#But still now that we're in touch again he's been coming out with me again

[jamiedc-they-them]

Good People Part IV: Safety in Numbers (Platonic)

Summary: A new friend joins you on your travel for this infamous head. A vault gives you a moment of safety. But, like always, the world comes crashing down around you. But this time, it's not just you that it collapses for.

Episodes 5/6/7.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

"Should we wake them up?" Maximus, the Knight you had saved - and the one who had saved Lucy - asks as he sees you slumped against a pillar, eyes shut. It hasn't been too long since he had gotten out and saved your friend, and yet you found yourself drifting off.

Lucy looks back to you, You look peaceful. For once, you don't look at war with yourself.

There's a feeling she has inside. For a moment, it reminds her of how she is with her brother - loving, protective; but most of all, accepting.

"I think a few more minutes won't hurt them. I think they need it. Haven't really seen them rest yet."

Maximus nods. He knows he needs the head and all, but he can also understand Lucy's reasoning. This place isn't kind to anyone, and having your guard down isn't the greatest thing. But, you do seem to need it at this moment. That, and you did save him, so.

Lucy gets him to agree to have you both accompany him to find the head. 'Safety in numbers' she says. He can't exactly argue with that; after all, without you two, he'd still be in the suit - or dead.

Maximus packs up his things. Lucy gets up and approaches you, crouching down in front of you. She lightly taps you on the arm.

"Y/N. Y/N, wake up," she says, keeping her voice soft. She keeps her taps quick, respecting the boundary with touch.

You jolt, then seem to calm down as you open your eyes. The first thing you do, she clocks, is check the area around you both.

She smiles, "made good on my promise," she teases, "no urination for you, my friend."

Friend. It feels nice to say it now and know it goes both ways. You're friends. Maybe Maximus can be one, too. Still, one step at the time.

You snort, eyes softening as you look to her, "that you did," you say, standing up - she mirrors you - as you then stretch a bit, "thank you."

"I should really be the one thanking you," she says, "it's you who got me the help."

You shrug off the thanks - still not there with that, it seems; ok, she can work with that - and roll your shoulders, "was all the Knight. I just got him out of the suit."

She wants to argue in your honour, but doesn't. Like said before, she can work with this. Baby steps.

"We're gonna be travelling with him," she says to you, "he needs the head too. So, I figured, someone else looking out for us can't hurt, right?"

You don't seem too sure at first, then nod.

You all go on your way, Lucy asking about what had happened in the last 200 years, as if either of you can summarise that.

"People in charge did what they always do," you say, "they chose power over lives."

"Sounds a bit like a red to me," Maximus says.

You shrug once again, "maybe. Still, ain't exactly patriots out here to shoot me for it."

Lucy looks at you concerned, Maximus shakes his head. You're an odd one, but you're honest. So, he respects that.

You come to a bridge, with two people on the other side. Lucy tries to calm the situation down. You and Maximus, seemingly reading each other, get ready. You stand in front, no weapons, but you'll go down first and give him time to draw.

It works, and part of you believes that it just might work, too. But, the inevitable happens; the fiends see the pipboy on Lucy's arm, and they draw. Your instinct was correct; Maximus draws Lucy's weapon, and gets a shot off. A shot hits his arm, you move Lucy back, just to be safe - it all happens quick, but you still manage too - and he then fires the second round off.

"I hate it up here," Lucy laments.

"Don't we all," you say, looking to Maximus, "your arm ok?"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," Lucy protests, "you've been shot!"

"I'll be fine," he says, "let's just keep going."

Lucy looks to you. You sigh, nodding at your friend, before looking to the Knight:

"Look," you say, "we'll keep going," you put a finger up to stop Lucy before she says anything and continue, "but, we'll also keep a look out for a stimpack, or something for that wound, ok?"

Maximus nods, going with the diplomatic solution.

"See?" you say, "not so bad for a red, huh?" Maximus snorts at your tease. He shakes his head. Sure, he'd probably disagree with a lot of your views on things, but you're good as a person - hell, you gave him the space he needed for that interaction. He decides then and there to trust you.

The three of you continue. You reach Shady Sands, and Maximus tells you about how he was from here. He was a survivor, and how the Brotherhood gave him a purpose.

You might fully like the Brotherhood - at least in what you've seen; a company like that with brutality will always go wrong in your eyes - but Maximus is a good man, even if tortured.

You look from the massive hole, to Lucy. To your friend who gave you a purpose - at least for a little bit. You gulp.

You were bad luck. Hell, you even hit your head when Lucy first said 'hello' to you. You're a magnet for trouble. Yet, she stuck with you. Fought for you in your honour. She stuck by you when others would've left.

You find what you think is a hospital. Lucy enters, you follow, then Maximus does.

You split up, trying to find what you can.

You find some caps. Maybe your luck really is turning.

You hear a scream. Lucy's scream. You run out, back into the lobby area, and barge through a door...only to find that apparent adjoining one is fake.

You feel the floor give out from under you...

You wake up in a startle. For once, no dreams haunting you.

"Good, you're up," you hear a voice say. You turn, alert. It's a woman. She holds up her hands, "look, I understand the concern," she says, "but, we're not a threat. We're not a threat. We have your other friends. They asked about you."

So, they're alive, you know that at least.

"You're Y/N, right?" the woman asks. You nod, now noticing the blue jumpsuit...there's no way, "I'm Birdie," she says to you.

You approach the window, and look out at everything. It's all so clean and...nice. Everyone smiles.

You look back to Birdie, who seems to be waiting for you to ask, "are we -- I mean...is - is this a -"

"A Vault?" she asks, smile on her face - seems your instinct was right, "it is," she confirms, nodding as well.

You nod, taking it all in.

"Now," Birdie says, we kept you in there to make sure you weren't radiated or anything. But, all seems clear. You're free to see your friends. We'll get some food in you, then show you to your room."

"My room?"

She nods again, "welcome to Vault 4."

You are let out, and look over the railing at the place. It's like a community all onto itself.

Lucy spots you, and instantly beams, calling out your name and giving a wave. You wave back, before making your way down to join them.

Lucy gets up, and gives you a hug. You stumble a bit, but soon find yourself being ok with it.

"I'm glad you're ok," Lucy says.

You tap her on the back, and she pulls away - seemingly understanding your code language for 'too much'. She nods, "come eat."

You sit down, Maximus and you sharing a nod. Birdie, and then Ben - the overseer, come over and introduce themselves. You cant help, though, but notice Ben's one massive eye. No one else seems to bat on eye. And, hell, you've seen your fair share of mutations out in the Wasteland - as Maximus says, it happens. But, Lucy seems more disturbed.

You, however, let yourself feel a positive emotion for once - it doesn't feel natural to you - and it's a feeling of safety.

"Lucy," you say, "we're in a vault, that's gotta be something, right?"

"I - I want it to be," Lucy says, "but...Y/N, my Vault fell. I don't want - I don't want it to happen anywhere else."

"That's fair," you say, voice soft and distant; you both have your trauma's, and both have similar reactions with it - wanting to do all you can for it to not occur again.

Yours was isolation, her's seems to be more vigilance.

Still, she softens as you look around in awe at the place. Maximus clears his plate, before looking to you.

"Hey," he calls out. You look to him, "after we finish, did you wanna go see our rooms? I think they should be near each other?"

You look to your plate - at the actual full meal in front of you that you've barely touched. It feels wrong, eating this amount of food, but you've been given it. They have given it to you. And it would be rude to not take them up on this.

You look to Maximus, your new friend, and nod. He smiles, bright. You do too.

Lucy looks between you both. She's still unsure, something in the back of her mind telling her that something isn't right; but, she then sees you both and your eagerness for this place. To her, it felt like a homecoming; to you, it was a new world with a whole new set of rules to understand - and, god, the eager look you both had; the conversations you both have as you finish your own food. She doesn't interrupt you, she just lets you both talk, and that, that is what makes her feel that humanity may just make it through this to the other side; connections. Friendship.

She turns down the offer to go up with you both, saying that she'll catch up, but wishes you both the best. Her smile is honest, but you don't see the way it struggles to stay up right. She wants to best for you, she does really, but that voice in the back of her head won't leave you alone. It seems that, here anyway, it's not there for you - but instead now for her - and so she'll follow it.

You're her friends. She has to look out for you both.

Maximus is right, your rooms are next to each other. Everyone is so nice here. They smile and wave. They say 'hello' and pass you by and leave you be. No one tries to take things from you. No one has an ulterior motive. Everyone is just kind.

That, and no one pisses on you, so that's a win in your book.

Maximus give you a nod and a 'see you later' before entering his own room. Your door opens. You flinch at the hiss it makes, but Ben just assures you that it's ok.

You enter, and it shuts behind you. Ben explains how to reopen the door. He even demonstrates it for you, before leaving you to get acquainted with it.

It's bright. Colourful and expressive. There's no dirt on anything. There are clothes left out for you. Even a kind of gown. You take off your clothes, and enter the bathroom. You see a shower, you turn it on. It works. There is a heat that hits you. It's comforting. You put yourself fully under it, letting it wash over you fully, before you start using some soap to clean yourself. It smells nice. You could get used to this.

You get out of the shower, getting changed into your new clothes. You feel something on your cheek. You put a hand to it and wipe. Puling away, you see a tear.

More come after that. A mix of happy and sad emotions all hitting you at once. You've never let yourself feel. You've never been able to. But, here you are, letting yourself have a moment. To process fully all that you've been through. All you've lost, and what you've gained in such a short amount of time.

You hear a knock on your door. You open it, it's Lucy. She looks concerned, out of breathe. Just a mix of things.

She enters, shutting the door behind you.

"Y/N, I - I think..." she pauses whatever she was about to say, seeing your state, "what happened?" she asks.

"I, uh," you say, "I don't know," you wipe some stray tears, "just - just something dumb. Nevermind -"

"It's not dumb," she assures. She has so much suspicion for this place, and yet her first concern is you.

There's a beat of silence. She waits. Despite the anxious thoughts on her findings. She waits.

"It's just..." you look to the floor for a second, before back up to her, "it's a lot," you confess, "all of this. I smell good, Luce. I don't -" you shut your eyes, seeing the memories you are used to seeing, "this is a good thing. A nice place. Nice people."

She nods, wanting for you to go on, "and I don't - I don't know how to feel about it."

She turns her head to the side, watching as you struggle with your words - so, she says a few of her own, "you deserve good things, Y/N."

You scoff, looking back up at her with your arms folded and back hunched, "maybe," you say, not fully believing it, "but...least I'll have you, right?" your walls are down fully. Emotions on your sleeve. Assurance, that's all you want.

"Always," and she gives it. It's instant, too, tone serious. Your lip wobbles.

"Even after we find your dad?"

She nods, eyes firm, "I'll do whatever I need to, to get you guys a spot in my vault. You'll be safe there. I promise."

A few more tears slip, and you nod. You let yourself have this. Something good. Something to hope for.

Then --

"'Your vault'?"

She nods, hating to have to crush your hope a bit, "there's something wrong here, Y/N. They're - They're talking about Shady Sands. They celebrate Moldaver!" she says to you in a whisper yell.

Your eyes widen.

"Look," she says, putting hands on your arms, "I will fix this. I won't leave you behind. But, you deserve something good, Y/N, and I mean that. Even for a little bit longer."

You look at her, eyes shinning with new tears - one of worry for her.

"I will be fine," she promises, "I know Vaults. I did engineering there. That, and I can take care of myself."

You never doubted that, but still, "but, safety in numbers."

She nods, "I know. But, like I said, I know vaults. I know where to go and how to get there. Before this all comes crashing down, you deserve some piece of mind. Just, keep an eye on Maximus, ok?"

You nod. You can do that.

"Be safe," is all you ask her.

She nods, giving your arms a squeeze, "always am."

"One hundo percento?"

She smiles. There she is, "one hundo percento."

"Okey Dokey."

Her smiles softens, "Okey dokey."

With that, she's gone. Determined now more than ever.

She knew her feelings for Maximus, the word for them. An attraction. But you, it was a deep platonic love. A similar one to Norm.

If this was before everything she'd seen, she'd name it gladly. Fami-

But, she wasn't that person. She was still Lucy Maclean to her core, but something had shifted in her. Something broke. She'd always help if needed, but there was an edge now. A voice in the back of her head that told her that all was not well. It did with her father and Moldaver. She hated it, the doubts it plagued her with. She kept walking, though.

So, when it came to your friendship, she refused to use the familial term. Just in case.

It does go wrong. But, not entirely as she expected it to. These people were victims, who killed their oppressors.

She'd read stories of people like this. She idolised them. And yet, now, she was the one doing the oppressing. The one doing the judging.

She knew her sin. She understood it, clear as day. Still, you both had done nothing wrong. Nothing at all. You'd both just lived above ground with shit luck to life.

So, despite having like no leverage, all she asks is simple.

"Can my friends stay?"

And, to her surprise - once the initial shock of them not killing her, and even giving her supplies for above - they say yes.

She's glad. She's done that right at least --

BOOM! BOOM! BANG! The sounds of Maximus in the armour reverberate off the walls, before a gunshot goes off from a rifle. You're both here. 'Saving' her.

"No, no, no, no, no!" She calls out to you both. But you're too caught up. Too caught up in trying to save your friend, that you don't even notice said friend trying to stop you.

You don't get far, but there is still some damage done. You may have smashed a window to get to the weapon. And Maximus may of stolen the fusion core for the armour.

"Guys!" Lucy calls out. It works on getting your attentions, "I'm ok!" she assures you, "look! look!" she gestures to herself, "no injuries! They were even giving me stuff. Look!" she says, grabbing an item that was inside the crate they have, "they aren't the bad guys. They're the victims!"

It really takes the winds out of your sails. You and Maximus both look to each other, before you both in sync say a single thing:

"Sorry."

With no arguments from any of you, you are banned from the Vault. Lucy looks to you and Maximus; him with the core, yourself with the weapon. Finally a -

"We need to give them back," Lucy says. You both look at her like she's mental.

"I mean it," she says, "we're not bad people. We don't just steal. Especially not after something like that."

"We tried our best," you say, folding your arms like a child being reprimanded.

Lucy rolls her eyes, "I know, and I thank you for your courage in your actions," she says, "but, the circumstances did not require them. They're good people. They need all the help they can get. Plus," she says, bringing out her pistol, "I have this."

You whine, leaning back and shutting your eyes, "but I want a weapon!!"

Lucy rolls her eyes again, "You can still fight, Y/N. You don't need a gun for that. We have each other, and our wits. And," she says, looking between you both, "once we're done, you won't need a weapon again. We'll be safe in the Vault. Trust me."

You and Maximus look to each other. You both sigh, then nod. He takes out the core; you open the door for him and you both deposit your items. You hear a 'thank you!' from below.

"There," she says, "how'd you feel?"

"Vulnerable," you say, gaining a third eye-roll.

"That's not a bad thing," she says.

"I don't mean the emotional kind."

She shrugs, "I know. But, we'll be ok. We have each other, and soon we will have the head. Then we'll be free."

Maximus looks to you. You just gesture for him to go ahead of you. He does, after giving you a pat on the shoulder.

You sigh, taking your own leave. Lucy watches you both leave. She nods, taking a steady breath.

"Okey Dokey," she says, before following after you.

You've done a good thing, she's happy that it's gone well. That, for once, an interaction out here has gone well and ended happily for everyone.

She just hates that voice in the back of her head. That doubt. That fear. That hesitation.

You're her friend. Her best friend, she'd wager. Someone she'd burn down a vault for - hell, she almost did - but there was also that voice in the back of her head. One that said to watch out. To not get fully attached.

There was a dark cloud in her mind. One she didn't quite know how to get rid of.

But, she knew one thing.

You had her, and she had you.

All the way, no matter what.

[dbphantom]

LUFFY CHARM'S CHAIN SNAPPED 😭😭😭

[brokenhardies]

tbh as a six fan i feel so bad for thirteen fans

bc there are a lot of thirteen fans who are willing to defend shitty writing and poor decisions bc thirteen's their favourite doctor and there's no other way to say she's their favourite bc thirteen has only been off the air for 2 years at this point. thirteen also has the bonus problem of being the first female doctor which means a lot of her criticism is clouded by misogyny and other icky incel alt right shit

meanwhile with six, a lot of his problems had the benefit of the wilderness years, big finish, the expanded universe, and even people looking back at his doctor and realising that there was some good in his episodes. a lot of his fans didnt become his fans until recently and even most of his haters are quite clear that they hate the writing decisions and not the actor himself

like until jodie gets some good material - maybe big finish? theyre doing fugitive doctor and dhawan master stuff that might improve the problems with those - a lot of thirteen fans are going to be clutching at straws and trying to figure out why they like her and how to say so in a way that won't upset the predominantly male fandom, as well as won't disagree with common and very bloody obvious criticisms of chibnalls era

[ddejavvu]

wait your new hotch blurb got me thinking what about they got secretly married and everyone knows that hotch is married they just don’t know it’s to bau!reader because he seemed very genuine in the wanting privacy so (after complaining) they respected that, and maybe one of the team members sees hotch and bau!reader kissing in the hallway of a hotel or something and confront him about cheating on his wife

"How could you cheat on your wife?"

Penelope's harsh, degrading accusation hits Aaron directly in the chest, through the layers of stoicism that he's come to forge over the years of working in criminal investigation and straight to his heart.

All Hotch can manage is a, "What?", and Penelope's eyes dim further.

"Don't do that, Hotch. I saw you. I saw you and Y/N kissing in your office. How could you do that to your wife?"

She looks so crestfallen that Aaron's chest actually aches, so unprepared to see the famously bubbly Penelope Garcia close to tears. Close to tears because of him, no less.

Aaron might have chosen his words more carefully if he hadn't been so startled by Penelope's unusual devastation, but his jumbled brain forgoes its job and his mouth takes over, uttering the thoughtless statement, "That's- that's what she's there for."

And in his mind, it's true, if not the complete truth. You are there for him to kiss, you're there to be kissed and loved and appreciated and cherished, but he's momentarily forgotten that Penelope doesn't know that you and his mystery wife are the same person, and his words so easily warp into possessiveness and disregard.

Her face contorts into a mixture of disgust and rage that could take out a serial killer, and he seriously considers recruiting her as Chief Lecturer of the BAU, "Hotch? How- how could you say that? That your wife is just- just some thing to wait on you while you run off with someone else? You- Aaron, I can't believe you, I thought you were better than that!"

She tries storming away, tears budding in her eyes but Aaron catches her elbow, ignoring the way she flails and squirms at his touch.

"Let go of me!" She tearily demands, but he grabs her by the other arm now, holding both of her shoulders.

"No, Penelope, listen-" He tries, reminding himself to send her to Derek later for a self-defense lesson, because the weak shoves that she's pushing at his chest with do very little.

"No! No, I'm tired of listening to men," She shrieks, "You were supposed to be better than that, Aaron! I trusted you, you were supposed to be the kind of man that I could admire, and- but you're not! You're just like the rest of them, you're some egotistical, possessive, heavy-handed, domineering son of a-!"

"Y/N is my wife." Aaron cuts her off, his voice slightly raised, but not harsh. Never harsh, not to the sniffling mess of ruffles and glitter in his arms that handed him her resume on pink stationary all those years ago.

She falls silent, finally, but her lips still tremble. Aaron squeezes her arms tighter, not rough but comforting, "Y/N is my wife. We married privately late last year. We kept it secret for safety reasons, but I'll admit we didn't need to hide it from all of you. I was not cheating on my wife, I would never-" He thinks momentarily of Haley, of the gut-wrenching sound of her cell phone ringing with a call she wasn't brave enough to answer in front of him, "I would never do that to Y/N."

It's a lot of new information to process, and Aaron grants Penelope all the time she needs to work through it. When her red-stained lips part again she breathes, "You married Y/N?"

"I did." Aaron nods, and though it's not the time to smile, he can't help that a ghostly one flits over his features at the mere thought of the day he'd married you, "I'll show you pictures when we're done here. Penelope, you can trust me. I don't blame you for accusing me- in fact, I'm glad that you did. I'm glad that your loyalty isn't blind. But Y/N is my wife, and that's why I kissed her."

A very wobbly, "Oh." Is all that Penelope can manage, and she sniffles again, staring at his tie rather than his face as he holds her steady in the hallway. He's glad that they've both shown up early for the day, but you're due to return with coffee for the three of you any minute now, and he offers her his pocket square to wipe beneath her eyes.

"You said-" She chokes out sheepishly, voice unsteady as she smears the tears off of her cheeks, "You said you have pictures?"

That's how you find them when you return, seated on the couch in his office peering down at his phone. You have to set the tray you'd been carrying down on Aaron's desktop before you can properly greet either of them, but you're immediately alarmed by the tears streaked over Garcia's cheeks when she stands to face you.

"You-" She starts, not giving you a second to speak, "-are a rat! You got married," She gushes, and Aaron chuckles deeply from beside her, standing and pocketing his phone.

"You got married to our boss, and you told me nothing," She hisses, but slumps so easily into your chest for a hug that you're more than willing to give her.

"I'm sorry, Penny," You gush, squeezing her tight, "We just- we were worried about safety. The more people we told, the more dangerous it would become, so we didn't share it with anyone. But- but we should have told the team, I know."

She sniffles and you draw back to pick up her drink from behind you, sugary and pink and topped with a thick layer of whipped cream, "I got you a drink. Forgive me?"

"Reluctantly," She tries scowling, but she's never been very good at it. She takes the drink from you huffily, jamming the straw inside and taking a drag at the thick liquid. It's barely nine in the morning, far too early for the concoction she's sipping, but she nods after she draws back from the straw.

"This is delicious," She decides, "And you two are traitors, and I'm telling everyone about this."

"You should," Aaron laughs, stepping up behind you to press his shoulder to your own. It's comforting just having him there, and you relax against him as Penelope takes her leave.

"I mean it," She warns, wiping another stray tear from her cheek and sipping at her strawberry drink, "I'm telling everyone. I'm- I'm gonna hire some guy to fly a plane over the city, and the banner is gonna say, 'Y//N Y/L/N and Aaron Hotchner got married without me'."

"That's fair," You nod, not bothering to bite back a grin as she lingers in the doorway of Aaron's office.

"And so help me god," She narrows her eyes at you, once more falling just short of intimidating, "If you try to take some extended-sick-leave time, and I find out you're hiding a pregnancy from me? No amount of frappuccinos in the world will make up for it!"

"Noted," You call out as she leaves, and Aaron's hand comes up to press against the near-indiscernible bulge of your belly before the door even clicks shut.

"She's good." Aaron observes, and you reach for your own non-caffeinated drink with a grin that's hard to drink through.

"Let's tell her about the baby at lunch," You propose, "I think she's more than earned a secret to keep."

[bookyeom]

whatever you say, bro - chs

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."

Read Part Two here!

A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!

Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?

Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen. 

Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro

You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.

Bro.

It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.

Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny. 

Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro. 

You close your eyes with a sigh. 

"Thumb war."

"What?"

You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.

"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie." 

Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on." 

As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.

You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too. 

“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned. 

You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.

"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.  

"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little. 

"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you." 

The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.

Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."

Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.

But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.” 

For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier. 

As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”

Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote. 

“What did you say?”

“I said you’re annoying.”

You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best. 

“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line. 

It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.

"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much. 

"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –

Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.

When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”

Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”

“You kissed me.”

Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”

Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”

@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin

[a-hazbin-reader]

A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant

Just a thought 🫠

You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows

You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him

He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea

Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that

You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you

You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel

You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact

Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control

He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry

Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself

Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort

You're just so sad sometimes

Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it

He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole

It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two

Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple

Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting

So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-

YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?

Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again

But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before

Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others

"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"

When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately

"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"

Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving

You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there

Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it

Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely

You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now

If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are

How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you

The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart

Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked

You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud

Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you

You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery

But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair

And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-

Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror

"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"

"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"

"Because you-what?"

It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place

"You got me pregnant..?"

He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-

When did he end up on the bed?

Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed

Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head

Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say

"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"

"T-Thanks Vaggie..."

The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for

"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"

"Don't you love me..?"

He'll be back in 10 minutes

The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around

"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."

"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."

Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone

Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now

They just want to see

As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother

Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel

"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"

She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad

Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you

"With a little help from the big boss of-"

"You haven't left already?"

"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"

"Your what now?

Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it

How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him

The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you

"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."

Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now

Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there

"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"

Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby

Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him

He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay

But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really

If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding

Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out

He's so proud to show you the finished look

The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you

He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you

Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along

Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him

Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can

Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms

You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile

"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."

Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her

Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants

TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-

"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"

"I would love nothing more, my dear..."

He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands

A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS

[goldsbitch]

can I request a Lando x reader where the reader’s weakness is when people stroke her hair? Her mind goes completely blank and she falls silent immediately when people stroke her hair and Lando uses it at his advantage.

Fluffy pls and ty🫶🏻

omg, i love this prompt so much - thank you and hope you like it!!

This is one is dripping with sweetness a little too much, don't say I did not warn you. No other warning.

Lando was born a tease, oscillating between clueless and shy, to unapologetic and bordeline dickish. It all depended on the setting, his relationship to the person and how much sleep he got the night before. Sometimes your boyfriend was the sweetest little thing, giggling shyly about everything instead of coming up with an actual response, and the other times he was a walking menace actively seeking every opportunity how to get you into a flustered state.

You and Lando were full on deep in the beginning of your relationship, the sweetest part of the honeymoon phase. To put it bluntly - fucking almost non stop. And the desire was never-ending. Blinding sunshine kissed good morning to every day you two got to wake up next to each other. Problems seem to be non existent. Bliss.

It was the way his hair curled when he got a little bit sweaty, his toned body what you were desperate to explore from every angle and the need to know every little secret trick that worked on him. It became some sort of a game, who would get better at knowing the other. Which one of you found all the buttons to push.

Lando rose up that morning and chose violence. Metaphorical one, of course. Snuggling up to you in order to wake you up as well for some morning work out, as he like to call it. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear and touching you all over your body. But you were just incredibly sore from the past few days, physically unable to keep up.

"Why don't you love me anymore," he pleaded jokingly as you murmured another weak appeal for your sleep.

"Lando, you know I love you more than anything," you replied, still half asleep. But it was hard to distinguish as reality resembled a sweet dream everyday lately.

"I remember when you used to want me, physically," he kept going.

"We literally had sex few hours ago, stop whining," you kissed him between your words. He looked at you with his incredible eyes, little devil dancing in each one of them.

"Exactly, too long ago. Wish I could go back in time when you were not sore and get inside you all over again."

You simply laughed, absolutely smitten with this lovey dovey side of him. His words made you melt like butter sitting under direct sun. You brushed your noses together and then he kissed you.

The best part of romantic relationships is the one that you cannot absolutely share with other people, the almost embarrassing pleas, desire and gross goofiness, simping at each other all the time.

"Fine, if you play by these rules, I'll come back with my own revenge," he said finally as you inevitably had to start getting ready to go to the paddock with him.

Today was the big day. You'd been spotted in public countless of times, the "girlfriend" title officially sitting on your head for weeks now. But this was the first time you were to join him in the paddock as a wag. You were trying to hide your nervousness, but he saw right through you. Before you exited the apartment, he made you stop and took your face in his hands. "I'm happy I get to do this with you. I love parading you around, for everyone to see that we're a team." You smiled, his words hitting like first snowflakes of the year. "Poor Oscar, I can't wait to finally trauma dump the shared misery you bring to our lives," you jokes and locked lips with him once again. "God, it's terrifying how much I like you," you said automatically, without having to think about it.

//

It actually wasn't as bad as you'd expected. It was definitely weird and strange, but not necessarily bad. Having Lando by your side as you passed the gates definitely helped. The photographers were lined up as people at a shooting range would and it did feel like that at first. But as quickly as you were initially overwhelmed, fatigue took over you and you blocked their ever-presence out. Trying to chat up those Lando introduce you to and memorizing the names. You knew how much some of these people meant to Lando, so you were trying to be at your best behavior. The thought that his friends would hate you in the same way as some of his fans haunted you.

In the middle of all the rush, you parted for a moment. To be honest, little peace of quiet and chill was something you appreciated. But remember, Lando woke up and chose violence this morning. And his plan was quite simple, yet bulletproof.

"Y/N! There you are, my love," you heard from coming from behind you. "I have someone to introduce to you! I'm very much sure you'll appreciate meeting him." As you turned, you saw Daniel Ricciardo walking your way with your Lando. You were a little perplexed as to why Lando was so cheerful about that. You clearly remembered him getting very upset when you admitted to him that at some point in the past, when formula 1 was a world far away from you, that you had a minor crush on Daniel. Which obviously went out of the window once you met Lando. That did not mean that Lando was 100% ok with it.

"Y/N, as I'm sure you know, this is Daniel, hell of a driver and good friend of mine," Lando continued and you knew him well enough to know he had ulterior motives. Not sure what to do, you smiles shyly and shook Daniel's hand.

"Hi, Daniel," you said, eyes flinching between him and Lando. You were full on preparing for anything. Lando's smirk almost had a life of his own at that point.

"Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I've heard quite a lot things about you!" Daniel opened, life of the party as per usual.

You chuckled. "All good things, I hope!" And with that, Lando stepped behind you and put his arm around you.

"Only the best," he said, leaned closed and inconspicuously started to stroke you hair gently. Oh, he did not just go this low.

It was slow, yet like tidal wave. You stopped breathing for a moment. Your body relaxing, as if you'd just taken the world's best sedatives. The way his hands made you feel was etherial. It was the same sensation the luckier ones experienced when listening to ASMR and the less fortunate ones sometimes called an orgasm. Shivers slowly traveling around your whole body, every part becoming sensitive out of nowhere. You weren't able to look at Daniel, let alone continue speaking. Lando was more than aware of what touching your hair did to you. He'd discovered this trick quite early on. And it was his favorite one.

"So, where are you from?" Daniel attempted at small talk. But how could you possibly give a fuck at that moment. Not that your body would even allowed you to respond. The only thing you were able to take in from the outside world were the soft slow movements Lando's fingers were doing, blocking everything out instanteniously.

Daniel stared at you, waiting. From his perspective, this was a very awkward meeting.

Lando answered for you, with a smirk you did not see, but could feel from the tone of his voice. "You have to excuse her, she is bit shy in front of new people."

You could not give less of a fuck at that moment of what these two were saying. Your lips were starting to shiver from getting so sensitive. You took a short breath and someone who would be standing close and knew you well would know, that what escaped your mouth was not a nervous laugh, but something very close to a moan.

Lando and Daniel were saying words, but none of that was important, while Lando's fingers were working his magic. He would only leave your hair alone once he saw Daniel leaving.

You wanted to be mad at him. But you were still sort of high from all the sensation bomb Lando dropped on you. You slowly turned around to face him, coming down from your own personal nirvana.

You took a deep breath while he watched you without a blink and biting hims smile away.

"You promised," you let out air that got stuck in your lungs somewhere along the way. "You promised you would not do this in public." Your brain was slowly wiring up to normal again.

"I told you I'd punish you for the morning," he said as if it was the most amusing thing ever. "Also, if Daniel is my competition, I'm going to use all the advantage I have."

Lando had a way of looking at you that made you unravel instantaneously and there was no way of stopping it. There was just something about his smile that did it for you. As anyone who is properly in love, you could not imagine somebody being able tor resist that. In your love soaked mind, he was irresistible. To a normal mind, he was probably just a regular guy, but that idea was unfathomable to you.

"I'm pretty sure that after what I just pulled, you will not have to worry about Daniel liking me," you chuckled, having to accept that Lando won this one.

"I would never let my guard down...But yeah, I think this one is pretty safe," he chuckled once more. You kissed his overly proud face and promised to yourself to get back at him later, in the privacy of his bedroom.

[cupid-styles]

only angel 2 (tattoorry/plugrry)

part two of tattorry is here!!!!! read part one here

in which y/n's parents still suck, harry can't stop thinking about his girl, and maybe there's a chance this'll all work out

word count: 8.5k

content warnings: angst (all solved in the end!), minor mentions of dieting/controlled eating, y/n has really awful parents (spoiler: there is one scene where her mom slaps her), weed mentions, a terrible date (one minor but inappropriate scene with unwanted non-sexual touching), smut (fingering, f receiving oral, dirty talk, spitting, tiniest bit of daddy kink)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

As soon as Y/N's mother zeroes in on Harry's grasp around her daughter's waist, everything moves at a blurry pace. 

In an instant, her hand is curled around Y/N's wrist, yanking her away from one of the only sources of comfort she's ever had. She gasps when she pulls her through the door and outside the bookstore, bile rising in her throat as her brain slowly pieces things together. She got caught. Applying to a job. With Harry holding her hand.

She's never going to be able to see him again.

Harry's quick to follow them outside, his mind whirring just as quickly.

"Excuse me!" he calls out as Y/N's mom drops her grasp from her, a stern expression on her face. She doesn't even look in Harry's direction but Y/N immediately blinks at him, her eyes wide with fear. "Excuse me, are you Y/N's mom?"

"Who the hell are you?" she hisses, instantly batting him away the second he takes a step forward. Y/N's chest feels tight as she clamors for words, panic rising in her throat.

"My name is Harry. I know your daughter—"

"Like hell you do." she spits, her eyes squinted and beady as she looks over Harry's appearance. It's clear on Y/N's face that she's never been this mortified before, but she can only hope it's because she got caught, not because she got caught with Harry. "I don't know what nonsense you've gotten yourself into, Y/N, but consider it done. We're going home."

The words are on the tip of Y/N's tongue — no, stop, please, I care about him, you don't understand — but the fear of her mother is too paralyzing. Again, her manicured fingers wrap tightly around Y/N's wrist and she pulls at her, making her stumble. 

"Wait— Y/N, you can't seriously—"

"Enough," her mom sneers, tightening her grip, "What do you want? Money? Is that what you're after?"

"What?! No, I told you, I know Y/N—"

"Do you go to school with her? She knows better than to socialize with tattooed lowlives."

His jaw drops and his eyes dart back and forth from Y/N to her mother. Tears line her waterline and she sniffles, looking helpless and desperate — and Harry knows, he can see it right in front of his face how awful her parents are, that they're blatantly abusive and terrible people just because they have money, but for the first time, he actually feels anger bubble up in his throat. Not at her mom, but at Y/N.

"No, I don't go to school with her. Y/N, are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?" he asks, an unusually harsh edge sharpening his voice. 

Since this entire thing began, there's space for Y/N to speak — to potentially defend herself, defend Harry, or to do what she's always done and follow her mother's orders. She knows what she wants to do. Harry knows what he wants her to do.

But instead of taking any action, she flounders.

Harry can see it in her eyes — panic ravishing her body as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish. Normally, he'll tease her for that, but this time, he would do anything to hear her say something. Anything. 

"Clearly you don't know one another at all. Y/N, we're going home. Now."

With a final yank, Y/N falls pliant in her mother's wishes, following her down the street to wherever her car is parked. Harry watches them walk away, sure that she'll turn around and come running back to him.

It's only when their forms become mixed in with the rest of the busy Manhattan sidewalk, little blobs he can barely make out, that he realizes she's not. 

. . .

Y/N doesn't think she's ever felt so shitty in her life.

Her parents have disciplined her in the past for much smaller things — taking her car to campus, missing one of the dates they set up for her. Punishment always came in the form of the silent treatment paired with the confiscation of her car keys and the understanding that she was forbidden to leave the apartment. 

This time is so much worse. 

The second her mother unlocks her car and Y/N climbs in, she's on the receiving end of a piercing slap. She immediately winces and reaches up to cup her stinging cheek, tears streaming down her face from the image of Harry's hurt expression permanently seared into her memory. When she looks at the woman, she's seething.

"You're a disgrace."

Those are the only words she speaks to her the entire drive home.

When they get home, her mother is quick to lay down the ground rules: She's done with graduate school — according to her, they trusted her to know better and solely focus on her education, but they can't rely on her any longer. She'll start working at their company immediately. She'll go out on a date with Arthur Franklin, do what he wants, and marry into their family as soon as humanly possible. And lastly, she's never to be seen with "that boy" or anyone who looks like him ever again.

In two minutes, her life is drawn out for her in the most terrifying way. But she doesn't fight her. She knows it's a losing battle — one that her mother has been winning her entire life. Harry gave her a beautiful experience. He showed her what her life could have been like if she wasn't so scared. 

And when she goes to bed that evening, without dinner of course (her parents gave Freya strict instructions not to make her a portion or allow her to cook anything in the kitchen), she cries for him.

She lets her tears soak into her pillow, dampening the fabric with every sob that breaks free from her chest, and desperately hopes that he doesn't hate her, even if she never sees him again. 

. . .

To: Y/N, 11.19.23, 11:32 a.m.

It's been a few days.. just checking in to make sure you're doing okay.

To: Y/N, 11.20.23, 8:49 a.m.

Please just send me a text so I know you're alright. 

To: Y/N, 11.22.23, 10:28 p.m.

Hey. I'm gonna wait outside your lecture hall tomorrow. I need to know you're okay. Please tell me if you don't want me to come, but I really need to see you. 

To: Y/N, 11.23.23, 4:03 p.m.

Did you skip class today?

To: Y/N, 11.26.23, 1:28 a.m.

If you're avoiding me, that's fine, but this is driving me insane... please just give me a sign or something so I know you're okay. Please Y/N. You can't do this.

. . .

"I just think your father is a great businessman! He's one of the smartest men I've ever worked for and I think we could do something incredible together. Don't you think?"

Y/N gulps down another large sip of wine, flashing a tight smile to Arthur. She never drinks, but she decided that if she was getting through the night, alcohol would serve as a much-needed crutch. They're currently at some smarmy restaurant on the Upper East Side — apparently there's a waitlist of three months, but Arthur was able to just "make a call" and get them a reservation. Y/N thinks she was supposed to be impressed by that, but she could really care less.

It's been a week and a half since she saw Harry last. She never knew heartbreak could be so excruciating, but that line of thinking occurred before she met him. 

In the 27 minutes since their date began — yes, Y/N's been counting — Arthur has only talked about her father. How incredible and smart he is, how he runs such a great business, how he can't wait to have a higher position in the company. 

"Did you hear me?" Arthur asks, stuffing another piece of bread in his mouth. 

"Yeah," she says curtly. "Sorry, did you want me to call my father so you could date him instead?"

Arthur forces out an awkward laugh. "You know, your mom said you had an unusual sense of humor... guess that's just part of your charm, huh?"

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she picks at her pasta. She's looking straight ahead, eyes empty and zoning out when she thinks she sees a familiar head of long, unruly curls. She perks up, straightening her posture, ignoring Arthur when he assumes her change in body language is in response to whatever nonsense he's droning on about. 

She wills the figure to turn around, her heart tugging — but when he does a mere moment later, she realizes it's not him, just someone with a similar haircut. Her shoulders slump, blinking as she watches the man gently guide his date to their table. 

"Are you okay?" 

Snapping out of her thoughts, she redirects her attention to Arthur. She swallows and nods her head. 

"Yeah. Sorry, thought I saw someone I know."

He hums. "Hm, probably not. Like I said, this restaurant a three-month long waitlist. No one you know could be here."

"Right." she mutters. She drops her fork, suddenly feeling sick, and Arthur's eyes snap up at the clattering sound the metal makes against the ceramic plate. 

"Be careful," he hisses, "This is a nice place, Y/N."

The sting to his tone is instantly reminiscent of her own parents' discipline. She cowers, mumbling out a half-hearted apology, and when she looks up to see his squinted eyes analyzing her every feature, anxiety is quick to spread through her chest and up her throat.

She knew it before tonight — that Arthur was essentially just an extension of her parents, but the fear and apprehension of leaving her family was too paralyzing. But in an instant, it clicked. 

Sitting across from her, Arthur just looks so mean. A curl to his lips, an expression of disgust painted across his face as he studies her, his mouth open in preparation to scold her again. 

She can't do this for the rest of her life. 

She refuses to do this for the rest of her life. 

Her heart is beating out of her chest, shaky hands grabbing the napkin folded neatly in her lap. She places it on the table, moving slowly in hopes that he won't notice, even if she knows it's impossible. 

"What are you doing?"  he asks tightly, eyebrows lowering as she stands from the table. 

"I... I have to do something," Y/N mumbles, "I'm sorry. I have to go."

"What?" Arthur snaps, digging into his pocket to grab his wallet, throwing a few hundred dollar bills down on the table as she rushes out of the restaurant. He's quick to follow her, his stride much larger and faster than hers. He reaches out to grab her elbow and pulls her form to press against his body in the entryway. She gasps out in surprise, freezing her movements. 

"Where are you going?" Arthur repeats through gritted teeth. "We're not done. We're on a date, Y/N."

She swallows and shakes her head jerkily, "I have to do something, I'm sorry, please let me go—"

"Your parents made a deal with me." he says, nostrils flaring, "You're done running. You're mine now."

Her stomach drops. A deal? She's not some kind of pawn in their game and she's not an object that can be moved around whenever they want. In an act of anger, she yanks her arm away from his grasp, taking a step back. 

"I'm not yours. I'm not anybody's. Whatever deal you made with my parents is off."

She grabs the door handle and pushes it open, leaving Arthur — and whatever fucked up future they had planned for her — behind. 

. . .

Harry hasn't been sleeping well. 

It's from a combination of factors, but primarily, it's being on the receiving end of Y/N's silent treatment. He didn't think she would ever do this to him, but maybe he was too naive, looking at their relationship through rose-colored lenses and assuming she'd be strong enough to reject her parents in favor of him.

How stupid.

He sighs and glances at the clock on the wall of his office. When he was seeing Y/N, he never stayed at the shop later than 6 or 7, usually because she wanted to get home before her parents started to wonder. These days, he stays behind until midnight, trying to occupy himself with work so he doesn't have to go home and think about her.

And at first, he thinks he's hallucinating. Who would be knocking on the door to the shop at 9:30, especially with the clear and apparent closed sign? But then the fists get louder, and he wonders if it's someone drunk or high, looking to get a tattoo. (That certainly wouldn't be happening.)

Finally, he hears it — the faintest of familiar voices calling out his name, and he realizes he may not be imagining it. 

He forces himself out, taking large footsteps to the front, his heart beating rapidly when he sees the helpless girl pounding on the door. Quickly, he unlocks it through furrowed brows, immediately letting her in when he sees the distress on her face. 

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, pulling Y/N inside. "What happened?"

Dried tears leave marks down the apples of her cheeks, her mascara clumpy and stained around her eyes. She sniffles and shakes her head. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Y/N, what's going on?" he repeats before locking the door back up. Carefully, he places a hand to the small of her back and guides her to the back, where his office is. He wordlessly encourages her to sit down on the blue velvet couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handing it to her. 

"They're awful," she stammers, "My parents... I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Just tell me what happened," Harry murmurs, carefully rubbing the area between her shoulder blades, "Why are you crying? Did they do something? Are you hurt?"

She shrugs, eyes falling to her lap. "Everything's been terrible." she whispers. "They had me go on a date with someone they want me to marry — when I wanted to leave, he told me that my parents made a deal with him. That I'm his now."

"A deal?" Harry repeats, anger quickly bubbling under his skin, "What does that fucking mean?"

"I don't know. I didn't know about it until tonight."

"Did he do anything to you?" he asks, doing a quick once-over of her appearance. She doesn't look hurt, but she does look beautiful. It makes jealousy rise from the pit of his stomach, knowing she got dressed up for somebody else.

"No. He was really mean, but," she sniffles, shrugging again, "I don't know. He grabbed me."

"Where?" Harry growls. "Where did he grab you?"

Her eyes widen, "J-just my arm. When I was trying to leave, he, um, grabbed my elbow and pulled me back against him."

"Let me see."

Y/N wants to tell him that she's fine, immediately trying to downplay the act, but on the cab ride over, she had time to process how gross it made her feel. That he felt it was appropriate to touch her in that way just because she didn't want to be there — so she allows him to cautiously push up the sleeve of her sweater, analyzing the slightly reddened skin where his hand had been. 

"You're not seeing him again," he mutters, carefully putting her arm down. He reaches over into his desk drawer and grabs a small container of Neosporin, dabbing a bit on the mark and rubbing it in with gentle fingertips. "I don't care if your parents want you to marry him. You will not be with someone who hurts you, Y/N."

"I know," she whispers, "I told him that I wasn't his. That whatever deal they had is off."

Harry's eyes widen. "You did?"

"Yes." she nods sullenly, "I realized that... well, I wanted to leave because I wanted to come see you. I don't want them to control me anymore. I want my own life."

"That's... that's huge, Y/N," Harry murmurs, resisting the urge to surge forward and wrap his arms around her, "What are you gonna do?"

She shrugs. "I haven't gotten that far yet, I guess. But the first step was seeing you and apologizing for that day with my mom."

"It hurt," he admits quietly. "Seeing you walk away... but I guess I didn't fully understand just how bad it was."

"I never wanted to walk away. They just scare me so much. She... she slapped me when we got in the car."

"Dovie," Harry breathes out, the pet name slipping from his mouth, "That's unacceptable, you know that, right? They're abusive."

"I do. I know they're bad." she pauses, swallowing harshly. "I don't want to go back there tonight."

Harry shakes his head. "You're never going back there at all." 

. . .

Harry's apartment is cozy. 

Y/N should have assumed as much, being that his mere presence essentially feels like a warm hug. But when he takes her back to his place and he hesitantly locks the door, murmuring out an apology about how messy things are, she can't but smile gently at all the very Harry decor touches: A record player next to a large collection of his favorite albums, framed pictures and polaroids tacked up onto his fridge of his friends, family, and loved ones, and just about ten cozy throw blankets and pillows strewn across his couch. 

He apologizes for how small it is and Y/N scoffs — she couldn't care less about the size of his place, instead being completely enamored by the fact that it's his.

She's analyzing the refrigerator door, eyes glued to a photo strip of him and his sister when she feels a gentle hand at her hip, giving it a squeeze. 

"Do you wanna change, dove?" Harry asks quietly, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck. 

She nods, pinching at the fabric of her dress. Suddenly, her tights feel too restrictive and her feet ache from the heels her mother forced her into hours earlier. 

"I don't have any clothes, though."

He chuckles lightly. "I can give you some, silly." 

"Are you sure?" Y/N asks, turning to look at him. Her lips part nervously when she sees how close he is to her. "You're already doing so much for me tonight."

"What, would you prefer to waltz around naked, then?"

Her signature blush appears in seconds and it makes a lopsided grin appear nearly instantly on Harry's face. He can tell that she's about to whine his name out in her typical chagrined way and he laughs. 

"Kidding, princess," he mumbles, "But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to."

"You're too much." Y/N grumbles, though the small smile on her lips says differently. She couldn't deny how much she missed Harry over the past two weeks — not only the place he holds in her life, but from a physical, intimate standpoint, too.

"C'mon, I'll get you some sweats."

She follows him to his bedroom, her stomach prickling with nerves as he guides her to the bed, instructing her to take a seat. He traipses over to his dresser and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. It says hot and heavy on the back, and she remembers she blushed just from reading it the first time she saw him wear it.

He gives her a moment of privacy to change, shutting the bedroom door quietly. With a deep breath, she kicks her heels off, peels her tights down her legs, and pulls her dress up and over her body. It's a relief to finally change into cozy clothes that smell like Harry, and she can't believe she's really here — when they were seeing each other before, she'd dreamt of being able to go over to his house and see what it looked like. She was always just too scared that her parents would find her, or even call the cops when she didn't come home early enough.

Now, she still cares, but it feels like Harry's there to protect her — and that makes it seem a little less scary.

There's a knock at the door, pulling her from her thoughts. With her old clothes folded up neatly, she opens it, revealing a sleepy looking Harry. 

"All changed?" 

She nods, opening the door a little wider to reveal her appearance. His jaw drops and a single "fuck" leaves his lips.

Y/N's eyes widen, worried that she's done something wrong. Quickly, he flounders, stammering like she normally does. 

"Are you alright?" she asks, a look of concern covering her face. He nods, swallowing harshly.

"Um. Yeah, sorry." he coughs into his hand, "Fuck, this is embarrassing— you just— um, you look really fucking hot in my clothes."

She raises her eyebrows, glancing down at the outfit. His sweatpants pool at her ankles and the shirt, which is oversized on his torso, goes down to the middle of her thighs. She supposes he may be able to see her breasts through the white fabric of the tee, but otherwise, she doesn't understand why it's such an attractive sight to him.

"Shit, I need to— I'm sorry, Y/N, this definitely isn't what you need tonight—" he's inching backwards and towards the bathroom on the side of the hallway when she sees it — a very large and apparent erection straining through his black jeans. 

"Oh," she mumbles, "Do you...? We can, like, do stuff if you... if you wanted..."

"No!" he groans, turning to face the wall and pressing his forehead against it, "Just— no, dovie, thank you for the offer but I just feel like I'd be taking advantage of you after such a long night, yeah? So lemme just— I'm gonna take care of this in the bathroom and you can get comfy in the bed, okay?"

He's gone in a flash, the bathroom door locked before she even has a chance to reply. She bites her lip, hoping he's not secretly annoyed at her for asking if he wanted to do something sexual. She's too tired to overthink it though, so she turns on her heel, walks back into his room, and climbs under the blankets.

She's nearly asleep when he returns, soft footsteps padding across the length of the wood floors. She hears a quiet whisper of her name and she peeks an eye open to see Harry standing over her. 

"'m gonna sleep outside on the couch, but let me know if you need anything, alright?" 

She swallows, reaching out to grab his hand in a sleepy haze. His eyebrows raise as she bites her lip. "Can you just... stay for a minute? Until I fall back asleep?"

And truly, Harry couldn't deny her even if he wanted to. 

So he nods his head and, to his surprise, she moves over so he has room to crawl in. He does, at first maintaining a sliver of distance between them, until she looks up at him, her hair mussed from laying back against his pillows, an expectant and wide-eyed look on her face.

"Need me to hold you, dovie?"

Y/N nods, immediately clinging to his body like a magnet. He smiles gently and wraps his arms around her form, pulling her onto her side and into his chest, smoothing her hair down as he presses an occasional kiss to her forehead. They've cuddled at the shop a few times, but nothing like this — not an all-consuming, full body experience that has Harry feeling like he's in heaven. She smells so good, her skin is so warm, and she's wrapped up in his clothes — he doesn't think he could ask for anything more in this moment.

Just as he thinks she's fallen asleep, he hears a soft voice muffled into his sweatshirt. He glances down, wondering if she's just talking in her sleep. Instead, he's met with tired, sweet eyes.

"What was that?" he whispers, swiping his knuckle lightly over her cheek.

"Thank you," she mumbles. "For today."

"I would do anything for you, princess. Hope you know that."

She yawns with a shake of her head. "That's a silly thing to promise."

. . .

When Y/N wakes up the next morning, she's under the weight of a long haired man that, for the past two weeks, only existed in her dreams.

It's jarring for him to actually exist in her reality now, but even more so that she stayed over at his place and slept in the same bed as him.

Less than 24 hours away from her parents and she's already crossed off another first off her list.

But the blissful moment of realization is quickly stripped away when the events of last night come flooding back to her — the date with Arthur, his rough nature, the supposed deal between him and her parents. Her parents who were an entirely different issue on their own — she feels a dull throb aching behind her temples just as the thought of how they're planning to lure her back, worry seeping into her bones when she realizes she hasn't checked her phone since they left the tattoo shop last night.

Harry must feel her panicked thoughts rising because he blinks his eyes open to see a prominent furrow between her eyebrows. Without her realizing it, he moves carefully, raising his thumb to smooth it away.

"What're you stressing about so early in the morning?" he rasps out. She swallows, moving onto her side to face him.

"They've probably issued out a search party by now."

"Mm, can't do that. You're not considered a missing person until it's been 48 hours."

His joke clearly doesn't land when Y/N squints her eyes at him. Instead, he quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. 

"It's gonna be okay, Y/N. I promised you would never go back there and I meant it," he explains lowly, pressing a light kiss to the shell of her ear. "What if you just text them and tell them that you're done? You're over 18, there's no reason why they can keep doing this."

Her eyes close as she relaxes into his chest, enjoying the sensation of his vibrating chest from his deep voice. 

"I'm too scared to look at my phone." she admits quietly. "I can't imagine the mean things they've written to me."

"Do you want me to look?" Harry asks softly, using his hand to tilt her head up to look at him. 

She shrugs. "If you do, can you maybe not tell me what they say? Just tell me the important stuff?"

"Course."

She nods and sits up, reaching onto his night stand for her phone. With a deep breath, she hands it to him before rolling over onto her other side to face the wall. 

He runs his fingers up and down her spine as he goes through her missed texts. There's one or two from that prick Arthur, but they're nothing important — just an ask that she calls him when she's feeling better (he resists the urge to block his number altogether). But otherwise... well, he's admittedly shocked at what he finds.

"Is it bad?" she asks, wedging her thumbnail between her teeth.

"Um..." Harry presses his lips into a thin line, rolling them into his mouth. "You didn't block their numbers or anything, right?"

"No."

"Dove... I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but... there's nothing."

She flips onto her back, a stunned expression painting her face. "What?"

"They didn't text or call, sweetheart. I'm... I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but... you just had some missed texts from that guy from last night."

"How is that possible?" she asks when he hands her phone to her, "I— do you think they haven't noticed?"

"I'm not sure. You said they've been on you more often lately, I would assume that they'd be waiting up for you last night, right?"

She shrugs, "Yeah. Probably."

"On the other hand, though, it could mean that... well, maybe you're home free, dovie," Harry says, treading carefully in case he accidentally upsets her, "We can take the day to relax. I don't have to go into work today and we can figure out your next steps, if you'd like."

With a heavy sigh, she nods her head and sits up a little straighter, running her hand through her messy bedhead. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Sure," Harry mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before allowing his feet to touch the chilly wood floor of his bedroom. "I'll get you set up in the bathroom."

She doesn't reply to that so Harry decides to leave her be, instead deciding to show his affection in an act of service. He starts by running the shower on the perfect temperature — not too hot but not too cool either, just so steam begins to steadily fill the room — and picks out his plushiest towels for when she's done. He finishes by lighting his favorite candle for her, moseying back out to his bedroom to fetch her a new pair of sweats. 

She's on her feet when he returns, scrolling on her phone with her lips pressed into a straight line. Silently, he grabs another pair of his sweatpants and a tee-shirt and reaches out for her hand; a wordless request to follow him. 

She does, pliantly, but not before peering up at him with eyes that tell him everything: She's sad. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.

"Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Harry murmurs, folding her new clothes on the covered toilet seat. "You're obviously free to use whatever you want in there."

Swallowing harshly, she begins to tug at the hem of her borrowed tee-shirt before he has the chance to scamper out of the room. His eyes widen — he feels like a dick, she probably wants to be alone and now he's standing her ogling at her breasts like an idiot — but she simply stares at him with blank eyes.

"Can you... distract me?" she asks softly, her torso now bare, "It's— it's just been too much and I miss you. A lot."

Harry breathes in sharply. "I don't know if that's a good idea, dovie... it's been an emotional time for you."

"I know that," she mumbles, biting her bottom lip. "I just— I wanna feel normal again, Harry. Like how things were before. When we could just kiss and hang out and I didn't feel like I'm gonna burst into flames at any point."

"I know," Harry nods understandingly and bumps his hip against the sink. "But things are different now, princess. And I don't want to do something that you'll regret later because you were feeling down."

She shakes her head quickly, taking a step towards him. The steam from the shower has effectively warmed the bathroom, making beads of sweat pearl at his hairline. Well, that and the topless girl in front of him. 

"I would never regret anything we do," she says, "Even when I tried to stay away from you, I didn't regret a single moment."

"Really?"

"Of course not," she replies, keeping her gaze set on him, "Sometimes, I, um... I even played with myself. Thinking of you."

"Jesus Christ."

He lets out a frustrated groan and closes the bathroom door, tugging his own tee-shirt up and over his body to reveal his heavily inked chest and arms. In a minute, his hands are on her, squeezing her sides as he presses her back against the wall. 

"Tell me more," he mutters, leaning down and sponging kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. "What did you do? What did you think about?"

The sudden physicality makes it hard for her to breathe, let alone talk, but she tries to anyway, knowing that he'll tease her into oblivion if she doesn't at least make an attempt. With his fingers curling into the waistband of the sweatpants she wears, she tries to remember the nights when all she could think about was him. 

"Thought about— oh—" her sentence is interrupted when he nips at the crook of her neck, his fingers dipping beneath her panties to lightly roll over her clit. She leans her head back but, as expected, he attempts to keep her on task, using his other hand to gently squeeze the sides of her neck. "T-thought about you touching me... l-like this."

"Like what?" 

"This," she repeats through a gasp when he starts to apply a bit more pressure to her clit, pressing small circles into the nerves. 

"Don't know what that means, dove. Gotta spell it out for me. Where was I touching you?"

Y/N moans when one of his fingers dips into her pulsating hole, just enough to make her clench, her knees weakening. He squeezes her neck again, this time a bit tighter, and her eyes roll back. 

"Where was I touching you, Y/N?" 

"D-down there." she says breathily.

"Down where?"

She knows there's no way she's getting out of this, and the rhythmic pulsing of her clit is only a reminder of the power he holds over her in this moment. She whimpers, swallowing harshly when he removes his finger, keeping the tip inside. 

"Tell me," he encourages lowly, licking over the sensitive part of her neck he found a few weeks back. "Don't you wanna be my dirty girl again?"

"Y-you were touching my pussy." she mumbles, her cheeks burning. She can feel his smirk, the way his lips curl against her skin. As promised, he dips his finger back in, curling it up against the spot that has her fluttering her eyes closed, and resumes the soft circles into her clit. 

"I was touching your pussy? That's a naughty thing for a sweet girl like you to imagine," he lowers, placing open-mouthed kisses down her naked chest. "And what were you doing while you thought of that, hm?"

Y/N gasps wetly as he pulses his finger steadily, a groan falling from his own lips when he feels her arousal gush out around his hand. Based on how long it took her to refer to her own anatomy, Harry doesn't have high expectations for her explaining how she touched herself, so it's a given that he'll help push her along. 

"Did you grind your little clit on your hand?" he asks as he lowers to his knees, tugging the sweatpants down her legs and pressing kisses to her exposed stomach. "Or did you hump one of those cute stuffed animals you have on your bed?"

She pants heavily at that, a soundless lightbulb illuminating above his head. Bingo.

"Don't think I didn't notice those little stuffies in your bedroom from when you'd send me pretty pictures of yourself," he murmurs into her hips, nipping at the stretch marks on her stomach, "Is that what you would do when you thought of me? Hump your cute bunny, moaning, wishing I was there to take care of you?"

She nods her head, quickly and haphazardly. He pushes his lips over her mound, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake as he continues his journey down to her pussy. She's wet, perhaps even more so than he's ever seen her before, her juices leaking from where his finger is buried deep inside down to his wrist. 

"Please," she whimpers from above, making him glance up at her, "Just— just want you. Please."

"You have me, dovie." he replies easily, pushing a second finger in and nestling it close to the first. 

"N-no. Want you. All of you."

He swallows and sits back on his heels. She has no idea how badly he wants that, and if it were anyone else in the world, he'd probably say yes. But it's her — his sweet, innocent girl that showed up at his tattoo shop one day and hasn't left his brain for one second since — and he knows that right now isn't the time for them.

"I'll give you that as soon as things get better," he murmurs, keeping his gaze set on her. "But you deserve so much more than to be fucked for the first time against a bathroom wall. Wanna take you out, make it romantic."

She blinks, taking a moment to process his polite rejection, nevertheless slowly nodding her head. He leans forward and presses another light kiss to her mound, just below her stomach. 

"Y'wanna know something, though?"

Again, she nods, and he begins to slowly curl his fingers up against her g-spot once more.

"I love the fact that I've corrupted you," he mutters, kissing down to her hood, right where her clit is peeking out. He licks just above there and she moans, pushing her hips out slightly as a wordless request to keep moving down. "Remember when you were that polite girl coming in with her friend? And now you're at my place, begging for my cock, asking me to take your virginity."

"Uh-huh," she mewls as his lips wrap around her clit, sucking perfectly in time with his thrusting fingers. 

He pauses his movements for a moment, just enough for a demand: "Say it," he says, immediately returning to the assault on her most sensitive parts. 

"Y-you corrupted me," she breathes, punctuating the sentiment with a whimper when he harshens his sucking, "I'm yours— oh, I'm yours, daddy—"

"That's right." he uses his other hand to part her pussy lips, spitting squarely on her clit, even if she doesn't need any more lubrication. He switches to kitten licking the bundle of nerves, feeling her hole beginning to clench violently around his fingers. "Cum for me like a good girl. Missed feeling your little pussy squeeze me like this."

That's all it takes for her to cum, her body feeling like it's exploding into a million stars as his tongue and fingers work her through the intense pleasure. He's groaning from the taste of her arousal that drools out from her pussy, the feeling of haphazard pulsations the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He loves watching her — her head ducked back slightly, her eyes squeezed closed, and the prettiest whimpers falling from plushy lips. 

"S-sensitive," she finally stutters out and Harry nods, gently pulling his fingers out. They immediately find their way into his mouth as he rises back up to his feet. When he's finished licking them clean, he grabs her jaw. 

"Open."

She does. Her lips part, opening her mouth, her pink tongue laying dormant inside. With a smirk, his eyes flicker up to hers before he spits into her mouth. 

It takes her by surprise, her body jolting slightly, but her sensitive pussy twitches from the act. 

"Swallow."

Slowly, she closes her mouth, swallowing the combination of his spit with her arousal. A moment later, she opens it again to show him there's nothing left.

"Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, you're incredible."

She smiles gently, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Can we shower now?"

Harry chuckles and nods, guiding her into the steaming stream of water.

. . .

"Okay, princess. Repeat the plan back to me."

Y/N is doing her best to fight off a panic attack as she sits in the passenger's seat of Harry's car. Swallowing harshly, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she restates the steps they'd decided on last night.

"We're gonna go up to their apartment and go straight to my bedroom. If they're there, I'm going to ignore them and let you do the talking. I won't listen to anything rude they say to me."

"That's right. What do we do when we're in your room?"

"We're gonna pack up my things, but only the necessities. Most things can be repurchased." 

"Exactly. We're going for important things that you don't wanna leave behind."

She nods, watching the city streets slowly progress to the familiar high-end stores and supermarkets she grew up around. Suddenly, the blocks were far more sanitary and well taken care of. It made her stomach flutter in the worst way, being back here after spending the past few days at Harry's house in her newly preferred neighborhood.

In a stroke of luck, Harry had a friend that was looking for a roommate. Apparently, they'd worked together as tattoo apprentices a few years back and they still kept in touch. Her name was Lucy, and Harry had even set up a coffee date between the three of them so they could sit down before Y/N made any big decisions. She had been really nervous about it, but Lucy turned out to be incredibly nice and understanding. 

Y/N explained her situation to her, only to receive an abundance of kindness in return — she said that she would love to have her move in with her, that she was a pretty quiet person to live with and worked most days while Y/N would be in school. (She missed around two weeks of classes because of her parents, but Harry convinced her to meet with her professors and tell them she had a family emergency. Thankfully, they were fine with it, and with a little extra studying and hunkering down, she thinks she can still end the semester with low Bs.) 

With her living situation figured out and Y/N back to being a full-time student, the only thing left to address was her parents. In an ideal world, she would never have to deal with them again, but she knows that's unrealistic. They still haven't reached out to her despite it being a full week since she went back to Harry.

And while she wants to run away and abandon her former life, Harry convinced her that she had things she'd regret leaving behind. Not to mention, since starting grad school, she started saving money from her parents in the event that she somehow received an opportunity to get away from them. It wasn't enough to sustain her forever, but it would be good enough for a few months of bills and rent until she gets a job.

When Harry parks in the lot under her parents' apartment building, she feels nauseous. She ignores the sleek black Range Rover that's still parked in her assigned spot — she has no desire to take it, especially because it was just another way for her parents to pretend they were giving her freedom when they were just controlling her even more.

Wordlessly, they get in the elevator. Y/N's nibbling on her bottom lip to the point of near-blood draw while Harry thumbs over her knuckles, pressing a light kiss to her palm when the elevator dings at their arrival.

Standing outside of their apartment door, Y/N rolls her shoulders back to stand up straighter. She can feel Harry's presence close behind her and it brings her comfort, knowing that she's not going in this alone. He murmurs out a near-whisper of encouragement ("you can do this") before she punches in the door code. She's surprised when it works — she'd been half expecting them to change the codes so she couldn't come back.

Hesitantly and with intertwined fingers, Y/N leads them to her bedroom. The apartment is silent, which typically means her parents are gone, but her anxiety is too overwhelming for her to trust it. 

Which she supposes is for good reason, because when she opens the door to her room, her mother is sitting on her bed.

"Y/N," she says, eyes roaming inquisitively from her daughter to the man she's holding hands with. "I saw you coming up on the security cameras."

A bead of panic drips down her spine. Harry squeezes her hand and steps forward, clearly prepared to reply, when Y/N stops him. 

"Why are you here?" Y/N asks. Harry looks at her with a confused expression but he takes a step back, ready to defend her if needed. "You haven't contacted me for a week."

"Well, this is my property, Y/N. You're trespassing."

"Okay." she sighs, looking up at Harry. "Just give us a minute then, we just want to grab some of my stuff and we'll be gone."

"And this is who you'll be living with?" her mom quirks an eyebrow. "This... person from the bookstore that day?"

"He tried talking to you. You had no interest."

"Well I would think you would defend your boyfriend better than that. How was I supposed to know?"

Y/N grits her teeth and shakes her head, "Again, mother, just give us a minute. I'm not taking any furniture or anything valuable, just a few keepsakes."

"You're abandoning this family, I hope you know that," her mother spits as Y/N begins to rustle through her desk, grabbing some pictures and notebooks. Silently, she hands them to Harry, who carefully slips everything in the tote bag around his shoulder. "Your father is so disappointed. So are the Franklins! I mean, you left Arthur alone like that on your first date! And for what, a lifetime of struggling for money?"

"Not everything is about money!" Y/N exclaims, turning around. Harry's eyebrows shoot up — he's never seen her get angry before. "Besides that, you promised me off to Arthur like I'm some kind of object! Who does that?!"

"It was for the better of the company and the family, Y/N, don't be dramatic—"

"Well I didn't want that! I never did!" she shouts, "I want to live my own life! With my boyfriend! Who, by the way, I'm not living with! He's just helping me get on my feet, but even if I was moving in with him, it wouldn't matter, because it's not your life! You don't get to make my decisions anymore!"

Her mother scoffs and Y/N rolls her eyes. When she finds her envelope of money deep at the bottom of her dresser, she grabs a few pairs of pants and sweaters, sticking it between the layers of fabric to pass off to Harry. He tucks them all away. 

"You know you're cut off after this, right?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is it. You walk out that door, you're never allowed back. Don't ask us for a single cent."

Bristled, Y/N lets out a humorless chuckle as she heads for the door, Harry right behind her. They cross the length of the apartment and she slams the down button to the elevator, turning around to look at her mother for the last time.

"I never want to come back, mother. Goodbye."

The click of her mother's heels are the last thing she hears as they enter the elevator and ride down to the parking lot.

. . .

When they get into Harry's car, he realizes it's been a solid five minutes since Y/N has said anything. 

He doesn't want to pressure her — he knows that what just happened was a lot, and when he was reading articles like how to help your partner leave an abusive family last night, they all instructed him to go at her pace. So, that's what he decides to do.

The interior of the car is silent as they drive out of the lot and away from her parents, the boring, dull building just a reflection in the rearview mirror. He doesn't want to turn the radio on and make it seem like he doesn't care, but he also doesn't want to say something stupid and upset her further. 

It's only when he hears a sound resembling a giggle that he looks over at Y/N, a concerned furrow in his brow. 

But she is laughing. 

The most beautiful grin is covering her face as she lets out loud laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shakes her head, looking at Harry, whose confused expression only makes her laugh even harder.

"Dovie, are you alright?" he asks, pulling the car over in preparation for a full meltdown. 

"I—" her words are cut off by another peel of laughter and she takes another moment to pull herself together, "Oh my god— I would've done that years ago if I knew it'd be that easy!"

This time, Harry chuckles, a wave of relief washing over him.

"I'm so proud of you," he says, leaning over to pull her hands into his lap. "You stood up for yourself. You left. I couldn't be happier for you."

"Thank you," she bubbles, her cheeks flushed from her laughter, "I'm so happy. Thank you so much, Harry... I'm just so thankful for you."

He shakes his head, "I'll do anything for you, princess."

Y/N leans over to kiss him lightly, a smile continuing to curl at the edges of her lips. "I love you, you know."

Harry grins.

"Yeah, I love you, too."

. . .

The bell above the front door of St. Mark's Social Club rings as Y/N steps inside. She smiles politely at Jo, the kind receptionist that sits at the front desk (the same one that checked Mai in a few months ago). She's still getting comfortable with all the different employees and characters that come in and out of Harry's tattoo shop, but her socialization skills have definitely improved since moving out.

She walked over as soon as she got out of class. Lately, she's been staying on campus a bit later to do some studying for finals, but today's Friday. Over the past few weeks as Y/N's adjusted to her new life of living on her own and officially dating Harry, they've designated Friday nights as theirs, whether it mean curling up on the couch with a pizza or heading out to a bar with some of Harry's employees. (More often than not, it's the former — despite Harry being the more social of the two, he's always eager to get his hands on her after a day of being away from one another.)

He's wrapping up his last client of the day when Y/N peeks into his station, waving with a small smile. Harry's stoic and focused expression instantly transforms into one of excitement.  

"Hey dove," he greets as he tears off a clear piece of plastic to cover his client's new tattoo. (Y/N's since learned that it's called Saniderm, and it's apparently some way of helping fresh tattoos heal faster.) "You can put your stuff down in my office, I'll be there in a sec."

She nods and bounces off to the small room at the end of the hallway. Instantly, she lays back against the velvet couch in the corner, placing her backpack on the floor. As promised, Harry walks in a few minutes later, pulling off his plastic gloves and tossing them in the garbage can. 

"How was your day?" he asks, leaning down to peck her lips. She hums, hands in her lap as he smiles down at her.

"Good. Class was boring, I was excited to come see you."

"Oh yeah?" he smirks, "You better have been paying attention and not letting your mind wander with those dirty thoughts of yours."

Y/N rolls her eyes. "Harry, you're the one that tries to have phone sex, like, every night."

"We'll get there one day, I think."

She laughs and shakes her head, crossing her legs. "What are you in the mood to eat for dinner tonight?"

"Mm, not sure," he replies, "I forgot, I have one deal to do before we head out for the day. 's why I came around to begin with. I hope that's alright."

She nods her head, "Yeah, that's fine."

"Thanks, princess," he murmurs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to her nose. "Who'd have thought, three months ago yo@u'd be dating the hot tattoo artist that sells weed on the side?"

"You're silly," she mumbles with a giggle, "But... to be honest, I never thought this is what my life would look like three months ago."

"I'm sure. Are you happy with it, though?"

Y/N has to bite her lip from grinning too hard. 

"I don't think I could be any happier, Harry."

She squeals when he pushes her back against the length of the sofa to press kisses all over her face.

. . .

TAGS:

I know I asked people forever ago if they wanted to be tagged for my new writing and I'm literally just doing it now grjetkjre but please feel free to message me if that's changed ! (if your name is in italics it didn't work!)

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @cookielovesbook-akie @cali-888 @harrysolaf @gnomerry @vamprry @onllyyaangelbyhs @harrystylessslut @lovelylly @straightontilmornin @rizosrizo26 @redlightalexa @velvetballaspark @uniquesexything @canyonmoondreams @ghoststyles @whoreonmondays @esnyhoney @imnevergonnabloganything @honeyharlows @gem1712 @harryscherri @forgetdelaney

[evielmostdefinitely]

a hazy shade of winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: wedding nuptials and coriolanus' upcoming inauguration, leads to press.

my first work lol <3 reader's surname is "duke" for the series. i picture the duke family being a rothschild similar type if that makes sense???

contains: possessive snow, nothing too graphic, he's manipulative and a little dark. established relationship. mentions of corio's mom. alludes to smut but none.

Coriolanus stared back at his own reflection, fastening the buttons to his shirt. A nicer fabric, Tigris still selected it but did not have to mend it together like before. No, now the Snow’s were back in power, still climbing that ladder of socialites and success- thanks to you. 

A small rapping on the door pulled his attention. “Just a moment.” Corio huffed, looking at the clock. Flickerman’s producer said nine sharp, he still had twenty minutes. 

The rapping didn’t stop, following again, heavier this time. Corio’s spine straightened, icy with fear. His mind raced with possibilities- a rebel outside the door, here to kill him; or perhaps it was the guards, they’d found the guns he threw in the river years ago and we're here for him too. 

Corio reached for his own weapon, slinking to the door, peeking under the crack. Two white heels. 

“Corio,” Your voice whispered, a hint of a giggle. “Let me in, Corio.” 

Coriolanus relaxed, setting the weapon down, tucked under his jacket. The door opened, you in your pristine white outfit, the sapphire fixture on your ring finger. “What are you doing?” Corio scanned the hall. “You’re supposed to be in your dressing room.” 

“Tigris finished with me.” You waved him off, slipping under his arm into his own dressing room. “She went to join my parents in the audience, and I wanted to see you.” You hum, eyes rolling down his frame. 

Corio scoffed lightly, shutting the door. “This is improper.” 

“I think they’ll forgive us, Corio.” You giggle. “We are married.” Your hand laid gently against his chest, smoothing out a crease on his collar, engagement ring sparkling even in the low light of the room. 

Corio’s hand found yours, admiring the ring himself. His mother’s ring turned yours, one of the few items he had left of hers- that they hadn’t lost or sold to stay afloat. He added the halo of diamonds. After all, he was marrying into the Duke family, he needed it to be flashy- to be worthy. 

“We’re not married yet, my love.” Corio muttered, thumb swiping over the ring. “Still two more sleeps.” 

“And a press conference,” You sighed, leaning into his soft touch. “And a press tour.” 

It had been your father’s idea. Coriolanus was to be President come the new term, and since marrying into Panem’s wealthiest, the press tour to each District seemed fitting. The communication was less and less now, Corio wanted to keep it that way, but have them still feel involved. Your father loved the idea. 

“Mmm, but a solo press tour.” Corio hummed, nose brushing against yours gently. “Just us for weeks, days on the train. By ourselves.” His voice rapeseed, tone dropping to that dark octave that left you squirming, tummy flipping with excitement. 

“We won’t really be alone.” You pouted, lip jutting in a petulant sort of sulk. It made Corio’s lip twitch. “There will be the peacekeepers and guards and Tigris and-” 

“-But we’ll have a whole carriage to ourselves. A private one. I’ve made sure of it.” Coriolanus nodded, the pad of his thumb brushing over your lip. “Just for us. A honeymoon before we come back.” 

You smiled softly, hands raking up the soft fabric of his shirt, careful not to bunch or wrinkle the fabric- you knew how much he hated that. Corio’s hands found your waist, pulling you into him, lips slotting over yours. He always took the lead, and you’d let him, his domineering personality never settling even in moments of intimacy. 

Two sharp knocks pulled the two of you away, Coriolanus pausing rigidly. “Come in,” You called, your hand moving respectfully to his arm, smoothing out your skirt. 

“Ah, the love birds.” Lucky Flickerman grinned. “See, Juno, I told you they’d be together, and it looks like they’re decent.” 

Corio’s face swelled with heat, mouth settling in a fine, thin line. Once he was sworn into oath, he’d have his tongue cut out for that vulgar comment. Your hand squeezed his bicep lightly, soothingly. 

“So, I wanted to give you the run down before we are live on the air to all of Panem.” Lucky grinned, you knew he was smug at his rising fame. “President Snow and the First Lady… Do you want me to address you as Snow or Duke?” 

“Snow.” Corio hissed before you could respond. His hand was firm on your waist, pulling you possessively into him. “She is a Snow, now.” 

Lucky blinked, awkwardly cutting his eyes to you. “Right. So President and First Lady Snow, we’ll talk about the wedding- the dress, the ring, the proposal, the details, the guest list. Really lean into that, ok? Get the viewers excited for the district press tour after.” 

You nodded, Lucky’s droning instructions a blur to you. Your eyes caught sight of your and Coriolanus in the mirror. How tall he stood next to you, proud and boasted- powerful. He always had his chin held high, looking down his nose at others. You were just glad he had lessened the way he’d glare down at you, traded it in for a softer side you weren’t sure you’d ever see. 

His hand stayed on the small of your back, respectfully, but holding that same ownership, leading you through the small studio. “You look beautiful.” Corio whispered, pushing a loose strand of hair back into place, tucking it behind your ear. 

You blushed under his praise, looking down at your white kitten heels. “Don’t do that.” Corio frowned, hand pressing into the middle of your spine. “Stand up, darling. Don’t hide from them. Let them know.” 

You followed him out, hand in hand, waving to the studio audience under blinding lights. Since the success of the Hunger Games, the donors- your family included- had poured in money to have the studio revamped. Something nice, more enticing. Your father and mother sat next to Tigris. Your fathers eyes were narrowed, watchful in nearly a predatory sense, a warning to the both of you. 

“Mr. and Mr. Snow,” Lucky grinned, a toothy smile that dazzled under the lights. “Or so it will be soon, yes? The wedding is…” 

“In two days.” Coriolanus nodded, shoulders squared, eyes sparkling, his hand rested on your knee. 

“Marvelous, just marvelous. And what a beautiful couple they are, aren’t they?” Lucky turned to the audience, nodding at their applause. 

You felt hot, skin boiling under the harsh lights, under your father and Corio’s even harsher stares. The pressure to not falter, not even for a moment, was making you dizzy. Do not stutter, sit up straight, smile. 

“And don’t forget, President Snow and his First Lady will be making their way to each of the Districts out there before the Inauguration and of course, before the fifteenth Hunger Games.” Lucky called exaggeratedly, clapping with his cards with the audience. “Don’t forget to join us for the reapings, it’s only a month away, folks. And as always, Panem today, Panem tomorrow, and Panem forever.” 

A pause and it was done. The lights went up, producers nodding, pulling out screens and wires. You looked to Coriolanus, but his attention was elsewhere. 

“That was amazing.” Tigris greeted you with a warm smile. “You did not have to mention me as your designer. I told you to say the company-” 

“-The company didn’t design my dress, you did.” You nodded, squeezing her arm affectionately. “And I’m not letting that bitter, miserable woman get the credit that you deserved, Tigris.” 

Tigris beamed, hugging you briefly, before your father made his slow approach, your mother on his arm. He took slow, calculated steps, looking nearly bored, unimpressed. It made Corio’s heart race- he wanted to mimic it, perfect it to have the same reaction. 

“My girl,” Your father gave a half smile, lips curling in nearly a snarl. “You did wonderful.” 

“Thank you,” You nodded politely. “I was afraid I spoke too much.” 

“Nonsense,” Your mother waved you off lightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You did marvelous.” Her eyes cut over to Coriolanus. “You as well, dear.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Duke.” Corio nodded, hands clasped behind his back respectfully. 

“Are you happy, boy?” Your father looked at Corio, eyes beady and sharpened. “Excited for the wedding? The inauguration?” It was no secret your father and his pull were behind the election, Corio knew that. 

“Of course,” Corio nodded, his hand finding yours gently, squeezing it. “I’m overjoyed, Mr. Duke. Moreso for the wedding, of course, but the inauguration as well. It will be hard to replace President Ravinstill but-” 

Your father lifted his hand. “Save it, boy. This isn’t a political rally, you’ve already won.” He scoffed, shaking his head. You didn’t miss the way Coriolauns stiffened, his grip tightening on your hand. “As long as you keep my daughter happy, then you have my support.”

“Thank you, sir.” Corio forced out a smile through clenched teeth. 

“The rehearsal dinner is tomorrow. At the Trinket Estate Gardens, dear.” Your mother nodded at you, like you’d forget. 

“I’ll see you then.” You hugged her briefly. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Of course, darling girl.” Your father hugged you, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “I wouldn’t miss it.” 

He shook Corio’s hand firmly, a shake and a head nod before they were both whisked off, chatting to his other friends who showed. Corio wished he would have introduced him to a few, helped him build a rapport that way. There would be time, he reminded himself. 

“Tigris,” You held Corio’s arm, craning around him towards his cousin on his other arm. “The white rose was a lovely touch.” You smiled, looking down at your corsage. 

“Oh, that was Coriolanus’ idea.” Tigris hummed, looking at the blonde next to her. “He wanted you to have that.” 

You beamed, looking up at your fiance. “You wanted me to have it?” 

“I thought it was a nice touch.” Corio hummed, glancing down at you. “Thought you would enjoy it.” 

“I do,” You mutter, lifting his hand to yours, lips brushing across his knuckles. Normally, he’d scold you for doing it in public. He was against any signs of PDA, a sign of weakness, he said. But he allowed it, even blushing from underneath his stiff collar. 

“Save the I do’s for tomorrow.” Tigris grinned playfully at you. “What are you doing on your last night as a Duke? Going to District Two?” 

Coriolanus glared at her, jaw set firmly. You shook your head lightly. “Packing.” You sighed. “We leave from the reception straight to the train.” 

“Oh, I can help you-” 

“-That’s alright.” You shake your head politely. “It’s just a few things. Sleepwear, toiletries- minimal things. But thank you.” 

Tigris nodded back, pulling from Coriolanus gently. “I’ll wait for you in the car?” 

“Go ahead without us.” Corio nodded. “We have to speak to a few sponsors after.” 

Tigris nodded, waving goodbye to the both of you politely. You stepped into Corio’s dressing room, smoothing out your skirt. “We have to speak to sponsors?” You hummed, reaching for your zipper. “I thought you already did that?” 

“I did.” Corio’s tone was chilling, clicking the lock to the door behind you. You stilled, eyes catching his gaze through the mirror. 

Coriolanus stepped towards you, slow, calculated, with heavy footsteps. He grinned, satisfied, at how you shivered. His hands moved yours, unzipping your dress slowly. You stayed still, watching him for any sign of what was to come. You knew he’d never hurt you, purposefully, never risk what would happen if he laid a hand on you. Still, Corio was unpredictable- you hated the way it excited you. 

“I just wanted a moment alone with my wife.” Corio’s breath was hot on the shell of your ear, shuddering under his touch when he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, exposing you. Bruising love bites on your chest from the night before. You wondered if his back still bore your long scratches from where you’d clawed and raked at his skin. 

“‘M not your wife yet, Corio.” You met his gaze, rounded eyes that had his cock twitching. “Still another two sleeps.” You repeated his words from earlier, the tiniest grin on your lips. 

“How do you want to spend your last night as a Duke, my love?” Corio’s lips ghosted over the skin of your cheek, hands gripping your waist. 

“With you.” You whispered, leaning back against him. “I want to spend it with you, Coriolanus.” 

Corio grinned, salacious and satisfied, fingers splaying over your jaw, holding you while he kissed you, slowly, passionately. Your pristine dress was on the floor, his hands in your hair, legs tangled around his waist while he melted you with every hot kiss.

[needle-noggins]

(CW for SA, suicidal ideation) Here we go. My favorite and simultaneously least favorite panel of Vash and Knives.

I've seen a few interpretations of this scene and before we dive into the one that really struck me, let's start with the more... chill one. We're finally introduced to the third gun of Trigun, Vash's angel arm. And the way we're introduced to it involves Knives forcing him to pull the trigger. Of course, since no one knows anything about Knives, the people of Noman's Land blame Vash for Fifth Moon, and Vash likewise blames himself (this is kinda a spoiler but if you've been paying attention, it's just par for the course). However, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, Knives is. It brings up an interesting moral question of blame - do we blame the gun (and Vash, who is being used/objectified as a weapon here), or the person who wanted it to happen? Guns don't kill people, genocidal twins do!

Now for the awful interpretation, the one that makes me cry and wish Vash was real so I could hug him and pay for his therapy. And really highlights how awful Knives is and how far he'd go for his brother in his own, fucked-up way. I touched on this in a previous post about Legato and the Murder Cafe, and the whole time I was thinking about Fifth Moon but didn't want to say anything for the sake of spoilers.

So. Pay attention to the way Vash and Knives are standing. Knives, when he first grabbed Vash's head, was standing in front of him. He moves behind him to better control him and yeah, he's still controlling him via hand on head, and now he's got his other hand gripping Vash's chest, where feathers/wings are manifesting. Knives is assaulting him. If you wanna get crazy with it and say that the angel arm is kinda phallic, you could say... yeah. This is rape. I heard that specific interpretation once and while I accepted it I also don't know if that would be generally accepted or if I'd be called out for it, so I'm trying to tread lightly here.

It also doesn't escape me that of course the angel arm has feminine features like the plants - the plants that, again, humans are exploiting for their ability to create. There's a lot of feminist commentary to be made here but many people have said it better than me. Specifically I'm thinking of this one post I saw about gender fuckery and Tristamp Vash. Anyway.

Also, the atomic bomb/black hole/sun/whatever that is in the middle... It's just so powerful. It's terrifying. The eldritch body horror here is a punch to the gut. What the fuck, Trigun? I thought this was a funky space western!!!

Oh, and here's more commentary on the following few panels:

Vashussy shot, Knives is still right behind him. Yeah, I wasn't kidding about how bad this pose is for them. Knives, you sick fuck.

Vash shoots himself in the leg (a key difference from '98 trigun, lol), because of course he does, but it doesn't free him from the arm.

The arm's getting darker/the light inside is getting lighter! Stampede did an awesome job with their interpretation of the angel arm and I don't think I would have understood it without that. Also, on my first read I didn't notice that Vash is literally levitating, which is cool, but also terrifying because ?? he's not in control of that either??

Finally. A super painful, minimalist, double-page spread. Nightow loves 'em. Vash thinks he's dying (maybe?) and he wishes he had never existed. It's not suicidal ideation per se, but he wishes he didn't exist at all because he's already caused enough suffering. This is a low for him, because he believes so strongly in the concept of the Blank Ticket. (Come on, soupy brain bitch boy, get it together!) He's a monster, it's just how he was born, and he's not in control. Very specifically too, he says "we", and then changes it to "I"... he doesn't blame Knives at all, and that's very him. I want to shake him! Stop playing the martyr, Vash!

[samandcolbyownme]

Wet Dreams | Colby Brock

Prompt: Colby telling reader,  "Were you dreaming about me again, sweetheart?"

Summary: After a night of drinking with your best friend, you guys walk to her boyfriend, Sam's house to crash, and his friend, Colby, is there. You’ve had wet dreams about him, but you don’t know that he knows until he tells you.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, alcohol consumption, oral (f rec), biting, scratching, choking, rough/semi forceful actions, unprotected sex, creampie, [mostly cute] name calling, praising, literal filth

Word count: 3.6k | somewhat edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You were feeling tipsy by the second drink, and you were drunk by the fourth.

Those double shots will do it.

"Why don't you go talk to him?" Y/f/n says nudging you out of your stare on a random guy at the bar, "You've been staring long enough." She finishes her drink, "Or is it because he kinda looks like Colby?"

Your head snaps towards her and you shake your head, laughing slightly as you feel your cheeks getting warmer, "No, no. That's not wh-"

"How long have we been friends?" She tilts her head as she looks at you, causing you to sigh, "Forever."

"Exactly. So why don't you just tell Co-"

"He doesn't like me back." You say looking down. Y/f/n leans in slightly, "Did he tell you that himself?" You shake your head, "No, bu-"

"No. No buts. You're going to get drunk, then we're going to walk to Sam's house and you-"

"Whoa, wait. We're sleeping at Sam's?" You ask knowing there's a good chance Colby will be there too, "I didn't know this."

"I told you before we came here, stop trying to find excuses not to spill your feelings for Colby." She pushes your shoulder gently, "I'm telling you, y/n. Just talk to him. You never know what might happen."

She turns to get another drunk and you sigh, thinking about what she said. You've had a huge crush on Colby, ever since Sam introduced you guys to him.

You've hung out multiple times and yeah, maybe there something there, but you're scared it's just you feeling that way.

"Here. Drink up." Y/f/n shoves a glass into your hand and turns to grab hers, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check it, "Oh. Here." She holds her phone up, taking a selfie as you smile with your cheek pressed against hers.

"Saving that." She says with a smile, "We look so drunk, but still cute! Now let's dance a little before we leave."

A little turned into two more hours of drinking and dancing, your heels hurt your feet, you're aching to get out of them, but that's not the only thing you're aching for.

Colby's smile flashes in your mind, along with the thought of his ring covered fingers dragging up and down your skin and touching you where you needed him most.

"I told Sam we'll be on our way soon, so one more drink?" She bites her lip as she looks at you, waiting for you to agree.

You think about it for a moment before letting out a sigh, "One more couldn't hurt."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Shut up. No that picture is atrocious." You groan as you snatch y/f/n's phone from her. You both can't walk in a straight line so save your lives, so you're bumping into each other every other minute.

"No it's cute!" She bites her lip taking her phone back, "I also may have sent this to Colby." She turns her phone and it's a, not bad at all, picture of you standing at the bar. Your dress was riding up a little too high, almost revealing your ass.

"No." You mumble out, "Tell me you didn't!"

"I did. And I'm not sorry."

You pretended to hate her for it, but that quickly vanished as you actually love her for it.

"There they are." Sam says walking out of the door, "How was it?" You both start giggling and he raises his eyebrows, "Oh, wonderful. You're both still drunk." He laughs with a sigh, "Come on. I got pizza for you guys."

"Ooh, pizza." You and your friend look at each other and laugh because you said the same thing at the same time.

"Oh, y/n." Sam says getting your attention. You look up at him, still smiling. He looks over at y/f/n and back to you, "Colby is here."

Your smile drops and your anxiety starts to race, and it's worse because you're drunk, but you play it cool, "No surprise there." You laugh slightly and walk in with your friend.

"Colby! They're here." Sam announces as he shuts the door. You turn, eyes wide, "You didn't have to announce it." You mumble through gritted teeth. He smirks and walks over to y/f/n, hugging her from behind.

Your eyes stay on them as they smile and laugh, wishing that was you and Colby.

"Well hello, hello." Colby says as he walks down the steps, "On a scale from one to ten, how drunk are we tonight?"

Colby's presence makes you nervous, you don't want to make a fool of yourself. Y/f/n giggles, "I'm at an eight right now." She looks over at me and raises her eyebrows.

You sigh and set your purse on the counter, "I'm ready for bed." You walk towards Colby to go upstairs and you avoid eye contact as you walk by him.

But you can tell his eyes are on you the whole time.

You can hear y/f/n trying to whisper but you hear everything, "I tried to talk to her, I even told her about the picture I sent to you. I don't know why-"

Her voice fades out as you walk into where she keeps her clothes. You didn't bring anything, considering you forgot you were coming to Sam's.

As your rummaging through your friends drawer of the dresser, something lands on your head and you can hear Colby trying not to laugh. You pull the shirt from your head, turning to look at him.

"Thought you'd be more comfortable in that." He smirks slightly as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the door way, "If you need anything else, let me know."

His eyes move up and down your low-coverage dress and he tilts his head before walking away. You stand there, slightly dumbfounded but you roll with it.

You make your way to the bathroom, switching the shower on before stepping in. You gasp at how good the water feels on your drunk body, but you sober up a little by the time you get out. You wrap a towel around your body, peaking out before you make your way to find y/f/n.

You know on their door and you can hear Sam talking on the other side but he tells a quick, "Come in." You open the door slightly peaking your head in, "Y/f/n?"

Sam reaches over from his desk and taps her ankle, "Babe, y/n wants you." She groans as she sits up but trudges over to you, "Talk to Colby yet?"

"N-no. That's not why I'm here. I need underwear." You say quietly. She giggles slightly, fighting back saying any kind of comment, "Mhm."

She walks over, grabbing a pair from her drawer, "These are new, but they won't be after tonight." She winks and you roll your eyes, "Sure."

You pull the door shut, turning to walk back down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms and freeze when Colby walks out of the other one.

"Hey." He smiles, and god do you love his smile. You smirk slightly, giving him a low, "Hey" as you walk by him.

"Wait." He says and you stop instantly, hesitating to spin towards him, but you do, "What's up?" He steps towards you, looking down at you as he gets closer. His chest is inches away from yours and he sighs, "The dress you wore tonight, made it so fucking hard for me to not come down there and take you out of that place."

Your breath hitches and you grip your towel tighter, actually wanting him to rip it off of you, but you couldn't muster up enough confidence so you just force a small smile, "Really? Why?"

He chuckles lowly, "I think you know why." He walks down the steps, looking back at you from over his shoulder before disappearing into another room.

Why couldn't I just fucking do it, you think as you mentally beat yourself up, get over yourself, Jesus Christ.

You make your way into the room you're staying in for the night and change into the shirt Colby threw at you. You pull it up, smelling it to see if it smells like him, and it does.

You fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling until you eventually pass out.

"Yeah, baby. Just like that." Colby moans into your ear as he has his cock buried deep into your aching cunt.

You whimper out as his hand slides up, squeezing the sides of your neck, slowly adding pressure.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart." His voice is low and deep, groans escape his lips with each slow thrusts into you, "C'mon baby. I need to hear it."

"Y-ou.. Colby." You whimper out, "I want you. All of you."  You reach back to grab his arm but he pins it to your lower back, "Say it again." He releases the grip on your throat and slides his hand up the back of your scalp and grips a handful of hair.

"Colby." You gasp out, "Fuck, yes. Please. Please. I need you. I need yo-"

You gasp awake, sitting straight up as you look around the semi dark room. You sit in silence, trying to hear if anyone is up, if anyone heard anything from you.

You hear Sam and Colby yelling back and forth, they must be playing their games, so they must have headsets on, so they probably didn't hear you.

Or so you thought.

You swallow, wincing at how dry your throat is. You get up, slowly and quietly making your way to the door and slowly opening it. You peak your head out, looking down the empty hall before stepping out and making your way down stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

But what you didn't know, is that Colby's door was open, just enough to see you move past.

As you're standing in the kitchen, eating a slice of cold pizza, you feel a presence move into the room and you freeze.

Please don't be Colby, you think repeatedly, please don't be Colby.

"What are you doing up?" Colby's voice flows through the room, "I thought you'd be knocked out like y/f/n is."

You shrug, "I needed a drink and then I got hungry." You glance over at his shirtless figure and back down to your glass of water before taking a big gulp.

You set your pizza crust down and lay your hands on the counter, "Well, I'm going to get back to bed." You walk around the other side of the island, but you're stopped by an arm extended over your chest, "Now hang on."

You feel cornered, but you really aren't putting up any kind of fight.You stand there, slowly looking up at him, "I hung on, can I go to-"

His bluntness cuts you off, "Were you dreaming about me again, sweetheart?"

You stand there, staring at him in a shocked and embarrassed state, "I-i, no. Why.. why would you-"

He smirks, moving his body closer to yours, "I heard you. So no need to pretend you weren't."

"You heard, what exactly?" You ask trying to see if he really knows. His hand comes up, his thumb lightly drags against your bottom lip, "my name, a few times."

He slides his hand to cup your cheek, "and some other sounds I wish I couldn't heard better."

Your breath hitches as his hands slide down your sides, "I knew you would look good in this shirt." You look down at his shirt but his hand quickly lifts your chin and his lips are on yours and you give in fully to him.

"Colby." You whimper against his lips as he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into him, "Please."

He smirks as he leans back, "Not until you tell me what you were dreaming about." He lifts you up into the counter, "I want to know what I was doing to you in that pretty little mind of yours."

You let out a low groan as he leans in to kiss your neck slowly, "come on, baby. Be a good girl and te-"

Being called a good girl seemed to be the key.

"Can we go upstairs? I don't want anyone else hearing this." You bite your lip as you lean back and he nods, "C'mon." He slides you off the counter and your hand is still in his as he takes you upstairs into the room you're staying in.

He shuts the door and your back is instantly pressed to it, his voice is low, "Start talking, princess." He presses his lips to yours, "I want to feel you sooner than later."

He lifts you up and your legs wrap around his waist, "I was.." you breathe out as you look down at him, "dreaming about you.. and me." You run a hand through his hard hair and bite your lip, "You buried yourself in me as you choked me."

His breath hitches and he clears his throat, "Is that all?"

You shake your head and lean in to kiss him. Your lips move in sync for a couple of moments before you pull away just enough to speak, "You were telling me to beg for you basically, telling me to tell you that I needed you."

He tilts his head back, licking his lips as he walks you over to the bed, "I've dreamed of having you beg for me." He lays you down, his body perfectly still between your thighs.

"Please, Colby." You lay a hand on his cheek and he smirks, "Please what, baby?"

"Fuck me." You whisper almost inaudible, "I need you."

His lips crash onto yours, making out with you until you drag your nails down his back. "Fuck." He groans lowly as he sits up. You whimper at the loss of his touch and go to sit up, but stops you, "Just lay back, princess. Let me take care of you."

You bite your lip, lying back as you await his touch. You feel his hands slide up your legs, "You're so beautiful." He whispers, "I should have just came and got you."

He dips his head in, licking up your pussy which causes you to moan and you slap a hand over your mouth, not wanting to disturb the others.

"Mm, move that hand. I wanna hear you." Colby looks up at you and you move your hand and look down to meet his gaze. You watch him as he grips your thighs, going back to enjoying how you taste on his tongue.

"Colby.." you whine out and tangle your fingers in his hair, "Fuck, so close." You whimper and tug his hair, earning a low groan.

He slides his hand over, his middle finger rubbing circles on your clit as he whispers a low, "Cum for me, baby."

You grind your hips against his hand and mouth, moaning as you arch your back off the bed, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He groans as you clench around his tongue, desperate for that first orgasm. You gasp loudly as it hits, slightly twisting your body as he keeps your hips pinned down.

"Shit." You say breathless as he stands up. Your eyes move to him and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him discard his sweats, leaving him naked.

He crawls back up, "How was I fucking you in that dream you had?" He brushes hair from your face and smirks down at you, "I just want to make it come true."

You smile and tilt your head, "You had me flipped over, ass in the air."

"Roll over." He leans up, watching as you comply with his demand, "Shit." His hands lay on your ass and he squeezes, "so fucking sexy."

You him lowly as you wiggle your hips, "Colby.. baby please.."  he smiles at you calling him baby, "What do you want?"

"You." You say instantly, "You, Colby. Please.. I need to have your cock inside me." You whimper and push your hips back, "Please."

He slides his hands up your back and lightly drags his nails against your skin on the way back towards your ass. His actions send chills up your spine and you moan, "Colby.."

He lifts himself up, positioning his cock at the entrance of your needy cunt, "Keep begging, baby." He rubs the head of his cock against you before pushing in, groaning out as you clench around him, "Fuck, y/n."

His hands grip your hips tight and his eyes roll shut as his hips meet your ass, "What do you want me to do?"

"Choke me.. please." You tilt your head up and he slides his hand up around your neck, squeezing slowly, "Never pictured you to be this much of a little slut baby."

There's no hesitation when you answer him, "Only for you."

And he loved it.

His hand squeezes around your throat, hard as he starts thrusting his cock in and out, "You feel so fucking good." He groans out, "Let me hear you, baby."

You let out a moan, gripping the blankets below you as his thrusts become punishing. You feel that build up again, moaning out as you much as his hand on your throat will allow.

"Tell me what you want." He says as he lets go of your throat, "Tell me what you need from me." His hand tangles in your hair and he tilts your head back, whispering in your ear, "Do you want me to fill that pretty pussy for you?"

"Y-yes." You gasp out and push your hips back, "Yes, yesyesyes." You squeeze his cock and he groans, "Fuck, not gunna last much longer, princess." He kisses the back of your shoulder, biting and sucky a hicky onto your skin, "You sure you want that?"

You moan, "Colby, yes. I need you to cum in my pussy."

He moans at your words, thrusting his cock in and out of you slowly, "Cum for me first, okay? Then you can have me."

You reach back to grab his arm but he pins it to your lower back and lets go of your hair. He leans back up, keeping a hold of your arm and your hip, "Fuck, fuck."

You rest your head down, moaning into the bed as you cum around his cock. He reaches down, grabbing your hair and tilting your head up, "Don't hide those pretty sounds from me, princess."

Your eyes roll back as another surprise orgasm comes back and slams into you. Colby raises his eyebrows, "Fuck, again?" He smirks and listens as you whine out for him.

Moaning his name over and over again.

You were completely his.

You are his.

"Sh-shit." He grips your hips with both hands and pulls you back as he pushes his cock all the way in, fucking his cum into you as deep as he can.

"Holy fuck." He sighs as he pulls out, laying beside you to make sure you're okay, "Y/n?" He whispers, "Look at me."

Your body rests flat on the bed and you turn your head to look at him. He brings his fingers up to gently grip your chin, "You alright?"

You nod against the bed, "Mhm." He smiles and leans over to kiss your forehead, "So was that better than your dreams?"

You nod and sit up slightly, "How did you know I had more than one?"

He smiles and licks his lips, "Remember last week when we were driving around looking for that one bridge?"

You nod and he continues, "Well you fell asleep right before Sam and Y/f/n went into the store, and you were whimpering my name."

"Oh." You blush slightly, "Sorry."

He shakes his head, "No, no. I felt honored that you were dreaming about me." He bites his lip as his eyes can over your face, "Took all I had not to wake you up and fuck you right there in the backseat."

Your lips twitch into a smirk, "Well I give you full permission to do it next time. And the time after that, and any time you want."

He pulls you in and kisses you, "Deal."

The next morning, you wake up, snuggled against Colby's side with his arm around you. Your back is to the door, with the hickey he gave you on your shoulder on full display to y/f/n who was nosey and looked in because Colby wasn't in his room.

You heard quiet whispering but shrugged it off until Sam yells, "It's about fucking time." You jump slightly and Colby sits up, making sure you're covered, "Dude!"

Sam laughs, "I thought that's why you got off last night. Good for you guys."

"Yeah, thanks. Thanks." You rub your eyes and run a hand through your hair, "Now beat it."

They hold their hands up and Sam points, "Have fun you two."

"Bye Sam." Colby says still holding the blanket over your body until the two leave and close the door. You look at Colby with a laugh, "I think they're more excited than us."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to see anything specific, just message me!

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Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[obsessedduh]

genre: smut and fluff!!

cw: implied fem reader, overstimulation and sweet and silly sex. that's it!

side note: sorry, i haven't been as frequent as i used to, and decided to make this though i'm hella sick as an apology 😭. also got hella lazy to do a proof read so sorry if it's shit. OH AND THANK YOU SM FOR 800+ AND IN LIKE THREE MONTHS TOO!? FUCKING LOVE YOU LOT!! 😭😭

similar post —> here

MDNI – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

simon 'ghost' riley with a dorky wife who works at a zoo? like when you guys were on your first date and you told him you work with animals for a living, he was hooked, interested even. he literally felt like he wanted to buy a ring and propose to you there and then.

so when he comes home from work and you rush up to him and also hug him, saying how much you missed him. it shocks him. c'mon. you're dealing with a man who barely had affection in his childhood. of course he's happy, coming home to see his gorgeous fucking wife so happy to see him. it's batshit crazy to him how he even got the chance to marry a pretty thing like you.

it doesn't take long before you usher him onto the couch and give him his dinner and sit next to him, blabbering about what happened at work the same day. he just stares at you with a blank expression, causing you to wonder if you're talking too much. he notices how your face alters, and he looks back at his food and continues eating it, "so how's alina, she doin' ok?"

alina? the pregnant white tiger you mentioned a couple months ago? he remembered! you instantly perked up and started yapping again. it took everything in simon to not smile at your cuteness, he loves how cute you are. espically in the bedroom.

gosh how much he much loves your facial expressions when his cock abuses your poor pussy. staring at the way your pretty face contorts into a pleased expression when fingers runs up your thigh to your pussy to tease your clit. watching as his name falls out that pretty little mouth of yours. gawking as your wetness coats his length with a white ring.

you bite your lip, slowly becoming obsessed with simon's hypnotic touch. he leans down to capture your swollen and bitten lips into a sloppy kiss, touching intertwining in a heated kiss, one that has you moaning into the kiss like a desperate love-sick puppy.

he pulls away, a trail of spit running down your chin, proof of the kiss you shared. he thrusts his hips little faster, his cock stretching you ever so good. he ogles you as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl. you let out a drawn-out moan as you cover his cock with your currently pending orgasm. he fucks and praise you through it, grinning at the way your face scrunches up when you feel the overstimulation creeping up to you.

he doesn't stop though, still fucking you stupid. he thrusts into your pathetically soaked cunt. his tip bumping against your cervix. you whine from the painfully pleasuring sensation in your lower core. tears prickling up in your eyes.

"sh baby, don' cry. i know know... it's t'much, but you can take it, princess? can' you? yeah? there's my good girl, taking my cock s'well?" he coos in your ear, his words are as sweet as lullaby. the movement of his hips beginning to go incoherent, indicating he's gonna cum soon.

"gonna cum, love. wanna cum with me... yeah, i know you do. cmon cum with me, love." he again, coos in your ear, this time his voice is breathy with a slight rasp.

you blabber and moan out as you squirt around his length once again. your hands gripping desperately his arms to stabilise yourself when your thighs begin to shake and tremble. he buries his creamy white deep inside of you, groaning as your pussy milks him dry.

he slowly pulls out, his cock now flaccid and resting on your thigh. you both pant, tired from your session.

"hey, maybe if we're lucky, you could get pregnan' like alina, hm?"

"you're honestly such a dickhead simon."

"awww... c'mon, you know you love me."

you both laugh like high-school children and then he places a soft kiss to your forehead.

"let's get cleaned up, yeah?"

"sounds like a date."

he let's out another chuckle at your words. "mhm..."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

wanna know more about me —> here

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[roosterforme]

Go Big or Go Home | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Once your husband gets going, it's hard to reel him in again. Now that you've told everyone that you're pregnant, you realize he's always going to go a little over the top for you and the baby. But you let him get away with it, because nothing feels quite as important as the love he has for you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, slight angst, pregnancy topics

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

You sat in a lounge chair on your back patio, sipping some Gatorade in your oversized sunglasses and watching your sweaty husband doing yard work. He started out an hour ago with a shirt on, but he discarded that in favor of showing off his glistening torso for your entertainment. At least that's what you told yourself. 

"Roo! Come take a break!"

Bradley turned and looked at you as he wiped his brow with his forearm. "Sweetheart. No breaks. I want to get as much done as I can around here now so you don't have to worry about it later."

You sighed. He was going to wear himself out with projects leading up to his deployment. You loved that he wanted to leave you without a dripping faucet in the kitchen and without weeds in the backyard, but sending him off away in a few days if he wasn't well rested was going to spell disaster.

"If I need something done while you're away, I'll call Jake or Cam."

Bradley scoffed but dropped the rake he was using and headed your way in his low slung jeans. "I can't let another man do my yard work. That absolutely goes against guy code." He started to lean down for a kiss, and he smelled so good, you moaned before he even touched you. "Hey now," he said with a smirk, pausing a few inches from your lips. "I have an idea."

"Tell me," you whined.

His smirk grew. "Something that might successfully lure me away from my projects?"

"Yes, we can fuck," you told him immediately, but instead of kissing your lips, he chuckled and dropped to his knees next to your lounger and ran his nose along your shirt. 

"Hold that thought, because we will be doing that later." He nudged the shirt fabric up until his lips met the bare skin of your belly, kissing his new favorite spot on your body. "Hey, little Nugget," he whispered, and your heart melted as you ran your fingers through his sweaty hair. "Think Mommy will go for our scheme?"

You laughed. "You're scheming with the baby? Already?"

"Oh yeah," he told you with a serious nod. "Here's what we're gonna do."

"This should be good," you muttered as he kissed you one more time before pulling your shirt back down.

"How about instead of chores, we spend the rest of the day shopping for baby stuff?"

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You were just barely into your second trimester, and it felt early to be buying too many things at this point, but the eager look on Bradley's face had you agreeing. "I'll let you pick out one thing."

His eyes lit up, and you should have known what was coming. "Let's make it five things."

"Bradley," you groaned, and he started kissing your lips in earnest until you giggled. "Fine! Three things! Final offer!"

"Sold."

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

"I love this store," Bradley said as he held your hand and walked around the enormous baby depot.

"You've only been here one time!" you reminded him. "And we were shopping for a gift for someone else's baby."

He recalled that day perfectly. It was when you and he both admitted you wanted kids, and he hadn't stopped thinking about expanding his family with you since then. "I still love it," he said, pulling you toward the baby clothes. He desperately wanted to buy his child their first outfit, but he didn't know what would be suitable. Something told him he'd know what he wanted when he saw it.

The main issue he was having right now was your libido. He'd skipped a shower in favor of coming right here, and somehow you seemed even worse than usual. Even more wound up. "You smell so good," you whispered, pressing yourself against him as soon as he stopped to look around. Even as he throbbed for you, he told himself he needed to stay on task.

"Baby Girl, I will let you do anything you want to me," he swore, and your eyes glittered. "Later. After I pick out my three things for the Nugget."

"Well, hurry up," you whispered, running your fingers low on his abs while he looked at some onesies. "I'm horny."

He kissed the top of your head and guided you along. "I know you are. I won't leave you hanging." And he wouldn't. He'd be gone soon, sent away to some undisclosed location for some undisclosed amount of time where he'd have no access to you or the Nugget. He'd give you everything you wanted and needed right now, but this little shopping trip was something for him. He needed this. There was always the fear in the back of his mind that he might not return. 

"These are cute sunglasses," you mused, still running one hand along his body. "Little aviators."

Bradley felt like his insides were going to melt as you held up the tiniest pair of sunglasses he'd ever seen in his life. "Holy shit," he muttered when you handed them to him. "These are fucking adorable, Sweetheart. Good find. Our baby is going to look so damn cool."

"What did I tell you about swearing so much?" you said as you rubbed your face on his shirt. Bradley knew you were a ticking time bomb at the moment. He needed to make his selections and get you out before you started to whine for him.

"I'll fucking behave," he replied, making you laugh. And that was when he saw it. The perfect onesie. His child needed to have it. He made a beeline toward the shelf and snatched it up as you followed behind him.

"That's cute!" you said, running your fingers along the airplane and the clouds that spelled out Aim for the Sky. The clothing sizes went by months, which was very confusing to him. Surely the baby wouldn't be growing that fast? Needing new clothing every few weeks?

"Just to be sure," he muttered, grabbing the onesie in several sizes. "Okay, that's item number one of three."

"Technically that looks like four items to me, Bradley. Why are you getting so many onesies?"

"In case the Nugget grows at super speeds. I'm going to want to take a million photos of this outfit."

When he gave you his saddest eyes, you groaned and said, "Fine. Nugget's first outfit has been acquired. Pick two more items, and we can go home and get in bed."

With a grin, he started to lead you around the store. He wanted to get the baby a toy, but he wasn't sure which would be the best. Jake had been telling him about everything he wanted to buy for Jeremiah, and some of it sounded fun, but once again, he wanted the Nugget to have something unique. One of a kind. Only the best shit for his kid.

"Oh my god!" he exclaimed, thrusting the onesies and aviators into your hands and running to the end of the aisle. "That's it!" He was hitting the enormous box with his palm over and over again. "Look at this! It's perfect!"

"Roo, it's five hundred bucks, and the baby won't even be able to use it for a few years," you warned, but it was too late. He was already sliding the box from the shelf and carrying it to the front of the store. "Bradley!"

"It's one of my three items! Now help guide me. This thing is massive."

With great joy, he paid for the orange Bronco Power Wheels and carried the box out to his full sized blue Bronco and fit it in the back while you held the bag containing the onesies and sunglasses. "I am so afraid to ask what your third item is going to be," you said as he struggled to make the box fit. But he had an idea. He'd had an idea for ages. It was part of the reason he had been trying to clean up the backyard a little bit more and even out the soil next to the shed.

When he closed the tailgate, he kissed your forehead gently. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said calmly as he buckled you in the passenger seat and leaned down to kiss your belly. "The Nugget and I know exactly what to get."

You rolled your eyes and then asked what he was scheming up now. You asked the entire way home what he was going to buy, and he was only able to finally distract you once he had his clothes off in the bedroom. "Don't worry about it, Baby Girl. Worry about the fact that you won't be able to walk straight in half an hour."

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

Bradley never told you what else he was going to buy, but later that night, you had the suspicion that it had already been purchased. You spent the evening with him out in the garage, sitting on his bench press and eating a bag of pretzels while he put the Power Wheels together on a tarp on the floor. 

"Can't leave the baby out," he muttered as he screwed the doors on. "Now we all have our own Bronco."

He looked adorable, his hair messy from how you'd had your fingers tangled in it, and the eager look on his face was something you'd desperately miss when he was gone. "The box says ages three to seven," you reminded him before you bit into a pretzel, but he just grunted in response. "And what if the Nugget doesn't like Broncos?" you asked just to tease him, earning a glare in response.

"The baby will have impeccable taste," he muttered, turning the page in the instruction booklet. "Broncos and hot sauce and airplanes."

You waited a few seconds until he looked very distracted, and then you softly asked, "What's the third thing you bought?"

He hummed as he located the set of screws he would need for the hood. "You'll see soon enough. It's being delivered tomorrow."

Tomorrow was Monday. He was leaving on Wednesday. "It's not something big that will need to be assembled like the Power Wheels, right?" He had the guiltiest expression on his face as he turned to look up at you. "Right?" you repeated. "Bradley!"

You got your answer the following morning when you were squeezing into your new uniform pants which were a size larger than your old ones. You were dreading the thought of having to start wearing a maternity uniform to work and went with new pants to buy yourself some time. You froze with your zipper halfway pulled up and called out to Bradley in the kitchen. "What's that sound?"

"Uh... it's the third thing for the Nugget being delivered," he replied, and you immediately headed for your front door and the repetitive beeping sound coming from outside. "Don't freak out," he said as he came up behind you as you wrenched the front door open. 

Bradley had already seemingly moved both Broncos to the street in anticipation of the forklift that was moving wooden pallets wrapped up in plastic onto the driveway. "Do I even want to know?" you whispered as the forklift backed up to scoop another pallet off of the truck that was parked in the middle of your street. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and let his hands rest on your bloated belly while he nuzzled your ear. "It's a thirty-seven piece jungle gym playset for the backyard."

"A thirty-seven piece...."

"The Nugget and I both really wanted it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose as your dog plopped down next to your feet, and the three of you watched the forklift make several more trips up the driveway. "Don't you dare try to buy anything else right now. Do you understand me?"

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

Nothing says 'Bradley's child' quite like baby's first Bronco. And he's so precious, he's already built the thing. He's been daydreaming about the playset for long enough that it was bound to happen, too. Let's send him on this deployment and get him back home to his wifey and his Nugget. Stay tuned for more! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Brat ୨୧

pairing: Rick Grimes ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ use of daddy, one spank, dom/sun dynamic, multiple orgasms, pure filth tbh, reader acts helpless on purpose, brat tamer vibes

summary: ʚ Rick forgets your anniversary and he makes it up to you ɞ

Words: 2432

You had your arms crossed a pouty look on your face. Rick rolled his eyes slightly, standing behind you. “Darlin’ please I-I never meant to hurt you,” he said, sitting behind you.

One leg on either side of the picnic bench. His rough strong hands land on the sides of your arms. You let out a frustrated whine, moving forward away from his touch.

“Y/n I didn't realise what day it was I promise I didn't go on the run to hurt you. I just didn't know what day it was,” he said slowly pressing his body up against yours.

You were in the cutest of dresses, your hair done up decently nice (considering it was the apocalypse) even made some of that homemade makeup bullshit.

You look like the cutest most beautiful thing Rick has ever laid his eyes on ever. Had it been normal life and he forgot your anniversary, sure he wouldn't mind you being a brat about it.

But this wasn't normal life. Not everyone had access to a calendar anymore, and sure some people kept track but Rick didn't. And he sure as hell was surprised you did. He knew it was coming up.

It was that time of year again, the spring. “Come on y/n don't be such a brat,” he murmured in your ear. You turned away from his face still giving him the silent treatment.

He let out a deep sigh not having the time to fight with you. “Alright listen this is what we're gonna do. I'm gonna go out and pick up your gift and when I come back I expect you to have left that attitude somewhere else. Do you understand me?” he said in a stern voice.

His hands slightly tightened on your soft flesh. It sent a shiver up your spine and heat to your core. “Fine,” you muttered out. Moving away from him, standing up, and walking to your shared room.

Rick licked his lips, “Alright. I'll be back soon.” he muttered, gripping the door handle and leaving the house.

It wasn't until a few hours later that Rick showed back up in the house you both called home. Slicked back hair, a new shirt, some new lingerie, and a bundle of flowers. He strained his back and walked down the hall.

He looked into your room to see you reading a book lying on your stomach. He lifts the hand holding the flowers up and uses his knuckle to knock on the open door.

You turned around greeting him with a much happier-looking face. You set the book on the nightstand and turned around slightly. You slowly bite your lips looking at your new gifts.

“Well hey there pretty girl,” he says setting the flowers and gifts down on the other nightstand. You let out a small chuckle, letting him crawl into the bed basically on top of you.

“How are you? Less bratty now? Yeah?” he mumbled moving a piece of hair out of your face. You nod with a simple pretty smile that could send Rick down to his knees. He cups the right side of your face leaning down to kiss you on your forehead.

He leans back up eyeing your figure in the tight-fitting dress. You feel your cheeks begin to warm under his gaze. His hand slides down to your lips parting them slightly.

He brushes them slightly sending heat waves to your core. “So beautiful…” Rick whispers looking at your face. His hand slides down further to your jaw, turning your head right and left.

“Sit up on the pillows.” your husband murmurs, moving off the bed completely. You obey scooting up to your pillows and sitting, letting your legs fall open slightly.

Rick stands on the edge of the foot of the bed, hands placed on each end of the bed looking down at you. His eyes were dominantly dark, you wanted to squirm under his gaze.

Rick stands back up tall shedding his shirt off. You rake in his form. God, he was beautiful. Scars littered his chest, and a good patch of hair as well as his happy trail led to the thing you wanted in you most.

“You ready? You want this?” he asks looking at you, a deep look of love in his eyes. You knew that if you said yes this would be the last time you would see that look for hours. Complete domination of a man would overtake him.

And you wanted nothing more than that.

“Yes…daddy” you murmur with a smug grin. He cocks his head to the right slightly. He grabs the comforter of the bed shaking your entire body with a swift move. You let out a gasp.

Rick grabs your hips and thighs and drags you down flush to his body. Feeling a small bulge growing in his pants. You try and wiggle out of his touch, squirming left and right.

Ricks's hand comes down on your hands and arms, “Quit moving brat.” he whispers in a deeply threatening tone. You give him a pout of sadness but you're so turned on.

You felt your sex start leaking with arousal. Letting out a whine of protest lets Rick know that you're far from done being bratty. He leans down kissing and teasing your neck.

His rough lips moved up and down your sensitive skin, nibbling on your jaw slightly. The flat of his tongue dragged up. You moan out trying to buck your hips into him.

His left hand slams down on your hips keeping you in place. “Rick!” you whine out trying to tease him more. He pulls away from your neck and shifts his knee in between your legs putting it right on your unclothed heat.

After Rick left for your gifts you thought it would be a good idea to go completely commando. You realize that it's gonna give you a lot more trouble than it might have been worth.

Rick's knee pressing evenly on your clit wasn't exactly what you needed or wanted but it sure as hell wasn't nothing. Your count began drooling all over him as he moved his hand off your hip and above your head stabilizing himself to bring his left hand to your jaw and neck.

His fingers slip around the sides of your neck squeezing it. You let slip another moan this one getting trapped in his mouth as he leans down kissing you roughly.

His dick straining heavily in his pants at the sight and sounds of you. God, you were a beautiful soul. It was like your body was hand-carved for him. He hoped only to bring you an ounce of the pleasure you gave him daily.

“Rick please…” and you whine out, his teeth clashing against his. Maybe being a brat wasn't such a good idea. You couldn't help it. You wanted all of his attention to yourself. A mean and rough man to take care of you.

Ricks's hand leaves your neck and lands on your face in a smack. You whine, pressing down on his knee, feeling a small wave of pleasure.

Your husband sits up, pushing your dress up to your stomach. Revealing your bare cunt leaking on his pants. “Oh what a poor little brat,” he says, fingers slowly moving to your cunt. He gingerly spreads it open revealing just how wet you were.

“This what's been troubling you?” he asks sticking one of his digits into your sopping arousal. “Mhm!” you nod eagerly. “That's what's been making you such a little bratty girl? Just a needy cunt?” he says in such a mocking tone.

“God no wonder you've been all bratty huh? Needed some good loving didn't you?” he whispers.

His rough voice plus his small ministrations were slowly filling your body with warmth and tingles. “M sorry Daddy,” you admit, trying to grind down on his finger. “Baby girl, why didn't you use your big girl voice and tell me huh? You know I'm always willing to help you right?” he says slipping a second finger in, starting to move even faster.

His thumb presses on your clit starting to rub just how you like it. “M said I was sorry Daddy! You forgot about me n I just wanted you!” you whined. “I know baby I know,” he says keeping his pass, rubbing harder on your sensitive button.

You felt the familiar feeling in your tummy pool, a coil waiting to snap. It felt like pleasure was in your bones, deep-seated love planted by your husband. “You feel so good, m gonna cum.” you whimper letting the pleasure slowly start to take over.

“Good girl, come on baby,” Rick says leaning down again and kissing up and down your neck/ jaw. The coil was threatening to snap, as his fingers pumped in and out, curling to your G spot.

“Oh my god.” you breathe out. Your back arches as your cunt clenches on his fingers. Tingling waves of heat tracked through your whole body.

Your visions dimmed and faded out for a few moments when your breath returned to a more normal pace. By the time you noticed, you felt Ricks's tongue slowly licking up your leaking juices.

“Poor thing, well that's all she needed huh?” he teased you, hands gripping your thighs. You moaned as he barely let your sensitive cunt recover.

His warm tongue moved and curled to your G spot as he moved a hand to finish rubbing your clit. You moaned his name like it was a prayer. Begging to keep going. Your second orgasm came quicker than the first one, between the lewd sounds of Rick eating you out like you were his last meal and his death grip on you; you didn't last long.

You grabbed the sheets, as you started to grind down on his face trying to feel every inch of him possible. “M gonna cum again, please,” you begged, again feeling your body teetering on the edge.

He pulls away keeping his moving fingers on your clit. “Do it. Do it for me,” he says, his words vibrating into your greedy cunt. “Mm, fuck.” you whined. You were sure your poor neighbors were going to complain.

Your orgasm washes over you, feeling your legs shake with the sheer force of your husband's desire. He slowly stopped his movements, pulling away.

His face is covered in your liquid, his hair sleek with a shine from sweat. You looked up at him, body on fire as your breathing returned to normal.

“You alright there y/n?” he asks looking at your almost dazed sight. You nodded ‘yes’ watching as he slowly undid his belt. Letting his pants fall seeing his, what must be a painfully hard erection.

He pulls his boxers down, his dick slapping his stomach once it sprang back up. Your eyes flutter a little looking at his being cock. It was so perfect, almost made for you it seemed.

“Sit up, take your dress off the rest of the way,” he says pumping his cock a few times to get it ready for your needy cunt. You giggle as you follow his directions. Sitting up removing the dress.

You toss it on the floor next to you. Eyeing up your husband, licking your lips slightly taking in the sight of his naked and erect body. You let your legs fall open, revealing your most intimate part of yourself to him.

“Get over here” he barks once again grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him. You giggle looking up at him, “Oh you think something is funny huh?” he asks, pumping his needy cock with his hand.

“Mm nooooo..” you giggle out biting your fingernail. “S’ what I thought,” he says, grabbing your hand and putting it on your clit instructing you to rub. You obey as you prepare yourself for his cock.

He brings the tip up to your entrance, moving in slightly. Feeling his tip press into you. You gasp in the slight stinging sensation it brings, taking your hand off your body and gripping the sheets.

“I know honey, I know. Just hold tight for a second ok? Almost all the way in.” he says continuing his plummet into your body. You nod angling your hips so he can slide into the deepest part of you.

He makes it all the way in as you both moan out for each other. “Fuck.” he mutters, once again moving your hand back down to have you rub your clit.

He begins pumping in and out of you, slowly of course at first. Feeling your pleasure return for your third orgasm. “Rick,” you whimper out bringing your unoccupied hand to his hair. He follows suit plunging his hand into your hair, mouth roughly kissing you.

His body was flushed with red, as he pumped inside of you slowly coming to his own end of pleasure. You couldn't take it anymore letting your orgasm cleanse through you like a prayer. Your back arched, cunt squeezing him perfectly.

Rick closed his eyes pulling away from your mouth and letting his head rest on your neck. He felt your rapid breaths cool slowly as he quickly fucked himself to his own release.

Letting out a grunted moan as his hot white load shoots into you. He pulls out of you and lets his body rest on top of yours. You left your head kissing his forehead.

He lifts his own head smiling up at you, “there is my pretty girl huh? Just needed the brat fucked out of you.” he taunted you. But just like you knew his eyes weren't dark with dominance anymore, just love filled them.

He stands up walks into the restroom grabs a towel, cleans himself up then gingerly cleans your exhausted sex.

He holds his hand out helping you walk to the restroom, where you clean yourself off completely and use the restroom. When you open the door you're greeted with a halfway-dressed Rick.

With a pair of comfy pants on but no shirt. He hands you an oversized tee shirt with a pair of comfy panties. You smiled pulling them on, resting in the comfortable silence with him. His hands wrap around your waist holding you close to him.

His mouth is attached to yours slowly letting his love for you spill out. Both of you collapse in the bed under the covers to cuddle, his warm rough hands rubbing your body as he encourages you to drink some water.

“Happy anniversary baby.”

[vbecker10]

Coffee Coffee Coffee

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Your over protective boyfriend, Loki, finds out you haven't eaten anything today and he's not happy about it but in your defense, you did have coffee.

A/N: I didn't even have coffee today so it's weird that this is in my brain lol... enjoy 💚

A series of knocks pulls your attention from the email you are typing and you check the clock in the corner of the screen. There's only one person who could be looking for you this late, the rest of your team went home a little over an hour ago.

You rub your eyes and get up from your desk, "Come in, Loki."

The door opens and the God of Mischief enters, "Hello darling." He meets you in the middle of your office and pulls you into a tight hug.

You reach up and kiss his lips lightly, pulling away much too soon for Loki's liking. He smirks, "Well now that won't do."

"No?" you ask with a smile.

He shakes his head no. You reach up again and as he leans to me you, you change direction slightly so you kiss his cheek. A giggle escapes you as Loki's hands move down to your hips and he pulls you flush against his body. His left hand raises to your cheek and he tilts your head up gently, then he presses his lips firmly to yours. His hand grips your hip tighter and you give into his kiss.

"I'm still working," you tell him breathlessly when your lips finally leave his.

"You work too hard," he tells you as he lets go of you.

He walks towards one of the empty chairs facing you desk and takes a seat. You move past him to sit behind you desk but he gently catches your wrist. Pulling lightly, he brings you towards him and lifts you onto his lap so you are facing him.

"I missed you today," he tells you in a low voice, his hands settle on your lower back.

"I missed you too, I'm sorry I had to cancel our lunch. Today has been awful," you wave towards your desk which is stacked high with files.

"Will you be much longer?" he asks, tucking a piece of hair behind you ear.

You shrug, "Hopefully only another hour. I just need to finish-". Your stomach rumbles, cutting into your sentence and you cringe when you can see in his eyes that he heard it.

"Did you eat anything today?" he asks in response to the sound.

"I had coffee," you answer quickly and immediately know that was the wrong answer.

His fingers drum rhythmically on your hip and he asks, "Did you at least drink any water?"

"Yea a little," you nod but he raises his eyebrow skeptically. "I mean, there's water in coffee."

He groans, his hand raising to cover his eyes. You hold back a giggle, knowing it won't help your situation. "Why are you like this?" he asks in a half joking tone.

You smile wide and shrug, "I like coffee."

"I can see that darling," he says, shaking his head lightly to hide a smile. "Dare I ask how many cups you've had today?"

You pretend to think for a moment then begin to count on your fingers, "One, two, three, four, five-"

"Y/N," he stops you.

"Only two," you answer.

"Are you sure?" he asks in a tone that means he clearly does not believe you.

You look away from his gaze but he touches your chin and guides your eyes back to his. "Four... but they were hours apart," you tell him honestly.

He shakes his head, "Love, you can't survive on coffee alone."

"That's literally how I made it through college," you inform him and cross your arms against your chest.

Without another word, he lifts you off his lap and sets you down so he can get up. "What-" you start to ask but he takes your hand and begins to move towards the door. "Where are we going? I still have work to do," you tell him.

"We're going to get dinner," he says as he opens the door.

You suddenly realize how hungry you are and follow him out into the hallway. "Ooh, can we get dessert too?" you ask with a smile.

He nods, "Of course, darling."

"And coffee?" you ask half joking.

"I think you've had enough coffee for the week," he answers as he pushes the button for the elevator.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods

[strangersteddierthings]

"I think we should break up," is what Eddie blurts the moment Steve opens the front door to reveal him.

Steve's first reaction is anger -how dare he?- but he doesn't do anything with that anger. Instead, he takes a deep breath through his nose, crosses his arms, and looks Eddie over.

He's breathing heavily yet his van is parked along the curb. He didn't run here. His hair, while never tame, looks rougher. He is fidgeting but in a nervous way, not his usual too much energy way. His eyes are wide and scared. It's the last bit there that drains Steve's anger.

Something's happened.

He drops his arms and says, "well, you're not dumping me on my porch. Get in here."

This doesn't seem like the response Eddie was expecting. Even though he has been looking at Steve this whole time he still manages to do a double take at him. Steve just shoves the door open a bit wider when he turns and heads back to the kitchen, where the dishes are not washing themselves because he doesn't have a dishwasher.

"I-I'm serious, Steve," Eddie is stammering behind him, which is good. Means he did follow. Steve hears the door shut and the shuffling sound of what he assumes is Eddie trying to pull off his combat boots without untying them, like the animal he is.

"Don't shout at me in my own home! Get in this kitchen," Steve shouts, then smiles and relishes in the offended huff Eddie lets out because Steve is the one shouting. Steve picks up the dish towel he'd deposited on the counter and throws it back over his shoulder, then get back to the dishes. There's just a couple bowls and a pot left, might as well get them done.

The sink is perpendicular to the doorway, so he watches Eddie slink into the small galley kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway to frown at Steve. "I'm breaking up with you and you're just, what, gonna wash dishes?"

"You're not breaking up with me, but yes. Look, one bowl down already. Just two more dishes."

"I- what. Yes, I am!"

"Edifer, you are 24 years old. That's much too old to just show up, yell 'we're over' at someone and run away. We're going to talk about this," he's not sure if it's the nickname, or the scolding parent voice he's put on, but it gets a huff of laughter from Eddie, and he counts it as a win.

"Alright, dad."

Steve grins, "I'll be dad if you be Daddy."

There's some sputtering from Eddie, and Steve gets the final dish done before Eddie says, "you can't just say that when I'm breaking up with you! That's- that's manipulative!"

He shrugs in response. "Seems fair. You're messing with my feelings; I'm messing with your feelings."

Those words freeze Eddie, and Steve can see him processing the words. Did Eddie really not consider that Steve had feelings involved? "I- that's... um."

He takes his time to unplug the sink, rinsing away the left-over bubbles before drying his hands and turning around. Eddie looks less wild and scared, now. More conflicted and uncertain. Which could be a good or bad thing. "Did you think you would just come over, break up with me, and I'd be, like, completely fine with it?"

"No," Eddie is quick to say, "Not completely fine but like, fine enough. It's- we've only been together for a month."

Steve frowns at that. He's not going to take offense to the 'only' added in there, because he's grown a lot over the last four years. He's mature now. "Sure, but beyond that, we've been friends since the world almost ended. I don't understand. I thought we were on the same page, here."

Eddie's fidgety again, in the bad way, pacing up and down the length of the kitchen. "What if this was a mistake?"

"What if it wasn't?"

That stops Eddie in his tracks, whipping around to look at Steve. "What if this goes bad? What if you meet someone else and they can give you everything I can't? What if-"

"Whoa, Eddie!" Steve shoves off the sink and gets to Eddie in two steps. His hands come up, hovering. He wants to touch, comfort, but... well, if he allowed to? "I- where's all this coming from?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!"

"What?"

"Dustin and Suzie broke up!! They were the forever couple! Perfect for each other! If they couldn't make it work, how am I supposed to be able to?"

Ah. The root of it. Eddie, afraid he's not good enough. Fuck it. Eddie can shove him off if he doesn't want Steve to touch him. He slides an arm around Eddie's waist, his other hand going up to caress his cheek before cupping it, a move he knows makes Eddie melt like cotton candy on the tongue. "Eddie, baby, we make it work by working on it. Not just giving up."

Eddie does melt into Steve, his own arms wrapping around Steve (probably against Eddie's will). "I- I don't know what I'm doing. I'm gonna fuck this up and you'll hate me, and everything will be ruined."

"Well, that's melodramatic."

Eddie glares at him even as he nuzzles into Steve's palm. "Rude."

"Baby, so long as you just talk to me, we'll be okay. Don't just show up and declare you're gonna break up with me. I think there's some steps we can take before it gets to that."

He watches Eddie swallow thickly before he nods his head. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"So, we okay? You aren't gonna break my heart?"

Eddie whimpers at that, throwing himself forward to shove his face into Steve's neck. Steve settles his hand on the back of Eddie's head, idly scratching it while his other arm tightens its hold. When Eddie speaks, it's muffled and directly into his skin. "No. No breaking hearts."

"Hmm, good," Steve says, content to hold his boyfriend in his kitchen for however long Eddie wants to be held.

He'll call and check in on Dustin a bit later, too.