#thank you team for putting the us on your backs

[wcnderlnds]

body language | kang dae-ho

・❥・ summary: the ex marine caught your attention from the moment you met him ・❥・word count: 1k ・❥・warnings: 18+. smut. p in v. unprotected sex. female reader. swearing. ・❥・ authors note: precious little dae-ho needs some love so here we are. this isn't my best work but we all know im still newish to smut 😭

Dae-ho had been the first person you had met when you entered the games. He had an energy about him that was infectious, he seemed like someone you could depend on so from the second he had opened his cute little mouth, you had decided to stay with him. A strong, loyal man was exactly what you needed to survive these games. It helped that he was incredibly charming and nice to look at. So, it was really no surprise that you found yourself pressed up against the cool of the wall behind the bunks with his lips pressed against yours moving with a ferocity of two people whose lives were on the line.

After the second game emotions had been high. The team had barely survived with only seconds to spare. Hearts had been pounding and in the heat of the moment, you had thrown your arms around Dae-ho in the biggest hug imaginable. His big, strong arms had instantly wrapped around yours whispering into your ear how glad he was that the both of you had made it, how thankful he was that he had met you. The sexual tension between the two of you after that moment could be cut with a knife. The longing glances through dinner, the brushing of hands during the vote – it had all led to his body pressing against yours in the dead of night.

At first, you’d approached him wanting to talk but finally, with no other eyes on you, the tension had hit breaking point. His body had you against the wall before you could even blink, his hands on either side of your head as his lips devoured yours. Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him impossibly close. It was like you needed him to breath. The only thing you cared about was this former Marine having his hands all over you.

“What if someone catches us?” He whispered against your lips. Ever the cautious one.

“They won’t. Everyone’s too busy worrying about the next game and I’m sure we’re not the only ones having a little moment to ourselves,” your voice was a seductive whisper as your hand slid down between his legs. The outline of his cock prominent against the restraints of his sweatpants. You palmed him through his clothes, gently rubbing against his hardening length. He bit his lower lip, holding back the groan threatening to escape. His hand moved to grab yours, guiding you into his sweatpants. He wanted more. He needed more. 

Sliding his hand into his underwear, you grasped his cock giving it a soft squeeze. The small whimper coming from Dae-ho was like music to your ears as you slowly began stroking up and down his thick length. You hadn’t even laid eyes on it yet but you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. He was thick, the thought alone of him stretching you out was enough to make your thighs clench. Your hand continued to move along him, picking up speed. Dae-ho was biting his lip so much you were sure he was about to draw blood. 

Suddenly, his fingers wrapped around your wrist putting your movements to a halt. His breath came heavy as you spoke. “If you don’t stop, I’ll finish before we even get to the good part.”

There wasn't even a chance to reply as he spun you around, your hands pressed against the wall, his cock brushing against your ass. His calloused fingers dove into the front of your sweatpants feeling how wet you already were. Just to be sure you were ready, he dove into your panties, his fingers easily sliding through your folds; your slickness coating his digits.  In a flash he pulled your sweatpants and panties down in one fell swoop, freeing his own cock. He grinded against you, the feeling of his hardness sliding against you making you gasp.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, cock in his hand as he positioned himself.

“Yes, please just fuck me, Dae-ho,” you whimpered, pushing back against him feeling the head of his cock press into you. With his hands on your hips, he slowly pushed himself inside you until his pelvis was fully pressed against your ass – his cock deep inside your pussy.

His thrusts were slow, the drag of his length making you moan quietly. Who cares if there were people around? Who cares if someone caught you? In that moment, all you cared about was getting fucked enough to forget about the horrors going on around you. His fingers gripped your hips softly, his hips pulling almost all the way out then slamming back into you. Your head fell as he continued, your body jerking forward with every thrust. 

He leaned over, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You like that? Like the way that feels, huh?”

“Yes, oh fuck, yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Your pleading moans only spurred him on, giving him the courage and consent he needed to kick things up a notch. His calloused fingers slid up under your shirt, squeezing your breasts as he picked up his pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin could be heard but, luckily, the players' snores covered it up. The grunts coming from him signalled his impending release. That all too familiar feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. “I’m gonna…. fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He slammed into you one, two, three more times before his release flooded your insides, filling you up. The feeling of him grinding against you, pushing his seed into you trigged your own release. Your walls clamped down around him as you moaned his name, biting into your own forearm to muffle the sound. Your body shook, breath coming out in short bursts. Dae-ho pulled out of you, making sure to clean you up with some tissue he’d taken from the bathrooms earlier. He threw it under the bed, helping you pull your own clothes back on.

Spinning you around, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb lightly stroking over your cheek. “Are you okay? I didn’t go too hard, did I?”

“No,” you shook your head with a smile. “You were perfect. I like you, Dae-Ho so… stay alive, please. I want to be able to do this again properly.”

He pressed a light kiss to your nose, a silly little smirk on his face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

[pacofprunes]

cotton candy grapes

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — very short drabble, reader has pink hair, noncon kissing, biting that draws blood, choking, subtle threatening, drug use

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

somehow, he hadn’t noticed you in the first game. you’d think the only other person there with dyed hair, that was pink, would immediately get his attention. but he didn’t notice until after the games when it was time to vote, you smacking that red X. he only saw your hair though, he wanted to see your face. he knew you had to be stunning.

the voting ends and he sees you on the other side sitting on your bed with your face in your hands. he gets up to go over to you.

“where are you going?”

nam-gyu his lap dog. he sits up out of his bed to see what his owners doing.

“none of your business.”

he walks away towards you, nam-gyu watching the whole time. on the way there he pops a pill in his mouth.

“hello señorita.”

you look up and he’s stunned. god you were beautiful. he whistles at you.

“what’dya say you join me and my team over there beautiful?”

he points to the other side where you see a group of people.

“uh, no thank you.”

“come on babe don’t be so difficult. you’re over here all alone, you need alliances. and i, thanos, the greatest rapper there has ever been, is a great ally.”

you pause and think. it would be nice to have allies in a shit hole like this. but then you think back to the first game. right in front of you, a whole row of people fall forward and get shot. it wasn’t from somebody tripping. no. it’s because this guy who says his name is thanos pushed them. you’re pulled out of your thoughts and look him in the eyes.

“you killed all those people.“

he looks at you with a shocked sarcastic smile.

“did i?”

“yes. yes you did. the first game, you pushed them all. no i don’t wanna fucking be on your team are you crazy?”

he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes it back slightly before you slap his hand away.

“come on señorita, money is money! you didn’t know those people and neither did i!”

he laughs, sick. he leans forward closer to your face and then moves over to your ear.

“plus, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t join my team and switch that X.”

he leans back and points to the red X on your chest. flicking it. you stand up and ignore him before walking away from him, going to the bathroom to avoid him. he just stares your way.

“girls who play hard to get are so fucking hot.”

he runs a hand through his hair before going back to his degenerate friend nam-gyu. telling him all about you. granted he twisted a lot of shit. claiming you wanted him so bad, but was just so intimidated by how famous he is that you didn’t want part of that spotlight, and that’s why you said no. definitely was not what you said at all though.

you come back in the room, your pink hair bouncing behind you. god it looked so soft. he should’ve ran his hand through your hair while he had the chance. lights out comes about and he just sits up on his bed, taking another pill. thinking to himself what his next action should be. what if you died tomorrow and he didn’t even get the chance to kiss you? he gets up and walks back over to your side. you were trying to go to sleep, but weren’t asleep yet. he simply just grabs your elbow and pulls you behind the bed, pressing you against the wall.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

he looks you dead in the eye with a crazed look. and rubs his hands through your hair. so fucking soft.

“babe, you’re just so fucking beautiful, what if you die tomorrow? and i don’t get the chance to smoke with you, kiss you, fuck you…”

you give him a disgusted look before he grabs your face in both hands giving you a tight kiss. forcing his tongue in your mouth. you push at his chest with your hands before stomping on his foot and he jumps back.

“you fucking bitch.”

he goes back up to you before you get the chance to get away from him and he grips your hair between all his fingers. you wanted to scream but didn’t wanna make things worse. plus, nobody would help you in a place like this. constant killing and fighting. nobody gave a fuck about you. he takes a deep breath before he breaths it all out into your neck. he wraps his hands around your neck as a warning, rubbing his fingers in circles around it.

“you’re so beautiful, one of the prettiest women i’ve ever seen. just give a handsome guy like me a chance.”

he kisses you again, hands still around your neck, doing light little pulse squeezes every few seconds as a warning. he bites your lip this time drawing a little bit of blood, causing you to go to scream. but as soon as you do, he’s squeezing your throat as tight as he can, you can’t get any air, not even a single noise out. he continues to kiss you before pulling away and looking you in the eyes as you struggle to breathe. finally he lets go and pushes your hair behind your ear.

“i expect you change your mind tomorrow, kay babe? wouldn’t wanna hurt you even more, i really do like you.”

he takes a step back and you guys just hold eye contact and he swings his cross necklace, playing with it in his fingers before opening it.

“if you ever want some, just come to me. the pink one suits you perfectly.”

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!

They were alone. Just the three of them.

Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.

And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.

"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.

Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.

Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."

Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.

Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.

"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.

She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"

"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."

"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.

"You aren't angry?" Max checked.

Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.

Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"

Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really. 

But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.

"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.

Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough  to do it?" she teased him.

"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.” 

"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."

She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.

He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"

"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.

"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."

***

"Marry me," Max blurted out.

His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.

Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.

But then she smiled at him. 

"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”

Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.

Granted she had said yes the last time as well. 

He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with. 

Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.

"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"

"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”

He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.

"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."

He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."

Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."

Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.

"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.

Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.

"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.

"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one. 

"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"

"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it. 

"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.

Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.

"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."

"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh. 

He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.

"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."

"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.

"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”

[ptergwen]

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: ?

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

[witherby]

I really want to see Littlest Wayne having more interactions with the justice league, especially Hal! That bit of him getting emotional after the baby says his name was adorable 😭

You don't have to tell me twice. Get ready to get a lot of uncles and aunts 🤭 featuring more Bruce x Hal because I'm shameless

Slightly spoilerly warning: ⚠️ Emetophobia ⚠️

The Littlest Wayne: Meet the Team

Masterlist is Here!

"Oh! No. No, I don't — I'm good, actually. No thanks."

Clark gives Hal a curious look, but doesn't try to pass you over to him after that initial rejection. He smiles down at you and goes back to gently tracing the tip of his finger up and down the bridge of your nose. Your eyes droop almost immediately, then you're asleep a minute later.

"They're beautiful, Bruce," Diana says, clapping a hand against his back. Bruce, to his credit, barely stumbles.

"No names in costume," he says.

"You literally brought us your infant child to coo at," Barry chimes in, cracking open a bag of chips. "They're in a Cookie Monster onesie. I think we can let it slide just the once."

"Hnn," Bruce mutters. He lets the edges of his cape fall over his chest, cloaking his limbs and torso until he looks like one, solid shape. "Only the once."

Barry grins, zipping past him to stand in front of Clark and gush over your snoozing form. Oliver held you for a minute when Bruce first showed up to introduce you to the team, then Dinah stole you from him and peppered kisses all over your face until you were squealing with laughter. J'onn carefully held you how he was instructed and told everyone you were thinking about how colorful they each looked. Arthur jokingly asked if Bruce wanted him to baptize you. Arthur swiftly lost his baby privileges. Then Diana held you kind of like someone weighing a ham, nodded once, called you "phenomenal," and handed you off to Clark, where you currently remain.

It was a little curious to see Hal so vehemently refuse to hold you when, as far as Bruce can see, he hasn't taken his eyes off you the whole time you've been in the Watchtower. Even more curiously, before Clark did that little nose trick to get you to sleep, you'd been staring right back at him.

Bruce could go Full Investigation Mode on this, but he understands that it might be a bit much to do to someone he's only been seeing for, like, ten weeks. They haven't even talked about labels yet.

So he does a small guilt trip instead.

Just a small one. Microscopic, really.

Completely harmless.

When he holds out his arms for you, Clark reluctantly surrenders, and you snuggle up to your father with a soft huff. Bruce delicately thumbs over your cheek, taking a moment to admire you, then carries you over to Hal and puts his very harmless plan into motion.

"It's a shame you hate my baby."

Hal looks like he got shot. Guilt Trip Plan: 6/10, too traumatizing. Refine for future use.

"I'm kidding," Bruce says, trying to cushion the blow. "Calm down."

"Jesus, Spooky," Hal mutters, rubbing his temples, "do you ever just ask normal questions outright?"

"Of course I do," Bruce says. "Last night, when we were both free, I asked you if you were interested in having se—"

"Okay!" He waves his hands, glancing at you with panicked eyes, which Bruce finds absurd. You're barely old enough to comprehend the fact that you have a body, let alone the ability to start processing language. You don't even know your name. You do kind of recognize Bruce's voice, but mainly when he's changing or feeding you, and only by his tone. It's all just senseless noise for you, otherwise, stimuli you allow to wash over you without putting conscious thought to it.

Bruce sighs and takes a smaller step closer to Hal. Hal takes a step back.

"I'm very curious about where this is coming from," Bruce says, choosing to be blunt. "You're fantastic with children, in and out of costume."

He takes another step forward. Hal takes another step back.

"Yeah, sure — kids and stuff — not babies," Hal says. "Kids can walk and talk and aren't...y'know, breakable."

"The baby isn't made of glass, Lantern."

One step forward. One step back.

"I know that! But they're also, y'know...just there. Kids are just tiny people. Babies are babies."

One step forward. One step back.

"I feel obligated to inform you that babies are also classified as people. They have social security numbers, birth certificates —"

One step forward. One step back.

"You know what I meant, don't get smart with me."

"I'm trying to know what you mean, actually. It's not like you don't want to hold them, I can see in your face that you do. The question is why you won't."

One step forward. One step back.

"Bruce, I need you to turn that gorgeous detective brain off for ten seconds and realize how intense you're being. I'm literally being backed into a corner."

Bruce stops walking. Hal can't walk back anymore because he's flush against the wall. Oops.

He acquiesces with a step back and turns his focus back on you. Your eyes are twitching under the lids. He wonders what you're dreaming about.

"This child is mine," Bruce says quietly. "I'm not asking you to step up and play stepfather, Hal, but this is a package deal. Them, and my boys. If that's too much...if that's a deal breaker —"

"Oh," Hal says, "no. Hey, no, of course it isn't! I'm not like that, B, I'm just — I've never — ugh."

He wills the domino mask away so he can rub his eyes, groaning, then shakes his head.

"They always puke!"

Bruce pauses. Thinks. Comes up empty. "Elaborate."

"Babies! Every time I hold a baby, they vomit on me. It's like some horrible magic trick or something, but I swear to you, I've never held a baby and it be able to keep its formula down."

Hal looks very distressed as he admits this, gesturing emphatically to get his point across. Bruce finds it endearing.

"Babies are the most adorable things on the planet. You think I don't wanna take them from you and snuggle up on the couch all day? I do! But they're gonna hurl about it!"

"Okay."

"I swear I'm not lyi— okay?"

"Okay," Bruce says. "I don't want you to get puked on, and I don't want to clean up more baby vomit than I have to. It stains absolutely everything it touches. It's a nightmare." He shifts his weight, rocking you slowly when you start to fuss. Is it a bad dream, or do you feel stuffy in the onesie? He'll take you home and get you down in the crib, soon. "But that's good to know. We'll figure something out."

"We will?" Hal says. "You aren't upset?"

"No. In fact, thank you for admitting it. I would have been pissed if you made my baby spit up and didn't warn me ahead of time."

Hal snorts. Bruce cracks a small smile, looking back down at your sleeping form. You seem to be settling again.

"So you'll have to wait a little longer to say hi to uncle Hal," he murmurs. "That's fine."

"Sorry for eavesdropping, but if he's Uncle Hal, can I be Uncle Clark?" The Kryptonian asks, almost shyly as he floats over. "Also, I didn't make the baby spit up. Can I hold 'em again?"

"We get to be uncles?? Hell yesssss," Barry says, pumping his fist.

"I will be the most impressive uncle among you," Diana declares, cracking her knuckles. "How do we battle for such a title?"

"You're an Auntie, Di."

"Then I will be the most impressive auntie among you."

"I think we're all just gonna let you have that one. You win."

Diana smiles, triumphant.

[kouzih]

Freak.

Nam-gyu ( Player 124 ) x gn!reader .ᐟ

warnings: insulting words , spitting/saliva

tags,, @gongyoosgf @bbyjjunie @seonghwasslytherin @wp2222-y

(hahaha ..this took longer than i thought.. hope you guys will enjoy it tho)

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ You were intrigued by the slow crowd of people that started to gather around, and you noticed that they were all coming holding something for you guys to eat in hands. You weren't hungry and it didn't really interest you. But you were getting thirsty, and you could use them for later. You got off your bed and slowly started to walk towards them, looking around as you fumbled with your hands. You voted for "O" at voting time, so people with the same sign on them got more of your attention.

Most people were already seated and starting to eat, some were still waiting in line, and when you turned your head a little more to the side, your eyes fell on the two people already watching you. Realizing this, your movement slowed down and you started to stand next to the line. Your eyes went to their numbers without realizing it, you read them under your breath. "230 and..124?" You couldn't see the other person's number properly, his position didn't allow it. Still, they both looked familiar. The one with dyed hair was chattering about wanting everyone to be on his team before, the person who pressed the button after looking at the other team was the same person sitting next to him. You were thankful you weren't with them during the vote, because they were seriously a pain in the neck.

The other player you mentioned was looking at you with his face raised, you waved back out of habit, they must not have bad intentions.. you thought. You turn your head and are about to get in line when you notice one of them waving back at you lazily. A small giggle leaves you as you step into line.

Coming back with your hands full, you change your mind and walk down the metal stairs before climbing into your bed. When you reach their bed you notice them talking to each other, it takes a few seconds for them to realize you've arrived. "I saw you waving back at me," you mumble, turning your head to the long-haired man. "Oh- yeah I did." He answers briefly. As you open your mouth to speak again, his friend standing next to him interrupts. "But you were the first one to wave at my bro, so what?" Your expression changes momentarily and you answer quietly, letting out a shaky breath. "Well, I know-" "Then what is it?" He was really impatient. He didn't even let you finish your sentence.

"I know." A sound of surprise escaped your lips as you focused on where the sound was coming from. "You want to be with us, right?" "Why didn't you say so!" The purple haired boy nearly shouted, standing up to grab one of your hands and smiling. You hadn't even noticed the other man walk up behind you, your body flinched when you felt his hair fall over your shoulder.

As he took the items in your hands, he realized that you hadn't even opened them yet. "What's this? You're giving us your food?" "Seriously?" "Yeah bro, they didn't even touch them." The purple-haired man looks at his friend's hands, turning his attention away from you. "Sweeeet!" Shaking your hand he talked again. "That's what we're talking about bro!" With a nervous chuckle, you tried to pull your hands away from him, completely forgetting about the man standing behind you as you took a step back. You squeaked as you bumped into his chest. "Wow, wow- calm down." Your eyes involuntarily drifted towards his hands and you started reaching for your drink.

"Can I have it back?" He doesn't give you an answer as he opens the box with one hand. His other hand is on its way to the bed behind him, putting the other box down. He takes a few sips from your drink, ignoring you. "Not fair broo, share." That was.. awkward. After their yapping you went back to bed, crawling in it. As you were muttering something under your breath, a voice suddenly made you jump.

"What'd you say?" You sit up to see where the sound was coming from, your vision wasn't very clear 'cause of the lights being off as you blinked. You make an eye contact with a figure at the end of the bed, his face resting on his arms, his eyes narrowed. You spoke slowly, keeping your voice low. "Why are you here?" As the smile on his face slowly fades, he stands up. "You're not fun, can't I fucking come and have a chat with my teammate?"

"You're creepy." You said it so fast you didn’t even realize it came out of your mouth. After a short silence, he gets into bed and starts climbing towards you. "Fucking whore." He hissed under his breath, causing you to change your position so he can't reach you that easily. He stops right in front of you, one hand moving up to your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You have a mouth and you dare to use it on me, huh?" His grip tightened. His knees were touching your feet under the sheets, almost crushing them. He had a smile on his face that made you feel disgusted. His legs pressing into your thighs, holding you in place. It was obvious from the way he spoke that he was pissed, He hissed at you once more, closer to your face. "Answer me, you fucking-" He was talking in such a way that his saliva was coming to your face.

You narrowed one of your eyes and reflexively wiped the wetness off your face. "What am I supposed to say? Don't you think it's normal for me to be startled by someone talking out of nowhere?" Your voice was low, muffled by his grip. The expression on his face didn't change for a while, your eyes following him, realizing he was going to make a sudden move. When he takes his hand off your chin and you're about to bow your head, he suddenly grabs your chin again, even harder now. "Oh, did my saliva disgust you?" He says, in a way no different than the way he spoke before. "When I ask you a question, you can't speak..but you dare to wipe your face? .. Pathetic."

The pressure on his legs was increasing more, he didn’t let go of his grip, pulling your head down a little more. "You better get used to it, soon your whole face will be covered in nothing but my fucking saliva." His grip loosened, his fingers trailing down to your neck, the cold ring almost scratching your throat as you breathed heavily with your mouth open. His fingers move towards the back of your head, towards your hair, and wrap the strands of hair between his fingers.

"You didn't get a chance to drink anything, did you? Aww, poor baby, you must be thirsty." It was so obvious that he was mocking you and that he was enjoying it. Your mumbles were inaudible due to his tightness, he could only hear a few whispers you made for him to let go. "Now, now, don't you fucking dare to kick." He relieved the pressure on her leg, almost making it seem like he was sitting on your lap.

The smile on his face does not fall as his free hand grasps his lips, licking his teeth with his tongue. "Open up." You refused, you couldn't even breathe properly because of the things he did to you. His nail begins to press against your lip, the cold metal of his ring brushing against the tip of your jaw. You were thankful that his nails weren't long enough to make your lip bleed. "I know you're nothing but a fucking slut," pressing his nail against your teeth "now open your useless mouth before I make you coughing on your own blood." Even the thought made you shiver, opening your mouth wide, admitting your defeat.

Pressing his finger against the tip of your tooth he opens your mouth wider. "At least you're learning.." He adjusted his position and pulled himself back a little more. Since your eyes are half closed, you can't see him fully, your vision is limited. You hear a sucking sound and the next second you feel a wet feeling in your mouth. Before you could realize what the liquid in your mouth is, his fingers force you to cover your mouth, using one of his fingers to insert the part of it that is leaking from the corner of your lip. This movement causes you to swallow involuntarily. "Hah." After wiping his wet finger on the corner of your cardigan, he takes it back to its previous place. "What a slut we have here.." You couldn’t speak as you let out quiet breaths, the realization that your words wouldn’t convey anything to him only made you feel worse. His voice was coming from throat, there was a feeling inside the way he talked that you couldn't figure out.

"You fucking enjoyed it, didn't you? The feeling of my juices in that dirty mouth of yours excites you? Yeah? Freak. " He said the last part more slowly. Your breathing had somewhat got better, but all you could do was grip the sheets beneath you and try to keep your eyes open. Underneath his giggling he slowly started to move away from you, sitting on the sheets. "Guess you're not thirsty anymore." One of his hands brushes against the sheet while your hands moving to cover your mouth. After sighing, he moves to the corner of the bed, and a small grunt is heard when he hears your voice. "Wait-" "What?" He looks at his own hands, raising an eyebrow. You didn't even know why you stopped him, after a few seconds of silence you took your hand off your mouth and as you opened your mouth to speak you heard a 'pfft' sound.

He did it again. "Hell, keep your mouth shut." Reaching out from the corner of the bed, he gives your legs a little squish. "Okay, done, happy?" He says quickly as he fixes his own clothes and hair, his hands clasped together and his eyes turn to you. You swallowed it again with momentary tension, You let out an annoyed sigh and put your hand to your head. Even though you couldn't see his look, you knew he was smiling like crazy, with one last word before he left, leaving you there devastated and overwhelmed.

"Nam-gyu."

Well, at least you know his name now.

[writing-mlm]

sharky the writer you are.. 🙏 could we get another scott x male reader where the reader is a more dominant figure? like kinda playing into the fact scott says he likes people stronger than him and tells emma “you know me, ms. frost. i live to serve.” doesn’t have to be super smutty or anything but sub scott has been on my mind since i saw the cover for the 100th anniversary special where emma pulls a riding crop on him.

Get a room

Summary: After recovering from being held hostage, Scott uses training as an excuse to get under you. Pairing: Scott Summers x Winged!Male!reader Wc: 1.6k Tags: no smut, very sexual though, some medical talk because Scotty is injured, Scott is a loser when it comes to displays of strength

Scott Summers; family man. The kind of guy you can happily bring to meet your family; the type of guy who’d stare your father's gun down with a smile and still shake his hand with a firm grip. 

Cyclops; the leader. The kind of guy who commands a room without entering it; the type of guy who’s fought his whole life and will continue to do so. 

Scotty; your love. He’s Scott Summers and he’s Cyclops. He’s a man with an incredibly complex upbringing with too many feelings to unravel in one lifetime. 

You know him inside and out, boring his soul into yours like a warm hug. So it’s to no one's surprise when you’re put in charge of the extraction team to get him and other mutants out of wherever they’ve been held captive for a week now.

The large metal keys clank to the ground as the door swings open. Breathing a sigh of relief when you see Scott is there, you take a moment to compose yourself and look around the room. It’s just an empty room with a tiny window at the top and Scott in the middle. You frown, seeing that he is tied up in some weird dungeon in the middle of the ocean. 

But he’s otherwise unharmed. 

He looks up at you, a ghost of a smile resting nicely on his face. 

“That pose looks good on you,” You grinned, running your fingers along his arms flexed behind his back, pinning him to sit on his knees. 

“Just help me,” He groaned, tugging at the metal cuffs but they didn't budge. Snapping the chain with a tug, you carefully grab his wrists and break the metal connecting them together. He shudders and rubs his wrists; sure they’re going to be sore for a while. “Thank you,” He says as he stands up.

“You can kiss me later, this place is about to blow up— can you open the wall?” He blinks but grabs onto you and blasts the cement wall. It explodes and you cover the two of you with your wing, the thick white feathers blocking the rubble and dust. It oddly sounds like rain hitting an umbrella. When it stops, you shake the wing off and grab him before diving out. 

Scott smells the salty sea air as you’re barreling towards the water before you spread your wings and shoot into the sky. He tucks his head in, fearing the air will blow off his shades until you land inside the jet. His feet touch the metal and he unwraps himself from you but still holds onto you for support as you guide him up to the cockpit. 

“That’s everyone,” You huff. “Took me a minute to find Scotty.” Rubbing his head, he clears his throat- a silent plea that he needs to look professional right now - and thanks everyone on your temporary team. Not a moment later several explosions can be heard in close succession and then the sound of heavy stones hitting the water. 

He settles onto his normal seat on the jet while you check over everyone; providing snack boxes to all of them because you’re sure they were starved in that place. 

Once you’re back at the mansion, you drag Scott into the infirmary. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have even entertained the idea but there’s not much he can do to convince you to let him go. 

“I’m fine,” He insists while Hank checks his vitals for the third time. It’s been an hour of him sitting there in the uncomfortable hospital gown. 

“You have a greenstick fracture on both of your arms,” You correct, flipping through his chart. “Your blood pressure is dangerously low, you’ve lost seventeen pounds in two weeks, and your hips and knees were dislocated— they’re still dislocated.”

“Then heal me, angel,” He grins but winces when the pressure band expands on his arm. You chuckle, shaking your head. 

“Charming, but you need your fluids first. Hank will start an IV drip once he’s done with that and then I’ll transfer you up to our room, ‘kay?” He sighs but nods. 

“Can I at least help you?” He asks just before you leave. “You still have bits of concrete in your wings.” Thinking about it, you see Hank give a noncommittal shrug. 

Sitting on the bed between his legs, Scott helps pick out the rubble from your feathers. His careful fingers preane and pry, dusting and gentle fixing. It doesn’t bother you, your wings and feathers are strong. You hardly feel it when someone touches them. But he still takes such good care of them when you can’t. 

After he’s done, Hank cleans up his arm and you watch as he starts the IV drip. He doesn’t need to tell you the instructions for Scott; you’ve done this enough times and gotten through half of your residency to know how to handle an injured Scott. 

Scooping him up, he looks away but holds onto your shoulder with this non-IV arm. He’s ever aware you’re carrying him with one arm, the other holding the monitor and drip bags the whole way up from the basement to the second floor. 

Oh, how he envies Kurt for having blue fur.

—

When Scott fully heals, which takes longer than he likes because you refuse to heal his hip until he’s put back on the weight from before, he goes back to normal. Almost immediately he begs for a fight; a training exercise— anything. He literally gets on his knees begging because you’d rather spend your afternoon outside than in the stuffy training room. But how can you deny your Scotty? Especially when he’d taken your orders while injured like a champ.

“C’mon Scotty,” You coo, trailing your finger along the length of his jaw, stopping just before your finger left the tip of his chin. “I know you can do it, just a little more.” He grins, his lips wobbling as he struggles against your wings. He grunts, feeling you put more pressure down on him. 

“That’s my boy,” You tease, watching him squirm and huff under you. You’re not even touching him, hovering above his stomach with just your wings pinning his chest to the ground. “You can last longer, right?” 

“I can,” He nods rapidly, breathless. “I can take it.” His eyes dart from the white feathers to your teasing face and he blows air from his mouth. You lessen the grip, causing a soft whine to escape him, his hands clawing at your pants. 

Originally, he wanted to prove that he could escape from under you without his beams. You disagreed, naturally. Because he benches maybe three hundred while you bench four times that, but he was incredibly insistent. A part of you knows he’s getting off to this, though. 

“Good boy,” He moans, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip before he gives up, chest heaving as he relaxes against your grip. Giving up, he rests on his elbows before staring up at you as you scoot up, sitting on his chest. Like putty underneath you, he stares up, resting his head on your leg. You run your fingers through his hair, the sweat from the edge of his hairline makes his hair awfully messy. 

“Can you two stop train-fucking already?” Emma scoffs as she walks into the training room with some students. You roll your eyes and lift yourself up, hovering in the air while Scott quickly stands up and gives the students a quick acknowledgment. 

“We’re preparing for tomorrow’s lesson,” He tells her but he’s unable to deny the red that’s spread across his face. 

“Hopefully it’s less sexually charged.” She teases and you laugh, knocking her with your wing before you drag Scott out. There are other rooms where you practice— actually practice this time. Scouts honor. But Scott just wants to finish up his workout so you join him. He’s on the Stairmaster while you’re using the leg press. 

The height advantage he has allows for him to watch you as he tries to beat his record on that horrible machine. He watches as your legs tense under the heavy plates, how you’re not holding onto the bars but rather on your phone. It’s crazy but the lack of acknowledgement of the weight makes his legs wobbly and he holds onto the handles for balance. 

“You okay, Scotty?” You ask, hearing the sloppy foot placement and the near slip. “Need a break?” Immediately the idea of beating his record is thrown out the window and he shuts down the machine. 

“Mhmm,” He nods and climbs down, making his way over to you. He goes to sit on the floor but you place him over your lap, smiling up at him. Your phone is tossed to the floor, and all of your focus is on him. 

“Do your legs hurt?” You ask, feigning being oblivious to the real issue as you work on massaging his calves. “I wasn’t too harsh earlier, was I?” 

“No,” He holds your wrists, keeping your hands there. “You weren’t. Yes, they hurt a little.” You hum while you shift a little and watch as his eyes close before he looks down at you. 

“What? I have to be in the right position.” You defend yourself as the door to the gym opens. He looks up while you continue your reps, using your wing to wave at whoever walked inside. 

“Must you two always be touching each other?” Storm chides as she walks past the two of you. Scott grins, resting his arms on the plate behind your head so he can watch her head over to the treadmills. 

“I need a spotter for the leg press, Ro!” You laugh at the poor excuse, looking up from Scott's chest and at his neck where you press a soft kiss. He hums, closing his legs further on your thighs. 

“And you know me, Ororo, I live to serve.”

[stardustamaryllis78]

I was thinking about Zubeia's info dump about Aaravos and how she calls him a villain for "pulling strings and causing all the world's crisis."

But then I started to think about in season 7 and the conversation between Aaravos and Ezran where Ezran says, "Your crimes cannot be counted Aaravos. But they're remembered by your victims throughout Xadia." Aaravos responds, "It seems you have already decided upon my guilt." To which Ezran responds, "Guilty or not, a king must look into the faces and hear the words of those he judges. Aaravos, what do you have to say for yourself?" Aaravos replies, "I am innocent."

And remember, Aaravos can only tell the truth whereas Zubeia is capable of lying.

So then I started to think about the rest of the conversation and how Aaravos states that the reason he "betrayed" the Dragons and the Elves is because he gave humans magic. This is even backed up with Sol Regem and Rex Igneous calling Aaravos "Betrayer".

So, at the end of the day, it would appear that Zubeia was incorrect about her claims with what Aaravos had done. Aaravos appeared to have been aiding humans, especially humans with magic he gave them but saying he created every world crisis is just outright wrong. Especially as, after he was imprisoned, many crisis' still occurred. He was literally hated for giving magic to what Dragon's and Elves considered to be lesser beings.

Now of course, there is the whole "compromise" thing where of course Aaravos can control Dark Mages if he so wishes but let me put this to you, why didn't he control Viren when he first saw him? Why work with him instead of outright controlling him? Plus, before Callum was purified of Dark Magic, Aaravos possessed him once so he could talk (roast) Team Zym before he dipped, why not just control him there and then? It would appear that Aaravos does not use Dark Mages as vessels very often, if at all, unless he really has to. A back up if you will. Aaravos likes to plan things ahead after all.

Another thing to think about is the fact that literally everyone was saying that if Aaravos was released from his prison, all hell would break loose but what really happened? A few spirits were released and he killed the Archdragons. Aaravos' main goal is to take down an unjust Order even if that villainizes himself.

In conclusion, it seems like at the end of the day, Zubeia's story was heavily exaggerated and Aaravos' biggest "crime" was giving magic to suffering human beings.

Has Aaravos committed crimes? Yes. But a lot of characters in this show have. And at the end of the day, Aaravos taking out the Cosmic Order for a world of equality is actually a good thing in the long run. Even if some of his methods of going about it are questionable.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 3: Beach Day (R)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it give you happy thoughts.

The next afternoon, the squad gathered on the beach behind The Hard Deck for a team-building exercise that, unsurprisingly, turned into a wild game of dogfight football.

You had opted for a black TYR bikini with a sporty design—a supportive bra-style top paired with boy shorts—that highlighted your toned, athletic physique. Your shoulder-length hair was swept up in a ponytail, and a beach bag hung from your left shoulder. A pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses shielded your eyes from the sun as you took in the lively scene.

The game was in full swing as you strolled up to Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, who was lounging in a beach chair, observing the squad with a relaxed smile.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” you greeted, your tone polite.

Phoenix caught sight of you and waved enthusiastically. You waved back, your eyes inadvertently drifting toward Hangman.

He was clad in a pair of black board shorts and wore Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses identical to yours. His shirtless, sun-kissed chest glistened with sweat under the afternoon sun, and the sight sent a spark of excitement through you—an unfamiliar sensation you hadn’t felt in a long time.

As if sensing your gaze, he glanced briefly in your direction before calling out to his teammates, urging the game to continue.

“Doctor, Y/N. Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

You nodded and took a seat. “Thank you, but please—Y/N is just fine. No need for formalities.”

He chuckled. “Phoenix said you’d say that. But still, you should be proud of your accomplishments.”

“Oh, I am,” you replied with a small smile. “It’s just that on vacation, I prefer to keep things low-key.”

He chuckled again. “With my position and years in the game, I’ve got nothing left to prove.”

A brief silence fell between you as you both watched the game unfold. You made an effort not to watch Hangman’s every move, but your eyes couldn’t help but drift back to him time and time again.

“He may be arrogant and cocky with one hell of an ego, but he’s got a heart,” Maverick said, his tone light but sincere.

“Sorry?” You turned to him, slightly taken aback.

“Hangman,” he clarified, nodding toward the game.

“Oh.” You shook your head dismissively. “I wouldn’t know. I really wasn’t paying attention to him,” you replied, though your voice betrayed a hint of defensiveness.

Maverick chuckled knowingly. “Well, if you didn’t notice him, he’s definitely been noticing you.” With that, he stood and stretched. “Excuse me,” he added before making his way toward The Hard Deck.

You turned your gaze back to the game, determined to focus on it. Or at least, you tried.

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

A few hours later, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the beach bathed in the warm glow of a bonfire. The squad had gathered around, laughter and conversation filling the air.

Phoenix sat next to Rooster across from you, the two of them chatting animatedly about who knows what. Their easy smiles and the subtle way they leaned toward each other had you wondering about your best friend’s relationship with him.

The warm weather had turned a bit chilly, and you felt a slight shiver run through your body. You had put on a tank top earlier, but it wasn’t enough to ward off the cool evening breeze. Crossing your arms, you rubbed them to warm up.

Then, you felt something drape over your shoulders. Turning, you saw Hangman sitting to your left, a blanket now settled over you.

“Penny said you looked a bit chilled,” Hangman said, taking a sip of his beer as you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders.

“Penny, huh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “I may or may not have noticed too.”

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice softer now, and turned your gaze back to the fire.

Jake stood there for a moment, watching you, the warmth of the fire casting shadows on his face. His grin faded slightly, replaced by a quiet curiosity as he took another sip of his beer. The air around you both seemed to settle into a comfortable silence, and for once, it felt like the chaos of the bar had faded away, leaving just the two of you by the fire.

“So,” he started, breaking the quiet, “what’s life like for someone who’s not all about fighter jets and bar games? You live in Wisconsin, but that’s a far cry from this place. What do you do when you're not taking breaks from all the noise?”

You chuckled softly, the sound of it mixing with the crackling of the fire. “I’m a biologist. I work for the Department of Natural Resources up there,” you said, gesturing vaguely to the distant horizon as if it somehow captured the essence of where you were from. “Mostly conservation stuff. Studying wildlife, managing habitats... that kind of thing.”

His eyes softened a little, his usual cocky grin replaced by genuine interest. "That sounds... peaceful," he said, leaning slightly closer. "Far different from the world I live in."

You nodded, your gaze still fixed on the flames. "It is. But I love it. There’s something calming about being surrounded by nature. And it gives me a chance to... think." You glanced at him then, a slight vulnerability creeping into your voice. "Sometimes that’s the hardest part, you know? Finding time to just think."

Jake’s gaze lingered on you, his posture loosening slightly as he adjusted his stance, his beer bottle now resting loosely in his hand. He looked like he might say something, but instead, he simply nodded, as if understanding what you meant without needing to ask.

After a few beats, he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. "I get that. Sometimes I need the quiet, too. But it’s hard to find out here. Always something happening, always someone pulling you in a hundred different directions."

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, sensing an unexpected depth beneath the confident exterior. "Seems like you could use a break too, huh?" you teased gently, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Jake’s grin returned, but this time it was softer, more genuine. "Maybe I’ll take a page from your book. Get away from the noise for a while."

There was a comfortable silence again, and for a moment, it almost felt like you weren’t two strangers who had just met under the most unlikely of circumstances. The fire crackled between you, its warmth a welcome contrast to the cool breeze in the air, and for once, you allowed yourself to just be in the moment.

"Anyway," Jake added, breaking the quiet with his familiar mischievous tone, "if you’re ever in need of a break from all that peace and quiet, you know where to find me."

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. “Oh? And what would I find there?”

He shrugged casually, his grin returning with a bit more swagger. "Maybe some pool. A little banter. And definitely no shortage of fighter pilots."

You laughed, a genuine sound that seemed to surprise even yourself. "I’ll keep that in mind."

He studied you for a moment, his head cocked. “You don’t say much, do you?”

You shrugged. “There’s not much to say.”

Jake’s grin softened as he took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Funny. I get the feeling there's more to you than just the quiet side." He leaned forward casually, his elbows resting on his thighs, the beer bottle cradled between his hands.

You met his stare, a flicker of something deeper crossing your mind. "I suppose that's true," you replied slowly, your voice quieter now. "But people like things neat. Easy to understand. And sometimes, it’s easier if I don’t explain everything."

Jake’s expression remained thoughtful, not pressing you, but clearly curious. "You don’t have to explain anything you’re not ready to," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. "But don’t let the silence fool anyone. I can tell there’s more to you than just the calm exterior."

A small, rueful smile played at the corner of your lips. "Maybe. Or maybe it’s just easier not to let people in too far."

He nodded, seeming to understand without you needing to say much more. There was a quiet respect between you now, an unspoken agreement that this conversation, like the evening, could simply unfold at its own pace.

"Fair enough," he said with a shrug, his teasing grin returning. "But if you ever feel like letting someone in—" he paused, his eyes twinkling, "—you know where to find me."

You felt your heart skip a beat, but you quickly masked it with a teasing look. "You sure know how to make an offer sound dangerous."

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and easy. "I’m full of surprises," he said with a wink, before taking another sip of his beer.

You found yourself wondering if that was true—if Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was really as unpredictable as he appeared or if there was something more beneath that cocky, confident exterior. And, for the first time in a long while, you actually thought about discovering the answer.

Tags: @smoothdogsgirl @alwayshave-faith @devil-angel-winchester @khouse712 @illisea @hookslove1592 @tgmreader

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hello everyone!! This is the first lesson of the long awaited unofficial season 4 of Obey me Nightbringer written by yours truly <3

I will post lessons every 10 days.

I hope you enjoy it (it came out a little long but I hope it's not a problem)

Please make sure this finds other obey me lovers and people who don't want the series to end.

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

@arie2faced wanted to be tagged so there you go!

Lesson 61: “Echoes of Change”

Preparations for the Grand Gala

The story begins with you and the brothers preparing for a grand event in the Devildom—the Infernal Gala, a highly anticipated celebration hosted by Diavolo to showcase unity and strength among the three realms. The brothers are busy with their individual tasks, and you help them throughout the day, making sure none of them are slacking off and checking the quality of their work.

Morning with Mammon

You find Mammon frantically trying to pick an outfit in his room, clothes scattered everywhere. He groans as he holds up a jacket, glaring at it like it personally offended him.

Mammon: “This stupid thing doesn’t fit right! What if I don’t look good enough? Diavolo’ll never let me hear the end of it!”

You: “You’re overthinking it, Mammon. You look great in anything.”

You pick up a sleek black jacket with gold trim from the pile and hold it up to him.

You: “Here, try this one. It suits you.”

Mammon grumbles but puts it on. When he turns to the mirror, his expression softens.

Mammon: “Huh. Guess it ain’t too bad… But y’know, it’s only ‘cause you picked it. You’ve got good taste.”

He pauses, scratching the back of his neck as he glances at you.

Mammon: “I dunno what I’d do without ya. Don’t tell the others, but… you’re my good luck charm, so stick close, alright?”

Afternoon with Leviathan

Levi is in his room, staring nervously at a stack of invitation cards. You peek in and see him pacing.

You: “Levi, what’s wrong?”

Leviathan: “It’s the Gala! There’s gonna be so many people there. What if I mess up? What if someone tries to talk to me and I freeze up?!”

You gently take his hands, grounding him.

You: “You’ll do great, Levi. And I’ll be there if you need me. We’re a team, remember?”

Levi calms down a little, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

Leviathan: “Y-Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, with you around, I don’t have to worry as much. You’re like my Player Two in this crazy multiplayer game called life.”

He hesitates, then smiles shyly.

Leviathan: “Thanks. I mean it. You’re, like… my favorite rare find.”

Library with Satan

Satan is in the library, scanning a shelf filled with ancient tomes. He looks up when you enter, a small smile playing on his lips.

Satan: “Perfect timing. I was looking for this.”

He hands you a book bound in emerald green, the title in golden script: "The Legends of the Infernal Gala."

Satan: “I thought you might like to know more about the Gala’s history. It’s fascinating, really—did you know it started as a peace treaty celebration?”

You sit together, flipping through the pages. At one point, your fingers brush, and Satan pauses.

Satan: “You always surprise me. You’re curious, thoughtful, and unafraid to stand by us—even when things get complicated.”

He leans closer, his voice softer.

Satan: “I hope you know how much that means to me."

Dressing Room with Asmodeus

Asmo is in his room, surrounded by a dizzying array of outfits. He twirls in front of the mirror, striking a pose.

Asmodeus: “Tell me, which one screams ‘absolutely irresistible’? This one, or…”

He switches to another outfit, beaming at you.

You: “They’re both amazing, Asmo. You always look stunning.”

Asmodeus: (grinning) “Oh, you always know just what to say. But you know what? I think I’ll wear something that complements you. After all, we’ll be the center of attention together.”

He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Asmodeus: “You have this way of making me feel… special. Like I don’t need to try so hard, because I’m enough just as I am. Thank you for that."

Kitchen with Beelzebub

Beel is in the kitchen, preparing snacks for the event. You help him arrange platters of food, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air.

Beelzebub: “Thanks for helping. I usually just eat everything, but it feels nice to make something for others.”

As you finish, Beel offers you a piece of chocolate from the tray, his expression soft.

Beelzebub: “You’re always looking out for us. It makes me want to do the same for you.”

He smiles, his usual straightforward honesty shining through.

Beelzebub: “You’re like family to me… but also more than that. I’m glad you’re here.”

Attic with Belphegor

Belphie is lying on a pile of blankets in the attic, staring at the ceiling. You join him, and he shifts to make room.

Belphegor: “The Gala’s gonna be exhausting. Too many people, too much noise. But at least you’ll be there.”

He closes his eyes, his voice soft.

Belphegor: “You’re the only one who makes all this bearable, you know. Stay with me a while. Just you and me, away from everything else.”

You rest beside him, and for a moment, the world feels quiet.

Study with Lucifer

Lucifer is in his study, reviewing event schedules and security measures. He looks up as you enter, his expression softening.

Lucifer: “Ah, I was just going over the final details. It’s a relief to see you—you have a calming effect, even on someone like me.”

You share a quiet moment, the crackling of the fireplace filling the silence. Lucifer pours you a glass of Demonus, his movements elegant.

Lucifer: “The Infernal Gala represents unity, strength, and peace. But for me… it’s also a reminder of how far we’ve come.”

He gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth.

Lucifer: “You’ve been a part of that journey. More than you realize.”

The calm shatteres

The next morning, you are in the gardens of the House of Lamentation, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sky is a deep, rich purple, with faint stars twinkling above. Beelzebub joins you, carrying a tray of snacks.

Beelzebub: “You’ve been quiet today. Something on your mind?”

You: (smiling softly) “Not really. Just thinking about how calm everything feels right now. It’s… nice.”

Beelzebub: (sitting beside you) “Yeah. Feels like it’s been a while since things were this peaceful. Lucifer hasn’t yelled at anyone today, and Mammon hasn’t set anything on fire… yet.”

You both share a laugh, but before the moment can last, a faint tremor shakes the ground. Beel jumps to his feet.

Beelzebub: “What was that?”

A ripple of energy passes through the garden, and several flowers wilt instantly. The air feels charged, heavy. You feel a faint pulse from your pact mark, though you don’t fully understand it yet.

You and Beel rush inside the House of Lamentation, where chaos has already begun. Furniture is floating, magical items are malfunctioning, and the brothers are in disarray.

Mammon: (running around) “Somebody fix this! My wallet turned into a bat and flew off! That’s my life savings in there!”

Leviathan: (clutching his D.D.D.) “Do you know how many hours of gameplay I just lost?! This is worse than the Great Reset of Akuzon Prime!”

Lucifer: (trying to remain composed) “Everyone, calm down. Panicking will accomplish nothing.”

Belphegor: (yawning) “Wake me when this is over. Or don’t. I’m fine either way.”

You notice your pact mark faintly glowing whenever the chaos intensifies. Asmodeus steps in, looking alarmed.

Asmodeus: “Is it just me, or does the energy in the house feel… weird? It’s like something’s out of sync.”

Before anyone can respond, the chandelier shatters with a loud crash. Lucifer’s patience snaps.

Lucifer: “Enough! Everyone, to the Demon Lord’s Castle—now. Diavolo needs to hear about this immediately.”

Emergency Meeting with Diavolo

The group arrives at the Demon Lord’s Castle. Diavolo greets you all with a worried expression, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a more serious air. Barbatos stands quietly by his side, his gaze sharp and observant.

Diavolo: “Ah, you’ve arrived. I trust you’ve noticed the disturbances, then?”

Lucifer: “Noticed is an understatement. The House of Lamentation is in complete disarray. What’s causing this?”

Diavolo’s expression tightens, and he motions for you all to take a seat.

Diavolo: “It’s more than just your house, Lucifer. The magical ley lines that run through the Devildom are experiencing unusual fluctuations. Spells are failing, spells are overloading… and the environment itself is becoming unstable.”

Diavolo remains silent for a short while before speaking again.

Diavolo: "Remember when a few months ago the Devildom moon begun moving closer to us? And how MC stopped it with the help of (name of the brother you chose in lesson 60)? I think it might be somehow related to all this.

Barbatos: (nodding gravely) “We’ve been monitoring the situation for the past few weeks, but the source remains elusive. The ley lines should remain stable, but we are seeing powerful surges in energy that we cannot explain.”

Simeon: (calmly interjecting) “It’s a troubling situation, indeed. I’ve been sensing something off as well, but I can’t make sense of it.”

Solomon: (looking up from his scrolls) “The balance between the realms is delicate. It’s entirely possible this disturbance has something to do with the convergence of magical energies—perhaps even beyond our realm’s control.”

Luke: (clutching his little angel staff nervously) “So... we’re all in danger?”

Mephistopheles: (snickering from the corner) “Well, that depends on what you call ‘danger.’ There’s always a way to spin these things to our favor, you know.”

Raphael: (stoically) “We need to investigate this matter thoroughly. If there’s a threat, we’ll need to handle it swiftly, for the sake of everyone’s safety.”

Thirteen: (suddenly appearing with a slight chuckle) “It’s always so serious when you guys talk like this. How about we enjoy the chaos a little bit?”

The group’s attention is drawn back to Diavolo, who remains focused despite the tension.

Diavolo: “We’ve heard your concerns. But I must ask, how does this all relate to the Infernal Gala? If these disturbances continue, it could be catastrophic.”

Lucifer: “The Gala is already under heavy scrutiny. If the realm’s stability is at risk, Diavolo, this could be a catastrophic blow to the reputation of the Devildom.”

Asmodeus: “Oh, I can’t imagine the disaster. The Gala’s atmosphere would be ruined if the magical energies continue to fluctuate like this. People will notice, and chaos would break out if they suspect anything is wrong.”

Beelzebub: (his voice low and serious) “If things continue like this, there’s a real danger of even the food and drinks being affected. Imagine the mess if everything starts malfunctioning at the event.”

Lucifer: “Exactly. And with all the high-profile guests we’re expecting… We must act swiftly.”

Diavolo stands up, his usual warmth replaced by a rare intensity.

Diavolo: “For now, I ask all of you to stay vigilant. If you notice anything unusual—anything at all—report it immediately. The Gala must go off without a hitch, for the sake of maintaining peace and stability. But we must also prepare for the possibility that something more sinister is at play.”

Barbatos: (calmly) “We will continue investigating, but please, if you feel anything strange—if there’s any oddity you experience—don’t hesitate to tell us. The more information we have, the better.”

Lucifer: (looking directly at you) “You, especially. I’m sure you’ve felt it, too. These disturbances seem… connected to you.”

The room falls silent again as all eyes shift toward you. You feel a weight settling on your shoulders, the pressure building.

Diavolo: (smiling reassuringly) “You’ve done well so far. But now, we must prepare for whatever comes next. The Gala is crucial, but our first priority must be understanding the root cause of these events. If there’s a connection between you and this instability… we’ll need to address it quickly.”

As you nod in response, a sense of foreboding fills the air. The once-bustling preparations for the Gala seem like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the uncertainty surrounding the disruptions.

A talk with Solomon

After the emergency meeting, you wander through the halls of the House of Lamentation, the weight of the situation pressing on you. The magical disturbances, the instability in the Devildom... you feel like you're on the edge of something bigger, but you can't quite grasp it.

A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

Solomon: "You're still awake, huh? I figured you might be here."

You turn and see Solomon leaning against the doorframe, his usual playful expression replaced by one of concern. He steps into the hallway, his gaze never leaving you.

You: “I don’t understand any of this… It feels like everything’s connected, but I don’t know how or why.”

Solomon walks up to you, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He looks at you with a knowing look, as though he’s been waiting for this conversation.

Solomon: “I can see why you’re confused. The fluctuations... the disruptions in the ley lines, they’re not random. They’re a result of your presence here.”

You: (frowning) “My presence?”

Solomon: (nodding) “It’s complicated. There’s something about your connection to the brothers, your dual pacts, that’s causing the instability. It’s as if the power between you and them is... too much for the realms to handle.”

You feel a jolt of realization. The dual pacts. You hadn’t thought about the significance of them, but it makes sense now. Solomon's words seem to echo in your mind, each one a small revelation.

You: “So... you think the dual pacts are the reason this is happening?”

Solomon hesitates for a moment, then nods, his eyes serious.

Solomon: “I’m beginning to suspect that’s the case. The way your power interacts with theirs... it’s creating more energy than the ley lines can accommodate. It’s like a pressure building up, and when too much energy is focused in one place, the balance of the realms starts to break down.”

You swallow, trying to process it all. Your mind races through everything you’ve experienced—the strange pull of the pact mark, the disruptions, the growing tension. It all leads back to the pacts.

You: “But why now? Why is this only happening now?”

Solomon: (with a sigh) “It didn't start now. Actually it's been going on for a while now. Remember how the moon was getting progressively closer and closer a few months ago? I suspect that's also due to your magic. But for all I know the dual pacts were never meant to be this powerful. They’re an anomaly.”

You: “So, everything that’s happening... it’s my fault?”

Solomon: (softly) “Not your fault. But your presence, your bond with the brothers—it’s a key factor. I should’ve been more cautious. I knew the pacts were risky, but I didn’t expect something like this would happen.”

You feel your heart race as you try to understand the magnitude of what Solomon is telling you. The chaos, the disruptions... you feel like you’re at the center of it all, and it’s terrifying.

You: “How do we fix this?”

Solomon takes a step closer, his gaze softening. His hand gently rests on your shoulder, and you feel a comforting warmth from his touch.

Solomon: “We’ll figure it out. Together. The brothers... they’re linked to this too, and we’ll need their help. But we can’t do it alone. The dual pacts are too unpredictable.”

For a moment, you both stand in silence, the weight of his words settling in. The chaos, the stakes... it feels like everything is changing too fast. Yet, with Solomon’s presence, there’s a sense of calm. You find comfort in his understanding.

You: “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Solomon smiles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter, though he doesn't say anything for a moment. He simply pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close, offering a silent promise.

Solomon: “You’ll never have to find out.”

You lean into his chest, the tension in your body slowly melting away. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, and for the briefest moment, the world outside feels a little more bearable.

Solomon: “We’ll fix this. We’ll make sure the Gala goes off without a hitch, and we’ll find the cause of all this. But until then... just know that I’m here.”

You look up at him, your voice quiet but firm.

You: “Thank you, Solomon. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I’m... not alone in this anymore.”

Solomon’s smile deepens, and he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

Solomon: “You’re never alone, MC. Not with me by your side.”

The Pact’s Secret Emerges

Later that evening, while the brothers are asleep, you are drawn to the library by an inexplicable force. You find an old book glowing faintly on the shelf and open it. The pages are filled with ancient symbols you can’t understand. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupts you.

Barbatos: (appearing silently behind you) “Curious, isn’t it? That book is one of the oldest records in the castle. It documents the nature of pacts and their potential… consequences.”

You jump in surprise, quickly closing the book.

You: “Barbatos! You scared me. I didn’t mean to—”

Barbatos: (smiling slightly) “You needn’t apologize. It’s no coincidence that you were drawn to this book.”

Barbatos steps closer, his gaze calm but piercing.

Barbatos: “Tell me, since your return from the past, have you noticed anything… unusual? A change in your magic, perhaps? Or a resonance with the brothers’ powers?”

You stiffen.

You: “What do you mean by ‘return from the past’? How do you know about that?”

Barbatos: (tilting his head slightly) “I am the steward of time. There are few events that escape my notice.”

Your eyes widen. You clutch the book tightly, unsure of how to respond.

You: “I… I haven’t told anyone except Solomon. How much do you know?”

Barbatos: “Enough to understand that your journey was no mere coincidence. It was necessary, though its ripple effects are only now beginning to manifest.”

You: “Ripple effects…? Are you saying all of this—the disturbances in the Devildom—are my fault?”

Barbatos: (softly) “Fault is a strong word. Responsibility, perhaps. But do not misunderstand—your presence here is essential. You hold the key to stabilizing the realm.”

Barbatos’ gaze sharpens as he steps closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper.

Barbatos: “However, I must warn you: secrets have a way of surfacing when the time is right. The truth will not remain hidden forever—not from the brothers, nor from yourself.”

He gestures toward the glowing book.

Barbatos: “Keep this between us for now. But be vigilant. The bonds you share with the brothers are deeper and more intricate than even you realize.”

After the encounter, Barbatos is in his room, standing over a magical map of the Devildom. Glowing lines represent the ley lines, which are flickering and unstable. He traces his fingers over the map, frowning as he notices a disturbing pattern.

Barbatos: (to himself) “The fluctuations are growing stronger, converging toward a single point. If this trajectory continues…”

He pauses, his expression darkening.

Barbatos: “…even the combined power of the brothers may not be enough to stop what’s coming.”

The map reveals the convergence point glowing ominously—a location deep within the Devildom that remains unidentified.

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Stars in Her Eyes, Part 2

Part 1 here

*reads old decrepit spell book* “if you write the trauma in the fic, maybe it will fix it in post” hmm yes of course of course.

More of whatever the hell this is turning out to be. I looooove Price and I waaaaaannnttt him to fix me and you and all of us together. The worms in my brain won’t leave until it happens!

—

“Well, you’re cleared for field duty.”

“Hooray.” A listless response.

A huff from the nurse. As she cleaned up, she paused. “I know I’m generally pissing in the wind when I say this, but maybe a woman will believe me this time. Take care of… whatever’s on your mind. The head trauma, the noise, the explosions, it wears you down. You don’t need old demons eating away at what’s left.”

As you got up from the chair you paused. “What do you mean? I’m fine, I’m clear, right?”

“The, wait, shit hold on maybe I’m wrong. You’re the one with the concussion, reports of hallucinations in the field.” She said, flipping through your chart. “Yeah, reported by your captain. May want to ask him about it before you—“ A click of the door closing. “—go back out there. I don’t know why I thought this would go any different.” She muttered to herself, getting ready for the next patient.

—

You thought that was a dream. You were SURE that was a dream. Shit shit shit. No fucking wonder they came to see you so often. Gaz brought flowers from all of them. Soap brought cookies and his loud mouth. Ghost brought complaints from the nurses, saying he “lingered too much” and “wanted reports that didn’t belong to him”. Price however brought nothing. Radio silence there.

You made it back to barracks a little before dinner. A shower and refresh from everything. Sneaking into the shared break room, angling to see if anyone was mad, worried, feeling… wrong about you. You’ll fix it. The last thing you wanted was them thinking you weren’t anything less than capable. Surely you weren’t perfect after this. But capable. That was achievable.

“Oi, look who’s back amongst the livin’!” Soap jumped up first and came to check you out. As rough and tumble as he was, he put the breaks on, opting for grabbing you by the shoulders instead of picking you up. “Thought we scrambled you somethin’ fierce this time.” He said, grabbing your chin and giving you a once over.

Huffing, you slapped arms away and composed yourself. You did offer a smile as you smoothed out your shirt. “Morphine cures all wounds, cognitive and otherwise.”

“So I heard.” Gaz’s voice behind you, alongside Ghost as they entered. His smile could stop traffic you thought to yourself. “Thanks for the flowers.” You said quietly. “Anytime.” He replied, gently rubbing a thumb across your knuckles.

Ghost took a big, typical stoic stance against the counter, arms crossed. Eyes big and soft for you. Oh. He’s worried? That never happens, you thought, a needle of panic through your chest. A big, warm hand on your shoulder. “Price wants you in his office when you can. Glad you’re back.” The tail end was more of a rumble than words.

The panic bloomed as three sets of eyes stayed on you. Too much, you thought. Too much care, too much consideration. You were the one who was supposed to worry, not them. You fussed with your nails, looking down. “Thanks for the help, guys. I’m, I’m sorry.”

“We’re a team, it’s what we do. Now go, he’s waiting.” Ghost demanded.

—

You shook your ankle absentmindedly. Sitting on the couch in his office. The same sick feeling in your throat and nerves as the principals office. He waved you in, cigar in hand, on a phone call with papers and documents strewn around. Life didn’t stop for him, you thought. You took to staring at the back of a framed photo, disassociating about who could be on the other side, listening to the drone of his voice. A loved one? A sibling? No, he never talked about brothers or sisters. It’s warm in here. Smells like him. Maybe you would too when you left. Maybe he—

“Sergeant.”

A gasp left your chest as your eyes refocused. Just silence, now. A cigar now crushed in the ashtray, the last hurrah of smoke and scent and spice wafted in the air. Relatable, you thought.

You cleared your throat. “You wanted to see me, sir.”

His eyes roamed over you. Again. And again. Like he was lost in his own thoughts. “You back with us?” He finally grunted.

“More or less.”

He stood up, a little too quickly. Made your heart beat a little too loudly in your ears. Made you feel like you were in the dark room again. The fear and the unknown smothering everything. “I’m sorry about the mission, it was my fault, I wasn’t there, I wasn’t—“

A raised hand. The rambling died in your throat as he made his way over to you. Two bourbons poured, one placed in your hands. A seat taken next to you. The crystal tumbler cool in your hand. A gift for his 10th year in the SAS. Back to the silence.

You two had always navigated the silence together. Normally it was more comforting than this. A quiet nod of understanding in a debrief. A roll of the eyes in a meeting. Notifying that there were enemies in the area on missions. He always knew you better than you knew yourself it seemed. That’s why he was the captain. He did this for everyone. Didn’t he?

The hassle of talking about it, this, whatever this was, never reared its head. Rules, optics, whatever the excuse was. But he knew. What you were. What he was. A lit candle in your dark room. One you held with both hands when the dark was too much. Whispering and praying it would stay this time. A prayer to a deaf god, you thought.

Maybe not so deaf after all. He swirled his glass in his hands, staring straight ahead. “I didn’t throw you away. I need you to know that. More were coming, I needed you elsewhere.”

A grip in your chest. A swallow of your drink. “I know. I was distracted on the mission, I know that, but I had it handled, I should have been there to have your back.” You rushed out.

You feel a hand in your hairline, and for a moment, you’re back in that room. Half a room. Humming, praying to your deaf God. “I’m sorry about your head.” He rumbled out. “Does it still hurt?”

“Not as much as you leaving.”

A broken sound comes from him as you close your eyes and finish your drink.

A flurry of motion. Your glass taken from your hand, his arms bringing you in, fighting, grunting, till stillness as he pins you on your back, holding your cheek in his palm. It’s been too long since he’s seen your stars.

“Tell me about the song.”

“No.”

“It can be an order if you want.”

“No.”

“… please.” His resolve breaks and you see desperation in his face. “Jesus, let me fucking take care of you like you deserve, tell me about the bloody song.”

“It was someone else’s mom.” You say, returning his gaze, tears flowing freely now. “You read my fucking report. Home was shit. So were the parents. It was another girl, she, she hurt herself playing. Her mom came over and sang the song to her. If, if I hurt myself, I just got another be—“ a hiccup shakes your chest. “I sing it to myself since… no one did it for me.”

Price expected something like this, but his heartbreak took him by surprise. The tear that rolled off of his nose onto your face broke the spell, his hands now wiping away the tears and the pain. And for the first time, you let him. You let him see it all. His candle now a fire in your dark room. With any luck he’ll burn it all fucking down, you hope.

[sequinsmile-x]

Sommelier

Jack is sick, and Aaron can't get out of work, so Emily volunteers to go pick him up from school.

In which Aaron and Emily are the last ones to accept they are the the perfect pairing.

-x-

Hi besties,

The world is particularly scary and hard to live in at the moment, so here is some Emily and Jack fluff mixed in with chaotic gossiping from the team, and some good old Hotchniss getting together.

I hope it makes you smile and distracts you from everything just for a few minutes <3

-x-

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: some brief, non graphic, mentions of throwing up

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“How long do you think they’ve been dating?” 

JJ doesn’t look up at Penelope, knowing if she gets drawn into this conversation, again, she won’t get any work done any time soon, “Pen-”

“Come on, it’s lunchtime,” Penelope says, her smile pleading as JJ finally looks up at her, “And once again Emily has gone to buy our esteemed leader his lunch.” 

JJ looks over at Emily’s empty desk and sighs, dropping her pen down to her desk as she turns to look at her friend, “She insists that they are just friends.” 

It was a conversation they had most days. Ever since Emily’s return from Paris, she and Aaron had become closer and it had sparked curiosity in everyone in the team. They both seemed happier, more themselves than either of them had been in a long time, and JJ was sure that if they weren’t together yet, if they hadn’t slipped into something more than friends, then they would soon. It felt inevitable, their feelings for each other clear for anyone who cared to look for them, and she was happy for them. She just hoped, that when the time came, they choose a week that had her name against it in the office betting pool. 

“She spends most of her weekends with Hotch and Jack,” Spencer pipes up, his cheeks reddening when they look over at him, “She keeps telling me she has plans with them when I ask about going to the movies.” 

“Are we still talking about Emily and Hotch?” Derek sighs and sits down at his desk, leaning back in his chair, “I really don’t see it.” 

Penelope scoffs, “That’s because you are wilfully blind, hot stuff,” she looks up at Aaron’s office and sighs, “They are perfect for each other.” 

Dave clears his throat as he approaches them, a cup of coffee in hand as he nods towards the glass doors, letting them know Emily is on her way back. “Incoming.” 

She hums to herself as she walks into the bullpen, a paper bag carrying lunch in one hand and a cup holder with two take-out cups in the other. She doesn’t miss how her friends immediately all pretend they weren’t talking about her, their fascination with her and Aaron’s friendship something she was very aware of. 

“Ah, Bella, you shouldn’t have.” 

She rolls her eyes at Dave and steps out of his way as he jokingly tries to take one of the cups, “We both know this isn’t for you. Get your own lunch.” 

He smiles and nods towards Aaron’s office, “You got him lunch again?” 

“Someone has to make sure he eats,” she says as she walks past him, a spring to her step Dave doesn’t think she even notices as she goes straight past her desk and up the stairs towards Aaron’s office. 

“When do you think they’ll admit something is going on there?” JJ asks, leaning back in her chair as they watch Emily walk into Aaron’s office without knocking. She holds up the bag of food and says something they can’t hear, and whatever it is drags a smile out of Aaron.

Dave sighs and sits on the edge of Emily’s desk, “I think they’ll have to admit it to themselves first.” 

___

Emily smiles as she steps into Aaron’s office, using her hip to shut the door behind her, “Do you know they’re down there talking about us again?” 

Aaron chuckles, but it sounds empty, immediately making concern flick in her gut, “At least when we have a case they’re occupied,” he smiles as she puts his coffee and sandwich on his desk, “Thank you.” 

“No worries, it’s your turn tomorrow,” she says, taking a seat on the couch in his office. She watches him carefully, sees how his eyes flick to his cell phone, his focus split between her and whatever else was worrying him, “Is everything okay?” 

He sighs, “Jack’s school called. He’s sick and I’m waiting to go see if Jess can pick him up. I can’t go because I have meetings with Strauss all afternoon,” his phone chimes and he picks it up, his eyes drifting closed as he curses under his breath, “Jess can’t get away from work either.” 

She hates how worried he looks, how she can see the doubt about his skills as a parent painted across his face. It was something he worried about all the time, as if he wasn’t the centre of Jack’s world, and she wished he’d believe her when she told him he was an amazing father.

“I don’t mind going to get him,” she offers, wanting to do something to help, “I’m on the list at the school, right?” 

He nods, “You are, but I can’t ask-”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” she says, “I’m sure my boss wouldn’t mind giving me the afternoon off. Or I could speak to Strauss for you if you’d like.”

He laughs, his real laugh this time, and she tries to ignore the spark it creates in her gut, “That might get us both fired,” he pauses and looks at her, searching for any hint at all that she was doing this out of obligation, “You’re sure you don’t mind?” 

“I love spending time with Jack, you know that,” she says, standing as she packs her sandwich back away, keen to get to Jack as soon as possible, “Let the school know I’m coming to get him and I’ll take him to yours. If he’s sick he’ll want his bed not my spare room.”

Aaron sighs, “If he’s sick, I think he’ll want to be wherever you are.” 

She smiles, her cheeks flushing at his casual reference about how much Jack loves her, and and points towards his sandwich, “Eat. We can’t have you getting sick too.” 

“Thank you,” he says, smiling softly at her, “I think we’d both be lost without you.” 

“Well, the feelings mutual,” She presses her lips together in an attempt to hide her smile, “I’ll see you at your place later?” 

He nods and fights a smile himself, the thought of going home to her and Jack warming him from the inside out, “See you later.”

___

It feels like there’s a vice around her heart, tight and unrelenting, when she sees Jack sitting in the nurse's office. He’s paler than usual, a pallour to his skin that makes her stomach turn, and he looks miserable. There’s none of the spark in his eyes that she’s used to, and even when he notices she’s there he just looks sad. 

Sometimes she was still blown away by how much she loved Jack, how he’d become so important to her. When she first met him he was her boss’s son, a little baby who had been drawn to her even then, content to sit in her lap whenever Haley brought him to the office. Now he was her best friend’s son, part of the package deal that came with the man she knew she was on the cusp of a future with. The question of if she and Aaron would take that step together had turned into when, both of them still talking around it because they were gun shy, the magnitude of what already felt like forever overwhelming at times. She was happy to take it slow, to move at whatever pace felt right, because she didn’t want to ruin this. Didn’t want to shatter what she and Aaron had been so carefully building around them because she couldn’t imagine her life without either him or Jack. 

“Emmy!” 

“Hi Jack,” she says, walking over to sit next to him on the gurney, flashing a smile at the nurse as she walks past her, “Daddy said you’re not feeling well?”

He shakes his head and sinks against her, his head on her chest as she wraps her arm around him, “I got sick.” 

“He threw up in class,” the nurse interjects, her smile kind when Emily looks up at her, “He’s got a fever so I gave him some Tylenol, you can give some more in 3 hours. Other than that he just needs plenty of fluids and rest. There’s been a bug going around and it passes in a few days.” 

“Thank you,” Emily nods and turns her attention back to Jack, “Why don’t I take you home? We can snuggle on the couch until Daddy gets home from work. Does that sound good?” She says and the little boy nods against her, his grip on her shirt tight, “Okay kiddo, let's go.” 

He falls asleep in the car and she checks on him every chance she gets, all but praying for red lights instead of cursing them like usual so she can cast a look at him in the rear view mirror or over her shoulder. She wakes him up when they get to Aaron’s apartment building, his school bag over her shoulder and her arm around him as she leads him indoors. 

“Do you want to get into bed?” 

He shakes his head and looks up at her, “You said we could snuggle on the couch.” 

She smiles and closes the front door, making sure it’s locked behind her before she leans down and kisses his head, internally wincing at the temperature of his skin.

“We can do that. Do you want to change into your pjyamas?” He shrugs and it tugs at her heart, makes her chest ache and she pushes his hair from his forehead, “You’ll feel better. When I’m sick I love to be comfy in my pjyamas.” 

“Okay,” he says, “You’ll be in here?” 

She nods and strokes his cheek, “I’ll be right here. I promise. I’ll get some blankets and pick out a movie. Maybe Finding Nemo?” 

His eyes flash with happiness, a peek of him slipping through the haze of sickness and fever, “That’s my favourite.” 

“I know,” she replies, winking at him, “Now go get changed and I’ll be right here, okay?” 

He nods and walks down the hallway, his pace slower than usual, and she watches him go. She places his school bag on the kitchen counter and pulls her phone out of her pocket, quickly typing a text and sending it to Aaron. 

At your place with the patient. He’s got a fever but perked up a little at the mention of Finding Nemo and a snuggle on the couch. 

She gets a response almost immediately even though she knows he’s in a meeting, and the thought of him sneaking a look at his phone during a meeting with the rest of the unit chiefs and  Strauss makes her smile. 

Sounds like he’s going to have a much better afternoon than me, thanks again for doing this. 

She laughs and replies, allowing herself to soak in how he made her feel for the brief moment she’s alone, not finding the need to hide it for once as she stood in the safety of his home. 

You know you don’t have to thank me. I love spending time with him. 

She slips her phone back into her pocket when she hears Jack’s door open and she smiles at him as he walks towards her, his favourite stuffed animal snuggled in his arms, “I’m ready.” 

“Okay, sweet boy,” she says, offering out her hand to him, “I think I promised some snuggles.” 

She arranges blankets around them both on the couch and he snuggles against her, his head on her chest as she rubs circles on his back. She barely pays attention to the movie she’s seen with him countless times, and instead focuses on him. The weight of him against her, the press of his forehead against her neck and his slightly too warm skin. His grip on her is tight, his hand tangled in the neckline of her shirt as if she’d disappear if he let go, and it makes the need to protect him from everything rush through her. He’d been through so much already in his short life, and if she had anything to do with it he wouldn’t go through anything else. 

She briefly wonders if he’s fallen asleep because he’s been silent for so long, but then he shifts to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed as her eyes meet his, “Are you okay, Jack?”

He nods, “Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask me anything,” she replies, pushing her fingers through his soft hair, smiling as he leans into the touch.

“Do you love my Dad?” He asks, and whatever she’d been expecting him to ask, it certainly hadn’t been that. It makes her stutter, her words caught in her chest as she chokes on a laugh and tries to come up with something to say, her mouth opening and closing like one of the cartoon fish in the movie they weren’t paying any attention to, “Because I think he loves you.”

Her breath catches in her chest and she presses her lips together, treacherous hope flooding her lungs and making it hard to breathe. Whilst she and Aaron had talked around everything, whilst they’d skirted issues and talked vaguely about the future, soft, nervous smiles on both their faces as they acted like they were teenagers in love for the first time, they’d never said it. Had never gone as far as to say what they felt about each other because it was a bell that could not be unrung, and neither one of them wanted to ring it first and spook the other. 

“What…what makes you say that, kiddo?” She asks, her curiosity winning out over everything else as she reaches out to wipe his nose with the sleeve of her shirt. 

Jack shrugs, “He smiles a lot more when you’re around. You make him happy,” he shrugs again, “I think if people make you happy it must mean you love them.” He says, and she can’t help but smile at his simple, beautiful, way of thinking about love, her cheeks aching with it as she runs her knuckles up and down his cheek, “Because you and Daddy make me happy and I love you both. And Mommy made me happy too and I love her.” 

She sucks in a breath, hoping he doesn’t notice the shake in it as she blows it back out, her chest both hollowed out and stuffed full of love she once thought she’d never get to feel, “I love you too, Jack.” 

“And you love Daddy?” 

She presses her lips together and wonders what to say, how to say it to him before she’d figured out how to say it to Aaron, but she knows honesty is the best way to move forward, that she never wanted to lie to the little boy in her arms, “Yes. I do.” 

He smiles, “So does that mean you’ll be his girlfriend?” 

Part of her wishes that Aaron was here, that she could navigate this conversation with him, but the rest of her is grateful that he isn’t, sure she would be unable to answer some of the innocent, yet unrelenting, questions from his son. 

“Maybe,” she replies, running her fingers through his hair as she asks him something before she can talk herself out of it, “Would you…what would you think if I was?” 

“I’d love it,” He smiles widely, “I keep telling Daddy he should ask you to be his girlfriend,” he says, resting his head against her chest again, “But maybe you should ask him to be your boyfriend.” 

She chuckles and kisses the top of his head before she rests her cheek against there, “Maybe I should, sweet boy.” 

___

It’s much later than he’d hoped it would be when he finally gets home. 

He sighs as he steps into his apartment, the smell of home and Emily’s famous mac and cheese in the air as he closes the door behind him. The apartment is quiet. For a long time, that would have worried him, would have made his skin itch in the spots where Foyet had stabbed him in this very apartment, his monster no longer dead and lingering in every shadow. 

This kind of quiet is different. Peaceful in a way he once thought he’d never experience here again, punctuated by Emily’s coat hanging next to Jack’s by the front door and her shoes tucked into the rack. 

He looks up when he hears a door open and smiles as Emily steps out of Jack’s room, her smile wide, “You’re home. He just fell asleep…”

She carries on talking, but he doesn’t hear any of it, his focus instead on what she’s wearing. The outfit she had on earlier is gone and replaced with a pair of his sweatpants, the bottom of them rolled up so she doesn’t trip, and an old t-shirt of his. It makes his brain backfire. His head filling with static at the sight of her in his clothes. He’d always known she was beautiful, but this was different. Domestic and soft and her. As if the mask she wore in front of everyone had been stripped away so she could show him what was underneath. It felt like a privilege, something he wasn’t sure he’d earned, and it makes his breath catch in his chest. 

“Are you okay?” She asks, furrowing her brow as she tilts her head at him, and then she looks down at herself, her eyes going wide as she remembers she’d changed, “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt needlessly, “Jack threw up on me a little and my go bag was in the car, so I got some of your clothes from the laundry basket” she smiles nervously, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “I promise I didn’t root through your closet. I can go and grab my bag now you’re home-”

“No thats…” he says, clearing his throat as he finds his voice and looks at her, “That’s okay. You look…nice.” 

He feels nothing short of stupid as he chokes on the compliment, everything he wants to say, everything he feels, stuck in his throat. He knew he loved her, he knew he wanted to be with her, but every time he got close he stopped. Frozen in place by the fear that she may not feel the same way for him as he’d doubt every vague conversation they’d ever had about the future, convinced by himself and a voice in his head that sounded a little bit too much like his father that he’d misunderstood her. That she didn’t want or love him back. 

She smiles, her lips pressed together as she tries and fails to contain it, and she looks to the ground in the hope he’ll miss the way she blushes, “Thanks.” 

“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.”

She rolls her eyes at him and playfully slaps his shoulder, “No you won’t. I’ve already thrown them in your washer anyway.”

He smiles, filing away the argument to finish it later, “I’m going to go check on him quickly.” 

She nods, “I made some mac and cheese for dinner, want me to heat some up for you?” 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, smiling widely at her before he walks down the hallway to Jack’s room. He’s quiet as he walks in and smiles at the sight of his son curled up in bed, his favourite toy in his arms. He walks over and sits on the edge of his bed, the smell of Emily’s perfume lingering in the air, and he wonders how long she sat in here with Jack. 

Jack opens his eyes, “Daddy?” 

“Hey buddy,” he says, smiling as he adjusts his bedding around his shoulders, “How are you feeling?” 

He shrugs, “I threw up on Emmy. She said it was fine but I feel bad.” 

Aaron smiles, “She’s okay. I promise. Do you feel better?” 

“A bit. It’s nice spending time with Emily.” 

Aaron’s smile gets wider, “It is, isn’t it?” He leans forward and kisses his forehead, “Get some sleep, buddy. We’ll be out in the living room if you need us.” 

Jack nods, his eyes drifting closed, an edge of something to his smile that Aaron doesn’t quite understand, something he’d never seen before his son started spending more time with Emily. “Okay, Daddy. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

When he walks back out into the kitchen Emily is plating up some dinner for him, and he’s taken aback by her again, the sight of her standing in his kitchen, wearing his clothes, enough to stop him in his tracks. A taste of the future he so desperately wanted. 

“Wine?” 

He looks up at her and nods, “What kind of wine pairs best with mac and cheese?” 

“Red,” she replies, her smile getting wider when he raises his eyebrow at her quick answer, “I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the years, trust me. Red for mac and cheese, white for chicken nuggets.” 

“I do,” he says, sitting down at the kitchen counter, “I trust you.” 

They both know he isn’t just talking about her wine suggestion, and she smiles at him as she reaches for the bottle, “Red it is.” She pours them a glass each and sits next to him, “How was work for the rest of the day?” 

“Long,” he replies, as he takes a bite of his dinner, “Thank you for looking after Jack. It made…it easier knowing you were here when I couldn’t be.” 

She hides her smile behind the rim of her wine glass and takes a sip, “Like I said earlier, you don’t have to thank me. I love spending time with Jack,” she presses her lips together, “I love spending time with both of you.” 

He knows this is it, this the chance he’d let slip by countless times before, and he knows this time he can’t. That he doesn’t want to. He sucks in a breath and smiles at her as he reaches out for her hand, not missing how she sucks in a breath too the moment their skin touches.  

“We both love spending time with you.” 

Later, they’d argue playfully about who leant in first. She’d always insist it was her, and he’d insist it was him, but they knew it didn’t matter. The moment they kiss it’s everything they’ve both ever wanted and more, and she sighs into it, her hand reaching out for his cheek as she holds him in place. She rests her forehead against his when they pull back, not wanting to break the connection. He licks his lower lip to chase the taste of her, and he smiles.

“You were right.” 

She furrows her brow curiously, smiling when she presses her thumb against his lower lip and he kisses it, “About what?” 

“The red wine and the mac and cheese are a perfect pairing.” 

[russellbby]

There's always pressure || Pt.5

parings: charles leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader, arthur leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader

in which: the leclerc family mends their relationship with their youngest family member as they all enjoy the final race of f1 season..

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

taglist: @edgyficuselastica @zulema222 @samantharaytanner @heart-trees

a/n: Sorry it’s taken awhile, as of now is this the final part of this mini series, but if u guys have any ideas for me to write send them in as I have loved writing this!! <3

//

After Y/n finished celebrating with her team, saying goodbye and thanking them she started to make her way into the F1 paddock.

Many cameras turned to face the young girl, due to her being the most recent F2 champion and became she is apart of the Leclerc family.

Y/n made her way into the Ferrari hospitality, she seen her whole family there but before she could reach them she was pulled into a hug from the other Ferrari driver.

“Hey world champ!” Carlos exclaimed as the pair hugged properly before he eventually put her back down.

“Thanks Carlo!” Y/n said with a smile.

“Hey, you’ll be alright and if not you always know my drivers room is open and Rebecca will be there waiting for you” Carlos told her quietly as he seen her looking over at her family.

“Thank you but I should be okay” Y/n replied as she made her way over to her family and sat down between Jade and Alex.

“Hey chéri!” Pascale said as her daughter as she sat down.

“Hi maman” Y/n replied before looking down and fiddling with her hands, before looking back up as her brothers started to talk to her..

“Petite sœur, we shouldn’t of let what happened effect us not going to your race today. We know that you won’t be able to forgive us for that, but we accept that as we shouldn’t have done it..you made us all proud today, you made history and papa would be very proud of you if he was here..” Lorenzo said.

“We watched the podium but we know that wasn’t right and should have been there right at the beginning when the race started. We didn’t know how much pressure you were under until yesterday, how you have dealt with those comments on your own and obviously we made it worse for leaving you out. We are sorry for everything chéri” Charles added.

“I’m sorry for my comments yesterday it wasn’t fair on you. I had no right in saying anything about your performance in F2, you deserved the championship. I know you was proud of me when I drove in FP1 yesterday and I just didn’t actually realise what you have been feeling like..” Arthur told her.

“Petit ami, I’m sorry for not understanding and respecting you. You made your papa proud today and I know he would be disappointed in what we did to you this whole weekend but especially today. I’m proud of you trying to make your own name in the sport and talking a different path than Charles and Arthur. Mercedes are like a family to you and I can see how much they adore you being apart of their team. We are so sorry about everything Y/n..” Pascale said.

Y/n stayed quiet and looked at Charlotte, Alex and Jade who gave a her looks that told her just how apologetic her brothers and mother were.

Y/n got up from her seat and moving over to her mother, who opened her arms for her daughter to fall into her embrace. The three Leclerc brothers smiled at the slight of their mothers and little sister.

“Je t’aime tellement maman,” Y/n mumbled.

“Je t’aime aussi chérie, I’m so sorry for everything..” Pascale whispered.

The mother and daughter stayed in the embrace for a while before Y/n made her way to all of her brothers, from oldest to youngest.

“Je t’aime petit..” Lorenzo said.

“Don’t call me little one, Enzo! We’ve had this conversation before..” Y/n grumbled as he let out a chuckle before moving over to Charles.

“Je t’aime Charlie!” Y/n mumbled into the embrace of her second oldest brother.

“Je t’aime aussi, petite sœur” Charles replied.

“See Enzo! Learn the nicknames from Charles!” Y/n told him which made him roll his eyes with a big smile on his face.

“Come give your favourite brother a hug, sœur!” Arthur said which led to Charles and Lorenzo giving death stares as they watched their two youngest siblings hug.

“Not her favourite brother” Charles grumbled.

“You ain’t her favourite either” Lorenzo told him.

“Yes I am!” Charles argued.

“I’m her favourite! She’s the one hugging me!” Arthur said.

The three Leclerc brothers carried on arguing among themselves about who their little sister’s favourite was, while Y/n was just shaking her head but smiling at her brothers while they argue about the same thing that they argue about on the daily.

But, all that Y/n knows now is that..

The Leclerc Family are back to being a family again.

//

Y/n was standing next to her mother and Arthur in the back of the Ferrari garage, the race was coming to an end and she knew that her brother be getting on the podium for the final race of the season.

She gave a wave to the camera once she seen herself on being filmed on one of the scenes, she knew that her future in the sport would be talked about..

“-there’s Y/n Leclerc, most recent formula 2 champion in the Ferrari garage cheering on her older brother with the whole family. I wonder if we will see her join the grid next year!” Crofty said as the cameras were panned on the young girl and her family.

“It’s really interesting with her being apart of the Mercedes junior team and them having a seat open for next year, obviously been a lot of pressure on her ever since Charles has been in the sport and people have questioned why she didn’t choose to join Ferrari to be with Charles and Arthur as well” Martin added.

“I think it’s good to see that she’s trying to create a name for herself and choose a different path, I believe her and Mercedes is going to become something special” Jenson said.

//

Y/n clapped along with the Ferrari team as their two drivers finished P2-P3 for the final race. Sadly it wasn’t enough for the Constructions Championship, which she knew her older brother would be annoyed about.

“C’mon, let’s get to the podium!” Arthur told her. Y/n made her way way towards the podium with her family, she watched the top 3 getting out the cars before going to their crew.

“Hey, congrats champion!” Y/n called over to Lando as the Mclaren driver walked over and the pair did a fist bump.

“Hey look at you, F2 champ!” Lando added as Y/n smiled.

“Drinks on us tonight?” Y/n joked as Lando laughed before he left to greet his family just as Charles made his over.

Everyone took in turns hugging Charles before he got to Y/n, who he hugged tightly and lifting her up slightly which made her giggle and the rest of the family smiled at the pair.

“Proud of you” Y/n whispered to her older brother which made him smile.

“I’m more proud of you,” Charles added before a certain someone interrupted them by calling Y/n’s name.

“Little Leclerc! Congrats F2 Champ!” Max said as he hugged Y/n.

“Thanks Max, congrats to you too. I haven’t seen you since you became a 4-time world champion” Y/n told him.

“Thanks Y/n, going to be fun racing against you when you get up here” Max added which made her smile.

“It definitely will be fun, I can only dream” Y/n replied.

A few moments later, Charles was called for his interview before his whole family cheered when he stood on the podium. Y/n had a big smile on her face watching her older brother.

She glanced over and see Toto looking at her with Lewis by his side and they gave her a certain look…

//

y/n.leclerc

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 873,927 others

y/n.leclerc: 2024 season, over and out!

Charlie, congrats this season! The win in Monaco will always be a very very special moment for you and the whole family, you’ve had ups and downs this season but you’ll always be someone who I look up to. Congrats this season, next year is going to special❤️

Lewis, thank you for everything. Ever since I joined the Mercedes junior team you were always looked out for me, taught me a lot, always on my side and overall become a mentor to me. I’m going to miss you the garage and it’s going to be strange not seeing you there, however you can’t get away from me even in the Ferrari garage as you are becoming my brother’s teammate (please beat his arse). Merci Lewis and welcome to the Ferrari family!!

Carlo!! Going to be strange not seeing you and my brother looking in love with each other any more in the garage, moving on quickly :). Thanks for always being there and cheering me up when I needed it, you’ve become like brother to me and your apart of the family now. You deserve better next year, however I will be there cheering you now, love u broo!!

tagged: lewishamilton carlossainz55 charles_leclerc

view all 22,788 comments

username Awhhh Y/n this is so sweet!!🥹

username I love that you added the 3rd & 6th pics!!

username I loved seeing Lewis & Y/n interactions in thr Merc garage, going to miss them.

username Carlo😭

lewishamilton Thanks kiddo, your time to shine now❤️

y/n.leclerc ❤️❤️

username Y/n to Merc 2025?!👀👀

username Lewis will never get away from Y/n, she’s just going to go to the Ferrari garage just to annoy him😂

username Y/n is apart of both Mercedes and Ferrari family, it’s Lewis’s turn now :)

mercedesamgf1 We aren’t going to lose you, right…? :(

scuderiaferrari She’s ours!

mercedesamgf1 Y/n is our kiddo!!🖤

scuderiaferrari Her family + Lewis in our garage, she’s be here all the time!😌

mercedesamgf1 no.

username Y/n’s got two teams fighting for her😭😭

username Like we said, she’s apart of both families :)

username Two of the biggest teams fighting over her, yeah that’s our Y/n💗

username I wonder what’s going to happen next year..

charles_leclerc Thanks petite sœur❤️ but why do you what my new teammate to beat me?

y/n.leclerc Because hat new teammate is going to be Lewis Hamilton?!?!?!

username You know what, valid point Y/n🤣

username Love seeing Charles and Y/n back to their normal interactions!!

carlossainz55 Thanks kiddo, keep shining and soon enough we’ll be racing against each other❤️

y/n.leclerc ❤️❤️

username This post is just🥹

username I love Y/n & Lewis, I love Y/n & Carlos, I’m going to miss this so much!!

username Y/n needs that Merc seat!!

username The way she looked at Lewis & Toto👀

username Y/n Leclerc to Mercedes in 2025 >>

[desideriumwriter]

thinking about George and ditzy reader in the courtyard during a free period and while he’s ranting away about quidditch or something that annoyed him she’s just like smiling and making a flower crown that she gives him when he’s all ranted out😞😞sorry I just love this pairing so bad

this is such a cute idea don't apologize!! <3

wc: 0.5k

“And that’s the whole point. I told Oliver that maybe- hm?” George paused his ramble once a purple grape was brought up to his lips.

“Grape?” You asked, already eating one yourself.

“Thanks.” He was going to take it from you but you put the fruit in his mouth by yourself instead, he chewed on one side of his mouth as he talked on the other. “Anyways, I told him that maybe if he decided to ask if we could get new beaters bats, then they would stop breaking mid practice or game.”

You shoved another grape in his mouth, accidentally making him flinch, he thanked you again and continued on.

“I mean, we can’t keep on fixing them with spells forever. There’s still chips of wood missing. I’m sure Madam Hooch or Dumbledore wouldn’t mind pitching in for us.” He ended his rant with a sigh. You put your now empty tupperware back in your bag.

The yellow dandelions next to your bag caught your eye, the weed problem had been getting quite bad in the courtyard. You plucked a good amount before sitting back up.

George started up his ranting again.

“I think Oliver just takes everything too seriously. I mean- Quidditch is serious. I take it seriously. But for Merlin’s sake he needs to let loose sometimes. I swear his day is just eat, class, quidditch, sleep, repeat…”

You splayed the dandelions out on your lap, grabbing a few and weaving them together. Creating a chain while you nodded and glanced at George and the top of his head.

His words were going out one ear and the other to be honest, you were too focused on tying the stems together. You could’ve used magic to intertwine the flowers, but that felt like cheating.

“…then there’s constantly the rookies on the Ravenclaw team who don’t want to follow the rules. It’s really the entirety of the Slytherin team. They try to act like they don’t know what they’re doing so they don’t get a foul. You’re telling me that those two new Ravenclaw chasers didn’t know they just did a body blow? That they accidentally slammed into one on our team? At the same time? Prats.” He scoffed, looking down at his hands and looking at a callus on his palm. He was actually done ranting now. He blew all his steam off, yet he was still frustrated.

You took that moment of quiet to carefully place the dandelion crown onto his head. He looked up with creased brows, acting as if he rolled his eyes up far enough he could see what was on his head.

“It's a dandelion crown.” You stated, holding up one of the unused flowers in your hand. His eyes narrowed for a moment, he was confused by your random gesture. When was he not?

“Do I look nice with it on?” He fixed his posture, sitting up from his hunched over position.

“It’s lopsided, but the yellow goes well with your hair. It looks pretty.”

“You look pretty. Thank you.” George tried copying the way you thank him, by kissing his cheek. He punctuated his sentence with a small kiss to the side of your face. You smiled, hoping that looking down at your hands in your lap would hide the blush forming on your face.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

"You're Okay"

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: After Aaron and his agent are saved from captivity, she grapples with returning to her regular life with her husband when the only person she wants to be around is Aaron.

Warning: no use of y/n, traumatized!reader, angst, heavily implied SA, kidnapping, probably psychological torture, panic attacks, emotional infidelity,

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist

As the plane fell still and the engines died down, a new sound emerged. Cheering. I couldn’t see outside thanks to all the windows being shut per my request but that didn't prevent the fact that I was being forced into a pap walk by the Director of the FBI. I looked down at my lap finding shaking fingers that were only stilled by clasping my hands together.

I could feel the rest of my team look at me, pitying me, afraid to upset me. I tried to force myself up off my seat but I just couldn’t. The idea of being put on display, of being heralded as strong, made me sick.

I only looked up from my lap when a figure appeared by my side. Looking up, I found JJ giving me that pitying look I knew would linger on everyone else’s face out there. “I know you don’t want to but we have to go out.”

I nodded, convinced if I opened my mouth I’d puke. With trembling hands I grasped the armrests beside me, using them to stand up. I looked at my entire team for the first time since I was rescued finding them looking at me with those sad looks in their eyes. All of them except my boss, Aaron, whose expression held stern reassurance as he nodded at me. I returned it, stepping into the aisle and towards the now opened plane door.

I didn’t remember the shaky steps until I was suddenly confronted by blinding light as I emerged outside onto the platform of the air stair. I couldn’t tell if I had caused it or if it was just being outside but I swear the cheers grew louder. But they didn’t make me feel good, rather, I felt like a fraud undeserving of their applause.

The cheers grew somehow louder as my fellow prisoner emerged onto the platform with me. My inclination to pass out was subsided my Aaron Hotchner’s mere presence. He had been my rock, my comfort, my everything when we had been held by a group of unsubs.

Still, I could not find it in me to make my way down the steps until I felt the lightest trace of his comforting fingers on my arm. A little bit more grounded and taking his cue, I hesitantly moved one step forward, pausing just before the first stair. Hotch must have noticed my hesitant unsteadiness because his arm slotted under mine as he urged me forward.

The closer and closer we got to the ground the more I felt like I was going to pass out but Hotch’s grasp kept me anchored until we finally reached the bottom. His grasp lingered as I was first greeted by the Director of the FBI. Truthfully I never wanted him to let go but he did. After shaking the director’s hand he ceased contact with me as the next person I was greeted with was my husband.

I had hardly even met his gaze before he was slamming into me, pulling me into his embrace. As he clutched me I wanted nothing more than to be let go. My tenure in the hands of now dead men flashed in my mind as I tried not to give away my panic. I wanted to break down sobbing and beg him to let me go but I just kept repeating a mantra in my head I had prepared. This is James. James is your husband. He won’t hurt you. I could hear the cameras flashing, capturing what was supposed to be the new V-J Day in Times Square photo. I wasn’t sure what exactly they were capturing but the small part of me that wrote that mantra for these moments hoped I didn’t look too panicked.

I was only saved from my oncoming panic attack by Aaron’s voice. “James,” he greeted my husband who fortunately let go.

“Aaron,” he returned. Whilst his crushing grip on me was released, he maintained a hand on my back that may as well have been a collar. He went to go shake his hand but was interrupted by a cry from behind.

“Daddy!” came the sweet voice of Jack as he dashed from the larger crowd before us.

Aaron’s attention was immediately diverted from my husband to his son as he stooped down. Jack launched himself into his father’s arms as Aaron stood, lifting him from the ground and holding him tight, as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Which he no doubt was. When Aaron wasn’t comforting me, I was comforting him about his son.

The cameras flashed wildly and I knew that they would be the featured photo. Seeing Aaron hold his son was to see a true expression of love, one that couldn’t be captured with James and I.

By now the rest of the team had descended onto solid ground. I should have felt comforted by their presence like I was when it was just us on the plane. But I couldn’t shake the feeling I got from James’ icy grip, keeping me firmly cemented in his presence.

After a moment of waving to the cameras, he finally began steering us to one of the awaiting SUVs parked on the tarmac. But as we walked past the crowd, I could hear the reporter speaking to the camera positioned to capture us as well.

“And there you have it. After nearly a month of being held captive by a group of serial kidnappers and murderers, the two FBI agents are reunited with their families. One can only imagine the horrors…”

I was never more grateful for a car door to shut then in that moment. The idea of being made to relive it through everyone’s speculation made me want to be swallowed up into the earth. Never to be heard from or thought of or speculated about again.

As James slid into his seat on the other side of the car, intertwining his fingers with mine, I somehow never felt more alone. Like a part of me was missing. I knew exactly where that part was: in another SUV with his son and former sister-in-law, probably feeling like he was whole again.

~

Looking away from the Director, Aaron found his subordinate, his confidant, the woman who, for a moment there, was his everything in captivity. But she was in the arms of her husband, her high school sweetheart, who she had been through nearly everything with.

He hated that he wanted nothing more than to rip them apart from one another. After everything that had happened, some selfish part of him thought that he might be the only man she felt comfortable being touched by. He knew it was selfish, but the idea of just abandoning their closeness from them was unbearable to him. It was like some twisted version of Stockholm syndrome, where he needed his fellow prisoner to survive.

“James,” the name left his mouth before he could think. The bureaucrat looked at him, unwrapping from his wife and extending a hand to shake. Aaron moved to return it when a voice he missed more than anything emerged from the crowd.

“Daddy!” his son’s voice cut through the sounds of the tarmac.

Immediately pulling his attention from the man in front of him, he found his son’s blond hair glinting in the son as he ran towards him. The suit that the Director no doubt orchestrated for him to wear looked ridiculous flapping in the wind as he ran. But Aaron didn’t care, no one cared as they observed father and son reunite, each of them only having each other.

As his son fell into his arms, the ache and longing Aaron had previously felt disappeared as he held his son for the first time in over a month. He could hear the cameras flashing and the applause from the crowd but he couldn’t have cared less. He had his son back and that’s all that mattered.

A soft hand on his back reminded him of where he was. Looking up from Jack, he found Jessica looking at him with a smile, tears of joy pricking her eyes. “Welcome home.”

Still holding his son, Aaron nodded. “Thank you. For everything.” He truly could not thank her enough. He turned to find the woman he had spent the last month protecting, intent to bring her into his own reunion but she was gone, and with her disappearance went his sense of wholeness. Looking further down the tarmac, he found her already in front of an SUV, her husband’s arm around her as he opened the door, letting her in before cutting her off from the rest of the world. Unwilling to show or feel his disappointment, he just held Jack tighter, heading to his own awaiting SUV.

As they approached the vehicle, he could hear the words of a reporter. “While the FBI has yet to speak in detail about what occurred, it is widely speculated that Agent Shaw was assaulted in captivity. Her husband, James Shaw, is expected-”

The reporter’s voice was silenced by the car door shutting, much to Aaron’s relief. Looking across the front seats of the car, through the windshield he could see the car that held his agent and her husband. No doubt she was relieved to be with him again, to feel safe and be able to trust another man again. He felt… ungrateful and dirty longing for someone when he had been reunited with the person he cherished most in the world. All of his attention should be on his son and not the married woman in the car in front of him.

~

“We’re home,” James said softly as he opened the door to our home. Walking in should have been a breath of fresh air. I should have finally been able to relax but I couldn’t. I couldn’t decide why but somehow this place felt haunted.

Turning, I looked at James’ hopeful face. I could tell he had sensed something was off during the very tense drive. And that all his hopes were riding on me going back to normal once we got home. I forced a smile, walking further into the house.

Walking through the foyer and past the living room I expected to find it a mess of scattered things and discarded plates but it was actually quite tidy. Continuing to the kitchen I expected at least the sink to overflowing but it wasn’t. Pausing in the room, my eyes fell to the backyard. In the time I had been away the color of autumn was gone. Before I left the leaves were still green, with just a few beginning to yellow. But now, they all laid in a dead brown mess on the grass, leaving bare branches, only illuminated by the cold white lights coming from our back porch.

As I heard footsteps enter behind me, I instinctively turned, pressing my back into the counter. As James came into view, I expected relief to come but it never did. It’s just James. James is your husband. He won’t hurt you, played in my mind.

He smiled as he looked at me, holding his arms wide, gesturing to the kitchen. “See?” he began proudly. “You always say I can never keep the house clean. But look!”

I forced a smile, trying to look pleased. I studied behavior extensively, I was a good actress for it. I knew I should observe all of his “hard work” like an adoring wife, it’s what he was waiting for. But I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him, waiting for any sign that he would advance. No, I reprimanded myself. This is James. James is your husband. He won’t hurt you. “It’s great,” was all I managed to muster.

With an even wider grin, he approached me. It took all of my self control to not stiffen further as he gently rested his hands on my hips, slotting his face against mine so our noses brushed, our lips hardly a centimeter apart. This is James. James is your husband. He won’t hurt you.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed, finally connecting our lips.

At the somewhat forced intimacy I wanted to cry. All of my self defense instincts kicked in but I pushed them down, willing myself to not push him away. But after a moment or so of feeling my stiff lack of reciprocity, he pulled away, a concerned furrow in his brow.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired. I think I want to go to bed,” I claimed, trying to subtly slip out from in between him and the counter, trying to escape the feeling of being trapped.

I could see the flash of hurt cross his face as he nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be up soon.” I just nodded, quickly heading upstairs, desperate to escape his disappointment.

As I entered our bedroom I immediately went to the ensuite bathroom. Splashing cold water on my face in an attempt to return myself to earth, I immediately regretted it as I looked in the mirror. The water had removed the cheap makeup the bureau had provided for me, removing the coverage and the layer of protection it had provided me. Now, I stared at the dark circles, bruised cheekbones, and bruised neck that seemed to accentuate the hollow look in my eye.

I found myself just staring at the image in front of me, trying to make sense of it for god knows how long when i was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Darling? Are you okay?” James’ concerned voice reverberated through the door.

“I’m fine,” I called. “Be out in a minute.” I tried to calm myself down for another several moments before deciding that it would only cause unnecessary questions if I showed him the marks on me. After a quick application of my makeup, careful to make it look as if I weren’t wearing anything, I emerged from the bathroom.

I paused in the doorway, finding James sat on the bed, stripped down to only his boxers. He turned his gaze from the tv, sending me a soft smile. I just halted seeing himself in his undressed state. “Erm, bathroom���s yours if you want it,” I said, heading over to my dresser to find more comfortable clothes for bed.

“I’m alright,” he said.

I just nodded, quickly grabbing the first set of clothing I could find. Clutching them, I moved to head back into the bathroom but was interrupted by James’ soft laugh. It was not mocking or even all that humorous, more so just a soft release of tension. “Where are you going? You can change in front of me.”

A weight was added to my heart as I looked between him and the clothes. “I-I know. I just…” the words died on my tongue as I found myself at a loss for an explanation without telling him what was bothering me. That I didn’t want him to see the scratches and bruises that littered my body. That I didn’t want him or any other man to look at my body ever again. That the only person I could feel remotely comfortable naked with was my boss.

So I just disappeared into the bathroom, no doubt leaving him with more disappointment and questions. I didn’t even bother looking at myself in the mirror this time, knowing I’d burst into tears looking at the marks on my body, ruining the makeup I had just put on.

As I exited the bathroom, I immediately got under the covers and turned my bedside lamp off, hardly even looking at my husband in the process. I didn’t hear a sigh behind me but I could practically sense it as he turned off the light and the tv as well, slumping under the covers.

“I love you,” came his soft voice, turned away from me despite my knowing that he wanted to face me.

“I love you too,” I returned, although I doubt my voice was convincing.

~

We were trapped in a motherfucking metal box of a room. No windows, no weaknesses, no way out. The only remote chance of freedom was a metal reinforced door that looked more like the hatch to a bank safe than a door.

Looking down at my feet, I found Aaron’s loafer enclosed toes a mere inch from mine. My gaze drifted up, finding my boss’ gaze as he stared contemplatively at the ground.

We had been sitting in silence for the better part of an hour, having already exhausted out strategies for escape. “Listen,” he hesitantly broke the silence. “You and I both know the profile. Their female victims were…” the words died in his throat, unwilling to even utter the possibility of that kind of an assault on his subordinate.

“I know,” I interrupted, my head hitting the wall. “I know.”

“I’m gonna protect you as best as I can,” he swore, moving from his wall to sit next to me.

I wanted to tell him no, to think of protecting himself, to tell him not to antagonize our captors while we were unarmed. But instead, I found myself crumbling. I leaned against him, tears slipping down my face as I remembered all the horrid things they did to the poor girls who had been in this room before me. His arm wrapped around me pulling me to him so I was crying into his shoulder rather than being as strong as I thought I was.

He wrapped both arms around me as if they alone could protect me from whatever would walk through that door, pulling me closer so I was practically in his lap. “No matter what happens, you’re gonna be okay,” he tried to assure me. “No matter what they do, don’t let them break you. We’ll get out of here, the team will find us.”

After who knows how long of crying, the door finally opened. Aaron let go of me in order to stand. He stood in front of me as four masked men entered the room. They didn’t say a word as three advanced. Aaron moved into a fighting position but he was no match for three of them. Two quickly subdued him as one grabbed at me. I screamed as he got his arms around me, dragging me from the corner and towards the door. “Aaron!” I heard myself scream.

“Aaron!” I cried. I blinked, finding only darkness for a moment before I managed to see outlines.

But beside me, I sensed James. He sat up with me, quickly turning on the lamp and momentarily blinding me. “It’s okay,” he was quick to assure.

As my mind caught up, I found my breath becoming more shallow and tears welling up in my eyes. As I desperately tried to suck in a sustaining breath, James tried to comfort me.

“Shh,” he hushed, his hand falling onto my shoulder. “You’re alright,” he dismissed, already turning to turn the lamp off. As he laid down again, his hand found my shoulder again as he tried to ease me down. I knew his touch was meant to be comforting but it just felt dismissive.

Reluctantly I settled down as best I could, focusing on being able to breathe. But after several moments of short breath, I did the only thing I could think of. Grabbing my phone, I headed downstairs. Already sifting through my contacts, I found what I was looking for as I slipped on my shoes.

“Hello?” came a tired voice after only the first ring.

“Hey,” I began, my voice cracking immediately as tears welled in my eyes.

“Hey,” his voice returned, sounding more alert with a touch of concern. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“No,” I admitted. “Can I come over? James is asleep.” Sobs now openly shook my voice.

“Of course,” Aaron’s voice became increasingly steadier. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over?”

“No,” I refused, already heading towards the garage. “I’ll uh, see you in fifteen.”

“Okay,” his voice came. “Be safe.”

“I will,” I agreed.

Throwing the car in reverse, I backed out of the driveway into the empty street. The entire drive to Aaron’s was a blur as I raced through the streets the best my hazy vision would let me. Until I finally pulled up to the Hotchner house, finding the porch light and living room light on. By the time I got out of the car, Aaron was already standing in the doorway on the porch waiting for me.

Without even stopping to lock the car I ran towards my boss. I didn’t care if it looked ridiculous, I threw myself into his arms to which he gladly welcomed me. Immediately sobs shook me as I broke down in his comfortable embrace.

“Let’s go inside,” he murmured softly as he led me gently. I walked with him long enough for the both of us to settle on the couch. “What happened?” he asked.

I sniffled, trying to pull myself together. “I had a dream about when we were there and…” Sobs choked me. “And James… I- he… he just doesn’t get it. He’s trying to be there for me in the way he knows how but… he doesn’t even know I’m here right now. But I have this mantra to remind me that he won’t hurt me but honestly…”

Aaron leaned closer, his eyebrow quirked. “What?” he asked.

I looked at him and for the first time since being apart from him I didn’t feel the need to pull away from another person. “The only person I feel comfortable around it you,” I confessed.

Aaron nodded, unsure of how to react. He couldn’t smile, rejoicing in another man’s loss aside, he wasn’t in a place to smile. But the knowledge that the woman in front of him only felt a sense of calm and security with him brought him a strange sense of satisfaction that he felt guilty for. So doing the only thing that seemed right to the both of him, he just wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he assured. “I’m here for you

Masterlist

A/N This was kind of an abstract idea that popped into my head so if it was shit I'm sorry!

[blackberry-sage-tea]

Something I have not really seen anyone else talking about is how Veilguard vastly and very noticeably overinflates its quest count.

Like, in most games, you would consider something labeled a "quest" to have a beginning, middle, and end, right? "Here is the problem, go solve it with some gameplay, here's the outcome". They don't have to all be long but it's usually like, a complete narrative thread. Sometimes you'll get followup quests, but those are again going to have their own beginning, middle, and end. They will feel complete. You don't label something as a quest unless it has at least a little bit of substance to it.

Veilguard...has a different design philosophy.

Buying presents for your companions where they will give a one word response in thanks? Those are quests. There's a quest where you visit the Black Emporium--that's it. That's all you do, you go to a location. Need to have a single conversation with your companion to get information about something? How about we make that a quest! Have to get some crucial info about characters that are featuring in a companion's questline? We'll make that cutscene an entire quest by itself rather than putting it in one of the quests it's relevant to. Have to put together another team meeting to discuss your quarterly budget? Quest! Need to talk to Solas after a main story moment? Those are usually labeled as their own quests.

Early on you go to Arlathan to investigate the ritual site to verify Solas' claims about the gods escaping, and after a brief conversation with the Veil Jumpers there you go on to a new location to recruit Bellara. Once you get back to the Veil Jumpers you head out to D'Meta's crossing and witness what the gods have done, seeing with your own eyes the danger Solas warned you of. From there you return to the ritual site at last to find the dagger that he was using, wrapping up your main purpose in heading out in the first place. Same quest, right? Wrong! Four quests! There is no point at which one properly finishes before the other begins, but these are listed as four separate quests!

It's like some executive had a specific quest quota they wanted the developers to hit and the developers knew they'd never be able to make enough content to meet it so they just chopped up every main and companion quest piecemeal, even though this means the pacing and momentum of the game frequently comes to a complete standstill as you stop and start quests over and over. Bellara trying to talk her brother out of doing evil things for Anaris and then just walking away when it seemingly doesn't work rather than doing anything to actually stop him is solely because it has to be its own quest rather than part of her questline's finale. "Why don't we take care of X right no--" Because we need to pad out the runtime of this game. We need the characters to drag their feet on absolutely everything, we need to have the same conversations about the same things over and over again because otherwise you'll notice that this game's content could have been condensed into 40 hours instead of 80.

I'm not saying that previous Dragon Age games never had fluff quests or padding but the scale at which Veilguard does it is frankly unreal.