#this looks like the most painful kiss ever

[shaisuki]

“Caleb?”

“What is it, pipsqueak?”

“Have you ever kissed someone?”

You asked him out of the blue while munching on the snack he bought for you. Seated on the stairs at the front of the store. The wind's cold. A telltale sign of the night to come. The skies are purplish with hues of orange and red. The can of soda sweats with condensation. Leaving a imprint of it on the concrete floor.

“What about it, pipsqueak?”

Caleb brows furrow at the sudden question. You were both in high school and neither of the romance stuff were discussed except when you both watched a romance drama that aired on the evening. He didn't even know you were interested.

”No. I mean that's normal. You're popular with girls and I know you must kissed one of them right? Riiight?”

Absentmindedly crinkling a wrapper of the candy and Caleb can hear the crunch of the packaging. A amused laugh escaped Caleb's lips. Turning his body to face you and resting his jaw to his palm. His elbow leaning on his knees.

He stares at your side profile. Studying how your eyelashes flutter and the dimple surfacing on your round cheek. A small pout in your plump lips.

“I haven't kissed anyone, pipsqueak.”

“For real? Nah, you're kidding me.”

Caleb's smile grew wider when you whipped your head to see if he was really serious. Your face scrunched up while you eye him suspiciously.

It was the truth. He gets it. He was Mr. Popular among his peers and there's the endless stream of girls who tried to get on his good graces. However he can't bring himself to like the attention. Sure, it was good that he can count on them and he knows you're going to be cool about it but it feels wrong.

“I'm not interested, pipsqueak.” Caleb assures you. Patting your head in a affectionate manner like he always did. His palm hold your round cheek. Caressing the skin with his thumb and his aura gets serious all of a sudden. “What made you ask me that kind of question?”

“A classmate asked me if you have a girlfriend and then if you did the lovey-dovey stuff with a girl. I told her I don't know and....” Your eyes squint for a little bit. The gears in your head turning. “— that's why I asked you about it.” You explained.

Caleb pinched your cheek. If Caleb wants to be honest with you right now. He will say he wants to kiss you, first. His eyes landing on your lips. He fought the urge to run his thumb in your lips for he might regret what he's about to do next. It's to kiss you. Taste the sweetness of the candy in your lips and feel the softness of your lips that will linger for days to come.

Caleb wants you, needs you to be his firsts. It's the way it is most special cause he shared it with you and he knows you're inexperienced too and what's better to be each other's firsts, if you'll allow it.

“Pipsqueak, do you want to be kissed?” His voice suddenly serious. The streetlight casting a glow behind them and from the angle where you look at him. Caleb's expression grew darker. The knowledge that you're going to be kissed someone that is not him — brings a pain that he can never recover.

“Someday, Caleb. Someday.” You mutter and Caleb smiles, cause that someday is the day when he will finally get to kiss you. A real kiss. Not the indirect kisses from having to share cans of soda or tasting another one's food. You didn't even know that.

Caleb and you stayed for a bit. Watching as nightfall envelops the whole city. Contented at the peace and quiet with the conversation gone in your mind except for Caleb who burned the memory. He's contented for now.

He can be patient towards you and when the time comes, it's not only a kiss from you but the whole you, body and soul.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 19: The One Where I Perform Mis-Directed as a Three Act Comedy, Act II

“Before you started the bumpers cars act, for the record unless you’re eight years old trying to make your dolls kiss, smashing your teeth together is not an ideal approximation of romance.”

“And [Hattie’s] gaze fell to [Anthony’s], felt as if somehow it was attached to his, as if there were filaments between them hooking together every time their glances connected.”

“Maybe there had already been the faintest glimmer of this horrifying attachment even then. His first steps on a map to a very unexpected destination but somehow it still felt as if there’d been no warning at all. As if a thousand insignificant moments and incidents had quietly woven together until one day he’d turned and he’d fallen and he’d been caught by a net of those impossibly unbreakable threads which he hadn’t realized existed.”

“…[Anthony] was not a touchy-feely person… But when he and Hattie, when their characters had kissed each other into the wall, he’d almost purred against her like a damn cat.”

“It was a closed set this morning so thankfully a very minimal number of crew personnel…On the flip side, the team reserved this level of set closure, basically a skeleton crew, for only the most explicit scenes and semi-nudity.”

“But she never had to worry in the past about being more involved in the dance than she ought to be. Not once had she arranged herself in a castmate’s arms and felt as if they were doing something truly, genuinely intimate…"

“Quite clearly the issue here was her scene partner and the potential for an amped up repeat of what had happened last time. Hard nipples, damp thighs, and a heart trying to burst out of her chest, all from a fully clothed screen kiss. This time, they’d both be all but naked, writhing on a bed, gasping, grinding, sighing.”

“This mattress feels very sturdy.”

“The moment Iris bounces him into the mattress in episode 8..."

“If millions of people were going to watch her ride Anthony like a mechanical bull…”

“Stevie pointed at the ornate mirror near the bed. Her gesture a spectacular symphony of sarcasm. ‘As your pre-seduction routine appears to involve a great deal of hair flicking and smokey glances at yourself, have at it.’”

“Are you looking for something?”

“‘Falling buckets,’ Hattie said. ‘Or collapsing bedframes or beams coming loose…’”

“…when the floorboard beneath [Anthony’s] boot performed a preemptive strike. The wood tilted inwards, just enough to throw off his footing…and his full body weight surged forward. She could see later in hindsight that he had attempted to both shield her head and not crush her underneath him…"

“Anthony landed on his knees with a painful grunt but had barely hit the floor before he was at her side, touching the back of her head and her shaking shoulders. She just had time to register a little too much cool air on the backs of her thighs, then he was smoothing her skirts down protecting what remained of her dignity in an automatic gesture.”

“’Gentle, this bit,’ [Stevie] said. “Romantic, soft.”

“But in the ways that mattered, especially in the context of an intimate scene and the scripts that they all dreaded most, he’d been surprising. If she wanted to expand into the territory of actual truth, he’d been the most confusing, unsettling, and fun scene partner she’d had in four years.”

“They were still holding hands. They realized this simultaneously and let go immediately.”

“’She’s my baby,’ [Cassidy] explained as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘The first thing I ever treated myself to with my own money, and she’s been with me for the whole crazy ride.’ She patted the gear box fondly. ‘I could never part with Penelope.’”

When discussing the underdog love story on Leicester Square, Hattie commented, “If she were a viewer, she’d be shipping them hard.”

While Anthony and Hattie were looking at gravestones, one caught Hattie’s eye…

“The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.”

While reminiscing about growing up, Hattie recalled, “...her mother reading aloud to her from a battered old copy of The Magic Faraway Tree.”

“’Do you remember the day we first met,’ [Hattie] asked suddenly."

“In all honesty, no. His early days on various TV and film sets had all blurred into an archived jumble of long hours, interchangeable costars, despised hotel living. As difficult as it was to imagine now, he had no distinct memory of the very first time he had ever seen Hattie. Although, he might have a vague recollection of earrings shaped like miniature garden gnomes. He did, however, have a crystal-clear memory of the first time he’d actually seen Hattie with all that the emphasis on that word implied.”

“She’d obviously read the ‘no’ in his expression, and her smile widened.”

“’It was a Tuesday morning at Malvern Abbey.’”

“And now she felt excessively wrong sharing close whispering breaths with Patrick especially with Anthony sitting on a folding chair a few meters behind the camera awaiting his queue to slip in for the daydream portion of the scene, and currently watching their every move. His pose was typically lazy, one boot crossed over the other, his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair, but he hadn’t looked away from them once. Something in his demeanor had the usually easy-going Patrick antsy as hell, probably the twitching eyelid.”

“’A definite improvement,’ Stevie’s voice came from behind them, very dryly. ‘And if we’d actually started shooting yet, we could probably call it a day.’”

[rejiun]

Love and cramps

pairing. Ni-ki x f!readerㅤ

summary. Reader gets there period and niki cares for them

wc. 1k+

genre. fluff , period cramps, kind boyfriend

warnings. Mentions of dying and pain. Very lovey dovey, Kisses, teeth rotting writing lol (Let me know if i missed anything)

The moment you woke up, you knew something was wrong. A dull ache settled in your lower stomach, slowly growing into an unbearable wave of pain. You groaned, curling up into a ball, hoping that somehow, if you stayed still enough, it would magically disappear.

It didn’t.

With a sigh, you peeled your eyes open and reached for your phone on the nightstand. The brightness nearly blinded you, but through squinted eyes, you checked the date.

Oh. That explained everything.

You let out another groan, this time dramatically, before burying your face into the pillow.

That’s when Ni-ki stirred beside you.

Still half-asleep, he reached out instinctively, his hand finding your waist as he pulled you closer. “Mmm… why are you making weird noises?” he mumbled groggily, his voice laced with sleep.

You peeked up at him, your face still half-buried in the pillow. “I’m dying.”

Ni-ki cracked one eye open, his brows furrowing slightly. “Huh?”

You huffed. “Period cramps.”

At that, he blinked fully awake. He propped himself up on one elbow, his messy bed hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you. “That bad?”

You nodded miserably, curling up tighter. “It feels like my uterus is trying to self-destruct.”

Ni-ki let out a small chuckle before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Wait here. I got you.”

You watched as he slipped out of bed, still in his sweats and oversized hoodie, his movements slightly sluggish from just waking up. He stretched briefly before disappearing out the door.

Despite your discomfort, you felt a tiny warmth bloom in your chest. He always did this—taking care of you without hesitation, even when he was still half-asleep.

A few minutes later, he returned, carrying a heating pad, a cup of tea, and a small plate of snacks.

"Here," he said, placing the heating pad gently on your stomach. "This should help."

You sighed in relief as the warmth started to soothe the pain. “You’re an angel.”

Ni-ki grinned. “I know.”

Rolling your eyes at his cockiness, you took the cup of tea from him and took a small sip. The warmth helped, but the cramps were still nagging. You shifted uncomfortably, letting out a small whimper.

Immediately, Ni-ki set the snack plate down and climbed back into bed beside you. “C’mere,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms.

You melted against him, resting your head on his chest as his arms wrapped securely around you. His warmth, combined with the steady rise and fall of his breathing, was the most comforting thing in the world.

"Better?" he asked softly, rubbing small circles on your back.

"A little," you admitted, closing your eyes. "But if you could magically make the cramps go away, that’d be great.”

Ni-ki let out a thoughtful hum. “I could try performing some sort of exorcism, but I don’t think your uterus would appreciate that.”

Despite the pain, you let out a small giggle. “Probably not.”

"Then I guess you're stuck with me and my superior cuddling skills," he said smugly.

You snorted. "Superior? Debatable."

"Excuse me?" Ni-ki pulled back slightly, looking at you in mock offense. "Did you just insult my cuddling abilities?"

You smirked, even as another cramp hit you. "I mean… I’ve had better."

His jaw dropped. "You’re lucky you're already suffering, or I’d start a tickle attack right now."

You gasped, clutching his hoodie dramatically. "You wouldn’t dare."

Ni-ki smirked, wiggling his fingers as if he were about to go in for the kill. You immediately clung to him, shaking your head frantically.

"No! Mercy! I take it back, you’re the best cuddler ever!"

He chuckled in satisfaction before pulling you even closer. "That’s more like it."

The two of you stayed like that for a while—wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the heating pad doing its job, and Ni-ki absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back.

Then, after a moment of silence, he suddenly asked, “So… do I get the same treatment when I’m sick?”

You lifted your head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to baby you?”

He grinned. “Absolutely.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be as cute about it as you are.”

"You think I’m cute?" he teased, his smirk widening.

You groaned, shoving your face back into his chest. "Shut up."

Ni-ki laughed, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. "Love you too, baby."

And somehow, despite the cramps, the warmth of his arms made everything a little more bearable.

[belliexpog]

heyy i was wondering if you Could do Sae byeok x fem reader and reader is pregnant. Like Maybe headcanons on the things she would do While you are pregnant like making sure you ate Well (you two would go to her moms house a lot and her mom would say to you, to eat more While Sae byeok is just adoring you) makes sure that you are comfortable when cuddleing, never lets you lift a finger, is there when you are feeling really sick in the morning, tries the thing Where she is behind you and she gently lifts your tummy releaving All the pain in your back and tailbone. (She adores the way you dip your head back on her shoulder and close your eyes, humming How Good it feels as she lift your tummy) and more.

thank you and have a wonderful Day or Night.

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Two babies in one- Sae-Byeok

(headcanons in points + writing)

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The discovery:

Her jaw would drop in shock that the insemination actually worked

"BABY, WE'RE PREGNET!"

She would certainly cry with joy.

Headcanons:

With confusion on her face, she holds up the small, light wooden box, opening it slightly. You shift your position on the bed, sitting up better to see her reaction, with an anxious smile. And She gives you a suspicious look and opens the box. The box was lined with gray crepe paper, but she didn't pay any attention to it, seeing a gray baby bodysuit and the pregnancy test on top. "Baby...Is this...?" She asks, looking at you fearfully with a gleam of hope in her eyes. Your smile widened, and you placed your hand on your stomach, nodding. The girl opens her mouth in shock and puts the box aside, throwing herself on top of you on the bed, kissing you all over. "Baby, we're pregnant! Oh my god..." You let out a laugh, nodding and wrapping your arms around the girl's neck. Her expression suddenly changes, becoming worried. She rolls over, now lying next to you, and places her hand on your belly. "I can't crush the baby..." She murmurs, worried. You He let out a loud laugh and pushed her hand away. "The child is still a seed. There is nothing to crush here."

Telling the mother-in-law and Cheol:

Her mother was super happy, as it was her dream to be a grandmother.

Cheol smiled and said, "A new friend!"

Sae's mother gave you several tips on what to do, what not to do, what you can eat and what you can't eat, everything you needed to know, and Sae listened very carefully, taking mental notes.

Your mother-in-law was the most helpful person ever, often coming to your house to help with things while Sae worked, taking Cheol with her so he could distract you.

Her mother-in-law also makes a point of filling your plate with food, now with less fat and more nutrients, because "it's a mother and her baby who were eating"

First Trimester (Weeks 1-12):

Even though the girl (Sae) HATES reading, she bought pregnancy books to help her to better understand your mood changes or physical disposition.

She bought a new mattress just so you could sleep better, since, according to her, "the book said that in the first trimester of pregnancy, pregnant women could spend a lot of time sleeping."

She doesn't get irritated by your mood swings, just confused. But she takes a deep breath, nods her head and just goes with the flow, not wanting to disagree with you.

Headcanons:

You were exchanging kisses lying in bed, when suddenly, you get up and run to the bathroom. The girl quickly got up, sitting on the bed, seeing you going to the bathroom. As soon as she heard vomiting sounds, she quickly He got up and went to the bathroom, kneeling beside her and grabbing her hair, pulling it away from her face. "Oh baby..." she murmurs, mostly to herself, looking at you with concern. She didn't get up from the floor until you were completely okay. She helped you getting up and washing your face. She made you lie down while she went to get you food.

Second Trimester (Weeks 13-26)

She is SO happy to see your belly growing.

Believe me, she started to become a thousand times more affectionate. Kissing your belly, talking to the baby and helping you to sit.

She drools when she sees you in maternity dresses, or just in your underwear. She simply thinks you look magnificent with your huge belly.

She massages your feet every night, and this gave her the opportunity to buy several body creams thanks to your influence.

Headcanons:

You walked around the store, actually you walked and Sae carried the cart with the groceries, eventually asking you what else was on the list. She didn't really like the idea of you going out and making some kind of effort, but since she knew that it wasn't healthy to spend all your time sitting or lying down every day, she made an exception. Sae crouched down, looking at the section of shower creams and gels. "You like vanilla, don't you?" She asked, picking up a vanilla shower gel and looking at the label. The older woman gave you a quick glance, as you stood with your legs slightly apart, one hand on your back and the other on your belly, lightly patting your face as you looked at a moisturizing cream. "Mhm...Vanilla is perfect" You mumbled, picking up the moisturizer and opening it to smell it. Sae nodded and smiled, standing up and putting it in the cart, seeing the cream you had put on She raised an eyebrow and looked at you. "Me and the baby have to have our skin moisturized... And smelling good." You say, running your hand over your belly and smiling slightly. Sae shrugged, turning to walk again. “That makes sense.”

Third Trimester (Weeks 27-40):

She started to be more careful with you, as she knew that the birth was near.

She would always go with you to the bathroom and help you if you needed it.

At night she would NOT sleep until she was sure you were asleep, because she knew you were having trouble falling asleep.

Every time you woke up to go to the bathroom, she would sit on the bed, watching, and only go back to sleep if you were also asleep.

She started to prepare the delivery bag: With the baby's clothes, your clothes, some hygiene items, diapers for you and the baby, a blanket for you and another for the baby.

You also decorated the baby's room, but it was Sae who did everything, you just gave orders and opinions.

She always got scared when you had contractions.

Headcanons:

"But why paint the colors pink or blue? Use a light gray. When the child is born, the kid will decide. We don't even know if the child will like pink or blue!" You said, leaning against the doorframe, with Sae in the middle of the room, with her hands on her hips, looking at the walls. She nodded, and then looked at you "You're right, princess. Gray it will be!" She said, and smiled looking at you. "And put an armchair or small sofa on that wall, it will look nice. Now I'm going to the bathroom, I'm worried." You said and turned around, walking quickly with difficulty,with her legs spread and her hands behind her back. Sae held back her laughter and followed you to the bathroom.

Labor & Delivery:

Headcanons:

As usual, at 9:30 pm you were already asleep - or trying to -. It was then that one night in January, at 11:00 pm, some strong contractions woke you up. You woke up, moaning in pain.It stopped for a few seconds, but not even a minute later the contractions started again, moving up your back and into your belly too. Sae woke up to the groaning, and immediately said, "You wet the bed..." She mumbled, sitting up in bed, but when she saw that it was too much to be pee, all her senses awakened. "Oh, fuck!" She stood up and walked over to your side of the bed, helping you up. "Shower... Let me take a shower..." You moaned, leaning against her. "No fucking way, honey! You're going straight from the car to the hospital!" Luckily, the delivery bag was already in the car. She reached into her bag, put your cell phones in there, and grabbed the car keys. "Can you walk?" You looked at her, leaning on the bedroom vanity, with your hand on your belly and shook your head. She nodded and walked over to you, picking you up. "I'm training for the future," she jokes, leaving the room, making you laugh in the midst of so much pain. You chose to have a natural birth, aware of the pain, but wanting to feel it. The birth, besides being painful, was at the same time wonderful, because as soon as your little figure arrived in your arms, you immediately stopped crying, you felt as if you were falling in love again, cause you really were. You looked at the face of that tiny being, seeing your features in it. How did such a thing come out of you? Was that cutie less than 50cm tall that would one day come out of your wings? Tears rolled down your face, Sae's hand brushed away the hair stuck to your forehead and smiled. "Hold on, you're the mother too." You said, lightly lifting the baby in your arms. Sae shook her head and smiled. "Let the doctors take the baby and take care of him/her. I have to take care of another baby." You smiled, and the doctor came closer, wanting to take the baby. With a little pity you handed the child into the doctor's arms, and watched him leave. You turned your head to Sae and smiled. "It's so tiny..." The girl let out a laugh and pulled the chair behind her to sit closer to you. She sighed, sitting down and took your hand, stroking it, while the other stroked your forehead. "It's true, princess... It's very tiny..."

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taglist: @vigilxntesht @wtvlmaosstuff

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MAN THIS IS SOSOSOSOSO CUTE

I love you anon for this idea 🙌🏽

Hope you liked it babies!

Xoxo!

[reidingandallthat]

what's in a name?

a last late night conversation, where you confront lauren and start questioning if that's even her real name.

emily prentiss x reader words: 1.8k genre: angst cw: set in when emily was undercover as lauren, reader's role isn't mentioned, feel free to assume. lyric prompt: I will not ask you where you came from, I will not ask and neither should you. honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.

a/n: my submission for my beloved @mggslover 's event, lovers1kevent, again congratulations lovely. tried something different so im terrified. ill just hide out after i post don't hmu kekfjrlfk. idk if the stove and fire thingy worked out as I wanted but oh well.

Nightfall fell like a blanket around the cold winter, three steps into the kitchen with just a lamp on. Dim lights remind you of the same moment just a few months ago, hurried hands roaming through kitchen drawers, hoping for just one clue. 

You take a knife, an untoasted piece of bread laid out on a plate, not much patience to turn on the stove so you spread out jam over it. Cold to touch, just like she was before the calamity. 

The thought was scary, not very surprising, but you had your suspicions. You only hoped for them to not be true. 

A clutter shakes you awake, looking around for any intruder or perhaps Declan, maybe he had a nightmare. The sound was brief as if the intruder had only realised the sound they made but you had heard it. 

Slow and tentative footsteps, careful to never make a sound, you try to decipher the direction of the sound. It's hard, now that it's so quiet. 

But then you hear it again, the scraping of a drawer. So you take the knife left on the kitchen counter, yielded in front of you as a warning. 

Just three more steps till you find out who's here but something stops you. You only see a glance of it, but it's all too recognisable. It's her. 

Her expressions are calm but her hands tell a different story. She doesn't dare look up, her eyes glued to the file she's holding open, determined to look at every word on the paper. 

“She must have stayed over,” You think as you see Lauren hurriedly turning over pages. 

Her looking through anything in the house isn't that much strange to you, but it's the middle of the night and her breath quickens at every second that passes. You know there is nothing normal about this. 

But you rest your weapon anyway, making sure to make a sound so she can hear you coming. And as you anticipated, her body reacted instantly, the file being closed and hidden, her hands busying themselves with the water bottle on the table. 

You slowly walk in, suspicion clouding your face. You don't know yet, but she can tell. She can pick out everything you want to say just by seeing your face, but you don't know that, yet.

“Hi.” You say,

“Hey,” she chuckles, “I was just making a sandwich, do you want one?” she asks, a smile betraying her narrow escape, and perhaps even the objective of her arrival, but she doesn't know that yet.

The red color of the jam stares back at you in fluorescent lighting, eyes strained from being open for too long. 

You're not even hungry anymore.

You can sense her now, a presence too heavy to ignore. You haven't looked up in a few minutes but you could feel her staring at you, brown eyes too enticing to ever look into. 

“You should eat,” she says. 

Your eyes close heedlessly, a sharp stab of pain you desperately hoped you never felt, but it was common nature now. You look up and force a smile, not caring much to make it look natural, she can always tell anyway. Another thing that haunts you most days. 

It's very hard to hide from her, but you can never find her, always looking at a distance, never too close or too far.

You’ve told her it's unfair, she only laughs. Cruel.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” 

She smiles, amused, endeared. Cruel.

“So you were sleep cooking?”

You're grateful she can't see you smiling, you don't want to give her the satisfaction. So, so cruel of you. 

“Don't make me laugh.”

“Is that a crime now?”

The garden was more beautiful to you at night, the smell of jasmine was much more prominent but you had to stay away, if you got too close it made you dizzy. 

You hear a sound, but instead of panic a warmth causes goosebumps all over your body. 

You know how you can tell someone's footsteps apart? 

Hers are unmistakable to you, you're positive you can tell her breathing apart from a crowd of thousands. But that's not appropriate to say out loud.

You learned that pretty quick, nothing was to be said out loud, it made it too real. You can't really tell why she comes every time you call, or why you oblige to her insistences, but you do anyway. Why would she kiss you senseless then laugh and tease, why would she let you roll your eyes at her? Why was it fine by you to sleep next to her when no one was home, why did you let everything happen even if it killed you, little by little? 

You’d asked her once, her fingers tracing meaningless patterns on your face, running a line up and down your nose. 

“Memory of a goldfish. Do you know how long that is?” She asks.

“A few seconds.” You answer.

“You think we can be goldfish?”

You laugh, it's music to her ears.

“Strange way of foreplay, but sure.”

She laughs, it's music to your ears.

“Schadenfreude,” You say as you assemble another piece of bread with the jam covering only one side of it.

You turn on the stove, I don't want to eat it cold justifying your actions but you know it's not accurate. Excuses, excuses.

It's because she's talking to you, and a sick need to hear it again and again and again until it grates your ears but that moment never comes. Somehow you're always looking for reasons to extend the time, finding excuses to turn on the stove. 

“Taking pleasure in other's misfortune.” She explains and you roll your eyes, of course she knows.

“Mhm. Good job.” You bite into a separate piece of bread as you wait for the pan to warm.

“Why is that relevant right now?”

“You're a classic example.”

Her eyebrows crinkle in offense and you want to laugh but it only pesters your heart, a rope tightening around your neck. 

“I don't take pleasure in anybody's pain,” She clutches her heart, mock pain, and it's a joke for her, but it's three in the morning. And you're tired. 

“You take pleasure in my pain,” an emphasis on the word ‘my’. 

Her eyes turn knowing, pitiful and sorry and you hate it. You hate that she has the upper hand, that she can tell you're a desperate, pathetic mess. 

“I don't take pleasure in your pain, honey-”

“Don't you fucking honey me.”

You think you can hear your heart beating, you can feel it in your neck, as if it will jump out any minute. The light sound of the clock ticking fills the silence. The pan is too warm now, so you turn down the heat. You don't want to burn your sandwich. 

She knows not to push, it's a known routine now. It stays silent until you take another piece of bread when she speaks again, just like clockwork, memory of a goldfish.

“Why did you turn on the stove if you were just going to eat them like this anyway?”

“I have free will, go away.”

“Just warm them you already have the stove-”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Okay, what's going on? Why are you being so dismissive?”

“Because I can-”

“Y/n.”

You only look at her, it's too hard to string together sentences anymore. This is one of the few select times you're grateful she can read you like a book. She knows what this is about. 

“What's your name, Lauren?”

It's only the second time you've asked that question. The first time the consequences felt too real. Her eyes hold betrayal, anger and every other thing you can think of. 

She should have been confused, dumbfounded when you asked her the first, she should have brushed you off. But she was angry, the biggest mistake on her part.

“What are you asking me??”

“Your name isn't Lauren.”

“How would you know?” 

“Because you don't answer me when I call you Lauren, it's someone else. It's not the same person who responds when I call her honey, sweetheart, angel, just anything else.”

It felt like a dare, who could win the argument, who would say the harshest words, ask the hardest questions.

“You promised not to ask.” It's an accusation.

“You won't tell me your name Lauren.”

“I can't.”

Your head hangs low as you take deep breaths. Fire burns underneath the pan, small and timid like it's tired. You put the sandwich on the stove, not keen on asking anymore questions, they never get answered anyway. 

You don't notice her get up, or walk towards you. You were hoping she'd just disappear, like none of this ever happened. But her hands cup your face and force you to look up. You keep your eyes closed, too afraid you'll recognise the look on her face. 

The same one she adorned when she was looking for answers, begging you to not ask anymore. 

But you're tired.

“You don't have any secrets? What is this then?” She gestures between the two of you, and a shadow falls over your face. It's unkind of her to ask this, it's not a fair question. She knows that, but she asks anyway.

“Are you kidding me? Are you seriously saying that? You?”

“We all have our secrets. You have yours, I have mine.”

A ringing alarm sound breaks your memory. Her hands leave you, hurrying to turn off the sound, to not wake anyone up. 

She flips the sandwich over, and the other side is burnt, too dark. 

“I don't feel real,” You say. It's a quiet admission, only meant for her. You're not even sure if you yourself want to listen to it.

“You're not real, Lauren. Neither of us are.”

You take the sandwich off the pan, soothing your fingers after the hot surface touches your fingertips. 

You look at her and she looks puzzled, it's adorable. The inexplicable urge to kiss her pesters you again, you had vowed not to do it, but she's too close for you to not to, so you reach her lips anyway, just for a second. But she keeps you in place, just a few more minutes, a phrase you've heard too often when sunlight starts peeking through windows. 

You turn the stove off as she lets you go, you take her silence as an apology. You don't think you could take anymore reasonings and explanations. 

...

The everyday noise of the mornings shakes you awake, you can't even tell when you fell asleep. It's only eight am, you've definitely not gotten enough sleep, but you force yourself off the bed.

The housekeeper is in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with the same knife you held last night.

You can't really tell if it was real or a dream, if you imagined a horrible goodbye or if that was it. 

But you hear Lauren giggling in the living room, and you hear Declan’s laugh accompanying hers. 

The dream was real, you know now but you don't try very hard to convince yourself that it was real. It's better off as a dream, you think.

As you look at the scene in front of. you, you think of the same sentence you've thought every morning for the past few months, Memory of a goldfish.

[creeksandsocks]

The door (drabble)

Eddie Munson x Reader, Established Relationship

Tags: Mature 18+, not proofread [550 words].

After the upside down… you and Eddie have to keep your bedroom door open if he'd like to stay in your room.

One month after the events of season 4, everyone's bustling around your house. It’s become the home base after everything. Once Eddie was stable enough to leave the hospital, you campaigned hard for him to sleep in your room. Wayne wasn’t against it, he trusted you two to be smart about his current condition and he knows his nephew, and knows you. You’re newly in love with kids with good heads on your shoulders, and didn't want to deprive his previously chronically single nephew of time with his new girl. 

Hopper, your own father figure, however, was very against it. He didn’t even want to accept that you’re dating Eddie. While Hopper does have a soft spot for Eddie, he didn’t yet trust him enough to be your boyfriend. But, you argued that your bed would be big enough for both of you instead of having his recovery stunted by tossing and turning all night on your lumpy couch, and the trek up the stairs could be good for him, exercise to aid his recovery.

Through your unlamenting campaigning and eddies pain-killer-high mumbles he gave in. But, that wouldn't prevent him from enforcing a strict ‘the door stays 5 inches open at all times' policy, you two were too happy to argue.

You and Eddie have spent the past few days in bliss, a stark contrast from hell being released outside the halls of your bedroom. You giggle yourselves to sleep every night like your at a sleepover and wake up snuggled in eachothers arms and body heat. After his near death, Eddie has a hard time being calm without you in his eyeline, his instinctual urges to ensure your safety cause him to essentially wrap his entire body around yours as you sleep.

Sometimes, when everyone else in the house is asleep, and it's just you two awake in bed you sneak your bedroom door shut and make up (more make out)  for all the lost time you two could have been kissing. He’s still weak, most of his abdominal wounds are still tightly bandaged so he’s can’t climb over you and cage your body in with his as he kisses you, depraved and spitty no matter how much hed like too. Though you've done it enough times that you can count it on one hand, you normally opt to hover over his body, or face each other on your sides, embracing each other and kissing like you’ll never get the chance to again. Things are staying pretty tame between you two no matter how much you'd like to grind your throbbing sexes until the pressure is relieved, he's more than happy to just kiss you, if all he could ever do was look at you he’d be happy.

One time, after you left each other spit covered and covered in hickeys you'd fallen asleep without reopening the door. As Wayne was the earliest riser out of everyone in the house, he was the first to know. Thankfully, he’s on your side so he gently knocks on the door just in case you two are currently up to… unsupervised activities… when he hears no response he gently pries the door open and sticks his head into your bedroom. He's met with a fathers pride when he finds you two wrapped in eachother's arms under the covers. He leaves the door open a crack before he heads downstairs.

[dannyz0ur]

hii i was wondering if you can do ej nsfw with a s/o whos into bloodplay ?! :3

guhh I truly apologize for the delay 😓 gonna keep trying to write... more... often... i promise...

You'd been going at it with Jack for about an hour already, the wall most likely was already indented by the bed frame. But you weren't even close to being done yet, God no. You never lasted less than two hours with this... feral lover of yours.

He'd always hit the right spot, so good, so deep. Almost effortlessly, he picked you up with one arm and steadied himself with the other one, bringing your back flush to his chest; so much you weren't even in a proper doggy-style position, he was just holding you up all the way.

And, goodness, the way he'd make you dizzy with each thrust. Even if he went slow and deep, or he just rutted his hips against yours in a desperate manner, it always managed to make you cockdrunk and slobber all over yourself. He was just that good.

You were only pulled out of your daze when you came for the fourth time in the night, triggering Jack's first orgasm of the session. Being all shaky and overstimulated at the end of all this was worth it, you thought, for the look of bliss he has when he sees his cum slowly flow out your hole. Or holes, if it was a special occasion...

What really made you come back to reality, even though your orgams would've been enough, was a sharp pain you felt on the crook of your neck at the same time Jack groaned, spilling his load in you. He'd bitten you, buried his sharp teeth in your flesh so deep he could almost just take a bite out of you right then and there.

You would've expected it to make you yelp in pain. So did Jack.

Instead, you moaned.

You moaned louder than when you came. Louder than when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix over and over. With post-nut clarity, Jack was concerned by the trickle of blood flowing out of your neck, but you merely whimpered at the dull pain you felt.

"Sweetheart... are you okay?" Jack whispered in your ear once his fangs detached from your flesh, still sticky with your blood. The sweetest treat Jack had ever tasted. "I... I apologize, I don't know what I was thinkin-"

"Again."

"What?"

"Again... bite me again."

You were serious. Even though a single tear--of overstimulation or pain, Jack couldn't really tell--slid down your cheek, you had this determination in your lust-blown eyes that Jack knew all too well. The kind of determination you had the first time you'd encouraged him to take his mask off in front of you. You'd been so sweet, yet so fixed on getting what you wanted from him. And you always managed to get your way.

You knew that playing with Jack's instincts was dangerous. Yet, you couldn't help but arch your back and let out a choked up moan once he buried his teeth in the flesh of the opposite side of your neck again. And again. And again. Because he couldn't get enough of your moans. Of you.

Your neck was quickly covered with bite marks and blood. Jack was losing it—taking little hints of what you could taste like every time he bit into your flesh, savoring your blood. It was nearly miraculous how you weren’t passing out when he was brutally pounding into you, practically making you bleed out.

His moans were more animalistic each time, his thrusts deeper and more messy. He was being an absolute beast, a flesh-eating beast, and you could only moan and pant with what was left of your strength. You took so much time to recover after that night...

so short... but i hope you liked it... 😓

[meadowfics]

heyy i was wondering if you Could do Sae byeok x fem reader Where reader is having really bad period cramps to the point Where she is unable to move without feeling Extreme pain and is throwing up everything she stands up for long periodes of time.

extreme sickness

kang sae-byeok x f!reader

the moment sae-byeok notices you curled up in bed, barely able to move while holding your stomach, she immediately knows something is wrong.

you’re usually up and about, doing things even when you’re tired

now?

you look completely drained.

when she touches your forehead, she realizes how clammy you are.

you flinch slightly from the pain radiating through your body, and it makes her frown deeply.

she doesn’t like seeing you like this.

"it’s that bad?"

she asks softly, already knowing the answer when you give her a weak nod.

sae-byeok quickly grabs an extra blanket, tucking it around you before leaving the room.

she returns with a heating pad and places it gently on your lower stomach, her touch careful and precise.

"stay here. i’ll get you something for the pain,"

she murmurs before heading to the kitchen to brew some warm tea and grab painkillers.

when she returns, she kneels beside the bed, pressing the cup against your lips, encouraging you to sip slowly.

the woman's free hand strokes your hair, brushing damp strands away from your face.

the pain doesn’t let up, and soon, you’re rushing to the bathroom, nausea hitting you hard.

sae-byeok is right behind you, holding your hair back as you throw up, rubbing slow circles into your back.

"breathe, baby. i’ve got you,"

she whispers, her voice softer than ever.

she hates seeing you like this, but she won’t let you suffer alone.

when you’re done, she wipes your mouth with a damp cloth and helps you back to bed, making sure you’re lying in the most comfortable position possible.

she massages your lower back and stomach, her hands firm but soothing, trying to ease some of the pain.

she’s never been the best with words, but her actions speak for themselves.

throughout the day, she doesn’t leave your side.

she brings you snacks even if you can’t keep much down, making sure you stay hydrated.

when you start crying from the intensity of the cramps, she pulls you against her chest, holding you close, whispering reassurances.

"i’m right here. just hold onto me."

sae-byeok stays up through the night, watching over you, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead when she thinks you’re asleep.

even though she’s not the most affectionate person, she makes sure you know she’s there, making you feel as safe and comfortable as possible.

she lets you sleep in her arms, the warmth of her body soothing your pain little by little, her presence a reminder that you’re not alone in this.

masterlist

[sequinsmile-x]

Growing Pains

Having teenagers, as it turned out, was the most trying part of parenthood so far, and there were times when she almost considered apologising to her mother. 

Almost. 

AKA - a story about Aaron, Emily, and their teenage daughter who is determined to push boundaries.

Part 1/2

-x-

Hi besties,

Sorry for the slight delay on this - I've got a horrible cold and this fic kept getting bigger and bigger (shocking I know) but here we are!!

This is inspired by an ask I got from anon (who I hope enjoys this fic) asking how I think our favs would deal with a rebellious teenager. Because of who I am as a person, this has become a two parter.

Please let me know what you think, and part 2 will be up within the next few days!

-x-

Words: 6.8K (it really got away from me)

Warnings: brief references to past abortion, brief mentions of underage drinking

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Ferme tes jolis yeux

Car les heures sont brèves

Au pays merveilleux

Au doux pays des rêves.”

Emily sings quietly as she paces back and forth, holding her little girl against her chest. She suppresses a yawn and rubs a soothing circle on Lucy’s back, tilting her head to look down at her baby. Lucy was finally asleep, the 2-day-old’s cheek squished against her chest, and Emily sighs in relief, dropping a kiss to her dark hair and breathing her in, the sweet newborn smell the most addictive thing in the world.

The house is quiet, both Aaron and Jack asleep upstairs in the bed, and dark apart from the lamp she switched on when she came downstairs to the living room. It was peaceful, a bubble they’d built around themselves as they got used to the addition to their family. She couldn’t wait for their friends to meet Lucy, but she wanted this to last as long as possible. For the 2 am feeds and the moments like it to not be her only time with her little girl that was just hers. 

“Let’s sit down, sweet girl,” she says, clenching her jaw to hold back a wince as she sits on the couch, “Mommy is too tired and too sore to walk around anymore.” 

It was Lucy’s first night at home and it felt surreal, strange in some ways that the doctors and nurses had just sent her home with a tiny baby, with a whole new person to look after as if she knew what she was doing. Lucy refused to sleep anywhere but in Emily’s arms, would cry even if Aaron tried to hold her, so Emily knew there was no point in taking her back upstairs and trying to lay her in her bassinet. Even though she was exhausted, more tired than she ever thought possible, she didn’t mind. She knew a day would come when she’d miss this, when she’d look back on the long, seemingly endless, nights when either she or Lucy, or both of them, would cry whilst she tried to nurse her. 

She smiles when she hears footsteps on the hardwood floor, her husband’s familiar footfall loud in the otherwise silent house, despite his obvious attempts to be quiet. 

“Daddy’s coming to see us, baby,” Emily says, kissing Lucy’s hairline again, and she smiles up at him when he walks into the living room, “Hi honey.” 

“There are my girls,” he says, looking as tired as she feels, his hair askew from where he’d been running his fingers through it, and his pyjamas wrinkled from the small amount of sleep he’d had. He walks over and drops a kiss to the top of Emily’s head before he joins her, making sure he’s careful to not jostle either of them as he sits down, “Are you two okay?” 

Emily hums and rests her head on his shoulder, “She wouldn’t settle so I brought her down here to feed her,” she replies, tilting her head to look up at him, “I hope we didn’t wake you up.”

He shakes his head and runs his fingers through her hair before he tucks it behind her ear, “Our bed gets cold without you.” 

She chuckles lightly, “Says the walking furnace.” 

He watches her as she tries to adjust how she’s sitting, her barely covered wince a dagger at his heart. He’d held it together throughout her labour because he knew she needed him to be her strength when she felt hers start to fade, that she needed to lean on him - literally and mentally - but more than once he’d felt himself holding back tears at seeing her in so much pain. He always thought he couldn’t be any more in love with her, any more proud and in awe of her, but she always proved him wrong, always managed to surpass the expectations she herself had set. 

“Want me to take her?” He asks, hiding a smile when she tightens her hold on Lucy as if he was going to take her from her. If he hadn’t been through his before with Haley, if he hadn’t watched the instincts kick in when Jack was a tiny baby and this was all new to him and Haley too, he’d be offended, but he knew they were all adjusting. He knew that Emily was still hesitant to have the baby anywhere other than in her arms, something that their little girl seemed to share with her. 

“No, it’s okay,” she replies, an apology in her smile as she realises what she’s done, “I’m just sore, that’s all,” she looks at Lucy, smiles at the slope of her nose, at the rosebud lips and the dimples they’d already playfully argued over - each claiming she’d inherited them from the other, “She’s worth it though,” she chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, and she shakes her head at herself, wiping a tear she’d come to expect from her cheek before she puts her hand back on Lucy’s back, “When will I stop crying when I just look at her?” She asks, even though she knows there’s no answer, “She’s perfect. How did I make something so perfect?” 

Aaron wraps his arm around her and kisses her temple before he wipes her tears away for her, “Because you’re perfect, and she’s a mini you.” 

Emily chokes on a sound between a laugh and a sob and she leans in to kiss him, barely pulling back to speak, “You’re pretty perfect too.” 

____

One thing Emily had learnt over the years, was that each era of parenthood had its positives and negatives. 

When the kids were small, when they were tiny little things that needed her for everything, she’d barely had any time to herself, or barely any time for her and Aaron. It made everything feel all the more precious, all the more needed, as she scrambled for 10 minutes in the bath or just an hour of alone time with her husband. But she’d loved it, and missed it when she looked back on it. She missed the night feeds, the snuggles where her babies would sleep curled up on her chest.

She missed being needed. 

When they were toddlers, when their quest for knowledge and need to understand the world around them, she barely had time to think. Their constant questions, the repetition of her name that made her wonder how she’d ever been excited to hear them say it for the first time, and their lack of fear or self-preservation, were exhausting. But watching them grow, watching their personalities develop and their eyes go wide when they experienced something for the first time was incredible, the very thing she’d wanted to see her whole life. 

“Mom!” 

“Emily!” 

She sighs as she sits back in her home office chair, pinching the bridge of her nose as she hears her eldest daughter and her husband call out for her at the same time. 

Having teenagers, as it turned out, was the most trying part of parenthood so far, and there were times when she almost considered apologising to her mother. 

Almost. 

She gets up and walks down the hall to the kitchen, her hands on her hips, “What’s happened now?” 

She looks over at Samuel and Eleanor, the 13-year-old twins drawing her attention with their barely covered laughter and matching smiles. 

“Luce got her nose pierced,” Eleanor says, pressing her lips together as she swallows back a laugh again, always delighting in her older sister’s recent rebellious streak. 

“Dad isn’t happy,” Samuel finishes for her, and Emily looks over at her husband and Lucy, her eyes catching on the, slightly too large for her face, nose ring she can see in her daughter’s nose, the sparkle of it catching in the kitchen light. Aaron is standing next to her, his hands on his hips and his expression exasperated, and she knew she’d have to intervene before things escalated into an argument. 

“Okay you two,” Emily says, turning to look at the twins, “Can you go to the living room please?” she says, raising her eyebrow when neither of them takes the opportunity to leave, “Now.” 

Eleanor huffs out a breath and gets off the stool, “Come on Sammy, that’s Mom-speak for ‘we’re yelling at Lucy and you’re not allowed to watch.’”

“No one is doing any yelling,” Emily says, her eyebrow still raised but her smile soft as they leave the room. 

“I might,” Aaron quips and Emily sighs as she looks over at him. 

“Honey-”

“She had her nose pierced, Em-”

“I am right here you know,” Lucy says, cutting over her father, her arms crossed over her chest in defiance, “And it’s my face.” 

“You’re 16.” 

“Okay,” Emily says, walking over to them with her hands up, “Let’s deal with this one thing at a time,” she turns to look at Lucy first, “Sweetie, you’re right - it’s your face and your choice, but you are our kid,” she raises her eyebrow as Lucy scoffs, not carrying on until Lucy’s shoulders loosen and her eyes flash with an apology, as if she hadn’t meant to make the sound outloud, “And as long as you are a minor and live in this house, you run this kind of thing past us first, okay?” She turns to look at Aaron, their conversation silent for a moment as their eyes meet, her just go with me on this obvious to him, “That sounds reasonable, right?” 

He clears his throat, his arms crossing over his chest as if he has to physically do so to stop his real feelings about their daughter’s nose ring from escaping, “Right,” he says, looking over at Lucy, “But no tattoo’s until you’re 18.” 

Lucy smirks, “Don’t worry, Dad. My fake ID is nowhere near good enough for that.” 

Emily sighs and looks at her daughter, “Not helping,” she says, shaking her head and resting her hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face the door, “Go sit with your brother and sister until dinner, okay?” 

She nods, “No making out in here whilst we’re gone,” she replies, “This is where we eat.” 

As soon as she’s out of earshot, when whatever the twins were watching on TV would drown out the conversation in the kitchen, Emily turns to look at her husband, “Honey, we have to pick our battles.” 

He sighs and his arms tighten over his chest, his grip on his triceps tight enough she’s briefly distracted by the way his muscles ripple under his skin, “I know, sweetheart. I think I was just…shocked. She just walked in with it like it had always been there and I reacted,” he shakes his head at himself, “She’s beautiful just as she is.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “Of course she is,” she says, “I know that. But she’s just trying to express herself, and if anything I think this says a lot about our parenting skills.” 

He furrows his frows at that and tilts his head, “How?” 

“Do you know how self-assured she must be to get her nose pierced? To draw attention to it?” She shrugs and smiles sadly, “I would have loved to have done it when I was her age, and not just because it would have annoyed my mother, but because I liked it. But I hated my nose, so I did everything I could to distract from it,” she scrunches her nose up and shudders as she thinks about her own teenage years, “Why do you think I dressed like Siouxsie Sioux?”

He’s still frowning at her, but his crossed arms loosen, his eyes curious, “When did you start to like your nose?” 

She smiles shyly, but not because she’s embarrassed. She’d stopped being able to be embarrassed in front of him years ago. He was the person who’d held her hand when she had three of his children. He’d washed vomit from her hair when her morning sickness got the better of her, and he’d helped her on and off from the toilet when she couldn’t bend down after her c-section when having the twins. He was another part of her, the missing half she hadn’t known had been missing until their first kiss. She’s not shy because she’s embarrassed, but because she knows exactly what he’s going to do next, and it somehow makes her love him even more. 

She shrugs one of her shoulders, “The first time I saw it on her face.” 

He pulls her into a hug as if an autopilot, his smile a mix of sadness and adoration as he leans in to kiss the tip of her nose, just like she knew he would. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiles and kisses him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” she replies, kissing him again as he places his hands on her hips, “You’re not bad to look at yourself,” she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, “She’s just…figuring out who she is, honey. And we have to let her.”

He sighs and leans forward to press his forehead against hers, “You’re right.” 

“I so often am,” she replies, “You’d think after almost 20 years together you’d be used to it.” She leans in to kiss him, her lips barely touching his when she hears a chorus of disgust from the doorway. She smiles as she turns to look at her children, Lucy standing in the middle of Samuel and Eleanor, and she rolls her eyes playfully, “I am allowed to kiss your dad, you know,” she says, shifting so she has her arm around his waist, deciding she was going to have some fun at her children’s expense, “In fact, I’ve done a whole lot more than kiss him-”

“Oh god, Mom.” 

“Emily.” 

___

She yawns and reaches out for the mug on her desk, idly telling herself a second cup of tea would help wake her up. Before she can step away, before she can even stand up, her phone rings, the number for Lucy’s daycare flashing up on the screen. 

“Crap,” she mutters under her breath, worst case scenarios flooding her lungs, her chest cramped so she can’t breathe as she answers, “Hello?” 

“Hi, is this Lucy’s mom?” 

“Yeah, this is her mom. Is everything okay?” She asks, already standing up, the phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder as she shoves everything back into her purse. 

“She’s thrown up a few times in the last hour and now she has a fever.” 

Emily feels her heart clench, her chest hollowed out as she thinks about her baby being sick and her not being there, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

She’s never been more grateful that she finally took up Clyde’s persistent offers of a job. After she got married to Aaron, Clyde finally relented and stopped offering the role in London and started telling her there was a role in DC for her if she wanted it. She took it the moment she and Aaron decided to try for a baby. It was a fresh start she’d needed, a job untouched by what Ian had done to her, by people knowing that she’d died and come back a different person. She no longer walked into a room knowing that colleagues had been talking about her, that they’d been gossiping about things she wished they didn’t know. Now she was the boss, had her own office and the respect of everyone around her. She was good at her job, excellent even, and she loved it. 

She usually loved it, but as she walks into Lucy’s daycare, as her little girl presses her face against her chest the moment she’s handed to her, her skin warm and clammy, Emily hates her job. Hates herself for taking it, for going back to work and leaving her 6-month-old in the care of other people. She smiles and nods as the daycare worker updates her on Lucy’s temperature and the medicine they’d given her, holding her little girl close as she does her best to not burst into tears. 

The moment she gets Lucy home, she sits on the couch with her against her chest, rubbing a circle on her back as she fusses.

“My poor, baby,” she says, resting her cheek against her head, “Mommy is right here.” 

She sings to her, keeps her voice low and soft as she does her best to soothe her to sleep. Lucy has just drifted off when Emily’s phone rings, and she answers it quickly, picking it up from where she’d thrown it on the couch, barely registering Aaron’s name and the picture of him with the kids on the screen. 

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he replies, “How is she?”

Emily hums and kisses Lucy’s forehead, grimacing at the warmth of her skin, “She’s got a fever, and she’s very clingy. She just wants to snuggle.” 

“She always wants to snuggle with you,” he replies, and she sucks in a breath, dropping another kiss to Lucy’s head, “Are you okay?” 

She wonders if she should hate that he knows her so well, that he knows something is wrong without her having to say it. She chokes on a sound she can’t name, “I’m feeling like the worst mother in the world right now,” she says, wiping away tears she thinks she should have expected, “My baby was sick and I wasn’t there.” 

“But the moment you were called you were there. You’re the best mom.”

She blows out a breath, “You’re meant to say that, you’re my husband-” she furrows her brow when her phone vibrates, and she pulls it back to see that she is getting a call from Jack’s school, “Oh god, Jack’s school is calling,” she says, “I should take that - he’s probably sick too.”

“Let me know what they say, sweetheart,” he replies, “I’ll go and get him if he needs picking up.” 

“Thanks, honey, you’re the best,” she ends the call with Aaron and answers the call from the school, “Hi, Emily speaking.”

“Hi, is this Jack’s mom?” 

She sighs, unable to suppress a smile as she replies, “Yeah,” she says, kissing Lucy’s head, “This is his mom.”

___

“You were never like this when Jack wanted to bring his first girlfriend over.” 

Emily sighs and pushes her hair out of her face as she blows out a breath so she doesn’t raise her voice, “Luce, Jack didn’t want her to stay overnight when we weren’t here,” she says, and Lucy rolls her eyes, slumping back against the couch, “And we haven’t even met Jacob.” 

Lucy sighs, “That’s because I don’t trust you and Dad to not be embarrassing,” she scrunches her nose up, fighting the smile that breaks out across her face, “Or Nora and Sammy. This is a house of embarrassment. The only person I trust to behave is Jack and he’s in New Haven.” 

Emily smiles, “He is endlessly sensible, isn’t he?” She says, remembering when he was a teenager. She’d almost had to encourage him to misbehave, to push boundaries that he respected. It was part of what had left her and Aaron so unprepared for Lucy’s teenage years. They’d been lulled into a false sense of security by their eldest. 

She saw herself in Lucy. Saw who she could have been if she’d been loved in the way she needed when she was her age, if she’d had the mother she still found herself wishing for even now. Lucy was unashamedly herself, unburdened by expectations that Aaron and Emily had never held her to. All they ever wanted of her, of any of their children, was for them to be kind and to do their best. 

She presses her lips together and studies Lucy, watches as she spins her nose ring around, and she wonders when she grew up, when she stopped being the tiny little thing who was always attached to her side. She loved watching her kids get older, loved watching who they were becoming, but it was hard too. It made her ache, an empty space in her chest that she wasn’t used to making her feel hollowed out, another bit of it carved away each time one of her children pulled a little further away. 

Aaron struggled with it more, Emily knew that. He wanted to keep the kids safe, everything they’d both seen in their jobs lingering in every shadow, and it had made him extra cautious. Emily did her best to be more realistic, to know that they had to let some things slide, but the casual way that Lucy had announced she had a boyfriend was the first time Emily found herself edging more towards her husband’s point of view. She so desperately wanted to protect Lucy, to make sure she didn’t go through what she went through, to save her little girl from the weight of what had happened when she was even younger than she was. 

“Now you have a boyfriend,” she says, trying to stay casual, “I just want to make sure that you know I’m here if you have any questions about sex-”

“Mom,” Lucy exclaims, looking around as if they weren’t home alone, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

She sighs, “I know, honey. I’m just saying, “Make sure that when you are ready to take that step, you use protection.” 

Lucy grimaces, scrunching her nose up, the movement drawing attention to her nose ring, “God, Mom.” 

“I mean it, Luce. You need to be careful, okay? I’m not under any illusion that you won’t have sex at some point, but you need to promise me you’ll make Jacob use a condom. And I’ll take you to the doctor to get the pill if you need me to,” she swallows thickly, pushing down all the emotions that are rising up her throat, “But you need to be careful.” 

Lucy groans, “Okay, jeez,” she says, her eyebrow raised in challenge, a look on her face that Aaron always said was all her, “Do you and Dad use protection?” 

Emily chuckles, the ghost of who she was as a teenager finally disappearing, her grip on her throat loosening, “No, baby. Your dad and I haven’t had sex with anyone other than each other in almost 20 years, and at this point, your dad has as much of a chance of getting pregnant as I do.” 

“Mom, I’m not going to get pregnant.” 

Later, she’ll wonder why she says it. Whether it’s the absolute confidence in her daughter’s voice that she’d once felt herself, or maybe it’s because a small part of her wants her to know, wants her to understand, that her actions have consequences. That choices she made now could have lifelong repercussions. 

“I did.” 

Lucy finally looks up at her, her eyebrows furrowed in a way that makes her look like Aaron as their eyes meet, “What?” 

Emily nods, and she presses her lips together, taking a moment to clear her throat, “Yeah. I was a little younger than you.” 

“I…” Lucy trails off, any previous attempt at impertinence gone in an instant, “I’m sorry that happened to you.” 

Emily reaches out and runs her fingers through Lucy’s hair, grateful that for once she doesn’t flinch away. If anything, she leans into the touch, shifting closer to Emily for the first time in a long time, “It’s okay, baby. It was a long time ago now.” 

“And you…didn’t have a baby?” 

Emily shakes her head, “No, sweetheart. I didn’t.” 

“Does Grandma know?” Lucy asks, and Emily chokes on a humourless laugh, triggering the same sound to escape Lucy too, “Sorry, stupid question. She probably would have locked you in a convent somewhere.” 

She laughs, for real this time, and she nods, because it was sadly true, “I didn’t really tell anyone, just a friend who helped me. And now only your dad knows,” she runs her fingers through her hair again, “And you.” 

Lucy leans against her, wrapping both of her arms around one of hers and resting her head on her shoulder, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

Emily kisses the top of her head, “I know you won’t,” she says, pulling back to look down at Lucy, “I know it’s embarrassing to talk about with your mom, but I hope you know that it’s just because I don’t want you going through what I did.”

Lucy nods against her, “I’ll be careful…when the time comes,” she says, her cheeks bright red, “I promise,” she encourages Emily to wrap her arm around her and snuggles into her side, “I’m glad you’re my mom.” 

Her eyebrows knit together curiously, “Really? Why’s that?” 

Lucy pulls away just enough to look at her, “Because no matter what, I know I can come to you about anything.” 

It takes everything in Emily to not burst into tears, and she pulls Lucy closer, hugging her fiercely in a way it felt like she hadn’t in years, “I love you, Luce.” 

“I love you too, Mom.” 

___

“Mom, can I push Lucy on the swing?”

Emily chuckles at Jack’s excitement and she adjusts her hold on Lucy, making sure she’s comfortably sitting in her lap.

“Yes, sweetie, once we’ve eaten our lunch,” she says, and he smiles widely, making a point of eating his sandwich quickly, “Slow down, Jack. The swings will still be there when we’re done,” she looks at her watch, “And Daddy will be here soon.”

Aaron had been called into work, torn out of their quiet morning as a family by paperwork that supposedly couldn’t wait until Monday. He told her to go ahead with taking the kids to the park, to having the picnic he’d prepared the night before, Tupperware full of sandwiches he’d made and put in the fridge for them, and that he’d meet them as soon as he could. He’d sent her a text half an hour ago saying he was on the way and she was looking forward to seeing him, wondering when she’d become someone who missed a person after only being apart for a few hours. 

“Dada!” 

Emily smiles at the sound of Lucy’s sweet voice, and she kisses her cheek, tugging gently on one of her pigtails that stuck straight up in the air, “That’s right, baby - Dada will be there soon.” 

Lucy had only started speaking a few weeks ago - babbling nonsense that had given way to Mama, Dada and a sound they know means Jack - and it was unlike anything Emily had ever experienced. Hearing her little girl say Mama for the first time was a memory she knew would always be one of her favourites, right up there with the first time Jack had casually called her Mom instead of Emily. She knew Aaron felt the same way about the first time he’d heard Lucy call him Dada. He’d missed the first time she’d ever said it. He’d been away on a case, had been on the other side of the country when Lucy pointed at a picture of him and said it, stopping both Emily and Jack in their tracks as they looked at her, matching expressions of shock and happiness on their faces. Emily had been tempted to not tell Aaron, to let it happen organically when he came home so he thought that the first time he heard Lucy say it was the first time she’d ever said it, but Jack had beat her to it before she’d had a chance to truly think about keeping a secret from her husband. The little boy’s smile wide as he announced that Lucy had said Dada, his excitement drowning out any disappointment Aaron had been unable to keep from his wife. 

Lucy lets go of the toy she’d been holding, a ball with Olaf the snowman on it, and it rolls away from them. Lucy grunts, and before Emily can even attempt to get it, Jack is on his feet. 

“I’ll get it, Mom.” 

“Thanks, baby,” she replies, smiling as he picks it up and hands it to Lucy, “You’re such a good big brother.

“‘Ack,” Lucy says, taking the ball from him, smiling widely at her brother. Then she looks past him, seeing Aaron before Emily and Jack do, and she stands up, her hands grabbing fists of grass as she pushes herself onto her feet, “Dada!”

Emily looks in the direction she’s pointing, her hand reaching out to steady her, but she’s met with nothing but air. She frowns when she sees Lucy several feet away from where she’d been expecting her, her arms stretched outwards as she walks towards Aaron.

“Oh my God,” Emily says, standing up quicker than she thought her knees would allow, “Oh my God she’s-.” 

“Mom,” Jack cuts over her, his eyes wide, “Lucy's walking.” 

Emily scrambles for her phone, digs it out of her pocket and turns on the camera to start recording. She captures the moment Aaron kneels down just a few paces away from Lucy, his smile wide, the dimples in his cheeks visible from where she was standing, as he encourages their little girl to walk the last few steps. She all but falls against him, her tiny hands against his knees as she collapses into him, and Aaron scoops her up, stamping kisses against her cheeks as he settles her on his hip, drawing out giggles that make Emily’s heart soar. She stops recording and tucks her phone into her pocket as she runs over, her hand around Jack’s as they meet in the middle, her other hand on Lucy’s back as she kisses her temple. 

Lucy smiles at the affection, her grass-stained thumb in her mouth before Emily tugs it out, delighted at the attention she’s getting even if she doesn’t understand it. 

“Whose my clever little girl?” Emily says, kissing her temple again, “Did you walk to Daddy?” She says, tickling her belly to draw out another giggle, Aaron chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and his eyes are shining when Emily looks at him. She cups his cheek and draws him in for a quick kiss, “We’re going to have to baby-proof the shit out of the house now.” 

He laughs and kisses her, “I’ll start the moment we get home,” he kisses her again before he reaches for her hand and squeezes, looking down at Jack as they start to head back towards their abandoned picnic, “I think we should get ice cream to celebrate, what do you think, Jack?” 

Jack’s excited nod is the only answer they need. 

___

She can hear raised voices before she opens the front door. She sighs and puts her key in the lock, taking a deep breath before she pushes it open. As she steps into the house, Lucy’s yelling is no longer muffled, and Emily dumps her purse just inside the door so she can seek them out, her hopes of a quiet Friday night with her family dashed before they even know she’s home. 

She finds them in the kitchen, dinner half prepared on the counter, and neither one of them seems to have heard her walk in. 

“You’re not going to the party, and that’s final.” 

Emily shakes her head, almost admiring her daughter’s attempt to divide and conquer. She’d asked her about the party that morning as they got ready for the day, dutifully dodging questions about whether there was going to be any parental supervision or not, and Emily had told her no. She’d been to those parties herself, hadn’t had a parent who cared enough to be around to say no, and she didn’t want Lucy to go. She did her best to be an understanding parent, to let her kids push boundaries and figure out who they are, but this was a hard line for her. 

She’d seen far too many girls Lucy’s age hurt, or worse, in situations just like this. 

Lucy scoffs, “But everyone else is going!” 

Aaron sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, and Emily can see that his patience is fraying, the threads of it pull to their limit as he stays calm in the wake of the teenager’s anger, “I don’t care if everyone else is going, you’re not.” 

Lucy grumbles, the sound turning into a growl as it catches in her throat, and she throws her arms up in her air, “Dad, you’re being so unreasonable, you’re ruining my life.” 

Emily almost interjects, but Aaron replies again, still as calm as he can be, the weight of his father’s anger heavy on his shoulders.

“Lucy, I just want you to be safe - and this doesn’t sound safe,” he sighs, “I know you think you’ve got it all figured out, but you’re 16, princess. You-”

“Don’t call me princess,” she shouts, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m not a kid.” 

Aaron’s jaw tightens, but his voice is still even, his expression stern and not one he often used in their home, “You are a kid. You’re my kid. And I am saying no.” 

There’s a moment of silence as Lucy shakes her head, her whole body vibrating with anger she can’t control or fully understand.

“I hate you.” 

Emily watches as Aaron deflates, his shoulders falling back as if he’s taken a physical hit, and she steps into the kitchen, “Don’t speak to your father like that.” 

Lucy and Aaron both look at her as if they’d only just realised she’s there, “But, Mom-”

“No, ‘but Mom’, nothing. You don’t speak to him like that,” she replies, as firm as she ever was with the kids, “And even if I didn’t agree with your dad on this, you absolutely wouldn’t be going now.” 

Lucy scoffs, “Mom-”

“Go to your room,” she says, “I’ll come and talk to you when you’ve calmed down.” 

Lucy looks like she’s going to argue for a moment, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shakes her head and marches past them, throwing one final piece of her anger over her shoulder, one final barb catching in her parent’s skin that Emily knows she’ll regret once she’s calmed down. 

“You’re the worst parents ever.” 

Emily sucks in a breath as she watches Lucy walk away, stamping her feet on each step before she slams her bedroom door. 

“That went well,” Aaron quips, his smile sad as she turns to look at him, and she walks over, wrapping her arms around his waist. He hugs her back immediately, a desperation to it that makes her heart ache. 

“She didn’t mean it, honey,” she says, rubbing a circle on his back, turning her head to kiss his cheek, “You know she loves you.” 

He hums and pulls back, “I know. Doesn’t make it any easier to hear though.” 

“I know,” she replies, pushing her fingers through his hair, smiling at the flecks of grey at his temples, “Is it just me who misses when they were small and thought we were the coolest people ever?”

He chuckles and stamps his lips against hers, “It’s not just you, sweetheart,” he kisses her again and then tugs her against him for a hug, “I’m sorry you came home to an argument.”

“That’s okay,” she replies, kissing his jaw before she pulls back to look at him, “You know you’re an excellent dad, right?” 

He smiles, a bit more of him shining through in it this time, and she knows it’s exactly what he needed to hear, “Thanks, sweetheart. And you’re an excellent mom.” 

“Dad?” 

They turn to see Samuel standing in the doorway, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. 

“Everything okay, buddy?” 

“I wondered if you needed help with dinner?” Samuel nods and clears his throat,  and it’s such an obvious attempt to cheer Aaron up after he’d overheard the argument with Lucy, that Emily feels like she could burst. She unwraps herself from around Aaron and pulls Samuel into a hug, stamping a kiss against his head. “God, Mom. Stop.” 

She smiles as she steps away, “You’re sweet.” 

He runs his fingers through his hair to straighten it out, “You’re embarrassing.” 

Emily and Aaron make eye contact over Samuel’s head, and Aaron winks at her before he replies to their son, “If you don’t mind Sammy, I need some help with the vegetables.” 

Samuel nods, muttering under his breath about Sammy being the name for a baby before he walks over to help Aaron. 

Lucy stays in her room all evening. Her irritation with her parents still clear when Emily takes her some dinner and tries to talk to her about their point of view. Eleanor asks Emily to braid her hair for the first time in years, another sign that the twins had both heard Lucy’s outburst earlier, and Emily finds herself in awe of her children’s capacity for empathy. They were good kids, all of them, and she was endlessly proud of them and the people they were becoming.

Even if their stubbornness, which they’d inherited from both her and Aaron, was world record worthy.  

She sighs contentedly as she settles into bed next to Aaron, pulling the covers over them both. She leans in to kiss him, tasting the sadness that was still lingering on his tongue, made worse by Lucy not even answering him through her door when he’d said goodnight. Emily pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against his. 

“You okay?” She asks, and he nods, his forehead knocking against hers, “Want me to be the big spoon?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, kissing her one more time, “You’re too small to be the big spoon,” he replies, encouraging her onto her side, “It’s like wearing a jetpack.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and turns her head to stamp her lips against his again, “I’m not that much shorter than you,” she says, resting her head on her pillow and pulling his arm to cuddle it against her chest as he moulds himself against her. She kisses his knuckles before tucking his hand under her chin, “You are a very good big spoon though.” 

She couldn’t remember a time in her life before him, and couldn’t believe she’d lived for so much longer without him than she had with him by her side. She couldn’t imagine doing any of this with anyone else, sure that if she hadn’t kissed him that one night 19 years ago, and if he hadn’t kissed her back, she wouldn’t have any of this - one kid at an Ivy League college and three others asleep just down the hall, a partner she loved more than life itself. 

She’s sure she would have been happy in another life, just a different kind of happy that she was glad wasn’t hers. 

“Goodnight sweetheart, I love you.” 

She hums as he kisses her cheek, “I love you too.” 

She isn’t sure how long she’s been asleep when her phone rings. She groans, blindly reaching out for it, knocking her reading glasses from her nightstand as she grabs her phone. She opens her eyes, the bright light of the screen making her wince as she blinks away the bleariness, and she frowns when she sees Lucy’s name on the screen. 

“Lucy,” she says as she answers, a bad feeling settling in her gut, the weight of it remaining as she slips out from Aaron’s embrace, ignoring the way he calls after her half asleep. She can hear yelling in the background, the unmistakable sound of a party filtering down the line with her daughter’s voice, and she steps out into the hallway, “Why are you calling?” 

“Mom,” she says, her voice slurring, “Can you come get me?” 

“Come get you?” She asks, her heart dropping into her stomach as she walks into Lucy’s bedroom and finds it empty, just like she knew she would. It doesn’t make the sight of the unmade bed, the teddy bear Lucy claimed she didn’t need anymore tipped on the floor, and the open window any easier to take. She feels panic rise in her chest, worst case scenarios flooding through her, every bad thing she’d ever seen happen to a person hitting her square in the chest as she puts her daughter on speaker phone. She scrambles to open the Find My Friends app she has on her phone, her worry tipping into desperation when she sees Lucy’s disabled it on her end, only Aaron, Samuel, Eleanor and Jack flashing up on the map, “Where are you?” 

Lucy sighs, the hesitation in it clear even though she’s obviously drunk, “I snuck out,” she says, hiccuping, carrying on even though she doesn’t need to, “I’m at the party.” 

[maleoventlover]

♱A Token of Blood and Gold♱ Pt.2

✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠✠

English Professor!Vampire x Human fem!reader

Your knees began buckle underneath as the blood flows freely from the fresh wound into your shoulder. Pain slowly became something else, something new. Oh this feeling. It was unlike anything you had ever felt. You could feel it burning in your veins. Lust, agony, desire, anger, emotions raged through you as Professor Farsi sinks his teeth deeper and deeper.

Your body begins to convulse as these emotions flow through you, your soul, your essence. It was the most pleasurable pain you hard every experienced. Oh you didn't want him to stop, never.

Your scream fades into a light whimper, grabbing onto Professor Farsi’s arm like its the only thing tethering you to this world.

“Sholeh ebdi man breath.”

He mutters against your skin, his tone gruff and hushed as he slowlly pulls his fangs from your shoulder.

Dragging his tongue against the bite wound cleaning off any blood, then pressing a soft kiss against your tender flesh.

You begin to come back to your senses and shove him away. Your hand clasps over your shoulder, confusion fogging your brain as you try to comprehend what had happened. You're breathing heavy, trying to catch your breath and calm your nerves from that…unique experience.

“You're a vampire.”

You mutter in a breathy whisper. Chest rising and falling rapidly. Your voice is mostly drowned out by the heavy rain, yet he nods as if hearing every word. As you look upon him you begin to notice subtle changes. You hadn't noticed this before but there seems to be a light in his eyes now, his face more flushed and less sunken. Overall he looked awake, alive, almost as if he had gotten a full night of rest.

“I must apologize Y/N. I do not normally loose control like this. But you just smelled…your blood smelled so sweet.”

He began to step closer to you once more causing you to back away frantically. You didn't trust him. How could you trust him? He kidnapped you, drugged you, and then bit you. Every single nerve in your body was on edge at his very presence. Slowly he lowered himself down to one knee, a hand extended.

“Oh Sholeh ebdi man, do not look at me like that. It breaks my heart.”

He was quick. Too quick for your eyes as he caresses your jaw with his cold finger. His eyes alone tell you everything you need to know. He wasn't going to let you go anytime soon.

“Professor Farsi please. I just want to go home.”

His brows furrow as you speak to him. The idea of you leaving him doesnt seem to agree with whatever he had in mind for you. But instead of addressing your ever so obvious kidnapping he flashes you a charming grin. Once you foundvyhis gesture comforting, only now to find secrets and whispers.

“My my Y/N, youre so formal. Please just call me Cyrus. It is the current name I go by.”

His hand slowly removed itself from your face. You key out a breath you didn't know you were holding. A sense of relief washing over you.

Cyrus sits down In a near by chair, he let out a longing sigh. Despite having you, his eternal flame, something seemed to be a burden. At the snap of his finger a crackle, similar to the fire sounds out, red sparks flashing from his fingers as another drink appears in his palm. Steadily fenesing its way into his finger tips. He brings the cup to his mouth and takes a large gulp.

“I can understand your hesitation when it comes to me. I should have asked for your concern instead of forcing my fangs upon you, it was uncuthe. Whether you choose to believe me or not, I am truly sorry for scaring you.”

While you are still on guard about being Locked in a room with Cyrus, you could sense some genuine sincerity. While he may mean what he says, you do not accept his apology. Not for what you've experienced.

“I cannot fathom the terror you're experiencing. I'll admit this was a impromptu desperate attempt to quench my thirst for blood and companionship.”

He grunts at his self reflection. A seemingly all time low for him. Like before, you blink and he's now at the window watching the storm rage outside. Despite his blood soaked chin and stained dress shirt, he looked stoic and ever so enchanting within the dim light of the fireplace.

“My dear Y/N. After this storm, I shall return you to you home if you wish.”

He shifts his weight and turns in your direction.

“But if you will allow me; I could show you things your silly lectures could never. I can teach you to hear the whispers of nature, read the stars to understand long forgotten secretes of the universe, guide you into the occult. Oh my love I could give you the world, but only if you allow me.”

Something about his words triggered something inside you. You have tried to live through the stories you have consumed all your life. Historical events, sci-fi, fantasy—you wanted to feel like you were a part of something bigger.

Now here he stood before you, a man, no, a being who could be the key to it all. His existence itself was proof there was more than what laid beyond the veil of the unknown.

“Do you promise?”

Your words came out hushed and desperate. The only reason you were in the field of academica was to live vicariously through your works. You finally had a chance to explore beyond your means and the limitations of research.

“Oh Y/N I can promise this and so much more. All you need to do is say the word and my boundless knowledge will become yours.”

‘This is bad. He wants nothing but to harm you Y/N. Leave while its still an option.’

The voice of reason in your head shouted. All of the alarms blared in your body but your curiousity was a curse in itself.

Who were you to give up such immense power? Who was anyone really?

“Can I have time to think about it?”

You ask. Figiting with your nails as you look Cyrus in the eyes. Those kind, beautiful, brown eyes.

The tension in your body begins to melt away the more you watch him. He was doing something to you, you could just feel it.

“Of course my love, we have eternity.”

Something about his words reminded you of candy. At first it’s sweet, it’s everything you wanted in the moment. Then you begin to taste the artificial chemicals and dyes, once a sweet treat now making you sick with its toxic stickiness. “I’ll be waiting for your answer Y/N. We may have eternity but I am far from a patient man.”

His sickly sweet voice dropped to a tone of seriousness. Maybe, just maybe he could detect your hesitation. A part of you wanted to stay yes, but every cell in your body is telling you to run far far away. He was a dangerous man, if you could even call him that.

“I..understand.”

Oh the battle between the heart and the mind is vicious and long. Here stands the man you craved, pinning after for years. Now that the opportunity presents itself, you feel uneasy.

Why you? Why did the one person you thought would understand you turn out to be an immortal blood sucking creature of the undead? You imagined every scenario between Professor and student yet none concluded to a supernatural twist.

Your eyes meet once more. You can feel your skin crawl seeing him you stare at you like that. Like he can see deep inside of you and is anticipating your every move. There was a stillness about him that made you uncomfortable. Almost as if he didn’t breathe.

The only thing you could do was excuse yourself, making that long trek back to the room you awoke in. The rain pounding against the manor, windows flashing with each surge of lighting. Your night gown flowing with each step.

He was following you. At least watching you. You could feel it.

When you finally reach the door to your room you spin around expecting him to be right behind you, but you find only cold still air.

(A/N: Part 3 coming soon!)

(should I start a tag list?)

@neuroticnickzero

@sunndust

@chainsprophet

[padsmoony04]

I don't know if someone had done it, but if they had, PLEASE tag me! But I needed to share this little thought I had about a JasonTodd×Reader little angst to comfort that is inspired to the master piece that "Would you fall in love with me again" is.

☆......................................☆.........................................☆

So what came to my mind was something in between the lines of...

☆......................................☆.........................................☆

RobinJason met the reader on his first day of high school after being adopted by Bruce. And that they became friends, but with time, Jason developed a crush on the reader and clinche enough they started daiting time afterward (Yes, high school sweethearts, friends to lovers, what about it?).

Everything was so sweet, Jason being all cute and loving and chamirn, thinking that the reader was really the love of his life at his only sixteen years old or whatever. But then, oh disgrace, Joker and his crowbar show up, and Jason dies, then his hole classic lore.

After his resurrection and everything that happened from then on, stop him from seeing the reader cause he was scared. He knew she saw the news or what people think about Red Hood, about his methods. So what if when he showed himself and the reader hated him and disliked him so much for who he is now? What if they rejected him? No, his already fragile and broken heart wouldn't be able to take that pain. It would truly be his last straw. He couldn't do it.

But well, he's a naturally and emotional, touched starved man. So at the end, his heart can't take it anyone, he needs to go and see reader, at least to say goodbye properly (or that's what he tried to fool himself into believing) cause the reality was that a small part of him just hoped and wanted to see if they would even, by any chance, take him back.

So there he is, sneaking into her place late hours. He knew she was awake cause the small light of her bedside table was on. (And here comes the most obvious part that it shows is epic inspired.)

With shaky and sweaty hands, a now tall, full of muscles, scars, and more broken than ever, Jason Todd is standing in front of the person he always saw as the love of his life. His voice was small, almost scared, saying her name. Reader turned around, startled not believing her eyes. "Jason? Is it really you?" And just like the song or very similar everything starts to unfold. He wanted to say goodbye, but he also felt like falling on his knees and crying and asking for forgiveness even though he didn't do anything wrong, at least not towards them. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide, he wanted to kiss and hug them and tell them how much he missed them.

But apart of him, the insecure and broken part of him was stronger, so he just stood a few feet away and spilled it all, how, according to himself he wasn't the same boy they felt in love with, how much of a moster he was, how undeserving he was but even so, he couldn't help but asked, all bitterness and self-hatred he had inside, "Would you even fall in love with me again? If you knew all I've done. The things I can't undo, would you even love me the same?"

With emotions bubbling up and the need to just hold him tight and shower him with the love and put his pieces back together, they did just that. Reader moved forward, slow and careful steps, saying so gently and so reassuring how much Jason meant and means to her poor heart. Maybe he wasn't perfect. Maybe he had done things he didn't feel very proud of but found necessary. Maybe he wasn't that cheeky boy with his few scars and bruises with a hopeful look to life that Robin brought, and Joker took away. It didn't matter at the end, when he had them and they would love him, no matter what.

☆......................................☆.........................................☆

ANYWAY, shitty ending, but that's the thought, if you are a writer and want and have the time and passion to take this rambling and turning into a masterpiece, feel free to do so.

Bye! ♡

☆......................................☆.........................................☆

[ladylooch]

Bones - Part 16 [Mack x David]

A/N: After part 15, I think pretty much EVERYONE asked for what's in this next part. How could you not? You all knew it would be this perfect. Nico, meet Nico 🥹 Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: post-partum healing, a lot of breastfeeding talk, and just overall Mack is still healing - nothing too graphic.

Steady breathing makes the tiny hairs around the part in Mack’s hair flutter with each in and out. The pressure of a chin keeps her forehead tucked into her husband’s throat. Strong arms are wrapped around her body, holding her tightly, not delicately like other men may after helping their wives give birth. Not Mack’s husband. He comes through stronger and firmer than ever. 

Mack puckers her lips against the rhythmic beating of his pulse in his throat. This causes him to stir a moment before the alarm on Mack’s phone sings, reminding them it is time for Nicky’s next feeding. David reaches around his wife, tapping the button to stop the noise from filling the room. He grunts as he settles back onto his left side, then he pulls her away from his chest, checking in on her. He smiles at her sleepy, scrunched look. 

Three hours, which is really two, between feedings is not enough time for Mack. She doesn’t care what the baby books say. But equally, the baby books don’t care about her sleep schedule. Nor do newborns.

“He is still asleep.” David mumbles sleepily. 

“We should all go back to bed.” Mack insists. She puts her forehead back on his throat, feeling it shutter with his laugh under her skin. 

“Gotta get this farm kid big and strong, mama.” David murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down her back. Mack smiles, chuckling then wincing at a sharp zing of pain from her stitches pulling. They have been getting stuck on her bulky, adult diaper. 

“Ow.” She huffs.

“What’s wrong?” David asks, alarm coating his voice. His hand settles at her hip, pulling her tight to him like he is ready to protect her from the pain. 

“My stitches.” She mutters. “They got caught.”

“Damn. I’ll get a new set up ready for you after I change our boy.” Mack can’t help but laugh.

“First you’ll change your son’s diaper. Then your wife’s.” She points out. David smiles down at her, seeing the vulnerability in those brown eyes that she’s trying to cover up with a joke. 

“I love you. And I love taking care of you.” Is his response followed by a firm but sweet kiss to her lips. “I’ll get him ready for you.” Then he is rolling away from her, striding around the bed to grab their son. When his dad picks him up, their son begins to whine and whimper. “I know, bubba.” David murmurs, bouncing him as he unswaddles the blanket. Mack watches the baby’s arms flail out, scraping at the air, then his face begins to turn, looking for his source of food. 

Mack unclips her nursing bra and shoves David’s big t-shirt up and over her shoulder. In the meantime, David changes Nicky’s diaper, then dresses him back up. He is so fast and sure with his movements. Mack smirks, thinking all that practicing on road trips with Connor helped turn him into a pro. She is still clumsy and awkward with her attempts.

She thinks, for the millionth time in a week, that their son is so lucky to have him as his daddy.

David yawns hugely then blows it out as he comes to her. 

“What side?”

“Right first.” She murmurs. That side feels the most swollen and uncomfortable. Her supply has come in well the last few days. As much as she hates waking up every few hours to feed him, her body needs her to. She worries once he starts sleeping through the night her boobs might explode by morning.

David maneuvers Nicky in his arms to be ready to feed from the right, then he places him in hers, ensuring she is ready before he moves his hands away. They both watch as their son eagerly latches. David clocks her wince, then stands up after a reassuring kiss to her temple. 

While Mack feeds Nicky, David wordlessly takes care of her. He goes out into the living room, finding her nipple cream. He comes back with that and a clean towel for her to clean up once Nicky is done. Then he brings her pump in with clean parts, incase she needs to let out more than the baby will eat. His third trip involves a few homemade snacks and a fresh tumbler filled with ice water for her. After that, he disappears into the bathroom. Mack can hear him opening and closing doors, lids being opened, then the scent of witch hazel floats out to her nose. 

Mack smiles, knowing he is preparing a new diaper for her. She giggles, thinking it’s so unsexy but she also knows that David gets off on taking care of her, especially when she has no choice but to let him. She is a strong independent woman through and through, but having a baby makes you need other people. She is glad it’s David that she can count on during this time.

Mack strokes Nicky’s cheek as he continues to feed, tracing his features. He has so much thick black hair, she’s convinced she could put it into a wale spout on top of his head. His nose has perfectly round nostrils and his little lips are a raspberry color with a fully plumped top lip. His cheeks have paled since he was born, losing the red and slightly rashy streaks from his fast birth. Those rashes left behind soft skin that she can’t stop running her thumb over. 

Nicky releases her skin in a quiet click of his tongue. After undressing her other side, Mack switches him. As he settles into that feed, she falls back into the pillows, raising her eyes to the doorway where David has stopped to watch her and their baby. Something about the way he looks at her has tears growing in her water line. She bites down hard on her bottom lip, but a squeaky groan comes out.

“What?” He asks tenderly.

“You looking at us like that.” She sniffs.

“Like what?”

“Like we hung your moon and stars.”

“Not we, baby. You.” He corrects her. Mack raises her gaze to his and sees the misty hue in his green eyes grow. “You will always be my first priority.” He pauses, letting those words hang in the air between them. Then he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, “Your diaper is on the bathroom counter.”

They both break out into loud laughter. Mack tightens Nicky to her chest so he can keep eating as David comes over. He cups her cheek then kisses her as they both try not to laugh to break the kiss.

“I love you.” She murmurs. "Thank you.” 

The new parents spend the rest of the feeding, watching their son eat. They both think multiple times that maybe Nicky is done, but then he begins again and they chuckle at being wrong. Babies are proving hard to figure out, but they both agree: “I’m glad we are figuring this out together.”

When he really is done, David takes him again, burping and changing him while Mack waddles to the bathroom. Peeing is as awful as it’s ever been. She cries thankful and hormonal tears as she pulls the fresh postpartum outfit up her legs. She sighs as the cooling sensation begin to coat her skin. Then the tiredness hits her. She stands in the bathroom for a moment, eyes closed, feeling grateful that she will get to go to sleep soon. She is sure she will pass out the second her head hits the pillow. Then she feels the wetness on the front of her shirt. Their son may be done, but there is still more to be expressed. So she tiredly crawls her way back to bed. David is just laying Nicky back down as she does that. She grabs the parts of her pump as he watches, eyebrows raised.

“Damn, hon.”

“I know.” She bites her lip, fumbling with the pieces a bit. David comes over, helping get the other one together before he hands it over for her to put on. Once they’re both in place, she turns them on, then lays back into the pillows. David scrubs at his bearded face, rounding the bed to lay back on his side. He yawns loudly, triggering a yawn from her too. He takes her hand, keeping them rested on her right thigh as she tries to blink way the bleariness from not enough sleep.

Ten minutes pass and she’s still needing to pump. She looks over at David who has his eyes at half mast. She slides her hand from his and runs it along his chest, letting it settle on his upper abdomen. 

“Go to bed, babe.”

“No. Not until you do.” He mumbles. 

“I’m fine.” She assures him.

“Good. That’s great. I’m still staying up with you.” His fingers find hers again, holding her hand against his abdominal muscles. She scratches her nails there, feeling his hairs curl and tangle beneath her fingers. 

“I think I’m done now.” She says to David, peeking down at the right one. 

“I’ll get you some containers.”

“Get two.” She quietly requests.

He comes back with both bottles and bags.

“I don’t know which one you want. There are like six, full bottles in the fridge right now.”

“Oh really? Um.” She scratches at her forehead, blinking. She looks up at him as if to say ‘I don't know what to do’. He chuckles, then gives her a sheepish shrug. “Maybe bags, so they can go in the freezer if we don’t get to them.”

“Seems reasonable.” He nods, crawling up her legs to help her carefully pour everything out of her pumps. Then he collects the used pumps, giving her a look when she tries to get up to follow him and help. “Go to sleep.” He calls over his shoulder as he heads to the kitchen. 

Mack waits for him, just like he would for her, then reaches for him the second his hip hits the bed. He collects his wife into his arms, both of them maneuvering back to where they were before the alarm went off. At this point, Mack knows it will ding again in two hours, but she’s too exhausted to think about sleeping rather than doing it. 

David’s chin is heavy against her head.

His breathing disrupts the baby hairs in her part.

And in thirty seconds, she’s gone again in a dreamless sleep.

- - - & - - -

The following Friday, a warm but pleasant breeze flows over the farm. The noise of the dry grass blowing about reaches Mack’s ears as she rocks a sleeping Nicky on the front porch swing. Mack breathes in the slightly sweet smell of corn in the air, smiling at the familiar tickle of a sneeze that wants to unleash from her nose. She was finally comfortable taking her allergy medicine again and has built up a decent tolerance that is helping her get through the summer hay fever.

Mack sets her feet on the ground for a moment, getting a nice swing to the porch bench again. To her right, a white truck comes into view. With how open the land is, it’s several more minutes before that truck will be pulling into their driveway. David had gone up to Des Moines to collect her parents from their New York flight. This is their first visit to the farm. Both Mack and David are excited to host them here. 

Butterflies of excitement tumble in Mack’s stomach, thinking about the incredible surprise she has for her parents. One that they are both eagerly awaiting without even knowing it. 

After Nicky had been born, David and Mack FaceTimed with her parents to show them their new addition. The two had melted at the sight of him, still all puffy and red from birth. Pure perfection they all decided. That’s what the newest Nico was. 

“So what do we call this little guy?”

“We’ll tell you when you get here.” Mack murmured. Her mom clearly resisted rolling her eyes. 

She can sass her daughter all she wants, but this is something to be spoken aloud in person. Mack wants to enjoy every flicker of emotion on her dad’s face when she tells him. David deserves that too. Naming him after her dad was his idea after all. 

It had been a quiet night, before they left New York. The soon to be parents had been throwing out random names to each other over the last few weeks. Some of them were an immediate no. Some of them went on a list on the fridge to think over more, but deciding on one together was difficult. Mack had stood at the list by the fridge, chanting names down at her belly, hoping the baby would kick to offer some sort of clarity for which one they should pick.

David came behind her and said “I have a new one we should put on there.”

Mack handed a pen over her shoulder to him. He reached around her, other hand still on her bump and spelled out her father’s name. Mack turned to look at him.

“If our son is even 10% of your dad, he’ll go far in life. We should give him that success to start with.”

Mack cupped David’s face, kissing him tenderly. They swayed back and forth in the kitchen with Nico kicking in her belly the entire time. 

The white truck slowly turns into the driveway. It’s covered now in brown dirt from the roads David had to travel to get to the main one. He waves at her from the driver’s seat. His white teeth are stark against the darkness in the cab. His black sunglasses cover his eyes but she can feel them soaking her and Nicky in on the front porch he loves. Mack looks down at their sleeping son then rises to her feet.

“Let’s go meet your grandparents.”

Pride swells in Mack’s chest as her parents step out of the truck. They both look around in awe, seeing the amazing land they own and work. David grabs her parents' suitcases out of the covered truck bed, then shuts the tailgate as Mack gets to the front of the truck. Her mom wraps her arms around her, holding her completely and kissing her temple. 

“Good job, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“It was really hard.” Mack tears up.

“Yeah. But you did it.” Nico fills in. He comes to the other side of Mack. “You’re our warrior, sweets.” She drops her head to his chest, then sighs, soaking in being held by her parents. Quietly, behind them, David brings their suitcases to the front porch, then makes his way back over to them. As her parents step away, David’s hand settles on her hip. Mack looks between both of her parents, then sets her eyes on her dad only. He smiles back at her. 

“I’m so glad that you two are finally here. Our son is too.” 

Eagerly, her parents drop their gaze to the sleeping baby in Mack’s arms. She maneuvers her hands under his butt and neck, then holds him out to her dad first. Nicky is dressed in a blue onesie with white stripes, on his crossed feet are crisp white socks that match his mittens. His thick black hair is blowing in the summer breeze and even though he looks like a Carlson, he is named after the man in front of them, staring in complete fascination. Nico’s lips part in awe, transfixed by his first grandson.

“Meet Nico Carlson.”

Lexi gasps, then turns to look at her husband. She presses her hand to his chest, then clutches her own over her heart. Nico raises his gaze off the baby to Mack and David.

“We named him after the best man we know.” David fills in. Mack nods in agreement to the words her husband says. 

Nico’s eyes drop back to the baby and immediate tears begin to clog the whole group up. Nico covers his mouth for a moment, then reaches out for the baby to take him into his hands. Mack carefully transfers him over. Nico holds his namesake in utter wonder. David’s hands run up Mack’s sides then across her still swollen abdomen, gently bringing her into his body fully. He kisses her head, both of them soaking in how much this obviously means to her father. 

Nico sniffs, then swallows heavily. He sighs next, holding the baby up, inspecting every bit of him. Then an unexpected, sly smile tilts his mouth up.

“Take that Timo!” 

Mack collapses forward, beginning to laugh so hard it hurts. She clutches her belly as she rises back up. Her dad tucks Nicky to one side of his body expertly and opens the other side for her. 

“I love you so much. Thank you for this. I’m so honored.. And humbled. Really. I can’t even say what this means to me.” His gaze goes to David and they share a curt but distinguished nod. Nico looks back down on the baby in his arms. “Wow, look at that hair. I thought you had a lot when you were born.” 

“Explains all the heartburn. Worth it.” She grins at her dad. “It’s so cute!” Her hand comes to stroke along Nicky’s thick hair. The baby stirs slightly, then starts to stretch.

“Oh!” Lexi exclaims.

While her parents obsess over the baby together, Mack turns to look at her husband. He stands in front of them, hands in his pockets, looking at their son with a proud smile on his face. His green eyes drag over to her and they share a special, knowing smile. 

“Should we go inside? Maybe you want something to drink or eat?” Mack suggests.

“We can go inside, but all I want to do is hold this boy of yours.” Nico admits.

“Don’t think because he has your name you get to hog him all day.” Lexi murmurs to her husband. “I need time with Mackie’s baby too.”

While her parents argue about a time limit with the newest baby in the family, Mack walks to her husband. She wraps an arm around his waist while his falls to her shoulders. They walk up the porch together. David presses a kiss to her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo for a moment. He releases her, grabbing her parents’ bags, then holding the door open with his foot for them all to walk through.

Mack hangs back, watching her parents walk to the couch, not even looking at the rest of their surroundings. They’re completely enamored with baby Nicky, just like Mack and David were. After putting their bags upstairs, David comes back to Mack. He pulls her in close. Mack rests her nose against his chest, closing her eyes as her husband’s hands rub up and down her back. 

Mack does her best to soak it all up, knowing this time is already going by so fast. 

“Can I get you to go sit down?” He murmurs. Mack nods, obliging because she is feeling tired again. She wanders over to the chair. David follows behind her with water and a granola bar. He sits between her legs on the floor, back resting against the chair. He brings her left leg down, over his shoulder where he begins to massage it. 

For the rest of the afternoon, Mack and David watch the Hischiers fall in love with their boy.

- - - & - - -

“Hellooooooo New York!” Stella Wood barks out of the truck as she opens the back door. Mack immediately begins to laugh.

“She watched Hannah Montana when mom was in town.” Lucie yells to her sister. 

Three days after Nico and Lexi head back to Switzerland, the Wood party has arrived in town. Lucie is the first one fully out of the car. She rushes towards Mack then gathers her up in her arms. Careful of the baby between them, Lucie squeezes Mack tight.

“You are so amazing.” Lucie exclaims incredulously. “I can’t get over the entire story of you bringing this boy into the world.” She shakes her head. “Also, I’m dying to know his name.”

“We named him after the best man we know.” Mack says the same thing David told her father. Lucie pauses, eyes searching Mack’s. Then her entire face lights up with joy.

“Nico Carlson?”

“Mhm.” 

“Oh my god, did dad lose it?”

“Yeah,” Mack chuckles, becoming teary as Lucie does too. 

“Mackie, what an amazing way to honor daddy.” Lucie rubs at her sister’s back, then turns to look down at her nephew. “Oh. Wow. You really hit copy and paste on your husband, huh?” Lucie giggles. “Connor brought him a little mustache. It’s so funny and cute.”

“We are calling him Nicky.” Mack tells her. 

“Nicky…” Lucie trails off as she takes the baby into her arms. “Oh I am in love with him.” Lucie looks back at Mack with fresh tears. She wraps her arms around her sister and they both quietly share a moment together. 

The boys come walking up with the little Wood girls, climbing the porch loudly. Lucie and Mack step apart. David collects his son to show Connor. Winnie peaks over at Nicky from David’s arms.

“Imma hold him.” She announces.

“Okay.” David laughs. “Should we go inside first?”

“Yeah.” She nods, attempting to lead the way.

The group wanders into the farm house. Mack directs Connor to the stairs for him to bring all their things up. Mack collects her son back from her husband so he can help. Lucie goes into the kitchen and grabs some water for Stella who is complaining about being parched. David brings Winnie over to the couch and Mack follows behind. She lays their son in his father’s arms, then heads to her big, comfy chair across the room.

Winnie snuggles into David’s side then sighs happily, looking down at her cousin.

“Bay-beeee.” She coos excitedly.

“Yep. Baby Nicky.” David brushes her curls out of her eyes. Lucie comes over to Winnie, quickly wrestling a clip into her hair to pin it back from her face. “He is my bay-beeee?” David chuckles.

“Auntie Mack and I’s baby.” He tells her. “But we can share.” Winnie beams up at him.

The two of them stay like that until an antsy Connor Wood stops pacing the back of the couch. He rounds it, waiving his fingers for the baby to be given to him.

“Come here, little dude.” Connor gathers him from David’s arms. He holds him like a 2x dad with one hand, easily, fluidly, not worried about the freshly born bones in the baby’s body. “Luuuuuuc.” Connor groans.

“No.” She glares playfully at him.

“Look at him! Look at the babies this family makes!” He holds Nicky up to her. Lucie swoons on her feet, rubbing her hand over Nicky’s thick, black hair. 

“Mack makes gorgeous babies.” 

“Yeah, we might be in trouble.” David chuckles, then winks across the room at his wife. She is curled into her chair, sucking on a glass of ice water and eating a sandwich David made for her from the fridge. She pauses chewing, then shakes her head no.

“Let’s give it a bit, eh?” She says after swallowing her food. The entire house erupts in laughter. 

“You didn’t like giving birth in a truck?” Lucie asks curiously.

“Really looking forward to the hospital for the next one.” Mack admits.

“Good news! She’s open to another!” Lucie cheers, patting David’s arm. “Mackie, do you need anything?” The dryer buzzes as the cycle ends. “I got it! Nobody else move.” Lucie insists, then goes to flip the baby clothes and cloths. She comes back with a basket of clean laundry, folding it up on the couch by Mack. “You’re doing great.” Lucie tells her. “I knew you two would be such great parents together. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, Luc.” Mack murmurs. She leans forward to grab a onesie and Lucie swats at her hand.

“Just chill. Enjoy the help while you have it.” Mack nods. Lucie would know all about this stage. Mack soaks up anything Lucie is willing to tell her about and help her through. “How are you?” Lucie asks quietly.

“Good.” 

“Things are healing okay?”

“Yes.” Mack nods. “Breastfeeding is hard.” Lucie nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah.”

“I’m afraid of getting mastitis.” Mack looks Lucie over who shakes her head, widening her eyes.

“It’s no joke. Take it seriously. One minute I was a little off and then suddenly everything hurt.” Mack looks at her with worry. “You know your body, Mack. I knew something wasn’t quite right and ignored it. It cost me. Also, tell David. Once I started expressing out loud how uncomfortable I was and Connor started monitoring me too, it because obvious quickly that something was wrong and I needed to see the doctor. You’re in this together and he is a helper. He wants to do this entire journey with you as much as possible.”

“That’s true.” David says as he comes over. Nicky is in his hands, beginning to fuss. “There is milk in the fridge if you want me to try a bottle with him instead?”

“No, I’ll take him.” Mack lets David drop their son into her arms. She leans back in the chair then gets Nicky settled onto her right side. David kisses Mack’s head watching to make sure they both get settled into the feeding okay, then he heads into the kitchen with her empty water cup.

“Y’all wanna go see some more of the land?” David calls out.

“Yeah!” Stella yells. “Can we go see the horses!?!?!?”

“Yes ma’am.” David nods. “You’re gonna need different shoes, princess.” He walks back into the living room, dropping Mack’s water off.

“I’ll come to!” Lucie exclaims. Mack smiles at her, grateful that her and David both recognize she could use some quiet time with Nicky.

The Wood family gets the appropriate shoes on then heads out into the summer heat. Lucie yells after Stella that she does in fact need sunscreen, despite her attempts to get away. Mack chuckles as David hangs back for a moment.

“That’s gonna be us with him.”

“Us? Try me.” Mack rolls her eyes. He hasn’t worn sunscreen a day in his life. He smiles at her in a way that makes Mack begin to tear up. “I love when you look at me like that.”

“Good. Cause you’ll be seeing it for the rest of your life.” He throws her an air kiss. “You good?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, enjoy your quiet, honey.” He tosses his hat on his head, then steps out of the house, closing in the silence behind him. 

Mack looks down at Nicky eating and rubs her thumb over his forehead.

Just her and her boy. 

It’s all she wants right now.

Read more Mack and David here.

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Sweater

Dean Winchester x GN!Reader

Summary: You find Dean's sweater after a long day.

Warnings: child death, description of injuries; bruises, melting children, main character death, angst, little fluff, more angst, no happy ending

Word Count: 1k

Notes: This is my first time writing for Supernatural so please excuse me if it's bad.

Request: Yes

You walked through your room, into the bathroom and undressed. You reached into the shower and adjusted the knobs, hoping the scalding water would burn everything away. Once the temperature was just right you stepped in, the force of the water gushing against your back like a waterfall. It started to melt away your day but it could never wash away the pain. You though back to what you had seen, what no one should ever see, children. Children engulfed in flames. You remembered looking into one child's eyes. You saw beautiful hazel, a perfect synchronicity of icy blue and emerald green eyes melt out of their sockets. You saw their skin start to redden, then bubble, then slide off their bodies. You watched them collapse into puddles before being taken over by the blaze completely. You watched the fire turn them into little blackened chunks and ash. You watched and didn't do a thing. You couldn't. Or at least that's what you told yourself.

You stood in the shower and ran your hands over your body, trying but failing, to get all the blood off. Most of it was the blood of demons. Some of it was yours, some your friends and some that of innocent children. You got a sponge, lathered with soap, and started to run it over your body. You scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to get the blood stains out of your skin. You scrubbed further, scraping up skin cells, but you didn't stop. You kept scrubbing, harder and faster, trying to scrub your skin off, trying to get new skin that hadn't been soaked in children's blood. You tried to rid yourself of the impurity. You kept scrubbing harder and harder until you started to bleed.

Standing in the shower you could only fight back your tears for so long, finally letting go. A few drops rolled down your cheeks, so few that they blended with the water shooting at you. Then came more, more tears until they were pouring down your cheeks, it felt like they were threatening to fill the shower and drown you, something you would have welcomed. Tears so powerful you thought their tracks may stain you forever. It was all too much. You fell to your knees and let out an almost primal, animalistic, roar-like scream. You screamed until you though your lungs might burst. You just sat on your knees in the shower and held you self as you cried like a baby. Letting what you could out now, knowing that the moment you stepped out of your room, you'd have to bottle it all back up and pretend everything was fine.

You stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror, looking at all of your injuries. You could see your eye already turning a dark purple surrounded by patches of yellow. Your hands were still stained red, it would probably never come off. Bruises and cuts littered your body, a few cuts were still weeping. You noticed the bruising around your ribs had gotten bigger, the whole area looked like it was pressed against you, trying to get out. You pressed a finger, lighter than a feather, to the area and immediately winced.

You entered your bedroom and that's when you saw it. His sweater. The sweater you gave him so many years ago. You tried to get him to throw it out so many times.

"Dean, it has four holes in it"

"Clothes are meant to have holes, babe"

"Arm holes! Not chest holes"

"But 's comfy"

"There's only half of it left"

"It's airy?"

You laughed "Airy? It'd blow away in a light breeze"

"Smartass"

You gasped when his hands wrapped around your waist and he pulled you down. You landed on top of him and laughed. He held you tight and craned his neck up for a kiss.

"If you throw away the sweater"

"No way"

"You're being even more stubborn than usual, you know that?"

"Yes I do" He said with a swift shake of his head.

"Why do you want to keep it so bad?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Dean"

"Promise?"

"Promise"

"You gave it to me"

"I did"

"Well 's the first thing you gave me" He muttered quietly.

"Baby" You purred in that low tone he loved "You are such a sap"

"Hey! Am not!"

"Are too"

You peppered little kisses down his neck making him shut up, for a second.

"Am not"

"Are" You spoke between kisses "Too"

"Am-"

He was cut off by your lips on his. You kissed him deeply, with so much love and affection that he feared he didn't deserve you. Soon your kisses became more passionate, his hands clawed their way up your back. Your hands flew up to cup his face in your palms. You pulled away breathlessly and started into his eyes.

"Are too"

"Maybe a little bit, for you" He smirked when saying the last two words all in a smug tone.

"I love you"

"I love you, with all my heart"

"You always have to one up me"

"And you always have to get the last word"

"No I don't"

"You just did it"

"I did not"

"Oh you so did"

"I-"

You were cut off by his lips before you could finish the word, Dean's plan exactly.

You stood over that same couch, holding that same sweater, but nothing was truly the same. You were there, the sweater was there but he wasn't.

You pulled it on over your head and snuggled into the soft, fraying wool. You curled up on the couch in a little ball and buried your face into it, smelling him. Tears streamed down your face yet again, soaking the sweater.

Tags:

@pinkthick @craftytacopiecash @meryuniverse @aliljaybird @dianawinchester03 @macbaetwo @castielshunterwife @scarletluvsdanno

[orienteddreamerrr]

John Wick Valentine’s Day Drabble:

(Y’all gonna love this!)

John Wick X Fem Reader

John already knew what today will bring. Will it bring him grief? Would it bring him pain? Or will it bring him some happiness? Ever since he lost his wife, he had always turned to you for comfort. Sometimes for more. And with it being Valentine’s Day, he wants to treat you. He rolls up to your house in his mustang exiting the driver’s side holding a bouquet of flowers and a small gift bag. As he comes to your doorstep, giving it a knock, you were able to open it, finding him handing you the flower bouquet, smiling a small smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day…”, he greets you, as you can’t help but smile back and take the flowers from him. “Aw John…you didn’t have to do this…”, You see John shake his head a little. “Just showing appreciation…for someone who has been by my side…even through the most dangerous situations…I couldn’t have asked for a better ‘partner’…”, You felt like tearing up at this as you put the flower bouquet off to the side before going up to wrap your arms around him, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. After a moment, he pulls away as he hands you the small gift bag. Taking it, he gives you the “okay” to see what’s inside. As you do, you find a small velvet box as you take it out, putting the bag off to the side, feeling your heart racing out of nowhere. Opening the velvet box, you see it was a ring, the size of it to fit your ring finger. Your eyes widen a bit. “Wait…you’re not…”, You look to meet John’s gaze as his smirk was growing into a proud one, nodding his head slowly as he kneels down onto one knee. “Yes…I am…will you marry me?”, You felt your eyes watering as you can’t help but say yes, watching him stand back to his feet, his own eyes were watering as he takes the ring from the box, taking your left hand to slip the ring onto your finger. You felt like you were floating as you hug on him again, feeling him hug back as he just pulls away a little to kiss you, his lips pressing up against yours as you kiss him back, knowing he was your Valentine…and going to be your future husband!

Who would be interested???

@scarlettspectra

@johnwickb1tsch

@treedaddymcpuffpuff

[boxwinebaddie]

this selena cover is the cd song ever of all time jysk :*

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

your perception of itafushi. my beloved. my favorite little barbie dolls that gege loves to wind up. i miss them.

like the idea of yuuji being so jealous over megumi? the sunshine himbo…losing it at the sight of megumi smiling at this perfect little asshole who is totally hiding under an anxious mess facade. there’s no way someone could have it all and their this good guy. yuuji is waiting for the day yuuta messes up i just know it.

even with yuuji finally understands their dynamic i just know that those two have subtle competitions over megumi attention. like…it gets to the point where throwing cars at each other is the norm. (cue nanami being horrified at his legal and emotional children throwing cars at each other over a child of gojo. like yes he adores megumi. but somehow this is all gojo fault. don’t ask nanami how.)

BUT THE IDEA OF THE ZENINS BEING SO YUUJIPHOBIC? like the idea of them shuddering at the idea of megumi fucking around with the vessel of sukuna? that they had to set a bounty on him just to keep him away from their precious runaway heir? i just know mai pops out to the school just to bitch about megumi and his boyfriend being like modern day romeo and juliet.

i also love to imagine sukuna being a firm zenin hater. like he’s not even willing to eat them. he firmly believes that all of them taste like shit. especially naoya.

See I just love the idea of Yuuji being jealous over Megumi but exclusively when it comes to Okkotsu Yuuta. He’s legitimately not a jealous person. He’s never been jealous of anyone before in his life. He’s deeply secure in what he has with Megumi and knows that Megumi likes him back and that there’s no need to be worried or upset about Megumi having close relationships with other people. He wants Megumi to have close relationships outside of him.

But the universe fucking bends to give that perfect beautiful bastard everything Yuuji has ever dreamed of.

It’s a new experience for yuuji. He’s not used to experiencing jealousy. He’s literally never done it before. But there’s this impossibly gorgeous and perfect man swanning around out there getting his death sentence overturned and having his curse royalty unattach from his body in sparkling globes of light and having Nanamin legally adopt him as his actual child and having Megumi be His Boy and apparently it’s universally acknowledged* that Megumi is still Yuuta’s Boy despite Yuuji going to Herculean efforts to lock that shit down. He has assassins trying to kill him because it’s universally agreed** that his boyfriend is out of his league, apparently, and his boyfriend is still someone else’s Boy.

It does not help that when the Assassin Problem first appears yuuji wants to go to Gojo and Megumi decides he cannot take that level of humiliation and suggests going to Yuuta first. Which makes Yuuji insist that no no, he can handle a few assassins. No need to bother any impossibly beautiful upperclassman about it who are apparently better than Yuuji in every way. He’s got this on his own. Nooo problem.

Megumi stares at him for three unbroken seconds and goes to ask Yuuta for advice about it, which results in the second years going off to unilaterally threaten the Zenin clan, which none of the first years ever find out about.

Sukuna absolutely does hate the Zenin clan and it’s specifically because they did not consider him when putting a bounty on yuujis head. He’s a firm believer in knowing your worth and he knows his fucking worth. Sorcerers used to have style. They used to have respect. What the fuck is this. The Zenin are not worth dog shit on his heel. He’ll kill them all.

*universally acknowledged by everyone except Megumi, who still does not know that people call him that

** universally agreed by everyone except Todo, who thinks his brother is a beautiful beautiful man that anyone would be lucky to court and that Fushiguro is a boring child with a nonexistent ass who has inexplicably bewitched a gorgeous specimen of manhood.