#my scalp feels so much better. gonna fall asleep about it.

[crimeronan]

spent my whole morning watching videos of matted cats being shaved and thinking about princess AU hunter taking care of luz's hair before i finally figured out that i was in sensory hell. and would stop being in sensory hell if i brushed my own hair.

anyway. ya bitch is now soft and fluffy.

[tbaluver]

Hi...I love your writing so much, Big Fan >_< ♡

Can I ask about what it's like to shower with LNDS men?

Thank U

Showering With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content. short NSFW is right below the SFW ! (p.s sorry if this format was confusing ! just wanted to add both in this one) a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you for supporting my work i always appreciate it so much ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading this and my other future works ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i dunno but i might make a shower smut after writing these LMAO anyways gonna post another headcanon in a few hours after this (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier: (SFW)

More of a shower person than a bath person because there were too many times to count on how many times you saw him asleep in the bathtub.

Almost falls asleep when you massage his scalp with soap as he wraps his hands on your waist to keep balanced. It just felt too relaxing and he couldn't help but flutter his eyes closed

Has a fair share of wash products but he ends up using yours because yours smell better and it smells like you.

He loves it when you clean him, it feels such a safe and intimate space between the two of you. You hum softly as you work gently against his scalp that you lathered. He felt so safe, so warm, in the space that you two created that he eases into the relaxation.

Loves the feeling of you every time he grazes his hands over your body. Obviously he’ll make sure to wash you as well. He’ll make sure that the soap doesn’t get in your eyes. Sometimes the two of you stand and hug, enjoying each other presence, while the water pours over the two of you-until the water gets cold.

Xavier: (NSFW)

He can't help it. You'll feel his hard-on when he's pressed up behind you. Ruts into you very slowly against your ass as he wraps around you while his hand is planted on your thigh to control the lazy pace. His moans would invade your ear as shaky breaths escape your lips.

Zayne: (SFW)

Another intimate time for the two of you.

When he’s coming home from work, he’s basically putty in your hands. You didn’t need to ask twice. He would barely have any energy to eat dinner or shower. He’s so touchy when you’re helping him wash him off while he lowly murmurs in your ear ‘thank you’s’

The type of man that would admire your body as he washes you with the body soap and shampoo. He has seen your body many times and has memorized every detail of you. But each time he sees you, it's like discovering you anew again. His eyes trail down as his hands lower, lower, and lower down your body as he washes you with the body soap.

Helps you wash your back and any hard places for you to reach and you do the same for him as well.

When you offer to help him wash his hair, he leans down, and you lather it with extra soap, laughing at how cute he looks. He doesn’t mind this at all, he finds your reaction to be adorable whenever you do this.

When he washes your hair, he is always so gentle. “Close your eyes for me, my love.” He’ll say softly as his hands carefully knead shampoo into your hair before washing it all away. He'll make sure none of it goes into your eyes.

Once you both finish washing, he turns off the shower and steps out to grab your towel. You both dry each other off, making sure every drop of moisture is gone and helps you put on your robe.

Zayne: (NSFW)

One finger would be rolling on your nipple while the other hand works through your folds. His mouth would be sucking and swirling on your breasts.

He'll use the shower bench to sit and to meet your height to suck on your breasts but will also use that opportunity to let you ride him.

Rafayel: (SFW)

Takes a long shower and I’m talking hours. He most definitely hogs the water and leaves you cold behind him. Has way too much showering products than you but he’ll definitely share them with you

Jokes aside, he would not stop caressing every inch and curve of your body when he sees you glistening with the water.

Loves to wrap his arms around you from behind. He’ll trail kisses on your shoulder to your ear while whispering how cute you look  before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Lets you try all his expensive washes and you two would experiment every shower on which is the best

Would tell you to wash him and he loves it when you wash his hair. The way your fingers scrub the shampoo and your nails massaging his scalp, felt like heaven to him. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder as you wash the suds out and he’ll have a content smile resting on his lips.

When the two of you are finished drying up, he'll make sure to pick the best moisturizer for the two of you before you both get dressed

Rafayel: (NSFW)

Round two. After you both finish having sex in bed or wherever, you’ll find him against you again all naked and wet. His arousal is more heightened in the water. He just needs his pretty girl again after the mess you made on his cock

Loves how the water slides and glistens down between your bodies

Sylus: (SFW)

The type to say, “Why waste water when we can just shower together.” And I fear he does have a point so that’s why you both shower together often.

He likes to stand behind you most of the time because this allows him to place his chin on your head as the water falls onto the both of you.

He is most definitely going to get handsy using the soapy water. He’ll moves his hand further down to rub your butt and give it a light squeeze

He loves to put the lather of soap on your nose or place a bunch on your hair just to see your reaction. He also finds it amusing to see you try to do the same with him but you can’t because of your height difference. It usually ends up in a bubble war between the two of you.

He helps dries you off first before you help him dry him off. He'll lower his head so you can ruffle the towel on his head.

When it was his turn to wash his hair, he would lean down, a smile curling on his lips as he gazed at your face while you carefully shampoo into his hair

“Sy close your eyes”

“Why would I do that when I want to stare at my pretty girl?”

Sylus: (NSFW)

You turn him on easily so showering with him feels like he has a permanent hard on. Once you step in the shower, he’ll let you get warm and wet before he starts  rubbing up on you. He just loves the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, especially since you both are wet.

Pins you against the glass door of the shower and takes you from behind. His right hand finds your breast, squeezing them and pinching your hardening buds in the warm water while his left hand is on the plush of your ass. Sometimes he'll press you up against the wall and have your legs wrapped around him so you don't slip, just let him do all the work as he ruts into you

[funniestpersonalivefr]

could you do aftercare hcs for the resident evil men and women?

aftercare (resident evil men)

im dropping the other half with this one i promise 🙏. anyways obviously some nsfw themes so mdni and this is not proofread. include; albert wesker, leon kennedy, chris redfield, carlos oliveira, and ethan winters.

albert wesker:

he's not the best at it

to be fair you are probably the first person he cares about

wesker just lacks the experience with aftercare

if you bring it up he'll def start making more of an effort

he will leave immediately for work

wesker's arms are around you. he's holding you close, you can feel his breath on your neck. your hands comb through his blonde hair, disheveled from the night's activities. you're covered in hickeys, your hips have bruises from his grip. as the two of you sit in the silence, about to fall asleep, his phone goes off.

he sighs as he moves out of your touch in order to check. you watch his face, his jaw clenches in frustration as he reads the message.

"i'm sorry," is all he says as he gets up, getting dressed. just like that, with a kiss on your forehead, he's gone.

leon kennedy:

leon is a gentleman

he's such a sweetheart to you afterwards

he insists on cleaning up

leon is constantly wanting to improve

sometimes it feels like he's asking for a performance review

"are you okay?" he asks. leon takes a wash cloth and gently cleans the mess he left between your thighs. you nod your head at him, running your fingers through his hair.

"yeah, i'm fine," you reply back to him. he hums in response as he finishes cleaning up before he clears his throat.

"so uh, how did i do?" he asks somewhat sheepishly. you giggle at him, pulling him in for a kiss.

"leon, i can barely walk, you did amazing." he smiles at your response.

chris redfield:

king

everything about chris is huge so he's always taking such good care of you after sex

he's making sure he wasn't too rough

expect a bubble bath and massage from him

and he's gonna wanna cuddle after all of that

the two of you sit in the warm bathtub, chris is behind you as he helps clean you up. his touch is gentle as he places kisses along your shoulders.

you are relaxed into his touch, his hands gently massage shampoo into your scalp. any knots from your muscles disappear with his touch.

"you did so good for me," he mumbles into your skin as he kisses over the marks left behind. you smile and hum, moving just enough to capture his lips with yours.

carlos oliveira:

he's not big on like doing an entire bubble bath

however like chris everything about carlos is huge so he'll make sure you're okay

carlos is another one who can get rough in the heat of the moment

he'll plant a kiss on every mark to 'kiss it better'

big cuddler too

"you okay?" carlos asks, he's still hovering above you, looking down. you smile and nod, pulling him in for a kiss.

you pull away to give him an actual answer, "i've never been better." he chuckles at your words as he moves to get off you.

as he flops down next to you, he's quick to pull you against his bare chest. you rest your head, listening to his heartbeat. you let out a yawn, your exhaustion was evident. carlos smiled, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back to encourage you to sleep.

ethan winters:

another sweetheart

ethan whimpers is a bottom, just need to get that off my chest

you are probably cleaning him up

however he is all over you after that

expect so many kisses and cuddles from him

you press a kiss to ethan's forehead as you climb off of him, his face is flushed as he catches his breath. you're quickly cleaning him up, he whimpers a little from your touch. you smile up at him, pressing another kiss to the side of his face.

once you return, he's wrapped around you. he buries his head into the crook of your neck, leaving soft kisses there. the feeling of his breath tickles, and you laugh a little as you pull him close.

"i love you so much," he mumbles against your skin as he falls asleep in your arms.

[bkgml]

katsuki when you get your nails done!

katsuki absolutely loves when your nails are done.

they make you feel dainty and pretty. you’re always tapping everything, your gestures have skyrocketed, and you keep glancing at your nails and sighing dreamily.

but the best part about you with your nails done, is the head scratching.

on a normal day you scratch katsuki’s head to help him fall asleep, but your nails are normally short. now that they’re done he can’t get enough.

“hey, kats. c’mere!” you squeal from your place in bed.

“what’s up?” he says, poking his head out from the bathroom.

“i got my nails done! come sit in between my legs so i can scratch your head!” you smile.

why would he ever pass up a chance to lay in between your plush thighs?

“this better not be some trick, woman. if i sit there and you start digging your damn claws into my head i’m sleeping on the couch.” he says, climbing into bed anyway.

he lays face down, head on the chub of your pretty stomach he loves so much.

then he feels your nails go through his hair from the tip of his head, to the hairs at the back of his neck.

he gasps.

“oh my fucking goddddd.” he practically moans.

goosebumps appear all over his body the second you start to scratch lightly at his scalp.

is this heaven?

he never wants to leave, ever. he could die here.

“holy fuck i love you.” he breathes.

your eyes widen. he’s become completely transparent from the sensation of your nails.

“you like when my nails are done, baby?” you say through a grin.

“yes- fuck yes.” his jaw is slack, eyes closed. he’s having serious trouble staying awake.

then you stop.

his head snaps up.

“no no. what the hell?”

“i have to get ready for bed katsuki.” you laugh.

you untangle yourself from him so you can get unready.

“you’re fuckin evil.” he huffs.

you laugh on your way to the bathroom.

“i’ll go fast!”

“yeah right.” he mumbles.

ten minutes later, you’re out of the bathroom.

“get in here, now.” he glares at you.

“so needy.” you tease.

he’s now decided to move up to your chest.

he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head, closing his eyes in preparation of the magic hands that practically sedate him.

you kiss his head and resume your motions. scratching up and down and up and down at the hairs on the base of his neck, up into the top of his head.

he groans.

“goodnight katsuki.” you smile.

“i’m gonna buy you pretty nails all the time if this is the treatment i get.” he says through a yawn.

“i like the sound of that.”

[rafesslxt]

HEYYY, I was wondering if you can write an imagine Abt Mattheo. It being the reader having a rough day, and shutting down. And Mattheo is just there letting her know that he's there for her

sorry for the late answer I‘m answering all the requests right now 🫶🏻 — hope you still enjoy

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU | m. riddle

summary: mattheo comforts you after a rough day

warnings: none but mattheo being the cutest boyfriend ever 🫠

words: 1k

As soon as I enter the common room of my house Slytherin, i let my shoulders fall down, sighing loudly. My feet bring me towards my dorm that I share with Pansy who is currently still in class. I throw my bag in the corner of my side of the room and let myself fall down onto the bed.

I know there are always people who have a much worse day happen to them and all, but I couldn't help but feel just so.. drained and sad?

I let out a sigh again and stand up, walking towards my closet. After rumbling through it for a little bit, I find my boyfriends Hoodie he gave me. Before pulling it over my head I wrap both of my arms around it and take a deep breath of it's smell. It smells like his cologne and cigarettes but in a comforting way.

I take off my skirt too and put on some oversized grey sweatpants which are perfect for my current mood. I lay back down on my bed and look at the clock on my nightstand. It's almost an hour before Mattheo's last class is over. I groan and look at the ceiling, thinking about what I could do until I get the idea to write in my diary. It's the first opportunity to get some thought out of my head, writing them down always helped. My hand reaches into the drawer of my nightstand where I full out a black notebook Mattheo once gave me. He said it would be cute as a new diary since my old one got full.

So I start writing down everything that comes to my mind until I fall asleep with the notebook open beside my head and my pencil still in hand.

Suddenly I feel something pulling the pencil from my hand, bit my eyes were too heavy to open them. I knew that it is Mattheo instantly as I smelled his cologne over me like a little cloud. Then I hear him shuffling through my sheets until he pulls me closer to him, wrapping both his arms around my body which curls against his.

"Sleepy?" he mumbles against my hair before kissing my forehead. "Had a rough day." I mumble back, nuzzling my head more into his chest. "What happened?" he asks with a soft voice, his fingers slowly starting to go through my hair. I sigh and try to get even closer to him.

"At first I spilled juice all over my blouse at breakfast which lead me to coming too late to Professor Snape's class. Which is a big problem itself. Then I couldn't answer even one of his stupid questions for what he scolded at me but didn't deducted any points for Slytherin which lead the Gryffindors to scold at me." I could hear him chuckle at the last part. " After that my Quill broke, my potion brewed over in Professor Slughorn's class, and back in the yard where I wanted to take a deep breath, some first graders somehow managed to throw a ball against my head. But when they saw my face when I turned around they apologized. I heard them whispering your name when they ran away though." Again, I hear him chuckle at the last part.

"I just feel like shit, Mattheo." I sigh, feeling my eyes getting teary. "Oh baby come here." he pulls me on top of him, wrapping both his arms around me again, one hand massaging my scalp. " I'm here for you okay? And I promise tomorrow is gonna be better than today. Besides that we have a lot of classes together tomorrow, son everyone who eve try's to scold my princess, got a big problem with me by your side." He kisses my forehead again before placing his fingers on my chin, turning my face up to look at him.

"I'm always gonna be here for you baby." he whispers before putting his lips on my softly, almost careful as if they were to break. His fingers slide from my chin up along my jaw, then placing his palm on my cheek, pulling me a little closer to deepen the kiss.

When he slowly pulls

back he smiles at me and goes "felling better?" I nod with a little smile and kiss his jawline. "Thank you." I whisper against his skin before laying my head back on his chest.

"Just gonna cuddle you all evening hm." he says with a grin that I can hear. "That would be perfect."

And we did. We cuddled all evening, listened some music and talked about his day too. We talked about the upcoming holidays and how we're gonna spend them together for the first time in our relationship.

"I have an idea, but I have to get up for it." he says, playing with my fingers in his hand. I groan and shake my head. " No, then I don't like that idea." He laughs quietly and looks down at me. " Oh believe me, you'll love my idea when you see what It is." I groan again and roll off of him, wrapping my sheets which smelled like him now over me.

He stand up and walks towards my door. " I promise I'll try to be fast." he says before leaving my room. After around 15 Minutes I hear the door open again, turning around to see him walking in with two mugs in his hands. He kicks the door shut behind him with his foot and strolls over to me with a smirk on his lips. "What do you have there?" I ask, getting up on my elbow. He holds one of the mug in front of me so I can see the content. I gasp when I see what it is, my favorite drink. Hot chocolate with marshmallows. I sit up and take the mug out of his hand, a bright smile on my lips now. "How did you-" "Doesn't matter. Just enjoy baby." he smirks, taking a sip of his own, leaving a mustache of chocolate above his upper lip, making me giggle.

He grins at me cheeky and licks it off with his tongue, placing his mug on my nightstand. I do the same and lay back down with him, in his arms again. "Thank you Matty. I love you." "I love you too, sweetheart. I'll always be there for you."

thank you for reading 🫶🏻

my current 1000 follower special and my masterlist

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username 💞 [if u don‘t wanna be on the taglist anymore just write me a message <3 ]

xoxo sarah <3

[mythicmanuscripts]

aemond kneeling between your legs, laying his pretty head on your leg, cheek leaned against your thigh, as you smooth your fingers through his hair, giving his scalp a gentle scratch, and stroke his face, softly tracing his scar, admiring his beautiful sapphire. he leans into your touch, the safest he’s ever felt, and hums quietly as you hold his face in your palm, thumb stroking across his bottom lip. he parts his mouth and gazes up at you with softness and sweetness and admiration and love in his eye, your good boy, your perfect boy. he takes your thumb into his mouth and his eyes flutter shut, a soft whimper leaving him as your other hand pets his pretty head.

I... I am in awe of you anon. This is so incredibly good I honestly have no idea how I'm gonna manage to write anything even close to this level in response but I'm gonna try my best.

Soft, sweet NSFW sub!aemond below the cut :))

The first time you suggest kneeling for Aemond, he's offended. He knows you know how important it is for him to feel loved and how much he hates anything with humiliation and degradation. It took him so long to let his walls down with you and to finally feel safe, so he can't quite believe it when you suggest it.

This is one of the very few things that you actually press him on a little because you know how much he will love it if he tries. He ends up agreeing a few days later because you've never been wrong before about what he needs.

And holy fuck he loves it. He sinks onto the pillow in a perfect kneeling position and almost instantly he feels relaxed. He's got his back to the door, and he knows if someone comes in you will spot them immensely and get them out. He can fire the fire crackling beside him and it's like for the first time his mind is completely still.

Just when he thinks this cant possibly any better, you put as hand on the back of his neck and gently pull him towards you. You tell him that he can rest his head on your thigh. He does so, and as he relaxes it's like you can physically see the tension leaving his body. His posture slacks, his kneeling position no longer perfect but the way he gazes up at you lets you know he feel so good there.

When you put your hand in his hair, he hums and close his eyes, nuzzling against your thigh. You're never seen him looking this relaxed before.

After a little while of playing with his hair while reading, you put your book down and cup his cheek to gently direct him to look up at you so that you can ask him if he's okay. Well, you planned on asking him but you never get that far because before you can, he's slowly blinking his eyes open and nuzzling his cheek against your hand.

His lips curve upwards in the smallest content little smile and then he turns his head just enough to take your thumb into his mouth. You decide not to ask him then because it's so so clear he's so happy and peaceful, so instead you just say he looks so pretty like this, and he just whines around your thumb.

You let him stay there until he starts to shuffle a little and seems unsettled. You take his cheek in your hand again and gently direct him up to ask what's wrong and the moment you look into his eyes you know he's slipped into subspace. You pull him up immediately, letting him cuddle across your lap while you wrap an arm around his back to keep him stable. He relaxes against you, pressing soft kisses to your neck.

That becomes the tradition after that. He'll kneel for you until he slips into subspace and then he can cuddle up to you.

I also think he falls asleep much much easier when he's in subspace because his mind is quiet and he doesn't have to battle with himself to get to bed. So when he's had a hard day and he knows he won't be able to fall asleep easily, he'll kneel for you first and then go to bed with you afterwards.

Also, sometimes he'll end up eating you out. When he slips into subspace, he sometimes lets you know this by nuzzling against your thigh and kissing you there, whining and looking up at you with big eyes because he wants to eat you out. You pretty much always let him, and by the time you pull him away from you he's rock hard and deep in subspace.

He will also sometimes ask you to read to him or even complain to you about his day? While he will absolutely tell you about his day without kneeling at the same time, there are just some things that are easier for him to talk about when he's kneeling for you.

He'll speak about his insecurities while he kneels for you, opening up about so much because he just finally feels so so safe there.

[partycatty]

BRO IDK WHAT TO REQUEST LOL IDK HOW TO ASK THIS, BUT COULD YOU WRITE SOME SLEEPY JOHNNY CAGE FLUFF, Like just tooth rottingly sweet johnny like idk i just want to love on him when he's sleepy and just say sweet shit to him like, idk whatever you want to write, you're fucking great at doing it so I'll let you be the boss. ily.

johnny cage > long hours

the production of his new movie leaves johnny feeling exhausted 24/7... and clingy.

warnings: idk this is probably ass, it's really short

notes: i am once again inviting you to my discord server!

[ masterlist ]

• johnny's new job - writing and directing his new mortal kombat movie - had taken a toll on him, that much was evident. he'd be gone for long hours, returning disheveled and half awake, and the first thing he'd do was come to you.

• you were his rock, sometimes even his caffeine boost due to the pure excitement he felt locking eyes with you. johnny expressed multiple times - sometimes even in his sleep - that you were his greatest motivator and prize when it came to coming home. he loved you, and he loved you hard.

• this particular night, it had reached close to three in the morning when you finally heard the front doorknob jiggle. setting down your book, you pad your way down the stairs and to the foyer. you were already in your pajamas, always ready to pass out when he'd come home. he'd never ask you to, but you're always willing to stay up until he makes a safe return.

• his coat is thrown onto the floor, bag discarded onto a bench, and johnny climbs right up against you, nuzzling into your neck with heavy breaths. even while standing, he's cuddling you, breathing in your scent and nearly climbing into your skin.

• "missed you," he hums, the vibration tickles your neck. "a lot."

• "i missed you too, big guy," you rub circles into his back, tilting your head to better slot his face into your neck. "how's about bed, mm?"

• "too far," he groans, his arms wrapping themselves around your middle and pulling you impossibly closer. "couch."

• johnny's hands roam across your middle, clinging onto fistfuls of your pajama shirt with all his remaining strength. you walk him back, falling back onto the couch. johnny happily obliges to the change, laying directly on top of you.

• "you're gonna squish me to death," you teasingly warn him, running a hand up and down his back. "you're heavy."

• he whines a long, complaining whine, peppering kisses to your jaw. "s'okay," he murmurs, lips dragging along your cheek. "i squish you... s'okay..." you realize he's not entirely present in the moment, relishing in your warmth. maybe he deserves this moment of squishing.

• he's all muscle, his weight pressing into you not enough to cause pain but enough for you to be slightly winded. johnny rubs his face against yours, humming contentedly.

• "i love you," he breathes, his stubble scratching you. "my favorite thing... ever."

• "i love you too, superstar," you respond, breathless. a hand finds his hair, raking through it gently while applying pressure to his scalp. he moans at the feeling. "you work so hard, you know that?"

• "mhm."

• "and you're strong."

• "i am?" his voice is weak, teetering on the edge of babytalk. he knows the answer, he just prefers you to say it.

• "so strong," you reply, chuckling to yourself at his vulnerability. "the strongest." your other hand traces around his back, feeling each dip and bump of the muscles he worked so hard to achieve.

• "mmh," he can only hum in response, tucking his arms underneath you to hold you tighter. "you're so nice to me."

• "of course i am," you agree, patting his back. "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. i know i'll always have you by my side, and i know we're apart often nowadays but i know it's because you're working on your movie. this is huge for you, and i'll always support you, my love. you're my favorite, i hope i make it clear every waking moment i ca-" you hear faint snoring.

• johnny has fully fallen asleep, snoring into your neck and body now fully pressed against you. you didn't blame him, you had gone on a tangent when he was barely there to begin with. he's been working hard, maybe too hard. perhaps you could convince him to take a day off sometime soon. you're due for a date, not just a nap-on-the-couch date. you suppose this was your new sleeping location for the night, and so your eyes flutter shut as your repetitive stroking of his hair fades away. the two of you pass out on the couch, cherishing what little time you're given with the love of your life.

[daenysx]

could you do a drabble where reader is trying to study but aemond is distracting them? I long for needy attention seeking adorable aemond rn 😂

new crumbs from ewan made writing this really easy!! i just missed seeing aemond so much, thank you for this request!

send me your requests for drabbles

a kiss on your shoulder.

another kiss on the top of your head.

just when aemond leans in to kiss your other shoulder, you turn your face to him and his lips find your bottom lip with an instinctual movement.

"you really should let me study. what will happen if i fail my exam, hmm? do you think you can handle my tears?" you say, teasing him with a smile.

"i can handle your everything." he says, his lips press on your neck this time. "come on, take a break."

you exhale, pointing the papers in front of you. "aemond, i can't. i have to finish these by tomorrow morning to catch up with the schedule."

he looks defeated, hands in the air as if he surrenders. "fine. i'm just gonna stay on bed. you know, in case you'd like to give your poor boyfriend some attention."

you chuckle, he gives you smile. you know how he cares about your studies, he'd never do anything to interrupt them. aemond just misses you. for the past week he has only seen you in the mornings and in the middle of the night when you bury your tired body in his arms as you both fall asleep. this evening however, he came home from office earlier than usual only to find you at your table, studying.

he takes a few steps to go lay on the bed, grabs his book from his nightstand, and starts reading it. you turn to your papers but his presence makes you want to just give up and be with him. you look at his direction again. "okay, how about i just finish this one page when you're reading and then we can cuddle?"

he lifts his head, "sweetheart, you don't have to procrastinate your work for me. you know i was just teasing."

you nod, "yes, but i miss you. i can wake up earlier to finish the rest of it."

"i don't want you to lose sleep, you need to rest."

"i need you more." you smile. "just 5 minutes, wait for me."

he nods, knowing he can't convince you otherwise. he keeps reading with a smile on his face, lifts his head after finishing his page. you write something with quick fingers, your lip between your teeth, all determined to finish faster to be with him as soon as possible.

you drop the pen and leave your chair. you jump on bed, holding onto his waist as he keeps reading. "come on, take a break. your poor girlfriend needs some attention."

his smile reaches his ears and he leaves the book. you are on top of him, wrapped around his body like a koala instantly. he kisses you and it's as natural as breathing. his fingers wander on your body, settle down on your neck to hold you. he breaks the kiss when he feels you need a deep breath and he looks at your swollen lips with a proud expression.

"i missed you, aemond."

"i missed you more, sweet thing." he tucks your hair behind your ear. "missed you enough to beg for your attention."

you kiss his cheek. "you don't need to beg for my attention, you always have it. it was a busy week but it's nothing we can't handle."

"yes, sure, we're handling it. except that i've become a desperate man without seeing your face and turned aegon's life into hell. he can call you because of it, just ignore him."

your lips curl into a loving smile and you can't help it. you lean into him just to kiss him everywhere. his neck is first, his sharp jawline, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the skin between his eyebrows, and his forehead. your fingers curl in his platinum blonde hair, angling his head by pulling it lightly just because you know how much he likes the feeling on his scalp. your face gets closer to his lips but you don't kiss him. not yet, not until he says something.

"you should know better than teasing me like this, pretty girl. what should i offer you to kiss me, hmm?"

you hum, happy with the words he chooses. "how about a massage? yeah, i think i can do with that."

"kiss me, and i'll give you a massage for as long as you want. my pretty baby, just kiss me."

[nolesserhuman]

be nice to me.

sicktember prompt 7: borrowed hoodie. PM Dazai + reader ~2400 words warnings: none also on ao3.

“—I’m cold.”

“Yeah, ‘s what happens when there’s no meat on your bones.” Even though you scoff at Dazai’s complaint, you’re already on your feet and padding towards the linen closet in the hallway. There’s a few old blankets folded and stacked on the shelves. You don’t put too much thought into which one you grab; maybe you should have, because when you drape it over Dazai’s sprawled-out form, he whines again.

“Don’t you have anything warmer?” He pouts up at you even as he pulls the threadbare throw up to his chin. His unbandaged eye is glassy; he’s already gaunt, but now he seems breakable; even with his new blanket, Dazai is still visibly trembling.

If you think about it, you should probably be glad he showed up on your couch instead of hiding away in his damned shipping container. This is about as close as you’ll ever get to him admitting he needs some kind of help.

Dazai lets out a dry cough, rolling over on the couch so he can press his face into the plush cushions. That does nothing to hide his sniffles. You roll your eyes and reach over to pluck at his shirt, damp with sweat. “Stop contaminating my sofa, you bastard.”

“‘M gonna go contaminate your bed next.”

You just roll your eyes again.

Dazai doesn’t move when you prop yourself on the arm of the couch, just above his messy head. He knows what’s next— he feels your hand dip into his damp curls and, embarrassingly, he leans into the touch. Your palm is cool against his burning scalp. He could finally fall asleep like this.

Unfortunately— predictably— good luck doesn’t surface this time. Your concerned hum breaks through the fragile drowsiness that had begun to settle over him. “You’re warm,” you say quietly. Dazai would argue that— he is shivering, after all. Before he can snark back at you, though, his breath catches in his lungs, and he curls in on himself in another coughing fit. Misery hits all at once; he can’t breathe, he can taste sick in the back of his throat, and he’s both freezing and overheating as his protective layer of bandages irritates his skin.

You make a vague noise of sympathy and pat his heaving back until he can breathe again. “—I think some steam would help with that.” You tug on the brunet strands at the base of his neck until he groans.

“Too much effort,” he rasps. And then he sneezes hard enough that his head bounces off the back of your couch. “Shit.”

“C’mon now,” your voice gets firm. “If you can’t walk, I’ll carry you. Entire way there.”

That threat is enough to send an unfamiliar pulse up Dazai’s spine; he’s not sure if it’s pleasant or uncomfortable, but he doesn’t care enough to analyze his own feelings right now, not when it feels like his head is stuffed full of cotton. Instead, he lets out another long whine— like a puppy that doesn’t want to go for its walk— but hauls himself upright anyways.

It takes some struggling, some wrangling; despite his height advantage, Dazai is stick thin and incredibly easy to manhandle once you actually get your hands on him. Eventually you get him to fold his gangly legs underneath himself and sit on the bathroom floor. Even as you’re turning the shower on, he’s clearing his throat and trying to stifle another coughing fit.

As soon as the hot water is on, the entire bathroom begins to heat up, and Dazai visibly relaxes, the shivers finally vanishing. He lets out another weak cough as the gunk in his chest starts to loosen up.

“Now,” you fix him with a firm stare as he tries to get comfortable on the tile floor. “I’d better not turn around and find you digging through my bedroom or somethin’, okay?”

Dazai rolls his eyes and scoffs. “As if you own anything interesting to begin with.” Still, he’s not in the headspace to argue the way he would on a normal day; his head is fuzzy, and the gathering moisture in the bathroom is already dampening his gauze wraps. He’s the very picture of a wet kitten.

You close the bathroom door behind you and Dazai is left alone with his thoughts.

Not needing to keep up a facade once he’s out of eyesight, Dazai scrambles over to the shower, half-hanging over the edge of the tub as he hacks up a wave of gunk. He doesn't care that the shower water is soaking his hair and clothes as long as it washes away the slime leaving his lungs. It looks gross, it tastes gross, and Dazai is sure your neighbors in the next unit have a very low opinion of him right now— but, after a few long moments, airflow comes easier. He’s finally able to take a few deep, shuddering breaths that fill his aching lungs with more steam and warm him from the inside.

Now that he’s breathing again, Dazai’s self-awareness kicks back in. Wet hair he can deal with, but feeling the warm droplets roll down his neck and soak into his shirt, his damp bandages curling and itching against his sensitive skin? Too much too much.

You’re alone in here, Dazai reminds himself. One of his hands absently fidgets with the buttons on his wet dress shirt, delicate fingers tapping against the smooth plastic. It’s okay, it’s okay— you’re alone.

With one more deep breath, Dazai peels his wet clothes off all at once. He shudders, not because of the temperature change that hits his skin, but because all his shields are down. Vulnerability is worse than sickness.

The steam in the room has Dazai’s sinuses draining as he works; he swipes his bandaged wrist under his dripping nose only to immediately sniffle again. In the back of his mind, he can already hear you fussing about how outright gross that was. It’s always nice when his typical inner monologue is replaced by your voice.

His gauze seems almost like a moisture magnet, because even the strips that didn’t get caught in the shower stream are sopping wet and heavy. That makes it a bit harder to unravel his defenses, but eventually Dazai is standing alone and fully bared. Thank whatever god that the mirror is already fogged— he’s not sure he could handle the full image of his own body, gaunt and frail, coming apart at the seams. It’s too much.

There’s gauze in the towel closet. He’s seen it on the second shelf, next to your oft-used first aid kit he’s come to know so well. When he gets his hands on the packaging, Dazai is pleasantly surprised to see you’ve stocked up on his preferred brand, the only one that doesn’t irritate his raw skin. Probably just coincidence.

Dazai is well-practiced in the delicate art of wrapping himself back up; even with no suspiciously-fresh wounds, it often feels like the strips of cotton are the only thing holding his fragile body together. Once he’s nice and snug in his second skin— and boxers, for the modesty he pretends he doesn’t have— Dazai cracks the bathroom door open and peers out into the hallway.

After being stuck in such a warm room, the air conditioning feels nice against his flushed face. You’re nowhere in sight and, judging by the sounds of clattering metal down the hallway, it seems you’re probably engrossed in putting a meal together. Meaning you’re very distracted. Perfect.

Dazai leaves the shower water running so you don’t suspect anything as he darts across the hall and into your bedroom. He shivers again as he nudges the door closed behind him— the breeze of movement against his damp skin had only been nice for a moment before getting too cold again. As long as he’s in this body, he thinks he’ll be miserable.

There’s probably not too much time before you abandon your chore to come check on Dazai, meaning he’s limited on how much snooping he can accomplish before he’s caught. Still, your bedroom is so full of your presence, even when empty, and he can’t help but try and commit it to memory; the patterns on your bedsheets, the titles on your bookshelves, the pictures on the wall. It vaguely crosses his mind that he should add his own photo to the mix sometime and see how long it takes before you notice. 

No time for that now, though. Dazai makes a beeline for your closet and tosses the door open.

When he thinks about it, your choice in casual clothes amuses him— the Port Mafia does have a semblance of dress code, so most of the shirts hanging here are things he’s never seen you wear. His hand drags across the various fabrics, enjoying some textures, jolting away from others. Ah, if only there wasn’t such a size difference between you both— he’d love to slip into one of the frillier shirts, just to see your reaction.

And finally his delicate fingers brush against an item he recognizes. It’s that oversized hoodie you’ve worn to the office more than once— the only item in your closet that he’s sure will fit his frame as well.

Fitting his broad shoulders is the main reason he’d been hoping to find that particular hoodie, but Dazai is still mildly surprised at how easily he’s able to slip it on, immediately enveloped in a sense of comfort he’s not sure he’s ever experienced. While it’s huge on you, it’s only a bit big on him; the hemline falls just past his hips, the sleeves almost long enough to cover his hands, and the whole thing is practically drenched in that perfume you’re always wearing. Dazai brings the fleecy fabric up to his nose and inhales deeply— in this borrowed hoodie and with his head clear for the first time all day, Dazai finally feels some level of okay.

There’s no time to stand around, though. If he lets the shower water run too much longer, you’ll demand he pay this month’s bill.

Dazai sneaks back into the hallway, making sure neither door slams shut as to not alert you to his wandering. With the hot water having run for so long, the tiny bathroom is nearly stifling, and he can immediately feel sweat beading at his hairline as he shuts the shower off. His clothes are still sitting abandoned on the bath mat, and he’d only bothered to kick the bandage wrappings in the general direction of the trash— meh, he’s sure you’ll make him pick it all up later.

There’s no real reason to creep down the hallway this time— you’re well aware that Dazai is in your apartment, after all, so he has no real reason to sneak around. Still, he finds himself toe-walking to keep his footsteps light as he passes the kitchen where you’re still banging things around as you cook.

Your back is to the door, so you definitely don’t see him as he tries to sneak past, but you seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to Dazai. “Are you feeling any better? Haven’t heard any coughing.”

At that Dazai forces out a light cough, not even able to make it sound bad now that his airway has cleared. “I think it’s terminal.”

“Mmm, too bad,” you hum without looking away from the stovetop. “Go lay back down an’ try not to die on my couch, okay?”

You hear Daza scamper away, no longer trying to hide his footsteps, and something prickles at the base of your neck. It’s suspicious when Dazai doesn’t argue.

Knowing your boss, Dazai probably hasn’t eaten in at least a day, possibly longer if his illness has smothered his already-rare appetite. Getting him to eat is hard enough on a normal day. Lifting the frypan off the burner, you slide the sandwich onto a plate before fishing cookie cutters out of a drawer. Chop the sandwich into cute shapes, spoon some tomato soup into a patterned bowl— it’s like you’re trying to entertain a toddler into eating their veggies.

“You’d better take at least a few bites,” you order as you carry the food into the living room. “I went through all the effort of a gourmet grilled cheese—” your voice falls off as you peer over the back of the couch, only to be greeted by Dazai wearing something that definitely doesn’t belong to him. That’s one of your favorite hoodies; it’s a bit surprising it fits him. “—where did you get that?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dazai hums, stretching out so his long legs hang over the far end of the couch. He makes a show of pulling the hood up until it covers his eyes. “It suits me, no?”

You just sigh. When you nudge him, he grumbles, but wordlessly makes room for you to join him on the sofa. As soon as you’re settled, he drops his head in your lap to use your warm thighs as a pillow. “You coulda just asked, y’know. Instead of sneaking around. I would’ve let you wear it anyways.”

The tone of your voice is different now. Dazai tilts his head back to read your face. “—you don’t mind?” He can’t quite get a read on you when you’re toeing the line of being too nice.

“Just eat your damned food,” you blatantly avoid the question by shoving the plate of warm food into his hands.

Dazai wriggles with a dramatic “noooo!” only for his whining to stop when you shove one of the sandwich bites into his open mouth. He pouts but doesn’t spit it out.

Your hand comes down to tug the hood back off his head, just far enough for you to slip your fingers back into his hair, and Dazai once again leans into your touch as he reaches for another bite of food. Even when he’s difficult, you stay gentle with him.

Dazai is only able to eat a little bit before his sensitive stomach begins to complain and he turns his face away. For once, he’s nice and full; the borrowed hoodie is deliciously warm, the itch to cough has vanished, and your hand in his hair is hypnotic. For the first time in a long time, Osamu Dazai manages to drift off into a pleasant sleep.

aaaaaaa I've never done sicktember before on any account and I know I literally had a death in the family but I'm irked that I wasn't able to finish much during the actual month,, I know the whole point is just to have fun but I'm only just now beginning to try and get over my perfectionism and stuff fghjhgfd

idk if anyone will read these so ig I'll just talk a lil bit. but man I started writing really young, and after college I feel like my writing got super messed up in comparison to how it used to be, so I'm really doing my best to try and get back to something I'm happy with. I've never written anything besides reader inserts!! I've also never ever finished a piece that had more than one chapter, even though I've been doing this for over a decade dfghjnhgfd. I want to start practicing other stuff!! but reader inserts are fun bc I wanna kiss the anime boys lmao

anyways!! I think I'm gonna keep trying to finish all my planned prompts even though we will definitely be rolling into at least october, possibly longer. and if I may be so bold, likes/comments/reblogs are all appreciated dfghgfd. if you read all this, thank you!!

[tuliptired]

hello! I don’t want to bother you but could you possibly right about old man Egon Spengler x fem reader?

Empty Pocket Waltz

Pairing: Old man!Egon Spengler/Fem!Reader

Not a bother at all! Firm believer that some pussy would've saved him

Better formatting on Ao3!!

You’ve been living in Summerville, Oklahoma for at least the last handful of decades. It was a cold and windy night when you loaded Callie into the backseat, before you and Egon left your lives in New York to save the world, supposedly. After starting from scratch in a gilded age farmhouse, sending a child off to college, meeting her children- it felt like more of a family dinner. Nevertheless, you were happy. And, despite the threat of constant doomsday for years on end, Egon seemed at a weird sort of peace. Every morning you wake up, you wonder what your future would’ve been like, if your daughter didn’t cry out in the middle of that argument. If he had never gone to hold her, and realize that this was a matter of your little family, as well as the planet.

That was then, in the confines of your miniscule apartment, paint peeling off the walls and water endlessly dripping out your taps. You took a long breath in, grateful for the abundance of fragrant house flora you had managed to keep alive. It was just you and the rolling farmland this morning, a silent little symphony as the sun beat down on your face. Not even the pan below you dared to make any noise.

Your moment alone was cut short by the gentle running of water, and later the creak of the floorboards that made up the steps. Egon had become a better sleeper in time. He used to insist on going in late, getting up early, taking care of Callie before you’d managed to open your eyes. But his old habits came crashing down after a while of falling asleep to gentle wind chimes, chirping crickets, pittering rain. And you found it adorable- his messy hair and soft pajamas seeing you off to your job in town every morning.

You felt a warm body at your side as you finished making breakfast. “Did you sleep well?” you asked, the question as familiar as he was. Egon didn’t answer, leaning his head on your shoulder while you carefully poured him coffee, one cream and four artificial sugars. Time may have altered his disposition, but never his tastes.

“Well,” you started, plating pancakes after he trudged over to the table, “I hope you eat as well as you sleep. We have a big day today.” you spoke excitedly.

Egon woke up a bit after a sip from his old and worn out mug. He puzzled over your proclamation, brow furrowed a bit. “We do?” he wondered, growing nervous in wake of your bright smile.

“Pruning day!” you announced, wrapping your arms around his neck from the back as he let out a soft groan. “And you’re gonna help out, because you promised your poor old wife with bad knees that you’d get it done. And because you love her.”

“Yes. And because I love her,” he said dryly.

You heard him sigh as you loosened your embrace around his shoulders. “The flowers aggravate my allergies and dirt gets stained into my clothes,” He paused. “Get me the shears from the mudroom, please?” A happy noise escaped you then before you buried your head into his hair. “Thank you, Egon.” Geez, did he always have this much hair? You could feel the white locks tickling your own scalp. “Ouf. Next item on the to-do list is a haircut.”

 Egon had been out there for some time when you emerged with a glass of lemonade. Watching your husband do physical labor under the sun was a fairly indulgent source of entertainment- but there’s just something about a man tending to a garden on his hands and knees that made your day a bit brighter.

“Since you’re working so hard,” you offered him the cup, a painted little thing that Callie had made in school, while you sip from your glassware. 

He didn’t seem to mind, shamelessly taking a drink. “Thank you.” He sat back on his haunches then, observing your mini yield. “You’ve got a lot this summer.”

“I know,” you marveled, taking a quick headcount of all your sprouts, shoots, and stalks. “It’s a pensioner’s dream.” 

If your grandson were here, and not up north- he’d undoubtedly be making fun of you both for your stereotypically geriatric source of entertainment. It had taken both you and Egon, the genius, ridiculously long to notice the acres upon acres of farmland at your disposal. Of course, this was after a sizable amount of stressing over what it took to adequately feed a growing child. So, you grew what you could for dinner, garden plot now confined to the side of your house as caring for it became hard.

You took refuge on a worn chair in the shade, legs crossed while your husband bent back down to work. You couldn’t help the pleased sound you made to yourself at the sight of him, pants hitching up to the midsection of his thighs and a bit closer to his skin than other bottoms you’d  seen him don outside. He’d gotten a little fuller over time, but you’d be a liar if you dared to say you minded. 

“Those shorts were a good decision, then?” you mused, low eyes still on his lower half. You nearly missed the look of offense he had as he looked over his shoulder. “Glad you’re bringing them back.”

“I have nothing else. We should put laundry on the list.” Egon stated. 

You rested the glass on your own thigh, condensation providing a little relief from the warmth permeating your spot in the shadows. “You have at least two pairs of sweatpants left. I checked,” you scoffed. You’d known him for so many years that you had no problem decoding his unvarnished nature, even if it was slightly annoyed. You knew he really wasn’t too upset at your ogling, or letting the chore slip your mind. And- he did wordlessly arch a bit further into the bush, a satisfied smile growing on your face.

After all his drudgery was done, you promised you’d find a way to repay him after a second shower. His hulking figure tracking soil around your hallways was enough for you to usher him into the bathroom and stay at the door until you heard the water run. 

He wasn’t very long, and you met back in your now-steamed-washroom to tackle his little salon treatment. “How’d this happen?” you murmured rhetorically, examining Egon from all angles while he dwarfed a stool. He always had refused to use the toilet for anything but its intended purpose, chastising you and your daughter whenever you dared to. In the rare times Callie looked to test his patience- Terrible Twos, she knew that a lesser loved doll or picture book could stand a swim in the porcelain, if it meant getting back at Daddy.

“I thought you liked my hair long?” Egon asked, covered by the fluffy towel you dried his damp hair with.

You brushed it back into its usual place. After a long time of being styled- probably since his final graduation, his hair seemed to compromise, curls finally growing in the way he had manipulated them to. “I do, but that was then,” you worked. “College-Egon was a different guy.”

He sulked a bit. “Elon’s wife lets him wear his hair long.” His uncharacteristic petulance was endearing to you, as you grabbed a pair of hairdressing scissors. These had saved Callie on many different occasions, most notably when you had come home to find her and her father locked inside the destroyed bathroom, trying every remedy in every cupboard and cabinet to remove something viscous and sticky that ended up on her from Egon’s lab. 

“Elon’s wife let him keep a family of foxes. She only put them out when they scuffed her china cabinet.” you laughed lightly, not yet removing anything from his head.

“I won’t take away too much. Just enough to not scratch me.”

He conceded. “You know best.”

“I know.”

You carefully clipped just shy of half an inch from the white that took over what once was brown. You had to admire its refusal to thin out, thick but light pieces littering the tile beneath you. Before he knew you, an old and apparently unkind barber down the street cut his hair. When the price of that looked too high for his parents, his father took up the job, and he wasn’t much of a step up. Once Egon was out on his own, people seldom touched his head, not even after his degrees were finished and he gave it a drastic cut. It always felt nice, being on the giving end of taking care of such a distinctive part of him. One he really never let anyone influence or alter, when given the choice.

A gentle snoring rumbling from him and the slight slump of his head drew you out of your focus when you took a step back to review your work. “You really are old,” you grinned, rousing him awake. You caught your reflections in the mirror. “Good?”

Egon gave you a nod of approval, sitting patiently as you brushed some of the stray white off his shoulders. “Good.”

You examined him once more, still not fully satisfied. Something was off. He still looked great- he always looked great. But you were skipping a step. Egon was nothing if not tolerant, waiting for you to finish your evaluation.

“I know,” you snapped. You didn’t give him much of a further explanation, dipping into the drawers of the sinkside cabinet and emerging with a razor. “Your beard.”

The very tall man nearly scooched off the stool. “I thought you liked it? You’ve never said anything before.”

You glanced down at the shaver in your hand. Shiny and electric- one of the first things you had ordered online, when that was a new thing. “Okay, maybe not these.” you placed them on the counter. “Come on, grandpa. Just a trim.”

You were lucky Egon trusted your judgment. So, you took the scissors and carved him back out, catching short strands with the equally as white towel.

“There you are,” you twinkled, proud of your cosmetology skills. You placed a loving kiss on his cheek, his own smile pulling at the muscle. In your little moment, he convinced you to let him paint your nails in thanks. Your husband. Egon was always handsome, before and after your pampering. But you reveled in the intimacy of routine maintenance with the one you loved.

“Darn it,” you closed the washer-dryer. Halfway through its cycle and it decided to start fussing again. “Egon?” you called, hoping he’d mess around with it again and finish drying your wet clothes.

And mess around he did. He turned knobs, moved pipes, plugged and unplugged things with increasing frustration. This didn’t show much but his stubbornness, but he really was a smart man. With a PhD. But this was one of his few intellectual weaknesses- “smart” appliances. It was one of the more newer things in the old house, an upgrade the handyman (Egon insisted he could fix the old one alone, nearly electrocuting himself before you put your foot down about it) who came from really far out of town to help you out had suggested. But, there was always something going on with it, whether that was your fault or otherwise. There was always a new fix, but not now.

Egon must’ve sensed your worry over the clothes still inside. “We can put these on the line to dry,” he reassured you, using some of his strength to push it forward and inspect whatever went on at its back.

“It’s gonna rain,” you troubled, peering outside at the graying sky. He was in his own, mechanical world, not hearing you as he assessed the faulty thing. 

“Egon?” You wrapped your arms around his middle. 

You could tell his ponderings didn’t stop at your touch. “Yes?”

“I know you can fix the car. And your proton pack. And my hair dryer.” He let out a noise of acknowledgment, which might have had a hint of pride.

“But maybe,” you cringed, “we should just cut our losses and take all this to the laundromat?”

He shot down your idea- because of course that was the wildest suggestion ever presented to him. “Why go all the way out there over something I can fix in an evening?” Egon reasoned.

“You know good and well it’ll take longer than an evening.” You had already started to sort soaked clothes into linen bags. “I’ll be lucky if I catch you leaving this room before the end of the week.”

“Then, by the end of the week you’ll have a working laundry room again.”

You placed one of your sodden delicates in his hands. “Everything’ll mold if we can’t get it to dry. And I won’t let you test any of it. We’re going.”

Egon grumbled, but followed suit, carrying the large bag of laundry to the car for you while you grabbed your mini bag of quarters. It was his silent compliance as he waited for you to buckle up that made you stroke his arm apologetically.

“I appreciate that you’re always trying to help. Remember what you did to Callie’s Furby?”

He nodded fondly. “The first to be able to talk back. She was terrified.”

“Well, she would fish it out the closet when she was mad. I never had to buy her a diary ever again.” you shrugged.

“Do you still like the jets I put in the bathtub?” he turned to you.

“Of course! You just never notice I have them on because you’re in there with me.”

The drive into town always took some time, bumpy dirt roads turning into proper asphalt after a while. Summerville was still a small town, so the laundromat was never as bustling as it could be. But your assumptions were proven wrong, as a dozen or so cars lined the curb. Either everyone’s washer or dryer started acting up, or the water company had a mass shut off.

Egon moved rigidly through the throng of people in the little space. These were the people, and some of their now-grown-children, who stared at him like he was an alien after moving his tiny family to a run down house all the way from Manhattan. You could somewhat understand their intrigue- the most exciting thing to happen around this place seemed to be community matters. But some of their rumors were outright laughable: you were on the run from the police (ironic if you considered how gossipy the town was), Callie was a monster he made in his lab (she played into that one when you went shopping), you were Soviet spies sent for espionage (fairly dangerous, considering the country was coming down from the Cold War and Egon was very visibly the child of two European immigrants). 

But, as years passed and no nukes were dropped and no infectious diseases spread from your daughter in school, Summerville learned you were here to stay. And they started to enjoy your presence, the few times you’d gone into town to run errands and with everything you did at work. You’d even gotten close to a family or two, evident in how a teenage girl sitting on one of the stand alone machines smiled at you.

“Hi, Mr and Mrs. Spengler,” Lucky waved. Her and Trevor had become close friends, at least the few summers he and his sister had spent while visiting. You had thought it wouldn’t stick- on account of the distance and the time it’s been since their last trip down here, but they managed to stay in contact. Very close contact, you’d been told.

“Hi, Lucky,” you returned, “how’s your mom?”

“She’s okay. She sent me here- ‘cause our washer won’t start.” 

“We’re in the same boat, then. Tell her: once ours works again, I’ll send Egon to check yours out, alright?”

Her grin grew, possibly at the sight of your husband's expression. He was used to you volunteering his skills in repair, though. It proved useful, in a town without any real mechanical service. Here, one just prayed they would never break down or lose power. But it was one of the ways you managed to clean up your reputation in time- Egon serving as an electrician, tow truck, or handyman whenever he wasn’t holed up in his makeshift lab. “Will do,” she nodded.

With that, her dad called her, and she was off. Not before complimenting your nails, though. You made quick work of loading your wet clothes, going through the motions. Halfway through, Egon stopped to pull something out of one of his wrinkled pockets.

It was one of your earrings, delicate and near tiny. “You fell asleep with it on.” he handed it to you.

Eventually, your laundry was done. And you didn’t even run through all your quarters. This called for a Coke from the vending machine- only a can, you both needed to watch your sugar.  The drive back was noticeably more jovial, you had clean and dry laundry, Egon had a new project to consume his time. He seemed to have multiple things on his mind, as he opened the passenger door for you.

“They’re calling today,” he said, almost anxiously. Callie had been calling you periodically ever since she went off to Ohio, of all places, for college. She had stopped after you came back from a visit once she had Trevor, and it wasn’t until after his father left that 1. You learned she had a whole other child not long before their split, and 2. He was an awful husband. After that, you made her promise to always check in with you, especially in the long stretches of time when driving up to Chicago just wasn’t an option. Egon’s been on top of her calls ever since, silently eager to see his daughter and his growing grandchildren. 

At some point, you found him in the living room, mulling around with the iPad you were given some time in the early 2010’s in order to actually see the people getting in contact with you. “You got it?” you asked, squeezing into your typical spot next to him.

He nodded, and soon your daughter was on the little screen. “Hey Mom, hey Dad.”

“Hi, Cal!” Egon had only waved, always a tad shy over the phone for the first few minutes. “How’s everything? How’s work?”

She seemed preoccupied with something offscreen. “Raining hard, here. Ceiling started to leak.”

You frowned. It was never fun to hear that your loved ones were struggling, even if they were small grievances like these. “Does your landlord know? It’ll only get worse as it gets warmer.”

“He won’t answer my calls,” she put her hands up, as if she was ridding herself of the problem, “we have buckets, it’s fine.”

“You know what we’re gonna tell you.”

“Do I?”

“Spend the summer here,” you urged, hearing her groan slightly over the phone. “It can’t hurt.”

“I can’t ask that of you guys. Again.” 

You gestured around the large, under-occupied house. “You lived here. You know how much space we have.”

Callie was silent, deep in thought as you continued. “We miss you. The other day I started wondering if Phoebe still needed Pampers.”

She sat back wherever she was sitting. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“It feels like it! When you’re as old as we are, a day feels like a year.”

“Today has been quite a year,” Egon affirms at your side.

You sat forward on the little couch. “Even Dad agrees. He’s too shy to say, but he always wants to ask you for pictures. But he’s scared you’ll find it annoying.” Egon didn’t seem to be embarrassed, wanting to see the rest of his family as much as you did.

Callie spoke up then, eyebrows high. “I’ll send you pictures, Dad. Mom, I’ll…I’ll think about it, ok?” You’d take that, for now. Soon, Trevor appeared, waving at you both. 

You left Egon to have his time with the teenager. From the other room, you got snippets about a car show, some new friends he’d been making, a cut he got from trying to shave his legs- which was a little interesting. You can remember the first time he had held Trevor. The newborn was just happy to be alive, so awake for only being a few hours old. He took interest in everything Egon had to say, eyeing the shiny buttons of his shirt, the reflective frames of his glasses. In the private of the hospital room Callie was fast asleep in, he revealed to you that he was excited to watch a little boy in his family grow up the opposite in which he did: being allowed to play, get dirty, make mistakes.

It wasn’t until Trevor wondered aloud where you were that you peeked your head around the corner. After switching out with Egon, you settled into his warm spot on the sofa, tea in hand.

“Hi, grandma!” 

“Hi, Trevor. I see the leak was in your room.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. We have buckets.”

You smiled at that, chatting about more things- the show you were watching together, a recipe he was demanding you try, drama in school, before you remembered something. “We saw Lucky today. When was the last time you talked?” you gently probed.

Trevor brightened, if not reddened. “Last night. School ends later for us here so,” he swallowed. “But we’ve been able to talk every night.”

Your eyebrows rose. “Everynight’s an improvement.”

He waved you off. “It’s not that big of a deal.” His expression grew far away. “Is it that big of a deal?”

“She’s been asking when you’ll be back. Maybe you won’t miss her birthday this year.”

Trevor sat up straighter, so fast he knocked his knees against the underside of his desk. He didn’t seem to notice, while you winced on the other end of the phone. You asked if he was alright, but he was too deep in his head to notice. “Oh man, really? I got her a gift. Or a couple of gifts. I was gonna send it in the mail.”

You smiled knowingly. “More reasons to come here. Actions speak louder than words.” Trevor looked doubtful, brow creased a bit.

“What if she doesn’t like it? Like: ‘ohhh thank you Trevor, but that’s super weird. I’m getting a car but I can put the stuffed bear in the backseat’.” He must’ve gotten his anxiety from Egon- he sounded exactly like him in the days leading up to you being asked out. Or so Ray tells you.

“No chance. Every girl would like a gift from her boyfriend.” you shook your head.

Trevor looked at least a bit hopeful. “But, we’re not dating-”

“Mom said to let me on.”

You let Egon have a minute with Phoebe. They always had a special connection- there was no need for anyone to say anything because it was so clear. Trevor gave them their space, and you did too, and it was all okay because he’d been your little guy since birth, literally attached to your leg whenever he had the chance to hang out with you. And Phoebe holed up with her grandfather in his makeshift lab, learning and talking about anything they each had to offer. They really were cut from the same cloth, it was only natural. You can remember her delivery, too. The entire day was hard- feverish three year old, busy hospital, unhelpful and soon to be ex husband. Callie had to pretty much bargain for medical attention in the sterile room as her contractions got worse, let alone to get an epidural. Such an angry start in the world. But when she came, she was so peaceful, not even crying when she was brought out into the cold air. Precious is what you regarded it as, weird was the word buzzed around between NICU nurses. 

For the second time, in the dark of a hospital room while Trevor slept in his shirt, Egon barely whispered that, “she’s already different.” You knew exactly what he meant- and it was nowhere near bad. She was like him.

Phoebe’s room was messy as ever, but it was an organized mess. “Hi, grandma,” she greeted.

“Hi, Phebes,” you saw something round and white in her hands, “what’s that?”

She lifted it to the camera, fairly nonchalantly. “Our ac. He switched it off so I’m trying to jailbreak it.” Ah.

“When can we come back?” she added, clearly having thought about visiting a lot more than usual.

“Any time. You just have to convince your mom. Chicago’s getting boring?” 

Her eyebrows twitched once, the way Egon always does. “In the summer. And, if something happens to our house while we’re gone, the landlord’s responsible. Not us.” she explained.

That’s your granddaughter. “Smart girl.” You paused, noticing something different about her but not being able to place it. “Did you…get new frames?”

Phoebe paused in turn, pushing them up. “Are they bad?” she asked, brows knitted slightly. “I didn’t want to change them, but Mom made me.”

You smiled, “They look great. But, uh, what’s the difference?”

“These hinges are silver. The old hinges were nickel.”

That was definitely your granddaughter. Eccentric, in her own, special way.

Soon, Callie needed her phone back. As you all said your goodbyes, something popped into your mind before you reminded Phoebe that you saw Podcast and he wants her to call him back so they can play their game.

Phoebe scowled over her brother’s shoulder. “I’m banned. Tell him we have to find something else.”

Every time your family called, Egon happened to remember that the iPad had a game or two on it, and he was occupied until it was time to chorale him into bed. You waited patiently as he put it to charge, ready to be forgotten about for a while, and nuzzled into his chest when he returned to you. His sleeping clothes were always worn, but they always filled you with the familiar scent of him which you were much too happy never washed out. 

“Did you have fun?” you asked into the fabric of his shirt. Sure, it was a long and hard battle to condition him out of a gown and sleeping cap in the early days of your relationship, but you’d take what he give you.

He hummed in response. “Level 2801 on Candy Crush today.”

“One higher than Winston.” you gazed in the darkness at a familiar spot by the door, cracked ajar. Callie would wait for you both, as soon as she could toddle out of her bed and needed someone with her when she used the bathroom, or to console her after a bad dream. As she got older, it’s where she brought you both coffee on special mornings, and bounced on her heels waiting for approval to take the car. Callie’s spot. Perfectly between both of your pillows, if you drew a straight line, run a little ragged by bare feet, sneakers, and slippers. “What else?”

“Peter took something from my farm, so I put him and his dogs underground.”

You shut your eyes, though still enjoying your sleepy conversation. “That’s not very good conflict resolution.” He was quiet, and you assumed he had dozed off, you in his arms, until there was a tugging at your earlobe.

“What?”

“Earrings.”

“Thank you, Egon.” Your old man. This was a much smaller life than Times Square, Central Park, Ghostbusters. But it was your small life, with your larger-than-life husband, and you really wouldn’t have it any other way.

[mono-dot-jpeg]

tucking you in - himeko, kafka

summary; just some sweet platonic fluff with the aunts

genre/extra tags; scenarios, fluff, family fic, idk what else to say like, it's cute fluffy and sweet, child! reader, kafka and himeko are referred to as aunts

[platonic] [5-6 yrs old! reader] [gender neutral reader]

a/n; not much to say about this one tbh. just enjoy some fluff. also kafka's scenario is based off my memories with my mom when i was stuck at family parties late at night with her.

"now, now. your exploring must come to an end, little star." she hummed. you feel yourself getting picked up by himeko, soon turning you to rest your head on her shoulder.

"i don't wanna sleep though. why can't i stay up a little longer?" you moved your head to press your cheek on her shoulder and face her a bit better. "you can't even tell it's like night time here! we live in space!" you pointed at the windows of the express, clearly seeing the glittering stars and void of space.

"mm, yes i know, but even the brightest stars need to rest." she pokes your side, making you giggle. "if they burn too long, they get tired-" you yawn. "just like you."

"mhn.. but..."

"but?"

"but i'm not-" you try to hold back a yawn but fail, "tired."

"of course, of course. we're just going to grab your favorite book to read, and we're gonna lay down, get all comfy.." her soothing voice almost sings like a lullaby as she speaks softly through the halls of the passenger rooms. as you pass by each room, you can hear different sounds.

dan heng's room is humming like a quiet engine from the data library, march is still humming a little tune while she gets ready for bed, trailblazer is shuffling around organizing their room as they settle in, it's an interesting sensation of comfort when you sleep knowing that you have family right by your side. and welt's room is the most quiet of them all, you've never really been in his room but you know it has a lot of "old people things" as you once said.

"we're here." she sang quietly as she opened the door. it was currently a shared room for you and himeko. "you want to stay by my side tonight?" you nodded sleepily. you get ready for bed, though himeko is mostly helping you as your body is limp from how tired you are. "my tired little star.. look at you." she coos, cupping your cheek just squishing it for a moment.

before you know it, you're carried by himeko once again and your head hits the pillow, luring you into a deep sleep next to your aunt.

kafka... was a busy woman. you knew that, everyone knew that. she was just busy.

but that never meant that she never had time for you.

actually more often than not, she would be taking you around when she can. it was really endearing. blade wasn't amused, but she didn't care. and you didn't care either.

but also kafka's encounters and adventures.. were kind of boring. you were there to at least make it tolerable for her. but then you got bored too. and with being bored came being tired.

tonight was slightly less boring night, it was a meeting though so how less boring could it really be. could you even call it a meeting when they're all playing cards? they were still discussing big kid stuff from what you could hear. you didn't understand much of what they were saying. everyone was sat on the floor with a comfortable mat to sit on. your head rested on kafka's thigh as you zone out from the conversation.

you feel your hair get played with. kafka's free hand threads through your hair gently tugging out knots and scratching your scalp just a little bit. "you can sleep if you want, kid. we're gonna be here for a while." she mutters to you.

it takes you a while to fall asleep but hearing the chatter of blade, kafka, and silver wolf has you feeling tired quick. and you fall asleep.

"do we have a blanket?" kafka asks the others. "blade-y? can you grab one from the kid? you're losing anyways, so might as well." she snickers quietly. he obliges, tossing the blanket to her. she catches it, laying the blanket over you. "maybe get a pillow too?" blade gives her a look.

"no."

"you never think of the child, blade."

"i don't care about the child."

"don't ever talk to me or my kid ever again."

[natsuphoria]

hello my little friend :) i'll start nice. can i request some fluff with alkaloid? platonic or romantic, up to you <3

hello gayass :) i hope you read these and explode (affectionate) :3 i would say these lean towards romantic but aira’s and mayoi’s could be seen as platonic <3

alkaloid + fluff

reader : gender neutral, no pronouns used, reader bakes in tatsumi's scenario type : scenarios warnings : none word count : 1024... yeah i kinda got carried away

a pleasant shiver runs from the back of your head to the base of your spine as you rouse from your slumber. you yawn softly, nuzzling into the warmth pressed against your cheek, and stilling in surprise when the warmth hugs you back. 

“you’re awake?” you feel the rumble of hiiro’s voice in his chest before you hear it. you make a noncommittal sound – not really saying something or the other, just letting him know you’re awake – and readjust your head, your ear pressed to his chest. hiiro hums and moves a hand to your shoulder, squeezing softly. the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. 

the strong, steady thump of his heart makes you smile, and you close your eyes in an attempt to hear it better. “are you trying to fall asleep again?” hiiro asks, an audible smile in the lilt of his voice. your answering silence has him chuckling, and strong arms pull you to a sitting position beside him. “it’s a new day! you can’t go back to sleep now – we’ve got so much to do!” the sweet smile hiiro gives you makes something burst in your chest, filling it with warmth. maybe waking up isn’t so bad if you get to see that smile. 

maybe waking up isn’t so bad if he’ll be here with you again as you drift off tonight. aira, mayoi and tatsumi below the cut!

“waa~ that was so cool!” you can practically see the sparkles around aira as he wears a content, closed-eye smile. 

he’d been looking forward to this live for weeks, and gushing about it for even longer. it was held by a fairly new unit – he had rambled to you about it once over lunch – but it had become somewhat of an overnight sensation. the day he had gotten the tickets, aira had come running to you, holding out a ticket and asking with wide eyes if you’d like to go with him. you had accepted, so now here you are, linking arms with the boy as you amble along the pavement.

“did you enjoy it?” 

you don’t think it’s possible for him to look any happier, but your assurance that yes, you did enjoy it very much has him clapping his hands and bouncing in glee. the scene makes something soft blossom in your chest, expanding to fill your ribs and escaping you as an amused laugh. 

“you know, i’m glad you don’t comment much on how much i like idols,” he starts, fiddling with the keychains on his bag. “most people are surprised that an idol likes idols so much, and say some weird things about it. but you just accept it as a part of me, a-and let me talk about them… uh, did i say something wrong?” he blinks at your wide-eyed expression as you try not to burst into tears at his admission. or grab him and shake him like a maraca.

the best you can do is aggressively reassure him that you’ll always listen to him talk about his interests. his resulting laugh has your face lighting up as well. “does that mean you’ll come with me to more lives?”

“wh-what are you doing!?” 

mayoi, after much coaxing, has finally agreed to put his head in your lap. even so, he refuses to put his full weight on you – my sins may be too much for you to bear! – choosing instead to hold himself above you, muscles tensed. you had just ghosted your fingers over his hair when he had gasped, pulling his shoulders up to his ears as if trying to hide in his shell. 

i’m playing with your hair, you say matter-of-factly, and he whimpers at the thought of your hand on his scalp. “you can’t!” he protests weakly. “i – you’ll be tainted!” 

by what, mayoi, you ask, before switching tactics. you assure him that it’s alright, that you want to do this. nothing’s gonna happen to you. nothing’s gonna happen to anyone. your determination is rewarded when he eventually relents, his face hidden in his hands as you undo the ribbon holding his braid. 

the first contact of your fingertips against his scalp sends a shudder down his spine, a soft sob escaping him. you smile softly as you continue your ministrations, carding your fingers through his long strands. you admire how well-maintained his hair is… the colour, the texture... and before you know it, he’s completely relaxed, fully resting his head in your lap.

he sighs contentedly, almost nuzzling his head into your hand like a cat. soon enough, his breathing evens out and you know he’s fallen asleep. be sure to savour every moment now – you’d want to be able to assure him that this was nice when he wakes up apologetic, right? 

you feel a warm pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. the sudden contact makes you stiffen a little, but the gentle press of tatsumi’s lips against your cheek has you almost melting in his arms. 

“they look delicious," he says, referring to the sheet of cookies you're about to put in the oven. you laugh – that's uncooked dough, tatsumi, you'll get sick – and he chuckles in response. "my point still stands," he remarks. "i can hardly wait until they're ready to eat."

you feel tatsumi's soft gaze on you as you place the tray in the oven. growing flustered, you buy time by fussing over the temperature, hoping that he'll look away...

...which does not work. when you stand up and turn to face him, tatsumi's right in front of you, his smile so filled with adoration that it makes something twist in your chest. he takes your hands in his, and you slowly begin to dance to a silent song – a song composed just for the two of you, heard only by the two of you.

the aroma of your baked goods wafts through the air. you let out a flustered laugh and for a second he feels as if he’s reverted to a grinning, blushing, lovestruck boy. the lights in the kitchen are far from flattering, but to tatsumi? he swears you have never looked more beautiful than in this moment, right between his arms.

tags : @tokusaatsus @avigenshin @sleepypengwin @cxffeelings

wanna be added to my taglist?

[verybadatwriting]

Hair (Buzzed Version)

Summary: Reader learns how to express themself through their hair. Part of my Healer series.

Warnings: Bad memories

Notes:The Medium/Long Hair version is here.

Gn!reader

Word count: 671

The knotted lump on the back of your head always bothered you, but caring for it… You couldn’t even start to tackle that. You’d tried in the shower one night, you started to shampoo it, but the feeling of hands on your head brought back horrible memories of your time in HYDRA. Now you were stuck in a limbo of sorts, and the lump of hair just grew and grew.

You lay in bed one night, again thinking about your hair, which inevitably led you to the memories. For most of your time in HYDRA, your hair was much like it is now, hopelessly knotted. Very occasionally –the night before one of the top brass paid the prison a visit– you would be dragged out of your cell and they’d tug a comb through your hair for hours and slather it in products until it was deemed acceptable. 

The smell of those hair care products made you want to throw up, even now their smell was burned into your memory. You sat up and glanced at the clock. 

3:14 am.

If you did not fall asleep soon, you would get no sleep tonight. 

You slipped out of bed, and walked aimlessly around your room. You passed your arts and crafts drawer, and suddenly knew what to do. Reaching inside, you pulled out a pair of safely scissors. You went to the bathroom, stared in the mirror, and started chopping off chunks of hair. They fell at your feet, and you smiled. 

The weight from years of control fell away, leaving your scalp gloriously free. Your breath flowed evenly, and the memories of HYDRA faded ever so slightly. After you scooped up the hair and deposited it in the trash can, you slid back into bed and drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke, you had a smile on your face, remembering that last night you had freed yourself from another way HYDRA had controlled you. You skipped downstairs to grab some breakfast, and ran into Nat on your way. 

“Morning, Y/n.” She said, barely glancing up from a report she was reading. “You slept late, I was beginning to think I’d have to go wake you up.” She paused, then smiled as she took another look at you.

“You missed a spot.” She motioned to the back of your head.

“Yeah, well, I only had one mirror and I did this at, like, three AM.” You smiled, “D’you like it?”

“Yeah,” She said. Then – even though it should have been completely obvious that you loved your new hairstyle– she asked, “Do you?” 

“Yes!” You enthusiastically said, “But you’re right, I did miss a few spots. I was wondering if you could maybe help me fix it up today? After I eat breakfast, of course, and only if you have the time.”

“I’d love to,” She said, “If you want, we could make it an outing. Go to a hair salon, grab some food, too.”

“That sounds fun,” You said, “But I’d prefer if the only people changing my hair are those that I know.”

Natasha nodded in understanding. 

Later that day, the two of you were sat in the bathroom, laughing and listening to music. You had to turn the volume all the way up to be heard over the sound of the buzzing clippers in Natasha’s hands.

“Stop wiggling!” She laughed.

“I’m not wiggling.” You claimed.

“Yes you are!”

“No, I’m dancing to the music.” 

“Whatever it is you’re doing, I suggest you cut it out.” She laughed, “I’m gonna end up nicking your ear!”

You sat as still as you possibly could, but it seemed that every song was better than the last, so you ended up dancing quite a bit.

Finally, Nat set the clippers down, and held up a mirror behind you, so you could see the final product. The hair was cut so short that when you ran your hand through it, it felt like tiny bristles poking your skin.

“I love it.” You smiled.

[galacticgraffiti]

✿ Baati’gar ✿

Wordcount: ~800

Rating: Teen and up

Warnings: slightly ill!reader, Wolffe taking care of you, some mildly lewd comments and innuendos, mostly just so much fluff

I am dedicating this ficlet to my beloved @pinkiemme who deserves the world and so much more. Love you babes 🥺❤️‍🔥

.•°°•. ✿ .•°°•.✿ .•°°•.✿ .•°°•.

Wolffe’s nose nudges yours.

“You awake, pretty girl?”

“No,” you groan and pull the blanket up. “Everything hurts.”

Wolffe grunts, placing one hand on your forehead.

“You’re hot,” he states. You snort and let the blanket sink down a bit to wiggle your eyebrows.

“Aren’t I always?”

Wolffe rolls his eyes.

“No joking about you being sick, you won’t distract me. You caught something.”

You roll to your side, groaning quietly when your aching joints refuse to cooperate. Wolffe’s large hands settle on your shoulders.

“Nuh-uh, you stay right where you are,” he commands.

“Yes Sir,” you mumble, earning an exasperated sigh from Wolffe. You chuckle quietly, then suppress a hiss when your head starts pounding. Wolffe, of course, hears you anyways.

“What is it, cyar’ika?” His face is carved in stone, but the worry in his voice impossible to overhear if you know him.

“My head hurts,” you murmur. Wolffe nods matter-of-factly, and swings his legs off the bed.

“Stay right there, sweetheart. I’m gonna take care of you.”

You try to protest weakly, but there is no force behind you words.

“I won’t hear it,” Wolffe calls over his shoulder as he rummages through the medkit in the fresher. “You’re sick, cyar’ika. You deserve to be taken care of.”

“‘s not your job,” you grumble, pressing your thumbs into your eye sockets to stop your head from pounding so hard you can barely breathe.

“Not my job, no,” Wolffe murmur. You flinch, you didn’t hear him come up to your side. A cold pack is placed on your forehead and you sigh in relief. Wolffe clicks his tongue. “Not my job. But my responsibility, sweetheart. And I want it to be. Let me take care of you.”

His voice is unexpectedly soft, and when you open your eyes to look up at him, you melt at the expression on his face. Instead of protesting more, you simply hum, and close your eyes again. Wolffe feeds you some bacta, and laughs at the faces you make at the stale taste. He makes tea for you, feeds you some porridge, he lets you lay on him with your head in his lap and gently massages your scalp until your headache is gone entirely.

You sigh and relax into him, falling asleep more than once. When you wake up, he is always still there, quietly holding you.

The day passes like this, quiet and content. You watch holo vids together, although you sleep through half of them. Wolffe makes broth - an excellent choice since it is the only thing he has the skills to cook - and lets you sleep and sleep and sleep. You fall asleep to his voice quietly humming a faint melody, a song you have never heard before but that bears the universal comfort of a lullaby in its tune.

When you truly wake up for the first time, it is already dark outside, Wolffe asleep beside you with a datapad on his chest. You pull yourself up to kiss his cheek, and he stirs under your touch.

“You feeling better, sweet girl?” His voice is rough with sleep. You smile softly at him.

“Mhm, all better. Thanks to you,” you kiss his cheek again. “My hero.”

Wolffe grumbles something under his breath, but you swear you can feel the flush in his cheeks against yours.

“I feel disgusting,” you complain eventually. “I’m gonna take a bath, I think.”

“Hmm,” Wolffe hums, his hand slipping around your waist and squeezing gently. “Want me to come with you?”

“What exactly are you implying, Commander?” you smirk at the insinuation. Wolffe’s hands slip down and down, pinching your thigh before settling on the swell of your ass.

“I’m implying whatever you feel up for, pretty girl. Let’s not overdo it, though. I’ll get into the tub with you if that’s… something you want.”

“Hm-hm,” you sigh. “That sounds perfect.”

“Good.” Wolffe groans when he gets up, but shushes you when you inquire concernedly. “My leg fell asleep is all. Come on, sweetheart.”

Strong arms wrap around you and lift you up bridal style. Wolffe carries you to the fresher, letting you cling to him until the tub is filled up. You moan when you slip into the warm water, and smile up at him, tugging at his hand.

“Come on in, baby.”

Wolffe snorts at the pet name, but he holds his tongue, quickly divesting himself and sliding into the tub behind you. Thick thighs wrap around you as he sighs in deep contentment.

“Thank you,” you whisper into the quiet room. Wolffe pressed his lips into your hair.

“Ba’gedet’ye, ner kar’ta.”

.•°°•. ✿ .•°°•.✿ .•°°•.✿ .•°°•.

Baati’gar - (roughly) Caring for you

Ba’gedet’ye, ner kar’ta - You are welcome, sweetheart.

Taggies for some moots 🥰

@baba-fett @cyarbika @thebitchformerlyknownaskenobi @twistedstitcher27 @rexxdjarin @rain-on-kamino @purgetrooperfox @rowansparrow @maybege @fett-djarin @ashotofspotchka @thefact0rygirl @rescuethewretched @clonecyare @tenderclio @maygalodon @spaceydragons @equalityforcats @solidago-sempervirens @rexscyarika @damerondala @shadesofshatteredblue @nahoney22 @ulchabhangorm

[skinnywalker]

🍑 Suburban mom 🍑 ~NSFW

(karen wheeler x male reader)

Hawkins was so small. Sometimes Y/n felt like he could never escape the judging eyes of bored middle mothers desperate for some change to they're lives. To them he was a living, breathing romance cover model. A thing to list after. It was draining to be honest. The only reason he had moved to Hawkins was to give C/n a better life. I mean, Hawkins was known for being boringly safe.

It's didn't help he often had to worked in smaller, sleeveless shirts with the midwest heat.

Going to the pool was even worse.

Y/n learned quickly that Hawkins mothers gathered in much public places to 'people watch'. Every Saturday they formed a line of chair and stared at the lifeguards like zoo animals.

Y/n had no issues with keeping his distance from the gang of gawking housewives until C/n started to make friends with a certain group of kids. With him now stuck in the midst of hopper, joyce and a irritating earbuzz named Murray, having the calm and sweet present of Karen was a blessing.

Y/n knew he was catching feelings, I mean how couldn't he! She was so caring and warm and just the thought of her made his chest ache. It was an open secret she didn't love Ted. Not that he blamed her for staying, Hawkins wasn't the most loving place for a single mom. So he was surprised when she asked him to come over. Alone.

Holding an store bought berry pie, Y/n stood shifting awkwardly on the Wheeler's doorstep. He didn't know why he had agreed to dinner. For all he could tell Ted despised him. Giving the most passive form of a 'fuck you'. So the fact that he had been let into their house with a warm embrace was odd to say the least.

"I'm so glad you could come Mr. L/n"

"Please you can call me Y/n"

Karen's eyes fluttered up and down Y/n's chest, her lips ghosting into a grin.

"I'll show you where to put the food"

The two made idle small talk working over the dinner table chatting about anything that came to mind, their children, the weather and random gossip. During their whole conversation karen couldn't keep her eyes off him. Eyeing the opening in his button up shirt that showed off his chest.

"Thank you again for helping me set up dinner Y/n. It really is a blessing have a neighbor like you."

Karen smoothed out her floral dress. It hugged her curves so well Y/n had a light pink on his cheeks during the set up.

"Really I wish there was a way I could repay you" she cooed, pressing her half exposed chest against his. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Oh well its r-really nothing-"

"No I insist. You're really such a gentleman. Taking care of me and completing me. Giving me that teasing smirk"

Karen pulled her up her skirt and ground down on his thigh.

"Let me show you my gratitude"

She reached up removing her arms from her sleeves and leaving her bra falling on view.

"Ted is asleep on the armchair, the bed is all ours"

"Are you sure about this karen? I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Too bad honey. That's all i want to do"

She nipped the edge of his ear finally awakening him, Y/n then slipped his hands underneath her skirt yanked her free of the dress. He then attacked her neck, sucking and bite hickies where he knew he could cover. In seconds karen became putty in his fingers. He kissed down to her chest and froze before pushing her bra aside and taking her breast into his mouth. Karen moaned and began to hump herself against his hand. Y/n, then bit down, hollowing his cheeks to take her deeper into his mouth.

"Oh God Y/n! I feel like I'm gonna cum already!"

Y/n smiled.

"Good."

He grabbed her thighs and pulled them up to his head. Ripping her panties aside he lefts little kiss bites across the skin.

"Gonna make up for every time he's disappointed you."

Karen bit down on her hand to not scream in pleasure. He sloppily ate her out as if he was starving, running his fingers against her cunt.

Karen could no longer hold back the pressure in her stomach. She gripped his scalpe as the white heat filled her chest. Spots of white clouding her vision.

"God you taste good angel"

Y/n pulled her against his chest.

"Let's just stay like this ok?"

"OK karen. Whatever you want"

She smiled cuddling into his neck as the two fell asleep together.

(Thinking of a part two but idk)

[messers-moony]

My Everything | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: When five marauders goes to two within the instance of a day. Two children are left without fathers and a wife is left without a husband.

Request: Sirius Black x Wife!reader reuniting and she's Remus sister

A/N: My first Harry Potter request. I got so excited to see this in my inbox and I hope it isn’t the last :)

Perhaps it was the feeling of betrayal she felt when he was finally gone. The fact that everything he’d ever said was a lie. She couldn’t help but think maybe his vows were a lie too. The five Marauders were now two. Only two left. How did this even happen? 

The unbreakable group of five. James Potter, the so-called leader of them all. The mom friend who always made sure everyone was okay and cared for. Sirius Black, the second in command. The mischievous, charismatic troublemaker who was always in detention. Peter Pettigrew, the outcast of them all. The shy and naive boy who gave them all a sense of logic. Remus Lupin, the intelligent and solace of them all. The only boy smart enough not to get caught. Y/n Lupin, the creative and sneaky one. The only one who could sneak and out of the Potions cabinet without Slughorn noticing. 

Now it was just the Lupin twins who, as Sirius called them, the “Linking Lupins.” It was hard in the beginning. First-year was difficult. All they had was each other. Lyall hadn’t really been accepting in the first place, but Hope was always blissfully unaware of her son's problem. All she knew was that he had to go away once a month. Lyall cursed himself out every night that Remus went away, cursing himself for letting this happen to his son. 

The cries of his baby girl begging for her brother. The wails of Y/n pleading for Remus not to go away. Not wanting to let go of him, hearing Remus from inside the room in the basement begging to be let out. Sobbing, crying for his mum or his dad to let him out, praying that the wolf doesn’t take over. Whimpering at how much it hurts the way his bones dislocate and relocate back together in a new way. 

So yeah, first year was challenging. But Dumbledore had a safe place for him to go every evening of the full moon, and Y/n would be there when he woke up every time. Remus relished in the way her hands felt in his. They were so soft compared to his calloused ones. So gentle compared to his often rough movements. Small compared to big. She was everything he wasn’t, and he was happy about that. 

James Potter was the first to talk to them with his flamboyant nature. His eyes were the lightest of browns with spotted glittering green. His smile was perfect and straight. How could someone’s smile be that way at the ripe age of eleven? Despite his aura screaming, “I’m the popular kid, and you’re the loser,” he was actually quite nice. 

Upon looking at James, the Lupin twins both thought of trouble. They remembered the popular kids from their muggle school before this one, how they used to belittle Remus for his scars and how Y/n used to push them away. So, forgive them for being a little cautious around him. It didn’t help that James’ counterpart was the opposite of them both. 

Sirius Black, lanky and confident. This boy had no boundaries and absolutely no limits. If he wanted it, he was going to get it. His eyes were the purest iron, and his smile was white like quartz. Hair black as coal and personality as gregarious as the color wheel. His style was toned back, but his character could’ve put the color wheel to shame with how bright he was. Sirius Black could’ve been the antonym to Remus and Y/n Lupin. 

During second year they found another boy who was being beaten by Slytherins for his scarlet and golden robes. He was stocky, and it seems that he was pretty timid. His blond hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes full of fright. Y/n had stepped in front of him just like she had Remus from the bullies back in muggle school. Her wand was held tight in her grip as she stared at them. 

“What are you gonna do, Loony Lupin?” One of them snarled. 

“Aguamenti.” 

The Slytherins were now covered in water. Damp like they had all taken a shower with their clothes on. Their black robes turned a shade darker. The evergreen accents turned olive, and the silver turned into grey. The main Slytherin boy gritted his teeth, and his icy eyes stared into Y/n’s e/c ones. 

“You’ll pay for that.”

Y/n pocketed her wand in her robes, smiling sweetly, “I’m sure I will. Now, run along before I do something worse.”

They didn’t want to obey, but they also didn’t want to stay in that situation. The Slytherins scurried off like dogs following their owner's command. Y/n fixed her hair with her hand and turned around. She was offering her soft hand to the boy who was frozen, shocked, staring at her. Hesitantly he gripped her hand, allowing her to pull him up. She was only slightly shorter than him. 

“Y/n Lupin.” She introduced, “You are?”

“Pe- Peter Pettigrew.”

Y/n bowed playfully, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peter.” 

“Pleasure.” Peter muttered shyly as her group of friends approached. 

Remus swung an arm around her shoulders, “You’re bloody brilliant, you know?”

“Our star.” Sirius swooned jokingly as Y/n punched his shoulder, causing him to pout, “Who’s this?” James queried, looking at Peter, who cowered under the hazel-eyed gaze. 

���Boys,” Y/n smiled brightly, “This is our new member of the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew.”

Peter fiddled with his hands anxiously, “New- New member?”

“Mhm!” Y/n hummed, “You’re our new addition.”

James smiled, “Any friend of Y/n’s is a friend of ours. Welcome, Peter.”

From then it went from four to five. Peter never really stopped thanking them for letting him in. For the first time, Peter felt at home, and it was thanks to Y/n. He realized how kind she was, how creative she was. It was so strange. The group was so different, like extraordinarily diverse, yet they worked together so well. Y/n and Remus seemed to be the brains of things. James and Sirius seemed to be the trouble makers. Peter just did his own thing but always contributed. 

In fifth year Remus started to worry. Everyone was so secretive. They stopped hanging around as much, even his sister. It hurt. It really hurt to see them seeking around on the map that he and Y/n created together for the most part. It wasn’t until during the winter break did Y/n finally realize what they were doing affected them. 

Remus barely cried. Or at least that’s what people made it out to seem. Remus actually cried a decent amount. He was snuggled up in his room. His blanket encasing him, and his arms held around his pillow tightly, gripping it as if it’d leave him like he felt everyone else was. His heart felt broken. Y/n was outside his door, hearing his soft cries, and gently knocked on the door. 

“Rem. Can I come in, please?”

He didn’t say anything, so she just let herself in. The door closed behind her with a click, and she saw her tall brother curled up into the tightest ball with silver streams on his cheeks. Y/n sat in front of him and rubbed the side of his arm. Remus’ eyes continue to release water like a dam that had been broken. He couldn’t swallow it no matter how hard he tried. 

“What’s wrong, Rem?”

Remus didn’t say anything. He just dug his head deeper into the pillow he was holding. Y/n’s hand made its way to his sandy-colored hair. She was scratching at the scalp and smoothing his hair away from his face keeping the strands from getting wet. Her hand hesitantly reached his cheek and wiped away the tears that kept falling. 

She sighed, “Remus, please.”

“You’re- you’re gon’ leave me, aren’ you.” Remus choked. 

“Leave you?” Y/n questioned softly, afraid if she raised her voice any more, it’d make things worse, “I wouldn’t leave you if I was given a chance, Remmy.”

He sniffled, “You- you haven’ been a- around.”

“I know.” Y/n soothed, caressing his cheek, “But there’s an explanation for it. James, Sirius, Peter, and I have been distant. We know that. But there’s a reason for it. You’ll find out soon.”

Remus’ eyes met his sister's warm e/c ones, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.” 

He smiled gently. The corners of his lips barely curled, but she knew it was there. Remus had fallen asleep with his sister's hand in his hair. When she was sure he was sleeping, Y/n left the bedroom, allowing him to sleep peacefully. Then she wrote a letter to James where she knew Sirius was staying too. 

One more week, Y/n thought. One more week of this Mandrake leaf in their mouths until they could be done with this. 

It took another month before it was ready. Before they were ready. They were in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when they started. James started first. When he turned into a stag, they all began laughing. James turned back, pouting. Sirius turned second into a huge black dog. Y/n smiled and petted his head. 

“Very fitting, Sirius.”

Sirius turned back, letting Peter turn next. He was so tiny that Sirius almost stepped on him. James and Y/n sniggered at their rat friend. Next was Y/n, who turned into a graceful cat. Her fur was black, and her eyes were a striking e/c. James smirked and nudged Sirius. 

“Matching animagus’, eh?”

Sirius scowled, “Cats and dogs don’t match.”

Y/n turned back, “Don’t they?”

“Ready for this full moon?” James asked them all. 

“‘Course!”

“Yep!”

“Can’t wait.”

That full moon was better than them all. Remus had people to join him. There was something that he noticed, though. Every time he’d get close to the cat, the dog would growl and stand in front of her. It was like the dog was protecting what was his. Y/n noticed it too. Every time Remus got close, Sirius stood in front of her, keeping him at a safe distance. 

It wasn’t until a quiet night in the Marauders dorm did Remus finally bring it up, “Sirius.”

“Remus.”

“How long?”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “How long what?”

“You know,” Remus moved his hand in a circular motion for him to continue, “How long have you liked my sister?”

“Woah, Remus.” Sirius stated in shock, “That’s quite the accusation.”

Remus tilted his head, “Is it?”

“Yeah. It is.” Sirius replied, “Y/n is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So, you not sleeping with any girls for the past year is just a coincidence?” Remus questioned knowingly, “You staring at her during class and parties is just on accident?”

Sirius’ cheeks went pink, “And it’s definitely a coincidence that you always hug her first after every Quidditch match.”

“Okay, fine, fine.” Sirius confessed, “I like Y/n. I have for a while.”

“So why haven’t you asked her out?”

“Excuse me?”

Remus shrugged, “Why haven’t you asked her out yet? You know she enjoys going to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.”

“Mate, have you forgotten we’re talking about your sister?” Sirius asked, “Like your twin sister?”

“I know.” Remus replied, “She likes you too, you know.”

Sirius’ eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. How in the name of Merlin was Remus so calm about this? He said it so casually as if they were talking about the weather. Sirius expected Remus to get angry or throw a book at him. 

“Are you- Are you giving me permission to date your sister?”

“As long as you don’t hurt her, sure.”

Sirius hesitated before asking his next question, “Can you help me do it?”

Remus smirked, “Casanova of Hogwarts can’t ask out Y/n?”

“Please, Remus.” Sirius begged, “I really like her, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Remus snorted, “You always fuck things up.”

“That’s why I need you!” 

Remus just smirked triumphantly. 

“Pleaaaseeeeeee.”

“Alright, fine.” Remus relented, “Just be cool about it, yeah? Take her to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks. She’d enjoy that a lot. Maybe take her to Tomes and Scrolls.”

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Remus rolled his eyes, “Now shut up. ‘M tired.”

The following day Sirius and Y/n did go to Hogsmeade together. She was amazed when they went into Honeydukes together. She picked out some of her favorite sweets and some for Remus since the full moon was a week away. When she went to pay for it, Sirius pushed her hand away, paying for it himself. Y/n wouldn’t stop thanking him. 

Next, they went to Tomes and Scrolls. On any ordinary occasion, Sirius would’ve hated this. Truth be told, he wasn’t really a reader or a book person in general. But for her, he’d do absolutely anything. Y/n picked out some new books and began raving to Sirius about one in particular. So again, Sirius paid for them and told her to find a table in the Three Broomsticks. 

Sirius went to the area where the book she was raving about was found. He grabbed one for himself, planning to read and annotate it for her. Maybe he’d give it to her as a birthday gift or just a random gift. Nonetheless, he knew she’d love it, and Sirius would fall off a cliff if she asked him to. 

Inside he found her sitting with a hot chocolate and a butterbeer for himself. Sirius slid into the booth smiling at her. They talked about everything and anything. Sirius even went as far as to tell her some stuff about his family the other guys didn’t know about. He went on about how he envied Remus and her relationship wanting the same thing with Regulus. 

Sirius told her how he wanted his future to look. How many tattoos he wanted. Where he wanted to live. How many children he wanted. So on and so forth. He was so open and so honest it surprised her. Generally, if someone asked Sirius what he wanted his future to look at, he’d just shrug. Now he was spilling everything to her. 

It didn’t take long after that for them to become official. Remus smiled when she announced it. He was happy for her. Remus could see how happy Sirius made her, and for that, he was grateful that someone could take care of her in his absence. Y/n only wanted that for him too. One day she’d have a family, and Remus wouldn’t be her main priority. That scared her because, for all seventeen years of her life, it was just her and Remus. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, they got married. It wasn’t anything huge, especially with Voldemort on the rise, but it happened. James was Sirius’ best man, and Marlene was Y/n’s maid of honor. Remus walked Y/n down the aisle and gently kissed her cheek before letting her go. Seeing Sirius and Y/n get married made James overjoyed to marry Lily, but that would happen all in due time. 

So what was it that made her feel this way? Was it the betrayal? Was it the dishonesty? Was it the disloyalty? What was it in truth? The moment Sirius was locked away in Azkaban, everything changed. When Remus heard about it, she was his first stop. Inside he saw her with a baby on her lap. Their baby boy, just a year old. He was born only months before Harry. 

Little Perseus Sirius Black. Y/n’s pride and joy. He was everything to her. Remus had walked into the house seeing his broken sister holding her child close to her as he cried. Remus walked in and gently took the child from her arms, allowing her to lean on his shoulder as he held Perseus. The little boy smiled at the familiar face of his uncle. 

“Rem!” 

Remus smiled softly, “Hey, Perseus.”

It took a long time for Y/n to collect herself. Remus had taken a spot in the house since he couldn’t find a place by himself. Y/n worked at the ministry most days, and Remus would take care of her little troublemaker. As Perseus grew, he looked more and more like his mother. The same e/c eyes and h/c hair. The only thing that made him look like a Black was his defined body and facial structure. 

The sharp jawline, the defined nose, the straight cheekbones, the semi-hollow cheeks, and the pointed chin. His features were that of the Noble House of Black, yet he could’ve made his way to look like a Lupin even more. For a while, Y/n worked a lot. She was trying to keep her family afloat. But it wasn’t until Remus said he got a job offer at Hogwarts did she have to stop. Working for her felt like nothing. Every day she was worried about Perseus going to school. Especially with Sirius being out of Azkaban. 

The night that Remus saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, he knew something was wrong and sent Y/n and owl for her to come to Hogwarts. Without hesitation, she did. On the night of that full moon, she was also down in the Shrieking Shack, holding Harry close to her, not wanting him to get hurt. When everything got resolved, she cried. 

Y/n went home that night rethinking everything. A week later, Remus and Perseus returned home. She couldn’t remember holding Percy that tight ever. Y/n was just thankful that he was safe and he was home. That night that Y/n and Remus told Percy what really happened, why his father was never really in the picture. 

A year later is when Perseus finally met his father - well, that he can remember. He was fifteen now, going into his fifth year at Hogwarts when Y/n and Remus took him to Grimmauld Place 12. It felt foreign, and it felt evil. Needless to say, Percy didn’t like the place. Inside, Sirius was waiting for them along with many others. 

When the door opened and shut gently, he knew it was her. For the first time in over twelve years, he’d be allowed with his wife again. The woman he loved and the woman he felt the most solace with. He’d also see the boy that he used to know grown up into a young adult. The young gentleman Sirius always wanted. 

Perseus stood in front of her, Y/n’s hands on his shoulders. Sirius almost chuckled at it. Percy was protecting her even if she didn’t know it herself. He stood in front of her for a reason, to make sure she’d be safe. Sirius stood in front of them, swallowing harshly. 

“Remus, Y/n.” He choked on the last name.

“Good evening Sirius.” Remus greeted politely, “How have you been?”

Sirius shuffled, “I’ve been better.”

Remus hugged him, whispering in his ear, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Hey, Siri.” Y/n smiled with tears in her eyes, “Hey, love.”

Gently she walked in front of Percy and hugged him tightly. Sirius’ arms went around her waist, and his nose dug into her hair. The scent of her perfume and shampoo calming his nerves slightly. Y/n dug her head into his neck and placed her arms around him. They pulled away and smiled. Gently he kissed her forehead. 

“I’m sorry for believing that you would ever,” She looked down, “You know.”

Sirius picked her chin back up gently, “You have nothing to be sorry for, love.”

Y/n kissed his lips softly. His lips were far from how she remembered. They were no longer soft and tasted of smoke. Instead, they were chapped and tasted of firewhiskey. Perhaps some things never change. Their lips melded together perfectly, just as they did so many years ago. They pulled apart, smiling brightly. She pulled from his embrace to stand by his side. 

“Sirius, this is-“

“Perseus, I know.” 

Perseus smiled nervously; they had the same smile, the same straight smile, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

It was silent for a while as Perseus shuffled, “Are you- are you staying this time?”

“I’d like to.” Sirius replied, “I’m not quite sure the extent of my living abilities, but I’ll be here.”

“I’m- I'm in Slytherin.”

“Okay.”

Perseus looked incredulously, “Okay? That’s all you have to say?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being in Slytherin.” Sirius stated, “Your heart is in the right place.”

“How would you know?” Percy snapped, “You’ve been gone for most of my life. You don’t know anything about me.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “So you standing in front of your Mather was just a happy accident? You weren’t planning on protecting her. Shall something go wrong?”

Percy looked at the ground, “Someone had to make sure she was safe while you were gone.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“Life isn’t fair!” Percy yelled, “You left us. You don’t realize how badly you hurt her while you were gone.”

Remus walked back into the corridor to see Y/n frozen staring at her son. Sirius was standing in an argumentative stance. Percy’s eyes were filling with tears of frustration as he stared at the man who abandoned him from the start. 

“You left me. You left mum. You left Remus.” Percy cried, “How did you expect this to go, huh?”

Sirius didn’t say anything, “Did you expect me to be happy?! Did you expect me to hug you and fall into your arms?!” Percy shouted, “Because I’m not. I’m not happy, and I’m not going to fall into your arms and hug you like a naive little boy. My mum deserves better than this bullshit.”

“Enough!” Remus snapped, and Percy froze, “Your father is risking his life to be here right now. To meet you. I get it. I wouldn’t be happy either if my father did what Sirius did. But with things, the way they are right now is holding a grudge really that important?”

“N- No, sir.”

“Percy.” Y/n called, and he stared at her with watery eyes as she approached him, “I get it. You’re angry, you’re upset, but he’s still your father. He wants to be here now.”

“B- But he-“

“I know, my love. He’s going to try and make up for it. You don’t have to trust him right away. You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ right away. He isn’t expecting that.” Y/n wiped the tears from his cheeks, “All he’s expecting is his son. The little boy that he last saw.”

Percy looked down, “I know you aren’t that little boy, and I wish you still were. The little boy that used to make me smile and laugh. The little boy that used to cause mischief around the house driving Remus mad.” 

Sirius smiled, “You’re older now, and that will take some getting used to. I know you don’t remember, but Sirius used to be the only one who could get you to stop crying. He used to hold you all night, sleep with you in the rocking chair.”

“Sirius used to babble nonsense to you while I was at work. He used to take you to the park. Make you laugh by turning into a dog.” Percy sniffled, “Back then, Sirius was your everything, baby.”

Percy hugged his mom tight, “I- I’m scared.”

It was only loud enough for her to hear, “Why, baby?”

“What if- what if he leaves again?”

“He’s not going to.” Y/n moved the hair from his face, “Sirius wouldn’t leave us unless he had to.”

Percy knew what that meant. Sirius wouldn’t leave unless he got killed or died. Percy looked at Sirius’ eyes which were filled with tears from recalling the moments of his past. Y/n smiled reassuringly before Percy allowed himself to hug his father. He was wrapping his arms around his stomach, nuzzling his nose into his chest. 

When they pulled apart, Sirius smiled, “You’re my everything, kiddo.”