#side effect of growing up in the streets

[somnas-writes]

Porsche and Chay are so strange to Kinn. Like he’s gotten a full profile of their entire life and is just baffled by how close they are.

Porsche and chay get into a play fight once (they chase each other around the compound, chay bites a bodyguard, Porsche accidentally pushes someone into a pool—it was a whole thing), and Kinn is just astounded.

He and his brothers aren’t openly affectionate or emotional so he watched them closely when they interact

[yourlocallunatic]

My King in the North

Cregan Stark x fem Velaryon!reader 18+

Summary: You fly with your brother to meet with the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North to ally your families in the height of the Dance of Dragons. In exchange for soldiers, your mother has offered up you—her eldest daughter.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, piv sex, oral sex (fem receiving) canonical Stark breeding kink (seriously, hardcore breeding kink). HoTD tragedies (character deaths)

wordcount: 8.2k

The wind grew sharper the further North you flew, snow started to cling to your hair and lashes, encasing you in the cold. On the back of your dragon, you tried your best to curl into yourself to keep warm. The rain you saw from time to time on Dragonstone was cold, but not like this. You could feel the fierce power of the North in the gusts of the wind and it made you feel something, something more than you felt anywhere in the South.

You approached Winterfell, the rolling green hills and the thick forest surrounding it. The sky was gray and a light snow covered the cobblestone streets and the tops of the tower. It seemed dull, but there was a distinguished charm to the place. You and your brother landed your dragons near the front gates, and the guards standing watch shuffled stiffly on their feet–eyes growing wide at the sheer size of the beasts. The gates opened and a man walked at the front, he was broad and burly, his long hair was pulled half-back and a large sword was slung across his back. This was the Lord of Winterfell. Your betrothed.

“Winterfell welcomes you, my friends,” his voice shook with a deep Northern accent, his arms were outstretched with a gesture of welcome.

“Thank you, my Lord. Our mother–her Grace–thanks you for seeing us,” Jacearys spoke approaching Lord Stark. You stayed back a bit, letting your brother do the talking for now.

“Please, please, come in. We have a feast prepared, you shall sit at the high table with myself,” He patted Jace on the back hard, your brother letting out a cough at the impact. The Northerners were clearly not very concerned with the prim-and-proper treatment of royals. It was refreshing. You set your dragon away, leaving her to fly and explore, knowing she would return. You follow your brother, guards following you on either side—Lord Starks welcoming behavior did not reflect that of the guards he enforced. You knew it was risky of him to trust you, and he showed you that with the guards that stood by him and the sword that lay on his back. He was smart.

Warmth enveloped you as you entered the halls, every patron of the court stood and bowed as you all entered. They did not bow at you and your brother, however, but to the Warden. You’d heard of Northern stubbornness and now you were seeing it in full effect. They did not like outsiders and you saw that as they sent occasional glares to you. Lord Stark took a seat at the high table, you and Jace sitting on either side of him, though you protested to sit next to your brother.

"Please, be seated," Lord Stark's voice boomed throughout the hall, "I thank you all for welcoming the children of The Queen, the Prince, and Princess shall remain with us for a stay, I ask you all to extend your arms to them. Now eat your fill! Winter is coming," he spoke with such a high level of authority but it was so evident in the way his people listened attentively that they all respected him. And the mere fact that he had called Rhaenyra the Queen already struck something in the minds of his people.

You still did not speak, eating quietly as you listened to the conversations around you. Jace and Lord Stark spoke to each other, you could tell a bond was forming, the two seemed very alike already. Two young Lords, they knew power at such a small age. You watched the Warden from the corner of your eye, the way he spoke with Jacearys was firm, but not unfriendly, he knew what you and your brother came here to ask and he was setting his boundaries early–the type of move a king would make. Studying his face you noticed more and more, that his brow line was firm, and his eyes a steel grey, he was very much a Stark by all the accounts you'd read. He had a small scar running along the side of his cheek, one you couldn't help but wonder what it came from.

"Tell me, Princess," you turn your head to the young woman sitting beside you, a bit younger than yourself you guessed, "you came here with the intent of staying in the North, did you not?"

"Pardon me, Lady–?" you asked. Finally speaking.

"Just Sara, your Grace. You intend to marry my brother?" this was the Lord of Winterfell's sister, you recalled–a bastard–thinking back to your books on the North. Evidently, he was very committed to his family, considering he would let a bastard sit at the high table with him; let alone sit in the hall altogether.  

"The Queen's intention, yes," you bite back, still bitter at your mother for so easily sending you away for the sake of her crown.

"So you do not intend to?" the girl asked, genuine curiosity laced in her voice.

"No-well, yes..." You stutter, before taking a deep breath, "I do what the Queen asks of me."

"Do not fret, Princess, you will be well taken care of here," she sets a warm hand on your arm and gives you a soft smile, doing her best to calm you in your distressed state. "My brother may be a formidable warrior and leader, but don't let him fool you, he cares very much for those around him. Especially one so beautiful as you."

"Thank you, Sara. I apologize, I fear I've gotten caught up in my worries, leaving my family so suddenly, not even knowing if Lord Stark will accept the proposed betrothal. I have a lot on my mind." you laugh nervously, pushing your food around your plate with your fork (very un-ladylike your septa would tell you).

"You needn't say sorry, Princess," the girl was sweet, and you could tell it was genuine, hopefully, she'd be a fast friend. "And trust me, he will accept the proposal," she whispered to you sneakily.

"And how do you know that? Surely he has better offers," you combat, keeping your voice low as well, Lord Stark barely a foot away from you.

"My brother is smart. He plans to take your brother to the wall and discuss terms, leaving you here to put your impression on the people. He wouldn't have accepted the two of you here without learning more about you first, he knows the good you've done for the realm even as a young Lady. No matter the Queen's standings, he knows he would have someone good by his side. Someone the North could accept." there was something larger at play here you could tell, larger than both yourself and Lord Stark, larger than your mother and Aegon's petty argument. This was about the whole of the North.

"Moreover, my brother is a man, and no man could say no to a pretty woman with a dragon who could give him little dragon babies," she giggles, eliciting a laugh from you as well, "no man is smart enough for that." a louder laugh leaves your mouth from her comment, you cover your mouth with your hand, trying your best to be proper.

"Seems we already have two new friends!" Jacaerys voice interrupting your laughter, "Haven't heard her laugh in years, nose always stuck in a book." your brother teases making you roll your eyes. Lord Stark turns his body to face you, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Just as I hoped," he moved his gaze to his sister, his smile grew larger, and you could tell he was grateful for her warm demeanor. "Princess, would you care for a walk?" his eyes were still on his sister but he moved them quickly to you. You turn to Sara, and she gives you a smirk and a small nod, gently pushing your shoulder to go with the Warden.

"Y-yes, my Lord, it would please me greatly," you stand and bow your head. He extends his arm and you hold onto it politely. Even through the thickness of his tunic and cloak, you could feel how strong he was–and it made you blush.

The two of you didn't speak to one another as you walked the streets of Winterfell, he would stop occasionally to greet people though, goodness coming through his rough demeanor. You came to the godswood and walked through, the noise from the streets gone replaced with the whistling of the wind and the quieting chirps of birds as night fell.

"I spoke with your brother," his thick voice filled the silence, "but I wished to speak with you as well before we continue with our terms." He stopped walking and turned to face you, not letting go of your arm.

"Of course, Lord Stark," his lips turn up slightly on one side at your formality.

"As the Queen's terms stated, you need aid from the North, and in exchange, she will give me your hand in marriage. Is this what you wish?" He seemed concerned, more so than he should be.

"Of course, my Lord, whatever my Queen wishes of me." You bow your head to him in submission. Would he be a rough lover? You wondered. Everyone told tales of how brutal of a ruler he could be, how brutal a fighter. Would he be brutal with you? Only see to you to stick an heir in your womb?

"Is that what you wish, Princess?" his arm held yours tighter, a sense of urgency in his tone. "I know of your family, I know that marriage is a duty, it is here in the North too. But in the North, we believe there is also passion in marriage and love. I do not want you to subject yourself to this if you think I am only here to rule you."

"I-I wish for a happy life," you close your eyes, for the first time in your life speaking your truth plainly, "I wish for my family to be safe, children to care for, land for my dragon to fly in peace..." you trail off, his sister may have been right, he may care for those around him, but he was also dangerous to those he did not. Now all you could hope was that there was something he cared about in you.

"Then you shall have it," he spoke with the authority of a king. "I've heard of what you've done in Dragonstone and even King's Landing for your kinsman's people. I wish to have you by my side, not just to wife, but to show the North there is good still left, and we have her fighting for us."

"Thank you, for accepting the proposal, Lord Stark, it would be an honor to serve the North."

"Thank you, Princess," those steely eyes stared straight into yours and you believed him with every part of you. "I will take your brother further North to the wall to discuss the rest of our terms, when I return we shall be wed within a fortnight. Will you be alright here?"

"Yes, my Lord," you smile at him. Duty and passion he had said. You simply couldn't wait for his return, dying to see what his passion felt like.

You made your way back to the hall together, taking your seats again. They would leave at dawn he told you flying on dragon-back. You tried to get him to fly your dragon instead of going with Jace, but he insisted she stay here while he couldn't be here to protect you.

"Ever proud Northmen are," Sara whispered to you, "that dragon could protect an army," you giggle at her joke, glad you would have her here to keep you company the next coming days.

The next days you had hardly a moment's rest, busying yourself with learning more and more of the North's history within the Keep's library. At one point Sara held a lunch for you and some Ladies of the Court. "It will make a good impression." she'd told you. So you put on a smile and listened to the gossip that ensued. It took a moment for the Ladies to warm to you but once Sara revealed that Lord Stark was to have your hand in marriage they flurried into excitement, one of them even offering to sew together your wedding dress at once. You smiled, the North was a cold place, but it was clear that there was a warmth to be found in the community.

"My husband hasn't bed me in years," one of the ladies had said, several of them chiming in saying their husbands did the same, "what I'd give for one of those Stark men, I hear they bed you every night to ensure a babe takes..."

"I hear they know everything of a woman's pleasure, Lord Stark should surely pass a law to all our husbands to do the same."

"My maid saw him bathing once…told me he's got the largest member she's ever seen."

The words flew around you, the women all laughing and giving you jealous looks. Your face grew red at the thought of him bedding you, giving you all the children you could hope for. As wonderful as the welcome of these women was, it was also highly unusual for women in the South to talk about such things with one another, clearly another difference you'd have to grow accustomed to.

"Alright ladies, I'm sure the Princess would appreciate some respite on the wedding talk, as would I with hearing about my brother's cock," Sara spoke loudly, a teasing tone in her voice, but everyone listened nonetheless. She excused the two of you and led you outside for some fresh air. You wrapped the new fur cloak you were given tighter around yourself, still growing used to the cold.

You walked together for a bit before you heard the familiar screech of Vermax in the air. They weren't supposed to return for a few more days...perhaps they had come to an early agreement. You quicken your pace to the front gate, arriving just as your brother and Lord Stark entered.

"How was riding on dragon-back, Lord Stark?" you tease, walking to greet the two of them. But he didn't respond. He walked close to you, a solemn look in his eyes. Something had happened, what happened? He puts a cold hand on your shoulder, casting his gaze downward. "Is everything alright, my Lord?" your voice began to shake. He looks you in the eye once again before walking away. Had the engagement broken off? You wonder, your heart dropping slightly at the thought. Jacaerys didn't move from where he stood a few feet in front of you. His face was blank, void of any emotion trying to break through. "Jace...what's happened, am I to return home now?" he did not answer. You walked to him, grabbing his face in your hands to make him meet your gaze, "Jace, answer me. What's happened?" your voice firm, tears beginning to grow in your eyes from anger as he still said nothing. "Jacaerys!" you shout, and that's when you see it, a crumpled piece of parchment clutched in his hand. The broken seal was that of your mothers, she's sent a raven. Why? You grab the message from him and hastily unfold it, doing your best to make out the tear-stained ink.

No. No. It couldn't be real. Your brother. Your baby brother. The boy too brave for his own good. Lucaerys...

"This isn't real, it can't be..." your chest was tight and your vision began to blur, you looked around you, trying to find someone to give you answers, Jacaerys still mute. You stumbled blindly as your body began to wrack with gasping breaths, you ran into a solid body, grasping on to whoever it was and not letting go.

"Come, Princess, let's get you to your chambers," the deep Northern accent resonated from above you.

"No, my-my, no my baby brother..." your voice barely coherent, "my baby brother..."

"I know, I know, Princess, walk with me," Lord Stark did his best to keep his grasp on you, but to no avail.

"He was a child!" you screamed, pushing yourself away from him. "An innocent boy!" Your body began to tumble backward but Jace was right behind you, standing to hold you upright, his own eyes now leaking tears, trying as he might to keep a brave face. You struggle between the two men as they try to drag you back to the keep. You couldn't breathe, the air inside was suffocating. You threw open the window in your chambers sucking in a deep breath before collapsing to the ground.

You didn't know how many hours had passed, you cried until your tears ran dry and screamed until your lungs gave out. Your wails echoed through the halls. Now you sat beneath the open window, the cold air seeping into your bones as the fire in your chambers died down. War would break out soon over something so trivial. Your family had always been teetering on killing each other and you hated it. It wasn't just Aemond that killed Lucaerys, it was every single one of the Targaryens.

There was a soft knock at your door but you did not acknowledge. Not that it mattered, shortly after the knock the door opened and your brother entered. He shut the door behind him before making his way over to you and sliding down the wall to sit next to you.

"We will leave at dawn," he spoke, turning his head to face you.

"We? Jacaerys, I cannot go back there. This has gone on far too long, since the moment Aegon was born, I am finished being a part of this game of thrones," your voice was broken from the crying and screaming, and it was broken from the pain.

"Mother will want you safe, with her," he combated.

"Safe? I'm safe here Jace, away from the fighting, the safest I've been all my life. The engagement is set now and you have made your terms, my duty is to the North now, and to the North, it will stay," you spoke exasperatedly. You stood from your spot on the ground and made to tend the fire again, "Has Lord Stark given you adequate resources?" you question, trying to change the subject.

"2,000 of his older fighting men, greybeards, he calls them."

"Good, then you will take your leave at dawn. Tell mother I love her, but she cannot send me away only to try and take me back as soon as she loses a child," he nodded at you sadly, tears in his eyes, he was losing his sister too now. "Come here, I'm sorry, but this is what she wanted." You move to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly to you.

"At least let me stay for the wedding," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"You mustn't waste more time, avenge Luke for me, he was the best of us."

"I will. I promise," he told you, right as there was another knock at your door. You clear your hoarse throat, trying to sound the lady you were.

"Enter," yes you tried, but your voice still shook.

"My Prince, Princess," Lord Stark enters the room, giving you each polite nod.

"Please, Cregan, you needn't use formalities, I'm to be your brother soon after all," Jacaerys spoke up, trying his best to lighten the mood. Cregan gave him a smile before he continued speaking.

"Of course, that is what I came to ask. As you are leaving at dawn, I thought you may want to be here for your sister's wedding," his gaze turned to you, almost questioning. "I've had arrangements made and was curious to if the Princess would like for the ceremony to take place tonight?" you tried to interrupt, not sure if you could handle the festivities after such a loss you've endured, but he quickly cut you off before you could say anything, "It would be small, only us and a priest, we will have a feast to celebrate whenever you're ready, Princess." your brows turned down and adoration flooded you, he looked at you steadily for a response.

"Thank you, my Lord, I would love to have my brother here, your thought is much appreciated."

"Thank you, Cregan," Jace extended his hand to give him a firm handshake, the two exchanging grateful looks. The ceremony would be in half an hour under the weirwood tree in the godswood, in the sight of the old gods. It was growing late so you didn't bother trying to call a maid, instead you re-braided your own hair and put on the heavy cloak and thick wool dress you were gifted when you arrived in Winterfell, you looked positively Northern.

Jacaerys took your arm and walked you down the cobbled streets to the godswood, where Lord Stark would be waiting. You hadn't had much time to process everything, still so caught in Luke's passing, but you did know that as Sara once said, you would be well taken care of in Winterfell. It was a clear night, the moon and stars illuminated the path through the trees to where your soon-to-be husband stood. He looked regal standing there, the spitting image of a king. Your brother kissed your forehead before handing you over to Lord Stark. Your mind was foggy. I am his and he is mine. The only words that mattered, and the only ones you would remember.

Your goodbyes to Jace were tearful. He couldn't wait until dawn to leave so he mounted his dragon and left, you knew it was because up there, so high in the clouds he could cry, he didn't have to be a prince.

You walked back to your chambers, Lord Stark escorting you. You weren't sure if you could do this, he would want to consummate you were positive of it, but after the day you'd had...you couldn't muster your strength. You came to your door and waited for him to enter before you shut the door behind you, you stood there, not certain if you should wait for him or just get it over with. You turned and watched as he removed his cloak before adding another log to the fire. Get it over with. You told yourself, removing your own cloak and boots before starting on the strings of your dress.

"What are you doing, Princess?" He looked at you, confused, walking over to you quickly and pulling your dress back on your shoulders.

"This is my duty, Lord Stark," you said tearfully. He gave a slight laugh before taking your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.

"No, no, not tonight, I only came to tend your fire, it's been a long day for you, I will never expect anything of you." you wrapped your arms around him suddenly, aching to be held. And that he did, one arm was around your shoulders and the other cradled the back of your head pulling you close.

"Thank you, again, my Lord," you mumbled into his chest. He pushed you away, and a teasing smile played on his face.

"Never mind, I will expect one thing of you, and that is to call me by my name, no more 'My Lords' or 'Lord Stark'. You are my wife."

"Then thank you, Cregan, for treating me so very well," you smiled at him, "no more 'princess' either, I am no longer one after all," you spoke back. The smile on your face turns down.

"Very well, I will leave you to rest then," he spoke your name as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and made his way to the door. You didn't want him to leave. He was yours now, you wanted him with you, to protect you and care for you in your hours of sorrow.

"Cregan," you called out softly, your dress now slipping off your shoulders again. He turned back, a hopeful look in his eye, "Stay with me?" he said nothing as he walked back to you, ridding himself of the cloak he held before removing his boots, you continued with the strings of your dress, trying your best to reach behind your back when you suddenly felt warm fingers entangled with yours and he continued your work. You were left in a linen slip, standing close to the fire to keep yourself warm. You watched as he unbuckled his belt and removed his doublet, he walked slowly to one side of the bed and placed his formidable sword next to the bed. He held back the fur coverings and nodded to you, motioning you to climb in the bed. Your steps were slow and cautious, but you trusted him. You moved beneath the furs, instantly feeling much warmer, your body heated even more when Cregan moved in next to you holding out his arm so you could fall into his body. It felt right, you were warm, you were safe, you were cared for. Your head lay across his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as you fell asleep.

"Always, dear wife," he spoke into the silence of the night where he soon fell asleep with you to the dying embers on the hearth.

_________________

You spent your days the next few weeks trying to take hold of your grief, you did your best, keeping your head buried in books to distract yourself. Cregan would take you with him to various meetings and suppers, you were thankful for the distraction and you slowly drew closer to him. You continued on with your arrangement, he would see to your chambers in the evening, tend the fire, and climb into the bed with you, stroking your hair till you slept. But with that, you grew more and more frustrated, his closeness began to stir something in you, a deep longing. You woke one night with the space beside you empty, you sat up in the bed hastily calling out his name. He was standing at the window staring into the darkness of the night, he had taken his tunic off, something he hadn't done in front of you yet, and his back was stiff and muscular from years of training. His arms–now bare–you could see exactly how strong he was, a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't heard you call his name so you slowly slid out of the bed, tugging on the silk robe one of your ladies' maids had embroidered for you, direwolves wrapping around your neck, and snowflakes falling down the sleeves. You walked to where Cregan stood, standing close to him and peering out the window along with him. The wolves were howling in the night causing a chill to run through you, you still couldn't tell what their cries meant, were they mourning with you? Were they angry? Hungry?

"It's said the blood of the first men runs through your veins, that I believe," you spoke into the night. "there's also a folk tale that says the Stark men who have that blood can turn to direwolves when they wish, that... I'm still not sure of." Cregan smiles at the sound of your sleepy voice.

"You've been reading," he states, looking to meet your eyes.

"Yes, I like learning about your people, and your library is always kept so warm," you giggle, thinking of the cozy days you've spent in there.

"I wish that tale were true...it would make ruling so much easier, I wouldn't have to go to meetings anymore, I could intimidate people without having to use my sword, protect my people better..." he sounded hopeful as if he believed he still had a chance for the tale to come true.

"You are a good ruler, you would make a splendid King," you told him, grabbing his hand to hold within yours, despite the cold of the night you could feel his blood still running hot.

"A King?" he questioned, never more than just the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

"Your people were kings for thousands of years, my ancestors took that away from you so they could unite and rule a monarchy," you say, speaking of all the books you've been reading, "In my eyes, you are still the King in the North, and the North remembers, your people remember."

"What you speak is treason, treason to your mother the Queen, and your family!" A man of honor. He pledged himself to the Queen, he would not back out of his oath, even if this is what the North had for thousands of years.

"Perhaps, but my duty is here now. We will let them fight amongst themselves as we prepare for something bigger...your kin, and mine," you give him a look of urgency. "My mother told me of the Prince who was Promised. The Song of Ice and Fire. The book I've seen sitting on your desk..." he knows what is to happen, every Stark Lord is told and does well to abide by it. Cregan was shocked to know you had knowledge of it, and even more shocked that you would put aside your family and call yourself a traitor all for a prophecy.

"My wife..." he trails, worried that this would grow into something far out of his reach.

"Your oath to the prophecy proceeds that of your oath to my mother. We will not betray her, but we must survive for the whole of the realm," you're holding both his hands now, looking at him desperately. He knows this is true.

"We will survive," he states, agreeing with you. "but I will not be the king."

"You will be my King," your eyes draw closed as you sink to your knees. "I have wed myself to you, now I pledge myself to you, I know no King, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark." His eyes fill with adoration as he looks down at you, soon following suit to kneel with you on the ground.

"Then you will be my Queen," his words ring clear and true as he rests his forehead against yours, drawing you close to him. "come to bed with me, our celebration feast is tomorrow, and you need your rest." He stands and extends his hand to help you up and doesn't let go once you are standing as well. He leads you to the bed letting you get yourself comfortable before laying beside you, your faces mere inches away as you stare into one another's eyes.

"Cregan," you whisper, your eyes flitting down to look at his lips, his mouth was slightly open and he spoke your name back to you, "Please kiss me." he wasted not a second, moving those few inches to connect your lips, he was warm all over, the pure fire that warmed the North, his lips were dry and slightly cracked but they were full and consumed you whole. He pulled away before anything went too far and a giggle left your mouth as you looked at his reddened face. He smiled at you before placing another kiss on your forehead and pulling you close. You both fell asleep fast, holding each other until the sun rose.

The next day was a flurry of commotion to prepare for the feast. The lady from the lunch you'd had with Sara (who you now learned was Lady Umber, wife of Lord Umber) insisted you wore the dress she had sewn for your wedding ceremony, claiming you had to wear it to the feast if the ceremony had already happened. You complied for the dress was stunning, thick and woolen, a real northern dress lined with white furs and embroidered with the direwolf sigil. Foods were rushed into the great hall as garlands were hung on the hearths. One of your ladies was finishing braiding your hair in a northern fashion like you'd insisted when there was a knock at your door.

"My Lord," your lady bowed before finishing the braid and swiftly exiting to leave the two of you alone.

"You look beautiful," Cregan said softly as he made his way over to you, he grabbed a piece of your silver hair between his fingers and twirled it, "I do hope our children take after their mother." he teased, letting go of your hair in favor of taking your hand to place a kiss on your knuckle.

"I hope they take after their father," you tease back, "true little wolves they'd be," he smiled brightly at you, but behind his eyes, there was a darkness, a yearning, one that you knew for certain he had been holding back for weeks.

"Let's be on our way then, the people are waiting for the new Lady of Winterfell," even though the two of you were wed already, it still didn't feel real thinking that you were to be the new Lady of Winterfell. You'd done your best in your mourning of Lucaerys to try and connect with the people, all you could hope is that they would accept you now.

The feast was in full swing when you arrived, shouts and songs echoed in the hall but all grew silent as you and Cregan entered, making your way to the head table. You reached the front and turned to face the people, hand in hand.

"Thank you all for welcoming our new Lady of Winterfell!" Cregan shouted over the masses, and a roar of cheers erupted. "You will do well to remember our new allegiance to the Queen Rheanyra and keep your honor. These past weeks as you've welcomed our new Lady of Winterfell you may know that she has lost a brother to the usurper of the Iron Throne, we will keep in the North for our duties, but if war reaches us, think of the Prince Lucaerys and his sister, the North remembers!" more shouts echo in the halls as tears fill your eyes at the mention of your brother.

"Now, this is a celebration of our marriage, please, celebrate!" the halls resume their shouts and songs as Cregan leads you to your seat beside him, your glasses immediately being filled to the brim with wine. You make eye contact with your husband, giving him a grateful look, a silent thank you. He gives your hand a squeeze in acknowledgment.

As the celebrating continues Lords and Ladies of the surrounding Northern lands flood to your table, gifting you with all sorts of words and treasures–mostly it was the ladies sneakily whispering if you'd been bred proper yet–to which your response was a deep blush before sending them away. You do your best to match the names of those you read about to the faces you saw. Currently speaking to you were the Lord and Lady Mormont of Bear Island, more so the Lord Mormont and Cregan discussing recent wildling attacks further North. You and Lady Mormont faced each other in an awkward silence, Sara beside you at the high table waiting for the conversation to start.

"So... Lady Stark can we hope for some wolf pups soon, maybe even an heir to Winterfell?" of all the things she chose to speak about...

"Oh um...yes, I suppose..." You try to smile along. Sara beside you stifling a laugh

"Surprised you aren't already, those Stark men are something fierce," she continues.

"What are we speaking of now wife?" Lord Mormont chimes in. Oh no. He was a burly man, one of honor and tradition...

"Oh I was just asking the Lady Stark when we should expect a babe," she laughs, linking her arm with her husbands.

"She's not yet?" Mormont sounds exasperated, "You may be my Lord, Stark, but come on lad! You should be fucking her till your seed takes, surely it's been too long now!" your face grows redder than it was already, an uneasy look on your face, this had gone too far. Cregan could see the look on your face and immediately took control.

"That'll be enough, Mormont," his voice went lower in pitch as he reminded Lord Mormont of his place. "I think it's high time we all retired, I will send a raven when I need to speak to you, no sooner will I hear from you." Lord Mormont looked down in shame, put in his rightful place.

"Yes, My Lord, My Lady," a single bow and he and his wife were on their way, the rest of the people in the hall filling out shortly after hearing the altercation. Cregan stood and took your hand again, walking you to your chambers at a fast pace, one you could hardly keep up with. Once in the room, he slammed the door shut before throwing down his cloak and rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I should've warned you people in the North are very attached to customs–" you cut him off.

"When will you bed me?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"I-I believed you wanted to wait longer..." He trails off, slightly taken aback by your question.

"I'm tired of laying next to you in bed growing more and more desperate each night," you spoke your truth and saw his back straighten, eyes darkening as he walked closer to you, almost stalking you like prey, "I cannot say how many Ladies tonight asked me if you'd put a babe in me yet."

He loomed closer to you, "And what did you tell them..." the hairs on your neck stood at the deepness of his voice.

"I-I didn't say anything," you respond, head hanging down. He lifts your chin to meet his gaze.

"But what did you want to tell them?"

"That you'd fill me every night till a babe took." your voice grew confident, he was giving you the sense that this was something he deeply, deeply, desired.

"Would you like to do that?" his hand cradled your face now, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat, and thoughts flood your mind about what he would be like, he was a strong man, but he was gentle with you, would he be desperate enough to take you hard?

"Give me a babe, Cregan," it was over. All sense of self-control that he held was now burning in the fire. The hand that was on your face moved to the back of your head, tugging you to meet his lips, he devoured you. It wasn't like the gentle kiss he gave you last night, it was depraved, his tongue wrapped around yours, teeth clashing together with an uncontrolled hunger. His mouth began to move down your neck and you felt him nip at you, soothing over the spot with his tongue. He began to walk backward towards the bed, still holding your body close. Your hands grew restless, grabbing onto him anywhere that you could, you soon found them tangled in his hair, tugging slightly.

His hands were roaming your body now, he was restraining himself from ripping your dress right off of you, but he knew it would make you sad, what a pretty dress. He moved his hands back, beginning to undo the buckles on his doublet, you broke away from his kiss for a moment and leaned down to remove your boots. It was all a flurry of motion as the two of you hastily began to undress yourselves, at this point, he was left in only his trousers and you in your shift and corset. You made eye contact for a moment the both of you smiling giddily. He raised his hands and started on the laces on the back of your corset, his arms were wrapped around you, your face staring straight at his chest where you grew bold and started to press kisses across the expanse. The corset–now loosened–fell from your body, Cregan could see the hardness of your nipples through the thin slip dress and proceeded to cup your breasts in his hands, tweaking the hardened peaks through the fabric. Slowly–so slowly you hadn't even noticed at first–he sank to his knees in front of you, when he reached the ground his hands started running up and down your legs caressing you while moving the shift upwards. He took one hand and placed it on the center of your belly, pushing, and in one motion you lay back on the bed, your husband still on his knees in front of you. he continued to move the dress up until it hung around your waist, you sat up on your elbows and looked down at him nervously, your center now fully exposed to him.

"Do not worry, sweet wife, I want to make you feel good," you nodded at him as he drew closer to you, his hands slowly dragging up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing the insides gently, growing closer and closer to your heat. He spread your legs further apart, looking at you once more before taking a finger and running it through your slick. You moaned out a curse and fell back onto the bed, the furs around you enveloping you in warmth. Cregan carries on running his fingers through your sex, they would barely dip inside of you before he moved them back up to circle your clit, causing a teasing repetition.

"Please, Cregan, I need more," you beg.

"More? You really have been needy," he teases, his other hand moving underneath you to squeeze your behind, "Alright, then, whatever my wife wants, she shall get." You were waiting for him to move, to get up and remove his trousers so he could fuck you. But no, his warm mouth licked a stripe up your slit and followed the same motions his fingers did, never staying in one place long enough. You cried out again, moving your hands down to tangle in his hair again. He teased you a little longer before his mouth kept place on your pulsing bud, alternating between sucking and licking at you. It was heavenly, you'd never been touched like this by a man, he was pouring all his adoration into you. And as good as it did feel, you still needed more, you felt nothing would satiate you until you were dripping with his seed.

"I-I want you to fuck me now," you barely breathe out between heavy breaths, he moves his head away from your core after pressing one last kiss to your clit. A smirk grew on his face, loving the way you were practically begging for his cock. He moved agonizingly slow, standing to his feet and staring down at where you lay on the bed. He refused to move his gaze away from you as he began untying the strings on his trousers, "please..." you breathe out in a breath of desperation. His trousers fell to the ground and you move your eyes to his center where his cock hung heavy, tip red and leaking, aching for your wetness to swallow him whole.

"You want me to fill you up now?" you nodded eagerly, itching to feel his body on top of you. He lifts you by the waist pushing your body up the bed like you weigh nothing, he removes your shift entirely now, pulling it swiftly over your head. "Tell me if you need to stop, alright? His tone shifted into seriousness. You breathe a yes in response. His body moves to hover over you and his head dips down to press gentle kisses against your chest, trailing down to lick at your nipples. You feel one of his hands reach between your bodies before the blunt head of his member runs through your slick. You grab onto his upper arms, steadying yourself as you prepare for him to push into you, he goes torturously slow and you grip onto him harder, a silent way of begging him to take you already. The stretch hurts a bit, not as bad as everyone had told you but the wetness surely helped dull some of the pain. He groans as he seats himself in you fully, not moving, you rock your hips into him trying to create some friction.

"Cregan, please, it feels so good, just take me already!" he lets out a breathless laugh at your restlessness, his mouth open and panting. He pulls out in one motion before thrusting into you again. And again. And again. This is what you had wanted, for this fierce warrior to lose himself in you fulfilling a yearning desire to fill you up completely. Your moans ring against the walls and you do your best to hold yourself together before you utterly fall apart. The bed creaks as he rocks into you, his pace growing quicker and quicker.

"Fuck!" Cregan grunts out through clenched teeth. The sight above you is heavenly, strands of his dark hair frame his face, some sticking slightly where a sweat begins to sheen on his brow. His jaw was tight, and his body was stiff, a deep concentration in his features. Then, in one sudden movement, he pulls himself out of you to flip you onto your front, yanking your hips up before plunging deep inside you again. The pleasure from this angle was insurmountable, the head of his cock hit the back of your tight walls repeatedly, fucking straight into your womb. You prayed for a brief moment, begging whatever gods were listening that his seed would take and you would soon have pups to take care of. His hands gripped your hips tight, surely there would be bruises tomorrow and surely he would feel horrible about it, but you cared not. The rawness of his passion would remain on your body. A subtle heat grew in your belly and it became warmer and warmer.

"Cregan, I-I think something is happening," you mutter from where your face was squished into the furs on the bed. He groaned out another curse before speaking again.

"Let go, let go for me," his voice still strained in pleasure, "I'm gonna fill you up now, and every. Single. Night. Until it takes," his thrusts annunciating his speech. The coil in your belly grew tighter until it finally snapped and you moaned out blissfully. His thrusts didn't stop and you grew more and more sensitive, but he did not last much longer after you, cursing out one final time before emptying himself right against your cervix.

When he pulled out of you, you could feel his expense steadily beginning to drip out of you, but his fingers soon found your center again, scooping it up before pushing it back inside of you. And if that wasn't the most arousing thing ever...

"Can't have you wasting any of that, can we?" he wipes his fingers off on the bed and climbs in under the furs, beckoning you to come lay with him. You crawl to him and fall into him unceremoniously. His arms pull you in close and hold you tight and his lips fall down to press a kiss to the top of your head. There was a smile on your face, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to stop smiling. You shift your head and turn to look him in the eye, only to find he is already looking at you, his own smile shining down at you.

"Even after a babe takes..." you begin and his eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of the chambers, "can we still do that?" his smile grows wider and he huffs out a small laugh.

"Of course! I don't know if I would be able to keep myself off of you knowing that you are carrying our child, you'll be the most beautiful mother." he lifts a hand to stroke your hair, the same way he's done the nights you've shared the past few weeks.

"Well, then I hope we'll have a little prince or princess on the way soon," his brow furrows in confusion at the titles and he asks a silent question with his eyes, "You are a king after all! Our babes will be royalty."

"I've told you, I'm no king," his eyes held back a sadness.

"As I have told you, dear husband, you are my king," it was your turn to hold his face in your hands, the stubble on his cheeks scratching against your palms, "I will know no other." he leaned down to press his forehead against yours and you sat together in the quiet of the night, with only the company of each other until you fell asleep. A sleep where you dreamed of a family with him, boys running through the godswood being chased playfully by their father, a young girl sitting upon your lap as you flew your dragon over the forests of the vast Northlands. The lands where your husband would be your king.

[konigsblog]

OCTOBER 5TH — DENTIST!SOAP. Who would've thought that a simple, quick dentist visit would end in tears and a bloody mess? (KIDNAPPING, NON-CON, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS)

2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 5)

You never appreciated male dentists. You always found that they were too rough and firm against your teeth, lacking gentleness and softness, and Johnny wasn't an exception. The agonising sore throats you'd have after waking up were excused as nothing more than a common side effect. Sure, the taste on your tongue was bitter and salty and your throat ached for days afterwards, but you didn't dare question his work or throw around dangerous and threatening accusations.

Soap visibly cared for all of his patients, although, his affection for you always felt inappropriate, his touch feeling unnecessary. Despite being his patient, you saw him more often than you didn't, as if he was keeping a tab on you — keeping a watchful and predatory gaze on you. You found him in your favourite coffee shops, in your local library, despite living in a different city from you. You found him walking the streets, his eyes always fixated on your figure.

You never thought it would escalate to this degree, despite all the warnings Johnny had given you. His perverted glances and behaviour, how you always felt unusual after appointments with him. He'd look for any excuse to drug you up, using your throat without your knowledge as compensation for his hard work. You wouldn't dare question his abilities, would you?

You wished you had. Your surroundings felt distant and unfamiliar. You could feel the hard and messy concrete floor against your knees, his rough and calloused hands gripping your jaw firmly, with your mouth pried open around his leaking, swollen cock. His thrusts were cruel and brutal, giving you no time to react, to defend yourself from his selfish and violating actions. Not that he noticed anyway, with his head thrown over his shoulder, lost in the addictive sensation of your slick mouth drooling and slobbering around his growing shaft. His threats were haunting, your stomach churning simply at the thought.

“Quit using’ yer teeth,” Johnny growled out hoarsely, his groans full of selfish and entitled pleasure, with the head of his creamy cock prodding against the back of your throat. Your eyes quickly welled with tears, your bottom lip quivering around his base as you struggled to adapt to his stoff length and girth, gagging instinctively at the sickening and disturbing realisation.

“I won’t hesitate to pull yer teeth out, Lassie...” His blunt and trimmed fingernails dug into your soft cheeks, his hold only tightening as he stuffed your mouth. You heaved and panted, nausea washing over you, your skin sweaty and clammy, your hair sticking to your face with his filthy scent pungent and potent, his pubes grazing against your nose as he forced his way down your gummy, smooth throat.

You knew his threats weren't an exaggeration, that he truly wouldn't hesitate to leave your used mouth dripping with crimson blood after taking a pair of pliers to your teeth, ripping them from your gums, your pearly teeth laying against the filthy ground with a pair of pliers ruined and soaked in your bloody saliva. You'd learn to become a set of holes for the deranged and debauched sicko if you wanted to keep that pretty mouth that he loved "working on".

[itsswritten]

shadow violet

Pairing: Fairy x Azriel

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: Some fluff between your favourite couple (pre bond snapping)

Wings Universe - More from this world.

Something had brought Azriel to the city that morning, an invisible string pulling on his heart that had himself and his shadows restless. So he found himself walking the hard cobblestone streets of Velaris under the rising sun, its rays shifting through the gaps on the townhouses. His shadows gracefully dancing between the tall dark silhouettes they created on the ground as Azriel walked through the heart of the city.

His hands stuffed into his trouser pockets, black shirt tousled and buttons undone at the top, in a casual way that was fitting for a Sunday and somewhat unusual for him.

Azriel had never been the casual type, not in style, not in persona, nor in actions. However in recent years Azriel had to learn how to adopt a more casual way of living, especially now peace had settled over the land. The highly acclaimed Spymaster and his services weren’t as in demand as they once were. Weekends became a time he could actually indulge in, however the notion quickly became monotonous and well…lonely. The lone Shadowsinger had no one to share this extra time with. 

Azriel would often pick up extra work, begging Rhys to give him some scouting or research mission so he didn’t have to spend another weekend alone. His family were busy now, had their own lives filled with littlings or mates to fuss over, and Azriel would never be the type to express discern. He couldn’t selfishly confess his feelings of isolation, trap his loved ones in guilt when all they were doing was pursuing exactly what the Mother had intended. 

So he carried his woes silently, like he always had.

Azriel was really looking forward to Solstice though. A time he knew he would get with all his family, and of course, you. He couldn’t deny to himself that he was especially looking forward to seeing you.

He hadn’t seen you in some time now, such a dutiful fairy always working hard that only in a few lucky moments, he had managed to catch you in passing. When you were dropping something off for Rhys, swapping a book with Nesta, or the rare night you were able to join him and Mor at Rita’s. He was missing you, and judging by his restless shadows they were missing your company too. It was like an itch that couldn’t be scratched. An addiction that would only be satiated by your presence.

Azriel knew what that meant. He had lived in this world for over 500 years now to understand the feelings that had grown for you, but despite his plethora of worldly experience, being honest about his growing infatuation that had so clearly turned into something more was too hard to confess.

Azriel strided towards the morning market, some stalls still setting up as he felt himself come to a stop. Something physical compelling his steps to halt in their tracks, drawing his attention to turn.

To look elsewhere. 

A pull tugging him towards something– you.

There you were. 

Wind blowing your hair gently in the soft morning breeze while you sat soundly on a bench by the Sidra. Your head rolling to the side, chest breathing deeply.

With quick strides Azriel followed his shadows, who were always quicker than him when it came to you. Flurrying closely around you, they vibrated inches away from your skin but without permission wouldn’t dare touch you in your sleeping state. 

Azriel crouched by your feet, gazing at your soft face, your lips slightly parted as you snoozed. You looked so angelic in the morning light, in any light in fact. In light, in darkness, you were always so beautiful. The effect you had on him, was like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life before.

He scrutinised over you, hands coming down to the bench either side as he was kneeled, his arms caging you in a protective but gentle manner.

Had you been overworking yourself? Azriel questioned, taking in your working garments covered in soil and a large basket by your side that seemed to be filled to the brim, a cotton cloth covering the top. 

He didn’t like the idea of you overworking yourself so much that you’d actually fallen asleep in the city. Despite Velaris being somewhat safe, the idea stirred a fear deep within his gut. You were always taking care of everyone, the meadows, creatures and people that lived on this land, that Azriel for the first time wondered who took care of you.

The notion had him reeling at a possibility that maybe it could be him. That he could be the one so lucky to take care of you. Making sure you got back from your night shifts safe, ensuring you had a nutritious meal at the end of a hard day’s work, indulging in morning lie-ins with you on his plentiful-empty weekends— he was getting carried away.

But the desire remained, he wanted to take care of you.

It was something he fantasised about often, a life with you. If he was ever brave enough to cross that blurred line of friendship you both always seemed to dance along.

Gently he reached up, moving the pieces of your hair that had fallen in front of your face with a soft whisper of your name. His fingers grazing the strands behind your ear, fingertips dusting across the skin of your cheek.

The feather-light touch stirred you, brows furrowing while a soft sleepy noise left your lips. Your eyes fluttered open with a frown.

“Azriel?” You slurred softly in a dreamy state. 

Azriel often appeared in your dreams. Dreams so addictive that at times lulling yourself from slumber for work felt arduous. 

Your fingers moved on their own accord, driven by that sleepy illusion that blurred boundaries. Your hand coming to cup his face, thumb grazing the peak of his cheekbone while your eyes adjusted through their haze. Azriel felt his own lids shut for a moment, indulging in the rare touch you offered him. An intimate gesture that wasn’t always common in your friendship, although over the past couple years, there had been a few soft grazes and touches. Fleeting and secretive, moments that you both locked away for none else to see.

Moments Azriel hoped meant just as much to you as they did to him.

Azriel watched as your lids blinked heavily, the drowsy lull evident in the way your lip rolled into your mouth. Lashes fluttering as you looked down at him in a way he often dreamt about.

He could have stayed in that moment, savoured it for longer. Though, it was the innocence in your touch that stopped him indulging. Reluctantly lifting his hands to yours, his scarred fingers softly wrapping around your wrist that was now caressing his cheek.

In a fleeting moment he pressed the corner of his lips to leave a small kiss on the palm of your hand before pulling it fully away.

“You fell asleep by the river y/n,” he said softly, concern lacing his tone.

“Oh,” you replied confused, a hard frown pressing over your brows as you seemed to adjust to reality. “Oh…my…” you suddenly realised, his words finally waking you as your eyes widened.

“I was…I was waiting for the market to open,” you told him, a rosy flush spreading on your cheeks as Azriel’s soft intimate touch seemed to burn your palm. 

You could still feel the kiss he left on your skin.

For a moment of composure, you quickly glanced over your shoulder, the morning market now bustling as the noise of shopkeepers and sellers drifted down the Sidra.

“Oh stars, I must have fallen asleep while I was waiting,” you huffed with a smile, turning back to look at the beautiful male who was still kneeled by your feet. “I’ve been on the night shift in the meadows.”

“I know,” Azriel replied, his lips pulling a smile in return.

Of course he knew. He always knew everything you were doing. He hadn’t seen you in what felt so long because of your damned shift pattern and he’d been missing you terribly. 

He always missed you, he realised. Maybe it was you he had been missing his whole life.

Azriel had known you for almost two years, a presence that had completely consumed him that the mere thought of you not being in it was enough to make him shiver. Thoughts like these were enough to convince him to confess, but it was the risk of rejection. The risk of ruining the special friendship you had built that trapped him.

Your usual happy tone rang through his thoughts, your sleepiness clearly gone and an excitement spreading across your face. “Actually it’s a good thing you found me...”

Azriel quirked his brow in question.

“I’ve got something for you,” you beamed.

“For me?” His voice cracked.

You nodded sweetly, tapping the space beside you before guiding him from the cobblestones to the bench.

“Now you mustn’t tell anyone about this Azriel,” you warned him with a small bite of your lip, your finger pointing at him.

“I won’t, I swear it” he replied. He’d do anything you asked he realised then, take secrets to the grave, kneel by your feet— anything. 

“Okay,” you had grabbed something from your basket, silk fabric folded on your hand concealing something.

“Have you ever heard of a Shadow Violet Azriel?”

Azriel shook his head, his eyes watching the way your lips formed his name. How your tongue sang the syllables in the sweetest way. He’d never considered his name beautiful, but coming from your lips it sounded heavenly. 

Actually anything you spoke sounded that way.

“It’s a flower that blooms once every millennium, if that” you continued, your tone shifting to one Azriel recognised. A tone he had quickly become enamoured with whenever you went off on a spiel about nature, or meadows, or animals.

“It’s only small, one might miss it if you don’t know where to look.” You shifted closer to the Shadowsinger, eyes glancing up as you continued. “It’s a flower that blooms in the shadows. Flourishes and grows to become its own source of light even in the darkest crevices of the forest.”

Azriel listened intently.

“It’s so magical and marvellous Azriel, and last night...” you leaned in closer, your words coming to a hush.

Azriel’s heart skipped a beat.

“I found one.”

Azriel watched as you carefully unfolded the soft fabric to reveal a beautiful flower. It’s petals an iridescent sapphire that glowed in the morning  light. A glow, that Azriel felt resembled something of you. A radiance that he could only compare to the female sat next to him.

And even though he made that comparison himself, found it so easy to make the connection between a flower and someone he found beautiful, what left your lips next struck deep within his chest.

“And when I saw it Azriel, I thought of you. A flower blooming in the shadows…a source of light, even in the darkest corners. Even in the most crowdest rooms, with the dimmest faelights I always find you, your light always reaches me…” your words drifted off, the sentence had just rolled off your tongue like honey before you noticed how under every letter there was some kind of unspoken confession.

Azriel felt his breathing falter for a moment, your eyes connecting with his as the silence between you seemed to speak of so much. You looked so vulnerable to him in that moment, that had him thinking of the first moment he met you. That night in Rita’s when you’d gotten all flustered after meeting all of them.

Azriel breathed your name. 

With haste you stood, folding the silk over the flower and pushing it into Azriel’s hands. A vibration hazing over his skin at the touch. 

“Anyway, I wanted you to have it.” Space was put between you both quickly, and Azriel watched as you seemed to brush the moment off with humour, “Just don’t let the fairy council know you have it, they’ll be really annoyed with me that I haven’t taken it to the archives.”

Azriel blinked.

You grabbed your basket “I must go, I need to exchange some bits at the market before getting some sleep.”

Azriel stood in a flurry then, watching as you began to walk away. Calling out your name, you stopped, glancing over your shoulder to look at him.

“You’re joining us for Solstice right?”

Your smile stretched to your eyes, cheeks rosy as your head bobbed a quick nod “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I’ll see you then,” Azriel smiled.

You smiled back, your hand stretching a soft wave before you hurried up the market. 

Azriel watched till he could know longer see you, his shadows whispering about the stall you had headed to.

He looked down then, taking another look at the flower wrapped in silk between his hands. A symbolic version of him, a version of him you had seen. Something no one else had ever compared him to.

No one had considered him equal to something so beautiful. It was that moment he decided.

At Solstice he would confess his love for you.

a/n: Oh hey strangers...sorry I've been so mia! I guess this is what having a big girl job is actually like :( I miss writing so so much, and miss these characters and worlds. I just sadly don't have the mental capacity to write as much as I did. That being said, if you're still lingering around I hope you enjoy this little installment. Please ignore any grammar mistakes, like I said I haven't been able to write in a while and I can really tell, so this is not my best work. But I thought posting was better than nothing! <3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

Wings tags: @minaethrym

[sometimesanalice]

Sweetest Devotion

Summary: Loving Bradley is the easiest thing you've ever done, and coming home to him is always the best part of your day. Especially when you come home with cake. But a slight mixup at the bakery leads to the sweetest of promises.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5k

Warnings: So much fluff (side effects may include giggling and kicking your feet)

(Author’s Note: this fic was written for my one year celebration of the ‘Like I Can’ series, but it can be read on its own!)

After a long week, there was no place you’d rather be than at home with Bradley.

The two of you have been living together for a couple of months now, but seeing his Bronco parked in the driveway of the condo you shared knowing the empty spot next to it is meant for your own still made your heart flutter out of sheer giddiness.

Even if he still teased you about your practical Honda Civic’s lack of street cred. But it did have a spacious backseat with its own set of doors and an actual trunk, unlike the Bronco.

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. Those days you just got to preen as you handed over your car keys to him. Sure, you could be the one to drop him off, but it was funnier watching the way he valiantly attempted to hold back his grimace as he tried to adjust the driver’s seat to comfortably fit his bulk.

As you pull into your spot, you’re hit with that same gust of summer breeze warmth you always are as you. It was a feeling you didn’t expect to go away any time soon.

It takes a bit of finesse getting the front door open with your work tote and purse slung over one shoulder while you cradled the paper bags of bread and box of treats you’d stopped for on the way home in the other.

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he was making dinner earlier, but had forgotten the bread during his grocery run and had asked if you didn’t mind making a quick stop to grab some. He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice.

Especially after the way he had teased you in the shower this morning.

You picked up the baguette that he’d requested along with a couple loaves of fresh bread for sandwiches that you were planning to stick in the freezer for later. At the checkout, they’d had a few fun pink bakery boxes packed with six individually wrapped cake slices in different flavors. It seemed like more fun than the basic red velvet cupcakes you had been debating as you waited for your turn to pay, so you’d picked up one of those boxes too. Since it was Friday, you figured a little treat was very much deserved after such a long week.

The two of you had just gotten back from a little trip back home not too long ago, but you were already dying for another vacation. Ideally one that involved creamy blended beverages served in coconuts and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight.

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. You’ve always gone home for holidays, but it had been years since he’d been there with you. Some things had stayed the same like the ice cream shop where Bradley had had his first job. And some things had changed with the times like the empty parking lot where he’d first taught you how to drive was now the site of an upscale organic grocery store. Now that you and Bradley were you and Bradley, the nostalgia of your younger years felt extra sweet as you’d strolled with his hand tucked yours.

It’s a miracle you get through the door without dropping anything.

You’re waiting to hear the scamper of little paws against the laminate floor headed your way as you kick off your heels, Duck was usually the first one to greet you when you got home.

The puppy was growing all too quick for your liking. For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo.

Even if Bradley still got huffy about the name and how Duck had come to be in your life.

On the occasional night when Bob’s friend Casey from the animal shelter- the man you’d been on exactly half of a date with once close to a year ago- was invited to come hang out, your boyfriend always was finding reasons to stand a little closer to you or leave his hands lingering a little longer on your hips. Those nights usually end with the two of you sweaty and out of breath, tangled in the sheets of your canopy bed.

You can hear Bradley singing along with one of his playlists in the kitchen and the sounds of drawers opening and closing as you tuck your purse and tote under the side table at the entrance. You smile to yourself as you drop your key fob into the bowl where his are already resting, the key to his Bronco was on the same keychain with the little fighter jet charm that you’d given him when you were teens when Mav had given him the Montero for his 16th birthday.

Taking the bread and box of cake slices with you, you pass through the living room you see Duck passed out belly up on his Sherpa lined dog bed. His ears flopped out to the side and his little paws twitching as he dreams about chasing balls or squirrels. It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone.

“I’m home,” you greet, rounding the corner to the kitchen, the savory smell of onions and garlic growing stronger the closer you get, “And I come bearing a baguette.”

Standing in front of the stove is Bradley with a checkered kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. His curls look a little damp, still drying from the shower he must have taken earlier. The soft looking shirt he’s wearing is pulled taut across his back, and the sweatpants he has on are hugging the curve of his ass in the best way. He looks so at ease and comfortable, none of the tense strain in his body that he sometimes comes home with.

Bradley looks over his shoulder towards you with a grin on his face, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His pretty brown eyes rake over you in a way that has you wondering about just how he is planning on thanking you for picking up the baguette you’d stopped for. He lets out a low whistle, “Damn, I love that skirt on you.”

“I’m glad you clarified,” you say, sending him a wink and setting your bakery haul down on the island counter, “I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me or the armload of freshly baked carbs.”

He leans his hip on the side of the counter, “A little yeast and flour have got nothing on you, kid.”

“Now you know you can’t go around saying things like that an expect me not to fall in love with you,” you tease, opening the freezer to put the sandwich bread away.

“I’m failing to see a problem with that- oh shit,” he curses, hastily turning back to the stove to adjust the range knob as something spits and sizzles on the top of the convection cooktop.

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. Under the woodsy smell of his body wash there’s still a faint lingering scent of jet fuel. It’s your favorite smell.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, settling his big hand over yours, still stirring the sauce with the other. And you can almost see the easy, contented smile on his face just from the gentle tone of his voice.

“Hi, Bradley,” you hum, happy to be home.

“How was your day?”

“I’m glad it’s the weekend,” you say with a sigh, “The beach day tomorrow with everyone is going to be much needed.” A sympathetic sound rumbles from his chest as his thumb runs over the back of your hand. You were looking forward to sitting under the shade of the stripped umbrella and feeling the sand between your toes as you sip on an icy cold beer. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad, I took Seresin out and now he owes me $200. So overall, it’s been a pretty good day,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “Cyclone let us out early, so I was productive. Did some errands, got the groceries. Well, most of them. I even took Duck to the dog park and let him run around for a bit. He made friends with a Great Dane, I took a few videos of them playing on my phone for you.”

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees.

Pressing up on your toes, you skim a kiss against the side of his neck and prop your chin on his shoulder to peer at what he’s cooking up.

“It smells really good in here,” you tell him, taking in the pot of sauce simmering away on the stove. Off to the side there’s a cutting board with some fresh basil chopped up and a pile of papery vegetable scraps and a couple empty cans of tomato sauce.

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, the surprise evident in your voice, “Homemade meatballs?”

“Ok, maybe those came from Trader Joe’s,” Bradley admits, “But the sauce is all me. I even put the red pepper flakes in it the way you like it.” He reaches over for a handful of basil and adds it into the pot.

You send your thanks up to Carole for making sure her son at least had known the basics of cooking. He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you.

“‘Semi-homemade with Bradley Bradshaw’ has a nice ring to it, want me to pitch it as a reboot to the Food Network?” You feel the way he chuckles under your palms, the muscles of his stomach contracting and releasing.

“I don’t think I’d make it out with my liver intact. That woman loved her cocktails strong, I’m pretty sure her sangria recipe would send me to the floor,” he jokes, “No wonder why our moms were always watching her.”

“A woman after my own heart,” you sing, “I’m so glad I inherited such good taste from them.”

Bradley shakes his head amused, “The good news for you is that there’s a bottle of red open and waiting for you, funny girl.”

The promise of wine perks you up immediately. Pasta, wine, cake, and Bradley. What more could a girl need?

“God, you’re the man of my dreams.”

“I sure hope so,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight, Lieutenant.” You take advantage of the way he leans his head back and laughs to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

You slide your arms back from around his waist, only managing to take one step towards the bottle of your favorite Cabernet Sauvignon that’s breathing over near the sink with one of your wine glasses set out next to it before you’re being stopped with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going, kid?” Bradley asks, tugging you back to him with a grin.

He doesn’t wait for your response before he is leaning in to properly kiss you for the first time since he left for work this morning.

At the press of his lips against yours, you feel every ounce of strain you’d been carrying from the day dissolve like melted sugar. A satisfied hum escapes you and you feel the way the corner of Bradley’s mouth ticks up at your reaction to him. His hands cup your face, tilting you head until it was at the perfect angle for him to deepen the kiss. You don’t even notice he’s back you up against the island until the countertop is digging into your lower back, too distracted by the way the coarse hairs of his mustache scrape along your upper lip.

If it weren’t for the sound of the timer going off the two of you might have almost would have forgotten about dinner entirely, it wouldn’t have been the first time it’s happened.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from the way you’d had it clutched in your fists just moments ago before letting go of him so that he can silence the beeping coming from the oven.

“You want to make us a salad to go with it?”

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction.

And really you should have expected the cheeky way his hand connects with your ass in a quick, sharp slap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, but he’s already facing the stove and stirring the sauce again as he adjusts the seasoning with a smirk.

You take a moment to pour yourself a glass of the wine Bradley had opened for you and take a sip. The bold, juicy flavor dancing across your tongue as you set about gathering the things to make a simple salad to go with the dinner he’s made for the two of you.

This is your favorite part of the day, when it’s just the two of you together.

The back and forth has always been easy with him. Whether it’s making dinner or running errands or doing laundry together. The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him.

When Bradley declares the sauce to be perfect, he comes and joins you at the island. Grabbing a cutting board of his own he starts slicing up the fresh baguette you’d picked up, offering you the end to snack on.

“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, picking up the box of assorted cake slices.

You continue chopping the cucumber in front of you, “Isn’t that fun? They had a stack of those at the checkout. I think they must have made too many cakes this week on accident, but it’s so smart of them so sell them that way. Why get one flavor when you can have six? Best of both worlds for everyone.”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

It hadn’t been a particularly noteworthy visit, other than you’d been able to score a parking spot in front of the building, “Uh, not that I can think of?”

“You sure?” Bradley prods.

“No?... Oh! I was going to pick up that marbled rye you like while I was there getting the baguette, but they were already sold out. So I got a loaf of the multigrain brown bread and some sourdough instead.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Stopping your salad prep, you look up at him skeptically, “Ok, why are you mmm-ing me, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s eyes are alight with playful mischief as he slides the box of the cake slices towards you and pointedly double taps on the sticker on the upper right corner of the pink box with his finger.

You hadn’t stopped to read the shiny gold label when you’d grabbed it at the bakery, the tempting layers of cake and frosting and fillings had immediately sold you on it, but you couldn’t unsee what the curly scripted font said now.

Wedding Cake Sampler

“So, when’s the wedding? I’m assuming I’ll be invited,” he grins.

You feel your face get hot as you realize your mistake. It wasn’t just a sample box, but a very specific type of sample box. A very specific type of sample box for a very specific occasion.

Suddenly the interaction with the bakery employee as you were paying makes so much more sense now.

“Oh my god, the girl at the checkout said ‘Congratulations’ and I said ‘Happy Fri-yay’ back to her,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands, “I thought she meant it like ‘Congrats on making it to Friday’ thing.”

He laughs, “Sweet girl, that’s about the damn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Happy Fri-yay, Bradley! She was congratulating me on our- I mean- the nonexistent impending nuptials she thought I had and I reply to her that? We need to find a new bakery, I can’t go there ever again,” you lament. It’s truly a tragedy, since they have the best sticky pecan rolls in the area.

“And you call me a drama queen,” Bradley lightly teases, “She probably thought it was funny.”

You groan again, louder this time. If he was going to call you a drama queen, you’d at least try out your best Mariah Carey impersonation.

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. “C’mon, it’s not even that bad. I’m sure I did at least three things more embarrassing than that today.”

“Yeah, I bet you did too,” you grumble into his chest without heat. The way he chuckles at your surliness lets you know he doesn’t take it personally. Not only is he getting laid, but you decide you’re definitely going to give him head too for being the sweetest man alive.

He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls the away from your face, “I gotta tell you, I’m glad it was just a little mix up. It would have sucked to find out my girlfriend had a fiancé I didn’t know about.”

You can see every shade of brown in his eyes as he looks into yours, the affection and amusement rippling there the same way the light catches the surface of a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. And fact of the matter is that you still probably would have picked it up anyways, you just might have peeled off the incriminating sticker off in the car before bringing it in.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Bradshaw. I’ve got my hands more than full enough with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” he boasts, the insinuation is not lost on you.

You snort a laugh and shove at his chest lightly. He drops a kiss to the side of your head and makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen island as you get back to your salad making duties.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette.

You playfully toss a cucumber at him for his teasing and he pops in mouth with a grin.

A little later, when you have your steaming bowls of pasta in front of you at the dinner table, he raises his glass of wine to you, “Happy Fri-yay, sweet girl.”

And your laugh is as crystalline as the clink of your glass meeting his in cheers.

After the leftovers are put away and the dishes cleaned, the two of you are cozied up watching the new romcom that was just added on Netflix.

You’re stretched out across the couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap eating the cake you’d picked up. You try a bit of each flavor deciding which one you like the most to save it for the end, while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior and you couldn’t help but tease him about it when you’d noticed his cake tasting methodology.

Bradley moans around a forkful of cake and you know he’s just found the carrot cake- his favorite.

He’s always been a bit of a pseudo health nut with questionable logic. “It’s got carrots and walnuts, it’s basically a superfood” he’s claimed on multiple occasions, while purposefully excluding the part about the pound of butter and cream cheese that goes into the frosting.

“I’d clear my schedule in heartbeat and take you to City Hall any day of the week as long as we get to have this carrot cake when we get married,” he says right before he licks the frosting off of his fork.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When, not if.

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged.

He says it like a fact.

He says it like he knows.

“I didn’t realize I missed the part where you asked me,” you say, setting your plate on the coffee table in front of you, too full of the hope of it all to keep eating.

“And here I was waiting on you, kid,” he says playfully, taking another bite.

He’s teasing, you know he is. Bradley isn’t the type of man who would lead you on or play games with your heart.

“Bradley.” It’s an almost whine the way his name comes out of your mouth as you nudge his thigh with your foot. You turn your head to bury your face in the cushion of the couch, suddenly feeling very bashful.

The two of you have never talked about it, at least not like this before. Only in casual passing comments like getting a place with a bigger backyard for Duck or about setting up a joint banking account. A hypothetical future.

“Hey, c’mon. Look at me,” he coaxes, squeezing your foot. When you peek at him, the look on his face is all open sincerity, “You’re my forever girl. I love you and I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’re ok with that.”

A rush butterflies happily swoop and swirl around in your stomach.

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always.

“That’d be ok with me,” you tell him freely. You watch as his smile gets wider and broader until it’s taking up his whole face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I think I could handle quite a few more decades with you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, his fingers skimming up and down the top of your calf.

“Oh, definitely. You’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“Good.”

He tugs your ankle, pulling you until your back is flat against the couch. You squeal in delight as he pins you down on the cushions, your arms and legs wrap around him on their own drawing him in even closer. Then he’s kissing every inch of your face that he can reach as you laugh in delight.

If it weren’t for Bradley’s sturdy bulk on top of you, you’re pretty sure you might have just floated away. You’ve never felt this incandescently light in your whole life.

He brushes one more quick kiss to the top of your nose before he pulls away, “But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.”

“I don’t know,” you muse, stroking his pink cheek, “Sounds like you’re desperate to wife me up, Bradley. Practically begging for me to take you to the courthouse.”

His hands go straight for curve of your waist, attacking that ticklish spot that’s always made you giggle and squirm. Only taking mercy on you once you’re out of breath. You’re almost positive that the smile on your face might be there permanently.

You don’t miss the intensity in Bradley’s eyes as they trace over your face as he settles himself more fully on you, “You don’t know the half of it, kid. But I’m letting you know now, I’m not going to make either one of us wait long for it.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

You feel the promise he’s making to you in his kiss. The caress of his hands along your body feels like a vow. You feel every ounce of just how much he loves and cherishes you. The cake was sweet, but his honeyed kiss tastes even sweeter.

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

Our wedding.

The thought of it made you giddy.

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son.

“Ok, we can have carrot cake at our wedding,” you agree, wholeheartedly, “It’s basically a superfood, after all.”

“Damn right it is,” he beams.

The cake is quickly forgotten in favor of pulling your shirt over your head.

You might not have a ring. Yet.

But you did have a lifetime with Bradley and a carrot cake to look forward to. And that was more than enough for you.

Bradley was pretty sure that there was nothing better on this Earth than having you draped across his chest as you slept soundly in his arms. Your breathing had softened and evened out ages ago, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of his bright future with you.

He’d meant it when he’d told you he wasn’t going to make you wait long. Bradley didn’t know how much longer he could go on calling you his girlfriend when all he really wanted to call you his wife. He’s imagined you in a white dress walking towards him more times than he could count.

When he’d planned the surprised trip back to your shared hometown as a gift for your six-month anniversary, he might have had some ulterior motives. While it was nice to see the place you’d both grown up in again as adults, there had been a more pressing issue on his mind the whole time.

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with you dad that sunny day at the golf course.

Bradley knew it was a bit of an antiquated tradition, but he’d never proposed to anyone before and he wanted to get it right. He wanted you and your parents to know just how serious he was about his intentions to love you for the rest of his life. He’d even asked Mav for his blessing too, just to make sure he had his bases covered.

It had thrown him through a loop when at the end of the trip you mom had slipped him the ring she’d worn while she was married to your dad. She’d told him there was no expectations or pressure to use it, she just wanted him to have it just in case.

The engagement ring his mom had worn had been tucked in the back corner of his nightstand for almost four months now. Bradley had pulled it out of storage sometime around the third month of officially dating you. It would be too soon for anyone else, but he’s already had decades with you. And he’d never been more sure about anything in his life as he was about knowing you were the one for him.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way.

He’d dwelled on it for weeks trying to figure out if he should give them both to you at once. Or if he should propose to you with one and save the other to you during another monumental moment, like when the two of you started a family. He figured could turn one into a necklace or something for you.

Bradley could feel the presence of both rings every time he walked into the bedroom. They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right.

His mom had known and loved you, he knew that she’d have been so excited to see her ring on your finger. And after his mom had passed, yours had helped him during those rough days in ways he didn’t think he could ever properly thank her for. Even though your parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, they were the reason that you were here and he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

It wasn’t until Natasha had shown him the Toi et Moi style ring that things locked into place in a way that made his heart race at the very idea of it.

The right ring for the right girl.

He lets his fingers trail up and down your back gently as you slept soundly against him.

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit.

The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined.

He did win $200 from Jake and had gone to the dog park with Duck, but he’d also stopped by the jewelers across town to give them both of the family heirlooms because he didn’t want to waste a single minute.

Two diamonds, one ring. The start of you and him. A story of your beginnings to be worn on the finger that would tie him to you with a golden thread for the rest of your lives together.

He’d even paid extra to have it engraved.

My sweet girl. My forever girl.

I genuinely thought I was one and done after I wrote my first fic in December of last year. And then came these two. 'Like I Can' was meant to be a oneshot that turned into a 3-part series that turned into half of my masterlist. I adore this couple with my whole heart. Thank you for reading along and celebrating with me!

Elle (@callsignspark) thank you for sending me the TikTok that inspired the headcanon about the wedding cake sampler, I'm showering you with shiny 'thank you' shaped confetti! And another big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for getting as giddy about these two as I do and for always enthusiastically reading the snippets I send you! You both are the best!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[chocostrwberry]

Sentimaggedon!!

Sentimonster designs I came up with bc I was thinking about Argos’s debut in my AU! Bc I’m dumb and I haven’t thought too deep about him as a character to the story yet-

They were originally suppose to all be based on the seven deadly sins, especially Gasumptious (gluttony) and Elvy (envy). But I also wanted to branch into maybe Felix’s other hidden emotions, like his deep love for Kagami and his fear of being replaced by Adrien (Bride and Athazagora).

Argos becomes an official enemy when Dragonbug tells him they need to be destroyed. He defends them, saying they’re just “infants” and can learn how to behave properly with time. But a frustrated and exhausted Dragonbug she tells him they aren’t like humans and are created for one purpose: to serve and destroy. This hits home with Argos, and he develops a fear and hatred for Ladybug and swears his loyalty to Madame Morphisa afterwards in order to take her down and prove just how monstrous he can be.

I’m still kinda trying to find a way to make this concept work in my au. He promised to serve her in exchange for the peacock miraculous, and she wants him to use it to take Ladybug’s miraculous. In a novice attempt, he might have just starting creating multiple sentimonsters that he thought were harmless enough (something she did NOT expect), but they quickly spiraled out of control. It’s much easier to make sentimonsters based on others emotions, because you can predict which one you will create it off of. But instead, he chose his own, which makes it more difficult to tell how the sentimonster will act. I think it would show the aspect that these creatures do have a mind of their own, compared to previous Mayura sentimonsters who were easily controlled by their akumas!!

Red Moon

Red Moon is obviously already canon, but her power is instead hypnosis. If you get caught in her light, you stop whatever you are doing to stare at her. The streets of Paris become like a statue exhibit: countless of unlucky citizens are bathing in her glow, staring at the beauty of the red moon.

Gasumptious

As he devours, Gasumptious grows bigger and bigger. He’ll eat anything, so beware! After finishing most of the city, Gasumptious sits atop the Eiffel Tower and gnaws on its metal posts.

Elvy

Elvy lives in the sewers. She can control water and uses it to drain you of happy memories, which she keeps in floating green orbs and guards for herself.

It’s so silly to me how the manifestation of Felix’s jealousy of Adrien is fought and defeated by Chat Noir, who is Adrien ehehehheeh.

She also sounds like a Pokémon!! Probably like a Lapras, or the one that trills really pretty

Athazagora

A timid creature, Athazagora took over the catacombs, and hides in the shadows. You can hear the creaking and rattling of its wooden limbs in the dark as it stalk you. If you can’t escape, it envelops you in its cloak of darkness, never to be seen again.

Bride

The supposed advisor of Argos. She never leaves his side, and is always whispering something in his ear. To protect Argos, she showcases her ability to turn her arm into a long spear/sword, incredible strength and mobility, and that her body is made of an indestructible crystal.

Plus, he can make multiple sentimonsters bc he’s a sentihuman himself (Other people can’t. You can only make one, kind of like how the Butterfly miraculous can only Akumatize one person at a time, unless they share an object. Current excuse I’m going with that makes semi-sense HEHEHE) . So Lila totally wants to use that to her own advantage!

Ofc he fails, but she’s impressed with his resolve (and the lengths he was willing to go, albeit unintentionally), especially after sharing her goal of destroying Ladybug. Lila was feeling the effects of unification and now has a willing minion to do her bidding whenever she pleases.

If I decide to go with this plot, Lila has to end up forgetting Felix because of the curse. But she doesn’t care: all she really needs is Argos. I might need to retcon her revenge against Felix because of this but idm! It wasn’t very important to the plot anyways!

I was considering having Dragonbug in this episode, since she could use Perfection to snipe Red Moon out of the sky! The lucky charm would be like a wand that creates a sticky translucent web to keep the sentimonsters secure so they can go find their amoks.

And a sentimonster I never ended up including, Ava. I just didn’t have a reason to put her in there but I liked the yin and yang style of her design!!

[megalony]

Family Matters

Okay, this is my first Jim Street imagine from SWAT, requested by a lovely anon. I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriterwriter @reneinii

Swat Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: When Jim's mum is out on parole and comes to live with him and (Y/n), she does whatever she can to hurt (Y/n) and come between them. And it puts (Y/n) and her unborn baby at risk.

Enjoy.

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

"Hm, morning."

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt an arm loop around her waist and a warm pair of lips attach to the side of her neck. She tilted her head to the left, trying not to move or shudder when the short hairs on Jim's head started to graze against her cheek and caused her nerves to ignite beneath the touch.

Her lips curved into a smile and she paused, her fingers tapping against the counter where she was in the middle of making them each a coffee.

"Morning, want breakfast before you go?" She twisted her head to the right and kissed the top of his head, smiling into his hair when she felt his teeth nipping against her skin.

It was hit and miss whether Jim would have breakfast or not, most of the time he grabbed a protein bar and waited until lunch with the squad at work.

"I'd rather have you." The way his words vibrated into her neck made (Y/n)'s heart flutter and she couldn't help the grin that spread across her lips.

"Oh really?"

(Y/n) forced her hands to work and started pouring the coffee, being mindful not to spill it when she could feel Jim's lips distracting her. And she could feel him smirking into her neck. He knew what effect he had on her and how to turn her to jelly.

She barely had the cups poured before she felt Jim's hands moving down to her stomach. He finally released his head from her neck but only so he could peck the side of her head and stand up straight behind her. (Y/n) tilted her head down, rolling her lips together as she watched his hands move to roll up her top.

"What're you doing?"

"Let me look at you."

She let go of the mugs, biting the inside of her cheek when Jim spun her round so her hips were backed up against the counter and she was facing him. Her hands moved to grip the counter, keeping herself steady as a fond look danced across her face when she looked up at her husband.

"You act like you haven't seen me in weeks." The tender edge to her voice was clear while she danced her fingertips along the back of his neck.

She could see where his eyes were drifting to. He had rolled her shirt up so it rested just beneath her bra, leaving her small bump on show. He was fascinated. Every day he was looking to try and see if he could notice the small changes and to see if he could see her bump growing and changing each day.

Jim's childhood had been far from great. Fighting parents, his dad who abused the both of them and his mum who always struck back until the day she decided to fend him off with a gun. And then foster homes for the next seven years until he could finally live on his own.

He wasn't used to having a family until he worked in Swat, and he wasn't prepared for the amount of love he would receive and feel for (Y/n) when they got together. Having a family was something Jim always wanted, but it was something he had been nervous about.

Jim didn't know how good of a dad he was going to be until that pregnancy test came back positive and he could feel the changes already. He had prime examples of what not to do and he used Deacon as a role model for how he was going to make this work. The love and excitement Jim felt already was enough to show him he was going to be okay at this.

"I wanna look at my girls." He responded with a shrug and a tick of his head that almost made him look boyish.

(Y/n) reached her hands up to cradle the back of his neck and she brought him down for a kiss, soaking up the sound he made when her nails scratched the short hairs at the back of his neck. She could feel his thumbs stroking across her hipbones which made her squirm and shudder in front of him, and when he bit her lip he elicited a gasp that had him smiling against her mouth.

Her hands moved down to his shoulders when he finally released her lips and trailed his way down her neck.

She heard hum murmur 'morning girlie' against her stomach and his hands kept moving back and forth over the sides of her hips. His lips tickled her stomach but the butterflies he elicited beneath his touch had (Y/n) swaying on her feet.

"She should start moving soon." (Y/n) continued to run her hands over Jim's shoulders and the smile that danced over his face made her heart leap in her chest.

She was sure he murmured 'can't wait' against her lips when he leaned up to steal another kiss.

(Y/n) knew anytime now she should start feeling the baby move and kick and she knew once that happened, Jim wouldn't be separated from her stomach. He wanted to be there for everything, he wanted to be at all the scans and feel every movement and he was already thrilled at the thought of when (Y/n) was going to give birth. He didn't want to miss a thing.

"Good morning."

"Morning mum." Jim nuzzled his temple against (Y/n)'s neck so he could just about see his mum as she walked past them in the kitchen. He grinned when he felt (Y/n) squeeze his shoulders and he sighed and tore himself away from her. He gave her hips a lasting squeeze before he grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it back down to cover her bump.

"Want some breakfast, Jimmy?"

"No, I'm good. Guess I need to get ready." He pecked (Y/n)'s temple and pressed up close until their abdomens were touching so he could grab the travel cup from behind her that she had filled for him.

He wasn't hungry in the mornings and he wasn't bothered about breakfast, he just had to get ready to go to work.

(Y/n) ran her hand up and down his shoulder, following him with her eyes as he moved near the fridge to kiss his mum's temple before she sat down at the kitchen table.

The look Karen shot (Y/n)'s way made her shiver but she forced herself to smile. She wouldn't let her mother in law get to her, at least not while Jim was home. When he was at work, Karen seemed to unleash her spiteful side. She would make snappy comments at (Y/n), move things, changes the dates on the calendar, she would do anything she could to upset or annoy (Y/n).

But when Jim was home, Karen was the picture of the calm, sweet mother who wanted nothing more than to get along with her son and his wife.

(Y/n) hated it. She hated how rude and spiteful Karen could be, and she hated that Karen was living with them, but what other choice did they have?

She needed to have a place sorted out or else she wouldn't have been released from prison and with Jim's reasoning, (Y/n) didn't feel like she could say no. Karen had guilt tripped Jim just like she always did, she made him feel guilty, she told him that he was the reason she was in prison in the first place. She had shot her husband to protect them both and that was the way Jim had always seem things.

He wanted nothing more than for his mum to be released and they had a spare room, which his mum was always pointing out. They had the space, she wanted to be close to her son and she didn't want to be alone after all those years locked up. There was no way Jim could refuse her without breaking her heart and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Oh Jimmy, are you taking me to my interview tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? No, you said it was Friday." Jim leaned around the fridge to catch a look at the calendar on the wall.

His mum had a job, but it a long bus ride to get to and from work so Jim had found a few places closer to home that were willing to hire someone with a record.

"No, it's tomorrow at one. Can you take me sweetie?" Her smile was sincere, but it was the way she glanced over at (Y/n) that had the younger woman pushing back into the counter.

The smile faded from (Y/n)'s lips and she looped her arms over her bump, taking a deep breath to remain calm. She knew what tomorrow was. (Y/n) had her scan tomorrow and Jim had an extended lunch break tomorrow specifically so he could go to the scan with her. Hondo was happy and proud of Jim for being so involved and excited about starting a family and he said they would try and arrange Jim's shifts around (Y/n)'s appointments.

"Mum, we have the scan tomorrow, can't you get the bus?"

Jim tossed the travel mug between his hands and sank his teeth down into his lower lip enough to draw blood. He didn't want to upset his mum or make her panic, but he wanted to be at the scan, he couldn't miss that. And it wasn't a long bus ride to get to the diner in town where her interview was being held.

"Jimmy, you know how nervous interviews make me… it's not the first scan, (Y/n) will be fine without you."

With a deep breath, (Y/n) bypassed Jim and moved to the fridge to get a yoghurt. She wasn't getting involved in this, but she would make sure her silence was clear and disagreeable.

That wasn't fair.

Karen knew (Y/n) hated hospitals. Whenever Jim used to visit his mum in prison, he was forever talking about (Y/n) and their life together, how she made him feel like a better person and helped push him to get into Swat and get on the right track. Jim talked about her a lot and when he told his mum they were having a baby, he had mentioned once or twice that (Y/n) didn't do well with hospitals.

He went to the scans because he was desperate to be involved with his baby but also because he wanted to support (Y/n). He knew she had had bad experiences in hospitals and they made her nervous so he wanted to be at all her appointments to try and make it easier for her.

Jim spared a look over at his wife. He could see how hard she was gripping the fridge so she didn't start to shake and the way her eyes danced around the room gave away her unease which made him sigh.

"I can't take you, but I can pick you up afterwards."

"Oh, okay." The disappointment in Karen's voice was clear and it made (Y/n) feel sick.

Her mother in law wasn't going to make things easy for her now. Whenever Jim was at work and Karen was on a day off, (Y/n)'s day got worse. (Y/n) worked from home which had always been a comfort, right until Karen moved in with them two weeks ago. The first week she had been on her best behaviour, mostly because Jim had been home quite a lot.

Now he was back to his usual work pattern, (Y/n) was left alone with Karen who was becoming spiteful and insufferable.

"I gotta go, I'll see you both tonight."

(Y/n)'s chest fluttered when Jim held her chin between his finger and thumb so he could tilt her head up in his direction. His lips quirked up to one side and he brushed his thumb along her chin before he captured her in a quick but searing kiss.

"Love you," He spoke into her mouth, pulling her lower lip between his teeth before he was turning away and heading down the hall to grab his things.

The moment the front door closed, (Y/n) pulled her arms into her sides like she wanted to wear a suit of armour for protection. Her eyes followed Karen as she got up, lips pursed, nose crinkled and shoulders squared like she was getting ready for a fight.

Part of (Y/n) had thought in the beginning that Karen would be happy about having a grandchild. She thought Karen would be pleased for Jim because he was happy and settled. It didn't dawn on (Y/n) that Karen would become jealous. She was no longer the only person in Jim's life. Karen had been replaced. She couldn't have Jim all to herself, he was no longer the little boy she had left when she got taken to prison.

She had missed out on almost two decades of his life and as much as (Y/n) could sympathise, she couldn't condone Karen trying to keep Jim to herself and control him like she was.

"I guess you got what you wanted then."

Her harsh words made (Y/n) flinch and sigh. She didn't know whether to reach out for her mother in law or stay huddled up near the counter.

"Karen, I-"

"No, I get it. You think because you're having a baby that you've got him wrapped around your finger. Well you don't."

Both (Y/n)'s arms pressed into her stomach and she swallowed a gasp when Karen roughly barged her shoulder into (Y/n)'s chest on her way past her.

Why did she have to be like that? Why did she have to be so crude and snarky and possessive over Jim? (Y/n) always thought when she got married that she would have a great relationship with her in-laws. And when Jim told her about his mum, (Y/n) wanted to get to know her. She wanted to know the woman who had gone to prison to protect him, but that wasn't the same woman who was walking away from her right now.

This woman was bitter and manipulative, and maybe that was because she had to toughen up when she went to prison. Maybe she really did kill her husband to protect Jim, but she was using that as an excuse to control Jim and his life and worm everything to her advantage. And she knew (Y/n) wouldn't stand for it, which made (Y/n) an obstacle in her path.

God, (Y/n) hoped the worst Karen would do would just be to spit insults at her. She could endure this for a few more weeks, it wouldn't be for long.

Jim had agreed that his mum could stay with them for a few months, but she had to go when they had the baby, preferably just before they had the baby. The house was going to be lively when they had their daughter and they would be busy.

(Y/n) couldn't be looking after her baby and dealing with Karen and her vindictive nature. And she and Jim wanted to be a family and have their home to themselves when they had the baby.

Just a little while longer, and then Karen would be living on her own.

***

"Karen?" (Y/n) rapped her knuckles on the door and gingerly leaned around to peek into the spare room. Her hands stayed clinging to the door and she bit down on her lip, trying to pluck up as much courage as she had within her to both have this conversation and stay calm.

"Yeah?" The older woman looked less than interested in a conversation with her daughter in law.

She rose a brow and nudged her glasses further up her nose while she twisted on the bed so she was looking in (Y/n)'s direction.

"Have you seen my notebook? The blue one, I use for work?"

The flicker that danced over Karen's eyes and had her lips twitching made (Y/n) press further into the door. She knew it. She felt so stupid for even asking when she knew deep down that her book wasn't anywhere to be found, because of her mother in law.

(Y/n) worked from home, she kept all of her notes in two separate notepads which were always either in her and Jim's bedroom or tucked under her arm. (Y/n) needed her blue notebook with the sparrows drawn on the cover, it was all her dates and details and facts that she had to type up and send across to her boss this week.

The last time she saw her notebook was yesterday when she had been writing in the living room. Now the book was gone, and (Y/n) knew exactly who had moved it. Jim had been at work all day yesterday and he had gone again this morning. There was no way he would of moved it when he came home and went straight for a shower before climbing into bed. He didn't go in the living room.

"No, I don't think so. Why, is it important?"

She knew it was. Karen knew it was important, if (Y/n) didn't have those notes she would have to start from scratch and it would delay her and cause her to be reprimanded by her boss.

"It- it's my work, I need that book." Her voice was unusually quiet and she could feel defeat clawing at her throat.

"Oh, well I haven't seen it."

Nodding, (Y/n) turned on her heels and walked down the hall. She wasn't standing here arguing. She was going to search the house from top to bottom and if that made her look like an idiot or stressed her out then so be it, because she needed that notepad.

The living room had already been searched. (Y/n) had moved every book and magazine, looked beneath the sofa and the cushions and the bookcase. She looked everywhere she could think of.

She made her way into the kitchen and scanned over the few papers on the table, again. She looked in the little wooden crate on the windowsil that was for important letters and bills. She looked in the messy drawer and the cupboards.

Sweat rolled down the back of her neck and adrenaline sparked in her stomach that was churning and rotating awfully. She felt like she was going to be sick. What was she going to do if she couldn't find her notes? She was going to have to work late into the night to redo everything. (Y/n) would have to rewrite her notes and then type up her essay and her notes and then she would have to edit and make sure everything was ready to send off.

Grabbing a few wrappers from the counter, (Y/n) scrunched them up in her hands and started to tidy up. She may as well tidy the house as she tore it apart looking for what she needed, something (Y/n) wasn't so sure she was going to find.

She flicked open the bin, about to toss a few bits in until something caught her eye.

A sparrow.

A flash of blue.

(Y/n) leaned down, dragging her fingers through the bin with a wince, trying not to touch last night's dinner or the cereal from this morning.

She choked on a sob that had her lips curdling like sour milk when her fingers curled around her notepad and she wrenched it out of the bin.

The book was lathered in sauce from last night. Splotches of milk painted the cover and the pages were crinkled, cracking and sticking together.

(Y/n) couldn't stop the tears falling down her face or the way her chest shuddered and jumped when she looked through the pages. All her work. All those hours, those notes, the tentative, neat handwriting. Stained. Destroyed. Ruined.

Karen had put her work in the bin. She had dumped it in the bin and threw the leftovers on top to try and hide it and keep (Y/n) from realising where all her hard work had gone.

Why did she have to do this?

"Hey baby, what're you doing?" Jim leaned against the doorway to the nursery, glancing his eyes around the room. The walls were still pale magnolia from when they bought the place and moved in last year. They hadn't decided what colour to paint the nursery yet, all they knew was that they didn't want this pale, bland colour when the baby was born.

(Y/n) was five and a half months along now so anytime soon, Jim would get ready to paint the nursery and he would start setting up the crib and units soon too.

His arms folded over his chest and his head leaned against the door while he looked down at his wife.

She was knelt on the floor, a few onesies and bibs and little trinkets surrounding her.

A fond look swarmed through Jim's eyes, right until his wife turned around. The smile faded from his lips and the warmth in his eyes turned ice cold the moment he noticed the tears streaking down (Y/n)'s face. Her eyes were overwhelmed with tears, the colours blurring together and meshing around her pupils that were as wide as saucers.

He noticed the puffy look beneath her eyes and the way her lower lip kept wobbling as she tried to draw in a proper breath.

"Hey, hey what's the matter?"

He moved before he could stop himself and he slumped down to his knees beside her, trying not to kneel on any of the clothes scattered around. What had happened while he had been at work? They had been to their scan last week and everything had been fine with the baby, so he hoped she wasn't upset or panicking about the baby.

He reached out for her hands and gently pulled them onto his lap, smoothing his thumbs over the back of her hands while he waited for her to explain so he could help.

"I'm not doing this anymore Jim." (Y/n) pulled her hands away from his touch so she could run her fingertips up and down her face. It didn't matter how many times she tried to swipe away the tears, more drenched her face and had her breath bubbling and catching in her throat.

"What, doing what? Baby what's happened?" He tried to reach out for her again but (Y/n) moved faster.

"Look."

Something twinged in (Y/n)'s chest like her heart had physically been slashed when she looked across the floor. She scrunched up the blanket in her hands and roughly tossed it at Jim, sending him leaning backwards when it hit him in the chest.

Jim's stomach pulled inwards and his lips parted when he looked down at the blanket.

It was the one (Y/n)'s grandma had knitted when she was little. The blanket was a worn shade of white with a deep blue ribbon stitched around the edging. (Y/n) had had this since she was little and she had started adding a few flowers and embroidery stitches to update it ready for when she had her baby to pass it onto.

It was ruined.

The bottom corner had either been cut or pulled and the wool was unspooling. Half the blanket had been pulled so the woven stitches were undone, leaving a tangled mess of wool attached to what was left of the blanket.

"What happened?" Jim swallowed harshly as he held up the blanket and looked it over.

It would take a skilled knitter to fix this and even if someone could fix the blanket, there would be telltale signs and stitches that showed it had been wrecked and patched back together.

This was important to (Y/n). She didn't have a lot to remember her grandma by and their baby would never know her. (Y/n) wanted to give their child something that would remind them of someone they would never know, and now it was damaged, possibly beyond repair. "I- I found it in the drawer like this."

"Maybe… maybe it got caught in the drawer-"

"It's been cut! She's cut it. Jim, you- you know what this meant to me." (Y/n) swallowed harshly, wiping her hand beneath her eyes as she took the blanket back from Jim.

She wanted to throw it across the room, unravel it completely and toss it in the bin, but she couldn't. Her touch was unnaturally gentle as she folded what was left of the blanket and ravelled the loose wool around the blanket to stop it from unravelling further.

"And where's the stuff I bought?" (Y/n) motioned around to the clothing she had set out on the floor around them and Jim took a moment to look at it all.

There was the onesies Jim had picked out. A few items Deacon had given them last week when he and Annie went through their old baby clothes they didn't need for their girls anymore. And a few things from the others at Swat who had either donated their kids old things or like Chris, had gotten a few things to surprise Jim with.

But nothing (Y/n) had bought was here.

The few teddies she had picked out. The jumpsuits and mini dresses and tights she couldn't resist from town. The bibs and socks and little things to stock up on, everything (Y/n) bought, wasn't here.

"I- I don't know, maybe I tidied them in the chest of drawers-"

"Jim, everything I got is gone. The stuff you bought, that's all here. The things Deacon donated to us, that's here. Can't you see what she's doing to me?"

Jim ran his hand up and down his face, trying to take a deep breath but he found he could barely breathe at all.

This wasn't right. This couldn't be happening. It was just a mistake.

There was no way his mum would be this spiteful and vindictive. She wouldn't toss away the things that were bought for her first- and only- grandchild. She wouldn't cut up something so important to (Y/n) and unravel it like this to hurt her. She wouldn't wreck and mess with everything to wind (Y/n) up, Karen wasn't like that.

She was his mum. She loved him, she did everything for him, she had spent years in prison because and for Jim and now she was out. She wouldn't do anything to jeopardise what she and Jim and (Y/n) had here.

"No, mum wouldn't do this."

"No, no Jimmy I'm not doing this anymore, okay? You go to work but I work from home, I'm the one dealing with your mum's tantrums and her fits of rage. She doesn't like me, she scares me Jimmy and now she's doing this to me. What if it gets worse?"

(Y/n) couldn't do this anymore.

She had spent a month living with Karen and it was too long, too frightening. She had gone too far. First she had been rude when Jim's back was turned, then she started being horrid whenever she passed (Y/n). She had thrown (Y/n)'s notebook in the bin.

Karen watched as (Y/n) screamed and cried and sat on the living room floor for hours rewriting her notes and trying to salvage what she could from her notepad. Now Karen had gone as far as to throw things away that were for their baby, and she had destroyed something that was so important to (Y/n).

This couldn't keep happening. (Y/n) couldn't carry on like this, she wasn't staying home when Karen was here. She wasn't going to keep living like this with a cruel mother in law who was out to upset her.

(Y/n) was pregnant, she couldn't be stressed and panicked and she couldn't stay with Karen when she her temper was flaring. What if Karen lashed out at her? What if she went from verbally aggressive to being physical? What would (Y/n) do then?

"I'll talk to her."

With a broken smile and a shake of her head, (Y/n) moved her hand to Jim's shoulder and got up from their position kneeling on the floor.

"Thanks." The sarcasm dripping from her tone made Jim shiver and his expression dropped completely. He watched her leave the room, doing her level best to control her breathing and calm herself down before she made herself sick.

Part of (Y/n) didn't expect Jim to go and talk to his mum straight away. She thought he would take a few minutes to calm down, maybe look around the nursery and try to prove (Y/n) wrong and find all the clothes she couldn't find. But she heard him storm out of the nursery and when she looked over her shoulder, he was aiming for the spare room where his mum was since she wasn't at work today.

(Y/n) couldn't help herself.

She took a few seconds to calm herself down and clear the tears from her face before she backtracked and shuffled along the hall. She stayed close to the wall and a few feet away from the door. She didn't want to watch, but she wanted to know what Karen would try to say to defend herself.

She wished she hadn't listened.

Jim seemed to start off strong. He walked in there with the intention of telling his mum that whatever went on while he was at work needed to stop. But Karen's words were like a knife cutting right through (Y/n)'s stomach. She moved both hands down to cradle her stomach as she coiled in on herself.

"Jimmy she's pregnant, all those hormone changes and she's always so temperamental these days. She doesn't want me here, this is her way to get rid of me but I don't wanna leave you, baby. I'm finally out, finally able to be with my little boy again."

"I know, mum. I just… I need you both to get along, you're both my family and this is upsetting (Y/n). Try and be nice to her-"

"She needs to accept that I'm staying. We're meant to be together after all the lost time, Jimmy. (Y/n)'s just emotional."

"I guess."

Moving her hand to her mouth, (Y/n) swallowed down whatever cry was desperate to claw at her throat. She wasn't doing this anymore.

If Jim couldn't have her back and stand up for her, then she wasn't going to stay here. She didn't feel safe in her own home and that wasn't fair. (Y/n) had a right to feel safe where she lived and right now she didn't. She didn't want Karen living with them in the first place, but she didn't really have a choice.

If he wasn't going to help her and Karen was going to target her, then (Y/n) wasn't staying here with them.

Karen could have what she wanted. She could have Jim to herself until he worked out what he wanted to do and who he wanted to prioritise.

They were both his family but Jim was picking Karen over (Y/n), he was believing her over his wife and (Y/n) couldn't stay and be victimised any longer.

Staying wasn't an option.

***

"She doesn't wanna talk to you."

"Chris please. Five minutes, please?"

The pleading look in Jim's eyes won Chris over, although she still looked disappointed and angry.

Her lips rolled together, her eyes narrowed and she placed her hand on her hip before slowly opening the front door to let him inside. She didn't want to let him in, but he was here, again, and he was begging her. He had called and called (Y/n) and Chris but neither of them answered and this was the fifth day and he thought he was going to go insane.

He hadn't seen his wife in five days, that was almost a week. The longest he had gone without her was three days when Swat had been low on staff and everyone had been on a big assignment. This was different.

This was (Y/n) staying with Chris because she didn't feel safe in her own home and Jim wanted to do whatever he could to change that. He wanted his wife home where she belonged, not here with her best friend to get away from him.

Jim squeezed Chris's shoulder and bypassed her to get into the living room where he could see his wife.

He bounded up to her before she got the chance to see who it was and before (Y/n) could try and get up, Jim was already plonked down on the sofa next to her. He reached out and clamped his hand down on her wrist, his touch comforting but desperate at the same time as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch of space between them.

His knees bumped into (Y/n)'s thigh and he was close enough that (Y/n) could feel each rapid breath fanning against her cheek.

She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to turn and see those puppy dog eyes that could win him whatever he wanted. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But when Jim tilted his head down and attached his lips to her shoulder, (Y/n) shivered.

She felt his hand let go of her wrist and slide round to cradle her lower back and when his other hand moved to squeeze her thigh, (Y/n) finally looked down at him. He was glued up against her side, his chest pressing into her arm, his fingers twitching against her skin like he feared she was a figment of his imagination and would fade away any moment.

"Baby…"

"Why're you here?" (Y/n) couldn't hide the pain from her voice and she couldn't stop her eyes from welling up with tears when Jim flinched against her. He squeezed her thigh tighter, shifting his hand up higher, testing the waters to see if she would throw away his touch or not.

"You shouldn't be here, you should be at home-"

"Not while she's there." (Y/n) didn't want to stay with Chris, she didn't want to impose on her friend, but Chris had more than welcomed her to stay.

She was the one who told (Y/n) she couldn't go home until Jim realised just what his mother was doing. The whole team knew how crazed Karen was becoming and they understood that (Y/n) was being targeted, she wasn't losing her mind or imagining anything or overreacting. Chris told (Y/n) to stay with her as long as she needed until things settled down and Karen was sorted out.

"Baby, come home. I've talked to mum, properly, I swear, it's sorted now."

(Y/n) wanted to believe him, she really did. She wanted to let herself sink into his touch and the way his lips were feathering across her neck, feeling her in without having to do much at all. But if Jim was just saying this to get her to come home, (Y/n) couldn't do that. She had to know that he was taking her seriously and he would listen if anything else happened.

"You didn't listen to me, Jim. She called me hormonal, and you agreed." Tears welled up in her eyes as she gripped his chin and tilted his head away from her neck so they were face to face. "I can't come home if you won't take me seriously."

"I'm looking at flats."

"What?"

His words sent shivers running up and down (Y/n)'s spine and she couldn't help but lean away from him. What on Earth did that mean? Was he truly believing his mum over her? Was this it? Had Karen well and truly got in the way of their marriage like she strived to do?

"Mum staying with us was- is, temporary. I'm trying to find her a place of her own, somewhere nearby. Then she's still close to home, but we have our own space again, just you, me and our girl."

His mum living with them had never been a permanent thing. Jim only agreed because his mum needed a place secured or else they wouldn't approve her for parole. She had to have that security and Jim couldn't let her rot inside a day longer. But he had always had the intention of helping his mum find her own place.

It wasn't healthy for her to be living with them and be so attached to Jim and he and (Y/n) needed their own space now they were extending their family. He was trying to get his mum a place of her own as soon as he could so they could all have a better, healthier relationship together.

When he shifted his hand up from (Y/n)'s thigh to trace her bump, (Y/n) couldn't help the tear that slid down her face.

He could feel her resolve melting away when he started to trace designs across her stomach with his fingertip.

Five days had started to feel like five weeks away from (Y/n) and all the team knew something had been up. Chris was the only one who knew the details, but all of them saw how tightly strung up Jim had been. He felt like he had been having withdrawel symptoms when he came home to an empty bed and he couldn't have his arms around (Y/n) or his hand on her stomach.

"Come home." Jim didn't take his hand away from her stomach, but the way his nose twitched and his lips drew to one side told (Y/n) he was one minute away from crying.

She saw a tear slither down his cheek when she nodded and that was all Jim needed to practically push her back into the sofa and steal a starved kiss from her.

She could feel his teeth grazing her lower lip and the way he smiled into the kiss as he took all the breath from her lungs, leaving her starving and lightheaded. He wanted both his girls to come home, he missed them more than any words could say and he wouldn't let this happen again.

He would listen next time.

***

A quiet, lulling hum filled the nursery as (Y/n) moved towards the window. She could faintly hear the music channel playing on the tv downstairs and it was loud enough for her to know what song was playing and to hum along to the music.

Her head ticked from side to side as she looked up at the window frame with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

They had decided on a pale shade of lilac for the nursery with a bleached white ceiling. The colour looked beautiful and when the sunlight hit the walls just right, (Y/n) could almost see sparkles twinkling off the walls. They had finished the second coat over the weekend while Jim was off and now (Y/n) was just adding a few more details.

They still had another three and a bit months left until their girl would be here, but Deacon had told them it was better to plan ahead and be prepared. According to him, the last few months would go by in a flash and they didn't want to be rushing about trying to sort everything at the last minute.

Grabbing the chair from the corner of the room, (Y/n) dragged it across and took her time climbing up.

Her fingers scrunched around the dusty white curtains that had a mixture of burnt orange, beige and bright pink flowers painted across them. She unclipped one end of the curtain pole and started feeding the curtain rings on.

Once these were up, the only things left to do in the nursery was to put up some shelves, assemble the crib and sort the changing table. Then they would be well and truly prepared.

"What have you said to Jimmy?"

A gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she wobbled, quickly regaining her balance before she toppled off the chair.

She fed the last ring onto the pole before she glanced behind her over her shoulder.

Karen didn't look happy.

The elder woman stormed into the nursery she had barely looked at since they started decorating it. If (Y/n) had thought before that Karen wasn't interested in her grandchild, she well and truly understood now. She could see the way it started to gnaw at Jim when they had been getting things ready and Karen could barely manage a smile. Whereas everyone down at Swat was more than delighted and listened intently if Jim ever talked about the baby.

"Excuse me?" (Y/n) took a deep breath to steady herself for the upcoming argument and she pressed her hand to the wall to climb down off the chair.

She had no idea what Karen was going on about and she was sure whatever it was, Karen was blowing it out of proportion. But she just had to do this now, when Jimmy was still at work. He would be coming home around about now, why couldn't she just wait until he got back so they didn't have to argue any more?

She had promised Jim she wouldn't argue or upset (Y/n) or fight with her. (Y/n) knew she wouldn't stick to it.

"He's looking at flats. He's trying to find a flat for me, he wants me to move out before the baby comes. What have you said to him? Why are you trying to get rid of me, he's my son I've sacrificed everything for Jimmy so I can be with him now. Why do you have to get in the way?"

"Karen calm down-"

"Calm down? When you're taking my son from me?!"

(Y/n) coiled her arms to her chest and took a strangled breath when Karen grabbed the nearest object and threw it her way. Thank God it happened to be one of the teddies Chris had given them, but seeing what she had thrown only riled Karen up even more.

She reached out for one of the coat hangers on top of the chest of drawers and launched it so hard and fast (Y/n) barely had time to move.

She bit back a scream when the plastic hanger collided with the edge of the windowsil and snapped on impact.

What the Hell was she doing?

"He's my husband, I'm not taking him from you. But you… you can't think that it's normal to live with us forever? We're having a baby, things are gonna change." (Y/n) held her hands out in front of her as if trying to act peaceful as going to make a difference when her mother in law was on the warpath.

"You little hustler. You're turning my son against me and I won't have it." Karen's voice heightened until she was at the point of screaming and (Y/n) winced at her pitch and tone.

She sidestepped and slumped into the wall when Karen tossed a paintbrush her way and when she threw the paint tray to the floor, (Y/n) cowered back.

She was aiming things at her. If Karen got hold of the screwdriver set or something heavy, she could aim it just right and cause (Y/n) some real damage.

"You and that bloody baby are destroying him."

Would Karen go as far as to hurt the baby? (Y/n)'s hand moved down to her stomach at the thought and she winced, feeling the baby give out a strong kick. She had no idea if Karen would try and come over to hit her or push or slap her or toss something directly at her, but she didn't want to find out.

She was scared. Karen had killed her husband. She had been so riled up and defensive over Jim, wanting to protect him that she had shot her husband in cold blood. Of course she had her reasons, she was a battered wife protecting her only son. But now, Karen was thinking of (Y/n) and the baby as a threat. A threat to Jim.

(Y/n) needed Jim to come home. She needed to go get her phone and call him to find out if he was on his way home or not. She couldn't stay here and argue with Karen who was only getting angrier by the second. Being here with her wasn't safe for (Y/n) or her unborn baby.

"You need to stop."

She kept one hand on her stomach and held the other out towards Karen, both to try and calm her down and to keep a good distance between them both.

Pushing forward, (Y/n) quickened her steps in haste and cowered down when Karen screamed. She bolted past her, giving Karen a nudge to get her out of the doorway so (Y/n) could fly past her.

Her phone was downstairs. She had to call someone. She had to get hold of Jim or Chris or even Hondo at this point, just someone that would help and not think she was overreacting or being silly. She had to keep as much distance between her and Karen as possible.

"Where are you going? You can't do this to me and Jimmy, he's my son! You hear me, he's mine."

(Y/n) couldn't help the scream that slipped past her lips when she felt a hand smashing against her shoulder. She wasn't sure whether Karen tried to punch her or grab at her, but either way it threw her off balance and had her falling into the wall that stopped her from going down on her knees.

She flung her arm out behind her, managing to scratch her nails along Karen's arm and push her back. She had to get away from her. She had to get downstairs and either get her phone or get out the house. Karen was trying to attack her.

"Get the Hell away from me!"

"Does your girl know you've invited us all round?" A wide grin spread across Luca's face as he leaned forward and grabbed Jim by the shoulders, giving him a little shake.

He pushed down on Jim, nudging the shorter man forward while Luca practically jumped up and down behind him like an excited child. It had been a while since the whole team gathered together to hang out after work, and this was the first time they would see Jim's new home.

Luca had spent almost five months living with Jim and (Y/n) two years ago in their old apartment. They had been gracious enough to put up with him for that long and let him stay and he had loved being around two of his closest friends.

"Nope, she wants to see you all though." Jim fished his keys out his pocket while Luca continued to shake him back and forth.

He could hear Chris laughing somewhere behind them and Hondo and Deacon were close by.

They had all agreed to come over for a few drinks, and Hondo and Deacon were more than willing to help Jim set up the crib he had been having trouble with over the weekend. They knew what they were doing, Hondo was good at fixing things and Deacon had four kids, he had done this before. Luca was the only one who wouldn't be so good with sorting out the furniture so he would stick to sorting the music. Chris knew what she was doing, but she was here to see (Y/n) more than to do any DIY.

"Course she does, she's missed us." Hondo grinned and shimmied his back pack higher on his shoulder as Jim finally reached the front door. They watched him make a big effort to wave his hands in front of the house, showing off with a cheesy grin before he unlocked the door.

Jim had never heard a scream quite like the one that hit his ears when he walked over the threshold.

It was so perfectly timed to when he walked inside that he thought for a moment that someone was playing some sort of prank on him. Like he had stepped on a trip wire and a fake scream sounded through a megaphone.

But he knew it was real.

He knew that scream was real, and he knew exactly who it belonged to.

The clouting thud that followed had Jim shivering and backing into Luca who in turn took a step back over the threshold. None of them knew what they had walked into. Had they interrupted a break in? Had some sort of accident happened? Had they done something by walking in at this exact time?

"No!"

"Oh Jesus- someone call 911!" Luca flapped an arm behind him, hitting any of his team that he could to make them listen while his other hand fisted Jim's shirt as if to make sure he hadn't vanished or fallen down with shock.

Jim bolted forward, feeling the team close behind him but he didn't care. He wrenched out of Luca's grip and took double strides until he was five paces up the stairs.

(Y/n) had fallen.

His left arm bashed into the bannister while his right knee bent out and punctured into the wall, wedging himself in place on the stairs so he could find his balance without falling down.

His hands were quick to find her neck, his thumbs smoothing over her jaw as he tried to be as gentle as he could to tilt her head away from the bannister. Her temple had been pressing down on the wooden beam until Jim turned her so she was facing him.

"Baby? Baby, oh come on, open your eyes for me." Words flurried past his lips before he could realise what he was saying.

His fingers pressed down into her neck and he winced, hoping he wasn't hurting her when he realised the grip he had but he couldn't let go. His whole body was shaking as he looked over his wife.

She was laid in the middle of the stairs, crumpled at an odd angle. Arms bent and stuck near her waist, legs curled awkwardly with one foot pressed against the opposite wall and the other hanging off a lower step. But she wasn't moving. She wasn't opening her eyes like Jim was telling her to. She wasn't even moving her head or acknowledging him.

"She's not waking up." Panic entwined in with Jim's words and he glanced over his shoulder, tears already streaming down his face as he begged any of his team to help him. To do something to make this better, to help his wife.

But when Jim glanced up, he wished he hadn't. He wished he never bothered lifting his head because the sight he was faced with made his stomach churn and had him gagging.

Karen.

His mum. Stood at the top of the stairs, one hand stretched out for the bannister to stabilise herself while her other hand was pressed against her mouth to cover her shock. She had tears streaming down her face and Jim realised she was shaking her head like she was trying to tell him she didn't do this. She hadn't wanted any of this to happen. But the guilt was written across her face.

The look in her watering eyes, the shock that was making her tremble back and forth like a lead. The way she was backing away from the stairs with little gasps and croaks.

She had pushed her.

When Jim heard Hondo's voice, it sounded faint and distant like his leader was calling from across the street instead of the bottom of the stairs.

Hondo's hand found Jim's shoulder and he quickly and expertly climbed over Jim and (Y/n), stepping over the entwined couple on the stairs with Luca hot on his heels. The pair of them bolted up the stairs towards Karen, both so they could stop her from trying to wander away and restrain her in case she tried to lash out at any of them.

"Do something." Jim's voice was oddly low but the desperation was clear. He spat the words with venom and he leaned into Deacon until the older man could see the fright blowing up his brown orbs.

Deacon rested his hand on Jim's shoulder and knelt beside him, leaning around to try and reach out for (Y/n). He pressed his hand to her neck to check her pulse before he gently peeled back her eyelid, but her eyes had rolled to the back of her head. Only allowing them to see the whites of her eyes with prominent veins crawling across them.

"Chris we need that ambulance." He glanced at the bottom of the stairs towards Chris. She had one hand tangled in her hair, a determined look on her face and tears in her eyes. Deacon couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Chris cry. "We can't leave her here like this, we need to get her down in the recovery position. Okay?"

He didn't want to wait for an ambulance with (Y/n) in this position, she was crumpled up like a piece of paper. It was going to hurt and if she had any internal injuries, lying like this was going to make them worse.

Deacon moved to try and hold her legs but Jim was moving off a different schedule.

He was already easing (Y/n)'s head onto his shoulder and curving her arms around her waist to keep them out the way so he could lift her up. Biting his lip, Deacon helped ease (Y/n)'s legs over Jim's arm and kept a hand on Jim's back to support him standing up on the stairs.

They walked backwards, slowly easing down the stairs until they were safely in the hallway and Deacon held the back of (Y/n)'s head and her waist to help lower her down.

"Airways are clear and open, breathing is good. Pulse is high… I can't tell if she's broken anything." Deacon tilted (Y/n)'s head down just in case she got a nosebleed or she started to throw up.

He tried to check her over but he couldn't see any obvious breaks or feel any dislocations. That didn't mean her ribs weren't broken or that she didn't have any internal injuries. They needed the paramedics here. Now.

"Two minutes," Chris gripped Jim's shoulder and gave him a little shake. She had dispatch on the line. They were already relocating an ambulance and a squad car down to them. This was an emergency and they would have help soon. Chris would ring Captain Cortez and tell her the situation, they would get hold of Karen's parole officer and sort this out for Jim so he could go with (Y/n).

"What have I done?"

"Street, you couldn't-"

"S-she told me. She told me she wasn't safe here, and I- I didn't- I never… God, what have I done?"

She told him she didn't feel safe with his mum. She told him everything his mum had done and he didn't believe her. He wanted to see the best in his mum, he wanted the family he hadn't had since he was eleven. He wanted a proper, loving, caring mum in his life, not one that sent him letters from behind a secured facility. He wanted his mum to get along with his wife and be involved in her granddaughter's life.

This wasn't how it was supposed to work. This wasn't the family Jim had tried to build. He hadn't kept his family safe. He hadn't listened to (Y/n) and now both his girls were in danger.

Why didn't he listen?

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny is not enjoying the homeless runaway lifestyle.

He would be the first to admit he was a bit of a cleanfreak, it was a side effect of growing up with mad scientist parents who would often place bottles of dangerous chemicals among bottles of fruit juice thier children had in the fridge. He grown into the habit of sorting through things as a means of survival.

Its not that he hated clutter, its that he hated mess and disorganization and feeling dirty. All of which he was feeling now.

So when Danny saw Brucie Wayne from the TV shop window of the dirty Gotham street he was on, he froze. This tall, dark haired blue eyed man was a jolly idiot. He was just like his dad. He had never seen anyone act like his dad before and he missed him so so much. And what do you know.. this guy collect black haired blue eyed kids like pokemon cards. And well...Danny was a child who had recently lost everything. His family, his friends, his home and desperately seeking out anything familiar.

So Danny starts following Bruce around trying to clean up after him and take care of him like he did with Jack Fenton in hopes of showing Bruce how useful he can be, but the amount of help Bruce needed was surprisingly low and what little he needed was swiftly taken care of by the butler and children he already had before Danny could even react.

Danny needed a new plan...

[louisferrignojr]

for @jackmichaela ♥ also on ao3

Buck stirs awake just as Eddie is wrapping up the phone call, speaking in a hushed tone for the duration of it. “Oh, he’s awake,” he says into his phone.

“Okay, good, I’m like two streets away but still stuck in traffic. Tell him I’ll be there in like 5 mins.”

“Will do. See you, Tommy.” Eddie says before hanging up and walking towards the chair he’d been occupying before he got up to answer the call. The room is small enough that he might have woken up Buck no matter how quiet he’d tried to be, but he thought it was best to stay with Buck. Eddie knows how disorienting it can be waking up in a hospital room after being knocked out cold. 

“Hey, Buck. How’re you feeling?”

Buck smacks his lips together and tries to clear his throat. Eddie moves to give him a cup of water before he takes his seat at the armchair next to his bed. 

“You were talking to my Tommy?” Buck asks, voice still a little hoarse, but doesn’t wait for an answer before he speaks again. “Can I tell you a secret? But you have to keep it a secret.”

Eddie tries to keep his expression neutral, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Cross my heart.” He says, making the sign over his chest. 

Buck’s head lolls to the side, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as a big, dopey grin grows on his face; the effects of the sedative drugs still clearly lingering. “I have a huge crush on Tommy.” Buck says. 

Eddie snorts a laugh, then tries to disguise it as a cough. 

He’s well fucking aware how Buck feels about Tommy. In fact, he’s sure there hasn’t been a single day since Maddie and Chimney’s wedding that Buck hasn’t mentioned Tommy’s name in conversation at least once. 

Buck frowns at him. “Don’t laugh. It’s not funny.” He looks so offended. 

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry.” Eddie decides to play along. “So, you like Tommy, huh?”

There’s that dopey smile again. “I like him so much. He’s so cool. And strong. And sexy.” Buck pauses for a second, staring at the ceiling seemingly lost in thought. “I like him so much.” Then he turns to look at Eddie again. “Do you know Tommy?”

“Yeah, I’ve actually met him. A couple of times.” 

“Oh. So, do you like him?”

Eddie presses his lips together. “Yeah, bud, I like him — just not in the same way as you do, obviously.”

“Good.” Buck closes his eyes as his smile softens. “You’re not allowed to like him that way.” He mumbles.

Eddie has to clamp his hand over his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing. He almost wants to tell Buck that he’s learned his lesson, but he thinks Buck is so lost in the haze of the painkillers he was given, he’s probably forgotten all about the time he went ballistic on the basketball court. He seems to have forgotten about the fact that he and Tommy have been dating for a while now. 

Buck falls asleep, his breathing slowly evening out, and Eddie shakes his head and returns his attention to the magazine he’d picked up from the waiting room. Moments later, Tommy appears at the door, poking his head in and exhaling with relief when he confirms he’s at the right place. 

“Hey,” Tommy says, addressing Eddie. “Thought you said he woke up.”

Eddie opens his mouth to reply but promptly shuts it when he notices Buck has woken up again. 

“Hey, you,” Tommy approaches the bed, putting a hand on Buck’s knee. “How’s the shoulder?”

Buck is frowning again. It almost looks like he’s glaring at Tommy. “My husband will be here soon.” 

Eddie snickers, and thankfully Buck is too preoccupied pointedly staring at Tommy’s hand where it’s resting on his knee to take notice of him. He’s never going to let Buck live this down. 

Tommy tilts his head. “Your husband, huh?”

“Yes, he’s on his way over, and I don’t think he will appreciate you touching my knee like that.” Buck somehow manages to sound bitchy even when speaking in that gruff voice. He must have a knack for it. 

Tommy holds his arms up in surrender. “My apologies, handsome, I didn’t realise you were married.”

“Oh,” Buck is smiling now, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “You’re very good looking, too.”

“Oh, thank you.” Tommy grins. “More than your husband?” 

Buck shakes his head and closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. “No way. He’s the most gorgeous man in LA. And he’s a firefighter pilot.” His words are slurring together as he starts dozing off again. “No offence, but you don’t stand a chance.”

Eddie looks up from his magazine to confirm that Buck has indeed fallen asleep again, and catches Tommy looking at him with the fondest smile on his face, a terribly soft look in his eyes. He quickly looks down at his magazine, feeling like he’s seen something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“I promised him I would keep it a secret, but I think you should know, the first time he woke up, he was  telling me about this guy Tommy he has a crush on.”

Tommy’s grin widens. He shakes his head and pulls up a chair to sit next to Buck, and Eddie takes that as his cue to leave; he’s not sure he’ll want to hear what Buck has to say next time he wakes up. He gets up and gathers his things, moving as quietly as he can manage. 

“Thanks for staying with him.”

“He’s your problem now.” Eddie shoots him a cheeky grin. “See you at basketball tomorrow?”

“Yeah, probably.” Tommy jerks his head towards Buck. “Depends if it’s safe to leave him alone.”

Eddie waves a hand. “Just hide the scissors, he’ll be fine.” 

Tommy laughs silently and Eddie pats him on the shoulder before he walks out, leaving him to stand guard by Buck’s bedside as he sleeps. As he’s making his way out of the hospital, he idly wonders how long it’ll be before Tommy calls him up to go ring shopping. 

[freakyformula]

Getaway

Summary: Reader is stressed out about school and Oscar helps her relax by inviting her to Silverstone.

Writers comment: Not proofread nor actually thought through I'm sorry in advance.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, fingering, oral (both receiving), safe sex.

Word count: 1,6k

You felt the autumn breeze against your skin as you walked home along the grey UK streets. All you wanted was to drift off to sleep and skip the rest of the day. But then, you realize that you have a school assignment that you have to finish, the deadline is today.

”Fuck…” you mutter to yourself.

Your attention is turned to your phone as it starts to vibrate. You light up when you see Oscar, your boyfriend's name on the screen.

”Hi Osc.”

”Uh oh, someone’s not happy…” He knows you like the back of his hand.

"Yeah well I've got so much homework and all I want is to relax." You complain.

The whole way home, you and Oscar talk, and as always, he cheers you up and when you open the door to your apartment your energy levels are restored again. Oscar had that effect on you.

OSCAR POV

Oscar sits at Silverstone and the McLaren hospitality as Lando walks up and sits down next to him, having listened in to the conversation Oscar and his girlfriend just had.

"Is she okay?" Lando asks with a tinge of concern as Oscar frown when you end the call.

"Yeah… She's just tired." Oscar smiles back at his teammate.

"Mate, make her happy and invite her here! No, demand she comes here, for her own good. I think she needs some time away." Lando exclaims.

"Yeah Lando, you're probably right. How do I convince her though?"

"Tell her you'll win if she comes." Lando quickly comments.

That night, you facetime each other as usual, and that is when his plan gets put into action.

"Hey, babe?" Oscar calls, "I've booked plane tickets for you for tomorrow, you're coming to watch me race. You better start packing your bags."

"You did what?!" She panics.

"You heard me."

"Ugh, Oscar, I don't have time! I've got so much stuff to do." She mutters under her breath but Oscar has no trouble hearing what she said.

"Y/N, you're literally finishing up on that assignment as we speak and there's no deadlines coming up in weeks. I'm sure you can make time for me, it's only a couple of days." Oscar comments.

"…I hate and love you so much, Oscar Piastri." She smiles at him with tears threatening to run down her cheeks.

And just like that school was out of her mind. She was focused on the race weekend and got busy packing outfits and showed them off to Oscar, giving him a tease of what was to come.

Saturday went well, and the two McLarens ending up at the front for tomorrow's race.

At the hotel, Oscar is sitting on the bed, nervously waiting for her to arrive. When his phone pings, letting him know that she's on her way to the hotel, he runs down to the lobby to welcome her.

"Welcome to Silverstone, my love!" Oscar hugs her tightly.

"Hi Osc, I'm so happy to see you."

"Shall we?" He says as he leads her into the elevator.

The vibe is instantly there, and he can't seem to tear his eyes and hands off her when they step out of the elevator, finding their way to the room.

Oscar walks behind her and holds her close, pressing his hardening member against her back. The height difference was notable like this, Oscar was considerably taller than her.

Her clear annoyance with the key card not working tells him that she wants this too.

When it finally opens, he pushes her inside, closes the door behind him and throws her bags to the side.

He walks closer, their lips almost touching. He creeps down to her jeans and unbuttons them.

"Eager, are we?" She asks him.

"You can't blame me, I've got the world's most beautiful girl in front of me."

She chuckles at his comment, and looks up at him amused.

Y/N POV

The feeling of him against you felt like heaven, and you grew more needy by the second. You needed him right now.

You slide your hands under his tee and study his strong torso with your fingertips. Slowly, you grow more courageous and move your hands further up, until Oscar takes the hint and gets rid of his shirt while he is busy kissing you. He starts at your cheek, working down your neck and crouching down to attack your chest.

His treatment makes you let out a small moan, making him giggle.

"You're so pathetic, my sweet girl. A little kissing and you're already moaning like a good little whore."

Hearing his degrading words makes you look away, embarrassed.

Oscar doesn't like that and grabs your hair to turn you back to look him in the eyes.

"You're my good girl, are you not?" He asks as he leads you into the bedroom.

"I'm your good girl." You confirm.

"Then kneel and suck."

You gulp and do as he says, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shorts while you look at him. He grabs your hair and fixes it into a makeshift ponytail as he pushes your face against his already rock-hard cock.

Desperate to be good to him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out for him.

"Oh my lord... Ready?" He checks in.

You nod and bend forward and take a taste of his tip. You slowly go deeper with each bob of your head, making Oscar moan. You can feel his thighs shaking from your treatment as you steady yourself on them with your hands.

He must have been too carried away because when he starts pumping into the back of your throat, you begin to gag and the tears start to stream down your cheeks. He quickly pulls you off, apologizing immensely, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Helping you up from your knees, he grabs you under the ass and carries you to the bed, throwing you onto the sheets. He quickly follows and lands next to you and starts by pulling your oversized hoodie off and then moving on with the jeans. Much to his surprise, you didn't wear a bra under the hoodie. The two peaks were looking at him invitingly and he gladly accepts, moving down to suck and massage them, moving from one to another.

You're a moaning mess at this point, bucking you hips up towards him. You deem Oscar too slow and grab the lining to your string panties, starting to pull them down when he grabs your hands.

"Let me do it, love." He states as he pulls them down, looking at the creation before him, in complete awe.

He leans down and kisses your red and tender lips, sucking them even more raw.

You let out a disappointed groan as he parts the kiss but quickly lighten up as he moves down to your aching pussy. He parts your drenched lips with his fingers and tastes you, letting out a desperate moan. He can't stop himself, and dives in, completely destroying you.

You're practically screaming at this point, and as you realise how loud you are, you try to silence yourself but quickly fail when he nibbles at your puffy clit, making you yelp.

He starts to tease your entrance with his middle finger, circling around it and collecting the wetness.

Slowly, he slides it in, making you moan loudly again.

"Jesus, my love, you're so wet and tight for me.", his words make you moan even louder.

Then, another finger.

When he starts pumping and ravaging your pussy with his mouth, you can't hold back and let out a desperate scream.

"Schhhh… It's okay, Y/N. Are you gonna cum for me?"

The only answer you can manage to get out of your lungs is a quick "nghyeah" which only spurs Oscar on.

He pumps even harder and his tongue is probably exhausted from the pleasuring.

When you feel your orgasm wash over you, you stop breathing. Your whole body freezes, making you see white. Grabbing anything you can, which happens to be a pillow and Oscar's hair, you scream out and catch up on your breath as you come down from your high.

"Do you think you can take me now?" He asks with a smirk on his stupidly adorable face.

You nod and he quickly grabs a condom and you help him put it on.

You pick your legs up and he hovers over you, admiring your dripping heat again before he takes you.

He lines up with your pulsing entrance and reads your face when his large member intrudes you. The stretch is painful at first but soon subsides and all you can feel is pure fucking pleasure. He starts out slow but picks up the pace quickly, destroying your pussy.

Usually when having sex with Oscar, it wasn't just you two fucking, but rather you two making love and doing something special to each other. Looking after one another, one could say.

Oscar didn't like the term "love makers" but that's what people probably would brand you as.

This time though, things felt different. Things were more intense, and the pace was quicker. Why, you didn't know, but you assumed it was because of you being apart for a couple of weeks.

"Are you gonna cum once more?" He breathes out.

"Yeaaaah…" You yell lazily, and with that, you cum again, and Oscar soon following, being a yelling and cursing mess. As you realise how pathetic you both sound, you burst out into laughter.

"What?!" Oscar asks.

"We sound like a pair of horny teenagers!" You laugh hysterically.

"Well… We kind of are."

"Very true." You comment.

"So anyway… Round two?"

[futurewdclandonorris]

Christening | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando bought a new car, but you think there's one thing still missing for it to be a complete experience

Warnings: smut, no time for plot we're jumping straight into it, semi public unprotected sex

A/N: Well I just couldn't resist when I saw Lando in a lambo, I had to write this little scribble and I bit off the nail gel from my papaya nails while writing this just so you know. Now I'm going to sit in a timeout after this, thank you

Lando picked you up in his new car in front of your flat where you’ve been waiting on the sidewalk. The sleek dark blue car pulled up to the curb, its engine purring softly. Lando leaned over and opened the passenger door for you, a charming smile on his lips.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he greeted, his voice low and smooth. “Hop in.”

You couldn't help, but feel a flush rise to your cheeks at his words. Lando had always had a way with words, and his confidence was infectious. You slid into the car and settled into the leather seat, taking in small, but still luxurious interior.

“You traded jolly for this?” you remarked, admiring the car. “What kind is it now?”

Lando grinned. "It's a Lamborghini Miura," he said. "Just got it yesterday."

You whistled. "Impressive," you said, running your hand over the dashboard. "But how does it drive?” you glanced at him, your voice dropping to a seductive octave.

Lando's eyes flickered with desire as he revved the engine, the car vibrating beneath you.

"Let me show you," he said, his voice husky.

Without another word, he shifted the car into gear and the powerful engine roared to life. The car lurched forward, and you couldn't help, but let out a gasp of excitement.

As Lando sped down the streets, you felt a thrill run through your body. The way he handled the car with such ease and control was intoxicating. You watched as his hands expertly navigated the steering wheel, his eyes focused intently on the road ahead. You bit your lip and pressed your thighs together, wishing he was navigating something else.

“How do you like it?” he broke the silence, pulling you out of you trance.

“It’s nice,” you huffed. “But there’s still something missing.”

“Like what?” he frowned.

“We need to christen it.”

“What? How do you christen a car?” laughing, he switched lanes.

“Drive to the cliffs and I’ll show you.” you muttered, unable to resist the temptation any longer.

Lando glanced over at you, a devilish glint in his eye. "You sure you can handle it?" he asked, his voice low and playful.

You gave him a sultry smile in response. "I can handle anything," you replied, your heart racing with desire.

Lando chuckled and pressed down on the accelerator, causing the car to surge forward. You gripped the edge of your seat tightly, feeling the wind rush through your hair as the car sped down the road.

As you approached the edge of the cliffs, Lando slowed down, the car cruising along the winding seaside road. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the landscape, making it look even more breathtaking. Lando pulled the car over to the side of the road, the car engine idling quietly. He turned to look at you, your eyes locking with his.

“Now what?”

“Lando,” you started. “I wanna ride.”

“You… you want to ride the car?” his eyebrows knitted together, a slight line of concern forming in the middle. “Babe, I’m not sure that’s how-”

“No, silly,” a helpless laugh escaped you. “I. Want. To. Ride.” you put your leg over him, moving in between every word until you were sitting flat on his lap. “Can I ride, Mr. Norris?” you whispered against his lips, your noses brushing together.

Lando's breath hitched in his throat as he felt you straddle him. His hands instinctively went to your hips, holding you tightly against him. You could feel his arousal growing beneath you, and it made you feel powerful, knowing that you had this effect on him.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he groaned, his lips finding yours in a fierce kiss.

His tongue plunged into your mouth, exploring every inch as you moaned against him. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below and the smell of the salty sea air added to the seductive atmosphere. Lando's hands roamed over your body, trailing down to your ass as he pulled you even closer. You ground your hips against his, feeling the heat between your legs growing with every passing second, his hardness pressing against your core. You couldn't wait any longer.

“Let’s make this car ours.” you whispered into his ear.

Lando could only nod, with lips parted and breathing shakily, as your hands snaked down to unbutton his jeans and free his straining erection.

The thrill of the moment turned you on even more. The look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you straddling his lap was absolutely hypnotic. It made you feel wild, like a woman possessed. You bit your lip, your hands trailing down to the base of his cock.

He sucked in a sharp breath as you wrapped your hand around him. You could feel the veins pulsing beneath your fingers, the skin hot and smooth. His eyes widened as you squeezed him, gently at first, and then with more pressure. He let out a low moan, his fingers digging into your skin as you started to stroke him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned as you slid your hand up and down, squeezing harder with every stroke.

Your hands were coated in the warmth of his arousal, his desire spilling over. You felt your own wetness pooling between your thighs, as lust washed over you. You teased the head of his cock with your thumb, feeling the tiny beads of pre-cum at the tip. He whimpered in response, urging you on with his eyes.

You gasped when suddenly Lando lifted you up, moved your panties to the side and rested his tip on your entrance, your juices trailing down on him.

“Oh, Lando, please…” you were the one urging now, gripping his shoulders for balance.

“I could, but,” he gave you a cheeky smile. “Are you licensed to ride me?”

"I think I proved you time and time again, but if you need a reminder..." you trailed off, moving your hips and sliding down on his length, gasping as you took him in, your wetness enveloping him. He was thick, thicker than you had ever felt before.

“Fuck,” Lando panted, throwing his head back against the headrest. “You’re so tight.”

“Lando,” you whispered, lowering your hips. “Just fuck me already.”

You could see the restraint in his eyes as he opened his eyes and gazed at you, his body shaking with desire. A groan escaped his lips as you thrust your hips, taking him in even further.

You moved your hips back and forth, your heartbeat quickening at the delicious feeling of him filling you up. Your body trembled, your muscles aching for more. You could feel yourself growing wetter with every second, his cock slipping in and out of you. You let out a moan of excitement as the car started to rock, his thrusts getting more urgent.

“God, y/n,” looking at you with wonder, he groaned. “The way you look right now... that's so fucking hot.”

“And what about now?” you asked, shifting slightly so that you could feel him hit a different spot inside of you.

“Yeah,” he moaned, his head falling back. “That too.”

You could feel yourself getting closer, your breathing becoming more ragged as the friction against your clit grew stronger. You could hear Lando's breathing growing louder and faster, echoing in your ears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him toward you for a kiss. The look in his eyes was almost too much to bear. You had never seen such raw, intense desire. You closed your eyes, feeling the pressure building up inside you.

Lando’s fingers dug into your skin, urging you closer. You could feel him getting harder, his cock throbbing inside you. It was almost more than he could handle. His hands gripped your hips as you rode him, thrusting his hips up to meet yours, his eyes pleading with you, begging you not to stop.

"I'm gonna… I'm gonna cum." he moaned.

"Cum for me, Lando," you whispered into his ear, your lips pressing against his skin. "Cum inside me."

Lando let out a loud grunt and thrust his hips up as deep as he could, feeling your muscles spasm around him. You threw your head back, your body trembling with desire as you felt his warmth flood into you.

He let out a lungful of air, his head resting against the headrest as you slowed your pace, his cock softening inside you.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, reaching up to caress your face. “Thank you.”

You took a few moments to catch your breath, leaning in to kiss him softly. The sunlight had vanished, and the orange sky had turned a dark shade of purple. The air outside had cooled, the wind picking up.

You looked down at him with a small smile, your heart twinging. “It was a perfect ride.”

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Slasher!141

AGELESS BLOGS AND MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Price: The captain is a well respected man yet when people go against his orders or disrespect him, there is this blinding rage that threatens to overtake him. His victims consist of rebellious idiots who think they're above the law. For example theives, drug dealers, tax evaders, people who don't pay their workers right, rapists ect. It irks him that they think the law wouldn't come for them. But in actuality it's because he hates the thought of someone thinking they're above him in any regard. Hell this man threatened a general and a colonel while being a captain. He. does. not. give. a. shit. This man just wants control and that's it. He thinks he's helping the masses and he might be but he's doing it for his own selfish reasons. And it was such a shame you had decided to break into his country home. Out of all of the houses you could have chosen you choose his. He's convinced fate had led you to him. (That's the story he's telling the boys) And who is he to deny fate (only when it suits him). He'll just have to teach you a lesson or two in discipline though. You can't be biting him like that. In his mind there was no point killing such a pretty face. He could reform you into the perfect partner. Don't worry pet, you're lucky he found you when he did. He'll fix you and then you'll live happily ever after with him. (Turns out you were a spy but you kept that to yourself) (He already knew though)

Gaz: Not many people know this but Gaz wasn't always this drop dead gorgeous. The poor boy was relentlessly bullied growing up for being a little chubby and maybe not the best looking person. It's not a surprise that he held on to that resentmen even now when people were practically throwing themselves at him. His victims consist of bullies, tormentors and trolls. People who like to bring other people down. Again this is done for selfish reasons as much as Gaz claims he's doing everyone else a favour. It's an outlet to quell his resentment. Gaz found his partner while paying an online shooting game. It was a high stake tournament where you could win some money. To Gaz it wasn't much since he already made good money at his job but maybe to you it was very important. You were relentlessly trying to get under his skin. You kept trolling him in an effort to distract him, not that it worked. The final straw was when you goaded him into trying to find you. "You can't do shit you ugly fuck, come find me if your all that. Oh! but you can't! Because you a fucking moron and a virgin that can't get laid!" Gaz chuckled at the childish insults. Seems like you needed an attitude adjustment. Finding you was easy, convincing you to go on a date was even easier. It seemed you didn't recognize him. All the better for Gaz then. A chase around an abandoned building should set you straight. It would be shame to kill someone so adorable. So he was just going to scare some manners into you.

Ghost: Simon has had a rough life. Growing up in the household he did wasn't easy. No surprise that it led to some psychological side effects. He has so much built up rage and anger sometimes he didn't know what to do with it. It manifests in uglier ways if he doesn't deal with it. His scars being a testament to that. His victims consist of violent alcoholics and violent drug addicts or any violent person in general. Other times it's just loud mouthy douchebags at pubs that harass young woman. He isn't doing this for some nobel reason. He just need to get the rage out before he hurts himself. And the scum of society are usually targets people wouldn't miss. Doing it this way made his life easier. Ghost met his partner in an alleyway as he was finishing up his kill for the night. You had drunkenly stumbled onto the wrong street when you had spoted him. You looked absolutely terrified and ready to run but Simon couldn't let that happen. He wasn't going to jeopardize everything he built because a bird caught him doing something unsavory. You made his job easier by fainting when he came near you. Hauling you in his truck was even easier. He wasn't expecting to find his life partner while out on one of his kills. But it seemed like god was looking out for him. It took a while to make you behave but he got you there in the end. And now you welcome him home with loving arms creating the family he should have had all along.

Soap: Growing up Soap was considered the class clown just because he was a little peculiar. Yes he was extroverted and loud but that didn't mean he was stupid. Though the stigma never really left him. Not in school, not in the military despite excelling physically and academically. He wasn't a demolition expert for nothing. He knew what he was doing but people stilled viewed him like something less than and it made his blood boil. Soaps victims consist of snobs and pretentious idiots, especially ones that pretend to know what they're doing. He goes after people who specifically try to use big words to make others feel dumb. Or people who ridicule and judge others for not knowing niche topics. A good place to find these kinds of people are in prestigious universities where mommy and daddy's money bought their entitled children a space to study. That's how Soap found his partner. It was at a university where people complained about your snobby attitude. It was a running joke that majority of people in uni knew. Turns out you were just introverted and too shy to talk normally so you'd just go on tangents about your niche topics to dispel the awkwardness. People took that as you trying to make them feel dumb. Don't worry though Dove. You'll never have to deal with people like that again. You can just live in the forest with him and he'll listen to all your little tangents while fucking you senseless. You don't need people in your life that don't appreciate your intelligence especially since you have him now.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Slasher!Soap Masterlist

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[pinksugarscrub]

Honey Kissed

Sanji Vinsmoke x fem! reader

Thank you @maplekzh for allowing me to bring your idea to life! 💕 Soft and fluffy for one of my favorite blondes.

word count: 1,140

~

It’s rare you and Sanji have a moment alone. Between catering to Luffy’s large appetite and mending the various tears in the sails after run-ins with the marines, it’s always stolen kisses below deck. Longing looks from across the room.

That’s why today you jumped at the opportunity to join Sanji on his way to the market after docking the Going Merry. Using the excuse of needing more fabric and your darling’s help to carry it all. Excluding the word ‘darling’ when you explained this to Luffy who looked dejected at the prospect of exploring this new town without you.

You felt guilty as you kissed him on the cheek and promised him a new coat befitting the future pirate king. Sanji was much more effective at calming your captain after pointing out lamb was a staple of the village. Likely to be on tonight’s menu if he could scrape together enough berry.

With an intentional touch to your lower back. Sanji splays his fingers against the soft cotton of your blouse. Thumb gently brushing up and down. It doesn’t take long for the Merry and the rest of your crew to fade out of view.

“Where to first my love?” Sanji hums. Pulling you close as the market grows crowded and the streets narrow.

His soft smile is reserved for you and only you. He doesn’t need to say it for it to be true.

“Well,” You tap on your chin as your eyes glaze over the array of shops. “I could use some more ink. Nami would like a new skirt and…”

You trail off as you spot a small shop. A cart beside the door. It has a certain…charm to it. The display was covered in a rich shade of red and smelling of roses.

“What-?”

Your eyes dart back to Sanji as you hurriedly turn him so his back is to the shop window.

“I have the greatest idea.” You smile as you nervously glance behind him. “Let’s split for the time being so we can head back to the ship early. Spend some time together before everyone heads back for lunch. What do you say?”

A laugh leaves his lips as he scans your face. Obviously you’ve seen something you like. Possibly something you want to surprise him with.

He takes your hand and kisses it. The scent of roses finally reaches his nose. “Are you sure darling? What if you need me?”

Your skin buzzes with electricity when his lips move to your knuckles. “Mm I can manage,” you stutter. A wobbly smile making its way onto your face.

“Alright then,” he whispers. Grinning as he moves your hand back down to your side. “Promise to come find me if you need anything.”

“Promise,” you nod.

Breath catching as he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Thank you darling.”

It takes a few minutes for you to collect yourself after he walks away. Your hand over your heart as it thrums like a drum.

Clearing your throat you take a step forward then another. A bell sounding and the stairs creaking as you open the door to the shop.

Gold lettering is embellished in an array of perfume bottles and glasses of powder. Rouge, baby pink, and more.

The berry in your pocket suddenly doesn’t feel like enough.

“Hello! May I help you traveler?”

You look up from a jar of deep blue powder to find an older woman. Dimples pronounced and bony fingers decorated in dark spots.

“Um, I’m afraid I don’t have enough berry. Your shop is wonderfully exquisite," you answer. Circling in awe over the chandelier above.

The woman laughs, floor boards creaking as she glides over to your taller figure. “Nonsense! Come, come.”

Her hand takes your own as she takes you deeper into her trove of treasures.

-

“Come again my dear!”

The bell rings as the door shuts behind you. Blush on your cheeks along with a tint of color on your lips. Giddy and satisfied you hop down the steps with a citrus perfume for Nami. Along with the blue powder to match her tattoo.

The rose scented perfume you initially wanted was switched out for vanilla after having a conversation about Sanji. The older woman had seen him just before he had kissed your hand.

There were a few other things in the bag you planned on sharing with Nami or in other words, waiting to claim after discussing which she liked best.

Now, it was time to quickly buy supplies. The next town was about two weeks away and you would go crazy without something to do if you didn't buy something now.

Your pocket grows lighter until there are only a few berry left. Paper bags on either arm that make your muscles ache.

When you arrive it’s clear you're the first one back so you get to work on restocking your spools of thread and paper. Setting the bag of your spoils next in Nami’s room just across the hall from your own.

You almost lose track of time until you hear the familiar Thunk! of footsteps on deck. You suddenly feel nervous as you fix your collar and the rouge on your lips.

The Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! only grew louder until your beloved came into view. His face was bright as he caught sight of you before it fell.

Sanji’s jaw dropped in awe as his heart skipped a beat. You had changed into something loose and comfortable. He wished he could wake up to the sight every morning and go to bed to you every night.

He approaches slowly, afraid if he gets too close you’ll disappear. “You’re a vision,” he breathes.

Your lip curls as you extend your hands out to him. He doesn’t waste a second after that as he settles in your arms.

Sanji groans,“and you smell absolutely amazing.” Burying his nose into your neck Sanji questions whether you know what you do to him. His mind, his body, and his soul.

It gives you great pride to see Sanji so relaxed. His affections are just a bonus.

“How was your venture for lamb?” You mumble. Carding your fingers through his hair and kissing his cheek.

The two of you fall into a comfortable atmosphere. Your eyelids feeling heavy as you continue to pepper kisses along his neck. His words falter at times but he continues speaking to try and hide how flustered he is beginning to feel.

He finally gives as his cheeks burn and your lips brush against his own. Stains litter his neck and ears. Anything within your reach really.

Sanji murmurs your name into your kiss. Sighing in relief when his hands move to squeeze your hips, sinking into the warm flesh.

When the rest of the crew find the two of you asleep in each other’s arms no one is surprised. Well, Luffy is confused as Nami drags him out of your room by the scruff of his neck.

[hells-wasabii]

I’m shamelessly asking for some Carmilla Carmine x fem!reader where reader gets nearly killed during extermination day, maybe severely hurt kind of thing cuz I’m a sucker for angst

A/N: And I am shamelessly answering this wholeheartedly Can I just say that I love Carmilla?? And one can never have enough angst. I went ahead and decided to make it a drabble

A/n's A/N: I came back after finishing this, i really didn't mean for it to get so long. It's not a drabble anymore, it's a short fic. the word count is nearly three times what i usually allot for my drabbles.

Character: Carmilla

Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader injured during extermination, Angst, Fluff)

All it takes is one second. Time meant everything during the annual extermination. If you drop your guard, let yourself get distracted, it could mean certain death. This was something that Carmilla had been extra diligent in teaching her daughters, and something that she had always reminded you, her love, her heart, of constantly.

You would always offer a soft smile of reassurance, pressing a kiss to the overlord's hand.

But things don't always go as planned, do they?

No one expected to get separated.

There had been an explosion that had taken out most of the city block. Some sinner trying to put up a fight before their inevitable demise, her daughters informed her after the fact. She had found Odette and Clara easily, both on the same side of the blast as she had been, but she had lost sight of you. You hadn't been caught in the blast, she knew that for sure. You were durable enough for something as measly as that to not be of much effect, anyhow.

But the fact that she didn't know where you had gone made her nervous. No one was truly safe during the exterminations, only hellborns and the king.

Her blood ran cold when your scream met her ears, her head snapping in the direction.

No.

Carmilla was in motion before her mind could catch up. The arms dealer instinctively ran through the streets littered with death and destruction, Clara and Odette calling after her. It wasn't like their mother to act so impulsively.

Turning the corner, there you were, lying in a slowly growing pool of blood. The arms dealer deflated upon seeing you in such a state. If only she had gotten here sooner. Luckily, the exorcist has gone. Likely to chase down some other damned soul like an animal, she thought bitterly. Skidding to a stop, she dropped to her knees at your side.

You were in a bad state, disheveled, bruised, bloodied. The worst of it appeared to be a rather large stab wound just above your hip, likely from some sort of spear.

But you were still breathing, nonetheless. You could still be saved. Hope bloomed in Carmilla's chest, as she pushed aside your blouse to better reveal the worst of your injuries.

"Girls," Carmilla called out once she was sure that it was safe for them to follow.

As she checked you for other injuries her daughters knelt by her side.

"Mother, here." Clara sounded as frantic as Carmilla felt. The overlord briefly turned to her daughter, surprised to find her taking off her coat to offer her. "To apply pressure," her daughter clarified. Her heart swelled at the action, accepting the coat and pressing it to your wound.

"Look!" Odette called out, and out of the corner of her eye, Carmilla saw her pointing to the sky. "The angels are retreating!"

"She's right!" Clara chimed in, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder, "We should get her back home, then we can tend to the wound properly."

Carmilla had never felt prouder of her daughters, they truly had grown into exceptional young women. She made a mental note to properly thank the both of them once things had settled.

But home was too far away, they would never make it there before you bled out. Lady luck was on your side as the four of you hadn't been too far from one of their safe houses, however, they needed to move quickly before you lost too much blood.

The next hour and a half were a blur. The moment they had unlocked the door to the safe house the Carmines got to work

Your wounds were cleaned and dressed. Carmilla herself had been the one to wash off the blood and dirt that caked your skin and you were laid up in bed. Odette and Clara had left once they were sure you would recover, choosing to give you and their mother space.

The arms dealer couldn't help feeling partially responsible. She thought if only she had been more diligent, and kept you close to her, maybe you wouldn't be left in such a state. The realization hit her, hard. She could have lost you.

"Carmilla?" your voice pulled the overlord from her thoughts. You were awake! In an instant she was by your side, taking your hand in hers.

"It's okay darling, Everything is alright now." You don't answer, at least not with your words. instead, with a grateful smile turning up the corners of your lips, you gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She couldn't help but return the smile, relieved. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Funny, for a moment there, I thought I'd somehow made it to heaven. Mistook you for an angel," you managed out a strained laugh, though you immediately regretted it when a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your smile returned, however, as Carmilla couldn't help but roll her eyes. But you had met your mark, the arms dealer finally let the tension leave her body.

"Mi amore."

"Yes, Carmilla?" You at first thought that the arms dealer was going to scold you for making light of the situation. You never would have expected the next words out of her mouth. She breathed out, gaze softening, her request was barely above a whisper.

"Marry me."

[landosjpg]

‘tis the damn season | ln

the one where you go back to your hometown just to end up in lando's bed.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.3k

warnings: ex-bf!lando, little bit of angst & fluff, implied smut

note: part 2 of this blurb series i have going on rn, it’s not proofread so there might be some spelling mistakes!

you looked at the screen of your phone absolutely perplexed, reading the simple conversation over and over again.

"heard you're back in town?"

"i'm sorry, who's this?

"lando."

you couldn't believe that was actually happening.

it had been years since you and lando had last seen each other, or even talked. growing up in the same town, you had been friends since early childhood, and you had grown together with your group of friends.

you also happened to date him for a year before you had decided to move to L.A for your studies, and with him also making his move up to f1, you had decided to call it quits.

and when you left, you never heard of him again.

you had been out of the country for a little over five years, and had never came back til that very christmas. flights from california to england were not only expensive, but also a lot of time; so you had never found yourself in the right state of mind to go back to your hometown, having your family and friends visit you instead some times.

from what your friends had told you, lando had lost contact with everyone in your old friend group, so how on earth did he even findd out?

"my parents told me, they saw your mum at the store yesterday."

the answer to your question came as he double texted at the lack of a reply from your side. you sighed, not sure where he was going with all that.

"just came back a few days ago."

"are you free tonight? haven't seen you in forever."

straight to the point, classic lando.

"can't, i'm staying with my parents. they probably want to have dinner together."

you knew it wasn't a great excuse, but you hoped he would accept it and move on with his life.

part of you wanted to accept his invitation, it had been so long since you had last seen him. as you looked at your screen, you reminisced your relationship with him.

you had dated other people during those years, but even on the other side of the world, you sometimes thought no one would ever make you feel the way he used to do, no one would even know you the way he did.

the rational part of you knew it wasn't a great idea. in the end, you were leaving again in just a few weeks. and you didn't want to go back to your new life with the "what would've been..?" question lingering on your mind.

୨୧

you knew lando could be persuasive. but you thought he wouldn't have much of an effect in you after so many years.

silly you.

he had convinced you to come over to his place in the matter of a few minutes, claiming that his parents were out of town for the weekend and he would appreciate some company.

you parked your car between your old school and the town's church, the place where you and lando would usually meet when you were younger.

sighing, you left your car and started walking the cold streets that led to his house.

the same path you used to follow every other day a few years ago, but this time you weren't sure what was waiting for you there. and it was too late to retreat when you knocked on the door and a smiling lando welcomed you inside from the other side of the door.

he looked different.

more mature, and definitely a lot more handsome than you remembered.

he had ordered something for you two to eat, and with a movie on the background, you talked for hours, time flying by without you even noticing.

you were sat on his couch, one bottle of wine gone during your joyful chatter; and with the alcohol getting to your head, you couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his body, sighing contently.

you looked up at him, a smile creeping up to your lips when you saw him staring back at you.

"what's with this?" you giggled, scratching his chin, amused at his attempt of growing a beard.

"hey," he pretended to be offended, poking on your side with his index, which made you squirm. "it's not that bad."

"i didn't say it was," you answered, "you look hot."

the words slipped out of your mouth before you could ever think about it, and a pink flush quickly painted your cheeks as you mentally slapped yourself.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean to..." you tried to make the situation less awkward, but his hand cupped your cheek and forced you to look back at him again.

he was leaning into you, and your breath caught in your throat at the proximity between your faces. a deep, shaky breath left your lips as you looked into his piercing eyes.

"is this okay?" he asked, his voice low and husky. and fuck, was it inviting.

you nodded your head, not able to form a proper sentence, or even a word. and he broke the distance between your lips, crashing his mouth against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

you sighed against his mouth before you let you hands and lips do all the talking and soon he was guiding you into his room with his arms around your waist.

୨୧

a few hours later you found yourself walking back into his room, your hair messy as you put your clothes back on. he smiled at you from under the covers, having gotten in bed already.

you chuckled at the sight of him, tucked under the blankets with messy curls and sleepy eyes. and it reminded you of all the previous times you had spent with him in that very same bed, your heart growing fond of the sight before you.

"you're not staying?" his question caught you by surprise, making you stop gathering your things to turn to look at him.

"what?"

"you're not staying?" he repeated, as if you hadn't heard him the first time. but you were still as surprised.

"no," you simply mumbled, sitting on the edge of his bed to put your boots back on.

"come on, y/n," you felt his weigth shifting closer to you, his arm wrapping around your waist and his lips pressing a tender kiss on your hip, over your jeans.

it wasn't a good idea, spending the night with him. you knew that much.

"it's late and it's cold outside, you can leave in the morning," he added, not letting you reject his offer again.

and the softness of his voice with the puppy eyes he was giving you, could've made you do anything he asked for.

he smiled when you didn't reply, knowing that you weren't going to turn him down again. you rolled your eyes with a smile and changed into the shirt he was offering for you to be more comfortable.

his shirt.

and you knew you shouldn't have come to his house in the first place. you knew you shouldn't have slept with him and surely, you should've left instead of crawling back into his arms, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as you lied with your head on his chest.

because you knew you would leave again in only a few weeks; and having a taste of what could've been if you didn't run away years earlier would only lead to breaking your very own heart.

but you sighed and snuggled closer to him, nuzzling your face on his chest and allowing yourself to be his, just for the weekend.

[chestersturniolo]

𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐

ties to the past , part 2

Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader

Warnings; angsty, swearing, pet names, use of y/n. if you’ve read part one i suggest a re-read for full effect of part two hehe, enjoy !

••••••••••••••••

You shake your head, wiping away a tear. "I just need to know the truth, Chris. Where do we stand? Is this… are we real, or am I just filling in the gaps of what you lost with her?"

He looks at you, desperation in his eyes, searching for the right words, something that could possibly make this better. But all he can do is sit there, feeling helpless as the reality of the situation weighs down on both of you, the silence between you more telling than any words he could offer.

"I…-" he started, but his voice faltered. He looked up, meeting your tear-filled eyes.

"-I don’t have an excuse," he finally said, his voice soft and raw. 

"I’ve been a fool, and I didn’t even realize how much I was hurting you. I never wanted to make you feel like you were second to anyone. You’re not. You’re the most important person in my life."

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words soothe the ache in your chest, but the doubt lingered. 

"Then why, Chris?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Why does she still have this power over you? Why can’t you let her go?"

Chris ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his face.

 "I don’t know-" he admitted, his voice cracking. "Maybe because she was my first love, and I never really got closure. But that doesn’t mean I want her back. I’ve moved on, I swear I have, but…"

"But you haven’t really moved on," you interrupted.

Chris looked at you, his eyes pleading.

"No,no,you’re…you’re everything I want, everything I need. I know I’ve been an idiot, I know I’ve messed up, but I love you. I love you, not her”

You took a deep breath, as you took in Chris’ words. But they felt empty now. You wanted to believe him—desperately—but you couldn’t. 

"Chris-“ you began, your voice firmer now, though the tears still glistened in your eyes. 

"I love you too, but this... this isn't something we can just brush aside. You need to figure out what you really want, I can't keep living in this limbo”

His face fell, panic flashing in his eyes as he reached for you. "Please, don’t say that. We can work this out together. I’ll do anything—"

But you gently pulled away, shaking your head. "No, Chris. I think we need some time apart. You need to sort through this on your own, and I…i need some space right now"

The room seemed to grow colder as the reality of your words settled in. Chris’s hand dropped to his side, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear. He didn’t want to let you leave, but he knew that trying to deny you, would only make things worse, pushing you further out of the door. So, with defeated sigh, Chris slowly nodded.

The silence of the room was heavy, as you grabbed your things and headed for the door. You paused, looking back at him one last time, trying to etch the image of him into your mind, just in case this was the last time you saw him like this. Then you left, closing the door softly behind you, the finality of it hitting you like a punch to the gut.

---

A few days had passed. You had been throwing yourself into work, into distractions, anything to keep your mind off the gaping hole Chris had left behind. But no matter how hard you tried, he was always there, in the back of your mind, a constant presence you couldn’t shake.

It was on one of those restless afternoons that you found yourself wandering through the city, the bustle of life around you a contrast to the dull ache in your chest. The sky was overcast, a perfect reflection for your mood as you absentmindedly roamed the streets, unsure of where you were going until you stopped in front of a familiar coffee shop. 

You paused, something drawing your gaze to the large windows that lined the front of the shop. And that’s when you saw him—Chris—sitting at a table near the window. For a moment, relief and longing surged through you, but then your heart plummeted when you realized he wasn’t alone.

There she was, his ex, sitting across from him.

It felt like the world stopped, everything around you fading into a blur as you stared at the scene in front of you. His words from that night echoed in your head, louder and louder until they were all you could hear. 

“You’re the most important person in my life… I love you, not her”

Liar.

The words tore through you as you stare at the two of them from afar, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face, hot and relentless. You turned away quickly, heart pounding as you forced yourself to walk, then run, until the coffee shop was far,far behind you.

By the time you reached your apartment, you were shaking, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. The tears wouldn’t stop. Feeling broken, you sank onto your couch, burying your face in your hands as the weight of it all finally came crashing down.

~~~

~The following day~

The morning had barely begun when you heard a knock at the door. It was the last thing you wanted to deal with, especially after the night you’d had. 

Every part of you ached with exhaustion—physical, emotional, everything. But when the knocking persisted, you forced yourself to get up, dragging your feet across the floor as you made your way to the door.

When you opened it, there stood Chris. His eyes immediately fixing onto you. Your emotions were numb. With no more tears left to cry for him, you stared back at him, your expression remained blank and cold. 

"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice hesitant, almost fragile. 

You stay silent, raising your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

"I miss you like hell ma,I want to work through this, through everything. I’m ready if and when you’ll have me…she's not a factor anymore”

You shook your head slowly, a small laugh of disbelief escaping you. 

"Fucking liar" you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

Chris’s face fell, confusion and hurt flashing across his features. 

"What?"

Your voice hardened as you repeated yourself, louder this time. 

"I said, fucking liar. I saw you yesterday, Chris”The memory of seeing him with her burned fresh in your mind, making your voice shake with barely suppressed anger.

His jaw dropped slightly, and he stammered

"I-it wasn’t what it looked like, I swear”

You’d heard enough. You moved to slam the door in his face, but he quickly wedged his foot in the gap, stopping it from closing. 

"Wait, please!" he begged, desperation thick in his voice. "Just hear me out… please y/n!" he pleaded.

With a tired sigh, you relented, letting go of the door and letting it swing open again. Chris’ eyes were filled with tears now.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before he spoke. 

"I only met up with her to end things for good. She wouldn’t leave me alone—she kept calling, texting. I thought if I saw her in person,she’d finally get the message”

You felt a flicker of doubt as you listen 

"And you expect me to believe that?" 

He swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "Yes. Because it’s the truth. I know I messed up, but I’m telling you—it’s done. i have my closure now. And yes,she was my first love. But you…you’re the love of my life-“ 

Chris let’s put a shaky breath.

“-you’re my future y/n. I need you to believe that."

For a long moment, you said nothing, just staring at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit. He looked back at you, his eyes desperate. The numbness you felt,now faltering after hearing chris’ words, as a wave of emotion crashes over you, tears pricking in your eyes.

“How can I trust you?” you whisper 

Chris took a step closer

 “Let me prove it to you. Give me the chance to show you that I’m committed to us. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust”

A flicker of hope ignited in your chest, mingling with the remnants of your hurt. It was a risk, opening your heart again, but maybe it was a risk worth taking.

“One chance, Chris”

His face lit up with relief as he reaches his hands to cup your cheeks

“That’s all i need baby-“ he starts as he brings his forehead to rest against yours, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

“-thankyou thankyou thankyou” chris repeats to himself in a whisper.

~~~

Days turned into weeks, and Chris worked hard to rebuild your trust. He was there for you, listening, being open about everything, proving through his actions that he was serious about making things right. You began to feel the walls you’d built around your heart start to crumble again as time went on. The ties to the past untethering. 

••••••••••••••••••

A/N; FINALLLYYYYY!!! i’m sorry it took so longgg i just wanted to make sure i had enough time to put the effort into it, i hope you guys enjoyed!!! 🤍

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

Part 1 - ties to the past

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