#okay third one in the making. this is very late i just got home from the dentist

[messenger-of-babel]

Always Late

Summary: Batman was late when you needed him the most, but he refused to let it happen again. (Batfamily x sibling!reader)

Word Count: 4.5K (This was supposed to be a quick fic 💀)

Notes: BIG AUTHOR NOTE INCOMING Before anyone comes for me- I know this was supposed to be a day for Chris. I'm just feeling a touch sick but still want to get a fic out, and I'm currently not able to churn out and go through his, so I'll write some Chris later! Instead I wanted something else, consider it a change up to shake some life back into the theme. I also rambled hella long on this one, so strap in, it's long and the plot got lost in the maze of my mind. I had to shuffle things around and it just kept growing and growing, oh my god so I hope it makes sense to everyone still. Clark caemo, some (very??) OOC villain work cause I forgot some of my original plot and villains so begging on my knees for forgiveness fr. GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/ TORTURE DESCRPTION FOR SOME AREAS. I should have made this two parts but I messed up and made just one massive fic. Was supposed to be batfam x reader but it started feeling more like bruce x reader hahaha. RIP my sleep schedule please reap the benefits of my labour. 😭

Again I was originally here to be a resi blog but I can't help writing for DC after a day of reading comics. On that topic I actually finished collecting Tom Taylor's run at #118, my store held #119 for me so I get to read that as a reward after the hell that will be my Monday.

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When you were taken, it caused a widespread panic among Gotham.

Tabloids across the city wrote about the latest missing person, this time none other than the latest member of billionaire Bruce Wayne's family. The Gotham Gazette had been running articles about you for months already, including the scandal that had come with it. Your dirty laundry and past had been aired for the entire city to read and speculate upon. Whether Bruce had just adopted you out of pity, sympathising with the way that you had lost your parents the same way he had. Gossip about it could all be a ploy for him to expand his influence in Gotham, after the riches and estate that your family had left you behind in their untimely death. The city was thrown into chaos from the death of your parents, both of them from founding Gotham families and well-established lawyers. It was shaken more once the Wayne had taken you into his household, and now it was all but alight as you vanished.

Fingers pointed in every which way, your disappearance marking the fourth among affluent families in Gotham. Accusations had even been hurled at Bruce, claiming that he had killed you in order to gain your assets and the other missing people were to establish an alibi. After all, Bruce Wayne had no alibi for the night that you went missing.

But he had an alibi.

Bruce reflected upon that fact for three days already, while he tore his hair out trying to find you. He had been out in the city, patrolling as usual. The disappearances were the latest case, and he was determined to stop them before they continued. He had been so involved in the case, standing so close to the evidence that he didn't even consider the option that he himself would be affected, or consider the perpetrator might targe the Waynes. he hadn't expected to get a call from Alfred a little past midnight, the butler wheezing painfully into the receiver.

Blood freezing in his veins he had come home to an empty house, windows on the third story smashed in. Alfred was slumped by the phone, its sleek body hanging off the hook. Bruce had pulled the cowl off without a second thought, cradling the older man's head in his lap with shaky hands. He had relaxed slightly when there was a steady pulse under his fingers, and the tension eased further when the older man had opened his eyes.

"Alfred," Bruce had sighed out, moving the old man from his lap to against the wall, hand keeping him upright. "Are you okay-"

"They took them." came the old man's mumbled reply, and for a second Bruce's jaw just hung there.

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart thudding painfully against his ribs, panic rising once more.

"They came through the window, cut the lights. I pretended to be unconscious to use the phone line, but they came back. Cut it shortly after I rang you." the older man said, looking up with remorseful eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Mr. Wayne." he said forlornly. "I couldn't stop them."

Bruce looked down; jaw tensed. "It wasn't your fault." he said firmly, trying to quell the despair radiating off the old man.

"They took them kicking and screaming. I could hear them the entire time, but I couldn't do anything I-"

"Alfred." Bruce said sternly. "Alfred it's okay. Let me handle it, you go make some tea." he said, helping the old man stand up.

"Tea, yes, yes that's right..." the butler murmured to himself, hand to his head. "It's been a while since you asked me for tea, sir."

"It's not for me." Bruce said, pulling the cowl back on. "It's for you. make yourself some tea and we'll patch you up. Take it easy tonight, wait for the shock to wear off."

Alfred looks at him, hesitating, but eventually nods. "We, sir?"

Bruce hums, fists at his side. "Yes. This case has escalated. It's time to request help."

He keeps his voice level as he walks away, but Alfred notes the way that he turns the corner, and the anger put into his stride.

When he gets to the cave he wastes no time, calling in everyone he can think of. His chest feels tight, breath short as his vision swims. Every signal he can send he does, the blurring in his eyes seeping into his mind too. He cradles his head in his hands, trying to calm it but to no avail. It's only when the ringing of the Batcomputer cuts through the fog that he is able to look up, shaking fingers hitting the accept call button.

"Batman?" comes the crackly voice of Nightwing, and the fog begins to clear slightly.

"Nightwing." he says back gruffly, voice hoarse.

"About time, you were making people pretty worried, you know." Dick chides, and there's the sound of yapping in the background. "What's the brief? What's happened?"

"Kidnapping." he says, voice thick. "Broke into the manor. Alfred is likely to be concussed, but it shouldn't be too serious. He's making tea, Robin is out on the other side of the city tonight. Red Robin is with you, isn't he?"

There's more shuffling on the other end before Dick responds. "Yeah, he's been helping in Bludhaven, he came last night."

"Bring him. Bring Oracle too. Everyone...come home." he murmurs, hands shaking as he tries to think clearly.

"Bruce, is everything okay with you?" Dick comes in, concern evident.

"Fine. I need people back immediately. Why?" he huffs back, rubbing the spots from his eyes with his fingers.

"Because we've all been trying to call you for the last few minutes. This is the first time you've picked up."

Bruce takes a deep breath, exhaling softly. He hadn’t realised how badly he had spaced out. "It's an emergency. They...they’re gone. They need to come home."

"The new kid?" Dick breathes. "Wait, you mean-"

Bruce nods even though he knows his eldest cannot see him. "Gone. Now come back and come back tonight." he ends the call before Dick can say anything else, and his tired eyes scan the monitor filled with a string of outgoing distress calls and an equally large number of missed ones. In his haze he had pressed every com line he had. He had pinged Jason, he had pinged Dick. Hell, he had even pinged the League and Clark, who hadn't even bothered to call for clarity, his response status just reading, 'On my way'.

He held his head in his hands, breaths laboured.

Bruce had held his own reservations when adopting you. He knew about the media uprising that it would cause, the rumours that were sure to fly. He had known what kind of mental state that would put you in, how it would angle you in a whole new world of cameras, but he couldn't help himself. He had seen you while in the suit, and maybe he had taken you in to make himself feel better. For not catching the person who had killed your parents, arriving too late. He had been training for this his entire life, it was his entire mission in Gotham, yet he couldn't stop the very crimes that had put him on this path.

If he had been faster maybe he could have saved your parents, disarming the man with the knife before it plunged into the chest of your father. Maybe he could have arrived faster so that he could have caught the offender that robbed your mother before giving her the same treatment and fleeing into the night. Instead, he was only there fast enough for him to hear you scream as your parents collapsed to the floor. He was there as you cried and shook them and tried to stop the blood spilling through your fingers, but you were unsure where to start. After all, how can someone make a decision between stopping the flow seeping from their father’s chest and the one from their mother’s throat?

He had been there to pull you away, was there to catch the last dying light of your father as he stroked your cheek before making eye contact with Bruce. "Look after my kid." he had whispered, something Bruce had nearly missed under all your screaming. Bruce pulled you away while he called for the GCPD, and from one father to another, he made sure to keep that promise.

Your relationship had been rough, clearly distraught at the way you lost your parents. You were older than he was when the same had happened, but you were still young. You had clung to Bruce the day he said he was going to take you in, and he had managed to soothe you with a soft hand up and down your back. Yet as the tabloids got worse and the gossip began to grow, you began pulling away from him and seeking the comfort of your room instead. He had done his best to protect you from the media, paying money to have articles removed and when that didn't work, he threatened to sue. It made the Gazette pull their head in a bit, but it still failed to be enough. Evidently, as there was now an empty bedroom on the third floor of the east wing.

All he could do was sigh and blink away the images of the children he had hurt, in the name of Robin or otherwise. He had to rub away the death of Jason that he reflected on in sombre moments when he thought no one was looking. He had gotten you into this mess, attached you with his name and all of its subsequent burdens. So, it was his duty to get you back and get you back safe.

Yet three days later, he had nothing.

The cave had been a buzz of activity for all three days, and Bruce, no, Batman, was acting close to a slave driver. Tim and Barbara hadn't left the caves computers in days, Damian and Steph constantly scouring the rooftops. Dick was concerned, hell, everyone was. Even the gruff Jason had been called in, and reluctantly he had answered.

"You find anything?" Dick asked, leaning against the wall with his younger brother. Jason was still suited up, coming back from the patrol around Bristol area. He removes the mask and shakes his hair free, sighing.

"Nothing. Areas come up empty. No sign of 'em."

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. "God, there's nothing on my end either. The Docks and all Southside of Gotham are clean, no traces. Any signs pointing to who it could be?"

Jason shrugs, helmet tucked under his arm. "No idea, as it stands, the kid's just gone missing. If Bruce isn't able to scrounge up a lead, I doubt I will. Not my forte. He should give Tim a break and send him out."

"Yeah, like he'll do that. He's got him tied to cave duty." Dick scoffs back. He feels bad, talking like your kidnapping was a causal affair. He didn't treat it like one, his heart stuttering when Bruce had called him in a haze and all shaken. It didn't a genius to see how attached Bruce had gotten to you in such a short amount of time, but sometimes Dick worried that Bruce was projecting his own trauma onto you. But still you were his younger sibling, a part of the family now. He had met you with a warm smile and a gentle hand the day that you moved in, coming in from Bludhaven to make the house a bit more lively while you got settled in. God, he knew what it was like moving in alone into that empty house, with only Bruce and Alfred to warm the halls. He had eaten dinner with you, took you out for walks in the garden when your grief allowed you move more than a few paces. He did his absolute best, and he knew that with time he could be a big brother to you.

Yet you hadn't been given the time, snatched away before Christmas even hit. He doubted you knew that Bruce was the Batman, or that the rest of the family had an interesting array of night lives.

Jason was the same in the way that he hadn't interacted with you much.

Honestly, he was awkward with kids, since the last kid of Bruce's he had met was the devil spawn who spat at him like an angry cat every chance he got. You were thankfully much older and easier to understand, but that still didn’t mean smooth sailing. Jason hated even coming back to the manor, and he and Bruce had been having one of their ongoing fights during the time he took you in, meaning he missed seeing you often. Yet he still talked to Dick (more so that Dick called him to make sure that he was okay) and the older man had seen you plenty. He felt like he knew you from Dick alone, but he wasn't oblivious to your story printed in the newspapers shoved under his apartment door. He pitied you, understood the grief that you must have been going through at the sudden violence that tossed your little world upside down. Sure, you had gone from luxury to luxury, but Gotham was unkind to everyone. it was the same violence that Jason strode to clean off the street, and his heart ached deep down that someone like you had managed to get caught in its claws.

"Do you think it could be the clown?" Dick asks quietly. "He'd do something as ballsy as this."

Jason tenses, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Not likely. That bastard likes to make a spectacle of things. No doubt he would have contacted the Bat the second he took the first victim or aired it like some twisted game show. It's not like him to lay quiet."

"So, it's someone else. It's unnatural for Gotham's villains to do something in the dark like this. I mean, it's been three days since they were abducted, and they're the fourth kidnap victim. There hasn't been a ransom note, a demand, a body. Not a peep for any of the captives. It's unnatural."

Jason hums in agreement, but they both jump as Bruce storms through grandfather clock entrance.

Everyone present turns, watching how Clark trails after him. Five sets of eyes watch the livid way the Bat cuts a path through the cave and gets into the batmobile, breaths too anxious to be released. Without a word the car screams out of the cave, and they all turn to Clark. Barbara casts a glance to Tim and then to Dick, who just shrugs, worry deepening on his face.

"What the hell's going on?" Jason growls, pushing off from the wall. Clark turns to face him, dressed in his Superman suit.

"We’ve found them." Clark says, face grim, and Dick shares a look with Jason. However, when Dick meets the eyes of Superman, he can see the flicker of worry in the Kryptonian. "Well let's get going then. Why did he leave alone?" Dick asked, slipping the domino mask back onto his face. Clark opens his mouth to speak but is cut off as Damian steps out behind his broad figure.

"Because it's the League." the younger boy says, green eyes boring in Dick's. "It's grandfather."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Bruce drove like his life depended on it, which wasn't fair when it was yours on the line instead. He could see the dots on his monitor indicating that the others were following him, and he had assumed that Clark had proceeded to fill them in. He had asked his old friend to look after the city while he sped towards the outskirts, just in case the League decided to do something while he had his guard on the city lowered. His com crackled to life, radio filling the otherwise silent car.

"Oi." snapped the voice of Red Hood, modulated and grainy. "Don't leave without telling us what's going on. Aren't you the one always spewing that 'feel-no-emotion' bullshit? To not let it cloud your judgement? Cause from the way I see it, you're acting kinda hazy."

"I trusted Clark would fill you in." he says back, voice tense. Red Hood scoffs.

"Yeah, and he did. You called us. You tell us what the hell you want us to help with, otherwise don't bother calling at all. Don't drag us out, get us invested then not let us help when it comes to it. What was your plan, beat the shit out of Ras and taken them back by yourself?"

Bruce falls silent, and there's a slight huff from Jason on the other end.

"Honestly? not the worst plan you've had, and I respect the enthusiasm, but you still should have looped us in. I want to get a hit in too."

Bruce turns his head to the direction of the radio, snapped from his concentration on the road momentarily and it's like Jason can feel his confusion through the commlink.

"Don't give me that silence." he groans. "They're family, aren't they? I'm not opposed to a younger sibling, you know." he huffs irritably. "But do me a favour and control Nightwing, hey? He's looking as coiled as you. You might have to fight him for the first hit."

Bruce doesn’t say anything before the comm cuts off, leaving him in the silence once more and eyes going straight back onto the red dot mapped onto his GPS. You.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

When you awoke the first time, you couldn’t feel anything. Your hands were tied to your ankles behind you, black cloth wrapped around your eyes. what you did know was that you were lying somewhere concrete, face pressed into the dusty cement. You knew that on the day that you woke and they had brough you were, that there were other people thrown in the same cell as you. You also knew that those other people were dead.

You had heard them scream, heard the way that they begged for their lives when they were dragged from the pen you were in. One a day, until you were left alone with no one to talk to. They had all been kidnapped like you, affluent people that you recognised the names and voices of. You had heard some of them at events you parents had hosted and attended, and when you traded names, they had remembered you immediately. You weren't dumb, you knew that you had all been taken here because you were rich. That was the only thing that you had in common with the heiresses and finance brokers that had shared the cells with you, huddled up against the cool metal.

Now the only thing left was you and the stickiness that crept under the bars of your cage, grateful that the blindfold was on so you didn't have to see what it was. At first you thought that you were alone, that your captors had left, but you knew better. You could sense them all around you, quiet and watching. They were like an uncomfortable prickling on your neck, the ghost of fingertips across your skin. Yet the hours and minutes had bled into days, and now you didn’t care if they were there or not.

You knew that they wanted to kill you. They had killed the rest. You had been given small amounts of food and water the first day or two, but today there had been none. Your mouth was dry as you lay on your side, lips cracking with the desire to drink. Your throat felt like sandpaper when you swallowed, and the silence that you were met with when you called out only made your panic and helplessness rise. You had lost the ability to cry, body sluggish. It felt like everything was shutting down, the pain in your stomach unbearable and tongue heavy in your mouth. As the heat crept in and pulled sweat from your unwilling skin, you began wishing that they would kill you.

You supposed that your wish was answered when the creak of your cell signalled one of your silent observers had come for you, and the tug on the ropes binding your limbs together made you lurch forward. You kept your face pressed down, too weak to struggle against them as they dragged you out and gripped your hair, making you shift onto your knees at an awkward angle. For the first time in days, you heard someone speak.

" So, this is Bruce's new...child." Your captor hummed. You could hear the way that their boots scuffed as they walked, coming to stand in front of you. You could faintly feel the swish of fabric, long and tickling the floor. "I wonder if he was planning to hand the title of Robin over so soon.”

Your eyebrows furrow, but your barely functioning brain fails to process what he's saying.

"Are you aware of your family's lineage?" comes the voice from above you, commanding and deep with a hint of something malicious in the undertone, like a coiled snake waiting to strike. “Your real family, the ones who claimed to practice a just and fair law. Not Wayne.”

 You manage to shake your head weakly, grimacing as the image of your parents covered in blood flickered into your mind.

The voice above you tuts. "The sins of the father shall be bestowed upon the son," he recites softly. "And you are to pay the penance. Gotham will be purged, and the bloodlines of the corrupt shall be the first to burn, aware of their sins or not."

You don't even get a chance to ask what he's saying, the words sounding like biblical rambling. A scream is ripped through your throat instead as a sharp hot pain erupts through your shoulder, the sound of your own skin bubbling making you sick. You wail, body aching to thrash but the fatigue and weakness preventing you from doing such. The hands on your shoulders hold you still as the sensation is repeated across your body, stray tears leaking from your eyes despite your dehydrated state. It's only when you feel like you’re about to cross over, embrace the light spilling behind your eyes that you realise that the hands have left your body and that you're lying face down, discarded on the concrete floor.

You can feel the ache all over your body, a stinging and writhing pain that makes your whimper involuntarily. You can now make out that there is sound around you, echoing off the empty walls and causing your head to throb after days of silence.

For Bruce however, the world was silent despite being in the thick of the fight. They had pulled up the abandoned building on the edge of Gotham and Bludhaven, thankfully located by Clark and his x-ray vision after days of searching. He had stormed into the building with Dick, Jason, and Tim on his heels, his hands filled with a shake only the trained eye could determine as rage. The world had dripped into the pulsing cadence of his heartbeat as soon as he saw you, kneeling at Ra’s feet and being held by league assassins. He had hardly any time to process the way that you curled up and into yourself when you were dropped so carelessly, head thudding lifelessly against the floor. Forlorn, he eyed the way your body was covered with cuts and stabs, burns from the red-hot sword still held in the hands of a soldier. He hadn't known when the league had decided to dabble in torture, but Bruce felt like joining that night.

Jason and Tim were dealing with the assassins, the younger male finally freed from desk duty. He didn't know you as well as he would have liked considering that you lived under the same roof as him, but you had been warming up. He had really hoped that you could get along, but now he feared that this was going to push your back into the shell you had just started to crack, and that frustration was evident in the whistling of his bow staff as it cut through the air.

Dick had gone after Ra’s immediately while Batman raced for you, Dicks escrima sticks going for the head. Dick was fast and agile, muscles more tensed than usual as he sent well placed blow after blow. Yet Bruce wasn’t an idiot, he knew the limits of him and his team, and he knew the limits of Ra’s. That's why in what limited time that Dick bought for him he dropped to your side, slicing through your bonds with a batarang and letting your arms and legs fall free from their cramped position behind you. You groan lightly as he cradles you to his chest, weakly crying out as he justles the many wounds. He loosens the blindfold from your eyes, and your blink up at him a few seconds later, squinting against the light.

Your skin is sticky with blood both your own and not, flecked across the apple of your cheeks. He eyes the burns, the warped and rippled skin that blistered angrily and would surely get infected if not treated soon. He observes the many cages set up in the corner, the one he presumes was yours wide open and empty. He feels sick seeing the dead bodies in the other ones, imagining that it could have been you in there, dead like some caged animal for slaughter.

You make a weak whimper when he stands, and he has half a mind to join Nightwing in beating Ras so badly he'd need to use the pit again.

But he doesn’t.

He rises to his feet with you in his arms, and he calls for a retreat. You cry and moan as he hurries out, Jason and Tim covering your exit while Dick flips into the rafters and out of range of the Demon Head. He wants to fight; he wants to put them in their place for hurting his family. But the moment he had met your eyes again, it was like that day in the alleyway. You had seen him as Batman too that day, but as he laid you hurriedly in the back of the batmobile and patched Oracle in to prep the med bay, he knew that something was different from that night.

Because unlike the day you lost your parents, he had made it in time.

[dixons-sunshine]

No Backing Out | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you told Daryl you were pregnant, he vowed to himself he would be there for you throughout everything. However, when Daryl got a message over the radio that your water had broken, and he wasn’t anywhere near the community, his heart dropped, and he raced back towards the safe zone, his only hope being that you hadn’t been forced to go through everything alone.

Genre: Slightly angsty/fluffy.

Era: Alexandria, set post Saviour arc.

Warnings: Mentions of labour and child birth.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: I don’t know what this is. I had this idea of Daryl nearly missing his child’s birth and (very poorly) executed it. I’m sorry this sucks, but I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable.

With a loud, deafening screech, the rusted gates of the safe zone rolled open, allowing the approaching blue vehicle to drive into the safety of the community’s walls. The car barely had time to come to a stop within the gated community before the door of the vehicle was flung open. Daryl scrambled to get out of the vehicle, nearly falling to the ground in his haste, and took off in a sprint. He accidentally dropped his beloved crossbow on the gravel, but he didn’t even realize. His only concern was getting to your shared home, to you. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

He just hoped his mission beyond the walls with Rick hadn’t cost him being there for the birth of his child.

The message that Carol had relayed to Daryl and Rick over the radio still rung clear in his mind. ‘Y/N’s water broke’. That message had Daryl regretting ever leaving your side that morning in the first place. He should have told Rick to take someone else instead. If he had, then he wouldn’t be running down the streets of Alexandria, praying to whatever entity was listening that he wasn’t too late.

Your shared home came into view, and Daryl picked up the pace. Even when running from walkers, Daryl had never run quite as fast as he was at that moment. Each moment he slowed to catch his breath could potentially lead to you having to go through everything alone, if you hadn’t already gone through everything alone. He really hoped you hadn’t. He would feel like the lowest piece of shit on earth if he had missed it.

He ran up the porch steps, taking three steps at a time. He flung the front door open, the wood crashing against the wall, but Daryl didn’t care. A hole in the wall could be fixed. Missing the birth of his child couldn’t.

Daryl opened his mouth to call out to Carol, but the woman—who had been keeping in contact with Rick and had gotten the message that Daryl was on his way—rushed down the stairs. Her eyes locked onto Daryl’s, and she gave him a warm, albeit strained, smile.

Daryl’s heart practically pounded against his ribcage. “Has she—”

“No,” Carol cut him off, a small chuckle escaping her, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “No, she hasn’t. But she’s about to any moment.”

That was all the confirmation the archer needed. Without needing to be pushed to do so, Daryl pressed past the Peletier woman, rushing up the stairs to get to the bedroom you were in. He flung the door open—the third door that day—and stepped into the room, his eyes wide. Daryl could vaguely make out two other figures in the room, those of Michonne and Siddiq, but his main focus was on you; more so on the pained expression on your face.

You looked up at Daryl, relief instantly noticable on your tear-streaked face. “Daryl...” you trailed off in a soft whisper, quietly calling for your archer to be with you, to reassure you that everything would be okay. You needed his comfort.

In one swift movement, Daryl made his way over to your side. He sat down on the bed, one of his hands immediately finding its place in yours. His other arm wrapped around your shoulders when you rested your head against his shoulder. “M’here, sweet girl,” he mumbled into your hair, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “M’so sorry I wasn’t here.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Michonne slip out of the room, and Carol walking inside and towards Siddiq.

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” you told him, sending him a smile, one that was strained due to the overwhelming pain that flooded through your body. You sat forward, out of his embrace, and let out a small cry, screwing your eyes shut in an attempt to will the pain away.

Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed together. He rubbed soothing circles over your back, and he pressed another kiss to the top of your head. “M’here. I got ya. Yer doin’ so good, Sweetheart.”Your exhausted body fell back against Daryl’s chest. Your breathing was heavy and uneven, the pain in both your back and abdomen failing to cease even the slightest bit. A small whimper fell from your lips, and Daryl’s heart ached for you.

Siddiq moved forward and examined your nether area. A small smile graced the doctor’s features, and he looked up at Daryl. “Seems to me like you got here in the nick of time, Daryl.” Siddiq shifted his attention back to you, and he adapted a gentler, almost understanding smile. “You’re fully dilated, Y/N. It’s time.”

Your heart began pounding against your ribcage. Your grip on Daryl’s hand tightened considerably, fear evident on your face. “I can’t do this,” you whispered through your tears.

Daryl’s thumb rubbed soothingly over your knuckles. “Yer the strongest person I know. If there’s anyone that can do this, s’ya. Ya can do this. I know ya can. And I’mma be by yer side the whole time, alright?” When you sent him a small, grateful smile, he continued in a slightly joking tone. “‘Sides, pretty sure there ain’t no backin’ out now.”

“There’s not,” Carol commented, taking your other hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “This baby’s coming. You’re gonna meet your little one any minute now.” Her words barely had time to register in the air. Another sharp pain shot through your abdomen, making you cry out. Carol squeezed your hand again, understanding in her eyes. “Be strong, Honey. You can do this.”

You nodded, and shared a look with Daryl. “Don’t go. I can’t do this alone.”

Daryl shook his head. “I already said I ain’t goin’ nowhere, and I mean it. M’here for ya.” He placed a tender kiss to the side of your head. “I love ya, Sweetheart. Ya got this.”

His words rung through your ears, an anchor in your otherwise turmoil of a mind. However, as another cry of pain left your chest, and Siddiq told you it was time to start pushing, you prayed that his steadfast belief in you wasn’t misplaced.

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - kim seungmin (7th to lose)

-> pairing : seungmin x fem!reader

-> words count : 3.2k

-> genre : smut, etablished relation

-> warnings : switch!seungmin, begging, dirty talk, praising, hair pulling, unprotected sex, blowjob, handjob, use of 'good boy' and 'slut', bondage, overstimulation + the way i'm depicting seungmin does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

Seungmin was not someone to give up easily, and you knew that when you got together. However, it was one of the things you liked the most about him. Well, of course sometimes he was so stubborn that you wanted to rub the evidence of him being wrong in his face, but most of the time, you were happy that your boyfriend was able to do just what he said. 

But this time, Seungmin might have fucked up. Okay, he wanted to prove to the guys that he was the best. Okay, he was competitive and wanted to win. But was it really worth it when he couldn’t even touch you ? He had made it clear to you that his goal was to win the no nut november bet he made with the rest of the members. You complained a bit at first, but it was also challenging for you, so you agreed. 

You did nothing, really nothing to try and make him lose. You had been reasonable, forcing you to keep your hands for yourself even if you wanted to let them wander around his body when he was pecking your lips as he came home. But for it to be equal, you forbade him to touch you for the month too. Would be too tempting, as you said yourself. And he agreed at first. He wanted to win, and he was ready to do everything for that. 

Time went by, and if the first two weeks were pretty easy to handle, within the end of the third, Seungmin became unbearable. He even ended up sleeping on the couch to avoid waking up with a boner because you couldn’t stay still in your sleep - and because all he wanted was to fuck with you in the early hours of the morning everytime he breathed in your smell. 

It’s been almost a month, only two days left in November. However, Seungmin was on the edge of giving up. It was not even something you did, on the contrary, you have been so respectful and pliant to all of his wishes. It was just him and his corrupted mind that could only think of you, all day long. It was becoming insufferable and exhausting resisting his desire for you. 

He wanted to wait for you tonight, knowing you would come back home very late due to work. But he was so tired that he fell asleep before he even finished one episode of the series he put on the television. It’s only when he heard the door closing that he woke up slightly, lifting himself off the couch while rubbing his eyes to make the sleepiness go away. He heard you hanging in your coat and getting your shoes off before heading to the living room.

“- What are you doing awake baby ?

- Mh… Was waiting for you, wanted to sleep next to you.”

You dropped your purse on the table between the couch and the television, before reaching for your boyfriend’s cheeks, rubbing your thumbs on them as he pulled you in closer, circling your waist with his arms. He nuzzled his face against your stomach, sighing in relief when you stroked his hair gently. 

“- Rough day ? 

- Exhausting…”

You leaned forward, kissing the top of his head multiple times before you tried to escape. But Seungmin didn’t seem to want to let you go, gripping on your waist to keep you close from him and making you giggle. 

“- I’m just going to take a quick shower baby, then you’ll get all the cuddles you want.

- Can I come with you ?”

He looked up to you, his eyes now glistening with something a lot more thrilling than sleep. You knew what he was thinking about. But you were only a few days apart from winning the bet, you were almost there. 

“- I want to, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.

- Why ?

- Please Seungmin, you know really well what I’m talking about. You made me promise to keep my mind clear when you couldn’t. It’s what I’m trying to do just now.”

He pouted for some seconds, before standing up and finally wrapping you in his embrace, preventing you from running away to hide in the bathroom. 

“- But I want you. Don’t you want me too ?”

You raised your head until your eyes met, biting down on your lips as soon as you saw him licking his own. You wanted him too, but all these efforts to keep your hands to yourself for a whole month would be thrown away too easily if you let him win just like that. You smirked to yourself when you put your hands around his neck, tilting your head to the side. 

“- Hm… I don’t know, maybe you should give me something to test the water, I can’t remember what it feels like.”

Seungmin mumbled some words sounding like “gonna make you remember forever” before he leaned down and kissed you passionately. And you responded with just as much desire as him. You were actually craving this for weeks, you would have been dumb to keep your little game on. Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling on it lightly and making him grunt. You took advantage of his opened mouth to play with his tongue, moaning at the contact you had missed too much. 

“- Fuck… I missed this…”

He groaned when you talked and stopped kissing him. He missed this too. Very much. And now that he had got a taste again, he didn't let you go. So he started to push you towards the bathroom while capturing your lips again, knowing that you needed your shower after work. Seungmin lifted you to sit you up on the counter, not caring about your clothes getting wet from the water that was still on it. He let go of you only to open the water in the shower for it to warm up. 

You didn’t waste more time and started stripping off your clothes, throwing them away as Seungmin watched your skin being exposed to his lustful gaze little by little, getting out of his sweatpants and underwear as quickly as possible. He wanted to be inside you. He needed to be inside you. Your panty had hardly hit the floor when Seungmin made his way to you again, spreading your legs wide and standing between them. He could have moaned at the sight of your pussy dripping, just waiting for him to finally take what was his. 

“- Fuck ! You’re so wet love… I missed your pretty pussy so much…”

His fingers headed directly to your clit, circling it like he knew you liked it. A whine fell from your lips, having missed his touch just as much as he missed touching you. 

“- Min… Min wait !”

His eyes detached from your glistening slit, his thumb pressing lightly against your entrance and making you moan. He already seemed lost, already seemed too far to care about anything else than you. 

“- I want you so bad but the bet ? Thought you really wanted to-”

The end of your sentence was muffled by his lips crashing on yours, and another moan escaped from you as he pushed a finger past your folds. You gripped his shoulders tightly, wanting to feel his skin against yours over and over. A month was definitely too much, and you will never make this mistake again. Your reflections were cut off by Seungmin’s lips sliding from your mouth to your jaw, and then your neck. You tilted your head to the side, humming in satisfaction as he sucked on your sensitive skin. 

“- I don’t give a fuck about the bet, I just need you.”

It was rare for Seungmin to express his desire so clearly to you. Even though you’ve been together for two years, he was still a little embarrassed to let you know what was going through his mind in this kind of moment. And every time he did, you wouldn't miss the opportunity of teasing him gently, but endlessly. It was certainly your favourite thing about him. He wanted to have the upper hand all the time, but you knew how to make him surrender. You loved it when he did. 

“- I want you so bad y/n…

- Beg for it then.”

His head snapped up from your neck on which some marks had already started to appear. His big puppy eyes almost made you give up, but you liked to see him cry for you even more. 

“- Seriously ? 

- Did you think you could not touch me for a whole month because of a stupid bet, just to give up one day before the end and not get punished ? Then you don't know me so well baby."

Seungmin remained speechless as you pushed him away just enough to get off of the counter. You were still wearing your underwear, and you did nothing to try to get them off before stepping inside the shower, relaxing under the hot water. And Seungmin stayed there, only capable of admiring every curve of your body as droplets ran down your skin. 

“- You’re really going to play it like that ?

- Yes. Should’ve thought about it before making this stupid bet. Now come here.”

He huffed and tried to seem angry but his hard dick was a clear reminder that he was not immune to the affect your behavior had on him. He liked it when you listened to him straight away. But he also liked it so much when you were ordering him around as if you owned him. And in a way, you owned him. You owned his heart, and you owned his body. 

“- So ? You’re gonna stay there or come here and prove to me you deserve a reward ?”

Seungmin was fast to join you in the shower, his hands and lips all over you, tracing your skin as if you were an artwork, a goddess. He willingly waited for your permission before unclasping your bra, going right for your nipples to suck on them as if he was a man starved. You both moaned at the feeling, having missed each other so much. 

“- You’re so good for me Min… But you need to let me wash myself first. 

- You’re annoying…

- Yeah, but you love me. And you’re going to stroke your cock for me, but you can’t cum. Okay ?”

Seungmin stepped back a little, a pout on his lips. But he didn’t get to go too far before you grabbed his hair, pulling his head back as he tried to contain a moan. 

“- I didn’t hear you babe. Have you understood ? 

- Yes…”

His voice was shaky, but at this point, he didn’t even try to hide it. He just wanted to feel your touch, and he knew that the only way was to listen to you and do what you said to him. He leaned against the wall, his cock in his hand while you were washing your body and hair. You had to admit it : Seungmin was looking incredibly hot, and all you wanted to do was to get down on your knees and choke on his dick. But he needed to suffer a little more, and you needed to hear him beg you to do something. 

And you did something. You sucked his dick, dropping to your knees and taking him in your mouth as soon as you finished your shower. He was so sensitive, he almost came just seeing you sucking him, but if he did, you would have never let him touch you. And he needed it. So he let you do your thing. Let you deepthroat him, stroke him, tie him to the bed, making him moan and whine so much his throat was dry. 

“- Y/n… Stop that…. F-Fuck ! I can’t take it anymore !”

Your grin was eating your face as you didn’t listen to Seunmgin, your hand still wrapped around his cock and not letting go until he begged you. Tears were filling his now glossy eyes, his cheeks were red, sweat covering his whole body. He was asking you to stop, but he was thrusting in your hand in hope of getting more and more. And every time he did that, you would stop moving and let him whine and whimper all he wanted. 

“- I need you baby…”

It was a good start, but not enough. You needed to hear more, you needed to hear more of his moans and whines of your name. 

“- If you need me so much, you know what to say love.”

You smiled again, even if Seungmin had closed his eyes for several minutes. You stopped stroking his cock, and he didn’t even get to whine before you licked it and took him in your mouth again. With his hands tied to the headboard, he could only moan and close his eyes, gripping the handcuffs and trying not to cum as you started to bob your head on his length. 

Seungmin wanted to hold on a little longer, to push you so much that you would give up. But he was so sensitive right now, all he wanted was to be buried deep inside of you, he needed that. His breath hitched in his throat as you licked his tip once again before sucking on his cock. 

“- F-Fuck ! Please, please… Please y/n fuck me… Please ! I can’t take it anymore, I need you please…”

You smiled to yourself as you watched your boyfriend struggle to talk as he was interrupted every now and then by whimpers and whines. He was so beautiful, laying in your bed with tears streaming down his face and neverending pleas escaping his lips. 

“- That’s it baby, finally using the right words.

- Please baby… Please…”

You bite your lips as you straddle his hips, taking his face in your hands and getting him to look at you. You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, smiling at him as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so wet that the sound of his dick stretching you out resonated in the room as loud as both your moans. 

“- Y/n… I-I’m gonna cum…

- Let go Min, fill me up.”

It only took him a couple of thrust in your cunt to shoot his load, moaning in a high pitched voice as he did, missing the way you looked at his blissful face in adoration. As Seungmin was trying to get back, he felt your fingers running through his hair, and he also felt that you started to ride him, making him shiver because he was still so sensitive. But at the same time, all he wanted was to ruin you like you had ruined him. 

“- Feeling better baby ?”

Your cocky smile was whipped off your face as soon as Seungmin thrusted his hips up, meeting yours and making you moan. 

“- Would feel better if I was free.

- You’ve been a good boy, so I guess I can untie you, hm ?”

Seungmin's eyes followed every one of your moves as you got up - holding back a sigh when he lost the feeling of your hot pussy around him - to get the keys and open the handcuffs. As soon as his wrists were free, he threw you on the mattress, making you gasp. A gasp that was quickly replaced by his name as he filled you up to the brim again.

“- That’s it pretty, scream my name again.”

You couldn’t have formed a coherent sentence even if you wanted to. Your nails were digging in the skin of his back as Seungmin was pounding into you roughly, losing himself in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. It was too much for his sensitive cock, but at the same time all he wanted was more. More of your moans, more of your pussy, more of your skin, more of you. 

“- Aah ! Min ! Min, I need more please !”

A low grunt escaped his mouth as he stood up on his knees, pushing your legs flush against your chest and giving him an heavenly sight of your glistening pussy, full of his cock and cum. Seungmin picked up his pace, making you grasp the sheets beside your head to try and ground yourself in reality. 

 “- You need more ? Then beg for it.

- Please, please, please Min…”

Seungmin hummed when he squeezed your thighs, guiding you to wrap them around his waist, the new position making you moan louder. He loved when you were taking control of him like you did, but the best part was when he got you begging for his cock. 

“- Come on baby, I know you can do way better than that.

- I want you to fill me up with your cum, need you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow… Please Seungmin, please baby… I want you to make me cum on that big cock… Please…

- That’s a lot better…”

With that being said, he sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, making you see stars each time he was hitting that sensitive spot inside of you. Seungmin knew your body like the back of his hand by now, knowing exactly what he needed to do to make you feel good, what he needed to do to make you cum. But he didn’t, simply keeping his pace and fucking your roughly, and it was not enough. He knew what could bring you to the edge, he was just teasing you, making you whimper. 

“- Now what’s that baby ? Is it not enough for you ?

- Yes ! Yes, I need more please…

- So desperate for my cock, that’s cute.”

You wanted to kiss away his smirk, make him remember how he was crying under your touch just a few minutes ago, make him remember how pathetic he looked, begging for you to let him cum - oh, how the tables have turned. But soon enough, his fingers finally found your clit, circling around it and applying just the right amount of pressure to make you cry out his name. Tears spilled out of your closed eyes as your orgasm washed over you, clenching so hard on Seungmin’s dick that he couldn’t move anymore, cumming deep inside of your cunt from the lustful vision of your ruined body. Some high-pitched moans escaped his mouth as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, savouring his much needed relief. 

“- I’m never doing this again.”

You chuckled lightly at his remark, trying to sit up and go wash yourself even if you were spent and just wanted to sleep at the moment. But Seunmgin didn’t move the slightest bit, on the contrary, he wrapped his arms around your waist, still buried inside of you. 

“- Can we stay like this a little longer ? I missed you y/n…”

You smiled to yourself as you let one of your hands plunge in his messy hair, the fingers of the other one tracing random patterns on his back. Seungmin rarely expressed his feelings so clearly to you, and that didn’t bother you at all - you understood very well that it was something he was not so comfortable with. But when he did share his thoughts with you, it made you melt on the spot. 

“- I missed you too Min.” 

Maybe it wasn’t the traditional way, but it was his way of saying he loved you, and you were more than happy to reciprocate his confession. 

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

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[finelinevogue]

Hiii, I love ur work and I’m so down bad for Hotch rn :) I was wondering if you could write something like he’s always opening doors for her or pulling out her seat and just cute littler mannerisms he does for his BAU gf :)❤️

omg hi thank you so much my lovely! i’m so in love with this ask tysm!! <3

pairing - aaron hotchner x girlfriend!reader

word count - +1k

Aaron Hotchner’s love language was acts of service.

He wasn’t very confident with his words, having historically always managed to say the wrong things to the people closest to him.

What Aaron hadn’t quite understood, however, was that his actions were often ten times louder than his words. He didn’t have to constantly reassure you he loved you in words, because he was always doing something to show you he did.

1. He holds the doors open for you

It had been moving office day.

You were struggling to balance all your boxes in your arms at the same time as looking over them to watch where you’re going.

After climbing up the stairs from the third floor to the fourth floor, you came across the glass doors to enter the main office area.

“Sorry, excuse me…” You said as a man walked past, but he didn’t stop.

“Hi, sorry to bother you…” A woman walked by but didn’t stop either.

You sighed, trying to peer for where the door handle was without dropping anything.

Luckily your new boss, and boyfriend, came to your rescue.

“Honey, careful. What are you trying to do?” Hotch appeared at your side, taking off a box from the top of your pile and opening the door all in one sweep.

He held the door open for you to walk through first, looking over you to make sure you’re okay.

“Everyone’s clearly having an off day. No one would help me open the door, even when I asked politely.” You pouted.

“Give me names.” Hotch said seriously as you walked through the door.

“Aaron…”

“Names, please.”

2. He peels your oranges

It had been a weekend and you and Aaron hadn’t been on a case, so you were both enjoying some time together at home.

Aaron had just asked you to pause the movie you’d been watching whilst he went and got you both a snack.

He had been gone too long now and so you had to investigate - like the special agent you are.

“Aaron? Love?” You called out.

You walked into the kitchen to find him stood behind the counter, peeling an orange - your favourite fruit.

There was a little bowl of melted chocolate and a little bowl of strawberries which had been cut and sliced the way you like.

He continued to peel the orange and take off all the white stringy bits, the way he knew you liked it to be. It made it easy to eat for you without getting your hands the slightest bit messy.

“Honey.” You pouted with loving eyes.

He was just the best.

“What?” He smirked, showing off a dimple he only reserved for you.

“You know what.” You said, rounding the counter to hug him from behind. You held him tight, squeezing your love into him the best you could.

You loved and appreciated him so much and after everything he does for you, a hug was the least he deserved.

3. He warms your clothes

An odd act of affection that Aaron does that you love is when he warms your clothes.

You remember one time when you had gone to visit a friend after work and had come home late all you could think about was having a cup of tea, getting into your pyjamas and going to bed.

Luckily your boyfriend knew you all too well and had prepared.

You’d come home and everything was ready.

You dropped your keys on the kitchen counter with an exhausted sigh of relief.

Your boyfriend walked into the room moments later, empty cup of coffee in his hand ready to wash. How he drinks coffee this late you’ll never try to understand.

“Hey.” You smiled tiredly.

Aaron rounded the counter and leant down to give you a kiss. It was slow and sweet, feeling like you have all the time in the world when you’re in your home together.

“Hey.” He pulled away to kiss your forehead. “How was Claire?”

“Oh you know? Marital troubles as usual.”

“No. I don’t know.” Aaron washed out his cup as he spoke, giving you a hearty smile.

“And you never will know marital troubles if you keep washing your dishes like that.” You cheekily slapped his ass and he gave you a chuckle in response.

Just before you could leave the room Aaron called your name.

“Your clothes are on the radiator to keep them warm and there’s a tea on your bedside table.”

You just stared at him whilst he dried his now clean mug - it was the one you had bought him as one of the first gifts you gave him, because back then you didn’t want to seem like you were coming on too strong.

It almost made you want to cry with how thoughtful he was. Keeping your clothes warm and making you a tea were kind of the bare minimum in societies books, but in yours it was the mark of true love and going above and beyond.

“Aaron, baby?”

“Yeah?”

“If that was your way of proposing, then yes I’ll marry you.”

4. PDA

If there was one thing that Aaron hated, it was PDA. Which is why it was all the more special when it did happen.

You remember this one time where you were on your way back from a case and on the jet.

“I don’t get why you two don’t share a hotel room when we’re on a case? You’d save the Bureau hundreds.” Morgan said, from where he was sat across from Hotch.

Morgan had noticed that Hotch kept looking at your uncomfortable frame trying to get some sleep on the chair next to him. It really was killing Hotch not to help you.

Hotch looked up at Morgan.

“We discussed it with HR. They said it wasn’t workplace appropriate.” Hotch answered in the most cryptic way possible.

“Mhm.”

“Doesn’t stop them from sneaking into each others rooms like a pair of coming-of-age teenagers.” Emily joked, but she was more a less correct.

“What HR doesn’t know, they don’t know.” Hotch said and that shut down that conversation.

“Well they won’t know if you hold her to sleep then either, will they boss man?” Morgan suggested, before getting up from the chairs and going to sit on the sofa with Reid.

Hotch looked over your trying-to-sleep body.

You had heard the entire conversation, but had been too tired to open your eyes or contribute in any way.

It was only when you felt your boyfriends hands move the arm rest up between you both that you became restless.

“C’mon.” He spoke softly to you.

His hands helped guide you to move in your chair, until your body was angled back against Hotch’s side.

One of his arms came around your body to hold you in place securely against him. The other came to hold your hand in his, making sure you were tightly held for comfort more than anything.

“Love you.” He whispered into your hairline.

“Mm.” You responded, too tired to form a coherent response but Aaron knew what you meant nevertheless. He always did.

[killerlookz]

hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

[midnight-mourning]

Sugary Sweet

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 5❄️❄️

ough, this was supposed to be late night but had a lot to say and was too sleepy to finish saying it, thank being said, hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun with it

Prompt: Reader moon and sun making those Walmart sugar cookies (like the ones with the trees on them) and hot cocoa in a warm cozy house 👀

Word Count: 1704

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Alright,"—You set several grocery bags down on the counter—"Are you ready?"

Sun nods, then salutes. "As I'll ever be!"

"Oven's on?" You ask.

"425 Fahrenheit!"

A nod. "Christmas playlist at the ready?"

He presses the button on your speaker, flooding the room with music. "Playing now!"

"And we have all our supplies?"

"3 containers of sprinkles, 5 different icings, several various candies for toppings, baking sheets, and of course—" He dumps one of the grocery bags on the counter, then another, and one final third bag as well. "—15 boxes of ready to bake cookies!"

You nod. "Okay, let's get to it then, we've got, a lot, of baking to do."

When you'd first proposed the idea of baking cookies, the Attendant had been thrilled. When you'd found however, the amount of cookies they'd wanted to make—to give out throughout the neighborhood—you'd curve the idea from making cookies to instead, getting premade and decorating them, which seemed to be just as exciting.

After a quick run to the store, you were now here, placing disks of dough across multiple baking sheets. Your oven could only handle two trays at a time, so you were probably going to be in here until late tonight, but you didn't mind. It was the weekend, and it was cold and snowy outside, so you had no place you'd rather be. 

Not to mention, since the daycare attendant had moved into your home, you hadn't gotten to spend much time together. Which, one would think would in fact quell the crush that you'd been developing since long before everything that happened, but it was in fact quite the opposite. 

You'd run into one of them in the hallway, and while the close proximity was nothing you weren't used to before, now with the added factor they were living in your house, it flustered you, to say the least. Sun's quiet giggle or Moon's soft chuckle making your heart race. 

Or sitting on the couch together while you watched TV. You were sure the casual cuddling didn't mean anything, but it certainly made you feel something. Like when Moon's arm rested on your shoulder, or his sunny counterpart covering you both with the too small throw you had, forcing you to sit closer to relax comfortably. 

Or something like making dinner, chatting away with one of the two as you worked together on a meal only you would be enjoying. Not too dissimilar to now. 

"Whatcha thinking about?"

You look up from decorating one of your cookies. The first two batches having come out of the oven just a little bit ago. 

You smile and shake your head. "Nothing important. How's your little army of snowmen coming along?"

"Splendid!" Sun replies. "I think adding sprinkles really makes them pop!"

You stand on your tiptoes to peer at the side of the counter across from you where he's hard at work. "Oh wow, yeah. Nice work."

"Thank you~ And how are your efforts going?"

You cringe, not even wanting to move back out of the way so he can see your cookies. "Oh, it's... going."

You'd just been adding small dots of icing and such to give your reindeer hats and scarves. Very poorly drawn hats and scarves. Which, to be fair, you're not an artist as is, you think trying to draw with icing is a feat in and of itself. 

"Let me see!" Before you can react, Sun's leaning over his side of the kitchen island, and being much taller than you, can see over you and down at your cookies easily. "Well done Starshine! Those look great."

Suddenly, he shifts back so that you're now only a few inches apart, meeting in the middle of the counter essentially, eye to eye. 

"Hi." You say, unsure of what to do. 

His faceplate spins once, twice, "Hello, —"

"What was that?" You hadn't caught the end of his sentence, murmured too quietly for you to pick up.

Sun's eyes widen and then he leans backwards to stand upright again, clapping his hands. "Nothing important! We have work to do, right?"

You try to ignore the warmth on your cheeks and cough, falling back on your heels. "Right."

You do your best to forget the moment, and sometime later something else happens that makes the strange feeling in your chest grow that much larger. 

You're about halfway done now, and throughout your baking session you've been finding yourself to be more and more aware of Sun's actions. 

The glances you'd catch every now and again between each other or the random touches when you both reached for the same icing. His hand on your shoulder while he set your hot coco down in front of you, lingering for just a moment beside you before returning to his side of the counter to decorate. 

To say you felt like you were being a bit delusional about it all was an understatement. As much like every other interaction you had with Sun—and Moon—on a daily basis, you assumed you were reading far too much into it. 

That was, until then unexpected happened. 

Accidentally, when reaching for sprinkles, the icing you'd gotten on your hand had gotten onto Sun's as he reached for the same container. 

"Oh! Shoot, I'm sorry,"—you look around for a towel—"Here let me—"

Before you can do anything else, you find that there's now more icing on the top of your hand. Glancing up, you see Sun's face is turned up and away, pretending to whistle a tune. 

You feel a grin split across your features. You take another dollop of icing, and reach across the counter to get him back, but miss as he steps back out of the way. You try again, and his quiet chuckle only eggs you on further. 

Finally you get frustrated enough to try and chase him around the counter, managing to swipe his arm. Sun spins around and, after arming himself with an entire spoonful of the stuff. 

You both stand frozen for a moment. Then he takes a step. Then another. 

You struggle to contain your giggles. "No, don't you dare."

He laughs again, and keeps moving toward you. 

You panic, and laughing start to race around the counter as he follows after you. You fake each other out a few times before he tricks you, managing to snatch your wrist and spin you into his grasp. Back to his chest you look up at his cheeky stare, waiting for the worst with eyes wide. 

"Boop." He places a dollop of icing on the end of your nose. 

You go cross-eyed trying to look at it and he giggles, arms shifting to wrap around you. 

Your hands come up to rest on his forearms, not sure what to do. 

"You're really cute like this." He says, more to himself, after a moment. "It makes me want to—" He stops. Then looks away, hold faltering, "I'm sorry I, I know you're not..." 

When you realize he's not going to say anything else, you reach one hand up to cup his chin, turning his face back down to look at you. Your other hand finds one of his and squeezes it. 

"Do it." You say. "Whatever it is, do it. Please."

Sun's rays spin at this, and he nods slightly. Craning his neck down, his smile meets your lips, and you melt instantly. 

It's a brief kiss, but it's soft, tender. He pulls away after a moment. 

"You've got a little something on your face." You muse. The icing from before now smeared on his faceplate. 

He seems to only half hear you, if at all. "Maybe you should fix that..."

You giggle, and he seems to realize what he's saying. 

Sometime later, after a bit of cleanup and a heartfelt discussion. You're sitting in front of the oven, watching the last of the cookies bake. 

It was dark out now, and you had only the glow of the oven to see by. Not that you minded, as after your chat you had now acquired not just one, but two robot boyfriends. One of which was sitting beside you currently, holding your hand as you sip hot coco. 

"I had a lot of fun today." You say, turning to him. 

Moon chuckles, "With which part? The decorating or the kissing?"

"Hey, there was only a little bit of kissing." You scoff, but can feel your ears burning. 

Quiet between the two of you, just the humming of the oven and the sound of your heating system in the background. 

"We had assumed that you simply weren't interested."

You twist to face him. "How could I not be?" You smile, confused. 

Moon's faceplate twists, staring at you a moment. 

"Star, we've been actively flirting with you since the moment you walked into the Daycare."

You blink once, twice. "Excuse me?"

"Did, were we not—" Moon stops, clearly baffled. "You didn't know?"

You briefly think back on all the times you'd shot down the idea that the attendant had been flirting with you, and a horrible sense of realization overtakes you, hand coming up to your mouth. "Oh no."

At this, Moon starts to snicker, then it becomes a full blow laugh. As it rises in volume you sputter, face on fire. You reach out to smack his arm and miss, falling forward into his lap. 

His laughter cuts off and you just stare at each other. 

You speak up. "Well, you going to hold me or not? Since I'm so otherwise oblivious."

His faceplate spins rapidly, and you're quickly pulled into his lap properly, facing each other. 

Just as he's about to kiss you, the timer goes off for the cookies, halting any chance of that happening. 

It should, anyway. "Hold on, let's get those out first."

"They can wait. I heard Mrs. Walters likes her cookies crispy." Moon states, leaning back in. 

You protest about it greatly, but a smattering kisses distracts you for a little longer. Though only a little. While tempting for the smallest of seconds, you'd rather not let store-bought cookies be the reason your kitchen burns down. 

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you for the lovely request @buzzybee3 I may have went a little wild with it 😅 Still I hope you enjoyed!! Triggered a childhood memory of making cookies hehe ^_^

If you're interested in requesting, you have until 12/13 OR until I recieve 31 requests, currently only have about 14 so feel free to request if you haven't already! See here for more details, thanks for reading!

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Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[minnies-puppydoll]

Could you maybe do one of seungmin getting mad at you in public for wearing revealing clothes, ty!

Seungmin Drabble #1

*~Disobeying Dom Seungmin~*

pairing: hard dom!seungmin x sub!reader

warnings: MEANIE PANTS SEUNG! no smut but very suggestive, lots of degredation, reader is called a bitch, i think thats it.

note: personally…i could never disobey him but thats just me🐶 good luck with that tho!

heres ur order!! smut under the cut!!!!!!!!!!!

it was going to be a perfect night. your boyfriend seungmin finally got reservations for that fancy, expensive diner you’ve been dying to go to.

the only problem was..you were running a little late.

you took a nice, long shower beforehand, using all the scents you know he loves on you. laying out three different dresses on your bed, you quickly tried to decide which one would be the best fit for tonight’s important date.

one was grey, and wrapped your body elegantly with silk fabric. the second was light pink, with a high cut waist and a frilly bottom, seungmin loves that one. and the third…oh.

seungmin hates this dress. he specifically told you not to wear it in public anymore. its was a black, hollow out dress with sheer fabric and strings where there wasn’t your boobs or your ass showing. nothing different than a stripper dress.

now, you know seungmin better than anyone. and when he says he hates that dress, its not because its ugly in any way, shape, or form. no. the way you look in that dress could make even him fall to his knees for you.

it’s because of the attention it brings to HIS precious girl. seungmin isn’t an insecure man either, he obviously wants to show you off on his arm when you get all dolled up for him, but with THAT dress? you couldn’t even get a few feet away from him without being approached or even made a pass at.

he knows you would never leave him for another guy, he just can’t stand people sizing up his pretty little prey like wild beasts. so, you aren’t allowed to wear it per his rules, fine. but honestly, you’ve always wondered what would happen if you disobeyed him.

so..maybe you wore the dress anyway..how bad could this go, right? now the problem was, how to get there.

normally he would pick you up in his car, but you know for a fact he would make you change immediately. so that was out. maybe you could just text him?

minnieeee?

hi, sweet baby🩷 you ready to be picked up?

uhhh

hm?

actually min, can i drive myself and meet you there? i have a suprise for you.

uh oh.

WDYM UH OH

that can’t be good. you’re scaring me💀

ITS JUST A SUPRISE OKAY

…its the dress isn’t it?

..no actually! its a secret so you’ll know when i get there so i actually have to go now and walk my fish see you soon love you bye-

we’ll see.

your nerves are alight as you pull into the parking lot, biting your lip in fear and arousal at how seungmin will deal with you. you’ve never disobeyed him before, always wanting to recieve his sparing praise and not cause a fuss.

your heels click against the floor as you step into the new diner, looking like the most expensive thing there. the confidence you’re radiating is only surface level though, the truth is, if you had a tail right now it would be tightly tucked between your legs.

when the host tells you where seungmin is sitting, you hesitantly make your way over. he is indeed there, he smiles at you sweetly before looking down at that dress. that stupid fucking dress.

he looks back up into your eyes with a dissapointed, mean glare in his. if you were at home, that look would have you begging for forgiveness. you immediately look down, shying away from his gaze as you put your purse down and bow slightly at him.

“hey, seungmin..”

“sit down.”

the demand has you plopping down in your seat without hesitation. his tone is clear and calm, but equally cold.

“i thought i told you not to wear that dress. hm? or are you just too dumb and slutty to remember my rules?

oh. his harsh words make your thighs rub together, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“m’sorry..”

“sorry what.”

“so..so sorry, sir.”

“look at you. i do all these nice things for you, give you all my attention and look where it gets me. is my attention not enough? need it from the other manwhores here? i think you’re just too much of a slut to be thankful.”

his words have bite, making you equally feel bad for disobeying and almost drool from the degradation.

“yes sir, im a slut, sir.”

“i know you are.”

“just..wanted to see what you’d do..”

“want a punishment? is that what the dumb whore wants? hm?”

“um..depends what it is?”

“you don’t get to choose, stupid.”

“…well, what are you gonna do then?”

seungmin leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and looking at you with an amused expression. only this time do you meet his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly. seungmin scoffs.

“don’t fucking look at me.”

your eyes shoot down, just listening to him obediently. he leans forward to whisper in your ear.

“..when we get home, im ripping that slutty stripper dress off of you for good this time. then, im gonna muzzle you and make you beg for me to pound that slutty pussy like a good bitch. then lastly..you’re writing lines, sweetheart.”

sorry for ending it there..u just look so cute when ur teased<3 order again soon!🐶

[cosmiclily]

For the writers block: I hope this is okay to request this kind of snippet but I think this idea is very cute. -🎸

It’s raining and Vi plus reader are coming out of a bakery with fresh strawberry muffins, a dog catches a whiff of the delicious muffin and chases them in the rain running away from said dog, Vi throws a muffin so far the dog leaves them alone and they run again not trying to find out if that dog will come back for them. The both of them find some sanctuary away from the rain and the dog. So out of breath laughing at their exhausted faces and taking a long look at each finally kissing. They sit somewhere dry and eat their muffins peacefully listening to drips that hit the ground.

“Thank Janna, for the rain” - I just realized I basically just wrote a lil mini story but like I feel like if you tweaked it, it could be better, it would be softer like the way you write the both of them is refreshing ✨

You don’t have to use this if you don’t want to at alll

“thank janna, for the rain.”

• vi x reader

wc: 1.4k

notes: i’m on a fluffy roll, this is the cutest thing i’ve ever written. thank you so much for the request!!! i loved writing this 💕

I met Vi through a mutual friend, and the first time we ever saw each other, I was helping that friend puke outside a frat party. Vi stepped in to help me get our friend home, and before parting ways, we exchanged numbers so she could check in on us later.

After that day, we started talking—constantly texting, sharing random thoughts, late-night confessions, and jokes that only made sense to us. It felt effortless, like we’d known each other for years. But every time we tried to go on an actual date, something went wrong. It was almost comical, like the universe had a twisted sense of humor.

The first time, we planned a simple outing to the park. The day we scheduled it, the skies decided to punish us for no reason, unleashing a torrential downpour that flooded half the city.

The second attempt was at a restaurant everyone was raving about. We were excited, certain nothing could go wrong with a reservation. But on the very day we were supposed to go, they suddenly announced a temporary closure due to “unforeseen circumstances.”

The third time, Vi got hurt—badly—during a hockey game. She took a nasty fall, ended up with a sprained wrist and a trip to the hospital.

Now, we were trying for the fourth time.

“I don’t care if it rains, if the café catches on fire, or if a piano falls on my head. We are going out!” Vi declared over the phone, determination radiating through her voice as we both got ready for our date.

“Don’t put those things out there; they might actually happen,” I replied, half-joking but also slightly paranoid. At this point, I didn’t want to take any chances.

Vi laughed on the other end of the line, that warm, effortless sound that always made me smile, even when I was trying to be serious.

“If a piano falls on my head, at least I’ll die knowing we tried,” she teased, her voice full of that stubborn charm I’d grown to adore.

“Yeah, well, if you die, that’s going to make date number five even more complicated,” I shot back, slipping on my jacket and checking my reflection one last time. My heart was racing—not just because of the string of bad luck, but because this time felt different. Like it might actually happen.

We hung up with promises to see each other soon, and as I stepped outside, I held my breath, half-expecting the sky to open up or a rogue piano to come crashing down from the heavens. But the air was calm, the streets dry, and for once, nothing catastrophic seemed to be on the horizon.

When I arrived at the café, I spotted Vi instantly. She was leaning against the doorframe, scrolling through her phone, her pink hair slightly messy from the wind and a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She looked up, our eyes met, and just like that—everything felt right.

No storms. No sudden closures. No injuries. Just us.

“You made it,” she said with a grin, as if she didn’t quite believe it herself.

“We made it,” I corrected, walking up to her.

We stepped into the café, the warm scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries wrapping around us like a cozy blanket. We ordered, found a small table by the window, and sat down. Everything felt calm, effortless—like the universe had finally decided to cut us some slack. The date was perfect, just the way I had imagined it.

Vi had this awkward sense of humor that never failed to make me laugh, the kind that sneaks up on you, catching you off guard in the best way. She’d say something completely ridiculous with a straight face, and it would hit me a second later, leaving me in stitches. And God, she was the prettiest girl I’d ever seen—like she didn’t even have to try. It wasn’t just her looks; it was the way she carried herself, unapologetically real, with a spark in her eyes that made everything around her seem a little brighter.

After we’d finished our drinks, Vi leaned back in her chair, that familiar grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“We could get some muffins and coffees to go, then head to that park I was telling you about. I really think you’d like it,” she suggested, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

And that’s exactly what we did. We ordered a couple of strawberry muffins, grabbed our drinks of choice, and set off toward the park. The walk was perfect—easy conversation, hands brushing occasionally, stolen glances that made my heart race. It felt like everything was finally falling into place.

Until that stupid dog showed up.

Out of nowhere, this scrappy little thing came barreling toward us, barking like we’d personally wronged it in a past life. Its eyes locked onto me with what I can only describe as pure, unfiltered hatred. Like it had been waiting its whole dog life for this exact moment.

And as if that wasn’t enough, the universe—clearly bored with our happiness—decided to spice things up. Dark clouds rolled in out of nowhere, and within seconds, fat, cold raindrops started pelting us.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yelled at the sky, my arms thrown up in frustration as the rain soaked through my clothes.

Vi burst out laughing. Not just a little giggle, but a full-on, doubled-over, can’t-catch-her-breath kind of laugh. She was drenched, her hair sticking to her face, mascara smudging just a little, and she’d never looked more beautiful.

Her laughter was infectious. I tried to stay mad—I really did—but it was impossible. Soon enough, I was laughing too, standing there in the middle of the downpour, trying to shield the box of muffins in one hand and my heart in the other.

“Here, let me take this,” Vi said, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she reached for the box. Without hesitation, she popped it open, grabbed one of our precious strawberry muffins, and chucked it toward the ugly little dog like it was some kind of sacrificial offering.

The dog’s attitude shifted instantly. It sprinted after the muffin with the kind of determination it had previously reserved for us, leaving us blessedly alone.

“My savior!” I exclaimed dramatically, throwing my arms around Vi’s neck and planting a wet, exaggerated kiss on her cheek. My lips met cold skin, damp from the rain, but her warmth still bled through, making me forget just how soaked we both were.

She laughed again, gripping my hands with a firm, playful squeeze before pulling me along. “Come on, Romeo. Before we melt.”

She led me toward a small gazebo nearby, tucked just at the edge of what I assumed was the park we were supposed to be going to. The rain hammered against the roof like it had something to prove, but under the shelter, it was just us—breathless, dripping, and still laughing.

Vi set the slightly damp muffin box on the bench and turned to me, her hair a mess of wet strands sticking to her face, her cheeks flushed from both the cold and the laughter. She didn’t bother to fix it, and honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted her to. She was perfect just like that.

“Well,” she said, brushing water from her forehead with the back of her hand, “this wasn’t exactly the plan.”

“Yeah, but when have our plans ever worked out?” I replied, stepping closer, our soaked shoes squeaking slightly against the wooden floor.

She smirked, tilting her head. “Fair point.”

The air between us shifted—still light, still filled with laughter, but underneath it was something else. My heart was racing again, but for a completely different reason this time. I reached up, gently tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering just a second longer than they needed to.

She didn’t pull away.

Instead, she leaned in, her smile fading into something softer, something that made the world feel like it was holding its breath. And then she kissed me—soft at first, like she was testing the waters, then deeper, like she’d been waiting for this as long as I had.

The rain kept falling, the universe still doing its chaotic thing, but none of it mattered. In that moment, it was just us—messy, soaked, laughing—and somehow, perfectly right.

“Thank Janna, for the rain.”

──────────────────────

masterlist

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

Chapter tags: drunk parent, abusive behavior, physical abuse (slap across the face)

Read below or on ao3

Day 2: 1993

“Before you go today, I have a bit of homework for you all.”

Mrs. Davidson was met with a classroom of groans.

“I know, I know,” she said, “but this is a fun one, I promise. Over Christmas break, I want you guys to write about your dream Christmas when you grow up. If you could choose anyway to celebrate, what would you do? Who would you be with? How many presents would you want under the tree? What foods would you cook? You can write it as a list, or a story, or an essay. However you want. Just make sure you write something.”

She looked at the time on her watch. “Alright, the bell is about to ring, so you can start gathering up your things. I hope you all have a very merry Christmas, and I will see you all in 1994!”

*****

Tommy slammed his door shut, locking it quickly before his dad could reach for the knob.

It had been a terrible day. The worst Christmas of Tommy's life, he was sure.

Michael spent every Christmas out at the bar, drinking the day away. He'd come home at night, usually, and spew out a few angry words before passing out on the couch.

But the bar he always went to decided to close this year for Christmas.

A part of Tommy had been excited. His dad would get to watch him open his presents for the first time!

It didn't quite work out that way though.

Instead, Michael had gone to the store on Christmas Eve and bought two cases of beer. He'd started drinking that night. Turns out, before he got to the point of passing out, he was loud. So damn loud.

Tommy spent half the night waking up up to bottles clanging, or his dad yelling at the TV.

By the time the sun started coming up, things had quieted down. Tommy crept down the hall to see his dad sprawled out on the couch. One arm flopped down the side of the couch, the other halfway down his pants.

He looked over at the tree where, at some point during the night, nearly half their ornaments had fallen off of it. Michael was known to dance with inanimate objects when he got drunk, so that's what Tommy figured had happened.

“Tommy,” his mom whispered from behind him. He turned to see his mom peeking out of the bedroom. She looked as tired as Tommy felt. She had dark circles under her eyes and had lost so much weight that she nearly swam in her size small nightgown. Her smile didn't reach her eyes anymore.

Still, she beckoned Tommy to her. “I kept your presents in here, Baby,” she said as he came into the room. “Didn't want to put them under the tree last night with your dad.”

She shut the door behind Tommy and locked it. “You sit on the bed,” she instructed, going into the closet.

He did as he was told, still feeling just as excited to have his presents in the bedroom instead of in the living room next to the tree.

She came out of the closet with three gifts in her hands, smiling as she handed them to him. “I couldn't get everything you asked for,” she said, kneeling down on the floor to watch him open, “but I think you'll like it.”

He smiled back at her, taking a deep breath. He always needed a moment before he opened his gifts. He'd get so happy it sometimes felt hard to breathe.

The first gift was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajamas. Tommy had seen them at the mall one day and begged for them, but Vicky had told him no. He'd been so upset, having no idea she already had them stored away for Christmas.

The next gift was a remote controlled monster truck. His eyes had gone super wide with that one! He hadn't expected it at all. He couldn't wait to get outside and play.

The third present was an art set. Tommy had gotten into drawing dinosaurs and zombies lately, and Vicky wanted to make sure he kept drawing.

As soon as he was done opening his presents, he wrapped his mom in a big hug, thanked her, then asked if he could go outside and play.

“Just make sure you're quite when you're in the living room, okay? Shut the door gently.”

With a promise, and one more hug, Tommy had been on his way.

Everything was fine until Tommy got back home. He was smiling up until he reached the top step and heard his parents arguing through the door. He wanted to turn around. Leave for a few more hours and come back.

It was too late though. His dad saw him through the window and came straight to the door, tossing it open and all but yelling for him to come inside.

“I was here for you, Tommy!” he exclaimed, his words slurred as usual. “Here ta watch you and you didn't even let me!”

“Michael, he has no idea what you're talking about,” Vicky replied. Her voice stayed calm, measured... tired.

“Well 'e should! I stay home to watch my boy open 'is gifts an I don't even getta see it!”

“I thought you stayed home because the bar was closed today?” Tommy questioned. He knew right away that was the wrong thing to say.

His dad came over and jerked the remote controlled car from his hands.

Vicky sighed. “Don't break it,” she said, already walking over to get it from him.

He pointed down at Tommy once Vicky had taken the car. “You'll get it back once you apologize,” he said, teeth nearly gritting together.

His day was already ruined, and it was all his dad's fault.

Tommy was angry.

“Apologize for what?” he asked, matching his dad's glare.

“For being dis- dis- disrespectful!” Michael exclaimed.

“I wasn't being disrespectful!” Tommy fought back.

“Tommy,” Vicky warned.

“Hey! I loved you 'nough to stay home and see my boy op'n gifts!”

“You don't love me!”

The back of Michael's hand met his face so hard, and so fast, that Tommy stumbled backward before falling flat on his butt.

His dad had never hit him before.

He'd gotten angry. That happened a lot.

But he'd never hit him.

“Tommy!” Vicky exclaimed, hurrying over to him. Before she could even reach out and check on him, he was flying to his feet and running down the hall to his room.

He heard footsteps behind him. Knew it was his dad. But he slammed the door and locked it.

Michael banged on the door a few times. Begging for Tommy to open it, let him talk to him. The slap seemed to sober him up pretty quickly.

Tommy ignored him. Brought a hand to his face, touching it gently. His cheek felt like it was on fire. He moved his jaw around, trying to loosen it up a bit.

Once Michael gave up at his door, Tommy walked over to his desk and sat down. His eyes stung as he grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper and started on his homework.

One day I will have my own house. I will have a family. We will celabrate Christmas. We will be happy. Maybe mom can come be at my house with me. We will have lots of food on a big table. We will laugh and play games. My dad will not be there or he will be there but be diferent. Christmas will be like it is in the movies with people smiling and there will be lots of snow. I just want a grate day where mom doesn't feel sad. I will get my kids whatever they want and tell them it was Santa. I wish I still beleived in Santa. I will also have big monster trucks in my front yard and a big pile of dirt to play in. That is a prefect Christmas.

He stayed in his room the rest of the day, using his new art set to draw a make believe land where the monster didn't win.

*****

On his first day back at school, Tommy overheard a few kids in his class talking about what they wrote for their assignment.

“I said that one day I'd live in a big, huge mansion with like fifty cars and I'd get even more cars for Christmas, and I'd drive them wherever I wanted to go,” one boy said.

“Well, I wrote that when I'm older I will make Christmas a whole month and people will have to give me presents every single day.”

“I wrote about the food my mom and dad cook and how when I'm older they can't tell me not to get more dessert. I can just eat, eat, eat whatever I want! It'll be great.”

One of the kids turned back and looked at Tommy. “What'd you say?” they asked.

“Oh, um, I- I forgot to do it,” he replied. Before class began he reached into his backpack and took out his paper, crumbling it up into a ball and tossing it in the trash.

He didn't care if he got an F. Christmas was stupid anyway.

[sometimesanalice]

oooo okay i have a prompt 💁🏼‍♀️ for the au version of bradley and sweet girl (and the little nugget!):

❝  well,  i do feel a little better now that you’re here.  ❞

Jordan! You know how soft I am about them! (in every universe, but especially that one!) I hope you like this! 🫶🏼

You will never not be happy to see Bradley Bradshaw, but seeing him walk though the open door of the in-progress nursery might be the best thing that's happened to you all day.

It's not even the large styrofoam cup you spy in his hand from your favorite milkshake spot, it's just him.

"You look nice," you sniffle from where you're seated on the floor, screws scattered around you like confetti.

"And you look stuck," he says gently, giving you a soft smile. Setting the cup on top of the dresser he'd built for you a few weeks ago. "Need a hand, kid?"

You nod, sure that you look more than a little pitiful right now.

Bradley has to press his lips together to keep from chuckling at just how adorably dejected you look, sitting there with your large bump and splayed legs.

All you'd wanted was to get the crib you'd ordered put together. You were in your third trimester and feeling more than a little useless in your own body. You'd just wanted to prove to yourself that you were still capable of doing things on your own.

And it had been going fine, until you'd accidentally dropped the open bag of screws on the floor. Too many to squat and pick up, you'd carefully lowered yourself down, only to realize you couldn't get yourself back up on your own.

You'd given up after your fifth attempt, teary and frustrated, and called Rooster.

He reaches down with his strong, sure hands to help you up off the ground. Pulling you up so easily, like it's nothing, that you're reminded all over again just how pathetic you've been feeling lately.

"You smell nice too," you say glumly, realizing you haven't showered yet today, as he helps steady you back on your own two feet.

"Stop you're going to make me blush."

"I thought the morning sickness was supposed to go away," you sigh. "But that guy from accounting dropped by my office earlier today, the one I told you about with the bad cologne, and I was nauseous the rest of the day."

His warm, brown eyes remind you of home. And as tough as it had been to uproot your life, it had been worth it to be closer to your best friend and favorite person. You've only been here for a few months, but you already loved San Diego.

Rooster makes a sympathetic sound. "He's the worst."

"He really is. He's also a mansplainer, so that's two strikes against him." You look at Bradley, looking very handsome in the knit polo he was wearing, and feel even more like a wreck in your very oversized tshirt, the hem of your stretchy shorts just barely peeking out from underneath it. "But you didn’t answer, why are you all gussied up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes darting away from you. "I was, uh, on a date with someone Nat knows from her kickboxing classes."

"Oh. Oh no, Rooster. I'm so sorry." More tears flooding your eyes at the guilt of ruining his night. You thought you'd already cried them all out before he'd got there, but apparently you still had more left in you.

Bradley's stomach twists at the sight of your lower lip wobbling, kicking himself for not bending the truth because the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel bad.

"Hey now, woah," he says, cupping your face. "None of that, kid. You rescued me from an awkward date with a woman who was still very clearly hung up on her ex."

"Still, I really am sorry. I don't want my mess to become yours."

He gives you a look you don't know what to make of. "Why didn't you wait for me, kid. I told you I'd swing by this weekend to help with all of this."

Bradley had kept his weekend free for you, not that you'd asked him too. He knew you were stressed about wanting to get the nursery in order, one less thing for you to think about. He was excited to see it come together, was looking forward to hanging up that little felt seagull mobile he'd bought for you as a baby shower gift.

At that godawful dinner, he'd nearly shot out of his chair at the watery warble of your voice, concerned that something had happened to you or the baby. He was more than happy to help, he wanted you to lean on him for these things. You chose to have the baby on your own, without your shitty ex, but that didn't mean you were going to be doing it alone.

"I thought I could handle it. It's just some prefab wood and shit," you huff with agitation. "I wanted to feel useful. But then I dropped the bag of screws and well..." You trial off and just gesture to the spot he'd found you, you'd left the screws on the floor out of spite.

You're just so tired. All the time. Tired and overwhelmed.

The tears fall on their own again, a mix of hormones and emotions. "Bradley, what was I thinking? I'm going to be a mom. This little person is going to depend on me and I couldn't even get off the floor." You're embarrassed when your voice cracks.

"Come here," Bradley murmurs, tugging you to his chest. He holds you as tight as he thinks he can without squishing the baby. The firm, rounded swell of your stomach pressing against his flat one.

You tuck your face into the space at the base of his neck. His woodsy smell more soothing than lavender could ever be.

Rooster runs his hand up and down your back. "You're growing a whole person in there. You need to yourself some slack. You aren't a mess. And that little peanut is going to be so lucky to have you."

You squeeze your eyes tight and nod. Trying to remind yourself that it's ok to be scared, because you also were excited. Excited to meet her, excited to be able to finally hold her, excited to introduce her to your best friend.

You feel your little girl shift and move inside of you. You pull away taking Bradley's hand in yours and setting it over where she's pressing against you, "I think she's happy you're here."

It's something that he doesn't think he'll ever get use to.

"'Course she is," he rasps thickly. "I'm going to be her favorite." He's still holding your hand, not ready to let go. "And you? How do you feel, kid?"

"Well, I do feel a little better now that you’re here too," you tell him, before giving him the first real smile that he's seen from you all night. "Especially since you brought me a milkshake."

He laughs and kisses the side of your head before letting you.

"Who knew you were such an easy girl to please."

You flip him off without heat, as he thumbs off the remainders of the wet tear tracks on your cheeks.

"Thank you, Rooster."

"You know I'm alway here for you," he says, squeezing your shoulder as he goes to fetch your treat.

Once he gets you set up in the oversized chair with your milkshake, he tosses you his phone and puts you on DJ duty while he works on assembling the deep brown wood spindle crib that you'd picked out.

You watch as Bradley double checks each step in the instruction booklet before he moves on to the next one. It's the most studious you've ever seen him, his tongue peeking out every now in then in concentration. The way he takes his time building the crib for your little girl, makes your chest feel warm.

You're both so lucky to have him.

Every now and then he looks over at you as he fits the pieces together. It makes his heart twinge in an unexpected way when he sees you running your hand over your belly, looking down at it with the softest of smiles on your face.

You're going to be such a good mom, he thinks to himself. And he'll be there right by your side. The best Uncle Rooster he can be.

For her, for you.

After all, you've always been his family.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: the mysterious blonde (PART 2)

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: you are gigi’s best friend and you’re working on a project together… but her mysterious brother grayson hawthorne seems to be around every corner lately, it’s like you can’t avoid him… not that you’re complaining because maybe, just maybe you have a little thing for him…

parts: PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

warnings:

a/n: there is a first part to this story, so if I were you I’d check that one out first… and there is also a third part when you finish this one… this part is also very long, so apologies. thank you for reading :)

tag list: there is not tag list but let me know if you want to be on it :)

Gigi and I work on the project for a couple more hours after dinner but when it was getting a little too late I knew I needed to go.

“You know you can just sleep over,” Gigi says.

“I know but I need to get home tonight, maybe another time,” I reply, gathering my things.

“I have a spare toothbrush if that’s what you’re worried about,” she reassured me, “and it’s not been used at all.”

I laugh, she knows me too well, “no it’s not just that but thanks for letting me know. I promise I’ll stay another night just not tonight.”

“Okay,” she pouts, “but I’ll miss you.”

“I’m literally going to see you tomorrow,” I say.

Gigi gasps holding her heart, “no! Not tomorrow! That’s so long away!”

She falls backwards into her bed and plays dead.

I laugh, “you’ll survive.”

She sits up, her wide eyes looking almost impossible to say no to, “It’ll be difficult.”

“You’ll manage,” I chuckle as together we walk down the stairs.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” she asks one last time.

I nod sadly, then notice Savannah in the living room.

I poke my head in, “bye Savannah, see you soon.”

“Bye Y/N,” she winks at me, blowing me a kiss. I pretend to catch in the air and touch my cheek. She grins widely at me and sends me off with a quick wave. I make my way back towards the door, pulling my shoes on. I’m tying my laces when a voice comes from behind me.

“Are you leaving?”

I turn around and there he is. Grayson.

I nod, standing up straight, “gotta get some sleep.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? It’s dark out,” he says, sounding almost concerned. It makes me want to kiss him even more.

“Oh yeah I’ll be find don’t worry,” I curse the words leaving my lips and curse myself for saying them

“I don’t mind taking you back, I’m going back to my home anyway,” he offers again.

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” I smiled shyly, tucking the loose strands of hair out of the way.

“You wouldn’t be,” he murmurs quietly, softly. I almost melt right there and then on the spot but pull myself together quickly to give an appropriate reply.

“It’s okay, I’ve done the journey a thousand times, I’m sure I’ll survive,” I assure him.

Now why the hell did I say that? I mentally kick myself for giving up time with that beautiful thing and make sure I have everything, that’s when I realise what I’m missing.

“Oh shoot, I forgot my jumper,” I groan aloud, knowing I’ll have to take my shoes off and put them back on all over again.

“I’ll go and grab it,” Grayson offers.

“It’s okay I can-“

“No I’ve got it, the grey one right?” he makes sure.

My face flushes, he remebers what I wore, “yeah that one.”

I want to jump up and down and do a happy dance but I manage to stop myself. Feeding into my delusions I convince myself that he definitely memorised the colour of my jumper because he’s madly in love with me not just because he’s a regular person who’s seen me in the last two hours who can recollect the colour of jumper. Grayson returns within a few moments holding my jumper. He walks towards me. It’s probably the closest I’ve been to him all night. It’s only now I notice how nice he smells. Not that I was sniffing him but he was naturally giving off the smell of his cologne, how I hoped to be giving off my perfume.

“Thank you so much,” I smile bashfully as he hands he the jumper. Our hands brush for a fraction of a second and I think my heart stops beating. I know this moment will replay non stop in my mind until there is twelve fanfiction and several movies made about the slightest of contact.

“You’re most welcome,” he says, “it was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah you too,” I reply, “… well goodbye, for now.”

“Goodbye for now,” he repeats, retreating to wherever he came.

I wipe the idiotic grin off of my face and turn back to Gigi, who’d I forgotten was standing there the whole time. And I suddenly felt guilty for that but brushed it off to say my goodbyes. It was then she asked me a question.

“So what did you think of my brother?”

“He seemed nice,” I say, except he was a bit more than nice to me. He was a gentleman who was sweet and really hot and irresistibly poetic. I wanted nothing more than to run my fingers through his golden hair and kiss him with the much passion his lips would burn and his eyes would water… but of course I couldn’t tell Gigi that.

“I think he liked you,” she says,

“What?” I exclaim a little too loudly, my eyes wide, my heart racing in anticipation and excitement and maybe even fear,

“I think he thought you were really nice too and he definitely approves of you as my friend,” she adds.

I’d clearly gotten the wrong end of the stick. Now I felt entirely stupid for believing for a second that someone like him could ever like someone like me.

“Oh,” I say trying to stop my sinking heart and to not sound too disappointed, “that’s good then.”

Gigi nods, “same again tomorrow?”

“You got it girl,” I nod.

She hugs me tightly and kisses my forehead, before softly booping my nose, “see you later alligator.”

I do the same to her, replying with, “in a while crocodile.”

***

That night I lay in my bed and I couldn’t stop thinking about Grayson Hawthorne. Everything about him was on my mind. And oh his voice. It replayed over and over like a broken record but I didn’t care. It actually soothed me, made me feel calmer. I could see in my mind every inch of his perfect face. The exact few flecks of blue in his stormcloud eyes when the light hits them right, the way his eyelashes are darker than his golden hair and the fact that he wore a single silver band on his middle finger.

The next few days I’d go to Gigi’s hoping Grayson would be there too. But the next day he wasn’t, much to my disappointment. Gigi and I worked on the project all through the afternoon and evening and yet he failed to make an appearance. I left feeling somewhat unfulfilled and disappointed. Even though I didn’t see him in person though, I did see him that night. I never dreamed vividly but that night I had the most spectacular dream I’ve ever had. It was like I had some obsessive disorder over the guy, I cared so much he was not infecting my sleep. I’d dreamed of us sitting on a sunset beach in each other’s arms, discussing a future that revolved around our love for one another.

When I wake up suddenly and sit up straight in my bed. I come to a realisation. I just might be in love with Grayson Hawthorne.

***

On Friday, I sleep over, just as I had promised Gigi. After finishing the project and then possibly having a dance party in celebration, we feel straight to sleep in her bed. I am awoken by nothing in particular and roll over. Gigi is still asleep, her limbs spread across the entirety of the bed, even my side, snoring in the most adorable way. I smile and then lay back into my back staring up at the plain, empty ceiling. I decide that I need a cup of tea. I’m comfortable enough with everyone in this house to know that I shouldn’t be shy to make myself a cup of tea in the morning. I was often over at Gigi’s house and everyone living here was constantly reminding me to just grab whatever I wanted when I wanted it. I crawl over Gigi’s body, careful not to land on her or wake her. Not that it would be possible, she was such a deep sleeper, I doubted an earthquake could wake her.

Once I’d made my way out of the bed, I pulled a pair of socks on and left the room. I didn’t bother to brush my hair or wash my face, presuming I’d just walk back up after my tea was ready. I yawn, walking down the stairs lazily, in attempts to get to the kitchen. I slowly grab a mug from the cupboard and put the kettle on to boil.

“Good morning.”

The voice is so surprising that I jump out my skin, screaming aloud. I spin around, clutching my chest, breathing heavily to recover from the initial shock. None other than Grayson Hawthorne is standing behind me shirtless… fucking shirtless. It was 6am in the morning and this man looks like some sort of glowing Greek god in contrast to me who has raccoon eyes and a rat’s nest for hair.

“Sorry if I startled you,” he says soothingly.

I let a breath out, “oh, no worries. Just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

I run my finger through in attempt to tame the knotted mess and quickly brush the sleep from my eyes, suddenly realising I was standing there in my pyjamas. I try and not let my face heat up as I lean on the kitchen side.

“I thought you were only Wednesdays?” I say, tilting my head slightly.

“I wanted to stay for the weekend, my brothers are all off elsewhere and it’s nice to spend some time with my sisters,” he explains.

Suddenly I feel guilty… was I stealing him away from his sisters?

“Sorry if I’m getting in the way,” I say.

“Oh no no no, not like that,” he says quickly, “it’s nice to spend time with you too, I’ve missed so much of their lives so even the little things like getting to know who my sisters friends are, are important moments for me.”

“Oh… thanks…” I reply awkwardly as the kettle finishes boiling, “okay so I’m going to make some tea, care for any?”

“Yes, actually,” he nods, smiling slightly, “I was just going to do that.”

“Do you drink tea a lot?” I ask, trying not to cringe at my own horrible small talk skills.

“A cup every morning,” Grayson replies, “you?”

“Exactly the same,” I smile.

I make the two mugs of tea in silence, feeling his eyes pinned to my every move. It made me nervous that he was staring so intently. I discover that he too only takes a splash of milk in his tea and no sugar. We stand together, leaning on the counters, drinking our cups of tea.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night at dinner,” he says.

“Last night?” I ask, trying to recall the dinner, “oh I’d literally forgotten, it’s okay”

He nods and takes a delicate sip of tea, then begins to say, “Y/N-“

“Morning.”

I turn to see Savannah waking through the door in full sports gear, holding her training bag. Her hair was in a dutch plait the went into a ponytail. She freezes when she sees both me, in my pyjamas, and a shirtless Grayson, standing together drinking tea in her kitchen. Savannah gaze flicks between me and Grayson a few time before narrows her eyes at me. I subtly shake my head, knowing what she was presuming. Her eyebrow quivers upwards but I ignore it.

“Morning,” Grayson replies, “did you sleep okay?”

“Fine,” she says quickly, “I see you two are getting acquainted.”

She stares me down accusingly and I sigh, “yes, well it’s nice to meet my best friends’ brother.”

“Maybe a bit more than nice,” she murmurs under her breath so I can hear but Grayson can’t.

“Not true,” I whisper.

“How long have you been up anyway?” she asks, directing the question at Grayson.

“About half an hour,” he says.

“I’m off to train, see you guys later,” she says, grabbing some food and water before heading out of the door.

Neither me nor Grayson dare to say anything else. Empty space hangs in the air and there’s something we both want to say but are too cowardly to do so.

“She doesn’t like me talking to you,” he says, being the brave one of the two of us.

“Oh?” I question, playing dumb.

“I don’t know why but she doesn’t,” he shrugs.

“Oh that’s a shame,” I say, “does that mean you’re going to stop talking to me?”

“Well I never said that,” Grayson replies, “I’m not someone who does something based on others likes or dislikes and I don’t intend to start today.”

“That’s good then,” I smile, taking another swig of my now lukewarm tea.

He smiles back softly and I hear my heart thumping in my ears. In this moment words aren’t needed, conversation is unnecessary, talking seems silly. Because everything is carried in our eyes and our smiles that we can’t seem to shake. I take in his beauty again and enjoy this silent moment. His eyes and glued to mine and neither of us can seem to physically turn away at this point in time.

Interrupting the moment was a small voice attached to a sleepy face and oversized teddy-bear slippers, “am I the last up?”

Gigi trudged into the kitchen also in her pyjamas, one sleeve falling off of her shoulder. Her loose braids had nearly completely falling out, baby hairs flying everywhere. She looked the most tired out of all of us despite getting the most sleep. Grayson and I immediately turn our eyes away from one another.

“Of course,” I tease her, poking my tongue out.

“Where’s Savannah then?” she counters, arms folded, eyebrows raised.

“At training,” I reply, “you just missed her.”

“Gray? I didn’t realise you were coming so early,” she remarks, finally noticing his presence.

“Savannah let me in,” he says, “I’m going to go and get ready now.”

“Okay, see you later,” she replies, with a lopsided grin.

I watch as he walks out and as he turns back and makes eye contact with me, sending my heart fluttering. Gigi sighs and then picks up a cookbook on the side, “do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Chocolate chip pancakes?”

“You know me so well,” she says, her face breaking out into a wide smile.

“Let’s get cooking,” I say, grabbing the spatula sitting on the side.

***

Gigi and I would like to think of ourselves as somewhat pro chefs when in reality we’d make a mess, have a laugh and produce something somewhat edible. It may not always look edible but it always seemed to taste delicious. This morning our chocolate chip pancakes came out in questionable shapes and sizes but were fluffy and delicious.

“I swear we should enter a cooking show,” Gigi tells me, looking like she’d entered heaven at the first bite.

“And make chocolate chip pancakes?” I chuckle.

“What’s wrong with that? Who doesn’t love choclate chip pancakes,” she replies.

“Judges on cooking shows,” I reply, “besides look how dilapidated they look.”

“But the taste is so good,” she says, her eyes wide, almost bursting with enjoyment.

“That is one thing I can agree with,” I nod, shovelling another forkful of goodness into my mouth.

At that moment Grayson walks in and we pause conversation. He is now dressed in a suit that compliments just about any and every angle of the man. The suit had clearly tailored just to his body type. How could he be so overdressed yet act so casual? As if this were the norm. Maybe it was for him. It certainly was making me and Gigi look very uncouth still in our pyjamas.

“We made pancakes,” Gigi tells him proudly, “you should try them, they’re like eating liquid gold.”

“Liquid gold doesn’t sound all that appetising,” he replies.

Gigi groans, “just try this.”

She stands up and puts a bit of pancake into her brother’s mouth. He has no choice but to try it now. He chews thoughtfully and swallows. And suddenly I’m nervous and I don’t even know why because it’s just a pancake. Just a chocolate chip pancake that I’d baked with my best friend and I was absolutely petrified of what Grayson would think.

“They’re actually really good,” he nods.

I take a breath of relief and feel stupid for feeling so worried over a damn pancake.

“See?” she says.

“I’m going out for a walk,” Grayson tells her, “I’ll be back in in an hour, alright?”

“Okay,” Gigi nods.

“Anyone need anything,” he asks.

“No,” she replies.

“Y/N?”

I startle at my own name and startle even more when I realise he cared enough to ask me.

I look up and smile, praying my blush wasn’t as bold as I felt it was, “no thank you.”

He nods and leaves. I listen as the door shuts and his footsteps fade. When I turn back to Gigi she’s grinning widely and staring right at me.

“What?” I ask her, my tone flat and bored.

“You like him!” she exclaims.

“No I don’t,” I lie.

“How did you know who I was talking about?” she grins, backing me into a corner.

“Because the only ‘him’ around just walked out of this house,” I say, keeping my cool. She could not find out.

“Okay but you like him,” she presses on.

“I don’t Gigi,” I state, more harshly than I’d intended.

“Yes you do!” she tells me.

“Yes I do,” I groan, giving up on keeping this pathetic lie going on any longer.

“Oh my sparkling rainbow gumdrops you like him, you like him, you like him,” she yells, disguarding her beloved pancakes.

“Scream it even louder Gigi I don’t think the aliens Jupiter quite heard you,” I hiss.

“Sorry but this is the biggest piece of news in my life,” she squeals practically bouncing up and down, “my best friend likes my brother.”

“He cannot know,” I warn, my tone sincere and dangerous.

“My lips are sealed,” she grins, miming locking her lips and throwing away the key.

“I mean it Gigi,” I say.

“I know you do,” she says sincerely before she breaks out into a large smile, “you two would actually look so cute together! Oh my flying sea-lions and leprechauns when you guys get married we’ll be sisters!”

“Woah woah woah, slow down,” I say with a nervous laugh. Leave it to Gigi to start envisaging a whole lifetime of us together.

“Can’t,” she tells me, “I’m already picturing the wedding.”

“Gigi!” I exclaim.

“And your children,” she cries, clutching the left side of her chest melodramatically, “oh they’d be so cute,”

“Oh my-“

“I think we should get some coffee and discuss your future,” she says, a bit too seriously for my liking

“You are not going anywhere near coffee espeically not now and there is no future,” I reply, “I like him sure, but nothing will come of it I’m sure. He’s probably got his eye on some pretty, smart, rich girl.”

“I ship you too hard for him to fall for a pretty, smart, rich girl,” she says, “besides why would he rather that than a drop-dead gorgeous, kind and funny girl, he’s really missing out if you ask me.”

“Thanks Gigi, but I don’t think it’s happening,” I sigh

“That’s a shame because I already had so many dress options to show you,” Gigi explains, “there’s literally a whole catalogue upstairs.”

“You are mental,” I laugh.

“But you love me,” she smile sweetly.

“But I love you,” I reply.

a/n: I promise there is way more grayson x reader action in PART 3 but I hope you enjoyed this anyways :)

more fics like this on my TIG masterlist

[forever1kay]

WASH DAY !!

Summary: Miles hasn’t had time to care for himself lately, so you take the time to do that for him.

Pairing: Miles Morales x Fem!Black!Reader (Best Friends to lovers trope)

Notes: I did age up Miles slightly in this fic, he’s 17. Please be prepared for a lousy description of facial and hair care, I’m not a professional and I only know what works for me. ALSO, there’s a picture at the very end and it’s not a faceless pic bc I couldn’t find one😔

Warnings: Non-sexual nudity, breaking and entering, Miles was very crusty for a lot of this fic, slander of Jehovah’s Witnesses, profanity of course, clueless Miles, mentions of death, a few nsfw lines… let me know if I forgot anything

You had just finished detangling your hair and were three seconds away from stepping into the shower when you heard a knock at the front door. You debated answering but ultimately decided against it when you realized it was probably the Jehovah’s Witnesses for the third time today.

Stepping into the shower, you hear a thud against the floor in the other room and all you can do is pause and hope you'll be okay. A few seconds later, the bathroom door opened and all you could do was scream and grab the shower curtain for cover.

"Oh Lord!" You scream as your legs give out and force you to sit on the shower floor. "Lord, help me! I'm being attacked!”

“It's just me, Y/n/n!" Miles shouted while frantically waving his hands. “To think you’d recognize your best friend when you see him.”

You stop thrashing and peak your head out from behind the shower curtain, staring up at Miles. “Hi there!”

"Hey," He says, stooping to your level on the other side of the tub. “That was an interesting show you just put on.”

"I was going through something.” You replied, clearing your throat, “When exactly did you get back to this dimension? You smell like booty juice.”

Miles stands up and shyly scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, about that," he starts. "I just got back and I haven't had time to shower or anything."

“Seriously? You left a week ago!" You cried out while standing up but keeping your body hidden behind the curtain. "Why didn't you go back home and take a shower?"

“Forgot my key at my friend Hobie's.”

“Of course.” Grabbing your shampoo, you sighed and started to shampoo your hair. “I’ll tell you what…”

Miles nods, waiting for you to continue.

"I'll wash your hair after I wash mine. That sound good?”

Miles hums in approval.

“Good! Go shower in my sister’s bathroom.”

"I can't just come in there with you?" He asks.

“Miles, be for real.”

"Okay, okay!" He chuckles and raises his arms in surrender. “Do I still have clothes here?"

“Of course! With how often you’re here, it’d be weird if you didn’t.”

Miles hums. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I’ll leave your clothes outside of the door when I’m done. If you finish before me, just sit tight. It won’t kill you.”

He smiles and gives you a sincere thank you before leaving to take a shower of his own. You unexpectedly finished before him, so you made the decision to leave clean clothes outside the bathroom door for when he’s done.

You did your after-wash routine and wrapped your hair while you waited.

About 20 minutes later, he came back from the restroom wearing the clean clothes you had left for him and threw himself onto your bedroom floor.

“You ran all my momma hot water, Miles?” You asked him.

“Nah, I left some.”

You chuckled and got up, walking towards your room door. “Okay, come on.”

“Where are we going?” He asked, following closely behind you.

“To wash your hair.” You said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He raised an eyebrow. "How does that make sense when I just got out of the shower?"

Rolling your eyes, you grab a seat from the kitchen table. "You know how to stick your head in the sink."

"My neck gets hurt that way." Miles pouts and takes the chair from you, setting it in front of the sink.

“Everyone has that problem.” You respond, gently pushing him into the chair as you experiment with the water temperature then rush to the bathroom to get the shampoo, conditioner, and treatment.

When you come back, Miles is staring blankly at you.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"I don't want my hair to be washed in the sink."

“It's either this or you wash your own hair.” You tell him. He shakes his head. “You sure? If you want your hair to be crusty, it’s up to you.”

Miles shakes his head again and takes his shirt off before leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes, wordlessly agreeing to get his hair washed in the sink.

“Alright!” You smile, starting to wash his hair.

Your arms eventually became worn out, and you briefly complained about it before choosing to sit on him.

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

"This lessens the stress on my arms."

“Oh.” He nods. "Yes, right. Okay, great. Cool.”

He suddenly started to draw shapes in your thighs with his eyes closed. You did your best to stay calm.

"How was your week?" He asked, his words starting to slur from fatigue.

“So good.”

“Yeah?” He challenged. "Tell me more about it."

Miles had stopped running his hands along your legs, but you were too busy telling him about your week-long college tour at UCF to notice.

You saw he had fallen asleep and was somewhat drooling when you reached up to rinse his hair. Before the moment was over, you immediately dried your hands and took a picture of him. After that, you washed his hair once more, rinsed it, and then used your preferred conditioner.

As soon as you were done, you cleaned your hands and tried to wake up Miles.

"Pssst,” You whispered, "I'm finished.”

"Five more minutes.” He said with his eyes still closed, gently pushing your face away.

“No, Miles.” You responded, "Come on.”

After hearing him snore in response, you reached for the sink faucet and extended it in his direction.

His eyes shot open before you could turn on the water, and he grabbed your wrist. “Alright! I’m up, I’m up.”

You pat his face and rise, placing the faucet in its proper place. “Good! Now stand up.”

“Where are we going?”

You place an oversized cotton towel on his head, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind you. “To the sofa so I can do your hair.”

“Do what to it exactly?” Miles asks, following behind you with your hand still in his.

You shrug as you sit on the sofa and set a pillow on the floor for Miles to sit on. “No idea. You have something in mind?”

Miles squishes into a comfy position between your legs. "Actually, yeah."

And after 45 minutes of Miles being tender-headed from his first set of braids, you finished.

"Calm down, you ass." You scolded. "We're finished. Go look at it.”

Miles went to look at his hair in the bathroom before excitedly running back to you and lifting you up.

"I love it!" He shouted, spinning y’all around. “How did you learn to braid like this? Thank you!”

When he became too dizzy and lost his balance, you squealed while wrapping your legs around his waist. Your back almost hit the floor, but Miles saved you by flipping over last minute.

"My bad…" He said apologetically.

After a few hours, your family came home and found you and miles sleeping on the couch. They asked you both to get up and move so that you wouldn't take up space.

You took this moment to your parents if he could stay the night and they pointed at the air mattress that you’d have to inflate for him.

About time the air mattress was inflated and the both of you laid down in your respective beds, neither of you were tired anymore.

“Miles.” You whispered.

“Y/n?” He replied.

"Wanna do a thing?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

He sat up. “What thing?”

“Let me give you a facial.” You spoke, rolling over to face his bed.

Miles raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't the boy give the girl-"

You threw a pillow at him. "Nigga, not that kind of facial!"

He caught the pillow and threw it back, hitting your shiny ass forehead with it. “Then what are you talking about?”

You got up and walked toward him, reaching your hands out for his. “Cmonnnn, just trust me.”

Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, taking your hand. “Fine.”

He is then dragged into the bathroom where you force him to wash his face while you get all the supplies. Once he has finished cleaning his face, you lead him back into your room and give him a durag.

Miles sits on your bed, puts on the durag, and sends a worried glance your way.

“Don’t worry, I got this!” You reassure him, sensing his apprehension. “Now lay down.”

“Okay, okay.”

You straddle Miles when he lies down on your bed, pausing for a second before you do anything else.

“I would just like to let you know that i am not a professional and I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing.”

Miles smiles up at you. “It’s fine.”

You return his smile before picking up an under-eye mask for eye bags.

“What’s that?” He asks.

“An eye mask.” You reply.

“Where does it go?” He asks dumbly.

“Right under your eyes.” You chuckle. “Close them.”

As instructed, Miles closes his eyes. You place the eye mask under his eyes and then take the jade roller and massage the eye masks against his face.

After some time had passed, you threw the eye mask in the garbage next to your bed.

“Okay, you can open your eyes.”

Miles started to sit up. “We’re done? Already?”

“No, Miles.”

He laid back down.

“You can keep your eyes open for this one.” You told him, grabbing the lip scrub.

“What’s that one?”

“Lip scrub.” You tell him.

You take a scrub brush and generously cover it with lip scrub before placing it on Miles' lips and gently massaging it in. He stared up at the concentrated expression on your face.

About thirty seconds later, you went to get a damp towel to remove the lip scrub, but Miles beat you to it.

“This tastes good.”

“Miles no! Don’t eat it, the packaging says you could die!”

Miles gasps and shoots up, snatching the lip scrub container and knocking you to the floor in the process.

“Show me where it says that!”

“It doesn’t, I was just kidding.” You huff. “But now I should kill you myself for almost killing me.”

He shrugs. “It’s not my fault you told me I was going to have a premature teenage death.”

You roll your eyes and grab the warm rag, climbing back onto your bed. “Anyways, you can lay your head in my lap and I’ll finish this.”

Miles quickly lays down on your lap and looks up at you.

His lips are effectively damp after you wipe away the last of the lip scrub for you to be able to apply the desired lip serum. You apply a small amount, then rub it in. With a lovesick smile on his face, Miles looks up at you.

You raise an eyebrow.

“You’re so pretty.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“What?!” He counters. “I-I don’t know.”

You sigh and shake your head, applying a lip mask, then a jelly face mask, then facial serum, and lastly moisturizer on his skin.

By that point, Miles' eyes were closed, and you were unsure of whether he was asleep or not.

“Miles?” You speak softly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m all done, love.”

“Can we do another one?”

“No, sir. We cannot.”

“But I feel so relaxed.”

“We can go to sleep if you want?”

“No, let’s watch a movie.”

“Yes! I’ll go grab snacks.”

Ignoring the puzzled stares from your family, you run to the pantry to grab some snacks before returning to Miles, who had already decided on the movie.

“What did you pick?” You ask, setting the snacks down carefully onto the bed.

“Howl’s Moving Castle.” He replies, pulling out his phone and sitting at the foot of the bed. “Say cheese!”

While chuckling a little at Miles, you smile towards the camera while holding the straw's tip in your mouth.

“What are you laughing at, huh?”

“You’re adorable, Miles.”

“Thanks, I try.”

As the movie begins, you roll your eyes and set the drink down.

About halfway through the movie, Miles moves closer to you and lies in your lap, staring up at you.

You frown down at him. “You okay, Miles?”

“Yeah.” He replies, smiling a little before starting to watch the movie again.

About five minutes later, he breaks his silence by bringing up the facial you gave him earlier.

“You know, you should really try some of the lip scrub.”

“I will not eat the lip scrub that I paid money for.” You tell him, “So unless you have another way, then I won’t-“

Miles reaches out and pulls your face to his in the classic Spider-Man kiss, holding you there as long as you let him.

Six seconds later, you pull away from Miles and give him a confused look.

“I’m totally not complaining, but what was that for?”

Miles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking back up at you. “I like you a lot, Y/n…”

“So your mom wasn’t trying to trick me?”

“SHE TOLD YOU I LIKE YOU?!”

“Yeah?”

“Ignore her from now on.”

“I did, that’s why we’re having this moment so late.”

“Does that mean you like me too?”

“Mhm.”

Miles smiles awkwardly. “Cool.”

You give him a pat on the cheek and resume watching the film.

He breaks the silence again a little while later.

“…That lip scrub tasted good, didn’t it?”

You giggle and peck his lips again. Before the movie was over, you both had fallen asleep.

BONUS:

The following morning when you woke up before Miles, you checked your Instagram and found a surprise waiting for you.

© forever1kay 2023 - please don’t translate, convert, copy, paraphrase, repost, or alter any of my works without my permission.

[vhyunjinverse]

My Remedy

m!reader x spencer reid (18+)(fluff)(angst sorta but happy ending)

summary: Spencer’s had a rough day at work, and you do your best to make him feel better

warnings: soft dom!reader, sub!spencer, subspace, sir kink, praise kink, milking

“Spence..? Baby..talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“M..Mhm.”

“Sweetheart..i need a clear answer. Let’s stop right here-“

“No- It’s..it’s okay.. keep going.”

His breath hitched as you kissed up his trembling thighs lovingly. Your fingers slipped deeper into your lover’s hole while you watched his glossy eyes, and the faded tear marks on his cheeks. He moaned softly..your name slipping beautifully off his tongue.

Spencer had a bad day at work that day. The way he came into your shared apartment and immediately went to the bedroom without your normal kiss was the first alarm. Secondly, it was the shower water running afterwards. You always showered with Spencer when he got off of work- no matter if you’d taken one already or not. You enjoyed the space you both shared (and washing his hair was a fever dream). You ordered his favorite too, indian food. Hell- you’d starve yourself until he got home and don’t have an issue with it, as long as it was time spent together.

“..Spence?” You frown as you call out to him. You made your way down the hall to your shared bedroom, making your way to the bathroom door. You knock twice before you heard it, faint, but as you leaned your ear against the door you heard him sniffling. “Baby..?” you speak softly, “Are you okay?” He sniffled once more, a faint “no” could be heard.

“..May I come in?” the shower water turns off, and you hear Spencer mutter, “yes..”

You open the door to find your lover sitting on the edge of the tub, looking down at his lap. “What’s wrong baby?” you ask him, taking a seat down on the floor by his long legs. you lean your head on his thigh, smiling softly when he starts to touch your hair.

“Bad day at work.” he sighs.

“We’ve all had those.” you chuckle. his hands pull gently at the strands.

“..it’s just..it was overwhelming. one case after the other i don’t sleep. i think my mental stability just collapsed, i couldn’t proceed with work and came home.” the thoughts made you frown while Spencer shuddered. “i’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“Sweetheart ..it’s okay. How about this: i draw you a nice warm bath, and get the food heated up and then we can head on to bed hm? no boring late night shows, just us in bed.” You stand up and grab his hand, which he gladly accepted. You kept his hand as you turned on the tub water, looking underneath the bathroom sink for his little aftercare basket you had.

“..Baby?” Spencer’s voice filled your ears. You look back at the red figure and raise a brow, “Yes sweetheart?”

“Tonight can we..”

And so it started, Spencer on his back while you fingered his already gaping hole. You watched intensely at the way he tried his best to stay still. Helplessly stroking his little cock, you prod your fingers at his prostate, pressing against it gently.

“feels s’ good..” he moaned, back arching just the slightest. “that’s good baby,” you cooed, biting your lip as you sped up, “i want you to feel good.”

“i wanna- i wanna cum..” Spencer’s bottom starts to twitch, that pool building in his stomach for the third time tonight, “..please sir” he begged, shutting his eyes tightly. your fingers brushed against his prostate once more and he shudders. he felt like jelly against your body. You were so hard.. but this was about making Spencer feel his absolute best.

“fuck fuck fuck-“ he choked out a groan, body twitching even harder, still, you gripped his little cock in your hand and jerked his off faster, thumb shielding his tip. “s..sir please..” he whimpered, rutting against your hand.

“be still baby. you’re doing very good for me, so good” you loom over him and smile softly, leaning down to kiss his nose. Spencer began to spew nonsense as his whole body shook, tears leaking from his eyes once more. “c..can’t hold it” he breathes deeply.

you let up, hands and all. you sit back and watch his cock shoot it’s strings. all over Spencer’s tummy. “sir…s-“ he cried out, thrusting into the air as he kept cumming. you enjoyed milking Spencer, you knew he loved it as well.

Once he calmed down, his body stilled, and you watched it relax.

“Spence…? Baby?” you murmur, grabbing a wash rag to clean his body with. You made sure to grab the aftercare basket with you from the bathroom.

“mm..” he breathed shakily. as you clean his body you notice he’s staring up at the ceiling, eyes clouded and hazy.

“Sweetheart- focus on my voice okay?”

“..mhm” he moans. you touch his body gently. washing him off and kissing each little spot. “come back to me hm? you have food to eat i know you’re hungry.” chuckling softly you kiss his forehead.

“I love you sweetheart.” you say once more

[thafunkyrca]

The Stressed Feeder and Overfed Himbo:

Back in my first retail job, things were pretty chill and not as serious at this job so we always had a lot of free time to do fun bonding activities inside and outside of work. A few other coworkers and myself were invited to come over for a movie night! insisted that all snacks, foods and drinks would be handled through her as she just loved being host for events like this. I love hanging out with friends and coworkers, even if it’s just for a movie I just like to be around people and have a good time. Day of the party, I was running pretty late per usual and expecting to get there to a bunch of people couch watching movies or playing games. To my surprise, I pull up to her house and everything just looks dark and empty. No cars parked, no porch light on, just nothing. I walk up to the door thinking there’ll be a few people around. My coworker/the host opens the door and greets me very excitedly! To my surprise, there is no one here. And behind her being excited, I can tell she’s stressed and a little sad. But I was happy to be there and cheer her up. Walk in the kitchen to a table of brownies, soft pretzels and pizza! And of course I was ready to dig in. Couple hours go by, we’re playing switch games. I can tell her mood is shifting so I ask “is everything okay?” She responds that I’ve hardly touched any of the food she made. And I can tell she worked hard getting all the food out together, so I went for some more hoping to cheer her up. Each time I got up for a plate, nothing but warm smiles from her. By the time I was heading for third plate, my belly was already full. And I didn’t think I could eat another bite. “Do you even like the brownies? Please eat a little bit more, I made em from scratch.” And how could I resist, they were so warm, rich and delicious, I also just couldn’t bare to break her heart. So I added 3 brownie slices on my plate and dug in. Then after a round of Mario Kart, she got up and made me another plate with a few soft pretzels on it. “I just hate that no one got to try my food but I’m so glad you’re enjoying it all.” I look at her with a whimpering smile as I feel like I’m going to burst. At this point , I’m not even tasting the food. I’m just chewing and swallowing, that’s the easiest way it can all get down. By the time she handed me another plate of soft pretzels, I began to feel my stomach churn. I had to come forward with her. The food was so fucking delicious but I could have another bite, it’s time to let her know and go home. “Hey Eliza, I’m getting a bit fu….” I’m silenced by a slice of brownie that had gotten shoved into my mouth. Looking into her eyes, she didn’t give a shit what I was feeling. After one more big slice shoved in my mouth, she finally spoke. “I worked too damn hard all day making all this fucking food from scratch. So everyone can have a good and fun time. Just for those backstabbers to not even come and fuck me over. But you…you were so kind enough to stay and spend time with me, and clearly you enjoy my cooking. So I’m gonna make sure you finish every last crumb of my cooking. There will be no leftovers, and I’ll brag to those assholes about all the fun that they missed.” At this point, I’m a little scared…but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on in the slightest. And again, her cooking was quite phenomenal. She sat me down at the counter and kept bringing me plate after plate. I begin to feel a bit drowsy and woozy. Chocolate crumbs, pizza sauce and pretzel salt all dripping down my lips. We looked at the clock and it was midnight. “You’re gonna have to start heading home now!” She grabs both my hands and I began to waddle to the door, belly dangling and all. But she didn’t care. As we got to the door she gave me a kiss on the forehead. Instantly melted all over, especially in my trousers. “Thank you for coming over, we’ll have our own movie night again soon!” She smirked, took a look at my overstuffed belly and tickled it with both her hands. Wish I could say I giggled but it didn’t do anything but let out a big burp. She chuckled and closed the door on me.

[n0vabug]

Sleeping and Bowling

Summary: Reader sleeps in and Maddy skips school to go to her house, they cuddle, go bowling, yk that kind of stuff.

This was a request btw :)

Warnings: None, it's all fluff :) Words: 1.3k

THIRD PERSON POV

Maddy walked into school that morning and immediately went to her girlfriend's locker, like normal. Maddy waited and waited. No (Y/N). She thought it was kind of weird since (Y/N) rarely ever missed school. Even though she wouldn't say it out loud at the moment, she was a bit worried that (Y/N) hadn't bolted through the school doors to hug her. Maddy eventually walked away, she went to look for Jules to ask her if she knew where (Y/N) was. It turns out (Y/N) was actually perfectly fine. She was just overslept that morning and when she woke up, she just decided to stay home since she would've been late anyways. Jules and (Y/N) had always been close. Jules was the second person (Y/N) came out too and also the second person who knew (Y/N) liked Maddy, but the first, was Lexi. (Y/N) was also pretty close to Lexi as they both had similar personalities. Lexi and (Y/N) had been friends since primary school (first grade to be specific). Lexi knew about (Y/N) liking Maddy since they started High school, and the second Maddy and (Y/N) started dating, Lexi was thrilled, like jumping up and down and continuously hugging (Y/N).

"Hey bitch, do you know where my Girlfriend is?" Maddy asked the blonde

"Yeah, she just texted me and said that she slept in today so she's just saying home." Jules responded and chuckled a bit at the end. She found it kind of funny since (Y/N) never sleeps in and is always on time.

"I'm gonna kill her." Maddy said obviously joking, which made Jules laugh.

Maddy decided to leave school and spend the day with her girlfriend, she wanted to take her bowling that night, and maybe watch a movie with her, Maddy literally wanted to do anything with her. They both really loved each other, (Y/N) was always doing kind gestures, showing Maddy every love language and giving Maddy all her love. Maddy on the other hand loved it, she was more of a physical touch quality time of person though, but every time (Y/N) showed any type of love to Maddy, she always said, "Ew (Y/N), that's like really gay." after that, (Y/N) would just give Maddy a look of confusion and say, "Aren't you literally gay?" The first that time Maddy did this, (Y/N) didn't realize she was joking and was upset because she thought Maddy didn't want to be with her, which led Maddy into explaining that it was all a big joke and she didn't mean it and a lot of cuddles and kisses from her. Maddy obviously wasn't homophobic, she never has been.

Maddy left the school and immediately drove to (Y/N's) place. Maddy got to her house, walked up to the door and knocked. (Y/N's) mom answered the door, she was one of the nicest people Maddy had met, next to (Y/N) of course.

"Oh hi Maddy!"

"Hello Mrs. (L/N), is (Y/N) here?" Maddy questioned the older woman

"Yep, she overslept, but she is just hanging out in her room if you want to come in. Do you need anything?" (Y/N's) mom said while opening the door more so Maddy could come inside.

"No I'm fine, thank you though!" Maddy said with a smile on her face. (Y/N) and her mom were both genuinely nice people, that's what Maddy liked about there house, it was sweet.

Maddy knocked on (Y/N's) door, and before (Y/N) could even say "come in", Maddy had already walked in.

"Oh hey Mads, I didn't know you were-" Maddy cut (Y/N) off by pressing a soft kips to her lips, but sadly, the kiss didn't last long. "Well, that's one way to say hello" said (Y/N) laughing.

"Well if I'm being completely honest, you make it very hard for me to like not miss you." Said Maddy, and before (Y/N) could get a word out, Maddy spoke up again. "Oh also tonight, you should like totally come bowling with me, Kat, Ethan, and Jules, and then you and me come back to your house and have a sleepover, if it's okay with you."

"That sounds like a great idea, also you basically live here, Mads, and I love it when you stay, you don't have to ask me." (Y/N) said with a smile. Maddy just smiled and admired her girlfriend for a minute before cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for another kiss, this time one that lasted a bit longer, Maddy melted into this kiss as she felt the warmth of her girlfriends lips flow perfectly against her lips. After a few minutes they both pulled away, out of breath.

"Come on let's get ready for tonight."

"We still have 7 hours Maddy."

"Well I want to make sure we both look perfect and I want to do your makeup." Maddy said with a grin on. her face

"You know I don't like a ton of makeup Mads." (Y/N) responded "Why don't we like relax for a bit before getting ready, we don't need 7 hours."

"Ugh fine, can I do a little makeup at least, also if we're relaxing then we're cuddling." Maddy said with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Fine you can do a little bit of makeup." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile. (Y/N) laid down and patted the spot next to her for Maddy. Maddy laid on (Y/N's) chest and buried her head in the crook of (Y/N's) neck. Maddy's arms were around (Y/N's) waist while (Y/N's) arms were on Maddy's back. The two laid like this for a while until they both fell asleep.

(Y/N) woke up and immediately panicked, not knowing what time it was and not realizing they both fell asleep. "Shit, shit, shit" she said, which woke Maddy up.

"What time is it?" (Y/N) asked in a panicked voice which worried Maddy a bit.

"Calm down baby, it's only 12:14." Maddy responded in a reassuring voice, which caused (Y/N) to let out a heavy breath that she didn't realize she was holding in, showing that she was relived.

"Wait, how the hell did we sleep for 4 hours." (Y/N) asked confused

"I don't know, but let's get ready, bowling is at 5."

"Okay Mads, we can get ready." (Y/N) said with a smile and kissed Maddy's forehead.

~~~Really short time-skip~~~

The two girls changed into their outfits, Maddy finished her makeup, and was adding finishing touches to (Y/N's), she was sitting down while Maddy straddled her lap.

"Can I add diamonds to it?"

"Sure, why not." (Y/N) said smiling

Maddy put a few diamonds on (Y/N's) face and smiled as she added the last one. "Okay, I'm done, what do you think?" Maddy moved off of (Y/N) as she got up and walked towards the mirror.

"You know, I'm not the biggest fan of makeup, but when you do it, I love it." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile and pull her into a warm embrace.

"Come on let's go." Maddy said while grabbing her bag and intertwining her hand with (Y/N's) and dragging her to the car.

Maddy was always the one driving, she loved to treat (Y/N) like the passenger princess, Maddy loved to give her the aux, which is rare because Maddy doesn't even let Kat or Cassie (when they were still friends) control the music, but she loves (Y/N) so it didn't matter.

Both girls had arrived, they met up with Kat, Jules, and Ethan, they went bowling for a couple hours until they eventually were tired of it. Maddy and (Y/N) parted ways with the others and drove back to (Y/N's) house. They both took showers, put their pajamas on, and did whatever they had to do to get ready for bed. (Y/N) let Maddy pick a movie as they both laid on her bed, in the same position they were earlier. Maddy couldn't even see the movie because of the position she was in, but she didn't care.

"Hey, Mads?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

"I love you too (Y/N)" Maddy says, as she leans up and kisses (Y/N) on the forehead.

A/N I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED AND STUFF BUT HERE IT IS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN JUST LMK AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO FIX :). I HAD FUN WRITING THIS THOUGH. LMK IF YOU HAVE ANY MORE REQUESTS, THEY ARE ALWAYS OPEN AND IM LIKE NEVER BUSY EVER 😭😭. BUT YEAH LMK IF YOU WANT ANYTHING TO BE FIXED IN THIS OR IF ITS NOT WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR.

[undertheopensky]

Forging Tired

Whumptober Day 26: Working To Exhaustion

Characters: Four, Blue, Sky

Trigger warnings: None

Read on Ao3!

---

Sky doesn’t realise it until after dinner, but Four hasn’t banked the forge fires.

“I’m not done yet,” Four waves at the admittedly intimidating pile of repair work yet to be done. A couple of plates from Time’s armour probably need to be replaced entirely, they have such large holes in them.

“It’s getting real late. Don’t stay up too much longer, you need to get some sleep.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Body’s not tired.” Four flexes one arm and gives him a grin that looks so much like Wind Sky’s eyes cross.

“Maybe not,” they sure hadn’t done much physical stuff today, just run around the village resupplying and gathering information, “but your brain still needs rest.”

This time Four snorts. “The brain is fast asleep, but that’s okay, we don’t need it for this.”

No one asks any more why Four sometimes refers to himself in the third person or plural. At best, he’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, and at worst, he’ll look at you like you’re the strange one. The closest they’ve gotten to an explanation is an offhanded, sympathetic “Yeah, we get it,” when Time first told them to stop asking about his timekeeping, because it was a holdover from a quest too traumatic to describe.

So, slightly weird, probably a Quest Thing, doesn’t seem to affect him day-to-day.

That said Sky’s a little concerned about him working with hot metal with his brain asleep.

“Are you sure? We can wait another day or two before setting out, I’m sure Time won’t mind. We don’t want you exhausting yourself over this.”

Four makes a rude noise, which is out of character enough Sky blinks. “I think I know my limits well enough, featherhead. Besides, forging’s not that hard. I wanna take advantage of actually having all my damn equipment for once, and goddess knows we probably won’t be here long. Our shit needs a lot of maintenance done. Don’t worry about the noise. The forge’s been soundproofed since we were little. Go away and sleep, featherhead, you need it more than us.”

He shoos Sky from the forge, polite but implacably firm.

Sky can’t exactly argue. Four is the smith here, and he knows himself best. If he says it’s fine, Sky will just have to believe him.

And as promised, as soon as the heavy door swings closed, the sounds of the forge muffle to almost nothing.

---

With Sky finally gone, Blue feels the tension ease out of him. Finally, some peace and quiet. He loves his brothers, and he supposes the heroes they’re travelling with aren’t TOO bad, but sometimes he just needs time alone in the quiet with his own thoughts and his own projects. There’s not a lot of privacy on the open road, or in a head crammed full of four distinct people.

Vio struggles with it, too, Blue knows, as he sets up the next few pieces of metal to heat and shovels fresh coke into the fire. But unlike Blue, the nerd is soothed by late nights spent reading or taking the darkest hours of watch, where Blue needs to do things to calm the itch in his brain. Armour and weapons maintenance is great for that - but it’s not always quiet. And waking everyone up with his activities would very much defeat the point.

Then, once he’s got things set up, Blue sits down at the bench with pliers and wire.

The worst thing about Sky’s mail is that the links are an eighth of an inch larger than standard - than literally everyone else’s. Blue had had to make a winding rod specifically for his damn mail, and has to double check every time before starting repairs to make sure he’s pulling from the right patch of spares.

If he had more time, he’d just make him a mail shirt from normal links. Standardise them across the board, and improve Sky’s resistance to piercing claws. But he doesn’t - they don’t - and besides that when this is all over Sky will be going back to his home in the clouds with its stupid mail measurements and its barely-there monster attacks and he’ll have no use for the close-set rings of modern mail and they’ll never see him again -

The forge fires burn hot enough that Blue can pretend it’s the air making his eyes sting.

Mending mail is busywork, stuff to keep his hands occupied while he waits for things to heat. It needs doing, and if he does it here then he can rivet the rings shut properly instead of the temporary road fixes (shit he needs to check Twilight’s mail he knows he put in a patch at one point but doesn’t remember riveting it in, need to do that before they leave) but some things can only be done at the forge. Like the plates of steel he’s got resting to the side, waiting to be turned into a new piece of Time’s armour.

He should probably get started on that actually so Blue puts aside the mail and reaches for his tongs. A lot of this is just shaping, forming the metal to the exact dimensions and curvature of Time’s body, and then adding buckle straps and point anchors so it can actually be attached. This is the loud part, metal-on-metal ringing and echoing in the enclosed stone room and making his vision swim just a little. He has to pause to blink it away. Does his head actually hurt, or is it just more echoes from the hammer?

Doesn’t matter; he’s got work to do. Blue checks the first piece for fit and moves on to the second; best to get this heavy work done before he gets tired. Working the steel cold takes more effort, but makes it less brittle in the end. Kind of important, that the metal sheets guarding someone’s body don’t shatter under a stiff blow, turning them from a defense into a hazard. You can get away with working horseshoes and stuff like metal fittings hot and then quenching them down, but it’s not worth it with plate armour.

Once he’s got the base curve in place, he checks the lines he drew earlier before his vision started to wobble, then hunts down the blunted chisel he needs. This is the fiddly bit. Blue sets the metal down on the wooden block with the groove specifically for this task, lining it up with the drawn lines, and starts hammering out the ridges.

It’s time-consuming, but the raised metal redirects weapons to less vulnerable points. Blue’s seen a sword swing into an arm then slide off into empty air, instead of an armpit or elbow, because of these ridges. They’re useful.

Time didn’t have any, originally. And while he can’t say for sure - Blue suspects that if he’d had them on his armour that first time a moblin got the jump on him, its spear wouldn’t have slid past the plates into his side quite so easily.

Four’s been quietly upgrading it piece by piece ever since.

The vambrace is harder, more of a curve to force the steel into, but he’s long practised at getting stubborn materials to cooperate. Once it’s done, and added to the pile he’s making of Time’s shit, he pulls the pattern steel Red had spent all day folding and forge welding from the fire. Already the basic shape of it is there: the tapered tip, the length of the blade, the narrow throat and tang. Once it’s finished, it’ll be a dagger for Hyrule. His current one has been sharpened so many times it’s thin enough to use as a lockpick, and they want him to have something good-quality to replace it, something that will last him.

(Will last him beyond this time of portals and black blood, because getting new equipment in his time is so, so difficult and they never want him to go without ever again, and one knife isn’t much in the grand scheme of things but it’s something they can do, and they’ll do their goddess-damn best work on it for him.)

It still needs some more shaping before it’s ready to go under the whetstone, though, so Blue tucks it back in the fire and picks up Wind’s knife, the one with the loose hilt. How the sailor expects to get anything done when he has to hold his entire hand at right angles to keep the thing straight Blue doesn’t know. Apparently he’d been stuffing it with fabric scraps to stabilise it, which, great, now Blue has to dig them all out before he can decide if the hilt is at all salvageable.

It doesn’t help that his fingers are a little shaky. Shit. Maybe he needs a water break.

He sets the dubiously-fixable knife aside while he drinks. He doesn’t feel thirsty. Dry-eyed, maybe, and his throat aches from the forge air, but the water doesn’t really help. Still, hydration’s important.

A sudden clank makes Blue drop his cup, water scattering on the floor as he spins. The fire flares - oh. A coal had - split, or settled, and the still-dull blade of Hyrule’s dagger had shifted and struck the edge. It looks about ready to go again anyway, so Blue grabs it - with tongs! He’s not an idiot! - and starts hammering an edge into it.

As the blade flattens out and becomes more knife than bar of metal Blue takes care to bevel off both edges neatly. He flips it, to make sure he gets both sides, then flips it again to even it out. He wants the balance on this thing perfect, and if it takes a bit of fiddling, all the better. That way he knows it’s good. Blue holds it up, eyeing the straightness of the blade from the side, and then down the length of it, and nods to himself, moving to set it. Good. He’ll let it cool a little before heating it again, and -

Blue stumbles. The blade clangs down on the bench he’d meant to set it on gently, spinning away from the tongs and fortunately not hitting any part of him with the still red-hot metal. Fuck, he’d forgotten to pick up his cup. It’s a good thing it’s so hot in here that all the water evaporated off or he might have slipped. Fuck.

He checks the blade - fuck, he dinged it - puts it back in the fire, then picks up his cup to set it back beside the water barrel. The metal handle is painfully hot under his fingers. Although - he could do with more water. His eyes are stinging again.

Blue drinks, long and slow. The water tastes metallic, or maybe that’s just the forge air coating his tongue. It settles uneasily. Doesn’t matter - his stomach will get over it.

He fixes the dent made when he dropped the half-made dagger, hammering until metal fills the gap and then hammering it out even again to repair the edge. He also spends more time carefully squinting at it to make sure it’s still straight, so long that the metal goes dark and cold.

Then back in the fire it goes.

Blue gets back to mail repairs, working rings into place, then riveting them shut with scraps from broken links. He considers, as he works, if the long-handled riveting pliers could be made to fit into their tool pouch. They can’t bring along the whole forge, that would be silly, but this one thing? They already carry the cutting pliers to make links with so it’s not like they need anything else for the rivets, and it doesn’t need heat treatment -

He pinches a fingertip with the pliers and swears loudly, shaking it and resisting the urge to shove it in his mouth - his hands are covered in oil and coal dust. Squinting at it - no real damage - he shakes it one more time and picks up the mail patch he dropped. It stings a little, to apply enough pressure to hold the metal fabric. Actually -

Checking the dagger, he pulls it from the fire and rests it on the anvil to cool. This is always time consuming, heating and cooling the steel to normalise it before the final edge can be put on. Heat it, then cool it, then heat it again; all part of ensuring the blade isn’t brittle and will hold its shape and its edge for as long as possible. It’s familiar in a way so ingrained he can almost touch it, watching the metal change colour. Fading from yellow, through red, down to the still blisteringly-hot but normal appearance of steel.

Blue blinks, and finds himself sitting on his preferred stool, metal still cooling in his tongs. Shit. When did he sit down? He’s wasting time, here. Back in the fire, back to work, fingertip still throbbing faintly.

Half the plates on Time’s tassets got ripped off during the fight with the iron knuckle, which are fiddly and annoying but not hard to replace. Once he’s got them shaped and punched Blue is tempted to just hand the lot off to Time for the old man to stitch them in place. Teach him to get distracted watching Twilight’s sword form. Shit, there’s so many of them, too. Time’s lucky his leg was in few enough pieces that Hyrule and Warriors could put it back together.

Blue hammers out scale after scale. Get the curve right; adjust the tongs, hammer out the part they’d hidden; set the edge, set the ridge, set it aside, and grab the next one. He piles them up on the metal workbench; they’d be less annoying to work with if he could just pile them in a coal shovel and dunk them in the fire to soften them, but even if they’re small they’re still armour and he needs to keep them as supple as possible.

And speaking of it’s time to pull the dagger again. The tongs grab it, fumble it, dump it back in the coals, then grab it agin. Blue is very careful as he sets it on the bench. He has no desire to set his own boots alight. This is the last cooling phase, though, so he can let the forge fire die down. Finally. His eyes itch and ache in the hot, dry air. He’d rub them if he wasn’t - still - covered in forge leavings.

Punch the holes for Time’s tasset scales; set them in his pile to deal with in the morning. Finally get the hilt off Wind’s knife and decide it is salvageable, actually, if he glues in a wedge of cedar to fill in the split that was letting it get loose in the first place. How did Wind even do that? Rewrap it in leather strips and it’ll be done; another job for the morning. When his hands aren’t so shaky. He’s getting glue everywhere, ugh.

…does he need to pull the dagger again? No, wait, it’s already on the bench. Does it need to go back in the fire? …no, he already decided it was done. He reaches to grab it, half-intending to measure it up for the hilt and crossguard, but hesitates at the heat radiating off it. Right. Fresh from the forge. Doesn’t look hot, but definitely is. He’ll leave it for an hour or so.

Blue shakes himself, hard, feeling the pull of it in his neck and his forehead. His head aches, behind his eyes. There’s a fine grey fuzz at the edges of his vision. Right, with the forge fire dying, he needs a bit more light. Where’s Vio’s lantern…?

By the too-pale magical light, Blue works, and works, until there’s nothing left to do but wind more wire into chainmail rings and weave them into the cuts and gashes left by enemy claws and weapons, tamp down rivets and move to the next section until he needs to wind out more rings -

It’s endless and monotonous and he can feel the screaming under his skin finally starting to cool, as the fire burns itself out.

Something they do need, he thinks as he pulls out the temporary patch he’d put in Twilight’s mail tunic, is a store of fully-finished rings. Hammering out their linking points and punching rivet holes is best done on an anvil. Then, as long as they have a stock of scrap wire for rivets (inevitable, they’re constantly damaging mail), the cutters and the riveting pliers, they can do repairs that are just as strong as the original work itself. Once they run out of wire, well, that’s more of an issue. The drawing plate is much too heavy to bring along with them.

Blue seals up the last ring in Twilight’s mail and sets it aside, then hops off the stool to go in search of the metal rods he needs to make wire. He knows they left a whole stack of them somewhere.

In truth, most forging doesn’t require a lot of raw strength. The weight of the hammer and the drag of gravity does a lot of the work, and all you need to do is direct it. Blue’s got more muscle from wielding a warhammer, honestly. The exception, he thinks distastefully, is wire drawing. That does need some force, since you’re dragging a piece of metal through smaller and smaller holes, not stretching it so much as drawing it out longer and longer and thinner and thinner, and of course it’s metal, it doesn’t want to do that.

Blue finally finds the basket of rods on a low shelf behind a huge box of half-finished nails - Red’s doing, surely - and carries it to the draw plate. There’s certainly no moving the thing to anywhere else. It weighs more than he does at least twice over, solid iron plate set into a heavy stone base.

Choosing a rod, Blue hammers out a quick point, feeds it through a hole that’s just a little smaller than its current size, clamps it, and starts to pull.

His eyes burn. His head aches. His fingers sting, all the little places where slips and cuts and burns have piled up over long hours. Without his mind keeping track of eight timers at once, it’s free to focus on the physical, and oh, he feels so heavy -

Blue breathes deep, metal and coal dust and ash, and feeds the wire into the next hole.

---

Sky is unhappy but unsurprised to find the patch of floor allocated to Four empty.

Weak morning light streams through the curtains. It’s just enough to see by as Sky checks that Legend’s unmoving form on the bed is just due to stiffness and exhaustion, not something more worrying, and tiptoes around scattered bedrolls. Twilight cracks an eye as he’s stepped over.

“A’right there?” he checks, voice low.

Sky smiles. “Just seein’ who’s up.”

Twilight grunts and to all appearances goes straight back to sleep. For all he wakes with the dawn on the ranch, he does enjoy his sleep, when he can get it.

Sky empathises but he’s got a mission.

Through the shop windows he spots Wild outside, running through the carefully prescribed stretches that kept his scars limber. Once he was done with those, he’d be all up in Four’s kitchen, eager to make food more complex than could be managed over a simple campfire. Four even had an oven, which Wild had been very excited about.

Still, breakfast will come later. The forge door still stands closed, just as it had last night after Four kicked him out. Moving slow, Sky eases the heavy door open, hoping to find him passed out in a corner somewhere.

Instead Four is sitting upright at the workbench. The winding rod in his hands is familiar, though he’s moving far slower than usual, and his hands shake when he reaches for the pliers.

“Four, have you slept at all?” Sky asks, disappointed.

“Huh?” Four turns to look at him, and there’s a distinct pause before recognition flickers. “Oh, Sky. I’m nearly done with your mail. Or…” He squints at the links on the table. “No, mail’s finished. Spare rings. We’re always running out.”

“Sleep, Four,” Sky stresses. “Goddess - have you been working all night?” He eyes up the frankly ludicrous pile of mending that now sits on the other side of the bench from where it started, separated into neat piles by owner. And Four is still going - slowly cutting rings off the spiral, one by one.

“‘M fine.”

He changes tacks. “Four, c’mon. It’s time for breakfast. Wild will sulk if it gets cold, you know he will.”

Four blinks at him, visibly hazy with exhaustion, and finally, slowly, drags himself to his feet. He looks worse, upright. He’s pale and a little haggard, swaying slightly just standing in place. Goddess. He’s going to be an utter wreck today, and they’re supposed to head out for the Castor Wilds later. Maybe Sky can convince Time to wait until after lunch and Four will revive some after a nap -

The smith’s feet tangle. Sky lunges to catch him -

Four catches himself with a quick shake of the head. “Phew, close one,” he mutters. He brushes past Sky into the rest of the house, steps suddenly quick and sure. “C’mon, Sky,” he calls over his shoulder, “help me keep Wild from dirtying every pan I own, I do not want to do dishes today.”

He still looks distinctly unwell over breakfast, but the shake in his hands, the sway in his step, the dull slowness of his eyes and responses - all that is gone like it was never there. He even smiles and keeps up with the conversation. Sky doesn’t know what to make of it.

(In the back of his mind, though, he wonders.)