother’s unease. “Okay…” she said softly. Natasha’s heart ached at the sight of the disappointed little girl. She wanted to ask Rachel if everything was okay, if there was anything they could do to help, but she knew better than to push. Instead, she gave Lily a reassuring smile. “We’ll see you soon, okay?” Lily nodded, her smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay! Bye, Natasha! Bye, Y/N!”

“Goodbye!” you called as you parted ways and continued down the path. As you walked further along the trail, Natasha’s thoughts kept circling back to what she had just witnessed. Something wasn’t right about the whole encounter, especially in the way Rachel and Mark interacted. It wasn’t just protectiveness or possessiveness in Mark’s eyes..there was something darker, something that set off alarm bells in Natasha’s mind.

You gently squeezed Natasha’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. “What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with concern. Natasha cast one last glance back in the direction where Rachel, Lily, and Mark had disappeared. “I’m not sure..” she said softly. “But I’m going to find out.”

You nodded, trusting Natasha’s instincts implicitly. “Do you think she’s in trouble?” Natasha didn’t answer right away. She was trying to piece together the puzzle in her head, figuring out what exactly had triggered her discomfort. “Maybe..” she finally said. “Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

You frowned, your worry growing. “If you think something’s wrong, we should do something. We can’t just ignore it.” Natasha nodded, her jaw setting in determination. “We won’t. But we have to be careful. If there’s really something going on, we don’t want to make it worse.” As you continued your walk, the warmth of the sun on your back, Natasha’s thoughts kept returning to Rachel and Lily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the peace they had found in this quiet neighborhood was more fragile than it seemed. And if something threatened that peace, Natasha was ready to do whatever it took to protect the people she cared about.

The night was quiet and still, with the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the neighborhood. Natasha and you slept peacefully in your bed, your bodies nestled close together, the gentle sound of your breathing the only noise in the room. The calm of the night seemed to envelop you, offering a rare moment of complete tranquility.

But that peace was abruptly shattered by frantic knocking at the front door. Natasha was the first to stir, her finely tuned instincts kicking in immediately. In an instant, she was out of bed, pulling on a shirt as she moved, her senses on high alert. You were awake a second later, your heart racing at the sound.

“Natasha?” you called softly as you quickly threw something on as well. “Stay here,” Natasha instructed, but you followed her downstairs anyway.

The knocking at the door grew more desperate, and Natasha felt a cold fear settling in her stomach. She motioned for you to stay back as she approached the door, but the moment she heard the sobbing of a child, all caution was forgotten. She flung the door open to find Lily standing there, her face streaked with tears, her small body trembling in the cool night air.

“Lily!” you exclaimed in shock, immediately kneeling down to be at eye level with the girl. “Sweetheart, what happened? Why are you out here?” Lily looked up at you, her lip quivering, but she said nothing. She shook her head and took a small step back, as if afraid to enter the house.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the terrified little girl. She knelt beside you, her voice gentle and calm. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.” But Lily’s eyes were still wide with fear, and she clung to her stuffed animal. She was trembling so much that she could barely stand.

You gently placed a hand on Lily’s arm. “You don’t have to be scared, Lily. You can tell us what happened. We just want to help.” For a moment, Lily seemed torn between her fear and her trust in the two of you. She glanced back at the dark street, her breath catching as if she were reliving whatever had driven her to your doorstep. Then, slowly, she took a hesitant step forward and allowed you to pull her into a warm embrace.

Lily buried her face in your shoulder, her small body shaking with silent sobs. “H-He was..he was so angry..?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Natasha exchanged a worried look with you, her protective instincts flaring. “Who was angry, Lily?” she asked gently, though she already had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Lily clung to you, her small hands gripping your shirt as if she were afraid to let go. She was crying so hard that she could barely breathe, her sobs coming in ragged gasps.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay..” you murmured, your voice soft and soothing as you held Lily close. You look at Natasha and don't know exactly what to do now. Natasha quickly stepped outside, her eyes scanning the dark street, searching for any signs of danger, but the neighborhood was eerily still. She turned back to you and Lily, her heart breaking at the sight of the frightened little girl.

“Lily, sweetheart, who was angry? Can you tell us?” Lily’s sobs began to subside, though she was still trembling. She buried her face in your shoulder again, her voice muffled and broken. “H-He hit Mommy! He kept hitting her. She told him to stop, but he wouldn’t stop…” Your grip around Lily tightened protectively, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Do you mean your mom’s friend? You did the right thing coming here, Lily.”

Lily sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes..her friend, and I remembered you said I could always come to you..” Natasha felt a surge of anger and protectiveness like she had never felt before. The thought of someone hurting this sweet little girl or her mother was unbearable. But she knew she needed to stay calm for Lily’s sake. She closed the door behind her and knelt down again.

“You were so brave, Lily." Natasha said softly, her voice steady. “You did the right thing. You’re safe now, I promise.” The little girl trembled and buried her face in your shoulder again. “I want my mommy..II want her to be okay..” You rocked her gently, your heart breaking at the thought of a child so young having to endure such fear. “We’re going to make sure your mommy is okay. We’re going to help her, and we’re going to help you.”

Natasha and you exchanged a determined look. You both knew that action needed to be taken. Natasha placed a hand on Lily’s back, trying to soothe her. “Lily, I’m going to go check on your mommy, okay? Y/n will stay here with you.”

Lily looked up at you with big, frightened eyes and clung even tighter to you. “No! Please don’t go! He’s still there! He’ll hurt you too!” Before Natasha could respond, Lily’s eyes widened with new fear. She clutched at you and began to scream in high-pitched tones. Natasha froze as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch too. The sharp smell of alcohol was the first thing she noticed, and she knew immediately who it was.

Mark.

Your face paled as you glanced toward the door, and Natasha quickly analyzed the situation. "Y/n, take her upstairs. I’ll handle this." You lifted Lily into your arms, her small face buried in your neck. "Please be careful, Natasha.."

Natasha nodded, not taking her eyes off the door. “Go.” The little girl clung to you tightly as you hurried up the stairs. Natasha positioned herself between the door and the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared for what was about to happen. The door was thrown open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Mark stumbled into the house, his face red with anger, his eyes bloodshot and wild. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, and Natasha’s stomach churned at the sight of him.

“Where is she?!” Mark slurred, his voice dripping with rage. “Where’s that little brat? She’s the one to blame for all of this!!” His eyes narrowed as he charged toward Natasha, his fists swinging wildly. But Natasha was faster. She dodged his attack effortlessly, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back in one fluid motion. Mark cried out in pain, but Natasha didn’t loosen her grip.

“Let me go, you bitch!” Mark bellowed, struggling to free his arm from her grasp, but Natasha held him with iron strength. “You’re not going to get near that girl again." Natasha hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “You’ve done enough damage.” Mark fought against her hold, but it was futile. Natasha easily forced him to the ground and held him there. She could feel his muscles tense under her grip, but she didn’t relent.

Upstairs, you quickly brought Lily into the guest room and gently set her on the bed. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here, understand? I’ll make sure of it.” Lily was still trembling, her eyes wide with fear. “Will he hurt Natasha?”

“No," you said firmly, though the fear for Natasha grew within you. "Natasha is very strong, and she’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone anymore. But I need to make a call, okay? We need to call the police so they can help us.” Lily nodded hesitantly, curling up with her stuffed animal. You quickly pulled out your phone and dialed 911, your voice trembling slightly as you explained the situation to the dispatcher.

Downstairs, Natasha was still holding Mark down on the floor, her mind racing. She knew she needed to get Rachel and Lily out of this situation permanently, but for now, Mark was the immediate threat. The sound of sirens in the distance brought a sense of relief. Help was on the way. Mark groaned beneath her, still struggling weakly. “You..you can’t do this!! Who do you think you are?!”

Natasha leaned closer to him, her voice a deadly whisper. “Oh, watch me.” Minutes later, two police officers burst into the house. Natasha stood up and released Mark, the officers immediately moving to restrain him. He was still shouting, hurling curses and threats, but Natasha felt nothing but disgust as they hauled him to his feet. “Are you alright?” one of the officers asked as they led Mark out of the house.

“I’m fine." Natasha replied coolly. “But you should check on the mother across the street. I think she’s in bad shape.” The officer nodded seriously. “We’ll take care of it. Thank you for stepping in.” Natasha watched as they led Mark out of the house and closed the door behind them. The house was suddenly quiet again, but the tension in the air remained palpable. Natasha took a deep breath to calm her nerves before heading upstairs.

When she reached the guest room, she found you sitting on the bed next to Lily. The little girl had finally calmed down and was no longer crying. The sight of the vulnerable and frightened child made Natasha’s heart ache, but she forced herself to smile gently as she approached. “It’s over." Natasha said softly. “He’s gone.”

Lily looked up at her, her eyes still wet with tears. “Is my mommy okay?” Natasha knelt beside the bed, her voice gentle and reassuring. "The police are going to check on your mommy and make sure she's okay. And we're going to help you and your mommy, Lily. We won't let anyone hurt you again."

Lily nodded slowly, a small spark of hope appearing in her eyes. "Promise?" Natasha reached out and softly wiped away a tear from Lily's cheek. "I promise."

You wrapped your arm around Lily and pulled her close. "You're safe now, sweetheart. We'll take care of everything." As Lily finally began to relax in your arms, Natasha felt a deep determination rising within her. This wasn't the end of the situation, but it was the first step. She was going to do everything in her power to protect Lily and Rachel, no matter what it took.

The paramedics had just treated Rachel’s injuries, and the police were finishing their reports. The once peaceful night was now filled with quiet, official conversations, and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow through the windows. Lily sat on the sofa between Natasha and you, her small body still trembling, and her large eyes reflected a mixture of fear and confusion.

Rachel sat nearby, her face marked with bruises, and her expression was exhausted. The weight of the night’s events had drained her, but her entire focus was on Lily, who was like a beacon of strength for her. One of the police officers approached Rachel, his tone professional but gentle. “Mrs. Dawson, under the circumstances, protocol requires that we place your daughter in temporary foster care until you are able to care for her again.”

Rachel’s already pale face turned even whiter, and she immediately shook her head, panic flashing in her eyes. “No! No, please, she can’t go into foster care.. She’s been through enough. Please, don’t take her away from me!”

Lily looked up in alarm at the officer’s words, her wide, frightened eyes turning to her mother. “Mama..I don’t want to go..” Instinctively, you put your arm around Lily and pulled her closer to you. Natasha’s expression darkened as she sensed the rising fear in Rachel and Lily. The thought of Lily being taken away, even temporarily, was unthinkable to you both. Not after everything the little girl had already endured.

Rachel looked at Natasha and you with desperation, her voice trembling with emotion. “Please..she can stay with you, right? You live right across the street. She knows you, she feels safe with you..please, don’t let them take her away.” The officer hesitated, visibly torn. “Ma’am, I understand your concern, but the safety of the child is our top priority. We need to ensure that she’s in a stable environment while you recover.”

Natasha stood up, her stance determined as she stepped forward. “She is in a stable environment. Right here, with us.” Her voice was calm but firm, with the tone of someone who wasn’t used to being questioned. You nodded, equally resolute. “We live right across the street. We’re neighbors and friends, and Lily trusts us. We can take care of her while Rachel is in the hospital. You can check in on her anytime.”

The officer looked between Natasha and you, clearly aware of who you both were. He sighed, knowing this wasn’t an easy decision. “Are you sure you can take on this responsibility? It could be several days, maybe longer.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “We’re sure. We’ll make sure she’s safe, and she’ll be close to her mother. That’s what’s best for her.” Rachel’s eyes filled with tears of relief as she reached for Lily’s hand. “Please, Officer.. don’t take her away from me. I can’t bear it. She’s been through enough already.” The officer exchanged a look with his colleague, then back at Natasha and you. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll allow it, but we’ll need to conduct regular checks to ensure everything is going smoothly.”

Natasha nodded. “Of course. We’ll cooperate fully.” The officer turned to Rachel. “We’ll take you to the hospital now, Mrs. Dawson. You need to focus on your recovery.” Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her face as she turned to Lily. “Sweetheart, you’ll stay with Natasha and Y/n for a little while, okay? They’ll take good care of you.”

Lily, still clutching her stuffed animal, looked up at her mother, her voice trembling. “But..I-I want to stay with you, Mama..”

Rachel’s heart broke at her daughter’s words, but she forced herself to smile despite the pain. “I know, darling. And I want to stay with you too. But I need to get better first, so I can be with you again. Natasha and Y/n will take care of you, and I’ll be very close by, okay?” Lily nodded slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Okay..but promise me you’ll come back soon?”

Rachel’s voice cracked as she leaned down and kissed Lily’s forehead. “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” You gently took Lily’s hand in yours, your voice soft and reassuring. “Let’s go home, Lily. We’ll make you some hot chocolate and get you to bed, okay?” Lily nodded again, her small hand gripping yours tightly. She gave her mother one last look, and Rachel smiled encouragingly through her tears and nodded to her.

As the paramedics helped Rachel to her feet and escorted her out of the house, you and Natasha led Lily back across the street to your home. The little girl was quiet, her mind clearly processing everything that had happened. You carried her into the living room and set her on the sofa while Natasha locked the door and made sure the house was secure.

Inside, you knelt in front of Lily and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re so brave, Lily. Your Mama is going to get better, and we’ll take care of you until then. You’re safe here with us.” Natasha sat down beside Lily on the sofa. “We’ll make sure you stay close to your Mommy, and we’ll visit her as soon as she’s feeling better. But for now, we’re here for you.”

Lily looked up at both of you, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and trust. “Okay..but can we visit her tomorrow?” You smiled, your heart filled with love for the little girl. “We’ll try, sweetheart. Let’s get through the night first, and then we’ll see what we can do tomorrow.” Natasha gently stroked Lily’s hair, feeling a strong protective instinct for the child who had already been through so much. “We’re here for you, Lily. You’re not alone.”

In the quiet of the night, as Lily finally fell asleep in the next room, you and Natasha shared a silent moment of reflection. You had stepped into this role out of necessity, but now it felt like more. You were no longer just neighbors or friends; you were a family, brought together by circumstances and bound by love. And as long as you had each other, you knew you could face any challenges that lay ahead.

The visit to the hospital the next day went as well as could be hoped for in such a situation. Lily clung to her mother, her small body finally relaxing in the comforting arms of Rachel, and Rachel, though bruised and exhausted, smiled brighter than Natasha and you had ever seen. There was still a long road ahead of them, but the worst seemed to be over.

Three days later, Rachel was discharged. As the evening wore on, you and Natasha returned home, your house now quieter without Lily’s youthful energy. The night had gently fallen over the neighborhood, and a sense of calm finally settled in after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. After getting ready for bed, you found yourselves lying close together, the soft light of the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the room. Your hands were intertwined, both of you lost in thought.

You broke the silence first, your voice gentle. “You were amazing with Lily, Nat. You really helped her through something so terrible.” Natasha turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “I just wanted to make sure she was safe. She’s a strong little girl, but no one should have to go through what she did.”

You nodded, your gaze softening as you brushed a strand of hair from Natasha’s face. “You have such a strong protective instinct. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” Natasha’s smile faded a little, and she looked away, her eyes clouded with memories she rarely let surface. You, always sensitive to her moods, hesitated before speaking again.

“Nat..h-have you ever thought about..starting a family of our own?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with both hope and caution. Natasha held her breath for a moment, feeling her heart tighten. She had always known this conversation would come eventually, but now that you had voiced it, it felt even more real. She took a deep breath before answering, her voice calm but tinged with deep pain.

“You know that I…The Red Room made sure that..” Your heart aching at the thought of all the horrors Natasha had endured, and the irreversible damage done to her body. It was a subject Natasha rarely spoke about, and you had always respected that, never pushing, because you knew how deeply the pain ran. “I know, Nat.." you said softly, holding her hand a little tighter. “But..family doesn’t have to be just biological. Look at what we’ve done for Lily in just a few days. You were there for her like a mother would be. And I think..I think you’d make an incredible mom. And..if it’s okay to say this..But what if I get pregnant?”

Natasha looked into your eyes, her green eyes reflecting the inner battle she was fighting. “But what if..what if I can’t do it? What if I can’t be what a child needs? I’ve spent my whole life fighting, Y/n. I’m not sure I even know how to be..normal.”

You smiled, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Natasha. That’s exactly why I love you. And being parents doesn’t mean we have to be perfect. It means loving, protecting, and doing our best.” Natasha’s heart ached with a mix of longing and fear. The thought of having a family, of creating something good and whole out of the broken pieces of her past, was both terrifying and tempting. But as she looked into your eyes, she felt a warmth, a hope she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

“Do you really think we could do it?” Natasha asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. You nodded, your eyes shining with love and certainty. “Yes, I do. And we’d do it together, just like we do everything else. We don’t have to decide right now, but..I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about it. And I would want to do it with you.”

Natasha was silent for a long moment, letting the idea settle in her heart. It was a difficult topic, one that opened old wounds, but your unwavering support gave her the courage to at least consider it. Finally, Natasha nodded slightly, her grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Maybe..maybe one day. I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but..I’d like to think about it. With you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with even more love for the woman beside you. “That’s all I could ever want, Nat..Everything in its own time.” The two of you lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, the weight of the conversation gradually giving way to a deep, comforting sense of connection. Outside, the night was quiet and peaceful, and inside, in the warmth of your love, the future seemed a little less daunting. As Natasha closed her eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat under her hand, she allowed herself to dream of a future where the two of you could build a family together. It was a new and unfamiliar dream, but with you by her side, it no longer seemed impossible. And with you beside her, she knew you could face whatever the future had in store for you both.

-

-

-

🤧🤧🤧🤧

[h0neylevi]

post-war, canonverse, semi-public sex, fingering, fem!reader, some light degradation, dry humping, MDNI

w/c: ~ 1630

Everything has been so new lately.

Moving to Marley after the war had been an easy decision, but that didn’t mean the physical act of settling into a new place wasn’t without its hurdles. Mostly, it was about adjusting—getting used to the advances in technology that wasn’t present on Paradis. Telephones, cars, radios, even electric stoves were commonplace things that Levi still marveled at.

And then, there was also you.

More specifically, the way you’d both found yourselves quite suddenly thrust into a life after war, a life without titans and the looming threat of death hanging over your heads like a dense fog. 

As former comrades, it only made sense once the smoke cleared to navigate this new world together. And Levi was more than happy to experience all manner of firsts at your side.

It’s through this different layer of companionship that Levi learns so many new things about you. How you like your eggs in the morning, how tired you get after having too much pasta, the way the hair at the back of your head always sticks up the next day if you go to sleep with it still wet. He learns how you organize your books on your shelves (by size) and how when you’re having a bad day and tell him to leave you alone, you don’t actually mean it.

He’s always known how to make you laugh, but after eight months of living together under the same roof, he learns how to make you moan. It’s a sound he’d like to bottle forever, the sight of your body arched beneath him a vision too precious to look away for even a second. Even with only one good eye, he soaks it in like you’re a dream that’ll fade if he blinks.

He learns that he likes kissing, and you do too. So, when you lean across the center console of his brand new car at Marley’s drive-in movie theater one summer night, he doesn’t think much of it. At least, not until your hands start wandering and he finds himself pulled into the backseat.

You give him very little time to recover from the surprise of being pulled from his seat before your lips are on his again. The leather of the upholstery groans as you straddle his narrow waist and on instinct, Levi reaches out, eyes still closed as he guides you onto his lap.

His palm splays over the skirt of your dress, hiking it up a little in his haste. When he feels the fabric, he pulls away slightly.

He gently squeezes your thigh, watching the cloth bunch a little in his grasp. The sound of your breath hitching in your throat makes him look up. “What’s got you so worked up, hm?”

Above him, forming words feels borderline impossible. Not while his thumb is drawing circles on the inside of your thigh and he’s looking up at you through those delightfully full lashes. It strikes you that this facet of your relationship is still relatively new, so the warmth on your cheeks doesn’t feel out of place when you swallow around your meekness and say, “You.”

“Me?” Levi’s brows raise, but he thinks he gets it. The moment you’d walked out of your room in this little number, his mind had gone straight to the gutter.

Like he’s revisiting the memory, his hands begin to slowly trail every part of you his eyes drift over—thumbs tracing the tantalizing curve of your breasts, down the silky material over your waist before resting his palms on your hips. When he gives you another subtle squeeze, you roll against him, feeling the hardening outline of his cock through his trousers against your core.

“Can’t help it,” you breathe out slowly, like you're making every effort to remain composed, but the strain in your voice betrays the neediness beneath. 

Your palms drift over the soft fabric of his shirt, moving over firm muscle. They’re not as defined as they once were, but you relish in his solid warmth all the same. Enamored by him, always.

He lets you explore unimpeded. You’ve always been handsy—checking him for signs of injury or illness when he inevitably pushed himself too far during expeditions. Now he’s grown used to the way that protective tendency has turned into an act of appreciation and fondness. It makes something light and airy form in his chest when you lean down again to kiss him.

“These windows aren’t tinted,” he says a moment later. The warning is half-hearted and murmured mostly against your lips, in conflict with the way his hands keep you anchored where you are.

His feeble hesitation makes you laugh.

You settle further into his lap, nearly chest to chest now. You can feel the way his breathing has grown labored against you. “No one’s looking at us, Levi.”

It is dark, at least. He has enough sense still to acknowledge that the large screen up front will be capturing most peoples’ attention, even though it’s currently in an intermission right now. There are only fifteen minutes between the double features tonight. A shame, he thinks. When it comes to you especially, he always likes to take his time.

You move your attention to the curve of his jaw, peppering hot, pillowy kisses down the expanse of his neck before suckling the sensitive flesh of his clavicle, and every thought not focused on the present stops. 

He closes his eyes, caught between the feeling of your lips on his neck and your warm cunt gliding over his cockhead. Even through several layers of clothes, pleasure rushes through him with each rut of your hips. You’re so warm and pretty that it’s dizzying.

In retaliation, a thumb swipes over your clothed clit, and Levi smirks when your movements almost completely stop. Behind you, the large screen lights up and Levi watches in the soft blue light as you lean back slightly, mouth slightly agape in a silent gasp.

“Never took you for an exhibitionist,” he says, the reflection of the movie behind you mirrored in his unclouded iris.

Before you can say anything, he hooks two fingers around your panties and pulls them to the side, sliding the digits through the arousal that’s already beginning to soak into the cotton.

“I-I’m not,” you attempt to defend, but the protest comes out weak and shaky with his movements.

“Is that right?” Levi asks, his tone mildly condescending. “Well, the fact that you’re grinding on top of me right now says otherwise.”

The pressure of his fingers on your cunt makes it difficult to think. If you were in your right mind, you might be embarrassed about the way the windows have started to fog, but you can only be grateful for the extra coverage.

The air is thick and your body feels like it’s on fire. Every brush of Levi’s fingers on your skin sends you aflame. His injured hand anchors you in place, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your hip while his other hand continues to pick you apart, making your knees quiver.

Your voice is a strained gasp against the shell of his ear. “Like you’re not hard already just from kissing.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

The hand on your hip lowers, and for a moment you think he’s gesturing for you to get up, but the new position allows his other hand to slide down. Two fingers quickly bottom out inside your cunt.

Your features pinch with the effort it takes to keep yourself quiet.

“There you go,” Levi coos, smug as your fingers struggle for purchase on his shoulders. “Is that what you wanted?”

His cock, his fingers, his mouth. All three. You want to tell him that you’d gladly take anything he’d give you, but all you can do is pant uselessly into his neck and try to hold on.

“Couldn’t wait until we got home, hm?” Levi continues, his fingers pumping and curling in such a way to make you see stars in your vision. “Needy thing.”

You clench around him, spurred on by his words. “Levi.”

He keeps talking, undeterred. A glow appears in his eyes as you rock into his palm, meeting his movements. “Dirty girl, fucking my fingers like this in the open.”

Pleasure coils in your belly. You grasp helplessly against his sturdy neck, cheeks burning and nails dragging over the soft fuzz of his undercut as it continues to build and build. The pressure of his thumb on your clit pulls all of your muscles taut.

When your moans become wispy and delicate gasps of air, he knows you’re right on the edge.

“Let go, sweetheart,” Levi murmurs. “You can come.”

Your orgasm hits you like a train. With a single gasp of his name, you come undone. Levi holds you through it as you shudder and spasm, his free arm now wrapped around your waist.

When you pull back, your eyes are bleary and content. Every muscle in your body seems to relax against him.

Levi pulls his hand from between your legs. “Satisfied?”

“Mmm,” is all you can manage. The aftershocks still continue to wash over you, making you feel boneless and tired.

When they subside, you give him a quick peck and slide off of his lap, climbing back into the front passenger seat.

Levi follows with a grunt. When he settles back into the driver’s seat, he buckles his seatbelt and starts the car.

You turn, confused. “What are you doing? The movie isn’t over.”

Slowly, he eases out of the parking spot toward the exit. Just before he turns onto the road, he gives you an incredulous look.

“You think I can focus on anything else after that?” From the streetlight above, you can finally see the deep shade of pink tinting his neck and face. “I’m taking you home so I can really make you scream.”

[devildomwriter]

Pact Mark — Bond Placement

What if pact marks appeared in specific areas based on the connection you had with the demon when you first made it? Like the heart is for love and faith, a shoulder means you can lean on them, a hand is someone you made a quick deal with or someone who very much wanted the deal, somewhere along the spine shows trust sense a broken spine can end it all, a hip or tailbone represents something more sexual, etc.

Lucifer

Lucifer’s pact was made out of trust, respect, and let’s be honest—serious sexual tension (you literally have the option to “spend the night” with him right after the pact is made). His pact mark appears on your tailbone, a sensitive place on your body.

Mammon

Mammon’s pact was made manipulatively without a close bond between you two so his appears on the hand like a deal being made in a handshake. This bothers him nowadays.

Leviathan

Leviathan’s pact was made as a deal and following through on it despite the competition weighing heavily in your favor. His appears on your chest as a symbol a faith and good-will (though originally he was going to eat you—this is canon)

Satan

Satan’s pact was made from respect rather than his original intention to just annoy Lucifer. His pact appears on the back of your neck, a place people reach for comfort because you can take comfort in the fact he is genuinely on your side, it’s also a sensitive part on the body, showing you can trust him.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus’s pact was made in complete awe of your strength, plus he thought you were cute and unique. His appears on the back of your hand like a kiss of respect.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub’s was made with a promise to help someone he cared for and his trust you’d follow through. His appears over the heart for the care in which the promise and pact were made.

Belphegor

Belphegor’s was made as a gift and apology, a sign of loyalty. His appears on the back because he will always have yours for as long as he lives.

Possible Pacts

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles has a developed bond with you at this point. Though he mostly scolds you for behaving improperly, he also helps when you need it or when interests align. He mostly only aids if he’s given something in return but when it counts he will be there. His pact mark appears on the back of your hand as he is a deal-maker through and through.

Barbatos

Barbatos did not develop close bonds with you as quickly as the others. It took a long time for him to completely trust you. His would appear on your shoulder as he is someone you can lean on and trust.

Diavolo

Diavolo cannot make a pact but if he did it would be on the small of your back. He cares and trusts you deeply. He has a very strong influence in your life, someone to guide you forward like a hand on your back.

Guardian Angel Pact

Much like demons who make pacts, an Angel can only become someone’s guardian once in the human’s life span. What if they had guardian symbols?

Luke

Luke may be a child but he’s smart, he learns and grows quickly and he helps you as he does this. He keeps your heart warm and guides you to do what’s right like a moral conscious. His would appear on your temple, displaying the wisdom he’ll bring to your life, especially as he grows.

Simeon

Simeon cares for you very deeply, enough that he’d give up everything for you as we have seen in the game. Simeon’s guardian pact would be on the finger he placed the Ring of Light which saved your life and forever changed his.

Raphael

Raphael is hard to get close to but you can tell that he cares. His pact would be on your temple above the ear as he is a voice to guide you even when you don’t want him to be.

Michael

Michael is pretty concerned about your safety and who you become. He’s simultaneously intrigued by you and protective of you, he’s saved your life multiple times. His guardian pact mark would be near your heart since time and again he’s been the only one who kept it beating.

Reaper Pact

What if Grim Reaper’s had a pact symbol with the humans whose souls they would reap or keep with them?

Thirteen

Since Thirteen has been promised your soul once you pass (unless you end up like Solomon) her reaper pact would appear on the sole of your foot, representing the steps you walk as your life moves forward.

Sorcerer Pact

What if Sorcerer’s closely bonded, or otherwise made pacts like promises to each other? A coven-symbol of sorts.

Solomon

Solomon’s would appear on your forehead, much like a third eye of wisdom.

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Tiny shadows - Azriel x reader (blurb)

Summary: your daughter starts showing first signs of her shadow powers when you are on a mission, Azriel is proud but freaks out a little without you there. (fluff)

Word count: 1k

The woods of the autumn court were foggy. You were on a mission for three days already, eager to go home to your daughter and mate, Azriel. You were picking up your stuff and putting them in your backpack when you felt a little tug in your chest. That’s weird; normally Azriel didn’t ever call you while you’re on a mission. Panic surged through you. Was something amiss? Was it Azriel's panic or your own coursing through the bond?

“Is everything okay, baby?”, you called, receiving no respons. You started to pack faster, ready to winnow home as fast as possible. But then you felt the tug again. "Shadows", his panicked voice echoed through the bond. What did he mean by that?

“What? Is something wrong with your shadows, Az? Are you okay?”. No answer. That was enough. You grabbed your bag and winnowed to your house in Velaris.

Though you observed no immediate threat, Azriel and your daughter stood in the living room, with panicked expressions, both wearing a cooking apron. Azriel was running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. “This isn’t supposed to happen so soon, how is this possible, will she have to be a spy too, will she-", Azriel murmured quietly to himself but stopped when he heard her voice. "Daddy, what’s happening?” your daughter asked him. His worried eyes softened when he heard the shakiness of her voice.

“Hey I’m back, what’s wrong?” you tried to interrupt softly. Your daughter immediately looked your way. “Mommy mommy” she cried, running towards you. “Hey sweetie” you smiled a little while hugging her. But when she looked at you, you saw the tears in her little eyes, the beautiful hazel ones, just like her father’s. “Why are you crying, love?” You asked while stroking her dark curls. “I-I’m.. I’m scared,” she stuttered.

Your mate now stood next to you, with a deep furrow on his handsome face. “I’m like daddy,” she said softly. “What do you mean?” you asked, kneeling down next to her. Azriel knelt beside you, his leg brushing yours, attempting to calm himself. “She.. she has shadows, we were making you a pie for when you returned and… I thought it was my shadow at first. But then I realized it was hers,” he stuttered. “I didn’t know what to do, so… I freaked out a little. I think I scared her,” he said to you, guilt all over his face.

That’s when a tiny shadow appeared between you and your mate, it stroked Azriel’s cheek softly, intertwining with a dark piece of hair that was falling on his forehead. It was your daughters shadow, you then realized. “I’m so sorry daddy” she whispered, lips trembling. “No, no baby, you don’t have to be sorry. Daddy is very proud of you,” he answered with a pained voice. And you knew he wasn’t lying when you saw the proud tears that filled his eyes. “Are you mad at me?“ she asked. “You are just like me, sweet girl, how could I be mad?’, Az answered, his leg trembling a little against yours. “I like being just like you daddy,” your daughter smiled softly. “Now I have your cool shadows and mommy’s pretty face,“ she added proudly. “You certainly are pretty, honey, just like your mother”, Azriel smirked.

“But what now? W-will my friends at school be scared of me?” she stuttered. “I think your shadows are beautiful and sweet, just like your daddies shadows, I already love them. Don’t worry about your friends, they will love them too. I promise,” you smiled, feeling Azriel’s comforting scarred hands on your back. Your daughter’s tiny shadow is now playing with your hair too. “You’ll just have to learn how to control them, luckily your daddy is an expert” Azriel smiled.

An hour later, your little girl was sleeping peacefully in her bed, shadows dancing softly around her, playing with Azriel’s shadows. As you watched her, resting your head on Azriel's shoulder, he confessed, "I didn’t handle that right. It was just scary to think about her future when she has powers just like me”. You nestled your face deeper into his warm neck, closing your eyes in the comfort of it.

“Don’t worry babe, I get it. I didn’t expect her to get the shadows so young either, but you actually are too overprotective sometimes you know” you said. “As long as the boys stay away from her for a while, I’m okay”, he grumbled. “Of course you are, typical Illyrian, you know. Luckily I felt you through the bond”, you sighed with a smile. “What would I be without you,” he smiled back. “Nothing, I guess,” you joked, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, planting a soft kiss on his lips. “You really think my shadows are beautiful and sweet?” he smirked, accentuating the “sweet” teasingly. He stroked your hair and intertwined his fingers with it, like he always did when he needed your comfort. “Of course I do, they like me a lot, but you know that already you cocky bastard” you laughed.

“I just love hearing you say it” 

[archangeldyke-all]

ok hear me out angel, what about reader asking sevika about Isha’s family? Like wondering if they shouldn’t find her family or anything.

Maybe Sevika could open up about her own past with her abusive father and confess that she relates to Isha because she was probably either an orphan or running away from a toxic environment?

idk if you share my vision but I loveee when Sevika is vulnerable.

🖤

god :,) i love this

men and minors dni

as a family, you've all been learning sign language to better communicate with isha.

the girl is young and restless, and she gets frustrated easily when her hands can't keep up with her thoughts. she would rather just use jinx's surprisingly good interpretation of her facial expressions to communicate.

so, none of you are experts yet, but isha is able to tell you all a little bit more about herself the more she learns.

she doesn't know how old she is, but in the mines she was grouped with kids aged 4-6. so she's close to there.

she doesn't have any parents, and she doesn't remember ever having parents.

and when she met jinx, she had made an escape from the mine camps she was raised in, being chased by goons wanting to bring her back. tiny hands are useful in mines. and isha was a for-lifer.

isha explains this all to you slowly, over time, mostly with jinx's encouragement. and living in the undercity, stories like isha's aren't as rare as they should be. so you're all a little numb to the true horror of isha's life before jinx.

it hits you all at different times.

jinx is the first person to shed tears for isha. you wake up in the middle of the night to horrified screams coming from the girls' room, and both you and sevika sprint in, fearing the worst.

it's just isha having a nightmare, but it's still heartwrenching to watch as she sobs and shakes and screams out in her sleep. jinx is the only one who could wake her up, her voice seeming to break through the horrors for poor isha. the girl snaps awake with a gasp, launching into jinx's arms with a relieved cry.

"w-what happened, kiddo?" jinx whispers, her voice shaky.

isha quickly, shakily signs something only jinx can see, and she bursts into tears, wrapping isha up in a hug.

"what was it? what'd she say?" sevika asks.

jinx shakes her head. "'canary went quiet.'" she says, shakily. "she dreamt about the mines suffocating her."

you shiver, and sevika sighs heavily. both of you crawl onto the floor, preparing for a long night of soothing the kids to sleep.

the next person who cries about it is you.

you stumble to the kitchen in the middle of the night in search of a glass of water and catch isha in the fridge, stuffing her face with leftovers from dinner.

"you wan' me to warm that up for you, kiddo?" you ask around a yawn.

isha jumps and stumbles to her feet, her eyes wide and fearful, the food splattering to the floor. sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-- she signs over and over.

you blink. "no-- what? don't worry about it baby, 's just some spilled rice--"

isha bursts into tears and starts tugging at her hair, worry consuming her, you gasp, darting forward and pulling her in for a hug. she flinches just a bit before she realizes you aren't going to hurt her, and your heart shatters.

"isha, baby, you can eat as much food as you want, whenever you want." you whisper into her blue hair. isha moans against you. "that's a rule here. you'll never be in trouble for taking food. even if it's jinx's 'secret' cookies." isha giggles a little at this, and you start to cry, burying your face against her scruffy head of freshly dyed blue hair.

you both cry until isha's stomach grumbles, and then you burst into giggles.

"c'mon. i'll make you your favorite if you help me." you say, standing from the floor and flicking a light on. isha gasps.

blueberry pancakes? she signs with a grin. when you nod, isha darts forward and hugs your legs. thank you ms. baby. she signs. it makes you start to cry again.

sevika's the last one to crack, but that doesn't surprise you.

what does surprise you is how open she is about it.

isha asks about family one evening over dinner. it's got you all a little emotional, the sweet questions she signs.

is this family? she asks first.

a few forks clatter onto plates, and it's silent. isha's inquisitive gold eyes dart around the table, waiting for one of you to speak. sevika looks at you you look at isha.

jinx speaks. "close enough, yeah." she says.

you grin, and bite your lip. sevika sighs.

is there more? isha asks.

all your smiles immediately fall as the solemn topic of more family, alive and dead, is brought up.

jinx sighs. "you know vi, my sister, the asshole cop." she mutters. isha giggles at the curse. "i... had parents. don't remember much of 'em. mostly, i remember the stories vi would tell me about 'em. felicia and connel. they died when i was young. then i had a few brothers and vander... and they died too..."

isha pouts and darts forward to hug away jinx's far away look.

sevika takes over while jinx starts stroking isha's hair.

"then she had silco. and me, i guess." she says with a shrug. jinx smiles a little.

"do you have any family in zaun, sev?" jinx asks.

you reach out and grab sevika's hand, and she kisses your knuckles before speaking slowly.

"i had a dad. we had a... shaky relationship." she says simply. jinx understands this, and she hums with a nods. isha's blinking at sevika with big eyes, listening intently. "he died hating me, i mean we were always feuding. but then sometimes, we weren't feuding, and..." she shakes her head and huffs. "and after that i kinda thought family was somethin' i just wasn't any good at." a few tears fall down her cheeks, and she looks up at the girls across the table.

but look at you, now, big mama. isha signs with a happy smile.

jinx bursts into laughter at the use of the nickname, and sevika bursts into tears.

you giggle and coo, pulling sevika into your arms to let her cry in your shoulder. "'s okay, big mama." you tease.

"s-shut up!" sevika cries. isha giggles, and sevika lifts her face to smile at the girl, tears streaming down her cheeks. "look at me now, kid. exactly."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone

[princessbrunette]

when kitty!reader gets arrested for stupidly overstepping with a cop, it’s a no brainer that jj is coming to pick her up from the station. you’re expecting cockiness, maybe some middle fingers, and then some shared banter with you to cheer you up. what you don’t consider, is how hard it might be for jj to step foot back in that place.

your demeanour immediately softens when he steps up to the office to collect you, after being unnecessarily searched by a cop. his eyes are raking over you cautiously as he’s talking to shoupe, a hand rubbing at his chest anxiously which really — should have been the first sign that he just didn’t like it here.

from the way he was lacking mirth — clearly displeased, you assume the night would head in another direction instead. hard core dominance, a punishment — perhaps being forced over his lap or overstimulated until you cry. to think like this, he’d clearly spoiled you in the past.

you start rambling as he walks you out the station gripping your arm, barely getting a breath in.

“since when is it a crime to give ‘attitude’ anyway? they really think i’m a threat to anyone? what a bunch of pussies — seriously jayj, these are the people meant to be protecting us. all i did was state the truth, being that —”

“hey, hey alright—” he’s sudden with the way he addresses you, your words cut off as he pulls you to stand directly infront of him, both of his hands on your shoulders. you brace for the telling off that you probably deserve. instead, his voice is soft and he looks tired. “are you okay? did they touch you? ‘cus if they did i’m heading back inside so you gotta tell me now baby.” his gaze is intense and the little relieved smile you had was completely wiped from your face, blinking up at him like the seriousness had just settled in.

“i… no. they didn’t hurt me they just cuffed me but it was fine.” you’re taken aback and he sighs, tonguing at his bottom lip in thought before stepping back and pulling his cap off to run a hand through his hair.

“you know, like — i had hoped that you’d atleast paid attention and learnt from my mistakes. these cops they’re not — they’re not good people. you get that, right? like — if you piss ‘em off once, they don’t stop picking on you. look what they did to me.” his voice is still uncharacteristically soft with you, totally exasperated. you hug yourself, suddenly a lot more ashamed.

“really?”

“yeah. really.” you feel the irritation he’s holding back. “look i love you babe, and i’m glad you’re okay — but i’m not happy. at all. pretty pissed right now, honestly.”

the ride back to his is silent, and you hope that once you’re home things will simmer down. you just want to forget the day you’ve both had and go to sleep. apparently, so does he — but not with you. he avoids your eyes as he drags a pillow to the couch in the living room, followed by a blanket.

“jayj?” you sound so broken that he wants to give in, but you have to learn. he physically flinches at your voice, resisting.

“no, okay. i’m — i’m not mad. i just… being back in that place, after my dad…” he finally looks at you, and the memory of seeing you in there visits him all over again, springing that bothersome irritation in his chest. “i thought you’d get it. gimme a little time here.”

he sees how shattered you look and presses his lips together, dragging his feet towards you. he softly grips your face and kisses your forehead. “go to bed. it’s fine.”

you cry when you shut the bedroom door. you cry as you change into your pyjamas. you cry as you brush your teeth. you do eventually drift off, but you’re back up at 3:30AM, sniffling once more. you get it, you messed up — but neither of you needed this.

you pad into the living room to find jj staring at the ceiling, eyes floating to you where you paw at your eye, unable to stop the quiet mewls as you cry. he doesn’t say much, just opens his blanket to welcome you in beside him.

the anger at you returns, but you don’t mind when you’re on your back with your legs around his waist — your teary eyed boyfriend pummelling his dick into you repeatedly. he grits his jaw, pulling himself together.

“you think you’re a bad girl now, ain’t that right kitty? wanna do bad girl things n’get arrested jus’ like your boyfriend? you can’t handle that shit, your spoiled ass can’t even handle being scolded a little.” he rants breathlessly before sitting up to get a better angle, the blanket sliding off his back. he pushes your legs up and you whine.

“i’m s— i’m sorry papa won’t do it again!” you cry and he scoffs. it’s mean.

“you’re damn right, mama. clearly i got some bad behaviour to correct. what’s gonna teach you a lesson? me fuckin’ that little ass?”

your eyes glimmer with hope at the premise of this punishment and he gives your cheek a swift little tap before you get any ideas. “yeah, don’t gimme that look kitty. ain’t gonna feel like a reward when i do it, can tell you that for free.”

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

hcs for all the castlevania boys (trevor, issac, hector, alucard, dracula, godbrand, the judge, varney, ratko & st. germain- i think that's all of them lol) caring for s/o reader on their period. can be modern times or past times whichever u prefer. 💖

A/N: I wish more people would be less disgusted and more understanding when it comes to menstruation. There are still so many myths circulating about it, I’m shocked sometimes. One time a guy on Twitter said he thought women got periods because they evolved to eat meat. And I was like…. Excuse you?? Lol. Anyway, on to the HCs!

Sorry, some are short. I wanted to do longer to make it fair but there were like TEN characters mentioned and my max is supposed to be SIX so some are taking a far back seat. 

TW: Blood, Period Mention (still w/ GN Reader)

Castlevania Boys Helping S/O GN!Reader with Their Period: 🩸

Trevor: 

Is surprisingly resourceful, given the man was a wandering drunk when you first met him.

Not so much in a kind about-it way, he’s very sarcastic and so over the whole thing right after it starts.

But he did have a large family once so he remembers what his sisters and mother went through.

Will cut off strips of his cape for you to use, but expects you to take care of any sort of ‘mess’, he’s pre-occupied cleaning whatever latest monster’s guts off himself anyway

Buys a whiskey but lets YOU drink most of it to help with the cramps (and for him this is the ultimate sign he loves you lol).

Alucard: 

Is unexpectedly awkward for someone whose mother was a doctor.

He’s very knowledgeable but unsure of how to broach the subject, sort of giving you instructions on what to do (as if you made it to the age you did without knowing??).  

And of course, the castle has everything you could need, and if it doesn’t, he won’t hesitate to travel to get it for you. Although he does insist you stay in while he retrieves it.

If you’ve been together for a while, offers to help clean you up in equal parts removed curiosity and bewitched hunger (although he’s comparatively embarrassed about that later part).

Hector: 

Not phased at all. The man’s used to sticking his hands into corpses, why would menstrual blood be an issue?

Isn’t super knowledgeable about it, he’s been alone focusing solely on his needs for so many years, and this was never one of them. But he does try and learn now that he has you.

He sends his most trustworthy night creatures and reanimated pets to go hunting for the herbs and wild medicines you use. On the other hand, Hector orders the more domesticated pets to stay and cuddle/play with you. 

On the days you’re curled up in a ball in bed, he offers to read some of the books he’s been writing as he knows you find his voice very soothing. 

Isaac: 

Fascinated by human psychology and biology from an earlier age, so he’s moderately educated on the subject. 

Blood does not scare him, but he does understand the societal stigma around sharing such a natural cycle with him.

Like Hector, he sends out his night creatures to fetch you whatever you need. 

Ensure you drink enough tea and water to stay hydrated. Also asks that you eat plenty of red meat to help replace some of the iron you’ve lost.

Is one of the few men that requests you stay as active as you can, limiting rather than stopping your regular activities. Movement and keeping your mind occupied should make the days pass much faster, as Issac is a firm believer that self-discipline is one of the most powerful tools of all. 

Godbrand: 

Not grossed out, but ends up grossing YOU out with his enthusiasm about the whole thing

Will of course offer to go down there himself and ‘take care of matters like a man’ - his words, not yours. 

What? For Godbrand, being with a living, breathing, and most importantly, bleeding human are the perks of your relationship. It’s like having a partner and a constant food source all in one!

Will absolutely curse out if not straight-up attack any other vampire who dares to bitch about your mood swings or irritable behavior. And then once you’re out of earshot, he will proceed to bitch about said mood swings and irritable behavior. What? At least he’s gentlemanly enough not to do it to your face.  

Dracula: 

The most caring and respectful king fr

He is super understanding and educated on the subject. In fairness, he’s probably curated half of the books on menstruation within his vast libraries. 

Has the necessary products on hand- strips of cloth, herbs for cramping and pain, teas, and a medieval-era heating pad of his own invention. 

Like Godbrand, offers to pleasure you down there to help relieve some cramps with the help of an orgasm, although he’s much more romantic and poetic when he suggests such a thing to you. And unlike Godbrand, he’s in it solely for your benefit. The idea that he’d get to feed as well is the farthest thing on his mind. 

Literally the most perfect and doting husband to ever walk the face of this earth oh my god.

The Judge: 

Expects you to handle it yourself lol. 

Don’t ask him for advice or aid. If you must seek out assistance, he directs you to another woman or midwife within the town.

Considers it highly inappropriate to discuss such matters, even if you’re together. 

0/10, not very helpful, would not recommend. 

Saint Germain

Knows a decent amount of what to expect and how to aid you should you request it. 

He’s well-educated and very well-traveled, so he’s encountered quite a few different cultural views of menstruation. 

Does, however, expect you to take care of the more messy parts of it.

He will offer you back rubs or make tea, but aside from him being aware of your current condition, he doesn’t change the way he treats you much at all. 

Sala:

Gets high key disgusting with it

Asks if you can gather all your bloody rags in a big bowl so he can perform some satanic ritual with it. (You’re like… Um, no??? Unless you’re cray-cray too, which, if you’re with him, has a fair chance of ringing true.) 

Will tell everyone else in the monastery about it cuz he’s a freak like that.

Keeps reminding you how in your current state, you would be a perfect sacrifice for the Great Lord Dracula… Ya know, because of the blood thing?

Subtly is NOT his strong suit

Varney: 

The entity also known as Death knows your cycle better than you do lol.

Keeps a mental calendar in his head, and starts peppering you with more kisses than usual a few days before your bleeding starts. 

Just really wants to get on your good side. And wants you to recall in the coming days, how sweet he was to you, so you know, you don’t take all your anger and frustration out on him. 

Very little scares him, he is Death after all. But aside from people not dying and Belmont giving him another go, your mood swings on your period scare the hell out of him. 

He’s not a patient man, and by day seven, Varney feels rather demoralized after being encumbered by his partner’s common human condition. 

Begs Ratko for help. Is promptly told to piss off. 

Ratko: 

Doesn’t react, except to tell you that you smell so much better this way. 

He delivers that line in such a deadpan too, you almost misunderstand what he’s talking about.

Admits that he’d be willing to ‘clean you up’, should you find that arousing.

Regards you the same, but does find himself staying closer to you than normal, for fear the other vampires and night creatures around you will find your scent so enticing and try to take what’s his.

Challenges anyone who looks your way longer than five seconds. Partly as a means to protect his claim over you, but mainly because he rather enjoys the combat practice.

[endlessthxxghts]

Time of The Month

New boyfriend!Frankie Morales x afab!gn!reader

Summary: You had a date planned tonight, but your monthly visitor makes an early appearance, wreaking bloody havoc on your plans. W/C: 1k (wow, I'm sticking to my celebration rules for once?) Content warnings: Pics are for aesthetic purposes only!! Mature content, but purely fluff and comfort! Mention of reader having period, but no use of any pronouns or physical or feminine descriptors. Santi gets mentioned! Frankie calls you "cariño" and "baby." Some kissing. Honestly, I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed anything. BLOG RULES MAKE THIS 18+! MDNI.

A/N: This is my response to this request made by @sawymredfox in regard to my 1k follower celebration! I hope this gives you all the fluff and comfort you were hoping for!🥹 Also, shoutout to @javierpena-inatacvest for picking out the pictures above — it matches the comfort vibe perfectly. Thank you, bestie, I love you.💚 Anywho, I hope you enjoy. I'd love to hear what ya guys think. All my love. Xx

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

You and Frankie have been seeing each other, officially, for a few months now. And even though you two were friends for a little bit of time before that, there was still a charge of attraction then. So, really, your entire relationship started in the talking stage. So, yeah, your guys’ relationship is relatively new, which is why he’s shaking like a leaf at the prospect of letting himself into your home without you giving him the approval to do so—even if you told him so many times before that it was okay. But when you didn’t answer your phone for the third time in a row, he knew something was off, especially since you two had a little date planned in a few hours. 

Putting in the code to your garage—no, he doesn’t have a key…yet—he makes his way through, hitting the button inside to watch it fall shut before he actually enters your home. He’s met with complete silence: all lights off, the television off, no sign of life anywhere. 

He calls out your name, voice filled with anxiety. A beat passes, and no answer. He walks deeper inside, slowly making his way to the living room. “Cariño?” He calls out. Still, no answer. He really doesn’t want to invade your privacy like this, but part of him can’t just sit in the unknown. Not when his partner is the most communicative person he’s ever met in his life. No, something is really wrong. 

He makes his way to your bedroom. The door is shut, but not all the way—enough for Frankie to see your dimly lit space and smell a plethora of essential oils coming from your room. He gives your door a slight knock before entering, and the view he’s met with sends him in absolute shambles. You’re curled up in your bed, fetal position, cocooned in a thick blanket, and your arms are wrapped around something—holding it tight to your lower belly. A heating pad, he thinks. 

Your bedside table houses a glass of water, some painkillers, and some chocolate. Then, it clicks. 

You’re on your period. 

It’s not like Frankie has never experienced a person being on their period before, and it’s not like he hasn’t seen you on your period before (just last month—duh!). But he has never seen you like this. So weak and fragile. So in pain. God, he hates seeing you in any kind of pain. He would take it all away if he could. 

The only reason he’s nervous is because he knows every person who gets their period is different; their needs are different. Unique. Some prefer the warm embrace of another at all times, others prefer complete solitude. Frankie was still learning what you were like during your time of the month, and he just wants to be as accommodating as possible for you. He doesn’t want to make you upset, ever, and definitely not when you’re in such a vulnerable state—ready to either cry or rip him a new asshole. Whatever he would have to experience, though, he would endure it, for you. 

Scooting closer to the side of the bed you’re laying on, he slowly kneels, his broad hand feeling your forehead. Warm and a slight layer of sweat from your cocoon and your heat pack. You stir at his touch. “Cariño,” he whispers, trying to get you aware of his presence. 

Your eyebrows furrow, a little pout forming, not wanting to wake up. Frankie softly laughs to himself. He brings his face closer to yours, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Baby,” he says a little louder this time, still unbelievably gentle. 

One eye slowly peels open, the other following suit. “Frankie?” you say with uncertainty, your voice thick with sleep. Your hand leaves its hold on your heat pack to rub the fatigue out of your eyes. 

“Hi, honey,” he whispers, his thumb mindlessly caressing your face wherever he can reach. 

“B-baby, what are you doing here? I-” you gasp. “Oh, fuck! Baby!” You immediately rip the blanket off of you, scrambling to get yourself to sit up. “Baby, our date! What time is it? I must’ve fallen asleep- I- I’m sor-”

Standing a little taller now on one knee, Frankie stands between your legs, both his hands finding their homes on your cheeks, pulling you to look at him—to ground you. He kisses your nose, a soft say of your name to get your attention. 

“Cariño, breathe, it’s okay, we’re okay,” he says softly. “We planned for 7, baby, it’s 5:30.”

He feels your body start to relax, a soft sigh of relief fanning his cheeks. “Oh,” you whisper.

“The question is, though,” he asks, one hand leaving your cheek to rest across your lower belly. “Do you feel okay enough to even leave the house?”

You track his hand before you meet his eyes. “...not really,” you admit. 

“That’s oka-”

Cutting him off with a thick sigh, “I’m so sorry, baby, I just ruined tonight. My period has been wonky lately. I was supposed to start tomorrow, but it ended up being a murder scene a few hours ago, and I’ve been in pain ever since. I didn’t even realize how hard I knocked out-”

He pulls your face into his, your lips meeting each other in a soft embrace, stopping your brain from the 5k marathon it was currently running. He pulls away, your cheeks completely hot under his gaze, Frankie mirroring your bashfulness. “I- I’m sorry, I just-” he lets out a breathy laugh. “I don’t need you overthinking with me, cariño. I promise it’s okay. As long as I’m with you, I really don’t care what we’re doing. Okay?”

“Okay,” you respond, eyes tearing up at how sweet your boyfriend is. 

“I just want you. I just need you. Nothing else,” he angles your head down to kiss your forehead. “Now what’s my baby craving? I’ll go get it.”

“No-” you immediately reply, clearing your throat to suppress your eager response. “No… just. I don’t want you to leave me.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his kneeling form flush against your sitting one. 

“Okay, baby. I’ll just get it delivered then. Pretty sure Santi isn’t doing anything besides being an asshole,” he says, laughing into your neck. “Wanna bother him?”

“Fuck yeah,” you laugh. Frankie beams at the sound. 

“¿Qué quieres comer?” What do you want to eat? 

“Mmm, can we get…” you trail off, a little shy to indulge. He’s probably hungry and wanting a real meal like what your original plan was for, but here you are, craving nothing but junk and snacks to satiate you tonight. 

“Hm? Fries and a chocolate frosty? You want pickles, too, huh? Maybe some mashed potatoes?”

Oh my God. You’re going to fucking marry this man. 

“…yes.” 

Frankie pulls away from you with a smirk, reaching for his phone to dial up Santi. 

Huh. Maybe he already does know you—especially during this time of the month. 

End note - I hope this was okay!🥹 There are a few more requests for me to do as part of my celebration!! I'm sorry if it seems like I'm dragging them out lol! Not my intention at all, just trying to balance my excitement with the neediness of school😩 lolol but anyway, I love you all SO MUCH thank you for your endless love.💚