#like i fell asleep without turning my buzz buzz toy off

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 8 | Tate Langdon x Reader

Day 8: mommy kink

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+, grinding, praising, slight degrading, overstimulation,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I like when you do that.’’ 

‘’Do what?’’ 

‘’Fix my hair when it gets in my face. Run your hand down my back when I’m laying down. Make sure I ate today,’’ he explained as you rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held hands on the way home, sensing his anxiety after a long day. You had a knack for knowing exactly what he needed. ‘’Take care of me.’’ 

‘’I just love you. People take care of the ones they love,’’ you said simply. 

Tate looked down at the sidewalk, his old converses suddenly very interesting to look at. ‘’I’ve never had anyone taking care of me before,’’ he admitted, feeling a lump of sadness settling in his stomach. 

His words made your heart ache. It was rare Tate would bring up his home life, preferring to escape it than bother you with his problems, but you knew Constance never really took good care of Tate — or any of her children. She was a terrible and neglectful mother, blaming the end of her acting career on him when her failure came from herself. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it when you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you squeezed his hand and walked the rest of the way to your house in silence. 

*

A few days later, you were watching a movie in your bed when your phone buzzed with a message from Tate. He hadn’t been able to come over today because Constance had invited her new boyfriend for dinner and wanted everyone to be there. 

From Tate: Can I come over? I’m already outside… 

Pushing your blanket off your body, you paused your movie and went downstairs, opening the door instead of texting him back. 

You found him sitting on your porch with his hands covering his face, looking like he had been there for a few minutes. His eyes were a bit red, matching his sore-bitten lips. It was a stark contrast to the green of his sweater.

‘’I had an argument with my mom and her new toy,’’ Tate explained once he was in the comfort of your bedroom. He rubbed at his face, attempting to erase the traces of his emotions. 

You nodded, sitting on the bed beside him. ‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’ 

He shook his head, not wishing to repeat what had been said. ‘’Can you just hold me? Please.’’

Without a word, you opened your arms, and Tate nestled into your embrace, giving him the love and comfort Constance failed to give her son. 

‘’Whatever has been said at that dinner, just know that your mother is wrong,’’ you spoke softly after a moment, your head resting on top of his as he held you tight. ‘’You’re loved and wanted and you didn't ruin her life, okay? Not you or Addie.’’ 

He sniffled and nodded against your chest. ‘’I love you too.’’ 

After a moment, his hold loosened, slowly calming down…and undoubtedly noticing the absence of a bra through your shirt. Lucky boy. You fought a smile, having not considered your attire when you went downstairs to get the door. 

‘’Do you feel comfortable like this?’’ you asked, breaking the silence.

Tate smiled smugly against your shirt, nodding. ‘’Very. They’re so soft and comfortable. I wish I could fall asleep like that at night.’’  

‘’Do you want me to take my shirt off?’’ you whispered, taking him by surprise. 

He nodded again, detaching himself from you so you could take off your shirt and fell back against your pillows in a more comfortable position. 

When you first suggested it, you didn’t think it would take a sexual turn, but Tate’s mouth began kissing at your breasts while his hands were massaging and kneading, fingers digging into soft flesh. God, he loved your tits. 

You would be lying if you said this wasn’t pleasurable. Tate was gentle and loving with his touches and kisses, savoring the moment. Your hand naturally found its way to his hair, running through his blond strands and encouraging him to keep going. 

Then, you began feeling something press against your thigh. 

‘’Not my fault. I can’t control what my dick does.’’

You bit back a laugh. ‘’Do you want me to take care of it?’’ Your hand wandered between your bodies to rub his hardening cock over his pants. 

Tate whimpered and pushed into your touch. ‘’Please.’’ 

He lifted his head from your chest, his eyes still red but no longer teary, and you motioned to take your spot and lay against your pillows.

‘’Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,’’ you promised, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss. ‘’I’m gonna make you feel so good, Tate. So good you’re gonna forget about tonight.’’

That’s exactly what he needed.

With your help, Tate discarded his pants and boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. It must not have felt good straining against his stiff jeans. 

‘’Does that feel good, baby?’’ you asked, slowly running one finger over his sensitive length, teasing him.

He nodded, a shaky breath slipping from his lips. ‘’Y-yes.’’

You did it again, this time ending your stroke by brushing your thumb over the head. 

Tate whimpered, his hips jerking upwards and causing his sweater to ride up his stomach, flashing a trail of light blond hair. You leaned down to kiss it. 

‘’Such a good boy,’’ you praised, continuing to jerk him with your delicate hand. 

You could jerk him off until he spilled, but you decided to have some fun and try something else. Withdrawing your hand, Tate started sitting up. 

‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, sounding alarmed. 

‘’I’m not going anywhere,’’ you reassured, caressing his thigh. ‘’Don’t worry.’’ 

Nodding, he settled back and watched you move, licking his lips as you removed your pajama bottoms and underwear. His deep brown eyes gave your body a look over, loving everything he was seeing. The natural fall of your breasts and the reddish-mauve mark his mouth left behind, the tiny mole right below your navel that no one but him had noticed, the scar on your calf from when you shaved and accidentally cut yourself. 

‘’You’re so pretty, Mommy. Can I have a kiss?’’ 

It was so nicely asked, you couldn’t deny him. 

You swung a leg over to straddle him, your hands rubbing his hips as his thick cock rested against his stomach, hard and leaking at the tip. The sight almost made the arousal between your legs drip. Your eyes met Tate's as you rose up on your knees, but instead of sinking down on his cock, you lowered yourself on the length and grinded your slick folds along it.

He moaned from the slightest bit of friction, feeling your pussy sliding languidly along his cock.

 A smirk drew across your lips, moving torturously slow. 

Tate whimpered your name, his voice laced with frustration and desire. 

‘’What is it, baby? Is this not what you wanted?’’ you asked coyly, the sound of your arousal mixing with his pre-cum filling the room. 

You saw his eyes dart down to where your genitals were touching, rubbing together. ‘’Mommy, plea-please,’’ he whined, his cock twitching and about to burst. 

You knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him — yet. 

‘’Are you close, baby?’’ 

He closed his eyes and gripped the sheets as his stomach spasmed. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I wanna cum.’’ 

‘’Don’t hold back, baby, you can cum.’’

Ropes and ropes of white cum then spilled onto Tate's smooth stomach, his climax hitting, but you didn’t stop like he thought you would. No. You decided to push his limits and tease him until he couldn’t take it, watching his hips lifting off the bed as his orgasm came again and again, ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and adding to the mess. You were surprised he could still cum like that. 

‘’Can't cum anymore. So sensitive,’’ he said with tear-stained cheeks, whimpering through his orgasm and a little after it was done.

‘’You want me to stop?’’

‘’Please.’’ 

You caressed his cheek, wiping some of the tears. ‘’But I haven’t put it in yet...’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @Idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt

[domthedevil]

hihi!! may i ask for some sub lucifer? an afab reader always used to top the shit out of lucifer in the devildom, and now that she's gone, pridey mcprideface is being driven up the WALL with horniness. a package ends up on the doorstep of hol on his birthday housing a generously realistic adjustable fleshlight, and lucifer reads the note from her in ecstasy.

he doesn't realize there's an aggressive vibrator or a soggy lubricant function tied to pact magic yet..

Your brain:

I absolutely loved this, yes thank you please comeback again djdkkalc. Its a bit of a quickie and I did change some things but I hope you enjoy!

Sounds Like You Miss Me

Lucifer x afab!MC

Warnings: masturbation, sex toys,

Another long day at work, another long day at home, and another long night without you by his side. Lucifer’s stress was beginning to weigh on his shoulders. He missed the long nights of being dominated by you. The way you made him call you master, or when you teased him too far, he missed letting himself go after a long day. You going back to the human realm made him miserable.

Coming home late one night, he found a neglected Akuzon package sitting by the front door. Sighing, thinking it was something Levi was probably dying to have, the eldest brother picked up the box and made his way to his room. Everyone was already asleep so he’d keep the box in his room for now. Mammon hopefully wouldn’t feel bold enough to steal it while it remained in the eldest’s room.

Throwing his coat and tie to the side, Lucifer sat at his desk with a tired slump. A small buzz in his pocket startled him. Not sure what to expect at this hour, he slowly took out his phone. But his mood instantly improved when he saw a text from you.

“Did you get my gift?”

Gift?

Lucifer grabbed the package he’d brought in and read the shipping label. Addressed to him.

“I’m about to open it.” He messaged you back.

Using a letter opener, he cut the thin tape holding the box closed. Rummaging a moment Lucifer found your “gift”. His breath hitch in his throat as he pulled out a rather intimidating flesh light. Grabbing his DDD he frantically began typing.

“What is this exactly?”

“I had something made for us. I thought maybe my good boy missed me a little.”

“Hmph. Good boy? Never heard of him.”

He smiled as he texted with you. The exchange felt like you were right here with him. Like he was just waiting for you to come home and treat him how he deserves to be treated. What he really missed was holding you. Kissing you softly throughout the day. But soon your texts grew more lewd. You teased him. Telling him how much you missed seeing his face twist when he enters you. Or how he moans extra loud when you nibble a spot juuuust beneath his ear. Lucifer in turn played back.

Not realizing how excited he was getting, Lucifer began eyeing the toy you had sent him. Though a little embarrassing, it was oh so tempting.

“Tell me about this...gift.”

“Well...it’s suppose to feel like me.

You should let me know what you think.”

Your second text made his cock twitch. Putting his phone down, he walked away from his desk a moment, removing his belt and his gloves. Trying to do something other than give in to the gift you shamelessly sent him. What if his brothers had gotten hold of this?

Sitting back down at his desk, the top buttons on his shirt came undone as he rubbed at his chest. He was getting warmer, more curious about this toy that was going to feel like you. Palming at himself through his trousers, Lucifer let out a low moan. Maybe he did miss you more than he thought. Slipping his trousers down, Lucifer stroked at himself slowly. He wondered if you’d been touching yourself too. How much your body missed being wrapped around his cock. Did it miss him as much as he missed being under your command?

A single buzz from his DDD broke his concentration.

“Call me...I’ll teach you how to use it.”

How to use it? Lucifer was smart enough to know how to use a sex toy as basic as this. Picking it up, he admired the soft fleshy end of the sleeve. He licked his lips as he noticed some resemblance. But all it did was make him miss your sweet walls around him. Precariously he pressed his tip against the entrance, letting the texture of the folds on the outside tease his shaft before entering the toy. Immediately his phone rang.

“I told you to call me.” Suddenly the toy slipped from Lucifer’s fingers and sank on his dick. Fully squeezing his entire member. “Do you like your toy?”

Lucifer whined at the sudden, pleasurable sensation. The toy seemed wet and slick inside, making Lucifer’s hips shake.

“Hmph, it’s seems to like me. What is this MC?”

“Like I said...a gift.” Lucifer thought he heard a hint of heavy breathing from you. “You must have really missed me to use a toy like this. How cute.”

“You sent it to me...” his dark chuckle was soon interrupted.

Lucifer’s hips jerked as the toy began to slowly move itself up and down his shaft. He couldn’t believe he fell for some enchanted toy. But it felt amazing. The ridges and smooth cushions inside this toy reminded him of you. The sensation almost too realistic. It’s movements were slow but erratic, almost random.

“Sounds like someone really missed me.” Your small laugh over the phone caught his attention again. His moans had been low and breathy, but as the toy picked up speed his voice groaned and sighed heavier.

“Well...you certainly made an impression here.”

“You mean I tamed you? How cute.”

“Hmph. Don’t be so fooli-hnnng!” The walls in the toy tightened around him. Lucifer went to grab the toy to slow it’s pace, but he was met with a strange but familiar force.

“No touching.”

The sweet bondage of your shared pact kept his hand from moving any further. Forcing his hand to his side as the other was left clinging to the phone. The only part of his body that seemed to be able to move was his hips. A low whine slipped through his gritted teeth.

“Good Boy.”

The toy moved at a merciless pace as you listened to him whimper and moan into the phone. It became moist with precum, helping his cock glide and and out of it easily. Perhaps a lot of precum as he felt extremely wet and warm inside this enchanted toy. Your breathing was labored, Lucifer noticed. You must be touching yourself. He thought about your wet heat sucking him in just like this as he began to reach his limit.

“MC...Im going to come.” He tried to hold back any embarrassing noises as he reached the edge.

“So soon? How pathetic. You’ll have to use this toy to train yourself again. I’ll be back eventually...and you’re going to be in for it.”

“Y-yes MC. I’ll train. Just let me come.”

“Shhh...okay. For being such a good boy you can come for me.”

“Th-thank you.” He mumbled his gratitude despite the burning pride he wished to uphold. The sudden release with your permission took his breath away a moment. He even heard your own breath hitch in your throat. It took a moment to catch his breath. Completely taken back by how quick he came and how fast you were able to get him off.

“Mmmm...I’m glad I put this together. I’ll be honest with you Lucifer. That’s not just an enchanted sex toy...”

“I saw. It was made to feel like you. Very realistic.”

“Actually...it’s an exclusive portal, just for you. Whenever I give you permission, you can fuck me through this. If you earn it that is.”

Lucifer sat dazed a moment. That’s why it felt so good. He’d missed the feeling of you so much he must have underestimated how badly he needed to give himself some release.

“I have to say you have impeccable taste in gift giving.”

“I knew you’d like it....I miss you.”

“...I miss you too.”

[frostedfaves]

Facetime

Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha helps you fall asleep while she’s away from home.

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!! this is not a joke!!!! get blocked if you want!!), kinda subby reader, phone sex, edging, sex toy use, fingering, squirting, dirty talk (lemme know if I missed anything!)

A/N: I had this saved in my drafts to post once I finished the Haunt series but I couldn’t resist giving camz the fic she inspired for her birthday! happy birthday to one of the coolest wandanat enthusiasts and the queen of writing. everyone say thank you to @slut-for-nat (and part 13 of Repercussions!!!), and feel free to follow her and support the amazing fics she has. anyway, can’t wait to hear what you think!

-

On the 28th floor of the tower, hidden behind the locked door of a dark bedroom, was you. A restless version of yourself, one might say. The air under the blanket was too warm, and whisking it away aggressively only brought a frigid breeze. You knew what (or who) was missing, and she was currently two time zones away.

Natasha insisted that you could text or call while she was away, knowing you didn’t sleep so well without her now that you’ve been sharing a bed for two years, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bother her. Apparently she knew this too, because your phone suddenly began ringing on the nightstand.

“Nat, it’s after midnight,” you scolded lightly as the connecting screen was replaced with your girlfriend’s lovely face. “You have that conference in the morning. Why are you still awake?”

“Because it’s after 2AM for you, and I had a feeling you weren’t sleeping,” she teased.

“I guess, but still…”

Whatever words you planned to finish your sentence with disappeared as Natasha placed her phone on the nightstand, removed her robe on camera and began applying lotion to her skin. You watched her rub the lotion around her neck and past her chest to her stomach, and it was then as she turned and bent over to moisturize her legs that you realized you weren’t breathing.

“Baby?”

You blinked as you realized Natasha was holding the phone again, and you slowly exhaled everything you’d been accidentally holding in for the past minute or so.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You frown a bit when you notice the smirk growing on her lips. “Why are you making that face?”

“Because I think I know why you can’t sleep. Turn on the light.”

“Isn’t this going to do the opposite of what you want?” you ask as you lean over and grab the remote for the overhead lighting, blinking a bit as your vision adjusts. “Now what?”

“Take off that shirt and those shorts so I can see your beautiful body, detka.”

You mirrored her action of propping up your phone against the bedside lamp, ripping off your shirt and smiling when you noticed Natasha biting her lip as she watched you slowly strip away your shorts. You were just about to grab your phone again when she stopped you.

“Panties too.”

“Like this?” you asked as you moved at a snail’s pace with your thumbs hooked into the waistband of your underwear. Even though you were anxious to see what she was up to, you couldn’t help taking the opportunity to tease her while she couldn’t do anything about it. Or so you thought.

“Don’t be cute, dorogaya,” she scolded with a contradicting smile. “Grab my favorite from the drawer and prop me on the bed where I can see you.”

You grabbed the sleek black wand she was referring to and hurried across the room, dropping it next to the pillows before you bunched up the blankets and placed your phone in the middle of the makeshift phone stand. Once you climbed onto the bed and positioned yourself against the pillows, you spread your legs to give her a good view.

“Good girl,” she praised, and you noticed her eyes were no longer focused on yours. “Lowest speed, malyshka.”

You turned it on and set it to the lowest speed, jolting a bit as the head made contact with your clit and releasing a low moan when you applied more pressure. Your eyes closed as your head dropped back against the headboard, letting yourself get so lost in the teasing vibrations that you missed the quiet rustling coming from Natasha’s end.

“Look at me, detka.” You opened your eyes and raised your head to see your girlfriend in the same position as you, brushing against her own clit with her fingers. “Turn up the speed.”

Your hips bucked slightly against the wand when you pressed the button, and your free hand moved up to massage one of your nipples as you watched Natasha. She was slow in her movements of circling the bundle of nerves, and you couldn’t help swallowing harshly when you noticed her dip a finger inside herself, slowly followed by another.

“You like watching me fuck myself, don’t you?”

“So much,” you breathed as you watched her hips start rolling to meet the thrusts of her fingers.

“I bet not being able to touch me is killing you.” She kept an incredible poker face as she sped up her movements. “You want to see me cum, detka?”

“Yes, please,” you begged with a moan as you began to feel the familiar pressure building. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“You’re gonna cum already?” you heard her ask as your eyelids fluttered closed. “Not yet, detka. Turn it off.”

You whined loudly in protest but obliged, opening your eyes again as you turned off the wand and looked at her with what you hoped was a convincing pout. The ache between your legs was insisting on being taken care of, especially now that you were helplessly watching Natasha bring herself over the edge.

“Fuck,” she cried out with her head thrown back, breathing heavily as she slowed her movements but kept fingering herself. “You should really try that...it’s amazing.”

“Baby!” you whined again and she chuckled.

“Okay, okay. Why don’t you finger yourself, too?”

You dropped the wand from your dominant hand and slid two fingers into your mouth and wet them with your tongue, removing them just as slowly with a wink that had the redhead woman’s hips jolting a bit. A bit of your cockiness disappeared as you slipped inside yourself and began feeling needy all over again.

“That’s it, detka,” Natasha praised you with a grunt as she watched you mirror her actions and listened to your moans. “Spread your legs a bit more. Let me see all of you.”

You spread your legs and released a shuddering moan as the tips of your fingers met a spot inside of you that Natasha was an expert at reaching when she was there. Her hums and gasps were background noises to your own whines and moans, along with the lewd sounds of your fingers dipping in and out of your core at a rapid pace.

“Please baby,” you begged breathlessly.

“Please what?”

“Let me cum this time, please,” you gasped out as you felt yourself racing toward the peak you denied yourself earlier.

“Not yet, detka. Slow down.”

“You’re killing me here,” you huffed as you slowed the movement of your fingers, feeling your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

“I know what I’m doing, trust me,” she told you, her chuckle turning into a quiet moan. “Grab your wand again and turn it as high as you can, and you can finger yourself as fast as you’d like.”

You picked up the wand eagerly as you caught a glimpse of Natasha continuing to finger herself while she watched you, and you turned it onto the second highest speed, crying out when it made contact with your clit again. Her encouraging words and soft moans filled your ears as you began bucking your hips to match the speed of your fingers, and a new feeling accompanied the building pressure.

“Baby...I think I’m gonna...fuck!”

Your walls began to clamp down on your fingers so hard that you could barely move them, and you screamed as you squirted on the bed. The wand buzzed loudly as it fell onto the mattress, and you scrambled to move it away from your sensitive core with wet and shaky fingers as you gasped for air. Once the toy was off completely, you dropped back against the pillows and closed your eyes as you endured the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Did I kill you, detka?” Natasha teased with a laugh as you groaned loudly.

“Probably.”

“Be a good girl and go to the bathroom for me, please?”

“Give me a second,” you answered quietly, lying there for another few seconds before sitting up with an even louder groan. “I feel old.”

“And sleepy?” she asked in a hopeful tone and you laughed.

“I probably won’t wake up again until you come home,” you quipped as you stretched.

“Then you’ll be well-rested for round two.”

-

Tags: @littlegasps @peggycarter-steverogers @cordeliaswhore @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @trikruismybitch @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @messuhp @leximills2004 @honeyvenable 

[tiffdawg]

Your Heart is My Home | A Javier Peña x Reader Oneshot

Gif: @javier-pena​

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.4k

Rated: E  | Warnings: NSFW – explicit sexual content, masturbation (f), use of a vibrator/sex toy, breathplay, dirty talk, aftercare. Rough sex with a soft, tired Javi. 18+ only.

A/N: Look, I don’t even like Valentine’s day, but I love all of you so here’s a little sweet treat. Everyone say thank you to the lovely anon who requested HCs for Javi (consensually) walking in on you. Safe to say, this one got away from me. 

Read on AO3 | My Masterlist

... . ...

Your Heart is My Home

It wasn’t his original plan, but as Javier left the embassy well past midnight — again — he steered right out of the employee parking lot toward your place instead of heading to his own empty apartment. He was dead on his feet but after the day he had, he realized that all he wanted to do was crawl into bed next to you. Just as he had practically every night since he met you. In the past he might’ve sought out a bottle or a brothel, but lately the warmth and comfort of your embrace was all he craved.

With the spare key to your apartment that hung next to his own, Javier opened your front door as quietly as possible, mindful of the old hinges that creaked past a certain point. He kept telling himself he’d fix that for you on his next day off from work, but those were few and far in between. With light footsteps he toed off his boots and nestled them next to yours on the shoe rack and his leather jacket found its usual hook just above yours. The more he thought about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent the night at his own apartment. Like his things, Javier seemed to have a home there with you.

He didn’t even startle at that thought. It was just… true. 

Instead, the tension in his shoulders seemed to dissipate the more the notion settled within him. As he exhaled the stress of another bad day, the sweet, vanilla scent of home replaced it with something much more comforting.

Until a quiet buzzing noise drifted to his ears and disrupted the peace. “What the fuck is that?” he mumbled to himself, brows pinching in confusion. Socked feet padded across the old hardwood floors as he moved toward your bedroom. Only then did he notice the dim light seeping out from under the door. He pushed it open gently on the off chance you were asleep.

Javier’s eyes shot open when he realized you were wide awake.

With the silky sheets thrown back, you were a sight to behold in the flickering candlelight, sprawled out on the bed wearing nothing but lacy pink lingerie dotted with red hearts. Mind overcome by a lusty haze, he moved to the edge of the bed without thinking and gazed down at your angelic form. His mouth went dry when he noticed your panties pushed to the side as you fucked yourself with a vibrator. It was small and discreet and got the job done when you needed it. He’d seen it before but swore you wouldn’t need it as long as he was around.

“You’re finally home,” you said, acknowledging his presence. 

“You should be asleep.” He’d aimed for chastising, but his amusement was evident in his tone.

“I tried to wait for you,” you cooed, staring up at him with glossy, half-lidded eyes. “I’ve hardly seen you all week and I needed you.”

“My poor baby,” he consoled, squeezing your thigh with a firm hand. “Was this pussy aching for me?” With pouty lips you nodded. He smirked when he realized you were still pumping the vibrator into you. In that moment, you were a desperate, unashamed little thing and he was the luckiest man alive. “Is that little toy satisfying you, cariño?”

You whined as you shook your head against the pillow, but he was already unbuckling his belt, the leather strap snapping as he pulled it out of the loops. “You need something bigger?”

“Yes, Javi,” you simpered.

“You need my big dick to stretch out that tight little cunt?” he teased, suddenly feeling much more awake and inclined to play with you than he was when he’d first walked through the front door. You moaned as your back arched off the bed. He stripped off his pants, leaving him in just a half-buttoned up pink shirt. He knelt on the bed in between your parted thighs and leaned over you, wrapping a hand around your neck. His fingers pressed against your pulse points in warning. “Answer me.”

“Oh, fuck yes!” you wailed. Your own hand circled his wrist, holding him in place. He squeezed and felt your ragged breath against his palm. His other hand slipped between your bodies to steal the toy from you. Without so much as a glance, he increased the speed as he expertly pumped it into you and rubbed that sweet spot he loved so much. The one that brought tears to your eyes and made a mess of the bedsheets.

Needing to taste you, he trailed hot, wet kisses across your flushed skin, slightly salty and shimmering, until he reached your breasts. Your tits looked so pretty covered in pink lace with the darker skin of your nipples just visible, teasing him. Mouthing you through the flimsy material, he sucked and bit at each one until both pebbled beneath the fabric. He reveled in the way your body responded to him. Only him.

As he took one nipple between his teeth and fucked you with the vibrator even faster, you cried out. “Right there, don’t stop!”

That was his cue to remove the vibrator from your core.

You groaned in frustration but he grinned when he saw your cum already dripping out of your fluttering hole. At least in the time he’d been there, you hadn’t even orgasmed yet. But his filthy girl was close for him. “What the hell?” you gasped. Your pleading eyes searched his for an answer he gave readily.

“You’re only allowed to cum on my cock tonight, cariño.”

You beamed at him, and his chest filled with a familiar mix of pride and admiration. “Then give it to me, Javi.” 

With a devilish smirk, he turned the speed up again before he wrapped your hand around the toy and placed the rounded head right on your clit. You hummed pleasantly at the vibrations. “Hold that right there for me. Can you do that?” You nodded eagerly. “Good girl,” Javier praised with a slap to the inside of your thigh and he parted your legs further.

Settling between your thighs, he gathered up your slick and stroked his hard cock to its full length, nearly there just from watching you. Grasping his base, he entered you in one slow push. He usually had to spend more time working you open, but you’d made sure you were wet and ready for him that night. He stilled when he was fully seated inside you and tried to steady his breathing. He could feel the vibrations from your toy and the new sensation threatened to overwhelm him.

“Oh, god,” you panted. Your hand slipped beneath his open collar and your nails dug into his shoulder and you held on for dear life. Javier hadn’t even started moving inside you yet. “It’s too much. I’m gonna cum.”

“Already?” he teased.

“Shut up,” you laughed even as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I feel so full. Fuck– I’m right there.”

“I can tell.” His voice strained as he struggled to hold on to his composure. The feel of your pussy pulsing around him as you neared your orgasm was nearly enough to send him over the edge. “Hold on, baby. Let me take care of you”

Without warning, he pulled out and snapped his hips against yours. Again. And again. You made breathy little moans and yelps that matched his every forward thrust that spurred him on. It wouldn’t take either of you long before you fell apart for the other. 

Javier glanced up at the sound of a sharp rapt on your shared wall. He cursed to himself when he realized it was your damn neighbors again. He was well aware of how they felt about him.

Annoyed, he changed his angle so every time his hips snapped against yours, the metal headboard hit the wall. You covered your mouth as you let out an uncharacteristically girlish giggle. But you grinned for him when you said, “fuck me harder, mi corazón.”

He covered your body with his, caging you in, and pounded into you. You cried out, a mix of his name, every curse you knew, and a string of desperate oh gods tied together with mewls of pleasure. It drove him fucking wild. Suddenly the only word you seemed to know was yes, yes, yes and he felt you clench down around him, felt you soaking his cock as you neared your peak.

You came hard and loud, reduced to a writhing mess beneath him and he smiled as he fucked you through it all. Javier was never far behind you. He pulled out at the last minute, groaning as he painted you with him cum. Coating your soft stomach and pretty tits with hot, sticky white ropes.

He was a sweaty mess, shirt sticking to his skin, hair damp on his forehead. He could hardly keep his eyes open. Could barely hold himself upright. But he knew you. He knew you didn’t want to wake up in a few hours like this. He’d promised — promised you and himself — that he’d always take care of you. So, he drug himself out of bed.

“Cariño, stay with me.” Your eyes blinked open and he helped you up and into the bathroom on shaky legs. He switched on the shower, testing the temperature of the water with an open palm before turning his attention to you.

“This is new.” Javier observed as he flicked open the hook holding your pink bra in place. He guided the straps down your arms and grimaced when he saw the mess he made on the pretty fabric. He tossed it aside with your panties to wash later.

“I brought it just for you, mi corazón. I wanted tonight to be special.” Confused, he tried to catch your eye, but you were half asleep on your feet. “And it was,” you said as you pressed a kiss to his cheek and ran your fingers through his damp hair. “It’s always special with you.”

With a quick peck on his lips, you hopped into the shower. After switching the sheets, Javier threw his shirt into the basket as well to worry about in the morning. He figured he’d start the laundry as soon as he woke up and have it in the dryer before he left for work. It’d make your life a little easier. 

He joined you in the shower, carefully washing both of your bodies with your sudsy lavender soap. Washing away the aftermath of your evening. Washing away the stress of his day. He was sated and relaxed and... as he looked at the dreamy smile on your face, he was happy. So fucking happy it felt unreal. He’d never expected to come home and find you like that, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Somehow, you were always just what he needed.

After toweling you off and earning a lilting laugh from you, Javier offered you the red satin nightgown that hung off a knob on your dresser drawer. The thought crossed his mind that if he’d left work at a decent hour, he would’ve come home to you wearing the slip of fabric for him. Like a perfect present to unwrap after a long day. Pushing down his frustration at himself, he led you back to bed with your hand in his, wanting to hold you through the night with the time he did have to give you. He blew out the candles you'd lit before slipping between the fresh sheets and pulling you toward him.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” You looked awake and alert now, eyes boring into his. He shifted so the two of you laid side by side facing each other. “What do you think about moving in here?” You let the question settle between you before you continued, ready to state your case. “You spend most nights here already and I­– I think we could make a home together.”

“I like that idea.” He twined your hands before kissing the tops of your knuckles, smiling against your skin. “Not sure your neighbors will.”

The two of you touched foreheads as you laughed until your shared mirth turned into a collective sigh. He felt the same relief you exhaled. Logically, living together made sense. But there was also something inside his chest, something well beyond logic, that had wanted that all along. Throwing an arm across his middle, you snuggled closer, seeking his warmth like you always did.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi,” you murmured into his neck just as you drifted off.

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head at himself. He’d completely overlooked the date, but you weren’t angry with him. That wasn’t how your relationship worked. He doubted you cared about the holiday any more than he did. And you always understood that his life revolved around his job. You accepted that. Accepted him. He’d never understand how he got so lucky.

“I love you,” he whispered against your temple, testing out those three little words he’d felt for so long for the first time.

“I know,” you sighed. “I love you too. Now rest, mi corazón. You earned it.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 

... . ...

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73​ @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses @mxsamwilson @themilkface @mylifeliterally @mskitty79 @rosiefridayrogersunday @perropascal @giselatropicana @roxypeanut @sarahjkl82-blog @kylerr @aerolanya @artsymaddie @linkpk88​ @antisocialshipper @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @toastytaurus @321-lets-go @stackedpaperbacks @kesskirata @gredandfeorgesgirl @lou-la-lou @1800-fight-me @helga1031 @ktmadden86 @lesbianlena @sxndythinkstoomuch @mtjoi @pedropascaldice @swimmingsloths @lovelyasfcuk​ @technicallykawaiisoul​ 

Javier Peña Tags: @thewayofthemandalorian @frogllady @nothernpunk @coni-martina @wander-lustbabe @triggerhappyflygirl @linsaybluthforlife @michaelgaryscottismydad @witchqraft @harrys-stan @valeecruz16 @hufflepuff-ophelia​ @captainjaspenor @bees-fart-too @nyasiaaaaa @kesskirata @lazybeeches @aleishabeck @leonieb @fvriosa @the-horny-virgin @fireproofmarta @radiowallet @januaryonlakestreet​ @callitdreamland​

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

Word count: 1,9K

Warning: angst, kinda messy writing, bad grammar

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

You were always a hopeful person. Trying to be positive no matter what. Seeing the good in people. Even in Loki.

You first met him in his glass cell in helicarier (a/n i have no idea how to spell it, it's that big flying thing in Avengers 1). You two talked and got to know eachother. He told you how his father lied to him, how Thanos tortured him and how he doesn't want to hurt anyone. You believed him. And promised him he will be okay.

Two years after the battle of New York you finally talked to your team mates. You made an entire power point presentation for Avengers to show them Loki is not evil anymore and they should at least give him a chance, like you did.

That's how you and Loki became close friends. Always spending time with the other one, talking about your interests, your cultures, books, movies, anything the both of you came up with.

You comforted him, when he had nightmares. He cuddled you when you watched horror movies and got scared.

He always came to you for advice and opinion and you were more than happy to help your best friend. He always hugged you afterwards as thanks.

Sometimes he even brought you a cake and some flowers, just because he 'felt like it'.

One rainy day he fall asleep on your lap in your room. As you played with his black silky hair you realized you don't view him as your best friend anymore. But as a crush. You felt a shy blush come up to your cheeks as you imagined how would it feel like to cuddle him whole night, to be held by him, kissed by him.

You caressed his cheek and hoped one day he would feel the same.

And as always, you became hopeful. You started to remember all those times he was very close with you, doing something only couples do (like the afore mentioned cuddling, falling asleep on your lap or even the freaking flowers) and hoping he is developing feelings for you.

You were wrong.

You remember that day clearly. It was nice and sunny outside. A perfect day for a walk in the park. You walked out from your room and started looking for Loki. You wanted to have a walk with him.

You heard some voices coming from the kitchen below. Including a velvety one you knew all too well.

You jumped down those 20 stairs. Voices got louder as you came closer. There was Loki and some woman in the kitchen. And nobody else. Your name fell from one of their mouth's.

Quiet as a mouse you stood behind the corner just outside the kitchen and listened.

"Don't tell me she's not annoying! She's practically your shadow and trails after you like a lost puppy. And not even a cute one!" the woman giggled. From her tone of voice you imagined her as a classical blond plastic fake gold digger. You expected Loki to stood up for you, like any good friend would.

He only chuckled. "You are right! She is always behind my back. So bothersome and clingy..." you heard gulping. Maybe they were drinking some alcohol. You prayed for him to be just drunk and not knowing what he's saying.

"So why do you keep her around so much?"

A moment of silence. "I don't really know. For fun, I suppose? She was only good for me to get out of prison. She's so naive to really think I am her friend it's hilarious!"

You couldn't breathe. You stood there like a statue. He was only manipulating you and playing with you. All this time.

Tears clouded your vision as you walked away from them. The whole world looked like a big grey blur to you.

You still went out. Better than stay in the same building with him. Sitting on a bench in the nearby park, listening to birds chirping and watching dogs play with their owners was somewhat comforting. The pain in your chest was still too big though. How could you trust someone who's a 'God of Mischief' or a 'Prince of Lies' of all people? He really did go out of his way to make you trust him, didn't he? All those gifts, hugs, hanging out, watching movies under one blanket. All of that was just him pretending. And you believed him.

You groaned and hid your face in your hands. You're friends with spies and trained soldiers, what if they're pretending just like him and they secretly love when you aren't with them? What if everytime you talk to them they secretly wish for you to shut up and leave? Paranoia and anxiety just won't leave you, will they?

"It will get better after high school they said," you stood up from the bench, "you will be more confident they said. My ass-" suddenly you tripped over a string and fell on your face. Your right cheek stung, your knees were scraped. As you were standing up a wet tongue started to lick your face. A golden retriever's way to greet you, apparently.

"Ollie, stop! I'm so sorry," the dog was yanked back by his leash. Ollie's owner held out his hand to help you stand up.

"It's okay. It's my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going," you dusted your clothes when you were finally on your legs. Ollie was jumping up and down, still trying to lick your face. Even through your emotional pain you couldn't resist and smiled.

"He's still an untrained pup, sorry if he's bothering," the unknown man was trying to calm him down once again, but you stopped him.

"He's not bothering," you bent down and scratched behind his ears. "Hi there little fella, aren't you one cute boy? Yes you are," you scratched and caressed his fur.

"He is cute, but quite handful. Still I wouldn't exchange him for anyone in the world."

"Anyone?" you asked.

"Yeah, you see I got him when I found out my partner cheated on me. I felt so betrayed I thought I'll never trust anyone else again," he said and sat down on the bench you were previously sitting on. "Sorry, I'm telling way too much than I should."

"No, it's okay. I know exactly how you felt. Something similair happened to me too," you looked away sadly and stopped scratching Ollie's fur. "That's why you got a dog? To replace that somebody who was previously in your life?"

He nodded. "At first I though I needed a pet to distract myself from the pain, but in reality all I needed was a life long friend who will never betray me. And what's better than a man's best friend?" he hugged his goldie and he licked his face.

You smiled. Maybe that's what you need. A loyal dog to keep you company. To give you emotional support through cuddles and to never leave you or lie to you. Unlike certain someone.

You chatted with him for few more minutes and then made your way to the nearest dog shelter.

*

The cutest little fluffy german shepherd was dozing off in your arms when you walked into your room. You naivly thought Loki will greet you and pretend to be nice again but he was nowhere to be found. Actually, none of the Avengers were nearby. 'That's okay' you thought. 'I'll at least be alone with this cute guy.'

You let him run around your bedroom, sniffing every corner of his new home, chewing on everything he could reach with his tiny snout. You threw him some of the squeeky toys you bought and watched him play. It lifted your mood, somewhat.

The dull ache from your chest didn't leave. Even when it got dark outside and your new companion dozed off in your lap. Soft laughter was coming from the party deck, which was quite far from your room so in reality it must've been much louder.

'So they returned, huh? Didn't even check on their supposed friend' you thought. Maybe you were right afterall. They never concidered you a friend.

Your phone started buzzing, a silly selfie of you and Loki lightened up the screen. 'What does he want? I don't wanna talk to him.'

You picked up. "Yeah?"

"Y/N!" hearing his voice nearly made you cry. "Thank Norns you finally picked up! Where are you?"

You squinted your eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

"I've been trying to reach you all afternoon! I couldn't find you anywhere and I have called you 5 times already. Are you okay?" he sounded worried. He really should've been voice actor.

"5 times? I didn't hear anything."

He groaned. "Yes, 5 damn times. You made me really sick with worry."

Liar.

"Whatever. I can do things even without you, you know."

"Why the attitude?" he asked a little less worried.

"You know what Loki? Do me a favour and leave me alone," you hung up sooner than your voice could crack. Silent tears streamed down your cheeks.

As you were standing up with the little pup in your hands and putting him in his bed Loki practically smashed down your door. You jumped back startled and nearly let go of your little friend who woke up and started barking.

"What the fuck Loki?!"

He looked at you, mix of fury and happiness in his eyes. "Okay, I don't know what I did that made you react like that to a simple 'where have you been the whole day' but you could've at least tell me you were going out. What if someone attacked you? And I wasn't there? What if-" he took a deep breath, anger leaving his eyes. "I'm just glad you are home and safe."

Liar.

Your puppy stopped barking and started wagging his tail, excited to have a new friend. He is just like you. Naive.

"Oh, and who is this little bundle of fur?" he reached out to pet his tiny head but you backed away.

"He's my new best friend. This is Rex."

Loki's face turned into confusion. "Darling, I thought that's my title," he laughed awkwardly.

You glared and hugged Rex to your chest. "Not anymore. Not after what I discovered about you."

"Discovered about me? What are you talking about?"

"Drop the act. I heard you. I heard you saying how I'm naive enough to think I'm your friend, how I'm bothersome and clingy and I was only good for you to get out of prison!" tears were flowing freely but you didn't care.

"Darling, what are yo-"

"I wasn't finished! I really thought you were honest with me. I thought all those times we hung out meant something to you! That you at least respect me. But no! You used me. You were pretending to be nice. All those times! And I believed you!" you started taking steps towards him, he was backing away.

"You misunderstood, I-"

"No! I don't want you to tell me anything! I'm not your plaything anymore! I grew a spine. And you can bet your ass I'm training Rex to bite you whenever you get close to me again!" his eyes started glistening but that must be just your imagination.

"Love, please let me ex-"

"Get lost Laufeyson," with those words you slammed your door in his face.

[honalele]

Morning Routine

The peaceful song of birds and the gentle wave of sunlight flooded into Michael’s small bedroom window as day broke his deep ocean-swelled sleep. He opened his eyes to the familiar wooden ceiling and watched the sky-blue painted ceiling fan circle slowly above him. The hypnotic effect it had made him want to stay in bed for the rest of the day, but there were things that needed to be done.

Michael sat up, but he paused and placed his face in his childhood yellow baby blanket. He’d been waking up with worse and worse headaches after the incident. The pain was like a dull buzz at the front of his forehead. It was bad in the morning, but it faded with the day. He pulled his face from the blanket and took a deep breath. He threw one leg over the side of the bed, and then the other.

He looked around the large accustomed room with all of his happy childhood memories scattered across the floor in forms of toys and trinkets. He stood up and sluggishly walked to the door. It opened to a massive hallway with big windows and lots of empty frames where family portraits used to be. Michael stuffed his hands in his pajama pants pockets and watched the floor as he walked into the foyer. The ceiling was so tall it could’ve touched the sky. The walls were so distant, they could have been separate countries. The floor was so empty, sometimes it felt like no one else lived in the house. Such a big place could make a person feel so small.

He made his way to the grand staircase and placed a hand on the beautifully finished railing before bouncing up the steps. Despite the complexity of the place, he’d spent nearly his entire life locked up here. At first his parents forced him to stay indoors against his rebellious will to venture out and see more of the world, but now he stayed on his own accord. The only time he went outside was to visit the garden in the backyard.

When he reached the second floor, Michael started for his parents’ bedroom. Tall windows lined the hallway, letting in all of the colors of the outdoors. As he came up to the door, he paused at the handle. His fingers were shaking. Michael noticed the dark panic that attempted to creep up on him in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes and took a long breath, forcing that feeling back into its dungeon deep down. He opened his eyes and saw that his hand was steady enough to open the door.

Unlike his room, his parents’ was simple, open, and clean like the rest of the house. There was just a bed and a chest. It was like the entire house was occupied by ghosts.

Michael silently closed the door behind him and quietly made his way to the bed where his father, Ranboo, laid sprawled out in all of the blankets, still asleep. Michael carefully went up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake.

His father’s eyes slowly opened, drowsy and glazed with sleep. Michael took a seat at the edge of the bed and waited for him to stretch and yawn until he was fully sat up. Dad looked around the room with that blank expression on his face before memory slowly started to fade back. Michael softly took his father’s hand and looked into his eyes.

“Good morning.” He said. Dad didn’t hold his gaze.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but who…?” His voice was as uncertain as his expression. Michael could tell that his dad was embarrassed about not being able to recognize the person sat in front of him.  

“I’m Michael. I’m your son.” He said. It took a moment for realization to settle across his father’s face.

“Right. I’m sorry I-”

“It’s ok, just breathe with me ok?” Michael interrupted his father’s anxious spiral. They held each other’s hands and breathed together. Michael told him where he was, hold old they were, their daily routine, and that they were the only members of the house.

“What’s in that?” Dad asked as he pointed to the chest that sat at the foot of the bed. Michael turned to look at it and paused before answering.

“It’s there if you want to open it, but you don’t have to.” Michael tried to sound unbiased, but he really didn’t want his dad to open the chest. He hated days that they went through the chest. He waited silently for his father’s response, the suspense wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

“No.” Dad answered softly after the long thoughtful silence. A wave of relief washed over Michael. At least today might be easier than the others.

The two sat in bed and talked for a while before deciding to head downstairs for breakfast. Dad continued to hold Michael’s hand as they went through the halls and down into the foyer.

“I remember that.” Dad said, looking up at the chandelier. “I paid one of my friends to build that. Flush or Fish or something.”

“Foolish?”

“Right. Foolish, yes.” His dad smiled. “He actually built this entire mansion. It took him a long time and it cost me a lot of gold to-” Dad cut himself off when he looked back to Michael, “but you probably know all of that, don’t you?” He said with an awkward smile. Michael swallowed the angst rising in his throat and pulled himself closer to his dad without a verbal response.

The two of them made it to the kitchen. It was big like everything else in the house. All of the windows faced the backyard where a beautiful garden full of flowers and sculptures could be seen. There was a big table in the center of the room with three chairs. Michael didn’t have the heart to throw out the third one. Luckily, his dad didn’t question the arrangement, instead he headed straight towards the cupboards.

“I may not have the best memory, but I do know how to make killer waffles.” He said cheerfully. “That is, unless we had them yesterday?” He turned around to ask Michael the cautious question. Michael shook his head in response and his Dad’s eyes filled with joy. “Great, get ready for the best waffles of your life.” He chirped. Michael sat at his chair and tried to hide his smile. They’d been having waffles for breakfast the past five days, but Michael wasn’t about to complain. His dad’s waffles really were the best.

Dad asked Michael to set the table while he prepared the food. It was almost like they were a normal family again, but the thought of happy normalcy made the pit of guilt in Michael’s stomach roll and ache, so he tried to set aside those feelings and just get through the day.

After his dad finished making the waffles, the two of them sat at the breakfast table and shared old stories with one another, even though it was mainly Michael telling the old stories and correcting his father on his.

“So what Tommy would do was; he’d go into either Phil or Techno’s house completely unannounced, and then all you’d hear were the sounds of dozens of chests being open.” Dad smiled the whole time he told the story. Michael hadn’t heard this one in a while and the way his dad talked about Tommy made him laugh.

“I can’t believe Mr. Innit used to do stuff like that.” Dad nearly choked on his orange juice at Michael’s comment.

“Do not call him ‘Mr. Innit’.” He said out of breath from laughter which made Michael burst out into laughter as well. The two continued to laugh until it naturally died down a few moments later. Dad smiled at Michael and for once, Michael felt safe.

But then his dad’s eyes shifted to the empty chair across the table. Confusion washed across his face as he looked at the chair.

“If it’s just the two of us, why the third chair?” He asked. Michael looked down at his plate and poked at some of the left over waffle bits with his fork.

“It’s just for guests.” He said. He hated lying to his dad, but they were having such a great time. He didn’t want it to be ruined. A moment of silence hung over them before Michael decided to break it.

“Want me to wash the dishes?” He asked as he stood from the table. Dad slowly pulled his gaze from the chair and nodded.

“Sure kiddo.” He handed Michael his empty plate and glass and Michael headed to the sink to wash them. As he cleared off the syrup and butter from the plates, he looked outside to the garden.

“It’s really nice outside, maybe we can water the flowers or something?” He suggested.

“That sounds like a great idea!” Dad called excitedly from the table.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I know my memory isn’t too great, but I feel like I haven’t been out of this house in ages. We should go somewhere and do something. Doesn’t Jack have a hotel?”

Crash.

Michael accidently dropped one of the plates. It fell to the ground and broke into several pieces that scattered across the tiled floor. Dad quickly leapt from his chair and raced across the kitchen to make sure that Michael was ok.

“I’m fine dad really, it was just an accident.” He tried to pull himself away from being examined like a toddler.

“Ok, sorry. I just don’t want you getting hurt.” Dad took a step back and then inspected the mess. “Looks like we’re going to need a broom and dustpan. Can you point me in the direction?”

“Yeah in that closet by the back door.” Michael tried to not sound too stressed, but his hands were starting to shake and he couldn’t keep himself from swaying.

While his dad searched for the cleaning supplies, Michael tried to remember his breathing exercises.  

Just one day. Just one normal day.

“Umm, so anyway, what do you think about my idea? You know, visiting the Big Jack Manifold hotel?” Dad called from the closet. Michael went deeper into his nervous sway.

“Jack doesn’t own the hotel anymore. Mr. In- er, Tommy got it back.” Michael answered.

“Oh really?” Dad’s surprised face emerged from the closet. “All the more reason to go see it then.” He smiled. Michael flashed a fake smile back and fiddled with his fingers. Venturing anywhere outside the grounds of the mansion was a bad idea in it of itself, visiting the hotel area specifically would be terrible.

“CaptainPuffy actually stopped by a few times. She said that your memory’s improving, but that it’ll be a while before you start remembering things on your own. I don’t think we should go anywhere outside the walls of the mansion until we see that improvement. A lot of things have changed since… since your memory got worse. I think going out there now would be too much for you.” Michael fought the urge to bite his nails. He hated lying. Then again, what he said wasn’t really a lie, it just wasn’t the whole truth.

“Ok, so we’ll stay here then I guess.” Dad walked towards him with the broom and dustpan in hand. He pointed to Michael with the dustpan. “You ok? You’re swaying.” He pointed out. Michael caught himself and stopped immediately.

“Yeah, just, loud noises.” He said and gestured to the shattered plate. Dad gave him an understanding nod and flipped the dustpan so that its handle was facing Michael. Michael took it and then knelt down to hold the pan in place as his dad swept up the debris.

“There we go. All clean.” He said proudly. Michael carefully stood with the pan full of glass. He gave dad directions to the bin and then dumped the poor plate’s remains inside.  

“Any words?” Dad asked. Michael flashed him a confused expression. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the life of this plate. Though I may not have known it for very long, I easily get emotionally attached to things. This plate was like a brother to me-”

“Shut up.” Michael sneered and closed the lid of the bin.

“What? Are my jokes not cracked enough for you?” Michael shook his head in disapproval and took the broom from his dad, then started making his way to the supplies closet.

“At least he went out with a bang.”

“Stop.”

“May he rest… in pieces.”

“I am going to put myself up for adoption.” Michael couldn’t keep himself from smiling. Even though his dad’s jokes were absolutely terrible, he found them endearing. He hadn’t seen his dad act like this in months.

Michael put away the broom and dustpan and closed the supply closet door. He looked to his dad whose gaze was focused on the window above the sink. He was standing casually with his hands in his pockets. His shoulders were relaxed and he wore a closed smile on his face. He looked peaceful and sure of himself for once. He looked happy. An emotion Michael hadn’t seen on his dad in a long time. It was like looking at a completely different person.

Dad’s face turned to Michael and he caught him staring.

“Is something wrong? You look sad.” He asked. Michael shook his head.

“No, you’re jokes are just so bad, they could bring people to tears.” Michael said. Dad scoffed and gestured for his son to come under his arm.

“Exactly. Tears of joy.” He said and gave Michael a side hug. Michael gagged at the stupid joke and hugged his dad back, extra tightly. “So,” Dad said, “how about that garden work you were talking about? Watering the flowers?” He asked. Michael nodded excitedly. “Alright then, go get some shoes on.” He said. Michael cheered and beelined it out of the kitchen.

His room was just down the hall. He’d be in and out in no time. He made sure to lock the door behind him, there were too many memories cluttered about his room. Any one of them could trigger his dad’s bad memories.

Michael raced to the closet, but it was nearly impossible to find anything under the piles and piles of clothes. He decided to change out of his pajama bottoms and put some denim overalls on instead. He was able to fine one sandal, but failed to find it’s partner. Eventually he gave up on the closet and ran over to his bed. He searched underneath for the red sneakers he’d worn a few days ago. He remembered kicking them off right before going to bed. He shoved an old board-game of Monopoly out of the way and spotted both of them. He quickly grabbed each and threw them on without bothering looking for socks. Then, he raced out of the room and into the foyer.

“Dad, I’m ready.” He called. There was no response. Michael started snapping his fingers impatiently and walked over to the kitchen. It was empty. Panic started to settle in as Michael ran over to the back door. Perhaps his dad had already gone outside. He was hit with fresh air, sweetened by the scent of all kinds of flowers. But when he looked out onto the butterfly filled landscape, dad was nowhere to be found.

Michael slowly stepped back into the house and closed the door. It wasn’t like dad knew his way around the mansion yet, maybe he got lost.

“Dad?” Michael called as he ran through the foyer once again. He passed the trading hall and ran through the library. He checked every room on the first floor, but there was still no sign of him.

Michael went back to the foyer and looked up at the looming grand staircase. He felt his hands start to shake, but his breathing exercises were the last thing on his mind. It was like his soul had left his body and he’d become a walking corpse. He took one shaking hand and placed it on the railing before dragging himself up the staircase, step by step.

When he got to the top, he could see that his parents’ bedroom door was three-quarters the way opened. Michael froze right where he stood. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to calm down. He’d done this plenty of times before. He practically knew the conversation by heart.

He shoved his still hands into his pockets and walked over to the open door. He used his shoulder to bump it open wide enough for him to enter he room. And there was dad. Facing the opposite wall. Sitting cross-legged on the floor. The chest was open. Items and photos from his past were sprawled out on all sides, like pieces from a broken plate. Michael slowly walked towards his dad.

“I came up here looking for shoes, but I got curious so…” His dad’s voice sounded like its usual distant self. Michael peeked over his dad’s shoulder. He was looking at an old photo of him and his husband.

“His name was Tubbo.” Michael said silently. Dad didn’t respond. Pain pierced Michael’s heart and he shifted his gaze up to the ceiling to avoid tears. It never got easier. He took another deep breath before walking up to his dad’s left side. He picked up a red and white checkered picnic blanket and made room for himself to sit next to his dad. Then he placed the picnic blanket so that it was covering them both.

Dad didn’t move or acknowledge his existence. He was staring intently at the photograph. His eyes were watery, and Michael could already see the fresh wounds developing under his eyes. Michael wasn’t sure how much his father was remembering right now, so he started to explain things in a low and gentle tone.

“That picture was taken when you guys first met in L’Manburg.” Still no response. This was usually how it went. Michael just had to keep talking about dad.

He spotted the flag in a crumpled ball on the floor and reached for it. “This was the flag.” He said as he fanned it out. Michael slowly slid pinched fingers into the corners of the flag and started to fold it properly. He set it on the floor next to him and picked up another old photo. Tommy was in this one. The three of them were exploring abandoned Pogtopia, a place that Michael had heard of, but never seen. Then, his father reached forward and picked up a black and yellow striped flyer. The Bee ‘N Boo. Michael had memories of its grand opening, but he hadn’t visited the place in years.

“That’s a flyer for the hotel you guys built. You were going to run it together and compete with Tommy’s.” Michael explained. He watched his dad flinch as a tear fell down his cheek. Michael searched the clutter until he found a small bottle of golden liquid. Attached to the cap was a cotton white cloth. He carefully opened the bottled and poured some of the sweet smelling liquid onto the fabric.

“Here.” He said and gently pressed the cloth against his father’s cheek. Dad reached up and took the cloth from Michael, silently whispering a thank you before scavenging through more of Tubbo’s old belongings.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing to an old Walkman. Michael’s heart cracked as he leaned over to pick it up. His dad used to listen to it all of the time. He’d burst into Michael’s room unannounced doing stupid dances and singing along to the lyrics of random love songs. Sometimes he’d share the headphones with Michael and they’d sit on his bed and listen to his favorite mixtapes together.

“That’s dad’s old Walkman. You gave it to him as a present. You were always giving him things.” Michael felt warm tears crawl down the sides of his cheeks. “He listened to it all the time.” Michael opened the machine and pulled out the playlist that had been left inside. It had a sticker that read, “Ranboo’s Recommended” written in sharpie. Michael put the tape back in the Walkman and placed it on the floor. He felt like a vulture, picking at all of these mementos of the past dragged out like the entails of a ghost. He swallowed a sore lump and brushed off some of the tears.

He watched his father pick up a small black box and open int. Inside wear a pair of wedding bands. Dad plucked one from the box and examined It closely. He was quiet for a while before turning to Michael.

“How did it happen?” He asked longingly. Michael looked to the floor as guilt stabbed his heart. He knew this was coming. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with his father.

“It was an accident.” He lied. “I ran away from home after an argument. I went to some cliffs far north. Dad found me, but it was raining and the edge of the cliff was slippery.” More half truths. Michael hated recounting the story this way, but he’d seen what telling the truth did to his father. If he were to even mention the man’s name, his father’s eyes would rolled over to a dark purple and he would start speaking in a scary language that Michael didn’t understand. He was never violent in that state, but he was a danger to himself what with the crying and clawing. Michael couldn’t watch his dad go through that again. Lying was the only way to get through this.

Dad reached over and took Michael’s hand.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He said in a reassuring tone despite the pain behind his eyes. Michael faked a small smile in response. Dad had no right to say that. He didn’t know the whole story. He didn’t know that Michael was a pawn in god’s rigged game of chess. That he played bait to the vengeful villain. Guilt tore him apart from the inside like a rabies-crazed dog, still, Michael gave his father a nod of acceptance in response to keep up the illusion.

His father held his gaze for a few moments longer before looking back to the clutter of memories on the floor around them.

“I may not remember all the things we did, but I remember him. I remember his voice. His smile. His eyes. His laugh. I just don’t-” Dad cut himself off as his voice finally broke and he started to cry. Michael gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I just don’t know how I could ever forget.” He said as his body writhed in pain from the tears he couldn’t hold back. Dad held the cloth up to his face, but some of the tears trickled onto his hand, causing him wince in more pain. All Michael could do was hold his other hand.

They would sit here like this for hours. Day by day. Remembering all of the things they used to do together as a family. Dad would cry, and Michael would do his best to take care of him. Then, after all of the tears they would pack up Tubbo’s belongings and place them gently back into the chest. Dad would say that he’s too tired to do anything and Michael would nod in sympathy. Dad would stay in bed for the rest of the day and Michael would go back down to the first floor, all alone.

He would spend the day cleaning and gardening. Sometimes people stopped by baring gifts and pitied expressions. Sometimes dad would leave his room only to ask, “where’s the bathroom?” or “do we have coffee?”. Sometimes they’d talk for a bit before dad wondered back up to his room like a confused zombie. The sun would go down and Michael would make sure his dad was asleep before heading to bed himself. Michael would sit at the edge of his bed and cry before pulling the yellow baby blanket close to his face and falling asleep. The next day he would wake up to the familiar dull buzz of his morning routine.

[honeesucker]

Iwaizumi Hajime as part of my Haikyuu boys after you text them *~spicy photos~* and then fall asleep... 

Word Count: 2,165

Content Warnings: Choking, swearing, dacryphilia, dubcon (can appear noncon but IwaxReader have previous safe word set up for safety), reader is asleep during penetration, overstimulation, double-penetration w/use of toy, Dom/sub themes, use of Daddy; all around we’re being grey-area debaucherous here - there’s aftercare though?

You didn’t hear the door open, or the duffle bag drop to the floor because you were in Iwaizumi and yours shared room, lounging on the bed in a Gudetama sleep short and tank top pajama set. Your chest rose and fell with your soft, deep breaths showing him you were indeed asleep, though even in your sleep you were teasing him (unintentionally, but try telling Iwaizumi that). 

Your legs were splayed open, the hem of one of the legs of your insanely short sleep shorts was riding up and sticking to your inner labia having become wedged during your movement in your sleep, this giving Iwaizumi a sweet little teasing view of your pussy. You didn’t hear him let out a groan from deep in his chest as he peeled off his work shirt, hook his thumbs into the top of his joggers and slide them down baring him to your sleeping form only in his dark grey briefs. He palmed his already hard cock through the front of his briefs, the friction sending jolts through his cock and only making the ache to bury all of him inside you that much worse.

How fucking dare you send those photos while he was at work and then fall asleep, and worst of all you knew he would’ve asked you to stay dressed for him until he got home – unfair because of how late it was – but it was just how you both worked together... but you had to be a brat and change into those damn pajamas, the apathetic face of the egg yolk staring at him from between your thighs. Fuck these shorts... Iwaizumi began to pull the fabric from your hips slowly, the silken cotton slipping from your body easily without much resistance. Iwaizumi froze when you gave a soft little hum in your sleep and shifted, but you only made it easier for him to grab you and pull you gently until your ass was lined up with the edge of the bed. He ran his large hand up your thighs, the goosebumps sprouting in the wake of his touch, ran his fingertips along your hips, along the curve of your tummy, up to the soft swell of your perfect breasts that he loved to abuse and leave bruised and sore. He thumbed over your nipples until the sensitive buds pebbled underneath your soft sleep tank, he gently pulled the front of your shirt down exposing your breasts to the cool air of your bedroom. You gave a soft moan in your sleep at the sweet ghosting ministrations of his skilled fingers, and he smirked, you were so easy to read... your body so honest even unconscious.

Iwaizumi traced his fingers back down to your thighs until he parted your legs further and was greeted by the sight of your already glistening pussy, lips looking so soft, puffy and welcoming. He traced up your inner thighs and along the outside of your core until he slowly dipped into the sweet honey coating your skin. His first finger wasn’t met with any resistance and elicited a low, melodious moan from you again. Iwaizumi had his one finger hooked in you, pressing into your g-spot as his thumb rubbed lazy circles with a gentle pressure on your clit which had your silken walls fluttering around his digit and more juices collecting on his knuckles and your lips. He yanked his briefs off, stepping out of them and gave himself a few strokes using the hand wet with your slick. He bit into his bottom lip to keep from outright moaning just yet, running his thumb over the pearly bead of precum that gathered at his tip to help lube him up more before he was lining up and rubbing the thick head of his cock against your hole. With a quick snap of his hips, Iwaizumi pushed forward into you; the full length of his cock stretching you with a pleasant burn and the jolting sensation of him pushing into you jostling you in your sleep and you woke up startled and feeling someone inside of you, panicked. You started swinging your arms trying to hit whoever was on top of you until both your wrists were captured and pinned above your head, and you saw your boyfriend, muscles covered in a slight sheen of sweat as he leant over you.  

“H-Haji-fuck-Hajime!” You whimpered, fighting against his grip. “Baby p-please it hurts, fuck, what are you doing? Stop!” A fat stream of tears was running down your cheeks as your boyfriend kept his brutal pace, thrusting the full length of his cock in and out completely. You felt the tight coil of your first orgasm already building which only heated your cheeks with embarrassment that you were enjoying this.  

“Thought you could fucking get away with it, hm Y/N?” Iwaizumi grunted, punctuating his words with harsh thrusts that had his cockhead up against your cervix, sending jolts through your whole body. “Thought you could send those fucking photos while I was working and get away with it untouched?” Iwaizumi was leaning over you, his large body, muscled and tight in comparison to yours made you feel so small, so caged in. He switched from his brutal pace as he moved over you, opting for deep-reaching hard thrusts that had buzzes of pain and shocks of pleasure hitting through your whole body. He leant down to your face, one of his large hands wrapping around your throat as he kissed away the stream of tears running down your face, nuzzling his own into the wetness that collected along your neck as well. “My little fucking dumb bitch should know better than to try and be a tease, should know that it will never end well for her...” he said, kissing and sucking along the tender flesh of your neck until he heard you let out a soft moan and bit down hard until he tasted sweet copper in his mouth. He sucked and bit a large bruise where your neck and shoulder met, pulling away with a red-tinted smirk. “Should know that such a dumb baby can only listen, not think,” he said, his thrusts pace quickening until he was spilling white hot seed deep into your body, filling you up but not slowly down. You still hadn’t cum once and feeling Iwaizumi’s cum in your pussy only triggered something in you that ached for more.

“Haji please,” you whimpered, wiggling your hips until his hands came down hard to still your movements, feeling that his cock was still as hard as ever inside of you and he didn’t look like he was done just yet.

“Now, now baby that’s not how I taught you to ask for something,” Iwaizumi mocked.

“Da-mmphmff fuck!” Iwaizumi interrupted your pleading with a series of harsh thrusts that shook your whole body out of its train of thought, his harsh laugh cutting through you, making your bottom lip jut out in a pathetic pout. “Daddy please, please help me cum! I’m sorry for being bad, please I’ll be your good girl!”

“Mm, that’s an improvement,” Iwaizumi said, moving inside of you again to help tighten the coil of pleasure building in you until he pulled out completely which caused you to cry out in frustration, until your eyes widened as you saw him reaching over into the nightstand. Your eyes widened further when you saw him pull your guys’ favorite vibrator, slim and teal in color with white swirls, like his old school colors. You watched him as he turned it on, the soft buzzing filling the room over your panting breaths, until he dipped it into your pussy without warning, though it was thankfully much smaller than him. He was twisting and pushing and pulling it in and out of you at all sorts of angles that had you writhing and begging for him to not stop until that is exactly what he did, robbing you of your orgasm again as you cried out and thrashed on the bed until one look from him told you to stay still. “Just needed to make sure this was nice and wet for you,” Iwaizumi mused, and you didn’t know what he meant until you felt the cool top of the vibrator prodding at the tight ring of muscle at your backside. You whimpered and pleaded with him but he ignored you, pressing the toy in further until your hungry ass sucked it in, a wanton moan escaping you as you wriggled at the fullness. You were an inaudible jumble of mewls and hums and moans as Iwaizumi fucked your ass with the vibrator, the sensations filling you up and building up inside of you so intensely. You were thrown through a loop of sensations as you felt the tip of Iwaizumi’s cock breaching your puffy, soaking hole. He slipped in easy due to his earlier orgasm filling you up with his cum, he swore under his breath as you felt even tighter than before, and now he could feel the vibrations and extra fullness of the vibrator in your ass through the thin wall separating your pussy.  

“Haji-Daddy, ‘mm gonna cum, oh fuck-” your voice was barely audible as you choked on the sensations filling up your lower half, and when Iwaizumi started pistoning in and out of you again in opposite time as he was fucking your ass with the toy you were nearly there.

“Come on, princess, I can feel you squeezing me-fuck-so tightly, cum for me baby! Cum on my cock!” Iwaizumi was pounding into your overstimulated body and with his permission you let go. Back arching and gummy walls gripping onto his cock as your entire lower half buzzed and contracted, pussy clamping down on Iwaizumi’s cock as he let loose another load of white cum, coating your walls and filling you up until he was dripping out of you with every squelching thrust. The vibrations from the toy still lodged deep in your ass kept you riding the wave of your orgasm until you were crying and begging Iwaizumi to take it out and thankfully, he did, having turned it off and thrown it near the dirty laundry. He plopped his body on yours, the weight of him making you feel safe as you came down from your high. His lips kissing along your temple and down to your jaw, along the line of your jaw and down your throat. He grabbed onto you and rolled your guys’ body until you were on top of him, panting and whining as he slowly slipped his softening cock out of you. He continued to kiss along your neck and shoulder, giving a gentle lick to where he bit you so roughly earlier. His hands were running up and down your back as your body still gave into little spasms from the intense orgasm.  

“You with me, princess?” Iwaizumi asked, running one hand down your back at the other stroke your hair.

“Mmm,” you answered, eyes shut and drifting in and out. You felt a gentle patting on your cheek that made you open your eyes, a pout taking over your features.

“Awe, don’t give me that princess, c’mon,” Iwaizumi groaned, petting your sweaty hair down, “need to make sure my baby is good and safe in her mind. Wanna try walking with me to the shower so we can clean up and come back and snuggle?”

You just nodded and let Iwaizumi lift you up and let you lean on him as you walked toward the master bathroom, the large shower that could fit ten just calling your name. He set you on the inset bench and let the steamy water take over as he gentle sponged your body with your favorite soap and then lifted you to press against him as you rinsed off, all the while Iwaizumi was praising you with how wonderfully you did for him, how good you made him feel, how you were his very good girl, his darling princess.  

You patted his cheek and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, reassuring him you were good and he did good and everything was good. Perfect, even.  

You two were back in bed about ten minutes later, clean bodies and clean sheets. You were tucked under one of Iwaizumi’s arms, snuggled into his side with your head on his chest.

“You sure you’re okay, princess? I wasn’t too rough?” Iwaizumi was full of anxiety with a bit of how he acted, but he knew you’d let him know if he pushed you too far, right?

“You were perfect, Hajime, you are perfect,” you leant up and kissed his jaw. “Plus, I didn’t need to say Oikawa, didn’t I?” 

You both burst out laughing, and he kissed the top of your hair as he pulled you tighter against him before you both drifted off to sleep, happy and fully satisfied – for now.  

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Your Perfect Little Bubble

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff, dad!sam fluff, minor angst

Request by anon: What about a Sam x reader where Sam and R are sleeping and their young child comes in because of a nightmare and wakes up reader wanting to sleep with their parents. With the lines “ ok, just don’t wake daddy up.” And Sam replies “Too late” Just domestic fluff! There just needs to be more Dad!Sam

Summary: Your little boy has a nightmare in the middle of the night and tells you about it.

nose kisses (2020 card) and child au (2021 card) for @spnfluffbingo​

family for @spntfwbingo​

domestic au for @spngenrebingo​

Author’s Note: I know this was requested a long time ago. Sorry this is just now coming out. This is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine. If you have any requests, please send them in!

Having kids was never something you saw for yourself until you met Sam. Being truly happy with your life was never possible for you until you met Sam. You never saw having the things you have now until you met Sam. Everything happened when you met him, and you owe him your life--to try and pay back everything he gave to you. Ten years ago, if someone asked you what you would be doing with your life, it would certainly not be this.

Your eccentric five-year-old baby boy is full of life and is curious about everything. He has an eye for the good, to see what others can’t. When you found out you were pregnant, you refused to raise him the way John did with his boys. John shut his kids out unless he needed them, and even then, it was touch-and-go. Not with Dylan, no, you wanted to be different than the rest.

Dean has always said hunters aren't kids, but you’re doing a pretty damn good job at allowing your baby boy be a kid for as long as he can. He knows what’s out there because you decided to have the talk with him in the form of stories. Instead of just shoving him into the life and forcing him to deal with it like John did, you tell stories of vampires, djinns, angels, demons, and everything in between. With stories, you can show him it’s not that scary, and with hunter parents like Sam and Dean, it’s not.

The Bunker isn’t an ideal place to raise a child, but Dylan made sure to turn this place into his own personal playground. The two rooms you merged to make his playroom is just covered with toys. Whenever he had a birthday, Sam, Dean, and even Castiel would spoil him with lots of presents, so the Bunker is just littered with them.

You don’t mind much since it makes him so happy to get gifts. He’s not spoiled in a bad way--he always says please and thank you, and he is very grateful for what he gets. You don’t think you could have raised a better son, and there are still thirteen more years to go. You let Dylan play in his playroom after dinner, so when you enter the room to get him, a smile grows on your face.

He fell asleep while playing with the present Jack gave him--Marvelous Marvin the Talking Teddy. He also has one, and they play a lot together with them. You think it’s sweet how much your son grew to love Jack. They are close in age, so it makes sense that they would get along the best.

You walk over to your little man and pick him up gently, careful not to wake him up. His head rolls to rest on your chest, and you carry him to his room. He decorated it all on his own with the help of his father. There are stars and planets painted on the wall since he loves Toy Story and Buzz Lightyear and everything that has to do with space. You lay him in his bed and tuck him up, kissing him on the head when you’re finished.

Sam and Dean had just gotten back from a tough hunt, so to give your husband some time to settle into bed and go to sleep, you figured you would clean Dylan’s playroom first. If you were to go to bed now, and Sam was only half-asleep, he would wake as soon as you got into the bed. Years of being a hunter made him accustomed to being a light sleeper.

You tidy up Dylan’s playroom, putting the toys where they belong. Inside the room is a little table in the corner that is used for arts and crafts that he loves using. Today, him and Jack were painting some of the Toy Story characters. Your son’s paintings aren’t that great with Jack not that far behind him, but they had fun while doing it. You take the pictures and hang them in the designated spot that’s used to hang all the pictures that Dylan makes. Once they dry, he picks his favorite ones and you throw the rest of them away. The ones he picks go into a big photo album that he can look through when he’s older.

Once the room is cleaner, you head back to your shared room with Sam. You can hear his soft snores from his side of the bed, so you know he is fast asleep. You’re quiet as you change into your pajamas, and you slide into bed gently. Sam turns over so he's facing you, and in his sleep, he reaches out for you. You cuddle into his side, acting as the “little spoon”. His big arms wrap around your waist as his head buries itself into the crook of your neck.

If you could stay like this forever, you would. Immediately, you drift off to sleep knowing everyone inside the Bunker is safe and sound. You’re not sure when you wake up next, but you know it’s not morning. It’s not your alarm telling you that you two needed to get up to do your morning run. It’s not the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen that Jack loves to make since he barely sleeps. No, something much more innocent and vulnerable wakes you.

“Mommy,” Dylan whispers, shaking your shoulder.

“What is it, baby? Are you okay?” you whisper and turn on the lamp next to your bed on the lowest setting so it doesn’t wake Sam up.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Come here,” you say and pat the area between you and Sam.

Sam had managed to scoot as far as possible away from you during the night, so there is plenty of room for Dylan to crawl in without waking his father. He settles in next to you, and you push his long hair away from his face. He is growing more to look like Sam every single day. He refuses to cut his hair claiming he wants to look like Daddy.

“Tell me about your nightmare, sweetheart. Just don’t wake Daddy up.”

“Too late,” Sam grumbles and flips to face you two. “What’s going on?”

“Dylan had a nightmare. He was just going to tell me about it.”

“Alright, buddy, we’re all ears. We’re listening,” Sam yawns.

“I had a nightmare about you and Daddy. You were killed by a monster and you left me all alone,” Dylan sighs.

You look at Sam knowingly, and that little story causes him to become more alert. You’re not a hunter anymore--not since you found out you were pregnant. You’re a stay-at-home mom while Sam and Dean go out and fight the monsters. You help when you can from the Bunker, but you don’t go out anymore. This isn’t your department anymore, so Sam takes over. He grabs Dylan by the waist and plops him on his elated legs so that he’s resting his back on them.

“Listen, Dylan, your mom and I aren’t going to die. I know it’s scary, okay? Believe me, I was once your age thinking the same thing about my dad. It was scary for me not knowing if he was ever going to come home, but it doesn’t have to be like that for you. Your uncle and I will always make it home to you and your mom. You have Uncle Jack and Cas here to protect you. They’re angels, so if I’m ever hurt, they can fix me right up. You won’t ever have to be alone.”

“Your daddy’s right, baby. Monsters are scary, okay? Monsters can hurt a lot of people, but your daddy and your uncle go out and kill the bad people so that the good people can be happy. Just like in your stories,” you add with a smile.

“Okay,” he nods, believing every word you and Sam say.

“You want to show your mom what we’ve been working on?” Sam asks with a smile, and that seems to brighten up your son.

“Yeah!”

He and Sam have been working on a secret handshake that only the two of them know. It puts a smile on your face to know that your son has this to fall back on. When he’s scared or alone, he can think back to times like these to feel better. When they are done, Dylan squeals in happiness when Sam bear-hugs him.

“That’s pretty cool,” you beam.

“Are you feeling much better?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dylan smiles widely.

“Do you want to sleep in here with us?” you ask.

Dylan nods, and Sam puts him back where he was before. Dylan snuggles underneath the blanket and passes the fuck out. When you know he is fast asleep, you look at Sam with a loving smile.

“We did a good job with this one,” you say.

“We should have another one,” Sam whispers.

“I’d love nothing more.”

You lean closer to him and rub your nose against him to give him some Eskimo kisses before kissing him on the lips. It’s slow and sensual, but nothing short of loving. You pull away and cuddle into him with Dylan in between you two.

Your perfect little family all wrapped up in a perfect little bow.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!

@babypink224221​ @fluffydanger​ @jennazeise​ @calaofnoldor​ @miraclesoflove​ @xxboesefrauxx​ @kendall-michele​ @007zada​ @nahigm​ @sandlee44​ @a--1--1--3​ @paintballkid711​ @musiclovinchic93​ @whizzer1320 @essie1876​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @fuckwby​ @gh0stgurl​ @wonderful-writer​ @scarletmeii​ @mizzezm​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @katherine097​ @posiemax​ @countrygal17a​ @knowledgefulbutterfly​ @justalonely-nerd​ @deanloveboi​ @casseythebee​ @redperson58​ @donnaintx​ @foxyjwls007​ @thatmotleygirl​ @mishkatelwarriorgoddess​ @sritzthefirefly​ @sunshin3sammy​ @stixnstripesworld​

[fruitcoops]

eve omg omg omg the jules fic was so amazing!!!! i'm so excited for the rest :))))

Here’s part two of Adventures in Babysitting! The editing was being finnicky, so I’m sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather and Jules credit belongs to @lumosinlove!

“Are you warm enough?” Sirius asked as he swiped Jules’ bangs beneath the edge of his beanie. Jules nodded, still sleepy even at seven thirty in the morning. “D’accord, let’s get going. Re, did you let Hattie out?”

“Yep, she’s all set in the living room.” Remus kissed him as he passed, hauling his duffel up and resting his hand between Jules’ shoulder blades to guide him down the steps. “Careful, buddy, it’s slippery.”

“I know,” Jules mumbled. “D’you think it’ll snow?”

Sirius looked up—the sky was still fairly dark, but smudges of thick grey clouds seemed to be rolling in. “Probably.”

The drive to the rink was quiet and peaceful; a six o’clock wake up call was tough even on the best of mornings, when they didn’t have a third tiny person to worry about. Regulus sounded like he was waking as they left the house, and Sirius hoped he’d stick around long enough to say goodbye. Pascal’s house wasn’t far, but Sirius knew he would miss having him around.

“Morning, boys,” Remus called as they entered the locker room.

“Morning,” Kasey yawned, stretching his thigh out. “How’s the kid?”

“Sleepy.”

“Big mood. He’s with Moody again today?”

“Yep. They’ll probably come watch again at some point.” Remus smiled to himself. “Thank you guys for showing off yesterday, by the way. He couldn’t stop talking about it the whole evening.”

“Who’s ready to win a game?” James whooped, barging in and looking far too awake for his own good.

Leo frowned. “Game’s tomorrow, Pots.”

“It’s never too early to get hyped, baby rookie.” James patted him on the head as he passed and Leo scowled.

“I’m not a rookie anymore! Loops is!”

“If I call Loops a rookie, he’s going to make sure I never have children again,” James laughed, throwing a t-shirt to Remus from across the aisle. “Here, I borrowed that a couple weeks ago.”

Remus gave it a tentative sniff. “Dude, you didn’t even wash it?”

“It’s something to remember me by.”

“You’re a walking nightmare.”

“Nah, you love me.”

There was a new intensity to their practice that morning—they had beat the Ravens before, sure, but that didn’t mean they were guaranteed to win this time. Even James centered himself, tapping a puck back and forth with Remus until it was nothing but a blur between them. Sirius didn’t see Jules or Moody at any point throughout their ice time, which left him a little disappointed when the timer went off and it was time to hit the gym.

They all did lighter workouts, more like cool down exercises rather than legitimate muscle-building routines. Sirius let himself fall into the rhythm of squats, pushups, and jump-roping until each beat of his heart aligned with the impact of his feet on the mats. The jingle of his ringtone finally signaled the end of practice and a collective sigh went up.

“See you tomorrow, gents,” Nado said as he stood and stretched his back. Sirius felt the mood change as the pre-game heaviness settling over them like a weighted blanket.

Remus wandered over and gave his shoulder a light nudge. “I’ll shower and get Jules while you finish up, yeah?”

“Sounds good. I’ll be quick.” Sirius pressed their foreheads together in lieu of a kiss before turning back to the rest of the guys as stretches began. “You know the spiel. Get some sleep, carb load, all that jazz.”

“Got it, Cap,” Leo said. He tried for a smile, though he looked troubled.

“The Ravens are a great team, but we’re better. We beat them before and we can do it again. Shake off the weird vibes, okay? We can do this.” We have to if we want to make it to the playoffs, he thought instinctively before reaching over to tap the strip of wooden floor that the mats didn’t quite cover. Nope. No playoff thoughts. Just the game.

Eight minutes and a dozen fist-bumps later, they arrived at the locker room in a jumble of bodies. Sirius paused at the end of the hall and heard more than one quiet ‘awww’; Remus was waiting outside, as promised, with Jules fast asleep in his arms. He winked when he saw them and held a finger to his lips, stepping out of the way so they could sneak past.

Moving over a dozen fully-grown hockey players through a small space was not the most stealthy of activities, especially when all of them lingered to get a look at the sleeping child—it was no surprise that Jules woke up partway through and blinked drowsily at them. “Hmm?”

“It’s okay, buddy, you can sleep,” Remus murmured, hitching him a little higher up. “We’re heading home soon.”

“But I wanna watch,” Jules said, pouting slightly. Kasey made a soft noise and put his hand over his heart.

“You can watch the game tomorrow,” James said in a gentle voice. It wasn’t baby talk, persay, but Sirius had definitely heard him use that same soothing tone when Harry started to fuss. Jules snuggled his face into Remus’ neck again with a hum.

Sirius showered quickly and grabbed his bag, barely checking to see if his stuff was all there before ducking out of the locker room with a final mock-salute to the guys. “How long has he been asleep?” he asked as he picked up Remus’ duffel.

“He was out cold on the PT table.” Remus laughed under his breath. “Moody said he was a firecracker for about an hour and a half, but he came back from the bathroom and found him all curled up.”

“That’s so fucking cute. Did you get a picture?”

“Already sent it to my folks.” Remus carefully set Jules in the backseat of the car and buckled him in while Sirius closed the trunk as quietly as he could. Once they were in their respective seats, Remus leaned over the console and gave him a proper kiss, nice and slow. It sent a buzz all the way down to Sirius’ toes.

The lights were off at the house when they arrived; Jules was fully awake by then and Sirius watched his face fall at the same time his own heart clenched. “Regulus left.”

“Yeah, I think so. It’s okay, we’ll see him tomorrow.” Sirius added the last sentence partly for himself—he tried to keep in mind that Regulus was an adult and had moved out ages ago, but they had settled into their routine so quickly. He didn’t want the house to feel empty again.

“Hey.” Remus’ hand was light on his elbow and he blinked, looking over at his smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, all good. Let’s get some lunch.” He offered a smile that he knew was weak, but Remus linked their hands all the same and kissed his cheek before getting both their bags out of the back.

Jules was playing hopscotch with the checkerboard of ice patches on the sidewalk; it had snowed while they were at practice, after all. There was a faint bark from inside and Jules gasped happily, racing toward the front door with reckless abandon and pressing his face against the wood. “Hi, Hattie-girl!”

Sirius unlocked the door, bending slightly to absorb her impact as she tumbled into them both and covered Jules’ face in kisses, wiggling to pieces with sheer joy. She sprinted for her toy box and grabbed a knotted rope, trotting back to Jules for him to grab the other end and tug.

“Do we have leftovers from last night?’ Remus called from the doorway when Sirius headed into the kitchen.

“I don’t think so, but we have turkey. How does a sandwich sound?”

“F—uh, really great.” Remus grimaced as he walked in and dropped his wallet on the counter. “I have got to be better about my language. Mom’s still mad at me for teaching Jules to say ‘fuck’, and that was years ago.”

“You had no qualms about teaching Harry bad words.”

“And you had no qualms about being on a desert island without me,” Remus said coolly. “Yet here we are.”

“Touché.” Sirius turned around to construct the sandwiches and felt someone lightly slap his ass. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Remus grinned, stealing a slice of cheese from his small pile and hopping up to sit on the counter.

“I don’t know why you do that.”

“Slap your ass or steal food? I do both because I love you.”

“I meant sitting on the counter. You know, where we eat.”

“I like to feel extra tall,” Remus said, reaching for another slice of cheese until Sirius gently smacked his hand away.

“Shortie.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s a bad word,” Jules said from the doorway with a smile. He looked quite disheveled from playing with the dog.

Remus sighed. “It is, indeed. Don’t repeat it.”

“I could.”

“But you won’t.”

“I could.”

“I’ll tell mom.”

“She’d blame you for teaching me.”

“I’ll tell dad.”

“He’d think it was hilarious, and then he’d tell mom and she’d chew you out.”

Remus rolled his eyes and scooted over to make room for Jules to hop up next to him. Sirius threw his hands in the air. “Both of you! What the hell? Who taught you to do that?”

They shared a glance and shrugged. Sirius was starting to understand why people thought it was creepy how similar he and Regulus looked. “It’s a side effect of being the wiry kids on the block when everyone else is taller,” Remus said, snorting as Jules flexed his skinny arms.

Sirius handed them each a sandwich and, with a heavy sigh, boosted himself up to join them. The marble was cold, but it was…kind of fun to swing his legs and get a few extra inches of height. “I think he likes it,” Jules stage-whispered to Remus.

“It’s not horrible,” Sirius conceded, taking a bite of his food.

“Come to the Dark Side, we have the best places to sit.”

Jules widened his eyes and wiggled his fingers at Sirius until they were all laughing too hard to actually eat, then fell into silence as hunger took precedence after not having anything substantial since breakfast. “Are you good with reading or watching TV for a bit while we take a nap?” Remus asked between sips of water. Jules nodded, still making his way through his sandwich.

“What’re we doing after?”

Sirius paused at the same time Remus stopped halfway through a drink of water. They made eye contact, and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing: oh, fuck, we actually have to do things with a child around. “Uh, we’re…going to the park,” Remus said.

Jules made a happy noise around his sandwich and swung his legs. “Cool!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Okay, mom.”

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

The park was a winter wonderland, to say the least. Four inches of snow coated the grassy field and weighed down the branches of the trees lining the playfield, where about a dozen kids built snowmen with their parents. Hattie’s breath fogged the window as they parked and her wagging tail lightly smacked Jules’ forehead every few seconds.

Jules was out of the car the second Sirius turned the engine off, grabbing Hattie’s leash and leaping into the nearest snowbank with a whoop. Remus burst out laughing and followed him with a final glance over his shoulder to Sirius.

They were making halfhearted snow angels when he finally wandered over to the snowbank. They looked so peaceful, so content and happy.

Remus gasped when the first snowball hit him dead center in his chest. Jules laughed even harder until the next one landed in the neck of his coat and poured a veritable waterfall of snow down his front. They both stared up at Sirius in shock and betrayal; he grinned and tucked his chilly hands into his pockets.

“Go for the legs, Jules,” Remus advised as he scrambled up, keeping one hand on his beanie so it didn’t fall off.

Sirius barely made it three steps before Jules grabbed him around the shin and nearly tripped him. He did his best not to drag the kid face-first through the snow, but Jules didn’t seem to mind as he hooked an arm around his other ankle and Remus collided with his shoulder, sending all three of them to the ground in a heap. “Ugh.”

“Gotcha,” Jules said, clambering onto his chest with a breathless smile. Hattie, who had come over to see what all the fuss was about, began licking his half-frozen ear.

Remus sprinkled a handful of snow onto his face, slowly obscuring his view until everything was icy and white. “Vengeance is sweet, huh, buddy?”

“Totally.”

Sirius wiped the snow away and blinked up at two pairs of amber eyes. “I surrender?”

“I should hope so,” Remus laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off, offering a hand to help him to his feet. He kissed his nose in consolation as Jules took Hattie’s leash and ran off toward the playfield, where he would no doubt make seven new best friends within the hour.

“Cute kid,” a middle-aged woman with a kind smile said as she stopped next to them.

“Isn’t he?” Sirius smiled as Hattie rolled onto her back for belly rubs from three different kids.

“How old?”

“Ten.”

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at Remus. “You must have been young when you had him.”

“What? Oh, no, he’s my little brother!” he said quickly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, you just look so similar,” she laughed, clearly embarrassed.

“No worries, it happens all the time. Which one is yours?”

She pointed to a giggling little girl on the swings, whose dark curls were braided back into a poofy bun. “Lena turned twelve yesterday.”

“Aw, happy birthday to her!” Sirius wrapped his arm around Remus’ waist and put his hand in his back pocket, pulling him close for warmth. They both waved to Jules when he looked over and beamed at them.

The temperature dropped rapidly as four thirty came and the sun began to set; soon, the fat flakes of snow grew smaller and icier as they flurried around the park. Lena and her mother left about half an hour before Remus started bouncing on his toes in an effort to keep warm. Sirius considered himself a decent fiancé, so he figured it would be best to not let Remus freeze solid.

Jules was damp and shivering with melted snow when they got back to the house and Hattie immediately laid down in front of the heater vent as he ran upstairs for a hot bath; Remus and Sirius peeled their soaked outer layers off and hung them in the bathroom to dry.

“If he gets hypothermia, mom’s gonna kill me,” Remus muttered as he shook Jules’ scarf out over the bathtub, though Sirius could see the genuine concern in his eyes.

“He’ll be fine,” he assured him with a gentle hip check. “We were only there for a couple hours and we left pretty quick after it got really cold.”

“He was shivering in the car.”

“Re.” Sirius set his coat down and took Remus’ face between his hands. “Jules will be just fine.”

“We would be really good parents.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Not now, obviously, but I think we’d be good parents.” Sudden nervousness shadowed his face. “Sorry, that was way out of the blue. Do you—do you not want that?”

“No, I do! I really, really do but…we’ve never talked about it before. Like, in depth.” I wouldn’t be a good dad. I barely know what a good parent looks like, aside from yours and the Potters.

Remus relaxed. “Oh. Well, I don’t think it would be a great idea to adopt kids while we’re still working full time playing hockey, but in the future…” He shrugged, the edge of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “I think about it sometimes.”

“Me, too.” There was a splash upstairs and they both laughed. “Well, I guess we’re about to have an indoor swimming pool.”

“I’ll get the towels.”

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

Sirius was almost done with the dinner dishes when he realized he hadn’t heard much noise from Jules’ room in quite a while, and yet Remus had yet to come back downstairs. He paused, listening to the muffled voices—no, not voices. Just one.

He rinsed the last plate and washed his hands, making a face at the weird soap texture and the ensuing dryness of his knuckles. There were few chores he genuinely disliked, but dishes were one of them.

The door to the guest bedroom was still open when he went upstairs, and a soft light shone out. He stopped in the doorway, a greeting dying in his throat.

“—‘hold it up!’ said Gandalf. ‘And look closely!’” Remus lowered his voice into a grumble as he read Gandalf’s lines; Jules was entranced, though he struggled to keep his eyes open for more than three seconds at a time. “As Frodo did so, he now saw fine lines, finer than the finest pen-strokes, running along the ring, outside and inside: lines of fire that seemed to form the letters of a flowing script.”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at Sirius, flushing faint pink. In the pause, Jules sighed softly. “Why’d you stop?”

“We’ll pick it up again tomorrow night,” Remus whispered, brushing his fringe out of his eyes. “Sleep well, buddy.”

“Sweet dreams,” Sirius added.

Jules mumbled and snuggled deeper under the blankets while Remus set the book on the nightstand and turned the bedside lamp off.

“That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sirius said as soon as he had closed the door behind them and they walked down the hall to their bedroom. “Was that The Hobbit?”

“Fellowship of the Ring. It’s one of my favorites, and he picked it up this afternoon while we were napping.” Remus pulled his shirt off and sifted through their sheets for his pajama pants. “Did you do the dishes?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, baby. That was really sweet of you.”

“You were busy being adorable.”

“Shush,” Remus scoffed, though the blush returned to his cheeks as he curled up under the covers and made grabby hands toward Sirius. “C’mere.”

The bed was cold when he laid down, but Remus was warm, and soon they were tangled together as the moon shone through their window. Sirius drifted off to slow breaths and dreams of the future, where maybe—just maybe—their kid wouldn’t have to leave after four more days. 

[buckleyirondad]

these little words (somehow they're changing us)

Christopher can make anybody smile, even when they feel like they can't.

Christopher Diaz Week, Day 7: ANYTHING CHRIS GOES + “I love you.”

Read on AO3 (This is a long one lol)

TW: For ‘Part 4: Harry’ there are mentions of a bully who teased Harry for having a gay dad. 

1: Bobby

Washing up, Bobby could turn his back on the team and couldn’t be asked a million questions about how he was feeling. At home, with Athena and May, they spoke to him with their gentlest voices, then at work, the team did the same, it was too much.

The anniversary of the fire was creeping up, the single worst day of Bobby’s life, that he wished he could lock in a box and throw to the bottom of a lake.

He knew that his family cared.

It was why Athena was up early to make him breakfast every morning, why Hen and Chimney let him win their Mario Kart tournament, why Eddie did the grocery run, and why Buck saved him the last cupcake from the bundle Taylor had dropped off to celebrate Buck and Eddie’s engagement.

Those gestures, Bobby didn’t mind, but it was the talking; the mindless head tilts and the usual, “How are you doing?”

There was no answer for that, unless he lied, nodding his head, and saying he was doing okay, but when he closed his eyes, he saw his kids laying across those white sheets.

Bobby celebrated – internally, of course - when Eddie asked if Christopher and Carla could stopover for lunch. He adored Christopher, and so did everybody else, it was impossible not to. So, while everybody was distracted by Christopher’s wonderous tales, Bobby could escape the constant questions and the worried glances.

Running his hand through the lukewarm water, Bobby turned off the faucet and turned, swinging open the dishwasher.

He skipped over to the table, gathering as many plates as he could with two hands.

Christopher grabbed his empty plastic cup and jumped onto his feet, “I’ll help!”

Bobby couldn’t help but smile, “Thank you.” He turned, starting to place the plates into the dishwasher, “Those cups can’t go in here, do you wanna put it in the sink for me?”

“Okay!” Christopher bounced over, tossing the cup into the water, “I’m very good at washing up.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows, “Yeah?”

Christopher lowered his voice, “Better than Buck.”

Bobby pressed a hand on his stomach, barking a laugh, “I bet you are.”

Buck couldn’t wash up, not without making a mess; Eddie couldn’t cook, even after many one-to-one lessons with Bobby. Together, it worked.

Christopher stood on his tiptoes, looking into the sink, “Do you want my help?”

“Sure,” Bobby held up his hands, “I’ll grab the other cups.”

Before he could, Christopher was hugging him, locking his arms firmly around Bobby’s middle.

Bobby knelt, folding his arms behind Christopher’s shoulders, letting the kid press his chin on his shoulder, “Hey,” Bobby hung his head back, “What was that for?”

“I don’t know,” Christopher lifted his shoulders with a shrug, “But I think you needed a hug.”

A warmth spread across Bobby’s chest as a grin gradually grew across his face, “I guess I did.”

Christopher patted his shoulder, “Love you, Bobby.”

Bobby lifted his hands, ruffling Christopher’s hair, “Love you too, kid.”

Standing to collect the cups together, Bobby searched the room for Eddie, he found him on the couch, grinning up at his fiancée who had laid his legs across Eddie’s lap, trapping him. Eddie locked eyes with Bobby, nodding slowly, with a knowing smile, he knew better than anyone that reassurance from Christopher was exactly what Bobby needed.

2: Maddie

Maddie understood that she couldn’t protect Jee-Yun from everything unless she planned to take helicopter parenting to the next most extreme level.

Jee-Yun was teething and despite knowing that her daughter would never remember the pain or the tears, it didn’t ease Maddie’s worry. She hated knowing that Jee-Yun was in pain, there was nothing she could do to soothe her, aside from cradle her, and buy her toys to chew on to her heart’s content.

“I know, baby,” Maddie pressed a kiss to Jee-Yun’s temple, “It sucks, doesn’t it?” Her daughter hung her head, wailing as loud as she could, Maddie tried to shush her, “Daddy’s sleeping.”

“No, Daddy’s awake,” Chimney emerged from the bedroom, with a yawn, he rubbed his eyes with the backs of his fingers.

“Oh, Chim,” Maddie squeaked her empathy, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not her fault,” Chimney clapped his hands, taking Jee-Yun into his arms, “It’s a part of growing up.”

She sighed, “But you have to work tonight.”

“I’ve had five hours,” He shrugged as he patted Jee-Yun’s back, “That’s enough.”

Maddie pressed her hands on her hips, trying to conceal a yawn, but it didn’t go unnoticed by Chimney, who raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to his shoulder, she jabbed a finger in his direction, “Shut up.”

Chimney laughed, “I didn’t say anything,”

There was a knock at the door.

Maddie narrowed her eyes, considering she hadn’t buzzed anybody in, she reached for the handle, pulling open the door.

She was greeted by three familiar faces; Buck, Eddie, and Christopher.

“Aunt Maddie!” Christopher locked his arms around her legs, greeting her in his usual fashion.

“Hey, honey,” She tapped his back as she darted her eyes up to her brother, “What are you guys doing here?” She asked through a yawn, “I thought you were venue hunting.”

“We are,” Eddie shrugged, “But not until later.”

Christopher headed inside, wearing a grin as he stopped by Buck’s side.

“So, we’re here…” Buck moved inside, pressing a kiss to Maddie’s cheek, “To help.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows, “Help?”

Buck pressed his hands together, resting them under his chin, as he turned on his heel, “Consider this an intervention.”

Maddie stepped closer to Chimney, “An intervention?”

Buck tilted his ear to his shoulder, “You two need sleep.”

“Desperately,” Eddie added as he pushed the front door shut, pressing a hand to his son’s back.

Chimney scoffed a laugh, “We’re fine.”

Buck snorted, “Sure.”

Eddie crossed his arms, “Is that why you look like you’re about to fall over?”

Chimney exclaimed, “Hey!”

“Now, there’s my favorite niece,” Buck held out his arms, scooping Jee-Yun, with a smile, not phased by her sobs, “Oh, no.”

Maddie sighed, “You really don’t have to do this.”

“We want to,” Eddie assured her, “You two deserve some time.”

“I mean,” Chimney met her gaze, “It’s basically free babysitting, right?”

“Yeah…” Maddie nodded, “Um, are you sure?”

Buck smiled, “Get some rest.”

Going into the bedroom, Maddie and Chimney fell onto their bed, not even bothering with the covers, curling into one another.

She couldn’t work out when she fell asleep, but Maddie was suddenly woken up, by somebody prodding her arm.

“What?” She turned, meeting Chimney’s tired gaze, “What is it?”

He raised his head, “Can you hear that?”

She couldn’t hear anything, “No.”

“Exactly,” Chimney mused, “Jee-Yun’s not crying.”

Maddie needed to see this, she sat up, crawling out of the bed, cracking the door open, and leaning her head out.

Jee-Yun was laying in the crib, blabbering happily, her eyes on the ceiling.

Eddie and Buck were dancing around the kitchen, finishing the washing up, while gazing into each other’s eyes, like they always did.

Maddie’s eyes found Christopher, who was kneeling beside the crib, poking his fingers through the slates, letting Jee-Yun grip onto one of them with all her might.

Christopher grinned, fascinated by his cousin, he sang, “Hey.”

Jee-Yun spun her head, watching Christopher, squeezing his finger as she did, she giggled loudly, staring at him like he held all the answers to the universe.

Christopher lowered his voice, whispering, “Love you, Jee.”

Tears filled Maddie’s eyes as she smiled, turning back to Chimney.

Jumping back into her bed, she couldn’t drop her smile.

Her family was the best.

3: Denny

Denny skipped into his bedroom, placing Christopher’s bag on the end of his bed.

They were having a double sleepover; two nights with Christopher, while Eddie and Buck were out wedding planning, which meant they could play games all day and talk through the night.

Christopher was having Denny’s bed while Denny took the inflatable mattress that they’d blown up by the window and covered in a spare quilt.

Denny bent beside the toy box, opening the lid, and searching for his new Star Wars Lego set to take into the living room. He stopped when he noticed something buried at the bottom, under the scrabble box, he dug his hands inside, pulling out a pink horse plushie, “Oh.”

It was Nia’s.

All his happiness was gone, Denny climbed onto his bed, laying on his side, hugging her horse under his arm as he let out a long sigh.

The bedroom door creaked, and Christopher asked, “What’s wrong?”

Denny hummed before saying, “Nothing.”

Christopher climbed up onto the bed, lying next to him, patting Denny’s arm, “I miss Nia too.”

Denny lifted his head, looking at his friend.

“It’s okay to miss people,” Christopher told him, “I miss my mom sometimes, but she’s not coming back, but she was here,” He squeezed the plushie, “Dad says that the important thing.”

Denny couldn’t imagine losing one of his moms; Christopher was one of the strongest people that he knew because he never stopped smiling.

“Nia is with her mom,” Christopher said, “She’s happy but she probably misses you too.”

Denny nodded slowly.

“You might see her again one day,” Christopher smiled, “That would be fun.”

“Yeah, it would,” Denny reached over, pulling Christopher into a hug, squeezing his eyes shut.

Christopher tapped his back, “I’m not going anywhere, Denny.”

“I know.” Denny scrunched his nose, “Love you, Chris.”

“Love you too.”

4: Harry

Harry was unloading the dishwasher, ignoring the glances that his mom and Bobby were sending his way as they muttered between themselves.

He knew he was in trouble, his parents had made that very clear when they collected him from school and grounded him, being suspended from school for a week was a big deal, he understood that.

He couldn’t tell them the whole truth, he knew how extravagant his parents were when they were angry, especially his mom. If he told Bobby, it would reach the station, and then everybody would be mad; he could already picture Hen and Buck storming the school with his mom.

Harry would rather handle it, by himself, and not stress his family out, yet. It wasn’t long until Eddie and Buck’s wedding, he didn’t want to put a dent in that, because it definitely would.

“Harry,” Bobby leaned on the kitchen surface, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Harry closed the dishwasher, “I pushed Ben over; that’s all.”

“That’s all,” Athena muttered, shaking her head as she buried her hands in his pockets.

“We know you, Harry,” Bobby said, clearly being the ‘good cop,’ “You wouldn’t have just pushed him.”

Ben’s torments filled Harry’s head as he met his stepdad’s gaze.

Your dad’s got a boyfriend?

Harry shrugged, “It’s nothing, Bobby.”

That’s so gross.

Harry adored his family, that included David, and when Ben came for him, Harry saw red, pushing Ben to the ground; Ben had seen the engagement party pictures for Eddie and Buck on Harry’s Instagram, that added fuel to the fire, but Harry would defend his family until the end.

The doorbell rang.

Bobby hung his head, looking to Harry’s mom, “That will be the boys.”

Harry rolled his shoulders; he forgot that Buck, Eddie, and Christopher were visiting for dinner.

“Harry,” Athena said strictly, “Christopher’s gonna wanna play games with you, but no video games, you hear me?”

Harry nodded.

Athena put on a grin, skipped up the stairs, and opening the door, with a joyous, “Hey!”

“Sorry, we’re so early,” Buck said, “Christopher was very excited to see Harry.”

Harry stepped over with Bobby, looking up to the door, as his mom turned to face him, with a knowing glance.

“Well, Harry’s grounded,” She pressed a hand to her hip, “But if Christopher is okay with board games.”

“We love board games,” Eddie sang, “Don’t we, bud?”

Christopher jumped, “Yeah!”

“This way, Chris,” Harry nodded his head to the couch, pulling out the Scrabble and Monopoly boards from under the coffee table, as he sat down, leaning his back on the edge of the couch.

Bobby skipped into the kitchen, to prepare drinks, while the others sat at the dinner table, jumping right into talking about the wedding.

Harry was happy for the distraction while he played games with Christopher.

Christopher balanced his crutches on the floor before jumping down to see near Harry, he lowered his voice, leaning his head, “What happened?”

Harry lifted his hands, “I got grounded.”

Christopher muttered, “Why?”

“I pushed a kid over,” Harry told him as he got out the parts for Scrabble, laying the board across the table, “I don’t wanna talk about it.” The thing was, he did want to talk about it, he wanted everybody to know that he didn’t do it without a reason, but he couldn’t.

Christopher asked, “Was he a bully?”

Harry nodded, keeping his voice quiet, “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Christopher let go of a long breath, “Did he push you?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “But—”

“He was mean?”

“Very.” Harry sighed, darting his eyes to his mom, who was caught up in her conversation, she wouldn’t be able to hear them, “Can I tell you what happened?”

“Yeah.”

“The kid, Ben, he was being mean,” Harry looked over at Buck and Eddie, before turning his face back to Christopher, “He said it was gross that my dad is gay.”

“That’s wrong!” Christopher cupped a hand over his mouth, shushing himself, “He can’t say that—”

“I know.”

Christopher held out his hands, “I would have pushed him over too.”

Eddie was on his feet, pacing over, “What did you say, Chris?”

Harry cursed their luck, he forgot that his parents could hear everything.

Christopher lied, “Nothing.”

“No…” Eddie shook his head slowly, “We all heard.”

Buck, like Bobby, seemed to take the role of ‘good cop’ so he stood back, crossing his arms, eyes locked onto the boys.

While Harry’s mom stepped over, stopping next to Eddie, the pair crossing their arms.

Christopher explained, “Harry pushed him because Ben was making fun of Michael for being gay.”

Harry sighed, slouching, as the adults were stunned into silence.

Harry’s mom met Eddie’s gaze, while Bobby clamped a hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“And—” Christopher breathed, “If somebody said that about you, I’d be mad.”

“Yeah, buddy, I know,” Eddie sighed gently, “Ben is wrong.”

“Harry,” Athena spoke softly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t wanna hurt Dad or David.”

“Still, sweetheart…” Athena sighed, bending down to cup his cheek in her hand, “You have to tell us these things, so we can understand.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“And pushing him over, wasn’t the best move,” She scolded, “But I get it, next time, you come to me, or one of your teachers, okay?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I will.”

“We’ll talk to your school tomorrow,”

Standing up, Bobby stepped over, wrapping an arm behind her back, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Harry turned, tugging Christopher into a hug, “Thank you,” He whispered into his ear.

Christopher frowned, “Why?”

“For helping.” Harry pulled back, “I didn’t know how to tell them.”

“Ben has to be told off,” Christopher told him, “And he will be.”

“Yeah,” Harry tapped his friend’s shoulder, “He will.”

Christopher reached out, grabbing the bag of letters for Scrabble, he looked up with a smile, “Love you, Harry.”

Harry grinned, happy to have a friend in Christopher, “Love you too, Chris.”

5: Buck

Sometimes Buck would wake up, panicked by memories of the tsunami. In a few short months, it would be the third anniversary of when the wave came crashing down, and he couldn’t understand where the time had gone.

Buck could feel the rush of the water; the pressure gathering him up and pushing him back, away from Christopher.

The ringing in his ears, his heart racing in his chest, and his arms thrashing through the cold avoiding debris as he swept past, Buck remembered it all.

He leaned back in the chair at the kitchen table, slowing his breathing as his eyes found the clock on the wall.

4:48 am.

He was surprised he hadn’t woken Eddie when he got out of bed, his fiancé wasn’t exactly a heavy sleep, and usually, with the slightest hint of unfamiliar movement, Eddie would be up on his feet before Buck could reassure him that he was only getting up to grab a glass of water.

It had been two hours since Buck had left the bedroom, taking his place in the kitchen, to sit with a cup of cocoa and stare at the wall, thoughts running through his head, at a mile a minute.

Eddie hadn’t been distributed when Buck slipped away, likely because they’d had a long shift at work, and when they made it home, Eddie had been out like a light.

Buck rubbed his hand down his face, wanting nothing more than for Eddie to gather him up in his arms, and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

He knew that if he knocked on the door and woke Eddie, then he would be exactly what he would get; Eddie didn’t show it, but he was a softy at heart.

As much as Buck wanted that, he couldn’t.

Buck? Wait, what are you doing here? Are you okay? Wait, where's Christopher?

Memories of that day, that moment when he thought he’d lost Christopher and had to tell Eddie, they weighed heavy, keeping him sitting in the chair.

Me and Christopher, we were...at the beach, and--um...and listen to me, okay?

Oh, he’d never shake the look in Eddie’s eyes.

I swear to you... okay, I tried...

Tears filled his eyes, he brushed them away, bracing his fingers together and planting them on the table, as he slowed his breathing.

Buck had been in love with Eddie for as long as he could remember, but when that day, he thought any potential relationship was buried.

Eddie and Christopher were two of the most important people in Buck’s life, two who pulled him to shore while he was sinking fast. He let them down that day, let Christopher slip through his fingers, but his soon-to-be stepson was adamant that Buck was a hero, but he didn’t feel like one.

Shortly after the whole lawsuit debacle, Eddie caught Buck off-guard, asking him out on a date, and explained that he was done wasting time that they didn’t have.

Buck was sure that he’d never been happier, than in that very moment, and then a year later, Eddie asked him to marry him, that day quickly took the top spot.

Buck fiddled with his engagement ring, leaning his head against his hand as he shuddered, feeling like he needed to wade through water before he could make it back to bed.

Christopher’s tired voice caught his attention, “Buck?”

Buck plastered on a false smile, lifting his head, as he turned in his chair, “Hey, buddy.” He tried to clear his throat, but his voice came out hoarse, “What are you doing up?”

Christopher tilted his head, “Are you okay?”

Buck thought he could lie but as he stared into Christopher’s eyes he knew he could, but his words escaped him, so he simply shook his head, his lower lip trembling.

Christopher sped over, opening up his arms.

Buck crumpled to the floor, on his knees, collecting Christopher in a hug, tucking his forehead against his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Christopher whispered in his ear, brushing his hand through Buck’s hair, “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Buck squeaked, closing his eyes as he let out of a sob, “I’m sorry.”

“You can be sad,” Christopher assured him, “It’s normal.”

“Yeah,” Buck nodded as he clung on tighter, “It is.”

The bedroom door clicked open, and a half-asleep Eddie emerged, stopping by the wall, eyes on them.

Buck leaned, pressing a hand to Christopher’s cheek, “I love you, Superman.”

Christopher smiled, as wide as he could, “I love you too, Papa.”

Eddie raised a hand, laying it under his chin as he struggled to hide the fondest of grins.

Buck chuckled through his tears, as he clung onto Christopher, his feet finally on dry land.

6: Eddie

Eddie kept going to the mirror to make sure that his tie was positioned properly, if he sat still for too long, his leg started bouncing and his heart would race.

He’d been a groom before, but his and Shannon’s wedding was quick, not many people attended the ceremony, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision that the pair made together.

With Buck, Eddie knew that this commitment was one he was making, until the end; he and Buck were entangled, in more ways than one.

God, Eddie loved him, he really did; sometimes he’d focus on the time they’d lost while they were idiots who never discussed their feelings, but he couldn’t concentrate on that.

Buck was more than perfect because they were best friends first, and still were, to this day, which made that step to boyfriends, that much easier; Buck loved Christopher like his own, before he and Eddie were together, which was beautiful.

There's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.

When Eddie had muttered those words, he should have realized, there and then, his true feelings but he left it too long, pushed his future further away.

He wouldn’t let that happen again.

That didn’t relieve the pressure that had rested on his chest, he was terrified of getting it wrong, or tripping up when he needed his balance the most.

He’d never considered the dangers of his job until he started counting the odds with Buck’s life, as well as his own.

He couldn’t lose another, his heart wouldn’t be able to take another blow, and Buck wasn’t exactly known for his level-headedness.

Despite that, since they started dating, both of them were far more responsible on calls, Bobby wished they’d been together since the beginning.

Christopher was sitting on the chair, in the corner of the room, dangling his legs in anticipation, “Are you okay, Dad?”

Eddie clapped his hands together, “I’m fine,” He rubbed the nape of his neck, “Just a little nervous.”

Christopher sang loudly, “It’s gonna be so cool.”

Eddie chuckled with a nod, “It is.”

“Pepa helped me with my speech,” Christopher beamed, happy with his Best Man role.

Eddie moved over, pushing Christopher’s hair out of his eyes, “You excited about that?”

“Yeah!” Christopher nodded, “Chimney is doing his first.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, knowing what that was going to entail, “He is, is he?”

“Then me!” Christopher exclaimed, “Auntie Karen typed it up on cards for me.”

Eddie smiled; this day was a serious family affair, “I can’t wait, buddy.”

Christopher chuckled, “Athena said Bobby will cry first today.”

“I bet,” Eddie sat beside him, breathing slow, leaning his arm against Christopher’s side.

“Dad,” Christopher held up his head, “You’re gonna be Eddie Diaz-Buckley, and Papa is gonna be Buck Diaz-Buckley?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Eddie smiled, he and Buck couldn’t wait for all the pranks they would pull at work with the name changes.

“Can I change mine?” Christopher asked, “To Christopher Diaz-Buckley?”

The pressure shifted off Eddie, for a moment, as he folded an arm around Christopher’s back, “If you want.”

“I do!” Christopher threw up his arms, “I love Buck.”

Eddie smiled, “I do too.”

Christopher leaned his head on his arm, “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, buddy,” He bowed down, pressing a kiss in Christopher’s hair.

There was a knock at the door, Eddie’s dad poked his head around, “It’s time, boys.”

Christopher held Eddie’s hand, tight, “We got this, Dad.”

As they piled into the corridor, and Eddie was met by a wall of his family, he let go of a slow breath, he was more than ready.

Meeting Buck at the altar, holding his hands tight, smiling with tears in his eyes, and seeing their son a couple of steps away; he’d never been happier.

[ageofevermore]

Canyon Moon

Summery: in which Harry dedicates Fine Line to his and your daughter, then brings her on stage to close the show

Words: 1.4k

add yourself to my taglist

Everyone knew that Harry loved being cryptic. Nothing was ever straight with him, and cheekily he claimed that it was because he wasn't straight himself. When you fell pregnant with your daughter, he had suggested you hid it from the media up until her birth, and afterwards the pair of you had broken the internet from your own little pocket of the world back in London.

Goldie, affectionately nicknamed by your husband because of her soft yellow locks, had stolen the media's hearts soon after her birth. It was hard to go a week without ranting and raving about her newborn milestones, though Harry was particularly quiet about his life with the two of you up in England. That all changed after her six month birthday and she had spluttered out a broken apart, Dada.

His social media posting was scattered, a healthy amount of baby Goldie on his feed, though his camera roll was transferred to physical hard drives every few months. When he started writing again, just after Harry Styles was debuted, it was no shock that he had created a studio on the floor of your daughters nursery. Her Montessori toys had been shoved aside, replaced with sound boards and acoustic guitars.

Between late nights at the studio and early mornings in the nursey, Harry hadn't parted ways with his new album, lovingly deemed Fine Line. He had shared with you a few songs, though everything was tightly under wraps. Besides Jeff and Mitch, and a few other song writers, Goldie was the only one to hear every song in full. He got up with her every morning, letting you sleep in well after nine, and serenading her with acoustic versions of her favorite pieces.

Goldie was seventeen months old when Fine Line dropped and debuted number one. Fourteen and a half months dedicated to his sophomore album, he couldn't help but feel emotional when it was released to public criticism. You and Goldie were carried over into the album, his love and affection for his girls cryptically displayed for all to hear and dissect.

Your little love, sweet little Goldie, legally named Indie Anne Styles,  was the star of the first track, and upon hearing it on a flight back home from Miami, your eyes watered and you had to take a few minutes to collect yourself. Canyon Moon had to be your favorite though. It was one of the few concepts he had shared with you after a night of magical love.

When tour started, Goldie was nineteen months and getting a grip on babbling. She wasn't saying much besides the basics, and even then it was gibberish to yours and Harry's ears. She was like him in every way. She loved cuddles, and her once blue eyes had turned a shade as complex as his own. Her hair was still clinging to it's blonde color, relieving your husband to great extents. He couldn't imagine a morning without his little blondie snuggling deep into his chest.

Harry was always soft for your daughter, which played to her advantage as she discovered crocodile tears. Her little lip would tremble every time she didn't get her way, or was unable to express what was wrong, and without fault Harry would scoop her up and smother her with cuddles and kisses. That's what Harry did best, defuse the tantrum with kisses and cuddles.

-

Goldie was a mess in your arms. The bows at the base of her pigtails were displaced, her lips and rosy cheeks were a mess of your lip-gloss from the thousands of kisses she requested, and her little hands refused to leave the neckline of Harry's pink suit.

Fine Line had begun touring months ago, and as promised you and Goldie had joined Harry over in the states after you finished a few shoots for Vouge. Being alongside your husband in the industry made everything easier, you're schedule flexible and light when you needed it to be. You would do anything to be home beside Goldie in the transformative years of her life, and you knew Harry would do the same, which is why his tour bus bedroom was completed with a crib and every venue was stocked with diapers and faux leather changing pads.

"Daddy has to go now, Goldie." You reminded the toddler gently, pulling the purple bow from her hair and clipping it to the neckline of your black shirt. You couldn't afford to lose another bow, unsure of how many sets you could have left. You were sure the number was down to single digits, and neither you or Harry had to time to scramble to the shops for hair accessories — even though your husband adored shopping for your little love, often buying her the most ridiculously priced name brand clothes and shoes.

"Dada." She mumbled, sleepy eyes looking over her fathers features with admiration. She leaned closer, pressing an open moth kiss to his chest. You were still working on the whole kissing concept, but you couldn't deny that her attempts were heart melting.

It took some coaxing and few tears, but you managed to separate the daddy daughter duo. Goldie had been cross with you for a few minutes, little lips pursed and face tucked into your neck, but after hearing the opening of the show through her yellow headset, she lifted her eyes and cooed.

Making your way side stage, you grinned at Harry. The pink suit was your favorite. It complimented his milky skin and brought out the green in his eyes. Your camera roll was overwhelmed with pictures of him in the suit, but recently you had added a snapshot of him and Goldie cuddled up backstage. Your daughter, who you had affectionately nicknamed monkey, had wormed her way into her daddy's hold and buried her little hands in his suit curiously.

"Dada." She mumbled. Your attention had been set on something in the distance, so you didn't notice your husband coming closer with a familiar playboy smirk on his lips. You followed her extended arms to your husband, a small smile on your lips.

He leaned forward when he was close enough, his sweaty lips on yours collecting whatever taste was left of your strawberry lip gloss. Between him and Goldie, you were sure it had been kissed off within five minutes of application.

"Hey, Lovie." He smiled against your lips, bringing the baby into his arms when she began to whine for his attention. "Hi, my Goldie." He muttered affectionately, smoothing his hand over the baby's bare feet. He ticked them a bit, grinning at her belly laughs and squirms. "Mind if I steal her for the last song, Petal?"

"Have at it, Lovie." You muttered back, smiling and waving at your daughter who was clinging to her fathers torso with a wide grin and tired eyes. She had exceeded her bedtime hours ago, but nothing could make Harry's night better then sleepy cuddles right after his show and having her fall asleep on his chest with you in his arms and the buzz of fans leaving the venues.

Harry shushed the excited crowd, fondling Goldie's back as she laid her head down on his shoulder sleepily. She looked so small in his arms, it made your heart ache at the sight of them. You couldn't wait to log into your socials later and see the snaps the fans had captured of your big and little loves.

"Can you say Hi, Goldie?" Harry asks your baby, holding the microphone up to her lips, but all she does is wave tiredly to the crowd. It was the sleepy wave you loved, her little hand opening and closing towards the sea of overexcited humans. Harry had created the best, most supportive environment for your daughter to grow up in, taking the kicking and screaming from closed minded media outlets with a level head. He was everything you wanted Goldie to look up to and more. "She's not very polite." He teased, looking down at the baby with such love you wondered how his heart could still beat. "We're still working on our manors."

"I have one more song for you!" He bellowed into the microphone, fixing the headphones over Goldie's ears when her wiggling moved them. "This is Canyon Moon!"

You hadn't even realized Harry had moved it to the end of his set, but your heart fluttered as his eyes met yours. The same charming smile worked its way onto his lips before he turned towards the microphone, giving his all to a song that bled his undying love for you and everything the two of you had built from scraps of rainbow dreams.

"Gotta see it to believe it, sky never looked so blue..."

[kaitoujokerscans]

The Night the Silver Cape is Set Ablaze CH4

CW eating disorders: this chapter describes a crash diet.

<4> Silver Heart's Secret

One of Silver Heart's hideouts in Europe. The small house was visited by Hachi on a night several days after Noir had intruded. Since that day, Joker had holed up in his bedroom on the Sky Joker and wasn't coming out. Losing so easily to Noir must have been a shock to him.

Hachi had been leaving meals out in front of his room every day. Joker hadn't burrowed away in his room like this since the last time a game he had been excited for finally released.

"Help yourself, Hachi-kun."

Cookies and tea were placed in front of Hachi, who was sitting at the table. Beside him, Hosshi was munching his favorite konpeito.

"Thank you, Roko-san."

The small white dog who had brought over the tray with his prehensile ears gave him a smile.

Roko was a super dog who had gained extraordinary powers thanks to genetic manipulation. He could speak human language, and he was so intelligent that it was easy to forget he was a dog. He was a full-fledged phantom thief dog, and he often worked alongside Queen on her capers. Queen herself was sitting at the table with Hachi, resting her chin in her hands with a dissatisfied look.

"Roko, get me some too~ Just the tea."

Like Joker and Spade, Queen too was a phantom thief and a disciple of Silver Heart. She called Silver Heart "Grandpa" and lived together with him. She was a pretty girl, dressed in a white and pink costume with her blonde hair bound in twintails. Huge diamond-shaped eyes were set in her fair skin, yet today their shine seemed duller than usual.

"Are you sure, Queen? Shouldn't you eat something soon? We have cookies."

"It's fine, I'll just fill my stomach with tea. I'm so close to my goal." From the sound of it, Queen was on a diet. "Anyway, where'd Grandpa go? Hachi-kun came all the way here..." pouted Queen.

Then Roko pushed a few buttons for the television and changed the channel. "It looks like he's still in the basement."

The basement came up on the television screen. There must have been a security camera set up there. It showed Silver Heart downstairs at his desk fervently studying something. Maybe he was making a new phantom thief tool...

"Did Grandpa stay up all night again? I wish he'd take better care of himself," said Queen, but she wasn't looking too healthy either. It was probably because of her diet, but in Hachi's opinion, he couldn't understand why Queen was so concerned about her figure. He didn't bring it up, however.

If Joker were here, he'd probably ask a bunch of questions like "Eh? Queen, you're on a diet? Why? How many kilos are you trying to lose? Actually, how many kilos are you now anyway?" and would subsequently become rust on Queen's diamond sword. But at the moment, Queen didn't seem to have the energy to swing the great sword she usually wielded, and was instead languishing at the table.

"Augh, I'm so hungry..." she moaned, and was met with a tactless query of "Oh, Queen, are you on a diet?" from the side. It was from Silver Heart, who had been in the basement up until now.

He was clothed in a clean white double-breasted suit and had a cup of tea in his hand. His most distinctive features were his long, straight white beard and his long locks of white hair. He gave the atmosphere of an elegant gentleman.

"Grandpa!"

"Silver Heart-san!"

Queen and the rest looked at Silver Heart in surprise. "Huh? You were just on screen, though..." When they glanced over at the television, the screen cut out with a static buzz and showed an empty basement instead.

"Fu fu fu, this is the improved version of the 'Image Card' I invented. Place it in front of a camera and it'll play fake footage that'll deceive the camera feed. It was only able to show still images before, but now it can play moving images for a short period too!" exclaimed Silver Heart, proudly holding out a few Image Cards.

"Hmm, another new invention?" Queen took a card and examined it with curiosity.

"In any case, Queen, you may be the right age for it, but you shouldn't go on a crash diet. How many kilos are you trying to lose? Actually, how many kilos are you now?"

"......"

Aah, you shouldn't ask that...! But before Hachi could even blanch, Queen threw a knife-sharp glare at Silver Heart. Her colder-than-ice eyes froze Silver Heart on the spot.

"Er, uh.... O-Oh, okay. N-Never mind! Actually, Q-Queen, you don't look any heavier! You practically look as thin as that wilted sunflower we saw recently!" Silver Heart tried to cover himself, but dug his grave deeper with every following remark. Finally, in an attempt to avoid Queen's glare, Silver Heart turned to Hachi. "S-So! How's Joker doing?"

"Well, he's not coming out of his room still. I think it was a huge shock for him."

"Hm, it sounds like it had a major effect on him."

"Joker's not even eating proper meals? Really now..." Queen marveled, staring into space. All she could think about at the moment was food.

"Silver Heart-san, please tell me. Who is Phantom Thief Noir?" Hachi asked, bending forward. Noir had known about Silver Heart. There must have been some sort of connection between the two of them. Hachi had come to Silver Heart's hideout to ask about this.

But when asked, Silver Heart took a sip of tea and answered with a blank look. "Noir's an old friend of mine, why?"

"Huh?" Hachi, Queen, and Roko's eyes widened. "He's your friend?"

"Yes. You know that I used to work as a spy, correct? Noir was a colleague of mine in those days."

"Eeeh!?" The trio exclaimed in surprise.

"Which means this Noir person was also a spy?" Queen forgot about her empty stomach and leaned forward.

"That's right. I was paired with a woman named Purple back then, and we carried out many assignments. Exposing the classified intel of enemy countries, blowing up the factories where weapons were being made in secret, all sorts of missions to protect world peace. But when Purple was on other assignments or when we had more rugged jobs, I paired up with Noir. Working with Noir as a team was tension-free since we were both men, and I enjoyed it in a different way than how I did with Purple. They used to say that when we paired up, there was no mission we couldn't accomplish. I had a friendly, enriching rivalry with him, and he was a lifelong friend!"

"Really?"

"Yes, really. That's why for the life of me I can't figure out why Noir would become a phantom thief and attack Joker." Silver Heart turned his gaze upwards in thought. He didn't look like he was hiding anything. Silver Heart must truly have considered Noir a friend.

"You don't have any idea why Noir-san might have shown up?" Hearing that he was a friend, Hachi appended a "-san" to Noir's name.

"Not in the slightest... But if there's anything Noir's holding against me, it might be from that time when we infiltrated a country called Lachla to eliminate a hidden treasure and I fell asleep. He nearly died that time..."

"I can see why he'd get angry," sighed Roko.

"The hidden treasure of Lachla is an honest-to-goodness crown. I found out about it just recently, so I'm going to steal it soon."

"That's what you wrote your last notice for," commented Queen.

"Besides that... ah!" Silver Heart exclaimed as if he had just remembered something. "Perhaps..."

"What?"

"What is it?"

"When I quit being a spy, in return for the farewell gift he got me, I gave Noir a wallet. He hates lizards, so I put a toy lizard in it as a prank. Maybe he only just opened it up recently."

When he heard this, Hachi fell to the ground. "That can't be it!"

"It has to be something else!"

"He wouldn't steal treasure from Joker-san just over that!"

"Y-You think so...?" Silver Heart was stunned by their negative reactions. "In that case, there's nothing I can think of... I should ask him directly."

"Do you know how to contact him?"

Then Silver Heart laughed and responded proudly. "I used to be a renowned spy, you know? I have plenty of ways to contact my old colleagues. Without anyone else knowing, either."

"Please ask him right away! Joker-san is depressed!"

Hachi pressed him hard, but Silver Heart knit his brows. "What? Right now?"

"...You can't?"

"It's just that today's not quite a good day for it..." Silver Heart stood up discreetly.

"Do you have plans, Grandpa?"

"Eh? No, well..."

Roko caught him casting a sideways glace at the newspaper. "Does it have something to do with the news?" Roko grabbed the newspaper and spread it out. One sheet had a headline reading "Queen of Pandora Makes Courtesy Call".

"Ah..."

"What's this?" Queen took the newspaper and started reading it. "The Queen of the country of Pandora is visiting France.'"

"Isn't this queen Grandpa's girlfriend? What's going on?" When Queen pulled her face out of the paper, there wasn't a trace of Silver Heart to be seen. "Huh? Huh? Where'd you go, Grandpa!?"

Evidently, Silver Heart had bolted off somewhere while everyone else was looking at the newspaper. Naturally, the legendary phantom thief was a master at running away.

"Argh! I wanted to hear more about Noir!"

"Queen-san, are you concerned about Noir-san too?" Hachi asked, curious.

"I mean, the fact that he outdid Joker is a testament to his abilities. He might be able to tell me something about how to beat Joker!"

"Makes sense..." Hachi saw the logic in what Queen had said. She looked like she had more color in her cheeks now despite the empty stomach. Hachi finished drinking his tea and stood up. "I'll be going now. Joker-san might come out of his room soon."

"Okay, bye now."

"Please tell Joker to not think too hard about it."

"Thank you. I enjoyed the food!" Hachi bobbed his head and left Silver Heart's hideout with Hosshi.

Blending in with the dark of night, the Sky Joker floated in the clear sky.

I wonder if he ate his meal... He had prepared Joker's favorite food, curry, today. Hachi fretted a little, before taking a breath. Just then, a voice came from his phone.

"Hachi, I heard everything."

"Eh!? Joker-san!?"

"Sorry, but I listened to what Master had to say using your phone." Joker had evidently tampered with Hachi's phone to listen to the conversation. Joker likewise seemed surprised to hear that Noir was Silver Heart's friend. "So, I thought up a way to get the better of Noir. Using the 'Lachla Crown' that Master mentioned."

"What do you mean?"

"Something happened between Master and Noir, and the crown's been targeted by Master now. It's only natural to assume that Noir showing up at this juncture must have something to do with the crown, yeah?"

"Oh, I see!"

"Now that that's established, let's go. Come back quick!"

"Roger! Ah, there's curry outside your door."

"Eeh, really? You could've told me that earlier!"

While the sound of scrambling came from the other end of the line, Hachi inflated Balloon Gum, picked up Hosshi, and flew up towards the Sky Joker. Internally, he thought about how glad he was that Joker was back to normal.

As he watched Hachi float up from the window, Roko contemplated. "I'm worried about Joker."

"Yeah~ munch munch... I'm worried too~" Queen responded, her mouth full of something. Roko turned around in surprise to see Queen munching on cookies.

"Huh!? Queen, what about your diet!?" Roko asked confusedly, only for Queen to smile.

"I mean, I can't very well fight on an empty stomach. I'll go on a diet some other time. Right now, I want to know more about Noir."

"You want to know more... but do you have anything to go off of?"

"It's simple. The easiest way is to ask someone who knows about Grandpa's past."

"Someone who knows his past...?"

As Roko gave her a blank look, Queen grabbed all of the cookies left on the plate and stuffed them into her mouth. "Munch munch... Aah! Cookies taste so good after restraining for so long!"

[midnighttmarauder]

First Steps

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Summary: Harry takes his first steps when you least expect it.

Warnings: none

***

You knew that raising a toddler wasn’t going to be easy. But raising a child that had James Potter for his father was an entirely different story. Harry was an exact replica of James—unruly black hair, a contagious laugh, and a talent for trouble, even though he had only just turned one. The only things that Harry seemed to get from you were your eyes and your hatred of peas. He had screamed bloody murder the first time he’d tried them, and you had made James vow to never bring peas into your home again.

Raising Harry was difficult, but every struggle was worth it. His first word was “mama”, and you’d sobbed for an hour straight after he had said it. James was hurt that Harry’s first word wasn’t “dada”, but when Harry eventually said it a week later, it was your turn to hold James as he cried. The first time Harry laughed was because James had conjured stars to float above him as he drank his milk. His tiny fists had reached to grab them, and James declared that he would make a fine seeker. Every time Harry smiled at you, you couldn’t help but smile back, no matter your mood or how tired you were.

The way that Harry looked at James made your heart swell. Now that Harry was one, he was more aware of his feelings, specifically what and who made him happy. He asked for uncle Sirius and uncle Remus when they weren’t visiting, and was always a little more quiet when James wasn’t home with you. He was a complete daddy’s boy, but you couldn’t blame him.

James treated Harry with a tenderness that you had never seen before. You knew that James would be a good father long before you had Harry, but when James burst into tears as soon as Harry was born, you knew. He let Harry fly around on the toy broom that Sirius had gifted him, but he was always right beside him to catch him if he fell. He held Harry when he had nightmares, tucked him in with stories about your time at Hogwarts. You couldn’t count how many times you had found James snoring on the couch with Harry curled up on his chest, fast asleep. You couldn’t really be upset that Harry was a daddy’s boy when it was so cute.

***

Harry was buzzing with more energy than usual. You’d told him when he had woken up that Sirius, Remus, and Lily were coming over for dinner, and he had been hyper ever since. It was a losing game asking him to sit still while you cleaned and prepared the food, and James had resulted to letting him crawl around the backyard in an attempt to get him to burn off some energy. Needless to say, it didn’t work.

The sun was just beginning to set when your friends rang your doorbell. You heard James coaxing Harry to clean up his toys in the sitting room as you dried your hands on a dishtowel and hurried to answer the door. Sirius gave you a wolfish grin and opened his arms, clutching a bottle of what looked suspiciously like firewhiskey in one hand. You gave him a tight hug and ushered him into your home.

“It’s been ages since I’ve seen you! Where’s Harry?” Sirius asked.

“In the sitting room with James,” you replied over your shoulder. Remus pulled you into a hug next, hiding a neatly wrapped box behind his back. He pushed into your hands with a flourish when you pulled away.

“Half of it’s for Harry, the other half is for you and James,” he said.

“You really didn’t have to,” you muttered.

“’Course I did. Don’t you know it’s rude to show up to a friend’s house without a gift?” Remus teased.

“Y/N!” a voice yelled. Before you had time to react, your vision was clouded with red as someone threw their arms around you. You stumbled backwards and laughed, pushing Lily’s hair out of your face.

“Oh Merlin, I’ve missed you,” you said. Lily pulled away and squeezed your shoulders with an excited squeal.

“Oi, the gang’s all here!” James exclaimed, walking over with Harry on his hip.

“There’s my godson!” Sirius yelled. He scooped Harry into his lap and twirled him around, pressing kisses all over his face. Remus and Lily followed suit, tickling Harry’s tummy and pinching at his cheeks.

“I’m here too, y’know,” James muttered. You leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Now you know how I felt when he was born.”

***

Harry settled down considerably during dinner. He sat in his highchair and nibbled at his food, listening intently to the five of you. When you laughed, he would laugh, despite not fully understanding what you were talking about. Harry squealed when you brought out dessert, and ended up with half of it in his belly and the other on his face and shirt. You sent him with James and the boys to get cleaned up as Lily helped you clean the kitchen.

“Harry’s adorable, Y/N. He looks more and more like James every time I see him,” she said.

“I know, he’s getting so big now. He tries to talk more, and he’s been trying to walk. I cry just thinking about him walking around here. Damn, I’m getting emotional just talking about it,” you replied. Lily laughed as you fanned at your eyes, and she put a hand on your shoulder. You busied yourself with wiping down Harry’s highchair, trying not to think about the day that he would no longer need it and would sit beside you in his own chair.

“Y/N, come quick! It’s Harry!” James yelled. Your heart leapt into your throat as you rushed towards the sitting room. Did he hit his head on the table? Was he choking on something? Did he put his finger in the socket or fall down the stairs or off his broom or—

“What’s wrong? Is Harry alright?” you asked. James rushed to your side and put his arm around your waist.

“He’s fine, sweetheart. Look,” he replied. Your eyes followed where James was pointing, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Is he…is he walking?” you muttered.

Harry had his hands wrapped around Sirius’ pointer fingers, and he giggled as he began to waddle towards you. His back foot dragged with every step, and his knees wobbled, but he was walking. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you dropped to your knees and held your arms out.

“Walk to mummy. C’mon, Harry, you can do it!” you encouraged. Sirius helped him toddle over to you, and just before he reached you, Harry let go on his own. He stood there for a moment, his eyes widening in fear, but with one look at your teary, smiling face, Harry walked the rest of the way to you. You scooped him into your lap as your friends erupted into cheers around you.

“That’s my boy!” James yelled, kneeling beside you. He pressed a kiss to your hair as you laughed incredulously.

“You’re walking, Harry! You did it!” you said. Harry smiled up at you and put his tiny palms on your cheeks.

“I can’t believe it,” James muttered. You cupped his jaw in your free hand, swiping at the tears on his cheekbones.

“I believe this calls for a toast,” Sirius said. He disappeared into the kitchen, and emerged a few seconds later with the bottle he had brought earlier. He poured each of you a drink and handed Harry his sippy cup, before raising his glass. “To my godson, Harry, for taking his first steps today. I have no doubt that every step he takes from this day on will be towards something wonderful.”

“To Y/N and James. For raising Harry into the beautiful, smart, funny little boy he is. I can’t wait to see who he grows up to be,” Lily added.

“And to us,” Remus said. “I am so lucky to call you all not just my friends, but my family. To Y/N and James, for being there through all the hardest times in our lives. We’re so thankful that you’ve allowed us to be a part of the happiest time of yours. And to Lily and Sirius—I can’t think of two people that I’d rather share the role of godparent with. Even if Harry likes Sirius a little more because he thinks that Padfoot is his dog.”

You wiped the tears from your cheeks and leaned back against James’ chest as you raised your glass. “To our family. James, Harry, and I are so blessed to have you in our lives,” you said.

“To our family. We love you,” James echoed. You all clinked your glasses together, not forgetting to bump them against Harry’s sippy cup, and drank.

“Anything you’d like to add, Harry?” you asked. He thought for a minute, staring up at you with his big, beautiful eyes.

“Mama,” he said.

“Hear, hear!”

[fallowdoe]

All roads lead to Hell

MC gets kidnapped and has to make their way through Hell to reunite with everyone.

GN!reader x everyone (can be treated as platonic/romantic)

Trigger warnings for this chapter: none

I apologise for the quality of writing however this is a translated version of my fic.

If anyone is interested in that I was listening to Casey tells the truth, the whole Split soundtrack is my big inspiration for this story. I’d advise onto playing it in the background while reading.

Chapter 1 - Prolouge  ⇒

A few candles lit up the room. The gentle light was adding to its already mysterious aura. Solomon’s dorm was filled with all kind of grimoires and spellbooks. The floor was covered with tons of torn-out pages and patterns drawn on a yellowish paper.

Trying out one spell after another MC seemed to grow more and more annoyed. The upcoming exam was one of the most important ones and Solomon’s constant teasing wasn’t the most helpful.

"Focus or you won’t get anything done, MC." The sorcerer stated while leaning against a wall. He wasn’t even trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

"I am focused" They mumbled irritated. It was their ninth try of casting this, so-called easy, spell. A marble laying on the table seemed to look at them pitifully. It was a one bastard piece of glass. Even more irritated MC moved their hand above it once again. 

"Neque ultra intuebitur eum" they mumbled. The space around them seemed to start drawing energy towards their hand. A quiet electric buzz filled their ears and they could feel their cheeks heat up. But just as they were about to direct the energy towards the toy it would suddenly unload. The marble remained untouched, and MC could bet that if it was possible it’d poke its tongue at them. Or maybe even raise a very specific finger up. "Neque ultra intuebitur eum!"

Nothing. 

"No! It’s impossible! It’s impossible and that’s it! You gave me a broken marble." They grunted and dramatically sat on a chair pouting. 

Solomon snickered at them and approached the table. He muttered the words of the spell and the marble was gone immediately. 

"Cheater. I bet it was enchanted or something." 

"Maybe." He smirked. "Try again."

MC groaned under their breath but stood up again. The sorcerer walked up to them and placed his hand on their arm giving them a reassuring look. "That’s gonna be seriously lame if you fail again tho.” 

They replied with a huff and tried to refocus. Closing their eyes, MC began collecting energy again. It was a weird feeling. Suddenly they’d notice that the whole room was in fact like a river full of it. Their task was to change its current toward themself. This spell didn’t require a lot of effort, only a bit of thought. Stronger spells could even sweep someone off with an uncontrolled current.

 They’d never admit it but sorcerer’s touch was rather helpful. It made them feel grounded. Goosebumps rose on their hand. They cast the spell again. 

"Lame." He chuckled.

"Huh?!” Their eyes shot open searching for the marble but the table was empty. They laughed and playfully punched his chest, making him laugh. "Asshole.”

Content, MC threw themself on the bed as a mark of their victory, Solomon was quick to follow. 

"You realize that this was shit compared to regular magic?” watching them struggle was incredibly amusing to him, apparently. 

"Like I don’t know" They frowned. He smiled in response and laid back next to them. 

The silence of the room, moving flames of the candles and its overall aura was really comforting.

"You should be able to pass the exam tho" he mentioned. 

"It’s a lot, you know? Everything." MC wondered. 

"I know." 

"I just can’t wrap my mind around it.” They began playing with their hair. 

"You could do much more without a hassle.” He stated like it was something obvious and leaned on his elbows while looking at them with a smirk.

"Wow, thanks for being an asshole.” They muttered, the hair they were playing with fell on their face. 

"A supportive asshole.” 

"I’m not sure if I could do more.” They spoke trying to blow the curl off. Hesitation making its way in their voice. "It’s still too new and…” 

”Overwhelming?” 

"Yeah… Convincing someone that hell is real is one thing but throwing them inside is something else.” They followed gentle shadows of the flames on the ceiling with their eyes.

"Why? You’d prefer a flaming river and little red devils instead of your seven demon boyfriends?” 

Both of them laughed at the image of the brothers' with spiked tails and tridents. 

"No, I don’t think I would.”

 Empty walls of RAD were enhancing every sound, making every single word echo for a few seconds before disappearing.

 "MC, ya comin’ or what?" Mammon was standing at the end of the hallway talking with Beel. 

"Just a second!" they screamed while taking stuff out of their locker and putting it in a bag. They were planning on returning to the House of Lamentation as soon as the school day was over to prepare for an exam. But their Devildom History textbook was nowhere to be seen. "Ugh, I left a textbook in the classroom. Wait for me, I’ll go get it!" 

"Just hurry up! I’m not explainin’ to Lucifer why we’re late again!" 

The palace garden was full of exotic flowers, nothing like what they’d seen before. The number of colours and shapes worked wonders, some of the plants were gently glowing and lighting up the eternal night. Some had spots and some seemed to move on their own. MC could swear that they could even hear glassy sounds of a few.

"No matter how many times I see those flowers they always amaze me.” Diavolo was lazily examining the garden grounds. "Some of them only grow here. I’m doing what I can to keep them from going extinct. The species come from all of the three realms. That’s why you can spot some familiar ones.” He explained. ”I’m hoping to replant them one day on its original grounds.” 

"Thanks to magic?” MC was sipping on some tea. 

"Thanks to a good gardener, actually.” Barbatos smiled.

"Oh.” Both men laughed at their confusion. 

The quiet evenings in Lord Diavolo’s castle were a nice change from their usual ones. Their small chats quickly turned into a regular thing, always accompanied by a nice tea made by Barbatos.

"Magic definitely helps as well.” 

The wind was shyly blowing between the palace columns. Moth-alike creatures were roaming the garden, their wings glooming in the soft darkness. 

"I don’t think I can get used to it. The magic.” 

"Maybe, it’s a good thing. Living in constant awe of something." The Demon Lord smiled and gave them a soothing look. 

They quietly hummed in response.

 Lucky for them, the classroom was open. They entered not bothering to turn the lights on. The lost textbook was waiting for them on their desk. A dark and empty classroom felt really heavy, MC grabbed the book and just as they were about to return to the hallway they noticed an envelope that must have been hidden underneath it. 

"What? " They muttered. An elegant paper and a wax stamp made it look important. If not for their name written on the back they’d probably leave it alone in fear of getting hexed or pranked. Instead, curiosity made them break the stamp. 

 "Geez, what is taking ‘em so long?" Mammon huffed. They were gone for only a few minutes but making HIM wait was quite an offence.

"Maybe we should go and check on them" Beel mumbled from between his sandwich bites. 

"Hm, to get lost on your way for a textbook. Dumb human." Mammon stated annoyed. He was energetically tapping his foot.

"Come on, they probably locked themself in the classroom or something."

   As soon as MC fished the sheet of paper from inside the letter, they started shivering. Cold air began circling them, their vision fading. All the sounds of the world around them suddenly gone. Sudden exhaustion taking over them, an empty void. It was a calm, soothing sensation. Like falling asleep…

  "It’s empty” Beel stated exiting another classroom. 

"Ow, come on! They gotta be somewhere ‘ere!" anxiety was slowly making its way in Mammon’s voice. 

"Try this one – he pointed at the door on the other side of the hallway." 

"If they’re not in the…" a powerful charge of energy went off when he tried to reach for the doorknob leaving both demons in shock for a second. 

"MC!" Mammon bailed inside an empty classroom. 

Loud voices filling the House of Lamentation kept the atmosphere tense.

"So they forgot a textbook…" Lucifer tried to keep calm, but his furrowed brows showed how tense he actually was. "…and went to get it…"

"Yeah!"

"…alone." He shot his brother a disapproving look. 

A guilty nod. 

"So, you went after them and discovered a sudden burst of energy in the classroom." The whole situation was more than inconvenient. It was a tragedy to be specific. An exchange student disappearing on the grounds of the academy. The exact one who couldn’t protect themself from any magic. The foreign trace of a powerful spell didn’t make the situation any better. The eldest took a quick glance across the room.

"We found this." Beel pointed at their textbook laying on the table. 

"Are you sure that they just didn’t go somewhere?" Satan uttered.     

"I’m tellin’ ya how it went! They’re just gone like that!”

"They sure can’t be far, right?" Asmo’s question was left unanswered. 

A motion of loud voices filled the room, everyone discussing what might have happened.

Lord Diavolo approached the table with a stern look on his face. If it was true that something happened to MC while they were at RAD then he was the one at fault for not keeping the academy grounds safe for them. He took the book and examined it. Devildom history. It had MC’s name written on the first page. Nothing appeared to be wrong with it. Just a regular textbook. "It’s just a textbook if anything had to do with their disappearance it couldn’t be it. Is Solomon on his way here?" 

"Yes, I called him a while ago he should be here anytime." Lucifer confirmed. 

It wasn’t even about the project anymore, MC was missing and it filled all of them with an unpleasant feeling of guilt.

"Can’t Barbatos use his powers and find them?”

The butler sadly shook his head.

What previously was a state of anxiety, now was slowly shifting into a panic whit every passing hour. As long as they were alone in Devildom, they definitely weren’t safe. 

"Something happened to MC?!" Luke’s voice caught their attention. 

Both angels and Solomon were standing in the entrance to the dining room, looking rather startled. 

"We don’t know yet." Diavolo stated calmly. 

They joined everyone by the table and Solomon took the textbook. He gave Diavolo a specific look and the demon lord nodded in response. He started studying it. 

"Are they safe?! Why aren’t you worried?!" the young angel kept questioning. 

"I’m sure that MC’s okay." Simeon’s white lies weren’t exactly suited for an angel. 

"Of course, everyone is worried." Belphegor stated irritated. "That’s why we called you!" 

Solomon tried to quiet out the rambling and kept examining the book, but just like Diavolo confirmed, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about it. That was unless he opened it and a single sheet of paper fell out.

[impala-dreamer]

Two Weeks Notice - Day Eight

~With the world practicing self-isolation, Y/N and Dean break all the rules of social distancing and common decency as they explore an empty bunker and use the time alone to their playful advantage…~

Dean x Reader

3,575 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Toy Play. Edging. Remote Control Vibe. Dom!Dean. Sir!Kink. Sex in an uncomfortable place (not the back of a volkswagen).

Two Weeks Notice Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ My Original Works on Amazon

Y/N stood at the side of the bed and checked the time on her phone again, deciding enough was enough.

Very slowly, she slid into bed beside Dean and curled up next to him, tucking her knees and hands against her chest. She was careful not to touch him, not wanting him to wake just yet. She stared for a while, like she loved to do, attempting for the thousandth time to count every freckle on his sleeping face. She never made it past thirty before he either woke to disrupt her or she got so distracted by his beauty that she lay into kissing him instead.

She interrupted herself this time, too excited not to rouse him. With the tip of her index finger, Y/N softly traced the line of his nose from bridge to tip and then again as she whispered his name.

“Dean…”

He wriggled his nose and huffed. “I’m asleep.”

She laughed under her breath and ran her finger over his nose again. “Time to get up.”

He groaned and jerked his head to the side, trying to swat her away. “You promised me a nap.”

“And nap you did. It’s nearly three. Get up.” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. She meant to hop out of bed immediately after, but Dean’s reflexes were quick, and he grabbed her arm, yanking her down for a proper kiss.

His arm locked her to him, clamping down and around the small of her back like a gate closing. He moaned into her mouth, leisurely licking at her gasping lips, and Y/N felt the stir of desire ready to distract her fully.

“Nope!” She pushed him back and sat up, quickly shaking off the shiver of need.

Dean popped up as well. “Excuse me?” His forehead creased adorably as he questioned her departure.

Y/N crossed her arms. “I have plans for today.”

Dean groaned and fell back against his pillow. “You always have plans.”

Offended, Y/N pushed at his nearest shoulder and damn near rolled him out of bed. “We can stop anytime you want. Just sit here and stare at the walls for another week.”

Dean sighed. “Fine.”

“Don’t fucking sigh at fucking. What’s wrong with you, old man?”

He half turned, glaring over his shoulder at her.

“Stop being grumpy and go get the blue box from under my bed.”

“You get it.”

Y/N swiftly removed her shirt and tossed it in his face. “You get it.”

Dean rubbed a tired hand down his face and sat up, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “Why do you need your photos now?”  

“Photos are in the green box,” she corrected. “I want the blue box. It’s towards the headboard next to the hatchet.”

He paused, hand on the doorknob. “Why do you have a hatchet under your bed?”

Y/N shrugged and settled into the pillows. “Grimes Protocol.”

Dean laughed and shook his head as he stepped into the hallway. “The Walking Dead isn’t real, Y/N!”

Grinning, she shimmied out of her panties. “You don’t know what this Corona-thing is gonna do! I’d rather be safe than dead!”

Her room wasn’t very far and even if it was, with the empty hallway, it was easy enough to talk through the space between. His voice was a little muffled by the distance, but Y/N could just picture his face.

“Holy crap!”

“Pick one!”

“What do you mean pick one?”

Y/N sat up and pushed her voice towards the open door. “I mean, pick one and get back here with it!”

“Can I pick two?”

She chewed her lip for a moment. She knew what was in the box and would not be opposed to him using more than one at a time. Not at all.

Before she could reply, Dean yelled, “Hey, what’s this pink squiggly thing?”

Her eyes lit up and her nipples hardened with excitement. “Bring it!”

The ‘pink squiggly thing’ was an internal, remote controlled vibrator, and one of Y/N’s favorite toys. Dean was a little annoyed that she had never shared the contents of her toy box with him, and thus decided to use the remote control app to his advantage, in a little game that he was making up as he was going along.

For the rest of the day, Y/N was to wear the toy, and only the toy, as she went about her usual routine. There were plenty of chores to be done around the Bunker, and Y/N was going to do them all while Dean did whatever he wanted. The catch was simple: whenever she got buzzed, she would fall to her knees and crawl to wherever Dean was and service him in any way he chose. It was only fair.

After all, she had disturbed his nap.

There was something intensely erotic about walking around the Bunker naked. Dean had been nice enough to let her wear socks, as the floors were always cold, but the rest of her was completely bare, on display for the ghosts that haunted the tiles.

Of course, there weren’t really any ghosts, but as she walked down the halls, she imagined the Men of Letters of old gasping and clutching their hearts as they saw her defiling their sacred underground lair. Oh, how they’d lose their minds.

With a proud smile, she shook her hips a little more as she carried the laundry basket to the machine. Even under quarantine, socks must be washed.

As she set the basket down in front of the washer, she felt a wave of vibration deep inside her cunt. Her body stiffened and her muscles squeezed against it, momentarily blocking any brain function as the pleasure took her by surprise. When she could think, she immediately dropped to her knees on the cold tile and turned, ready to crawl to her newly appointed master.

Dean wasn’t far, leaning in the doorway with a smirk on his lips and his phone in hand. He swiped his finger across the app and the vibration intensified, making Y/N shiver as she crossed the room to sit at his feet.

“Very good!” he praised, resisting the urge to reach down and pat her head like a dog. He knew she liked to be degraded, but that would probably have earned him a hard flick in the nuts.

Y/N licked her lips and sat back on her heels, clenching her thighs as the buzzer kept doing its job. She looked up and smiled, waiting. “How may I service you, Dean?”

He hummed and dropped the intensity. “Dean,” he echoed. “Sounds so... informal.”

She bit back a smirk. “I’m sorry.” Clearing her throat and squeezing her tits together, she tried again. How may I service you, Mr. Winchester?”

“Better,” he said with a shrug, tapping his screen to make the buzzing pulse at a steady pace. “But...let’s try… Sir. I think I’d like to hear that.”

Y/N closed her eyes as a wave of pleasure overtook her momentarily. She’d been wanting to call him that forever, that and more, but it was an awkward conversation. However, if they were already playing, and he was offering…

“Yes, Sir,” she cooed, looking up at him and batting her eyes. “How may I service you?”

A smile broke out across his face. “Oh, I like the sound of that.” He cocked his head and looked her over, deciding where to start. “Why don’t you rub those pretty tits for me? I want to see how hard your nipples can get.”

Y/N bit her lip and nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Both hands cupped her breasts and she bounced them for him, watching as his eyes widened with delight. A few twists and tugs on her nipples had them standing tall and each tweak made her shoulders twitch.

When her breath began to get heavy and her eyes refused to open, Dean turned off the app and her vibrator and shoved his phone in his back pocket. “That’s all for now. Get back to work.”

Y/N’s eyes were huge as he spun on his heel and walked away, shocked that he was actually leaving her like that. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself as she climbed to her feet. “It’s gonna be a long day.”

Dean was in the Library when Y/N walked in with her duster. She and Sam had a routine worked out where she knocked the dust onto the floor and he mopped it up. Seemed sort of silly for her to be reaching up so high when he was so tall already, but she figured the boys liked watching her climb and stretch and bend.

Dean was certainly appreciating it now. He pretended to read a book, something he had grabbed from the shelf without looking at the spine as he jumped into the armchair to beat her into the room, but his eyes were glued to Y/N’s bare ass as she fluttered around the room, cleaning.

As she dusted, she hummed to herself. It was a sweet familiar melody, something that Dean felt had a Disney ring to it. He smiled and gave up the ruse, closing the book in his lap and resting his chin in his hand, elbow on the arm of the chair.

Her nakedness stood out starkly against the stacks of books; she looked like a faerie floating about, whipping away dust with her feathery wings.

“So this is love...do do do do... so this is love…” Y/N made her way through the Library, flicking away every drop of dust and totally ignoring Dean. She could feel his eyes on her body, following wherever she went, but she kept her mind on her task. When she felt that she’d done enough, she looked around, hands on her naked hips, and nodded. “Very nice.”

Another swoosh of feathers against the nearest shelf and she took off, heading into the next room. As her foot hit the bottom stop, her vibrating bat signal went off.

Taken so by surprise, the feather duster fell from her hand like an angel falling from heaven. “Oh my…” She moaned at the violent pulsing against her g-spot and sank to her knees, slowly turning towards Dean.

His eyes were dark and mischievous as he controlled the toy, thumb sliding back and forth across the screen, mucking with the intensity and speed of the vibrations. With his free hand, he crooked a finger at her and puckered his lips, calling to her with two quick air kisses. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

Y/N crawled to him, hands and knees flat on the polished floor, bare ass high and open for any eyes that would have a week ago been passing by. She shivered at the thought and bit her lip, holding in a tiny moan of weakness as Dean drove the toy to its highest setting.

As she grew closer, he let her stimulation ebb, slowly subsiding to a light and steady wave. She sank down further, laying on her forearms, panting slightly as she looked up at him.

Dean set the book down on the end table next to him and leaned forward, clasping his hands, elbows on his knees. “Hey there,” he grinned, body tingling with the power he held over her. “How ya feelin’?”

Almost out of breath, Y/N looked up, stretching her neck awkwardly to meet his gaze. “I’m pretty fucking horny, actually.”

Dean laughed and licked his lips. He scooted to the edge of the chair so he was even closer to her and whispered, “Is your pussy nice and wet?”

His voice ran down her spine like fire, and she nodded. “Very wet, Sir.”

He tapped his upper lip with one finger and then sat back, getting comfortable. “So play with it,” he ordered casually, resting one hand on his right thigh, watching.

Y/N swallowed hard and sat up, spreading her knees wide as she rested on her heels. One hand fell behind her, palm flat on the cold floor as the other slid down her belly and tapped gently on her clit. She bit her lip as the pleasure rolled through her; the vibe inside, her hand on her clit, it was all breathtaking and delicious.

Dean watched on as she rubbed, fiddling now and then with the controls. He loved the tremble in the soft flesh of her thighs; the way she began to bounce as if on his cock as she got closer to cumming. He kept a closer eye on that edge, making sure she rode it as long as possible without tipping over. When her stomach tightened too much, he eased up on the vibrations. When her panting ceased, he turned it up. When her eyes began to roll and her jaw hung slack, letting out heated moans, he cut the power, turning the toy off completely.

“Wha-hey!” Y/N’s eyes popped open and she pouted, near to tears as she was denied once more.

“Hands off, Princess,” he told her, clearing his throat and picking up his book. Dean crossed one leg and turned to a random page, tearing his eyes from Y/N’s shivering body. “Get back to work.”  

She grumbled to herself as she struggled to her feet, using a nearby chair for help. “You suck.”

Dean lifted a brow, but not his head. “What’s that?”

“Nothing…”

Dinner came and went with Y/N still naked, sitting at the table on a dishcloth. Dean let her be for a while, keeping his phone and the app safely tucked in his pocket. She had even gotten used to being naked in the open. It felt sexy, freeing, if not a little chilly now and then.

Somehow, Dean managed to keep his hands off of her the entire day, not even accidentally brushing against her or playing footsie under the table. Nothing stopped him from looking, however, and he spent his quiet time memorizing the curves and movements that he never got to see in the dark. She was perfectly imperfect, just like him.

After dinner, Dean disappeared, leaving Y/N alone to do the dishes and clean up. She’d just about finished putting the utensils away when her page went off, sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

“Fuck.” She turned around, but Dean wasn’t in the room with her. “Dean?”

There was no answer, but the buzzing increased. Y/N dropped to her knees and crawled quickly from the kitchen, wondering where he’d gotten to and hoping the remote didn’t have too long of a range.

“Dean?” she called again to no response, growing more aroused and annoyed as the stunt went on. She’d have to crawl the entire Bunker looking for him if he didn’t answer. Her knees were starting to protest as she toddled up the steps into the War Room, but the pulsing in her cunt took some of the edge off.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Tisk. Tisk.” His voice boomed through the giant room, her toy speeding up as he scolded her. “Mind your manners, missy.”

Still on her hands and knees, Y/N looked around the War Room, unable to find him anywhere. He was a disembodied voice teasing her from another world.

“Dean, come on…”

“You need to crawl to me,” he said loudly, “that was the deal.”

She gasped as he pushed the toy to its limit. “Yeah but...where- fuck- are you?”

Y/N teetered on her knees as Dean laughed at her predicament. She crawled on, moving towards the table.

“Warmer.”

Biting her lip, she listened to his echoing directions, crawling closer to the table. When she reached it, the buzzing subsided enough to catch her breath, and she turned towards the Library archway.

“Colder!”

Y/N spun back and continued through the room. As she neared the stairs, the vibrations increased and Dean guided her home.

“Hot.”

Slowly, she sat back on her feet and looked up the long metal staircase.

Dean waved and grinned smugly from his seat at the chess set on the balcony. “Boiling.”

Y/N’s hands instinctively flew to her hips. “Are you kidding me?”

With a swipe of his finger, Dean upped the pleasure and Y/N fell back down into crawling position.

“Imma kill you.”

Dean laughed. “I don’t think that’s likely.”  

One step at a time, Y/N climbed, fingers curling into the ornate grates, knees pushing into the smooth metal. It was cold and hard but she managed, keeping her mind in the gutter, comforted and fueled by the intimate pleasure of her favorite toy, controlled by her favorite asshat.

Dean hid his surprise well when she reached him, figuring Y/N would have given up halfway up the winding staircase. “Welcome,” he teased, lowering the speed. “Nice of you to join me.”

She was panting already, out of breath from her climb. “Nice of you to pick such an easily accessible location.”

Her sass was vibrant and Dean bit his lip, grinning.

“How’s your sweet little cunt doing?” he asked, tip of his tongue pressing between his teeth.

Y/N shivered. “It’s...good.”

“Just good?” His thumb waved over the controls, brushing the toggle back and forth.

“V-very good.”

Dean let her linger in that moment of fluctuating pleasure and sat back, opening his jeans while he watched her twitch. He set the control to a setting called “fireworks” and lay his phone down, taking his cock in his hands instead. He stroked it slowly while the explosions went off inside her pussy.

“What does it feel like?” he asked, lips puckering as he jerked his cock.

Eyes closed and lips shaking, Y/N shook her head, unable to find an answer. “Like...like you’re drumming inside me. Like lightning… like… fuck- I don’t know.” Her eyes popped open and locked on his erection, mouth flooding at the sight.

Dean smirked. “Do you want it?”

She nodded.

“Tell me where.”

She chewed her lip hard, brows furrowing tight, chest heaving. “I…”

Dean fisted his cock, squeezing at the base. “Tell me where you want it.”

“In my pussy,” she begged, chin quivering, near to tears. “Please, Dean. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Please!”

“Get up here.”

Moaning with relief, Y/N jumped up into his lap, kissing him wildly as his hands locked around her back. She licked into his mouth, bit at his ear, sucked his lip between her teeth. She’d been too crazed all day, too desperate to hold back any longer. She felt his cock against her belly and bounced, rubbing her throbbing clit against his veiny underside.

Dean grunted. His blunt nails dug into her ass.

“Fuck me, Dean.”

Her whisper floated through him and he grabbed her tight, standing up and spinning, dropping her onto the empty chess set. She gasped but settled quickly, wiggling into place on the oversized antique gameboard. He dropped his jeans, letting them collect around the tops of his boots and then reached down to yank the still vibrating toy from her cunt.

Y/N cried out as the toy dislodged, a flood of hot built-up slick running down her ass as it went. “Fuck!”

“I’m getting to it!” Dean huffed back, tossing the toy over his shoulder. It hit the railing and disappeared down below, to be remembered only by a faint buzzing as it danced across the glowing table.

Y/N grabbed hold of the back of his neck and scooted down to the edge of the board, wrapping her legs tight around him. He sank inside without hesitation or restriction, covering himself in her wet flesh, hiding deep inside.

It was fast and hard, the way she came on his cock; her pussy clamping down on him as he thrust in and out. Hours of torture, being played with and edged had left her a sloppy mess, and Dean savored every second. He kissed her breathless, keeping his eyes open so he could watch hers roll. He nipped at her collarbone and rubbed at her clit.

She had been waiting all day, but so had he.

The pawns and bishops rolled inside the table, safe in their velvet cubbies. The pink toy died a slow death, battery draining somewhere around South America.

Above the empty Bunker, not far from the big steel door,  Dean made her cum again, rolling her first orgasm into another, his thumb winding around her clit until she screamed at the soreness, slapping him away.

He set his hands beside her head, fingers curling around the edges of the old wood, pulling it close as his hips pushed forward. The thick muscles of his arms strained against his shortsleeves and Y/N pressed her nails deep into his biceps, clawing at him, her teeth grit, eyes dark and exhausted.

“Come on, Dean,” she urged, voice deep and cracking. “Give it to me, please.”

His jaw clenched, sweat beading on his upper lip and brow.

“Cum inside me, Dean. Please.”

Another rough jerk of his hips sent him over. Dean trembled over her, phantom thrusts pushing him even deeper as he emptied into her.

When the best had passed, he looked down with a goofy smile. Green eyes glazed, freckled cheeks bright, lips swollen and red as he laughed, “Checkmate.”

2020 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278​ @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart​ @amanda-teaches​ @because-imma-lady-assface​ @broiderie​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @cheritzie​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @covered-byroses​ @crashdevlin​ @deansotherotherblog​ @deansgirl215​ @deanwanddamons​ @defenderrosetyler​ @dontshootmespence​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @focusonspn​ @hannahindie​ @herbologystudent252​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @justcallmeasmodeus​ @ladyjenny19​ @laxe-from-outer-space @mariekoukie6661​ @missjenniferb​ @msjava1972​ @mylovelydame21​ @mysticmaxie​ @pilaxia​ @sandlee44​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @squirrelnotsam​ @tatted-trina6​ @typicalweirdbookworm​ 

TWN: 

@rebelemilu​ @pastathighs​ @deans-baby-momma​ @bobbie3939​ @peachyafshawn​ @spencer-reids-babygirl @akrasiaev @shadowkat-83​ @deangirl7695​ @foxyjwls007 @bxbyizzy​ @chenshemesh1 @pandaxo79 

[definitelynotkatesblog]

7 Years ∣ Spencer Reid Fic

Summary: Spencer helps ground Reader after an all-too-real nightmare and the panic attack that follows.

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Category: Angst/Fluff

A/N: ⚠️ Please read! ⚠️ I would really recommend against reading this if PTSD, s*xual assault and panic attacks are triggering for you. Take care, always ❤️

Content Warning: Mentions of implied kidnapping and sexual assault, non-con bondage, non-con groping and face slapping, description of panic attack

Word count: 1.6k

Ow. Why is it dark? Everything hurts. My wrists hurt. I can’t see. I can’t see. Why does everything hurt? Where am I?

“Oh look who is awake. Welcome back, Agent.”

Who is that? I don’t recognize this voice. He has an accent. Where from? Russia? No, Czech. No-

A hand on my chin is gripping hard. Squeezing hard. I can’t move it off. I can’t move my hands. My wrists hurt. I’m screaming but there’s no air in my lungs to make a sound. I flail my hands and feel the familiar rubbing of rope biting into the skin of my wrists.

“I like when the bitches try to fight. Makes more fun.”

Another voice laughs. I whip my head towards the source.

“This one fights hard, no?”

The voice close to my face laughs. His breath fills my face, reeking of stale cigarettes and liquor. Vodka, maybe?

The big hand leaves my face and travels down my neck, dragging across my collarbone and down my chest. It skates across my chest and stops to cup my breast through my bra.

No no no no.

Where is my shirt? Why can’t I see? Why aren’t my hands moving? Everything hurts.

The man laughs and continues kneading and squeezing my breast.

Okay no hands. I kick instead, swinging my legs like all hell. My foot lands a blow, confirmed by the grunt and pained groan from the voice close to me, echoing throughout the room.

It’s silent before a grunt bellows from the man in front of me and the sound of flesh on flesh striking cuts the air as his hand connects with my cheek.

“Fucking bitch,” he growls. The sting spreads across my face and I can taste the blood in my mouth.

A hand is back on my jaw, twisting it to the side while the other returns to my chest, kneading the other breast.

His hands disappear for a moment then are back on my body- this time from behind me. They unbutton my pants, tugging them down my legs. His hands are calloused and mean harsh, grabbing handfuls of skin from my ass and thighs, inching dangerously close to the only remaining part of my body covered by thin fabric between my thighs.

NO NO NO NO NO

I thrash, kicking and trying to scream for them to stop. There’s no air in my lungs and my screams won’t make any noise.

It’s dark. His hands. Get them off. Where the fuck am I? Stop fucking touching me. No no no no. Oh god. What the fuck.

“(Y/N)?” a whisper calls. It’s so far away but I know the voice. It’s familiar and soft compared to the hands on me. “(Y/N)?”

I follow the voice, craning my neck in its direction. If I could just...

I feel an uncharacteristic softness on my hand and immediately recoil, snapping my eyes open at the contact. A sharp inhale of cool air fills my lungs and suffocates me.

****

I sit up and look around me. I’m not in that room. I’m not tied up. I’m here on the jet.

These realizations do nothing to help me control my breathing.

My vision gets fuzzy and dark along the edges, and I can’t bring enough air into my lungs or keep it there long enough to count as breathing. My skin is buzzing and my head feels detached from my body. The seat belt at my waist is too tight. Panic induced adrenaline courses through my veins creating an inescapable pit of dread in my stomach.

I double over, clutching my stomach trying to force my head between my knees to keep myself together- a feat considering I was falling apart at a staggering rate in several different directions.

“(Y/N), breathe. Hey, focus on my voice. Breathe.”

I fight to follow the voice. I know it. It’s safe. It’s Spencer.

“Breathe with me,” he took a strong inhale and blew it out. “Can you sit up?” he asked quietly.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I bring myself back to a seated position. I pull ragged breaths into my lungs and keep my eyes shut.

“Breathe. You are safe. I’m here with you.”

My head hits the back of the plush seat behind me, focusing my energy on breathing and unballing my hands from the fists they’d formed.

“You’re safe. I’m here with you and we’re breathing. You’re safe.”

I nod as more hot tears slip down my cheeks.

Once I was able to breathe, I pulled my head up. I rubbed my wrists, ensuring they weren’t bound. My eyes flew to my chest followed by my hands, inspecting the flesh to ensure mine were the only ones there.

Running my hands up and down my thighs to dry the sweat, my eyes darted around the jet. Rossi, Hotch, Emily, JJ, and Derek were all sound asleep.

I came to focus on the face in front of me. Spencer. His features are soft and warm, almost foreign to the things my body was feeling.

“Can you tell me three things you can see, (Y/N)?” he asked softly.

I purse my lips and nod for a moment, scanning the small area around us. “Water bottle, blanket, couch.”

He nodded as encouragement. “What about three things you can hear?”

We’d often use this technique for victims who were having panic attacks and needed to get back in touch with reality after a cognitive interview got too intense. Derek always said panic was a hell of a drug- it makes the imaginary as real as the air we breathe.

I stared hard at his chest across from me, trying to focus on the intricate stitched pattern of his tie.

“Engine. Rossi snoring. A/C.”

“Good. That’s good.”

My eyes met his as he gave me another small smile. “Three things you can feel?”

Tears stung the back of my eyes, and I was suddenly exhausted without the adrenaline coursing through my body.

“Clothes. Socks.” I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees to mirror his position in front of me. I took one of his hands in both of mine and turned it over a few times before giving it a gentle squeeze. “You. I can feel you. You’re here and you’re real.” I finished quietly, keeping my eyes on his hand, unable to meet his eyes. I was afraid of what I would see if I looked.

“Socks could be considered clothes, but I’ll let it slide,” he joked.

I playfully dropped his hand and sat back in my seat, hugging my arms around my torso.

I zoned out for a moment, but when I came to, Spencer was sharing a statistic about the effects of PTSD. “... including night terrors.”

“Yeah, I know.”

A heavy silence fell between us for a few minutes that I mentally begged him not to break.

“Is it the same one as last time?” he asked quietly, fidgeting with his thumbs in his lap.

I stared out the window to my right and shook my head on a bitter half-laugh. “It’s always the same one, Spence.”

He didn’t move. He just watched for a moment.

It was me who broke the silence this time. Not taking my eyes off of the dark sky through the window, I could feel tears spilling down my cheeks again. I blinked and brushed them away with my thumb and wiped my nose with my sleeve.

“It’s always the same one. I’m right back in that room, Spence. And he’s touching me and I can’t stop him and I can’t scream because there’s no sound and there’s no air and it’s so dark and all I can feel is dirty and scared, Spence I-”

He leaned forward and coaxed my hands from their position in my lap, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs. His voice was low as his eyes bore into mine.“He’s dead. He’s gone and he cannot hurt you. He will never hurt you again. You are safe.” He spoke with such conviction I almost believed him.

“I know that. I know, I just can still feel him on me. His hands on my skin.” I chewed my bottom lip and tried to remember the hands holding mine were safe and trustworthy.

He pursed his lips for a moment. “It takes roughly 7 years for your body to completely cycle through all of its cells. That means in 87 days, 6 hours and 42 minutes you will have a whole new body that he never touched.”

I processed that for a moment and gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Spence.”

“Of course, (Y/N).” he gave my hands another squeeze. “I’ll always be here for you. Whatever you need.”

I toyed with the idea. I didn’t doubt that he would oblige if I asked, I just didn’t want to be wrong about it helping more than hurting.

He arched a concerned brow.

“Would you-” I tried and failed to find the least weird way to ask him for what I needed- “Could-?”

A warm, understanding smile touched his lips and melted the worry lines in his forehead. He nodded silently and stood, grabbing a blanket before making his way to the seat beside me.

He settled in and tucked the blanket over us, raising his arm for me to snuggle under. I curled up into his side and let his arm come down around me. My head rested on his chest, listening to the beating of his heart and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

My eyes fluttered shut and I slowly started to drift off, but not before feeling a gentle kiss pressed on the top of my head.

——-

Let’s talk!