#my fatherly tingles are tingling.

[starry-eyed-lord]

My baby, my baby...

[arvandus]

A Cup of Affection (Part 1)

Pairing: Barbatos x f!reader

Content warnings: cisfem!reader; short-coded reader (or tall Barbatos, you pick!); reader's hair is able to be tucked behind the ear/brushed aside, but no further description provided; a lil’ steamy toward the end but no actual smut (that’ll be in part 2 *evil laugh*); reader loves sweets/sweet drinks; not proofread (watch me edit spelling/grammar errors later after this has been reblogged....)

**MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW OR INTERACT**

(divider credit goes to @benkeibear)

It was the worst thing he could have ever heard uttered from your lips.

“I think I’d actually prefer coffee today, if that’s okay.”

Barbatos stared at you dumfounded as if you’d grown a second head.  You flustered under his gaze, your fingers fidgeting and eyes dropping.

“I mean, if it’s not too much trouble,” you stuttered.  Your next words came out in a rush.  “Don’t get me wrong, I love your tea! It’s just... I used to drink it all the time back home, and I’m feel a little nostalgic for it.”

Ah, you were so cute when you got flustered... Barbatos could feel his resolve fracture just the slightest, and he tightened his mental control, like sealing a crack in a teacup.

Diavolo laughed.  “There’s no need to worry.  Barbatos’s coffee is just as divine as his tea. I’m sure it’ll be no trouble at all.  Besides, he just went to the market yesterday and restocked the kitchens.  Isn’t that right?”

Diavolo looked at him expectantly, innocence in his eyes, and yet Barbatos knew better.  The corners of Barbatos’s mouth quirked just the slightest in stiff acknowledgement as he made mental notes to increase the young lord’s workload for the next day or two....

“Yes, young master.  Although, had I known the coffee would be offered to guests, I would have purchased more of a selection.”

“I’m sure whatever you have is fine, Barbatos. I’m not very picky...” you reply encouragingly with a warm smile.

Barbatos stared at you for a moment and returned the expression with more warmth than he’d given the young prince.  “You’re very gracious, Y/N.”

Diavolo clapped his hands together excitedly.  “Lovely!  With all of this talk of coffee, I believe I’d like one as well. It’s been some time since I’ve enjoyed a cup.” 

How quickly one’s control over a situation can shift...

The butler bowed low.  “Of course, my lord.  I will prepare it immediately.” He straightened his stiff spine and stared at you, although he kept his gaze at the space between your eyes so as not to give away the heat he’d undoubtedly feel when looking directly into your dark pupils.  “Is it safe to assume you enjoy your coffee like you enjoy your tea?”

You giggled, the sound of it making Barbatos’s skin tingle.  “You mean more sugar and cream than coffee? Yes, please.”

Great. Just great.

Barbatos’s smile remained firm, yet he could feel its fakeness in the way the muscles at the corner of his mouth cramped. He hoped you couldn’t see it.

With a bow he retreated. As soon as he was out of your line of sight, his mask vanished, transforming from smile to frown.

You wanted coffee.

There was only one, large, glaring problem.  The only coffee in the entire castle was Hell Coffee. 

It was Diavolo’s favorite, his enjoyment of the acidic, bitter taste a constant, warm reminder of Barbatos’s fatherly affection. He only requested it when he required reassurance after a particularly difficult day, when Barbatos’s honest feedback and praise on a job well done weren’t enough.  Barbatos had no need for any other type of coffee, especially since he himself was renowned for his teas and cakes.  No one ever, in their right mind, would request coffee when offered Barbatos’s tea.

With each step, the calm butler began to lose more and more of his composure until he nearly slammed the door open upon his entry to the kitchen.

The three Little Ds in the room startled at his entrance. One stirred a large, steaming stock pot, one washed the dishes, and the other was chopping vegetables.

Little D Two, who stirred the pot, saluted him.  “Hi, boss!”

Barbatos glared. “Out.”

The Little Ds wasted no time in rushing through the door. But before Number Two could make it, Barbatos’s sharp tone caught him.

“Not you, Number Two.  You stay.”

Number Two began to visibly shake, his small hand scratching at his head.  “A-Are you sure, boss? You look like you wanna be alone...”

Barbatos did not have to repeat himself; instead, he pinned the Little D with a stern look.

The Little D began to return to the center of the kitchen where Barbatos stood.

“Close the door,” Barbatos ordered. Little D obeyed and then returned to his side.

Barbatos put his hands on the kitchen island and stared down at its wooden, weathered surface.

“She wants coffee,” he muttered.

“What was that boss? I couldn’t hear ya...” Number Two replied, inching closer.

“I said she wants coffee.” Barbatos repeated as he looked up, his brow furrowed in frustration.

“Who does?” Number Two asked.

Barbatos clenched his jaw for a moment before averting his gaze and answering.  “Solomon’s apprentice.”

He’d hoped referring to you by your title would ease the wildness of his pulse, give him the much-needed distance between his head and his heart.

It did not.

Number Two perked up. “Well, that’s no big deal! We have coffee, don’t we?” He began shuffling through the cupboards. “Where is it, where is it. Ah, here it is!” He held it up in victory and placed it in front of Barbatos.

Barbatos glared daggers at it.

Why would anyone ever invent such a thing, anyway?

Hell indeed...

“We can’t use this,” he muttered.

“What?? Sure we can! It’s Hell Coffee, we make it all the-Ohhh.”

Number Two grew very still and Barbatos’s jaw clenched.

The silence stretched an uncomfortable length of time as Number Two fidgeted.  Finally, he drifted in front of the butler, hovering above the busy countertop.

“So, you, uhhh-”

“Shut up,” Barbatos ordered through clenched teeth.  “Not another word.”

But Number Two didn’t know the meaning of the word. “I mean,” he continued, “it can’t be that bad, right?? Some people like it bitter...”

“Well she doesn’t. You do recall how she takes her tea, do you not?”

Two fidgeted some more, his nervousness worsening. “Ah, right. Good point. But how bitter can it get, really?”

“I’d prefer not to find out,” Barbatos replied.  “No, this will not do. There must be another way.”

“Can’t we just drown it out with cream and sugar?” Number Two asked as he began rummaging through the fridge.

“The purpose of Hell Coffee is to communicate fondness, Number Two.  The magic of that cannot be undone so easily.”

‘There wouldn’t be enough sugar and cream in the entire Devildom to drown out that bitterness...’ Barbatos thought.

Panic curled his fingers into fists, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.  Time was wasting. He had to return to you soon or you and the young master begin to grow suspicious.

But then, Barbatos had an idea.  “Tell me, Number Two.  What are your feelings towards the apprentice?”

“Huh? My feelings? I mean, she’s nice and she helps me out once in a while...” The Little D answered distractedly as he continued to rummage through ingredients.

“Perfect,” Barbatos replied. “You will make it, then.”

There was a loud thump as Number Two hit his head on the inside of the fridge.  He popped out, his little black hand lifting his hat to rub a sore spot. “Me?!”

“Yes.”

“I can’t make Hell Coffee!”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never done it before!”

“It’s not difficult.”

“But what if it comes out awful? I don’t even think Hell Coffee is supposed to work on Little Ds!”

“All the better reason for you to be the one to make it. Come now. Diavolo requested a cup as well. I shall make the first, and then I will guide you through the steps so you may make the second.”

----

Diavolo talked, but you were having difficulty focusing on his words as you felt the minutes tick by.

Perhaps you’d made a mistake...

In all honesty, you weren’t sure what to expect. All you knew was that Hell Coffee was the only coffee available in the castle, a little nugget of knowledge that Lucifer had given to you when he’d told the story of Diavolo attempting to make him the coffee himself.

As soon as you learned that little tidbit of info, your mind immediately went to Barbatos. Sweet, handsome Barbatos.  Barbatos who’s presence made your skin hum, who’s soft smile and deep chuckle made your gut twist in the most lovely way.  Barbatos who’s eyes seemed to read you like a book every time you looked into them, and yet gave away nothing short of amusement in return.

He was such a tea enthusiast that you’d never questioned the lack of coffee on his elegant and detailed menu. But now the thought of Barbatos making you Hell Coffee wouldn’t leave your mind.

After all, how else were you supposed to find out how he felt about you? Ask him?  Like a normal person?? Definitely not; the very idea was laughable.  You’d rather take his rejection through small sips of coffee rather than hear the words uttered from his mouth.

Because that’s what you were certain would happen. The acidity would be mild, the beverage more sugar than coffee. It wasn’t like the royal butler harbored any feelings for you, right? Sure, there was respect and friendship, but that was it.

So then why.... why were you so nervous? Why did hope flutter in your chest like a trapped bird?

Silly.

Anxiety twisted deep in your stomach, crushing your appetite and making your small desserts taste like ash.

But a moment later, he appeared, an ornate silver tray in his steady gloved hands, with two delicate teacups of steaming dark liquid.  He set the tray down and began to prepare them to yours and Diavolo’s liking. The close proximity made the delicious scent tickle your nose, and you inhaled and let out a happy sigh.

Barbatos was unmoved, his eyes kept to the teacups as he handed Diavolo his beverage first, and then yours.

Diavolo thanked him with a happy smile and took the first sip and winced.  “Ah, as bitter as ever Barbatos.  Glad to know you haven’t tired of me yet.”

“An impossibility, young master,” he replied smoothly.

You watched the exchange as you carefully brought the beverage to your lips and sipped.

Your heart sank instantly, the sweet tang clinging to your tongue.  It crushed your hope, silenced the unspoken confessions and washed them away to a place where they’d be left to slowly die.

“And how do you like yours?” Barbatos inquired, his neutral smile hiding any emotions worth noticing.

Or, as you’d just now discovered, where none lurked.

He respected you it seemed, had some basic level of fondness since the coffee still tasted of coffee, of course.  But it lacked the sharp, bitter bite that you’d hoped for, the one you’d experienced whenever one of the brothers made you coffee at the house.

You forced a small smile even as you felt your disappointment coalesce in your throat like a stone.  “It’s delicious. Thank you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos gave a polite nod and his posture eased ever so slightly. His satisfaction of your reaction to your bland, sugary cup only drove the painful truth home further, a nail into your heart.

Barbatos didn’t love you.

----

Diavolo stared at the empty teacups in thought as Barbatos began clearing the table.  “She seemed... disappointed, didn’t she?”

Barbatos glanced at him and then averted his eyes.  “Did she?”

“She certainly left quickly enough after the coffee.”

“I’m sure she simply has many errands to run,” Barbatos replied.  “The brothers and Solomon keep her nearly as busy as me.”

Diavolo stared at him for a long moment, then let out a gentle hum.

Barbatos graced his unspoken need for further attention with a lengthy side-eye.  “Yes, young master?”

Diavolo’s mouth quirked up slightly at the corner.  “Nothing... I just... I was certain that her cup would have been more bitter.”

Barbatos straightened up, the tray of now used dishes in his hand, his own mouth quirking up in return.  “I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Diavolor raised a challenging eyebrow at him.  “You do know I can tell when someone is lying to me, Barbatos.  Even you.”

Barbatos’s smirk vanished as quickly as it came, his walls up instantly.  “I have not forgotten, my lord. As such, perhaps you should cease pursuing this topic.”

“Have it your way...” Diavolo muttered.

Barbatos bowed. “If you’ll excuse me...”

He turned towards the castle, his eyes downcast on the half-drank cup of coffee you’d left behind.  As he began to walk back, Diavolo’s quiet voice followed him.

“You’re making a mistake.”

----

Diavolo’s words lingered in Barbatos’s mind following him into the next day, and the day after that.  It haunted him endlessly, making its appearance at the most inopportune times.  While balancing the budget, monitoring Lord Diavolo’s progress on his pile of paperwork, while running errands... he was far too busy to be so, so.... distracted.

Barbatos whole-heartedly disagreed with the young prince’s assessment.  In fact, in all honesty, Barbatos hardly ever made any mistakes at all, at least not anymore. He was far too careful for such reckless behavior.  Which was why Barbatos had a million and one reasons not to confess his feelings to you.  Between Devildom politics, his duties, and your mortality just to name a few, the cons far outweighed the pros... or so he tried to tell himself.

Even so, he couldn’t deny how you watched him when you thought he wasn’t looking, or the way your smile brightened in his presence... or the way you always managed to find a reason to cross paths with him at least a couple times a week...

Barbatos shook his head to himself.  No.  Best not to go there...

And yet...

‘You’re making a mistake.’

----

The truth of those words didn’t fully solidify until he ran into you at the market a couple of weeks later. Barbatos had already noticed how he seemed to be crossing paths with you less than usual. He already suspected you were avoiding him, putting distance between your heart and him.  He’d accepted it, a consequence of his own choices.

That is, until he saw the look in your eyes; the way you couldn’t quite hide the hurt fast enough behind your smile, the way your lips curled in artificial joy at seeing him.  Your words were brief and cordial, but he could tell you were eager to disentangle from his presence.

He’d watched your retreating back with his breath lodged like spikes in his lungs, the longing to grab your wrist and pull you back to him making his fingers twitch.

Barbatos had hoped that preventing an impromptu confession with cursed coffee would have allowed him to keep you at arm’s length, to keep his affections for you separate from yours.

But this felt less like separation and every bit like entanglement.  You weren’t just drifting farther away from him like two separate objects with nothing but empty space between. It felt more like ripping, a tearing of intertangled roots. It was painful and left an ache in his chest where your presence had made a home.

Perhaps the young lord was right....

----

Even so, Barbatos was as stubborn as he was prideful.  He filled himself with distractions to ease the pain, waiting for time to work its magic and ease the empty longing for both of you.

Another two weeks passed before Diavolo took matters into his own hands.

The prince entered the kitchen to see every single surface filled with extravagant desserts and warm breads. Little D’s were at every counter and stove, while Barbatos stood at the island in the center with a piping bag in his hand, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Are we having a celebration?” Diavolo asked jovially.

“No, young master,” Barbatos replied.

“Then what is the reason for the feast?”

“I have been making modifications to my recipes to perfect my menu.”

“You mean the menu you’ve already perfected three times this week?”  Diavolo crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with one particular sorcerer’s apprentice, would it?”

Barbatos’s hand flexed on the piping bag and a large glob shot out onto the cake he was decorating.  He glanced briefly at Diavolo.  “Of course not.”

“Then I’m guessing that it’s just a coincidence that you’ve chosen her favorite color as your decorating inspiration....”

Barbatos blanched and his eyes looked up from his work to take in the state of the kitchen.

Damn it, he was right... cupcakes, cakes, tarts, danishes, marbled bread, muffins... everything he’d made was somehow tied back to you.  Colors, flavors, textures... it was as if he’d gotten lost in his thoughts and his hands had written out apologies in the form of desserts rather than letters.

“Perhaps we should talk about this...” Diavolo suggested.  His amber eyes took in the exhausted Little D’s.  “Okay, break time everyone!”

A roar of cheers erupted throughout the kitchen, and a swarm of dark little bodies vacated the space in record time.

“Young master, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t override my authority within the kitchen,” Barbatos chided as he eyed all of the unfinished work.

“My dear friend, work them any harder, and they’ll all go on strike, and then where will we be?”  Diavolo closed the door behind him and made himself comfortable against the island, a pastry in his hand.  Barbatos returned to piping the decoration onto the cake that was nearly complete.  “You should talk to her, Barbatos.”

Barbatos froze and finally let out a heavy sigh in defeat as he set the piping bag down. He braced his hands against the weathered edge of the counter. “I cannot.”

“Why not?”

“It is not so simple.”

“Isn’t it?”

Barbatos chuckled.  “I sometimes envy your youthful, reckless optimism...”

“You’ve been sulking ever since that day with the hell coffee.”

Barbatos scoffed and straightened his spine in reproach. “I do not sulk.”

“Like a teenager with a broken heart ,” Diavolo pressed with an arrogant tilt of his chin and mischief in his smile.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes.  “If you have enough time to watch me so closely, then perhaps you can explain to me why you’re still so behind on your work.”

“Maybe I’m too distracted watching you clean the castle top to bottom and baking enough sweets to satiate even Beel’s bottomless gut.”

His words got under the butler’s skin and so he started straightening up the space, gathering crumbs of dough and flour into piles, wiping up blotches of icing from the wood grain.  “It is work that must be done my lord, nothing more nothing less.” Then he muttered, “A teenager? Really? You do realize I’m far older than you.”

“Yes, and how many of those years have you been alone?”

“I am not alone, young master. I have you, I have the Little Ds...”

“You know what I mean. When was the last time you fell in love?”

Barbatos froze, his vision blurring. He blinked and it refocused.

Yes... how long had it been?

“Look,” Diavolo said, “all I’m saying is that perhaps this is one area that you’re a little bit... rusty in.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, before giving a soft sigh and turning to lean against the counter the same as Diavolo.  “My lack of a love life isn’t the issue.  I can’t afford to jeopardize your position as prince by allowing myself to become emotionally involved with a human. And not just any human, but Solomon’s apprentice.  Many demons still haven’t forgotten how he’d singlehandedly opposed the Devildom centuries ago. I am your most trusted confidant, and as such I must err on the side of caution in all of my dealings.”

Diavolo’s eyes widened.  “Is that why you’ve been doing this?”

“I am your butler first and foremost, young master. You will always be my top priority.”

Diavolo blew air out of his cheeks and leaned his head back to stare at the intricate ceiling.  “I see. I appreciate the concern, friend. However, I believe, in this instance, it’s important that you put a little more faith in me to be able to keep the nobles in line.  Regardless of their opinions, I am the law of this land, and my position is final. Besides, she’s already intricately tied up in Devildom affairs considering she has pacts with all of the brothers.”

“All the more reason to be cautious,” Barbatos replied.

“Screw that,” Diavolo scoffed.

Barbatos gasped.  “My lord!”

“After all you’ve done for me, what kind of a prince would I be if I let the fear of the masses take away your chance at happiness?” Diavolo said firmly.  “You deserve to be happy too, Barbatos.  Now please, for the love of my father, get out of this damn kitchen and go apologize to her.”

Barbatos stared at the prince with wide eyes, before bowing low. “Yes, young master.”

Before Barbatos crossed the threshold, Diavolo called out with a chuckle in his voice. “You should ask her for coffee when you get there...”

Barbatos gave a soft laugh.  He had a feeling he wouldn’t have to.

----

For all of the inspiration and reassurance Diavolo had provided, Barbatos could feel his resolve slip more and more the closer he got to the front door of the House of Lamentation.

Would you turn him away? Run away to your room and allow the brothers to host him instead?  What if you weren’t even home? What if you were with Solomon?

A sharp stab of jealousy reared its head and he forced it back down.

That certainly wouldn’t do him any good, now would it?

He walked up the steps and rang the doorbell as he held his breath.

A silent prayer of gratitude and dread echoed through his mind as you answered the door. You froze when you saw him, eyes wide, your breath caught in your chest.

“Barbatos,” you said dumbly.  “What are you doing here?”

You clamped your mouth shut as you realized how rude you sounded, and all Barbatos could think about was how cute you were...

“I...” he started, and then froze.  He couldn’t say the real reason for his arrival, not on the doorstep where anyone could hear.  “I came to inspect the House of Lamentation for any infestations.”

Your shoulder slumped slightly in disappointment.  “Oh. Okay, come in.”

He bowed graciously.  “Thank you.”

As he stepped into the large foyer, you fidgeted nervously.  He stared the gesture and fought the blush that threatened to creep across his pale cheeks.  “Where are the brothers?” he asked.

“They aren’t here right now. Diavolo called them to a student council meeting.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened.  “Oh. I see...”

He wasn’t sure whether he should thank him or punish him...

He stared down at you as his heart pounded wildly.  “So you are by yourself then?”

“For a little bit,” you replied with a small smile.  “I must admit the quiet is nice once in a while...”

Barbatos’s own lips curled gently.  “Then I promise I’ll be brief.”

“W-would you like some tea?” you asked expectantly.

Barbatos hesitated, Diavolo’s words once again coming alive in his mind.

Ask her for coffee.

But Barbatos forced the suggestion aside.

“Yes, tea would be lovely.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.  Make yourself comfortable.” You retreated toward the kitchen, and Barbatos sat in a nearby chair.

----

Tea, tea, tea.....

You opened the cannister that sat on the counter and stared at it with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Empty.

No, that can’t be right... you always had tea.

With your brow furrowed, you rummaged through the lower pantry.

Nothing. Not a single tea bag.

No, no, no....

Dread started from your toes and crept up like invisible fingers brushing against sensitive skin.

You had hoped to make this as painless as possible; give Barbatos his tea, allow him to do his inspection, and then send him on his way.  But already things were going awry.

You hummed to yourself with a furrowed brow as you dug out any and all drink options.  Water, milk, juice, soda... none of those seemed suitable for Barbatos.

You went back to the cupboards, moving items around as you searched.  Your hand wrapped around a familiar bag and you pulled it out with trepidation.

 Coffee.

You stared at the bag of Hell Coffee with narrowed eyes as if it was the reason for the lack of tea within the kitchen.

No.  Absolutely fucking not. You’d already made that mistake once before and you’d regretted it ever since.

Panic filled your veins and you fought back the burning sensation in your eyes.

There had to be something....

Your eyes spotted the upper cabinet that was so often out of your reach. It often housed excess demonus when Lucifer’s own cabinets were full in his office.

Maybe... just maybe....

Who knows, maybe Lucifer had received some tea as a gift from Barbatos and put it up with the rest of the demonus?

You grabbed the stool that had become your best friend within the Devildom-sized kitchen and stepped up.

----

Barbatos sat and fiddled with his clothing, adjusting the uniform repeatedly. It felt awfully tight today, the house feeling particularly warm.

The minutes ticked by, time stretched, and Barbatos grew more and more restless. He checked the time.  The tall grandfather clock chimed its gong.

Finally, Barbatos got tired of waiting.  Perhaps you’d run out the back door, leaving him alone in the house...

He chuckled to himself.  You would never....

He stood up and made his way to the kitchen.  When he pushed through the double doors, he froze as he stared at the sight before him.

The kitchen was chaos, cupboards open and various contents spread out on the counter.

And you, you were on a stool, precariously balanced, as the upper half of your body vanished inside a high cabinet.

“No, no, this can’t be happening...” you muttered, unaware of Barbatos’s presence. He could hear the anxiety laced in your tone, the tension tight around your vocal chords. You were desperately searching for something.

It was almost comical, watching you stand on your tippy-toes, and it’d been so long since Barbatos saw you up close, that he paused to cherish the view. His eyes followed the curves and lines of your body, his lips slightly parted.

That is, until you started to wobble...

You could feel the balance shift, felt the scrape of the wood beneath your feet give way to nothing.

That split second of panic, of knowing you were falling, was interrupted by strong hands and lean arms wrapping around your waist, catching your weight against a firm, tall body.

The impact of your body against Barbatos’s forced his own back against the closed lower cupboard, but he held firm, keeping your feet from touching the floor. Your arms were around his neck instantly, survival instinct forcing you against him as if he were a tree.

Time felt frozen for a moment as your heart pounded with adrenaline.

You knew immediately who’d caught you. After all, there was only one other person in the house with you.

Not to mention you could smell the scent of sugar clinging to his uniform, could smell the tea on his breath as his own heart pounded beneath yours.

You were torn between embarrassment and desire, your eyes closed as you clung to him.  But then you remembered the hell coffee from weeks ago, recalled that neutral smile he’d worn when you drank it, and your heart broke all over again.

Slowly you loosened your hold around his neck and pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes.

“I... thank you.”

His green eyes stared back, his skin flushed, although you were sure it was due to the haste in which he had to have moved to catch you. Barbatos held you for a moment longer than he needed to before slowly setting you down on unsteady legs.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.  Then his eyes looked up past your head at the kitchen behind you.  “Might I inquire as to what’s happening?”

You opened your mouth hoping to find a believable lie there, but there was none.  Only simple truth came forth, clumsy and blunt.  “We don’t have any tea.”

“Oh...” Barbatos looked down at you.  “So you’ve decided to reorganize your kitchen.”

The emotion pounding in your chest finally gained enough strength to work their way up your throat and brim your eyes with tears.

“I... I only have coffee. And, and water, and juice, and soda, and...”

Barbatos watched the panic overtake you and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently rubbing across the back of your hand.

“Coffee will be fine.”

What he had hoped would assuage your fear only seemed to heighten it, causing the tears to finally break loose, running wet tracks down your cheeks. You refused to look at him, instead focusing on the details of his uniform.

“B-but... I only have Hell Coffee....”

Realization dawned on Barbatos’s face, and then his expression softened.  “I see... then let us make some.”

He began to step to the side to go around you but you clutched his hand tightly, halting his retreat.  “No, you don’t understand. It’s...” Barbatos waited patiently as you found your words. Finally, your voice came through soft and timid.  “It’s going to be too bitter.”

A soft smile spread across his lips.  “I think in this case I am willing to make an exception.”

Confusion furrowed your brow as he led you over to the counter with your fingers intertwined.  “I... I don’t understand.... I thought...”

“Y/N, I have a confession to make... and an apology as well.”

A few minutes later and the sound of laughter is filling the kitchen with the scent of coffee in rich in the air.

“So you really bullied Number Two into making it??” you laughed.

Barbatos gave you a reproachful look.  “Bullying is a strong term, Y/N... but yes, I suppose I did.”

“Well now I know how Two feels about me, I guess...”

“And you know how I feel about you, too,” Barbatos replied with a small smile.

“Wellll,” you hummed, “Yes, but...” you stared at the two cups of fresh coffee sitting in front of each of you. “I still want to try it...”

It was Barbatos’s suggestion to make each other’s cup, to assuage any lingering doubts.

“Then let us proceed,” he replied.

With your eyes locked you both picked up your cups and took a tentative sip.

Sharp, deep bitterness greeted your tongue and your face soured.  Barbatos’s cup seemed to be no better, as he attempted to stifle a cough.

“Oh...” he mustered.  “Oh goodness, that’s...”

“Truly awful,” you replied with a chuckle.  “In the best way, of course.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” he laughed.  He took another sip and you watched in amusement as his winced.

You sipped yours again as well, and forced it down with your eyes squeezed shut.

“Do... do we have to finish the whole thing?” you asked.

“It’s customary to do so... not finishing it implies you’re unwilling to fully accept the other person’s affections.”

You frowned into your cup with a pout.  “Silly Devildom customs...” you forced another sip.  “Blegh.”

Barbatos grinned, his cheeks warm as he watched you.  “Perhaps, however...” he said, “we can call a truce.”

“Don’t toy with my emotions, Barbatos,” you teased.

His expression sobered from one of amusement to calm affection.  “I promise, never again.”

Your skin felt hot and you averted your eyes down into your cup.  His hand came forward, and you felt him tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I am truly sorry for deceiving you,” he said softly.  “It was a poor decision and one I’ll always regret.”

Your gaze returned to lock with his, and suddenly you’re keenly aware of his close proximity and of the emptiness of the large house.

Barbatos’s hand lingered gently on your jawline, his fingers tucked behind your ear.  His eyes flickered to your lips before returning to your eyes again.

Then he closed the distance and kissed you, his lips soft and tender against yours.  You melted into it, melted into him, your fingers twining into the jacket of his uniform.

He pulled away slightly and you stared at each other. Then he kissed you again, his lips firmer, more confident.  His hand went from your jaw to your waist, pulling you close against him as your arms wound around his neck.  The desire written into his touch, his lips, emboldened you to open your mouth slightly and swipe your tongue against his lips.  Barbatos’s lips curled into a smirk against yours, a deep chuckle vibrating in his chest. He acquiesced to your silent plea and opened his mouth, his tongue meeting yours.

Your body awakened at the warmth and taste of him, the acrid coffee still sharp on his tongue.  You pressed yourself harder against him, and his body pivoted until you were pinned between himself and the counter, your coffee cups long since forgotten and growing cold while your body grew hotter.

Finally, Barbatos broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours as his hands tightened on your hips.  “You’re going to make me behave improperly if you continue to torture me so.”

He was taller than you, much taller; you barely came up to his shoulder.  It made the buckle of his belt press against your stomach.

And below that...

Heat pooled in your core, desire heavy in your gaze.

“Oh no, not improper,” you teased, your hands on his hips in return as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Barbatos chuckled as he cupped your cheek. “What a troublemaker... however,” - he forced his body to separate from yours - “I would like to perhaps court you before repurposing your kitchen.”

You pouted your lip in disappointment, and Barbatos stared at the gesture with flushed cheeks.  His thumb came up and brushed against your protruding lower lip.  “Don’t do that,” he chided.

You grinned and playfully nibbled at his thumb, trapping it between your teeth.  His eyes darkened. He leaned in to kiss you again, but your words halted his approach just as his lips started to brush yours.

“How about dessert?” you asked against his mouth.  “Our coffee was so bitter, we deserve something sweet.”

Barbatos froze and gave a frustrated chuckle.  “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

You grinned.  “Maybe...”

“Hmm,” he hummed. Then he leaned closer to you until his lips brushed your ear.  “Sounds like fun...”

Your legs felt like jelly, your heart pounding so fiercely you were sure it was going to jump from your chest into his.

But then Barbatos pulled away, putting distance between you. “Fortunately for you, I happen to have a wide variety of desserts waiting in the kitchen at the castle. So,” he extended his hand to and bowed, “if you’ll accompany me...”

You smiled and took his hand. “I’d be happy to.”

“Wonderful. Let us take a shortcut.”

Barbatos opened a doorway out of thin air, and with your hand linked with his, guided you through.

Part 2 (link coming soon!)

[cakerybakery]

Adamsapple week 2024 prompt Father

-

Charlie was trying to reach a busted bulb off the marquee. Her ladder was a little too short though and Adam had been around kids long enough to recognize when something was about to go wrong.

He dropped the shopping bag and sprinted up the driveway.

The ladder wobbled as she leaned too far, “ooh!” She leaned back to stabilize herself, then climbed onto the top of the ladder and stretched out again.

The ladder tipped as she shifted her weight. “Almost…”

She grabbed the edge of the marquee as the ladder fell away, catching herself for a moment. The ledge wasn’t wide enough for her to hold on long and she slipped off.

He grasped her in his arms and held her up as he tripped over the ladder, landing painfully on his front with Charlie thrusted out in front of him, unharmed.

“Oh my god!”

Adam dropped his arms to the ground and groaned as Charlie got up.

“Adam, are you okay?” She touched his shoulder and he groaned from the pain.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

‘I think I threw out my back.’

“I’m just going to lay here for a minute. Can you go get your dad for me?”

She agreed and he hear the sound of gravel crunching as she took off.

He lay there, his back having spasms of pain, and spit out a bit of the dirt and pebbles he ate when his face hit the ground.

Adam didn’t dare move his head, not even as the gravel beside him lightly crunched and he saw a familiar black boot land in the peripheral of his vision.

“Charlie said you were hurt.” Lucifer hand touched his shoulder and Adam whimpered from the pain as he tensed and muscles in his lower back revolted at the action.

“I’m- I’m good. Just, threw out my back a little. Didn’t want to lay here until it was better. If you could help me up to my room that would be great.” He tried to sound nonchalant about the issue but the pain strained his voice.

A hand stroked his back and he felt relief. He let out a moan as the last of the pain in his back left him. Adam pushed himself up onto his forearms and knees.

Lucifer stood up and held out a hand to help Adam up. He grasped the hand and let Lucifer help him up to his feet.

“Thank you,” Lucifer had a look Adam couldn’t place, “for saving Charlie. I owe you.”

Adam tried to shrug it off, it was no big deal, but Lucifer took Adam’s head in his hands and pulled gentle down so they were more eye level.

“I mean it. Thank you.” Lucifer frowned, “your face is all scratched up. Let me heal you.”

“Uhh, okay?” Adam could barely feel the scrapes. His back pain has been distracting and he-

Lucifer’s eyes were closed and Adam breathed quickly through his nose as his heart started to race. His closed his eyes and leaned into the surprise kiss. He grabbed at Lucifer and pulled him closed, chasing after the sparks that were tingling down his spine, the electricity in his mouth. By the time Lucifer pulled away Adam’s knees were weak and after a moment to catch his breath he pulled Lucifer back to him.

Fingers tugged at his hair, gripped his shoulder, and kept them close together.

When they pulled apart Adam found Lucifer was no longer on the ground but in his arms.

“How about I thank you upstairs in your room?” Lucifer asked as he kissed his way along Adam’s jawline.

Adam’s breath hitched as Lucifer sucked on his throat under his ear, “Okay.”

Saving Charlie had been his fatherly instincts kicking in, he saw the kid was in danger and reacted the same he would if it was one of his kids.

He didn’t mean for this to happen. He never thought of Lucifer that way before. But Lucifer was making one hell of argument for thinking about him in that way.

-

I just wanted to write about Adam doing a dad save, got a little out of hand.

[nekassvariigs]

Some day in the life with the Whitebeard crew.

Marco x reader x whitebeard!fluff

hearts doing the ooglie-booglies.

"Morning Pops" you gently rubbed your eyes greeting your Capitan.

"Oh its you , Goodmorning." His tall figure looked down on you as you passed him,stopping only to rest your head on his lower leg.

The morning breeze was cold as the winds picked up pace, the calm sea rising to an upbring once more.

"Bout as good as i could with you snoring so loudly." you winced just thinking about it. He didnt snore often but when he did the managed to put half the ship in a trance like state from it alone.

"Gurararara, sorry squirt." he looked down on you with a gentleness he didnt like causing trouble for his sons or daughters esppecially over sleep.

"Mmn, it's fine.." you mumbled cozying further on the old mans leg.

''Cant be helped'' the tall male sighed offering you his arm. You smacked it away earning a look of disbelief from him.

''Its your fault youu..'' lazily throwing punches giggling like a little kid, it felt like someone was tickling his palm such a cute act didn't go unnoticed as he picked you up carefully laying you on his lap his enormous hand placed gentle strokes on your hair. His warmth bringing you great comfort. ''You know, I miss it when I was little, you used to hold me like this all the time.'' you stifled a yawn looking into the mans' old wise eyes.

''You cant stay little forever you know.'' he reminisced of the times you were small enough to comfortably sit on his shoulders falling asleep while holding his bandana.

''Guess it cant be helped..'' you blushed shyly looking at him.

His fatherly instinct kicked him like a rock hitting a windshield cracking his emperor duty filled world to that of a simple man who wanted to provide security to those who showed potential and trusted him with their hearts to the end of the world.

"You brats really do grow fast, i remember when Marco was in his diapers..'' Pops continued an exclamation mark as big as the Moby Dick itself popped on Marcos head. "POPS WHAT ARE YOU SAYING RIGHT NOW!'' he looked like a pissed off flaming chicken then again a pineapple? You couldn't tell and didn't really bother to either just chuckling at the image alone, your laugh as light as the wind you were riding. Your sleep fading as you kept picturing how silly Marco would have looked like as a baby, big dumb-dumb eyes and his dopey haircut atop it.

"Cute.." you thought to yourself making Marco blush seeing as you were imagining things. ''WHATEVER YOU HAVE IN YOUR HEAD STOP IT!'' he barked ears red from embarrassment.

''Oh enough you two." Whitebeard seemed in his element today sharing stories allowing you to sit with him like this even not punishing you two for not getting along. He watched as Marco stomped on the ground a habit he developed unintentionally when he was mad or frustrated.

"Up you go brat.'' he picked up Marco like a cat by the scruff and placed him on his shoulder, the blonde immeditley shutting up avoiding all contact with anyone's eyes. His rosy cheeks showing his soft nature under pops' care.

''Hey pop's , can we ever call you Edward?'' you asked.

''And why would you need to do that?'' he answered fairly curious why you chose this topic.

''Well I don't know would be an interesting development. Should a woman my age still call you pops or do you think its high time for a change." you retorted trying to provoke the man into a battle of wits.

"You can try, but I promise you wont see me in the same way after that."

"Someone's confident..'' you wondered standing up form his lap slowly, your eyes meeting his you uttered the words: '' Edward, when will we set ashore?'' you had a tingle run down your spine not understanding the meaning of it you took it as excitement and went along unfazed.

''Whenever your heart pleases miss'' the aura grew tense the longer you looked at him sweat slowly trickling down your forehead. This felt different, pleasantly different like being courted by a gentleman.

The old man looked at you processing everything that went on his smile rising the longer you took until you erupted a blobly-blushy mess hiding behind his jacket. Whitebeards signature laugh erupting on the deck as well as Marcos.

"Its always fun seeing this reaction.'' Marco laughed having previously seen someone else do this only to end up in the same position.

Marco was wheezing his ass of meanwhile Whitebread offered you his knowing gaze, you hid deeper behind his jacket face redder than a ripe tomato.

''Waaaa~ this is what he meant by 'you wont see me the same way after this.''' What a jerk.

He extended his arm to you his fingers wiggling right by your crouched body. You contemplated for a bit before sitting on his hand , he placed you right on the other side of his shoulder.

He thinks he won just cause he knows how to show off his experience and pearly whites huh. You puffed you cheeks mentally, sitting comfortably on his shoulder you ushered closer to him poking his cheek to give you an ear.

''Then lets set sail Capitan Edward~'' you cooed using a 110% of your womanly charm you noticed him stall. His cheeks dusted a shade redder than when he laughs.

''Let's sail the entire world together Edward, promise me~'' you continued checking how the old man was taking it. His whole expression stone cold however his cheeks red as a rash on a baby's bum.

Marco couldn't belive his eyes, the first time in years old mans plan actually failed against him.

You giggled reaching around the back to whisper the same thing into Marcos ear but using Marcos own name. Now the both of them stood stone cold cheeks glowing.

What a sight these men are, you thought to yourself giving each one a gentle platonic kiss to the cheek "Shouldn't be teasing you boys like this, I apologize.." you went back to your place on your Capitan's lap ,sitting soundly till the both of them spoke in unison. "No problem we don't mind at all!" Zero shame in their steely gazes you admired their devotion. "Marco you're something ,but you pops are a different thing.''

Edward laughed brushing off this fun event as quickly as it came. Though he really didn't expect it.

[across-violet-skies]

happy birthday @somer-writes!!!!! I uhhhh. I ummmm. I did something to Twilight. here it is >:3

preview under the cut!!

“You can call it poisoned or cursed, either way, it’s been a fight for him.”

The voice was faint, but Link would recognize it anywhere. That low, rumbly, almost fatherly tone was one he had grown deeply familiar with. He furrowed his brows, unable to force his eyes open. “Fight… did everyone… did we win?” Win what? What happened?

A new voice, higher in both pitch and intensity. “You don’t need to worry about us! You hear me!?”

Link cracked his eyes open. “...Worry…” He huffed, tilting his head to the side. His eyes slipped shut once more. It was so hard to keep them open. “There is much to worry about… when there is danger in our kingdom…” He grimaced. “...when it threatens our friends…”

Around him, people shifted. No one spoke a word.

“That’s how my path started at the dawn of my journey.” Link’s lips twisted into a frown, brow creasing. “And it’s always been for them. For every one of them…” He reached out with a shaky hand, raising it toward the sky. No– raising it toward the ceiling. Colin had raised his hand to the sky… where was Colin? “It’s been that way for every single step…”

Link clenched his hand into a fist, resigned. “Rusl, I do feel a sadness… sometimes, I wish I didn’t know what that meant.” He understood his fate. Link had gone through his entire adventure and came out the other side, but this… whatever had happened, it was too much for him.

A different voice, younger and louder, wafted through his ears. Not a word reached him, though– Link was already too far gone. These voices… three of them, if he was counting correctly, were… different. The first one, he knew– Rusl. He would never mistake that voice. The others, however… younger. Not Colin– too loud. Not Talo, either– too old. But… who else in the village could it be?

A terrifying thought struck Link. What if those voices were Colin and Talo? Had they grown up without him? How long had he been gone? Did he ever even-

He coughed, rough and heavy. His arm went up on instinct, sending pain shooting down his nerves. His fingers tingled numbly.

“-ilight-!”

“-blood-!”

“-help-!”

Link’s chest burned. It burned, a raging fire that dragged and scraped along his lungs, tracing the outline of his wound.

What caused this?

His breath sputtered. “...Colin…” Link gasped, voice catching in his throat. “...Colin… I…”

He coughed. Link coughed and coughed, chest squeezing like a too-tight hug (like Rusl; Rusl always gave the tightest hugs-) as all the air was forced out of him. He wheezed, lungs straining. Everything felt wrong, as if the very blood in his veins had been rejected. He was going to die, he knew it. He just wanted to see Colin, where was Colin?

“Link!” Rusl’s strong voice dragged his consciousness back out into the open. “You need to breathe. We can’t help you if you don’t breathe.”

Link inhaled sharply, gulping down air as greedily as he could. The aching in his chest weakened, leaving room for the pain from his wound to rear its ugly head.

“Ngh…” Link grimaced, whimpering. He ground his teeth together, eyebrows nestled close in a deep frown. It hurt, a deep-seated ache that tore at him from within. What caused this?

Rusl’s calm, soothing voice kept him steady. “Just keep breathing, Link. We’re doing everything we can.”

-> read the rest on ao3!!!

[ijustsitinacorner]

Flashback to that one time I read the BlackButler/Twisted Wonderland fanfic by DarkSpellMaster on ao3 including Lilia and Sebastian beefing

I don’t remember what chapter it was exact, but it’s safe to say Lilia and Sebastian have beef.

Lilia’s fatherly instructs were tingling around Ciel I swear, like-

Lilia’s urge to protect Ciel from him is sweet and all, but darling… 😭

What’s even more interesting was that Sebastian mentioning he has never been in THAT much pain ever since the stabbing incident with Undertaker’s scythe in Campania.

Like HUHHH???

But then again this chapter takes place around the Halloween event aka October compared to like what months book seven takes place which is like I’m guessing is early Spring?

So that would likely mean Lilia still had some strength in him or something.

But still, that much power left over and still managing to do damage to a DEMON.

I say he stays a little longer, HE’S FINE GUYS HE’S NOT LEAVING (I’m still in denial Lilia is leaving NRC like he’s my favorite, twst don’t do this to me 🥲).

But a slight spoiler I guess, Sebastian is very much looking forward to a challenge against Malleus in the future (stay the fuck away from him Sebastian).

In terms of book 7 and how we’re doing currently, and the thought of Ciel in book 7…

Idk who’s more cooked.

Sebastian if you can hear us, more like if you can hear Ciel.

Wait would Sebastian technically be able to try and eat Ciel again since he would be in a dream and taking too long?

Sebastian really couldn’t wait during the Emerald Witch arc huh 💀

[campgender]

“Kisses” by Kim Addonizio, from What Is This Thing Called Love (2004)

All the kisses I’ve ever been given, today I feel them on my mouth.

And my knees feel them, the reckless ones placed there

through the holes in my jeans while I sat on a car hood

or a broken sofa in somebody’s basement, stoned, the way I was

in those days, still amazed that boys and even men would want to

lower their beautiful heads like horses drinking from a river and taste me.

The back of my neck feels them, my hair swept aside to expose the nape,

and my breasts tingle the way they did when my milk came in after the birth,

when I was swollen, and sleepless, and my daughter fed and fed until I pried

her from me and laid her in her crib. Even the chaste kisses that brushed

my cheeks, the fatherly ones on my forehead, I feel them rising up from underneath

the skin of the past, a delicate, roseate rash; and the ravishing ones, God,

I think of them and the filaments in my brain start buzzing crazily and flare out.

Every kiss is here somewhere, all over me like a fine, shiny grit, like I’m a pale

fish that’s been dipped in a thick swirl of raw egg and dragged through flour,

slid down into a deep skillet, into burning. Today I know I’ve lost no one.

My loves are here: wrists, eyelids, damp toes, all scars, and my mouth

pouring praises, still asking, saying kiss me; when I’m dead kiss this poem,

it needs you to know it goes on, give it your lovely mouth, your living tongue.

[moonmaiden1996]

AemondxreaderxOsferth

The mark of the seven glared down at you as the festivities unraveled around you. No expense had been spared in celebrating the betrothal between you and the princes. Despite the uproar, the Faith of the Seven had tirelessly promoted the unusual engagement you found yourself in, sending riders to every house in Westeros to come to see the Mothers blessing. However, it didn’t seem to stop the whispers not matter how blessed by the gods you were.

Pressing the cup to your mouth, you swallowed the sour wine as you watched another gaggle of Ladies eye you with red cheeks and judging stares as you sat the top table left with no place to hide.

Since the announcement you had waited to wake from this dream, to find yourself back in your chamber in your families keep. No matter how much your pinched yourself you did not wake up. Here you sat, a little sheep surrounded by dragons. Osferth and Aemond had been lost to the crowd for some time. Aemond to smooth over the troubles with the Baratheon: Osferth pressganged by the Septon to dazzle some northern believers in the Old Gods, leaving you seated by yourself once again.

Despite residing in the keep for nearly a moon, you had not been able to have more than fleeting conversations or moments alone with either prince. Walks had been commandeered, dinners usurped, even your betrothal breakfasts had been derailed by the Queen and the small council. So while you never seem to be wanting for your betrothals company you had yet to have a proper conversation with them,  and with your approaching marriage it appeared you would be marrying strangers. The two boys you spied playing dragon rider in the garden were gone, replaced by two strapping men, chiselled by the gods themselves. Who were to be yours. Only yours you hoped. And you had no idea what to do about it.

A sudden heat raised through your body, making your skin prickle and tingle against the stifling mesh of the corset the queen and her attendant squeezed you into.

"Are you okay my child?" The king spoke, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I am a little hot, my king. If you will excuse me I require some fresh air.” You rose carefully curtsying before scurrying towards the doors.

Your feet only met the middle step of the platform before you were held fast by the stiff grip of the king. Once the steely grip of the warrior weakened by time and disease, yet strong enough to keep you in place.

"My king?"

"Are you well my child? Happy?" his tone soft, fatherly almost.

It was a strange question, no one had asked her if she was happy before the announcement, your own sweet father didn’t even ask you. Marriage was expected, a duty, and marriage to a prince an honour. Your honour being twice so with two princes and blessed by visions from the Mother. But we're you happy? Osferth’s was, by all account, pleasant and gentle, he smiled and spoke softly to you when he pulled chairs out for you or passed you plates of food. Aemond was more problematic, stoic, broody, he seemed to hover constantly, and though he was far less approachable then his brother, he was sweet, informing the kitchen of your preferences, distracting the queen when she overwhelmed you. You were lucky to have a match with men like them, rather them than a man like Aegon.

"Yes my king, I am... very happy to become a member of your household." You frowned as the kings eyes scanned your face.

Slowly, his feeble grip relented and allowed you to escape the stifling heat and burning eyes of the court, but more importantly those lavender eyes of the Princes.

Xxxxxxx

The icy air felt good on your skin, soothing the fire within you your chest heaving from your heavy pants. Closing your eyes you lent against the cold stone, enjoying the brief respite from the chaos of the feast.

"A Lady should never wander too far from the feast... especially one thrown in her honour. One might think your trying to escape... " A deep voiced purred. Opening your eyes you meet the violet eye of Aemond Targaryen.

"Prince Aemond I... I am so happy to see you." you sighed.

"Your rapid departure would appear otherwise...some would think you were not happy about our betrothal.’’

"I am happy..." you stuttered.

"I heard...very convincing." Aemond luscious mouth stretched out in a grim line.

"... Aemond...I am simply a little overwhelm. It all too much..."

“To much... your are to be princess. A Targaryen. A blessing from the Mother herself...many women would do unspeakable things to be standing beside two dragons.” His voice was harsh, as he growled at you.

“I didn't ask for this... I”

"Did you not...? So it was not you that went confessing to the septa asking them to absolve you of that little sin that that made  your little bud of yours glisten and gush... for me and Osferth" A tight smile graced his features as he descended upon you.

"My darling little brother came scurrying to me.” he purred. "A flustered stuttering mess. Should have seen how much cold water it took to soften his cock. Us dragon have fire in our veins and the mere thought of you makes us burn even brighter. I always thought you were too berthed over my brother taking his vows to even think of the one eyed cripple just like the rest of the court....” he advance slowly, pushing you back against the wall. "But on hearing how you wished us to devour you... Was to good to pass...” his voice was low now, hot like molten lava against your skin "having to come up with this little farce to get you my pretty girl, but your worth it. Even having to listen to those pious old cunt and being paraded around like a doll, worth it to soon be finally between your softness, having you to touch and hold every night. To be ours.” Aemond growled curling his hand around your throat, forcing you to look at him.

Never before had you seen the composed features of the dragon be so contorted with emotion. Another gasp gave him a opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Clumsy and awkward but still enough to take your breath away.

"Aemond." A scolding tone pulled your apart.

Osferth. His short golden hair, like a halo around him, he always seemed so otherworldly, they both did, but Osferth was so pure it hurt to even look at him. Even now you could not bare to look at him.

“I really thought you were beyond such base instincts dear brother.” Osferth preened as he walked closer, making you painfully aware you were still pinned to the wall by a firm, hard body.

“Do not pretend to be above them, dear brother. I was simply showing our future bride the intensity of our affection.” Aemond rumbled pulling you closer, his hand ghosting over your neck, making you whimper.

Īlon agree daor naejot sȳngagon zirȳla. (We agree not to scare her.)

Eza issare qrīdrughagon hen īlva tolī bōsa, kesan daor emagon zirȳla stolen qrīdrughagon dombo, qogralbar se rest hen zirȳ. (She has been kept away from us too long, I will not have her stolen away anymore, fuck the rest of them.)

 Aderī lēkia, aderī (Soon brother, soon)

“Aderi.’’ Aemond nodded, tightening his hold on you.

You stood frozen as you stared wide eyed at the princes as they glared at each other, only snapped from their silent communication as the words tumbled from you lips. "You lied... you were to become a Septon... How could you?..."

"Hush... I would not have joined, those men care less about the faith then anyone. They know nothing of goodness, or purity or love. My dreams and my thoughts are only of you. The Mother has shown me that the only true power she can give us is love. The love we have for you, and with that, we can better the world."

"But..."

"Hush, dear heart..." Osferth cooed, pressing you against him, wedging you fast between their bodies.

"Let me and Osferth look after you..." Aemond whispered lowly in your ear as his face burrowed into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. For the rest of the night, you were trapped between the dragon princes, never leaving your side.

Couldn't wait to post this while I edited my Claiming his Queen chapter. Please let me know what you think and if you want to see anything. This will properly be a series of one shot.

@multitargaryen

[pedrostylez]

So you have thoughts about Frankie being stoned and he’s so sweet but…what about Peña? And Joel?

Oh anon,

I've had THOUGHTS about these two, and it is difficult, to say the least. I am happy you've brought this to my attention though.

Smoking weed with Peña would be….interesting. I can’t decide if it would be a struggle at first to get him to just sit down and smoke with you because he’s DEA and he’s sooooo against all drugs, or if he would be the one offering it because at the end of the day, he grew up smoking weed and the DEA has stressed him out enough that he doesn’t give a fuck. 

Either would be tension-filled and horny as hell though, because something about you blowing smoke at him when you won’t smoke cigarettes makes him feel something deep. Like he is just itching to get his hands on you now and he is tingling and wants to see how far these physical feelings go….

From “Mi Luz”, Peña would want you to suck his dick while he had the joint in his mouth, getting higher and higher and closer and closer to his release because of how good you’re making him feel. Like come on that guy sees that you like smoking weed and whether or not he approves he just wants to be closer to you and wants to see you relaxed

For Joel....oh boy. Are we ready for this to be my first Joel interpretation?

Well, I have 2 different scenarios of Joel (post outbreak, in Jackson Joel) in my brain for smoking, and one is if you had seen him around Jackson, but never really interacted much with him until you were forced to (Like on patrol or something) and the other is you’re in an established relationship with him. BUT THEY BOTH END THE SAME WAY RIGHT BECAUSE THEY ARE BOTH JOEL

Because like, if you had an ongoing established relationship with Joel, I feel like he would not be down to smoke weed at first with you. He would be all protective and in a fatherly way say the shit wasn’t any good-that he would much rather drink. But when you would say it helps you relax and that you’re going to smoke and he can just watch (because you’re independent fuck him!) he grumbles and sits down in one of your chairs and watch you go through a whole joint and watch how your eyes would close and your shoulders droop. And then he would let you get to the very end before snatching it out of your fingers and taking the last few puffs before stubbing it out and blowing it in your face. And then he would get you to move from his spot on the couch and turn on a movie and let you lay down on his leg while he brushed your hair with his fingers or would massage your shoulders. And he would just say how cute you were all stoned out of your mind and let you fall asleep on his lap.

And if you weren’t in an established relationship with Joel, say you guys just found it after a raid or something, he would actually be a little giddy at the prospect of getting to smoke weed again. Like, before he had Sarah he was a major stoner but hadn’t touched the stuff since before the outbreak. And finding it all of a sudden is so exciting that he would find a way to smoke it, going back and forth with you on the opposite side of a couch or sitting across from each other at a table and just pass it until one of you quit or it was gone and then would be way more talkative than he had ever been before with you. He would talk about ideas he had or what types of houses he used to build with Tommy and would look at you for input. But the same thing would happen.

That he would let you lean on him, head in his lap as he brushed your hair away from your face letting you fall asleep and fully relax because he knows damn well how relaxed it makes him. And letting someone be close to him again even stoned and nothing else happening besides a head on his thigh lets him wash away all his worries. 

[celticcatgirl2]

“My fatherly intuition is tingling!!! I fear my son may be falling in with a hooligan crowd that partakes in marijuana and illegal graffiti art….WITHOUT HIS OLD MAN!!!!”

[wolfsclothing6]

His neighbor had an amazing pool. He knew because he would always spy on him. Sometimes he’d throw parties where lots of people would attend. Some hung out just dangling their feet in the pool, but many just waded and floated around in the water.

It seemed s little unusual they it was always all men, but that didn’t really matter much. The fact that they men were all big massive hair fellas was of note as well.

Finally, one particularly warm day he couldn’t take it any longer he snuck into his neighbors backyard for a quick skinny dip.

The water felt amazing. Refreshing. He probably should’ve also noted that the water made his skin tingle. He should’ve noticed as he packed on a few pounds. He should’ve noticed his body hair growing in.

But he didn’t… He was just to relaxed to care. When he finally got out of the water he grabbed a towel to begin drying off. He noticed his chest hair. He felt the breeze on his back and could occasionally feel the wind move his back hair.

His face felt bristlier because of the full beard they was now there. No longer was there the young nosy neighbor. Now stood a mature fatherly bear-like man.

He heard footfalls behind him and then a voice. He began to turn around, “I wondered when your curiosity would get the best of you. I can only imagine how much of that pool water is still ‘bear soup’. I know you saw the men at my party last night. I think they are going to like you. A sexy polar bear like yourself.”

He didn’t know what he pool owner was talking about until he held up his cell phone and showed him the video he’d taken. He watched himself as he swam and enjoyed the cool pool waters. Never noticing how his body was aging and changing.

He stood there, slack-jawed at what he saw.

“Don’t worry. I think you’re a sexy fucker. And I know a few of my friends will find you just their type,” he said moving his hand to grab his firm package. He was surprised that when his cock was grabbed that it was already beginning to stiffen. He moved in for a kiss and found himself kissing back.

The owner lead the neighbor by the hand into the house and to the bedroom.

[cyn-write]

Chapter 1: Down the Rabbit Hole

Synopsis: No two Yuu's are alike. Some are male, some are not. Some are Sweet and others are not. This one is certainly like none before, with a darker soul than any before. Will she change the way things have been and bring the darkness back to Ramshackles inn?

Trigger Warning for part 1: Panic/Anxiety Attack Described (this is based on my own experience with PTSD and Sever Anxiety Disorder)

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All she could do was close her eyes. Cyn felt the wind pressing against her back as she fell into the blackness. When she finally hit the ground, she opened her eyes and saw a mirror framed in bronze. In the center of this mirror was a hand, beckoning her to reach out and take it. She hesitated for a second, but the voice inside her head whispered, "take it, they need you, you must save them... from themselves." She reached out and resumed the fall.

When her feet touched solid ground, she braced for the impact. Then looked up to see a sea of people in black embroidered robes and a boy with blue hair and striking green eyes standing in front of her. She stepped back and held up her hands in defense.

"Are you okay?" the boy said in a startled tone.

"W-who are you?" She asked and looked around in fright. "Where am I?"

A hooded figure came up to her from the crowd, a black and pink-haired man. He had a fatherly atmosphere around him, despite his youthful appearance. "Dear, this Night Raven College... what's your name?"

For some reason, his aura soothed her. "Cynthia... I think... Cynthia Widow." She relaxed a bit.

"Hello Cynthia, I'm Lilia," He said, gesturing to himself as he waved the blue-haired boy back, "You fell out of the mirror. Can you tell us where you're from?"

Cyn tried to think, but she drew a blank, nothing came to her mind. "No... No, I- I can't. I-I can't remember anything. Why am I here?"

"Poor dear," Lilia said, as another man came closer to the mirror. His dress was differnt from the rest and the crow mask hid his feature.

"This is a college for mages. I am Dean Crowley, the headmaster of this esteemed 'all-boys' college," the crow-man said, "Until now... It seems the Mirror has graced us with the first female student! Let's see what dorm you're in so we can move on!"

"WAIT! SHE TOOK MY SPOT! I AM SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!" a loud voice called. Then a gray cat with flaming blue ears ran in... straight towards her. She felt an overwhelming sense of fear that she could not explain. This feeling flooded her body like a river being released from a dam.

As the cat came closer, Cyn moved back as suddenly a booming voice called out behind her. She spun around and saw a giant mirror with a face in the center... speaking. The mirror was speaking with the same voice that lured her into this place. "Cynthia Widow, the nature of your soul is... uncertain.... one I have not seen in centuries... The Curiosity of the Pumpkin King, Ramshackle!"

The crow was visibly shocked at this proclamation, and the students started to stir, "Ramshackle, we haven't had someone placed there since..."

"Move it spot, hogger!" The cat came closer and pushed her out of his way. She stumbled and fell off the platform.

"What is that cat doing here again? I thought I threw you out." The crow called, and Cyn crawled to her feet as her body started to feel light, as if it was prepared to run. "Dorm Heads! Catch the cat!"

"I'm not a Cat! I am Grim the Great! Greatest Mage in all the World!" The flame cat said, shooting blue flames from his paws. Cyn felt her legs wobble as the flames drew closer.

"T-the mirror... talked... the cat.. talked... fire... burning." Cyn felt her left arm tingle.

A red-haired boy and a silver-haired boy with glasses worked to catch the cat who was spewing fire, causing the tingling to get stronger and the feeling of pure terror to shoot through her blood-stream. Fear paralyzed her.

Lilia came over and blocked some shots that came too close. She felt her legs shake and crumble under her weight. A strong pair of arms caught her, and she looked up to see piercing green eyes appraising her.

"Mon Cheri, is it a pity we had to meet this way, but why don't I escort you to a seat?" The green-eyed man said.

All Cyn could say was, "...yes, please..."

The man took her to the second row of seats, where another group of students divided their attention between the flaming cat and the girl. He gently put her in a chair as he spoke calming words. "Mon Cheri, could you take a deep breath for me, please?" Cyn nodded and tried to settle her racing breath. "Good, now look into my eyes, ignore everyone else, and focus on me. Everything will be okay. The cat will not hurt you."

Cyn did as he instructed and tried to focus on her breath and the man's eyes. They were such a bright green, like emeralds shining in sunlight. "Roi Des Roses and Roi D'Effort just caught the fire cat. They handled the situation. Do you need some water? Or the nurse?"

Cyn nodded, and the emerald-eyed man went to go speak with a different group of boys in robes. Before he left, he had a green-haired guy take his place beside her.

"Hello Cynthia, I'm Trey, everything is okay. Rook is going to get the nurse and we are going to help you, okay?" Trey said, to ease her anxiety. Cyn nodded and looked around.

"I-I have no clue what's going on..." Cyn said softly. "I can't remember anything. The cat talked, the mirror talked, and I don't know what's going on... my head feels... fuzzy."

Trey immediately crouched before her so he was at eye level with her. "Hey, hey calm down. You're just having a panic attack, but it will pass. Everything will be okay."

The group came over and the conversation shifted to Cyn.

"You are not considering dumping her there. The poor thing is shivering!" Lilia said.

A Blond man stepped forward and waved for a blonde boy, Rook, to follow him. "We'll take her. Out of the Dorms, we are the safest for the girl-"

"What do you mean by that, Vil?" a lion-eared boy growled.

"Hold on," A Silver haired boy with glasses spoke up. "I think the dorm of Benevolence is the best place for her-"

"Why not let Cynthia decide," Lilia offered, crouching at the girl's level with Tray. "Dear, where would you like to go?"

"I- uhh..." Cyn felt her body start to shake intensely as she tried to understand what was going on. She could barely follow the conversation as is, but now she had to choose.

"She's clearly too shaken to decide," Vil said. "Now come with me. I'll have Rook take you to the infirmary and-"

"No, we will take her to the infirmary-"

"Boys! She is not a toy to be fought over. Now, why don't I take her to the infirmary and discuss this later?" Lilia intervened. Cyn barely understood any of the conversations. She focused on the floor. "Come dear, can you stand?" Lilia offered a hand to the shivering girl.

"I-it..." Everything went black as she passed out yet again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say the infirmary was crowded was an understatement. After the girl passed out, Crowley had Lilia take her up and told the rest they would discuss this after the Ceremony. The dorm leaders begrudgingly agreed, and after the mirror sorted the last student, three dorm leaders and a Vice came to join Nurse Pinklee, Crowley, and the still-asleep Cynthia in the cramped nurses' quarters. Pinklee was performing some routine check-ups while Crowley tried to calm the bickering students.

"We have plenty of room for her in Diasmonia-"

"Your boys would give her no space. She would be better off in Pomefiore-"

"Our boys would protect her for those brutes in Savana-"

"She is better off with us. We won't take advantage of her-"

"What are you implying, Riddle? You have no room for the girl-"

"Calm down, boys. I'm sure she will be fine in Rameshackle-"

"You are going to let that dump collapse on top of her?"

"That place is about to cave in-"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP!! I AM TRYING TO WORK HERE!" Pinklee finally had enough with the group. The lanky, green-haired man was about to blow a fuse. Even his husband couldn't get him this mad, this quickly. Everyone froze when they heard the usually motherly nurse yell at them. "If you are going to keep arguing, then do it in the hall! I will let you know when she wakes up, but after the day she has had, she won't be going anywhere until tomorrow."

Crowley took advantage of this opportunity "You heard Pinklee, we'll discuss this tomorrow. We have a meeting scheduled, anyway. So go back to your dorms, take care of your freshman, and I will keep you posted on her condition."

The four students left as begrudged as they entered, and finally, there was peace in the infirmary. Crowley shook his head and turned to his colleague. "How is she?"

Pinklee turned back to his sleeping patient. "She's recovering. She had a severe panic attack and but after a good night's rest, she'll be fine." Pinklee then looked up at Crowley. "You're seriously thinking about putting her in that dump? You know it's called 'Ramschakle' for a reason, right?"

"It should be liveable, besides the dust and ghost, it's a fine building." Crowley shrugged.

"As her doctor, I forbid her from living there until it's cleaned. Thoroughly Cleaned." Pinklee crossed his arms and glared at his boss. He knew Crowley was a cheapskate in every sense of the word, but he never thought he could throw someone in that dump. "So you have two choices: either get the dorm cleaned and fixed tonight, or have her stay in one of the other dorms until it's fixed, which means making decisions and dealing with complaints."

Pinklee knew how to get what he wanted out of Crowley. That's why he stayed at this testosterone-filled institution. "Fine. I'll clean it... keep me posted on her condition." Crowley left in a huff, leaving Pinklee and the sleeping girl to the peace of the night.

Pinklee sighed and resumed his check-up. He was trying to pinpoint any features that could indicate her heritage before his husband sent him the results of her blood test. It was a fun game the two had since college. Between her skin that was white as death and light-red hair, he guessed she was from the Island of Woe, but the slight point to her ears suggested Briar Valley. She could have some fay ancestry since Lilia seemed to flock to her, and he always adopts the lost fey. The most curious thing was the necklace she wore, a silver spider amulet with an ametrine gem as the thorax. It gleamed in the moonlight and Pinklee wanted to get a closer look at the gem to see if there was an inscription or engraving he could look up; but the moment he set a finger on the gem, the girl's eyes shot open and a hand gripped his wrist. Her eyes seemed to glow bright gold, and he felt a twinge of fear run down his spine.

"What do you think you're doing transvestite?" Cynthia said in a dark voice, "Mommy would turn in her grave if you stole something from a girl."

Pinklee reeled back, falling out of his chair and crawling back as the girl slowly sat up, turning her head to the side. "What's wrong William, or would you prefer to be called Wendy??" The dark voice rumbled the room and Pinklee felt the wall press against his back.

"H-how do you know that!? No one knows that!? W-Who the hell are you?" Pinklee called and put a chair in front of him.

The girl let out a deep, terrifying laugh. "Why, I am the shadow of the moon at night. I fill your dreams to the brim... with fright!" She cackled, then fell straight back, shaking as she laughed.

Pinklee hid in the corner and covered his head... until the laughing stopped. He slowly got up and approached the girl with cation, she was asleep, sleeping as if nothing happened. That is when the computer beeped.

Pinklee squealed and turned to see his glowing screen with a video call invite coming in from Hamsterviel University, his husband's work.

He quickly accepted and his large, wild-haired, idiot husband wasn't even looking at the screen. "Pinklee, the sample you sent me was fascinating! I have never seen anything like this! There is no- Pushka what happened. You look like you saw my ex-mother-in-law."

"Jub... I-I think I summoned the devil!" Pinklee kept his tone hushed. "S-she knows everything. She knows Wendy!"

"Are you sure it isn't my ex-mother-in-law?" Jub joked, and Pinklee shook his head violently.

"No. I'm serious! I-I went to grab her necklace, and I laid one finger on it. One Finger!! and it was like out of a horror movie. She called me Wendy, she knows about my cross-dressing, sheknowsaboutmymother!!!!!" Pinklee was frantic.

Jub's eyes went wide. "Let me see! Put her on the phone! I want to See!" Pinklee was this close to killing him remotely.

"Yes. I'm fine, thanks for asking." Pinklee said before taking his laptop over to the girl, half using it as a shield in case she wakes up again.

Jub was confused. "Are you sure she is alive? She looks dead to me."

Pinklee rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure of it. She scared me to death!"

Jub went quiet and muttered to himself. "Interesting... so delicate looking, yet her DNA suggests she is something... otherworldly. I ran her DNA through the database and she has no blood relations in the system." Jub smiled and got excited. "This is exciting! She may be the next evolutionary step. Pinklee, I need more samples! I will be on the first plane to Sage Island. Keep her there!"

"Jub!" Pinklee exclaimed and turned the computer screen back to him, "You can't experiment on MY students! Even if she needs an exorcist, I have a responsibility to keep her safe. Not to make her your next science experiment!"

"But Pushka! Think of the science!"

"Think of my JOB!" Pinklee shook his head in disbelief. "Look, if you want to come and help me treat her, you are more than welcome. According to Crowley, she has amnesia, but I am going to run some more tests and try to contact her family. If she does have amnesia, I will need your help to find the cause. If not, then you're not allowed to test her. Okay?"

Jub huffed and rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Pinklee smiled at his husband. "I am excited to see you though, either way."

"Yaya, you too." Jub said and waved him off, "Just don't get possessed till I get there, ya?"

"Don't even joke about that. Or else me and your Ex-wife will haunt you." Pinklee hissed, "Love ya, Jubs."

"Love ya too. Bye." Jub said before signing off. Leaving him alone again with the girl.

He was scared to be in the same room with the girl, but she was his patient, and she would have to be scary to survive in this school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He laughed. His laugh caused his chair to shake as he watched the mirror. He knew this story would be interesting, but he was even surprised at her actions. He sat and looked down his hall of mirrors as millions of versions of the same events play out; all at different stages in their tale, some years past and others years before. He watched as some stories ended in blue flames with death surrounding all, others end in sadness as the Yuu goes home, and some ended happily... sort of. But this story interested him greatly, as this yuu was not from the world he usually pulled from. No... she was from a darker place, a place of emotion and magic that differs greatly from this place.

He turns in his chair as his white mask gleams in the firelight, "This will be so much fun."

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If you made it this far, Thank you!!

Please Like and reblog and I hope to have chapter 2 out soon!

Disclaimer: My work is my work, so please don't steal it. I do not own any of the TWST characters except my OCs (Cynthia Widow, Nurse Pinklee, and Dr. Jubba). I promise I will get better at writing disclaimers.

[mrylin]

Not Here Anymore (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Summary: Wanda was bliped, you stayed. Five years away for you, five minutes for her. Maybe, nothing will be the same when she comes back. Maybe you don't exist anymore.

"Now I run to you like I always do, when I close my eyes I think of you, such a lonely girl, such a lonely world, when I close my eyes I dream."

Being away for so long, even if it was five minutes for her, was weird. She remembers feeling a tingling sensation all over her body, saw when brown dust flew a little in front of her eyes, and then she wasn't there anymore. She no longer saw Vision's lifeless body on the ground, she no longer saw the golden glove shine with the sun, she no longer felt the warm sensation in her chest that she felt when your magic was around her.

It was just a big nothing.

But then she came back and everything looked very different. Natasha explained what had happened, how long she had been gone. Five years. Five long years for everyone who stayed, five small minutes for those who went. Digesting all this was giving her a massive headache. What comforted her was knowing that they had managed to defeat Thanos. The world wouldn't go back to how it was before, some people were lost forever, but they made it. Everyone was there.

When relief shimmered in her chest for a second, faster than she could handle it, her heart dropped and her stomach tightened into a knot. She felt her hands start to shake and she clutched her chest, her hands glowing red, trying to feel something. Why couldn't she feel you? Why she wasn't feeling the comfort of your magic, telling her that you were okay and that nothing and no one could hurt her because you were there?

She felt her heart explode as she looked at Steve.

She knew. She knew you weren't there, that you wouldn't come back. You were fine, you were fine and alive and fighting against Thanos, knocking him out with your magic, one that in his ambition he tried to steal. It didn't seem real, but the more she looked at them, the more she stared at Steve, Tony, Natasha and Clint, the more she knew it wasn't a bad joke. It was a nightmare, one she could never wake up from. In that second when it hit her, she wished she'd never come back.

Her tears became more furious, her chest rising and falling heavily. She felt sobs rising in her throat but there was no sound, it felt like her voice had been stolen from her. Just like you. Just like everyone else. "Wanda..." She lifted her head and sniffled. Clint was looking at her with those fatherly eyes. He took her gently by the arms and pulled her against his chest. It only made her cry more.

Things flashed through her mind quickly, flashes and more flashes. Moments with you. Moments when she thought she was going to lose you. And the last moment she saw you. People were right when they said that when we face death, a movie of our life plays in front of our eyes. The difference was that she is dead inside.

"We buried her." Her eyes widened slightly and she lifted her head. "We had a funeral for her before you arrived. Maybe you can say goodbye." Tony crossed his arms and shrugged slightly. Wanda knew it wouldn't be the same but she needed it. She needed to see you one last time and say everything she wanted.

Now she completely pulled away from Clint and rubbed her cheeks, wiping away the tears. "I wanna go there." Steve wanted to protest, probably to say that everything was recent and that she would need to rest, but a glance in his direction made him change his mind.

Everyone wanted to go there with her, to help, to support, she couldn't care less. But Clint, ever her protector, said it was best to let her do it alone, something she was eternally grateful for. So she left, walked over to where Tony said where your headstone was and took a deep breath as she saw it from afar. Standing there for a few minutes, she finally plucked up the courage and came closer, kneeling down and seeing your name engraved in stone.

Wanda laughed tearfully. "Do you remember when you said that we were going to get old together? You promised me that all this, avengers, battles, powers, would end. And I think it will end, but you won't be here." She bit the inside of her cheek and smiled. "You won't be here."

Tears began to flow again as she blinked but she still smiled. Crying would drive out the pain she felt but in that moment she wanted to smile, wanted to remember the happy times. She would handle the rest later. "We had plans for a house in the suburbs. I know you hate small towns with nosy, gossipy housewives, but this was our home. Far from everything."

Running her fingers over the engraving on the headstone, she leaned over and pressed her forehead against it. Her finger began to caress the cold stone as she did with your face. "I love you, krasivaya. We will be together again. I promise."

She left a kiss, stood up and cast one last look, leaving when everything was too much for her chest. She knew where she would have to go now.

"It's smaller than I imagined."

Wanda rolled her eyes and laced her hand with yours and pulled you closer to the empty lot - but not for long. It was just a place with some dead grass and some bricks on the floor. She hoped that soon her dreamed home would be there.

From the plans she had made about decoration, her house was going to be something that reminded her of the 90's. At first you didn't like the idea but then you softened. Small town, small house. Maybe you could find some kind of passion in creating a garden, growing a tomato plant or becoming one of those gossiping women who already looked at the two of you with raised eyebrows. Idiots.

Wanda didn't seem to notice the crooked looks, just looking at the empty place and at the leaflet with the plans for the house in her hand."I think we could make the kitchen and living room a little bigger. Our children will need space."

"For what? Make cars fly, draw rockets on walls or release energy with their eyes?" She laughs when you make little laser beam noises. "Or so that you can teach them how to cook and, since they will be a perfect match for us, will you teach them how to lift rocks and open portals!?"

With a dreamy look, she hummed. "Yeah, I could teach them to cook. But no opening portals."

You twisted your mouth and muttered sullenly. "They will miss all the fun."

Unbuckling her seat belt, Wanda got out of the car and walked slowly to the ground. She still had the drawings you made about how you imagined it, and a sentence written at the end of the sheet. I'd like to say to grow old in, but I refuse to have wrinkles. So, to you grow old in. She remembers that she fell even more in love with you the night you gave her this.

She looked around again. The city is still the same as before, but now it seems even more dead. Maybe it was a consequence of the blip, or maybe it was connected with the feelings in her chest.

She was surprised when she felt her eyelashes wet, she thought she wouldn't have any more tears in her body, but one ran down her cheek and fell to the floor To grow old in. Pain. Shortness of breathe. Ringing in the ear. Knees bending. Magic. She couldn't see anything but red. It felt like whatever was happening was pouring the pain out of her body. So she got carried away.

Maybe at the end of it all she would see you again.

"The turkey just flew away."

"Oh, this is a disaster."

"Definitely."

hey! i'm happy to be back but i don't know if i liked it :( idk why. well, hope you enjoy anyway. i proofread as much as i could but it still can have mistakes since it's google and most of my dubious english but i tried.

the song is by taylor swift "7 years and 50 days". see you soon!!

[soft-boi-eli]

Could I get a cc!dadza and mumza oneshot? Where they have a child and the child gets sick with the common cold or something like that and it's just a bunch of fluffy fluff?

He'll yes. I have one other request so I'm sorry that it took a bit! I promise that i didn't forget this request.

Being sick is a dick

Dadza and mumza x sick!preteen! reader

All you knew was that when you got up to go pee last night everything felt cold. You felt really weak. Extremely tired. And you were shaking so bad.

There was no reason on to why you were feeling like that. But when your mom woke you for school she immediately knew something was up.

Her hand touched your forehead, it felt nice. Flipping it over she sighed. "Phil. (Y/n) is staying home. They're running a fever." She called to your dad. You looked at her tired. "But mom-." "No buts you are staying home I know you have a project you have to do for school. That teacher can suck it. You can do it when you're better." She was quick to cut you off.

"Now do you want soup? Crackers? Toast? Tea?" Humming lightly you shook you head. "I wanna sleep." Giggling lightly she rubbed you're head. "I know but can you wait for a sec. I want you to take some ibuprofen to get that temperature down."

Humming once more you forced yourself awake. It was hard when that's all you wanted to do. With that new stuffy nose that random tingle in your throat. But she was quick and the medicine that was was getting would help with these hot flashes from hell.

Handing you the two pills she placed your water bottle on you're night stand. "Take those and get some rest sweet heart." Humming was the only thing that didn't hurt. So carefully taking the pills you laid back down.

"Text us if you need anything. I don't want you getting a head ache or making one worse." She seemed to catch onto the humming.

When she left you just curled up in your blanket. Surprisingly you fell right back to sleep. For how long you had no clue. Having not want the pain in your head to start again you haven't touched your phone. Sitting up carefully you just looked at the dimly lit wall. Feeling more like trash then earlier.

No headache.

Just weak, not hungry, a little washy in the head, and unstable.

You didn't want to exit the cacoon you were in but your bladder wasn't going to let you stay there.

The instant you sat down there was that uncomfortable colder feeling. It made your body feel weaker and that sick muscle feeling worse.

Not like you were gonna hurl. More of just uncomfortable. As you finished up you washed your hands. Just wanting to lay down again.

As you werebwalking back your mother ran up to you.

"Child you shouldn't be out of bed." Shrugging you spike quietly, "had to pee." Sighing at you she shook her head. "Go lay back down. I'll bring you some soup." Humming slightly you walked off.

The soft smile on her face told you she wasn't truly mad. Just worried. Understandable because here you were swaying and looking as frail as glass right now. But colds did that. What do you expect? To not feel like trash when your body was using energy to fight off a damed bacteria?

Not happening.

When you leaned against the wall, body against your wall you relaxed. Letting the muscles in your body not use up any energy they didn't need to.

"Hey. I brought the soup. We thought you would like some company." Your father and mother were at the door. Smiling gently at them you lightly shook you head. "You guys will get sick. I don't want that." Your dad stared at you. "You had my whole stream worried child. When your mom called out and told me that you had a fever everyone was worried about childza. And like a little cold will stop me."

"Dadza. When you got sick last time you acted like it was the end of the world." The two in front of you shared a laugh. Lightly chuckling you grabbed the soup that was offered to you.

Mumza made the best soup. When you were sick all you want is her soup. It makes you feel happy. Brightened up the bad feeling in your body.

"You two are so childish." Her voice was soothing. "Well I am still a kid." She hummed. "But your father isnt." Looking them in the eyes I raided my eye brows. "He streams minecraft of course he's a child." Letting out a laugh mumza couldn't help it.

Phil. He was shocked. His child. How could they.

"Oh come on dadza it was a joke I promise. You honestly make me. Laugh when I need it." Holding his hand to his chest he feigned distrust. "No. It's obvious I am the child of this house. Announced by my own child." Laughing at his dramatic acting you forgot about the sickness. This is what you needed. This was perfect.

This was family.

Again apologize it is on the shorter side. I'm just having motivation issues and due to some physical pain lately I haven't been focusing. But I had so much fun with this one.

I'll let you guys in on a secret that might show alot.

I have never had a good father figure. My bio dad left me. He wasn't a good father. Not for a long shot. So I don't mind that he's gone.

So I have no idea what fatherly love is.

I just try to think of what I wanted my father to do for me as a child. And use that as a father child relationship.

Anyways i hoped you liked.

Eli out!!

[marvelsbanner]

Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx 

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

-

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god.  No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

-

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place. 

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

-

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat. 

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this. 

[uncpanda]

Small town Moose: Part 1

Prompt: When your best friend convinces you to move to DC with her, you’re more than a little lonely. You’re used to life in a small town, not a big city. For the first time in your life you’re mostly alone with your only company being your dog Moose. Then you meet a single dad and his son, and you realize maybe you’re not so alone? 

AN: After watching the show, I noticed that Hotch is fairly open outside of work, he’s not as serious and he smiles more. This is taking place about two years after Haley’s death, Jack is six. Reader is around 25-28 I rewrote this thing about six times, hopefully y’all will like it. 

“Can I pet your puppy?” 

You look up from your book to see a little boy smiling at you. He’s the first friendly face you’ve seen in the two weeks since you’ve moved to DC. “Of course, Moose loves attention.” 

The boy giggles at the name, “He’s not a moose.” 

“No, but when he was little he had these long legs and big paws, and he just reminded me of a moose.” He laughs at that explanation and moves in to pet your dog. He’s extremely gentle for a child, and Moose, the attention whore that he is, eats up every moment of it. 

“He’s really fluffy.” 

You smile, and lower your voice as though you’re going to tell him a secret, “You know what Moose loves more than anything in the world?” 

“What?” 

“Treats.” 

At the word your goofy dog becomes fully alert, and starts to do a full body shimmy. The boy laughs again and you pull out one of Moose's treats. “Do you want to give it to him?” 

He nods and you give him instructions on how to give it. You watch as the boy does exactly as instructed, it’s the best moment you’ve had in weeks. 

“Jack!” 

Your head snaps up at the sound of a frantic voice. The boy smiles and waves his hand, “Hi daddy.” 

The man comes towards the two of you at a full run, and when he reaches you he immediately starts checking the boy over for any injuries. When he seems satisfied that the boy is safe, he pulls him into a hug. “You can’t walk away like that buddy. You scared me.” 

“I saw a puppy.” 

The man’s eyes close and lets out a gentle laugh, “Just let me know next time, and we’ll go see the puppy together.” 

The boy, Jack, nodds, and very excitedly starts telling his dad all about Moose. The man listens with rapt attention and when Jack is done he turns to you and his dad and asks, “Can I play with Moose?”

You can tell his dad is struggling with what to say, so you step in, “As long as it’s okay with your dad, I don’t mind.” 

The man looks at you and you reassure him, “Moose is very gentle, he has all his shots, and honestly if your son doesn’t mind tiring him out some more I won’t object.” 

The man smiles, “Sounds good to me.” 

Jack and Moose can’t go too far. You have a long lead for him but not long enough for him to leave your sight. The man settles on the bench next to you, “Thank you for watching him until I found him. I took a phone call, I looked away for a second . . . it was stupid.” 

You shake your head, “Sounds human to me, and to be honest I didn’t even think about his lack of guardian. He was so excited about Moose, it was really cute.”  

He raises an eyebrow at that, and then he smiles, “In my not so humble opinion, Jack is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.” 

You laugh at that show of fatherly pride, but you can’t help but agree. You hold out your hand and introduce yourself, “I’m Y/F/N Lance. It’s nice to meet you.” 

He takes your hand, it’s nice and warm, and sends the smallest tingle through you, “Aaron Hotchner.” 

The two of you watch Moose and Jack play for a minute before he asks, “Are you from around here?” 

“Just moved here two weeks ago, under protest.” 

“Military?” 

You shake your head, “No. I do website design and some photography on the side. I moved here at the request of my best friend. She got a new job here, and needed a roommate. She didn’t like the idea of rooming with someone she didn’t know, so she hounded me until I said yes.” 

“That sounds . . .” 

“Like torture? No. She means well, and to be honest it’s probably good to get away.” 

“You don’t sound like you believe that.” 

You laugh, “Is this an interrogation?” 

His lips quirk and he shakes his head, “Not at all. It’s a side effect of the job I suppose.” 

“Cop?”

“Something like that.” 

Before the conversation can go any further, Moose and Jack are back. Your dog, ever the dramatic, makes a scene out of lying down on his side and panting. Jack is quick to follow his lead, and climbs into Aaron’s arms. 

You watch as he adjusts the boy, and stands up, “Well, it looks like you have a tired dog and I have a tired kid. I’d say with the exception of a close heart attack, this was a successful outing.” 

You smile and nod, while pouring some water into Moose’s collapsible dish. “It was nice meeting you Aaron. And it was wonderful meeting you Jack.” 

The boy smiles and buries his head in his father’s neck. And it’s with a little bit of sadness that you watch them go. You give Moose a few minutes to get ready to walk again. The walk back to your apartment building is less than a mile, but it’s not like you have anywhere to be; you’d finished unpacking everything within three days, your home office was set up, and you’d started getting Moose’s new schedule under control. 

You pick up pizza, wings, and anything else that you’re craving. The leftovers will mean no cooking for a few days, and that honestly sounds like heaven. The pizza place is less than a block from your place and you make it home in record time. 

You’re just walking into the lobby when you bump into someone. You apologize as you regain your footing and look up into a familiar set of eyes. Aaron is quick to steady you, and ask, “Are you okay?” 

“Fine. I feel stupid for trying to manuver a dog and food at the same time, but I’m fine.” 

He smiles, “You live in this building?” 

You nod, and give him your apartment number, he laughs, “That’s right next to Jack and me.” 

This time you laugh with him, “Here, let me help you with that.” Before you can protest he’s taken the majority of the food out of your arms, and all you can say is thank you. 

“It’s really not a problem. We’re going in the same direction.” 

The elevator ride is silent for a minute before he says, “Jack is going to be ecstatic that Moose lives next door.” Moose wags his tail at the mention of his name, “He’s all Jack could talk about on the way home. He told Jessica all about him on the phone.” 

“His mom?” 

“Aunt. His mother passed away about two years ago.” 

There's sadness in his voice, but you don’t say you’re sorry. You’d always hated those words in times of grief, “It’s never easy to lose a loved one.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

There’s another moment of silence before you get the nerve to ask, “Have you an Jack eaten yet?” 

“What?” 

“I ordered too much food. That should teach me to order before I’m starving. So if you and Jack haven’t eaten yet, why don’t you guys come over.” 

You watch him consider it for a moment, before he agrees, “That would be lovely. Thank you.” 

You drop Moose’s leash when the elevator doors open, and he goes straight for the apartment door. “We’ll be over in about five minutes, is that okay?”

“Perfect.” 

Sure enough, five minutes later, right on the dot, there’s a knock on the door. On the other side is a very excited Jack, and an amused looking Aaron. The boy breaks out of his father’s hold and makes a mad dash for Moose. A second later he’s curled up on the dog bed too. 

Aaron looks flummoxed, and you reassure him, “I just washed the dog bed if that’s any comfort.” 

“It is, but I think I may have been replaced by a dog.” 

Jack has no interest in food at the moment, instead he’s telling Moose about everything he knows. So you and Aaron eat together, “How long ago did you move in again?” 

“Two weeks ago.” 

“And you’re all unpacked and everything. I had boxes around my place for months.” 

It was something to do in between work times. The two of you fall into an easy conversation. You talk about your small hometown, he tells you about his life. He’s quick to explain that he travels a lot for work, and his sister-in-law helps care for Jack. Jack eventually eats, before going back to lay next to Moose. It’s nearing ten o’clock when you both notice the time. Jack is conked out, one arm wrapped around Moose, while one of your dog’s paws rest on Jack. 

You bring a finger to your lips to signal for silence, and sneak back to your office. You grab your camera, and take several shots. When you’re satisfied you turn back to Aaron and say, “I’ll send them to you, but it was too cute a moment to pass up on.” He just smiles, and you can’t help but think that maybe you’re not as alone as you originally thought.