#I can hear snoring beneath me at night

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! I had a request I’d like to give you. I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where reader has never slept beside anybody before bc intimacy isn’t something she’s used to therefore she’s not used to being that close to anybody. everytime she shifts she’s afraid to wake up the boys, or she just doesn’t know what to do.

I know you have “first night with marauders” so if this is too similar I totally get it. 🖤

Hello sweetheart, thank you for your request!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 990 words

You’re terrible at this. 

Each of the boys is sound asleep. Sirius has his leg hooked over yours and one of his arms tossed over James’ chest, Remus’ hand has to be halfway numb underneath your pillow, and James is snoring softly on the far side of the bed from you. They’re all so obviously comfortable, practiced in resting like this, whereas you started to get stiff a half hour ago and you’ve been unable to make yourself relax since. 

Every movement takes a year, you’re trying so hard not to wake them. You feel like the girl in a movie who’s trying to sneak out of the bed of a one-night stand, all taut muscles and bated breath, except you only want to roll over. Slow, microscopic movements have to be the key. 

Your back crackles softly when you shift your weight onto your other hip, and a sigh escapes you before you can stop it. 

A low, croaky hum comes from just in front of your face. Your brain is a tempest of expletives. 

“Hey.” You can nearly feel the gravel of Remus’ voice buzzing against your lips. “You’re up.” 

Muddled with sleep, you can’t tell if his tone is reprimanding or simply observational. “Sorry,” you whisper regardless. 

“Wha’ for?” Movement under the pillow beneath your head, and then a long-fingered hand is nestling beneath your cheek. His scars and calluses slide familiarly over your skin. “Can’t sleep?”

Nope, and now it’s two of you. Guilt grows vines around your ribcage. Remus sounds more awake by the second. 

“I’ll be okay.” You press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, hoping to mollify him. “Go back to sleep.” 

Your boyfriend makes a half-aware disgruntled sound. “No, not without you.” 

As exhausted as you are, you have to bite down on a smile. When he’s uninhibited like this, Remus really is quite the flirt, all his dorky, sweet thoughts coming out before he can remember to stop them. He’s nearly as bad as James. 

You think he must see a hint of your smile in the dark, because Remus’ own lips tilt upwards. He leans closer to kiss the cool skin of your cheek, the only cold part of you thanks to a heavy duvet and the body heat of three lovely boyfriends. A kiss for a kiss. 

He leaves his lips there as he murmurs, “What’s wrong, dove?” 

Well, funny he should ask. What’s wrong now is the slight tickle of his stubble against your cheek, the hoarse quality to his voice in your ear. His breath warms your cold skin, and he slides a hand across the space between you to rest on your hip, layered in between the sheets and your pajama bottoms. 

But you know that’s not what he’s asking. 

“I can’t get very comfortable,” you confess, speaking so softly he wouldn’t be able to make it out if his ear weren’t two inches from your lips, “and I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” 

Remus hums, as though this is a prognosis he’d already reached and was merely waiting for you to confirm. You can hear Sirius’ voice as clearly as if he were awake: know it all. 

“They can sleep through anything,” he says. “One time the fire alarm went off, and James didn’t even stir. Don’t worry about them.” You must be emanating guilt, because he strokes his thumb over your hip pacifyingly. “And I don’t mind being woken up. I’m in and out of sleep all night anyway, it’s not hard for me to get back. You’re not used to sleeping with so many people, yeah?” 

Your face warms at his phrasing, though of course you know what he means. “Or with anyone,” you murmur. 

“Mm. I think I know what you need.” 

You don’t realize Remus’ plan until he’s already sat up. He reaches over you, rubbing James’ shoulder gently while you protest vehemently through whispers. 

James wakes with a yawn, taking Remus’ hand automatically and bringing it close to his face. “Wha’s’it?”

“Take her,” Remus requests drowsily. With his other hand, he nudges you forward. 

James starts to blink his eyes open, and you see no way out. You start climbing over Sirius as delicately as you can. “Sorry,” you whisper, to him, to them, to the room in general. 

Remus helps you out by tugging Sirius into your place. The other boy whines but settles quickly, rolling over to sling his leg over Remus’ instead. 

James welcomes you as heartily as his sleep-addled state will allow, adjusting the covers over you and smudging a few toothpaste-scented kisses onto your face. 

“Y’can’t sleep?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Sorry.” 

He makes a soft dismissive sound. “C’mere, angel.” 

You refrain from telling him that you’re already here as his arms find their way around you, soft and firm in all the right places and deliciously warm. He starts to make slow, sweeping circles onto your back with his hand. 

“Jamie,” you murmur, grateful but embarrassed, “don’t stay up for me. Go to sleep.” 

“M’basically there,” he replies. “You first, yeah?” 

You can hear Remus’ breathing evening out behind you, syncing with Sirius’, and you’re suddenly sure that this is part of a routine he and the boys shared before you ever met them. That’s how he knew to hand you off to James, and how James knew exactly what to do. Something about that comforts you. And far be it for you to mess with tradition. 

You shuffle closer to James under the covers. He obliges you happily, adjusting his grip so he’s holding you more securely, with your leg resting against his and your forehead an inch from his nose. The shushing of his heavy palm on the material of your pajama top is the only sound in the world. 

You hear his breathing starting to deepen again, but James is right; you beat him there. 

[vampcubus]

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: i've been fussing over these for weeks just take 'em ;-;

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : inosuke, tanjiro, zenitsu, kyojuro, and tengen + wives.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, references to marriage and children.

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

— Inosuke is not used to sleeping with other people, and you can tell he’s never been cuddled either. He tenses up and wriggles away the first time you attempt to spoon him in your sleep.

“You really don’t want to cuddle, Inosuke?” you sighed dejectedly.

“Why would I?!” 

You make a sad face and shuffle back to your own bedroll. With Inosuke’s usual total disregard for personal space, you’d thought he wouldn’t mind if you swooped in for a cuddle. He’s very much like a cat in that regard, he only wanted to be touched on his terms.

There’s a moment of silence before you hear grumbling and shuffling, and the next thing you know he’s pressed to your side, the fur of his mask tickling your chin as he tucks his “face” into the crook of your neck.

— Refuses to sleep any other way after that.

— He’ll act betrayed when you take naps without him when he’s readily available. “You took a nap without me?!” his heart is shattered, how could you?

— God forbid one or both of you are injured and get put in separate rooms because as soon as he wakes, he’s sneaking out to crawl into your bed with you. No amount of scolding from you or Shinobu is gonna keep him away for long.

— Tends to spoon you subconsciously, either slipping a leg between yours or wrapping it around you n holding onto you like a backpack. 

— He moves around a lot in his sleep, so prepare to wake up with a foot in your face or from getting kicked. Especially if he’s having particularly engaging dreams, you may or may not be mistaken for some all-powerful beast for Inosuke to conquer in dreamland.

— Inosuke is so god damn hyper in the morning and it can be a lot, especially since he wants you to be up too so you can start a new day together. It’s hard to keep up with his enthusiasm, and sometimes you just turn over and cover your ears with a pillow to drown him out. Most times that'll get your blankets yoinked, and you’ll be beaten to death (not really) with that same pillow.

“HEY DON’T IGNORE ME! WAKE UP!”

— Though sometimes he can be soft. You’ll wake up to a strange weight on your tummy and find him sitting there, staring at you like a cat waiting for its owner to wake up. And sometimes he’ll just lay back down, covering you with his body and nuzzling his face into your neck. And if you lift a heavy hand to play idly with his hair, he might just fall back asleep again.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

— A cuddle bug that wants nothing more than to snuggle up on the futon with you after a long night of demon slaying.

— He’s the type to scoot closer if you move away in your sleep since he will wake up if he doesn’t feel you there anymore.

— Please spoon him. You will not regret it for a moment. He runs warm and is the perfect size for cuddling! Tan sighs so happily when you pull him against you, tucking his head right beneath your chin. Your comforting scent and firm embrace lull him right to sleep.

— Alternatively, he wakes up if he smells your distress, so you’ll never be alone if you have a nightmare. You don’t have to tell him what it was about, but he does insist on staying up with you to comfort you. Even when he’s struggling to keep his eyes open, he’ll pet your head and just talk to you until you’ve calmed down enough to doze off again.

— His duties as the Sun Hashira often keep him away for long periods, and he definitely misses your presence at his side when he stops to rest. It’s simply not the same without the weight of your arm strewn over his waist or the soft sounds of your breathing. He’ll even miss your snoring. That’s why he's always eager to return, all of his worries disintegrating as you gather him in your arms and murmur sweet things to him until he nods off.

— In the summer months, he’ll understand if you don’t want to cuddle, but he’ll want to at least hold your hand. 

— Settling down for the night together is a cherished ritual and he wants to be a part of it. Whether it’s taking pins or accessories out of your hair, or putting it into a protective style for sleeping, he wants to help out. He’s also damn good at giving massages and head rubs, so never be afraid to ask if you need a little more help winding down. That man lives to dote on you.

— Tanjiro rarely has the heart to wake you up early, but he makes you breakfast and leaves notes around your home if he’s gotta run somewhere. He melts into a puddle if he finds you making breakfast early in the morning, domesticity really does it for him.

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

— You’ve married a cryptid. I'm so sorry.

— Zenitsu sleepwalks as I’m sure you can imagine. You’ll wake up to him out of bed, standing ominously in the middle of the room.

“Zenitsu honey, come back to bed,” you’d murmur tiredly after the initial shock wears off. Even asleep he bends to your will, crawling back onto the futon to sidle up against you once more. 

— Other times you’ll hear noises coming from the kitchen and find him making a whole meal in his goddamn sleep. Which is quite adorable, but also dangerous like pls you’re going to hurt yourself.

— The times he’s not wandering about, he’s snuggled up to you as close as he can get, face buried in your chest or neck, arms and legs wrapped around you.

— He snores if he’s on his back but it’s soft enough to sleep through.

— Giggles in his sleep if he’s having a good dream (he always says all the best ones are of you ❤︎)

— Zenitsu tends to sleep sprawled out on top of you. Oftentimes he returns from a long day of demon slaying, crawls right on top of you, and crashes for several hours. 

— He’s your weighted blanket <333

— Zenitsu never wants either of you to leave the bed in the mornings. He’ll cling, whine, and plead for “five more minutes.” (but it’s always much longer than that) 

— Sometimes you can coax him to release the death grip around your waist with promises of his favorite breakfast or endless kisses, other times you’ll just have to cope with being late to places.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

— Deep sleeper!! with you anyways. As soon as he’s out, very little will wake him.

— Kyo’s definitely a cuddler! And the best suited for it too since he radiates heat like a furnace. It’s stifling during the summer months, but he truly can’t bear to be parted from you. Sleeping light or nude would be best, not like you’ll have to worry about getting cold when your husband is a literal space heater. 

— He’s an absolute dream during the colder months, and you know he takes full advantage of the weather as an excuse to snuggle every second of the day.

— Mumbles in his sleep every now and then. It’s usually gibberish or a breathy chuckle, but sometimes you can discern whispers of “tasty” and bits and pieces of your name.

— Kyojuro becomes reliant on your presence to sleep over time. It happened so slowly he didn’t realize his dependency until he found himself lying wide awake and restless out in the field. 

— He swore he could fall asleep anywhere before he met you but now… now he needs the sound of your soft snores next to his ear. He needs the feeling of your warm body against his. How was he supposed to sleep without someone there to hog the blanket? or crawl on top of him in the middle of the night when close just wasn’t close enough?

— Worst of all, you aren’t there to pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings to him as he wakes up — it’s those moments he wouldn’t trade for the world. You always treat him with such care, allowing yourself to be held hostage in bed until he also awoke, even when his profession meant his rest stretched on into the afternoon hours.

“The Flame Hashira lives!” you’d sing playfully as he blinks the film of sleep from his eyes, staring up at you with nothing but love and adoration. You’d lean down to kiss his lonely forehead, but not before purring your eagerly awaited utterance of “Good morning, baby.”

His eyes flutter closed as your lips brush over his forehead, grinning so widely his cheeks dimple.

“G’morning, darling flame,” he’d rasp in that rumbly morning voice that makes your cheeks feel warm. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

— Kyojuro tends to nod off while he’s got his head resting on your lap during dates, especially if you start playing with his hair. He wakes up later to find you’ve also drifted off while sitting up, slumped forward just slightly. Your hair frames your face, the late afternoon sun casting an ethereal glow onto you.

— Napping together is quite a regular occurrence, especially when your duties tend to keep you up during the evening hours. If you’re a slayer too, your sleep schedules match up rather nicely, meaning you’ll be frequently found in a tangle of limbs somewhere.

— If you have children, you’ll often find them knocked out cold with their father. (he’s the type to fall asleep with a baby on his chest) it’s the kind of scene that puts tears in your eyes and makes you sink to your knees. It’s all too tempting to join the cuddle pile with your husband and children.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈 + 𝐖𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒

— Tengen snores, but not as loud as Suma. The two of them are making harmonies while Makio and Hinatsuru hardly make any noise at all. Though the three of you can all agree you wouldn’t be able to sleep without the sound of your lovers’ snoring after a while.

— They all say goodnight to one another which is very adorable.

“Goodnight Suma.” “Goodnight Hina.” “Goodnight Makio.” “Goodnight Lord Tengen!!” “Goodnight Y/nnnnn~”

It’s back and forth until everyone is accounted for 

— You five sleep in a tangle of limbs, but it’s the coziest cuddle pile you’ll ever sleep in. Tengen’s been married long enough not to be disturbed by shuffling or moving around since sleeping with various other people requires occasional readjusting no matter how you romanticize it.

— Suma usually demands a spot at your side so she can wrap herself around you like a koala. She does drool, but she usually looks so damned cute doing it that you don’t have the heart to move her away from your shoulder. She’s always whispering to you as everyone settles down for bed, and Makio often scolds her for giggling and keeping the others awake. 

— Prepare for those two to bicker over you, oftentimes literally. They’ll hiss and argue whilst they have their arms full of you.

— Hinatsuru sings you lullabies when you just can’t seem to sleep and plays with your hair. Her fingers scratch lovingly over your scalp, smiling as your eyelids droop further under her gentle affections and ethereal voice. You always wake up with a mouthful of her hair, but it’s so worth it.

— Makio gives excellent head rubs when you have a headache, and although she may pretend that you’re a nuisance, you can tell she enjoys taking care of her partners. She’s a big spoon and likes to hold your hand while she sleeps, blushing furiously when you raise her knuckles to your lips.

— Tengen rarely manages to snag you from his wives’ clutches for a spot at your side, but when he does he wraps his entire body around you and nearly smothers you with his heat. He cutely holds things while he sleeps so expect to wake up in a headlock. And if you’re in his clutches when he goes to roll over, you’re getting rolled over as well. It’s a bit disorienting, but he soothes you with an apologetic kiss on your temple if he wakes you.

— Tengen thinks it’s endearing that you try to hold him just like he holds everyone else, even with him being so big. You don’t seem to mind his size, wrapping yourself around him like a backpack and tucking his head under your chin.

— Mornings consist of detangling and lots and lots of kisses!

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {9}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You finally find out just how perfect your boyfriends are as birthing partners. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, all the birthing glory one can expect (it’s not a pretty thing irl) WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go One

You woke up to too much warmth but the thrill that shot through you washed away all lingering sense of sleep. Charles and Lando were curled around you having arrived home sometime during the night, replacing the giant Pokemon teddy that was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor beside Lando. 

“Lan,” you whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. A deep groan exhaled with a snore before he slowly blinked his eyes open and found you grinning down at him. “There’s my Winner.”

His smile was drowsy as he rolled onto his back and pulled you into his arms so your head could rest on his chest. His steady heartbeat thumped against your ear and you didn’t realise how quiet the nights had been without hearing that sound beneath your head. 

“Did it for you, babe.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm, I had to do something big to make sure you didn’t forget me while we were gone.”

“Showoff.” You giggled and draped a leg over his, cozying up as much as you comfortably could. “I missed you.”

“Missed you. Glad to see you are in one piece too. I knew my little girl would wait patiently for us to get home.” Lando carefully unwrapped himself from you and shuffled down the bed, brushing up the oversized Quadrant shirt you had stolen from his new merch line. “You can come out anytime now, sweetheart. The sooner the better, if you are ready. Please be ready.”

Lando waited a moment to see if he would get a kick in response but there was nothing and he sighed as he flopped back onto the pillow. “Silent treatment already.”

“She’s probably still sleeping,” you said as you kissed his disappointed frown. “You should go back to sleep too, baby.”

You carefully climbed over him but he caught your hips and trapped you straddling him. You couldn’t see clear enough in the dim light but you were sure his eyes were darkening as he hummed happily. “Can’t sleep with you teasing me like that.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I was trying to get up to go pee.” You wiggled enough for him to bite his lip before swinging your leg off and dashing to the bathroom while he groaned at the loss of your body. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” you heard him whine as you closed the door. You would not miss the rapid fire bathroom breaks that came with the last trimester, that was for certain. 

The relief of emptying your bladder was short lived as you wiped and the loud sound of disgust you made had a thump sounding on the bedroom floor before quick feet sprinted into the bathroom, busting the door wide open. Lando squinted against the bright light before finding you still sat on the toilet with the tissue paper still in your hand. 

“What’s wrong? Is that blood? Shit, Charles!”

“Stop!” you hissed before he woke your mother up from her room down the hall. “It’s not…blood…at least I don’t think so…”

Charles skidded into the bathroom looking absolutely dishevelled as he tried to take in what he was seeing. “Amour, what’s wrong?”

“I think I’ve lost my mucus plug.”

“Mucus plug…” he murmured, rubbing his tired eyes as he mentally scanned the pregnancy books he had read with Lando. 

“Yes!” Lando shouted, his hand turning to an enthusiastic fist. “That means you might be going into labour soon.”

Charles’ eyes widened with excitement and they embraced each other with a laugh, proudly chatting about how their daughter was a good girl waiting for them to come home. 

“Excuse me,” you interrupted, clearing your throat. “Can I have some privacy?”

They looked a little sheepish and backed out of the bathroom, closing the door so you could finish your routine. It was only when you were washing your hands, facing yourself in the mirror that you saw the excitement in your own eyes. Praying the old wives tale was right, you dried your hands and stepped back into the bedroom. 

The bedside lamps glowed warmly and a cosy space was created for you on a mountain of pillows between the two men who nearly vibrated with anticipation. “Please don’t get your hopes up, it may still take days,” you said as you crawled up the bed.

“I know,” Lando replied while he fretted about getting the pillows in the right place to support your back and belly, as well as one between your knees. “You should try get as much sleep as possible while you can.”

Charles smiled at the doting father-to-be, falling even more in love with him. Lando had always been portrayed as the carefree one and the most immature driver on the grid, but this was the side the tv show never aired. Lando was a caretaker and a homemaker at heart, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for those he loved. 

When Lando looked up after tucking the blankets in around you he found Charles staring at him and lifted a brow in question. Charles just smiled and shook his head. “I am the luckiest man.” 

A smirk kicked up on Lando’s lips as he pointedly looked over you and him. “Debatable.”

“We are the luckiest men,” Charles compromised with a laugh before brushing his knuckles softly over your relaxed face. 

“Yes, we are.”

“Charles, can you come help me?” 

The shower was steaming up after spending the last 15 minutes unsuccessfully shaving. The cloud of steam cleared out when he opened the glass door but as soon he saw the position you had got yourself into he barked out a laugh that drew Lando into the bathroom too. 

“Har-har, laugh it up,” you drawled. “I’m not having my baby’s first introduction to the world through a forest, now can one of you please help me?”

“Mon amour, I am sure women were giving birth before these were invented,” he said as he accepted the bright pink razor with an uncertain look on his face. “You don’t have to…uh…landscape.”

“Lando, will you please get rid of this bush before I call in the professionals?”

He was still eyeing up the length of your leg you had managed to kick up onto the lowest recessed shelf that had a few half empty bottles of shampoos knocked over. Even with the position you hadn’t been able to reach around your belly to get to the place you wanted to. “Who are the professionals?” he asked curiously as he took the razor off Charles and got down on his knees. “Kika?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll never understand female friendships,” Charles chuckled, leaning back against the tiled wall to critique Lando. Your main focus was on balancing and keeping as still as possible because you did not want to get cut in such a delicate area - though it couldn’t be worse than what you had read about episiotomies during delivery. “Shave with the hair, same direction.”

“Sorry, not all of us have to shave daily,” Lando muttered sarcastically before holding the razor out. “Why don’t you do it then?”

Charles rolled his eyes but took it and knelt beside Lando. “Can you…?” You couldn’t see what he gestured to Lando but you got a fair idea when you felt Lando’s hands working with Charles to keep the skin taut, and mortifyingly, when he parted your folds to get the stray hairs that grew there. 

“I never want to talk about this,” you said as they both rose up and shared a laugh. 

“You might want to start trying to kick start labour then,” Lando teased. “You have about five days before it’s time for another trim.”

“If you have any ideas, I am all ears.”

As it turned out, his idea to kick starting labour was actually what had got you pregnant in the first place. Though you felt breathless and bloated, sex was a good way of distracting yourself of what was going to come because whether you were ready or not, a baby could not stay in utero forever. 

“Are you sure?” Charles asked when Lando suggested turning the lights down low and locking the bedroom door. They were both more than eager to reacquaint themselves with your body after being away but Charles was certain Lando had just made it up as an excuse to get laid. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I know I’m horny but it’s also true.”

You had let them towel dry you after washing away the shaving cream and let them bicker about the merits of the idea while you climbed onto the bed. You had been planning on getting up for the day after your shower but now that you were again in the soft sheets you realised how much more comfortable it was on your back. 

“...nipple stimulation, see, says it right here.”

You did a small ab crunch to peek over your stomach and saw Lando and Charles comparing their phones, but the small pressure the movement put on your belly caused a strange sensation between your legs. Warm liquid leaked over your thighs and onto the sheets and you thought you couldn’t get anymore embarrassed as you scrunched the sheets tight around your body. 

“Can I have a moment alone?” you asked quietly, their faces freezing at the question that interrupted their discussion on best positions to start with.

“Pourquoi? You know it won’t hurt the baby, you don’t have to worry, amour.”

“It’s not that,” you muttered, self-consciously hiding deeper in the covers.

“Don’t be shy, baby, you are still the most beautiful woman.”

You swallowed twice with your dry throat and shook your head as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Please?”

“Non, what’s wrong?” They both stepped closer and froze when you cried even more, confusion, hurt, worry all flitting across their faces.

“I wet myself,” you whispered as you hid your face, “and I can’t move.”

Their phones were abandoned, all thoughts of lust erased for good reason as you waited for disgust to replace it. “You run the shower and I’ll change the sheets,” Charles said, taking charge. “Come on, amour, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I can’t move,” you said with a vehement shake of your head. “It keeps leaking out.”

“Uh, baby,” Lando said as he reached for the sheets clutched in your hands. “That sounds like your waters have broken.”

The plans changed quickly when you finally loosened your grip enough to let Lando pull them away. The damp spot was much smaller than your mind had made you believe but when they helped you to stand up a full torrent of it gushed out. 

“Yup, time to call the midwife,” Lando said aloud as he confirmed you wouldn’t have to die of embarrassment. 

“On it,” Charles answered as he made the call while getting dressed. Lando still followed his first order and helped you back to the shower while Charles spoke in French, too quick for you to understand. 

By the time you had been washed for the second time in under an hour Charles had gathered the hospital bag and laid out some clothes for you and Lando. The bedsheets had also been stripped and dumped in the corner of the room but you still spotted the wet patch on the carpet beside the bed. 

“I’ll have someone clean it up before we get home,” Charles assured you with a kiss to your temple. “We should go tell your mother that it’s time.”

She reacted as expected, a squeal of happiness, a strong hug, a touch of worry, before more excited laughs. Parking at the hospital was always a nightmare so the plan was for her to drop you off outside the maternity ward and go to Pascale’s to wait for updates with her. 

Phones rang and messages beeped to the point you told everyone to put their phones on silent. As much as you were happy to hear the best wishes and updated on Lando’s family travelling from England, the sounds were messing with your concentration. 

It didn't feel like long but by the time you were dressed, the car was packed, you had chosen your snacks and your immediate family were contacted, almost two hours had passed. In those two hours the tight feeling in your back was getting more painful and no matter what position you were in, sitting or standing, there was no easing the aching pressure on your belly.

“Baby, come see this,” Lando called out, pointing to Max’s apartment. You shuffled your way to him with Charles offering his arm to steady your steps and found a large banner spread across your brother’s balcony. 

MODE: PUSH!

Despite the pain, you laughed as you saw him waving from the other tower apartment. You waved back before letting Charles guide you back inside. You took one last look around the apartment as you headed to the front door, knowing the next time you stepped foot inside it would no longer be just the three of you. The next time you returned, everything would change.

It seemed too easy. The hours passed by with the numbing assistance of gas and air, and the shadows crossed the room as morning turned to afternoon. The birthing pool became your favourite space to relax until you were a wrinkled prune. Floating in the tepid water took the weight of your belly off your spine and Charles had a cloth that he dipped in and used to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Open up, baby,” Lando said softly as he took a seat at the edge of the oversized bath and held a fresh ice chip up to your lips.

Doctor Turner had arrived not long after the hospital midwives had settled you into the room and announced you were 5cm dilated. You thought that meant you were halfway but time seemed to slow in response. The doctor that had been your regular OB GYN since moving to Monaco was happy to take a backseat and let Lando and Charles take care of you. She actually seemed quite impressed with them, not as much as you were.

“Is it okay if we dim the lights?” Lando asked. He had noticed your eyes squinting against the harsh fluorescents overhead and Doctor Turner reached for the switch that was behind her makeshift desk she had taken up by the door. Her hand jotted down notes, twisting her wrist to check the time on her watch before writing more.

“That’s better,” you sighed as you opened your eyes and looked up at your boyfriends. “It’s a shame there’s no jets in this jacuzzi.”

Charles chuckled and dragged the wet cloth over your shoulders and collar. “You make this sound like a spa date, ma chérie.”

“You didn’t happen to bring a face mask, did you?” you teased.

“Sorry, wasn’t on the checklist,” Lando replied with a snort. “Do you want music on again?”

“I never would have pegged you to be a mother hen,” you murmured as you shook your head and smiled. “I’m okay right now.”

Another hour passed and that calm state soon came to an end as the contractions grew stronger, strong enough to take your breath away, and Charles had to remind you to inhale and exhale slowly. The plastic pipe full of gas started to dent beneath your gritted teeth as you bit down with each contraction and groaned deeply. The sound had Doctor Turner rising from her chair to check how far along you were.

Your self consciousness had recessed to the back of your mind as you focused solely on what you body was doing. It was almost the same tunnel vision you had when you were racing and the rest of the world faded away from the track in front of you. You didn’t even blink when her gloved hand dipped into the water and disappeared between your legs.

“Would you like to move to the bed? You’ll be ready to push soon.”

You shook your head as another wave of pressure clamped down on your abdominal muscles, contorting them until it felt like they were going to snap. Just as quickly as it came on the contraction ended and the pain vanished as you slumped back against the pool edge. Water splashed over the lip but Charles and Lando didn’t even notice as they flexed their hands you had clenched tight.

“Can I stay in here?”

“Of course,” she said with a reassuring smile as she took her gloves off. “We are going to do whatever is most comfortable for you.”

She went back to add the latest note to her records but rather than sitting down she returned back to the edge of the bath, a fresh pair of gloves on her hands and a towel on her lap.

“When you said soon…?” you trailed off as another painful contraction began and it felt like your body was going to split in two.

“Do you feel the urge to push?” she asked as she leaned over the edge to look.

You couldn’t answer her as your feet found purchase on the bath walls and braced, your body bearing down on its own accord. An arm curled under each of yours, holding you up as you pushed with more effort than any of the workouts Kristian had ever put you through.

“Lovely head of dark hair,” she said with a grin as the contraction ended and both of your boyfriends couldn’t resist taking a peek.

For all his bravado at preparing himself, Lando blanched a bit and they both shot back up.

“When the next contraction starts, I want you to give me a really big push, okay?”

You were exhausted, and you were sweating. God, you hated how it clung to your skin and warmed with your body heat. You just wanted to sleep.

“You’re doing great, Spitfire. It’s nearly over. Just a little more, baby.”

Charles washed your face and neck with cool water, and you realised you had spoken aloud.

There was no warning or build up as your muscles contracted and you folded over yourself, crunching up as you screwed your eyes closed and pushed. It felt futile. All the effort of the last couple of hours had nothing to show and you didn’t think you were anywhere near being finished. The painful stretch between your legs had you ready to tap out and ask for something stronger but then the pressure flooded from you and the breath you held whooshed out with it.

“Here she is,” Doctor Turner exclaimed as she lifted the tiny form out of the water and carefully laid her on your chest before draping the warm towel over the both of you. She gently rubbed your daughter and by the third pat a warbling cry filled the air.

It was only then that you could breathe. Suddenly you were present once again in your body and you could hear the soft cries echoed by Lando and Charles’ happy sniffles.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered through your hoarse throat.

As if she recognised your voice, her little eyes peeked open and her cries settled. Flecks of gold broke through a myriad of green shades reminding you of when summer ended and the trees began to change colour and fall.

“Did you have a name picked out?”

You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from hers until your vision blurred and you had to blink away the tears. “I think I know one.”

“Yeah?” Lando asked as he carefully caressed her cheek like she was the most precious thing in the world. “What is it?”

“Autumn.” You looked up to see them both smiling at the name, your heart doing a little jump. “Autumn Norris-Leclerc.”

“It’s perfect, mon amour,” Charles agreed with a nod as he kissed your temple. “Princesse Autumn.”

“Ha!” Lando suddenly exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention to him and his proud grin - but it was aimed at Charles. “Told you my pullout game was better than yours.”

Click here for the next part.

[mrchiipchrome]

Talkin' 'Bout My Girl

W.C. - 6.3 k

Warnings: throwing up ig?

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

Lucy’s calling, answer me, Lucy’s answer me. 

Your phone blasts the annoying ringtone Lucy had created the latest time you’d met her, she’d insisted on having a unique one so that you’d answer all her calls. Spoiler alert: you didn’t answer all her calls.

Groaning loudly as your sleep is interrupted by the older woman calling you, she obviously didn’t think about the fact that you were in a totally different time zone and therefore calling you at 7 in the morning wasn’t a good idea.

“Fucking hell Luce, why’re you calling me at 7 in the fucking morning?” You can hear the way she laughs at your grumpy tone and how she sucks in a breath after a second or two. Well at least one of you was enjoying yourselves.

“Ou, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, did the grumpy wittle baby not get her 8 hours of sleep tonight?” She teases through the phone, the rustling of your sheets as you sit up echoing through the room that’s practically empty, like a hollowed out coconut.

“Actually, since you woke me up at 7, I did in fact barely even get 4 hours since Em dragged me away to a party in Connecticut, got wasted and then made me drive us both home.” This just makes the older woman laugh even more. For some reason, you thought that she’d be a bit more responsible and tell you off for going to a party, but she didn’t.

“Well that’s good then, Em is finally making you go through college the correct way, by going to parties.” You groan loudly as you stretch out the tightness in your limbs, the headache that appears soon goes away just as quickly. The floor is cold beneath your feet as you stand up from the bed, dragging your hand over your face before slapping yourself a few times to really wake up.

“Yeah, the proper college experience or something like that.” Lucy hums at your statement, her usually thoughtless brain quickly reforming to its usual state. 

“Mhm, well I’ll call tonight then, don’t sleep too late.” You say goodbye to the defender quickly before she hangs up the phone, venturing into the kitchen to pull open the door of the fridge, substituting a warm cup of bitter coffee for an energy drink.

“You’re going to be my best friend the coming four years, aren't you?” You look at the ice cold can in your hand as you speak, smiling sarcastically as you pop the tab open and take a swig, the weird aftertaste of pure caffeine leaving a streak down your tongue.

“Fucking hell, why do I not have anything at home?” As you look into the empty pantry, you suddenly understand why you should’ve taken Em’s advice earlier in the week, ‘fill your kitchen up like you have a whole family to feed’. Apparently a whole family equaled a drunk Em.

Peeking into the living room, you immediately see Em fast asleep on the couch, half her body hanging off the small piece of furniture like she was some drunk dad in a movie. Her mouth is wide open and the snores escaping from between her lips are just brutal.

Her party clothes from the night before are still donning her body, the dress barely staying intact after a night of tossing and turning to find a comfortable fit on the uncomfortable couch. But at least she’s not throwing up in the bathroom, so that's a plus.

You sigh, the quiet patting of your bare feet hitting the floor reaching your ears, fingers wrapping around the discarded blanket laying on the floor beside her on the floor and pulling it up to cover her body. She shifts underneath it, mumbling incoherently at you.

“Thanks mom.” You giggle at her sleepy presumption and she grumbles before turning her back to you like a moody teenager.

“Not your mum Em, but no problem anyway.” Walking back to the kitchen, you quickly find your phone before going to look for your wallet in your room, the sleek black leather laying on the floor beneath your mattress.

“Okay, just got to swing by the kitchen again then I’m off.” You mumble to yourself, patting your sleep shorts to see that you had everything you needed with you. The old Arsenal shorts from your time in the academy and the brief time you’d spent in the first team were the first things you’d packed for your move to America.

The comfort of home you supposed.

The simple t-shirt you had on was a Harvard one you’d gotten practically the first day on campus, the small ‘sports’ being printed just beneath the massive lettering of Harvard across your chest. It’s still warm enough outside to not need a jacket, you think to yourself, the sun shining brightly in the sky.

Picking up your can when you pass by the kitchen, you quickly make your way towards the door, finding the keys to your car hanging on the small hook meant for jackets. The metal ring you put them on clinks as you pull your keys off the hook, pulling your shoes over your bare feet before you turn the lock with a satisfying click, unlocking the door before disappearing out of it. Your key turns in the lock as you close the door, effectively securing Em inside the apartment.

The nice old lady living in the flat beside your own walks out of her door at the same time you do yours, her kind smile immediately filling you with a comforting warmth, her grandmotherly energy enveloping you fully, almost transforming you back into that little kid who would sit and wait for your gran to read a bedtime story.

“Hello dear, what are you doing up so early?” Her southern accent makes her words almost unintelligible, but you understand them either way, nothing was worse than drunk Em trying to speak. The large Newfoundland dog wagging his tail beside her yaps excitedly as he notices you, his entire body wiggling.

 “Oh I’m off to the bakery to get some pastries, Em got really drunk at a party yesterday and I don’t have anything for breakfast, so bread and pastries it is.” She looks amusedly at you, despite only having been neighbours for about two or so weeks, it was like the older woman had seen both you and Em grow up the entirety of your lives.

“Yeah that does sound like Em, don’it.” You laugh along with her, walking closer to pet Bubba who jumped at you as soon as you were close enough for him. “Bubba, no, you know we don’t jump on people.”

Laughing at the gentle giant, your hands soon tangle in his soft fur, giving him a bunch of kisses. 

“Oh Mrs. Peters, you know it’s his fault that he gets so excited, he’s just a little baby.” She rolls her eyes fondly at you and her dog, a simple tug of his leash making the fluffy dog go back to his owner. Moving towards the stairs you quickly turn back to ask her;

“Mrs. Peters, do you want anything from the bakery?”  She smiles but shakes her head, signaling that she doesn't want anything, before she enters the elevator and disappears from your line of sight.

You hum the tune to the song playing in your headphones as you walk down the stairs quickly, arms nearly tied to your body as you make your way down to the bottom floor of the building. The last step is one you jump over, walking over to the door that opens almost automatically and exiting the building completely.

The rays of the brightly shining sun hit your face as soon as you step out into the warm weather, Frank Ocean’s soft voice floating through your headphones as you walk, the wind blowing onto your exposed arms. 

It wasn’t often that people would just walk through the neighbourhood just to appreciate the scenery, to appreciate the nature and the small things that often seemed unimportant when living in such a fast tracked life as you did.

But you couldn’t just ignore the beauty in the simple things, the beauty in the small flowers growing along the road, the beauty in the gravel crunching under your feet as you walked, the warmth of the sun against your skin and the cooling effect of the wind.

It was all so beautiful, the calm and simple beauty.

You could find beauty in everything you saw, if you knew where to look for it, the soft smile on the mother’s face as she watched her toddler climb on the structure, the bird chirping as you pass it by, the old man sitting on a park bench. 

The world wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, they just hadn’t looked at it the right way.

The chime of the bell hanging above the door takes you back to only hours before, when you’d been at the diner with the divine girl, Nika. God, she was the embodiment of beauty, Aphrodite reborn as a human. 

The local bakery is well known among students, professors and newcomers alike, everyone knows about the bakery with the best pastries in the whole of Boston. Knowing that, it’s not even close to surprising when the line to the register reaches across the room, looking up at the menu of sorts to see what you want to pass the time.

There’s music flowing out the speakers, covering the low sound of people speaking to each other with its instrumental cling. You didn’t mind it though, it made everything just feel more real in a sense, there was no telling why, you don’t even get a chance at trying to figure it out as your phone starts ringing again, though this time it wasn’t Lucy’s voice ringing out, instead it was the infamous song of Arsenal, The Angel aka North London forever.

“Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure of a call? Did Spurs win?” You were both Arsenal through and through, but you always liked to tease her about her being a Spurs fan, the arch rivals of Arsenal being one of the things the older woman hated the most.

“Thank god, they didn’t win. No, I’m just calling to check up on you, ask how you’re settling in and all that.” She tries to be nonchalant in her tone, but  having known the blonde for as long as you had, you knew that there was something more to it. Thankfully, the line’s length has barely changed since the second you walked in, so there’s plenty of time to figure out what she’s playing at.

“Leah, what do you really want? I know you as well as you know yourself.” When you hear her sigh you pump your fist in the air triumphantly, getting more than a few judgy looks and glances from the people around you.

“Well, Jordy and I are having a bit of an argument right, and as our unofficial kid we need you to settle this.” You nod before you realize that she can’t see you, quickly replying verbally.

“What’s the arguing about?” She almost cuts you off with the speed at which she responds at, the smallest giggle to her tone giving you the impression that the matter at hand wasn’t as serious as she’d first made it out to be.

“Who do you think Blu loves the most?” Giving it a second before you answer to give the illusion that you actually thought about it, you can almost imagine the smile on her face, thinking that you’re going to back her.

“Neither of you, Blu loves me the most.” Leah lets out an offended gasp at your statement, and you can hear Jordan’s laugh in the back for a second before a playful slap can be heard. On your side of the line, only a giggle can be heard with the simple murmuring of day to day life in the background.

“That’s only because you give him so many treats.” The blonde groans at you, but you just smile smugly in return, not that she could see.

“It sucks to suck doesn’t it, Lee.” The line of people in front of you gets smaller and smaller with every passing minute as people order, with there only being around five or so people in front of you now.

“Well I wouldn’t know much about sucking, right Jord?” When you finally catch on to what she’s insinuating, you gag, not even caring that there are tens of people around you who can hear.

“Ew, I don’t need to know about what you two get up to in your spare time.” The sentence is whispered, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. “Listen, I’ve got to go, I’m about to order some pastries for me and Em so I’ll call you back later.” 

By now you’re nearly at the front of the line, about to get what you came for. But they didn’t seem to want to end the call, nor the teasing they were putting you through.

“Ooh, does your girlfriend want a sweet breakfast?” If the two could see you they’d guaranteed to be laughing their heads off, the look of pure disgust on your face simply hilarious.

“Em’s not my girlfriend, even the thought of that is just like ew.” You shudder when you think about it, the girl had quickly become one of your closest friends and to even entertain the idea of being with her romantically was just gross.

“So you’re just buying her breakfast platonically?” Rolling your eyes at the conversation, you quickly plaster a smile on your face as you reach the counter. 

“Hi, I’d like four croissants and a caramel coffee.” The cashier’s name tag reads ‘Amelie’, the girl looking at you confused as if she doesn’t understand what you’re saying. The women on the other side of the phone snicker and if you weren’t raised the way you were, you would’ve hung up by now.

“A caramel coffee? You mean a caramel macchiato?” She questions dryly, like she really doesn’t enjoy her work.

“Yeah let’s go with that.” You pull out your wallet from your pocket, fishing the card out whilst trying your very hardest to not drop the phone sitting in the space between your head and your shoulder. 

“That’ll be 14 dollars.” Blipping your card against the side of the maschine, the transaction goes through without a problem thankfully. You smile at the girl again as she tells you that your order will be ready soon, and as you walk over to sit down at a table you can hear the kissy noises they’re making.

“Did you two just collectively decide not to hear me say ‘me and Em’, the idiot got wasted last night and I don’t have anything at home, courtesy of that drunk idiot. So me being the great friend that I am, decided that it was better to get breakfast than having to deal with a hangry and hungover Em.” You can hear the way they let out sounds of realization, understanding what you mean.

“Hey, why didn’t you bring us treats when we were hungover?” Leah asks, apparently offended that you hadn’t done this for them.

“Well, you two never took me out to parties so I never knew when you were hungover.” Despite them not being able to see it, you shrug absentmindedly, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t get to go with them.

“Fair enough.” 

“Listen, I’ll call you back later, I’ve got to carry everything home and I only have two hands, so.” The two say goodbye before hanging up, and you slip your phone back into your pocket as you walk up to the counter, taking the paper bag with you as you walk out into the warm weather again. 

The walk back home is just as peaceful as the walk to the bakery, maybe the usual Boston had decided to take a break for just a day. Well whatever it was, you were thankful for it, your sleep deprived mind couldn’t handle much more than it already had.

When the lock clicks and you open the door, you’re met with the sound of groaning coming from the kitchen. Taking off your shoes at the entrance, you hang your keys back on the designated hook before you move towards the kitchen.

Peeking around the corner and into the kitchen, you quickly find the source of the noise. Because Em was standing in the middle of the room, banging her head against the counter clearly in quite a bit of pain. 

Why she was hitting her head against the counter then, you didn’t know, it’s completely irrational. But if that’s what she wanted to do then you’d let her, it wasn’t really any of your business.

“Em? What are you doing?” She looks up at you when she hears your voice, her gaze murderous, her hands in her hair, massaging her head like it was the last thing she’d ever do.

“Oh, grumpy you’re finally home, where have you been and why did you let me drink so much last night?” She groans out from between clenched teeth, your laugh filling the room pitifully within seconds at her words. It is funny after all, it was Em herself who insisted on drinking last night and her suffering the consequences of her actions was hilarious.

“I was out being an amazing friend and getting us both some breakfast.” You place the bag on top of the counter, almost right in front of Em’s face, but when she makes the motion of grabbing the bag and consuming the contents, you snatch it from the counter.

The older girl whines at your actions, her head coming down against the marble countertops again, the repetitive thumping annoying you more than you’d like to admit.

“Listen, I didn’t spend 14 dollars just for you to throw it back up. Off you go, get ready and for god’s sake please do not throw up in my living room.” Putting your hands on the back of her shoulders, you gently lead her all the way out of the room and into your bathroom, sitting her in front of the toilet before going back to the kitchen. “Oh, I talked to Luce earlier, she wants to thank you for making me ‘experience college the right way’.”  

Emma lets out a groan that sounds like a hybrid of a hawk getting piped and the death whistle, was getting praised by THE Lucy Bronze really worth the terrible hangover? Only Em could answer that, and she was currently hanging over the seat of your toilet, puking her guts up.

You can hear Em flushing and then moving to the sink, turning the tap on and taking some into her mouth, swirling the water around. Her bare feet slap disturbingly against the wooden floor as she makes her way towards the kitchen, your back turned towards her as she comes up behind you, her arm slinging around your shoulders.

“Wait, Luce? Luce as in Lucy Bronze? Lucy Bronze, the three time Champions League winner?” You shrug at her, turning back around to face the rest of the kitchen with Em hot on your heels.

“Yeah, I mean knowing her is not impressive.” Em’s wide eyes suggest a different story, her hands coming up to lay on your shoulders as she shakes your body back and forth.

“Wait, you know THE Lucy Bronze?” Taking her hands off your shoulders, you push the coffee cup into her free hand and a croissant into her other one. She nods thankfully before she hops up and sits on the counter, the small bag being placed between your bodies as you sit beside her on the counter.

“Did I forget to tell you that? And also why would she call me if we didn’t know each other?” Your eyebrows knit together, thinking back to all the conversations you and Em had over the past two and a half weeks.

“UH yeah, how do you know the best defender in the world?” The brunette girl slaps your shoulder playfully, studying your side profile out the corner of her eye. You look back at her in the exact same way, a small almost unknown smile on your face.

“Our mums knew each other, I’ve known Lucy since I was in diapers. And besides, I wasn’t the only one out here hiding family.” Raising your eyebrows accusingly, the girl beside you gives you a look of perplexion, not understanding what you mean by the statement.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her feet swinging off the edge, nearly smacking against your cabinet doors every time.

“I mean your scary older brother that you never told me about.” You say matter of factly, pointing at her with a ‘you know who I’m talking about’ look. The ‘ahhh’ sound that escapes her lips when she realizes who you’re talking about sounds out through the kitchen, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Oh, Cal? Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from flushed away. Oh and that reminds  me, you have to come with me to this dinner he invited me to next week. No way I’m third wheeling all night long with him and his latest girlfriend.” The snort you let out is involuntary, the American girl’s description of her brother very vivid, and hopefully correct. It wasn’t like you’d seen her brother ever before, so you didn’t actually know what he looked like.

“Yeah sure I’ll help you feel less single, but no hand holding and no pretending to be together.” You look at her pointedly, making your point totally clear, no fake dating, that never turned out right. Em nods her head as she shrugs, as if to tell you ‘fair enough’.

“No way that I’d go out with you anyways, you’re far too grumpy for my liking. Maybe you can set me up with one of your mates in England.” Her hand covers her mouth so that she doesn’t laugh at your horrified expression, clearly you’re disturbed at the mere thought of Boston Tea Party part two happening if they ever broke up. 

“One Boston tea party is enough mate, we don’t need another.” The sip of coffee that Em had just taken covers  basically the entirety of your kitchen in a single second, the girl beside you spitting it out in surprise. “Em, come on. I’m not cleaning that up just so you know.”

Jumping down from the counter, you nearly slip on Em’s newly spit out coffee, only escaping the sticky mess by a millimeter. Her laughter clings out through the apartment, and Em makes sure to let you know that she’s sorry by telling you through her bouts of laughter.

“Look under the sink, you’ll find what you need under there.” The sound of the cabinet door opening can be heard from where you’re standing in the middle of the living room, picking up all the various things littered around the space. 

“Girl, why do you have everything under here except paper towels?” The brunette calls out for you, and you shake your head in amusement at her, there was no way that Em hadn’t thought about looking in any other cabinet than the one she had her head stuck in at the moment.

“Look in the compartment above, see if you’ll find them there.” You get the confirmation that she’s found it when she lets out a short ‘aha’, you can almost imagine the way her head hits the corner of the sink when she gets up, the loud ‘fuck that hurt’ being very telling.

“You okay?” Looking around the wall in the direction of the kitchen, you see Em sticking her hand out, the thumb sticking up telling you that she was fine.

It didn’t take as long as either of you had thought to clean the kitchen up, only a few minutes and even less to clean the mess in the living room. Soon enough, the television was turned on and the two of you were sitting in silence watching the looney tunes.

“Do you think the duck piped the rabbit or is it the other way ‘round?” Em questions, her tone completely serious, as if she wasn’t asking the craziest question ever.

“Uh I don’t think Bugs Bunny piped Daffy Duck.” Looking at her incredulously, she only responds with a shrug, her theory about the two cartoon animals being shot down almost immediately.

“Well they do have sexual tension that’s for sure.” She states matter of factly, pointing at you like you would agree. Spoiler alert: you didn’t agree at all.

“Mate what goes even on in your head?” You ask her, looking at her as if she belonged in a mental institution. Em scratches her head nonchalantly, stretching out her legs and placing her feet in your lap. “Do you not have anywhere to be?”

“Like where?” She asks, her words coming out mumbled as she’s biting her nails, chewing on the bits before she spits them out. When she looks at you she sees the judgemental look on your face, stopping what she’s doing with no real sense of urgency.

“I don’t know, maybe at home? Do you not have like a hundred plants that need to be watered?” She springs up from the couch, running to the entrance where she puts her shoes on before she shouts out a quick ‘bye’ and runs out the house.

“What is she on?” You laugh through the sentence, the pure hilarity and absurdity of most situations involving your newest best friend making you laugh more often than not.

With Em being in and out of your apartment practically every day, the week leading up to the dinner with her brother and his ‘newest’ girlfriend passes by extremely fast, feeling more like a day than a week.

“Em, what am I supposed to wear? Is it like a fancy restaurant or more chill?” You shout from your room, Em changing into her clothes in the living room. The clothing hangers click against each other as you look through the clothes you’d managed to put up over the past few weeks, many different button ups and a few normal t-shirts.

“You’re asking me this 10 minutes before we go?!” She shouts back, surprised that you’re not already finished dressing yourself and getting ready, seeing as you were the first one out the house normally.

“Yeah, I just realized that I never asked you what to wear.” You shrug to no one in particular, seeing as you were the only one present in your room.

“Didn’t your parents take you to a bunch of dinners with their clients?” Em’s voice carries through the walls, especially with the woman coming closer and closer to your door.

“I’ve been to a fair few, but in my defense I’ve always had stylists helping me so putting together outfits isn’t really one of my strong points.” Pulling out a few items of clothing, you hold them up so that they’re almost exclusively in your line of sight, looking to see if they’d match. 

“Fair enough, it’s not too fancy, just wear that linen shirt and some of your fancy pants.” She peeks her head into the room, looking at where you’re standing in your jeans, seemingly debating whether to wear the simple white button down or a Harvard t-shirt. 

“Trousers?” You raise your eyebrow cheekily at the brunette, a small teasing smile on your face.

“Yeah yeah, you know what I mean.” Emma rolls her eyes at you whilst you place the two articles of clothing back into your closet, the hangers clicking easily against the pole they’re hooked on.

“I do, I just like to annoy you.” Hearing the door click closed, you pull the linen shirt off its hangar and pull it over your head before you unbutton your jeans and pull the ‘fancy pants’ over your legs. Buttoning up the various buttons on the slacks, you quickly tuck your shirt in before opening the door and tapping Em on her head as you pass her.

“Shut up man.” You look back at Em when you reach the entrance, picking out your fanciest pairs of shoes to show her.

“Those look good?” She studies them for a second or two before nodding diligently, pulling on a pair of relatively fancy shoes too.

“They’re better than your beat up sneakers at least.” She shrugs at your offended look, almost telling you that it’s only fair since they are beat up.

“They still have at least two, three years left in them alright. There’s no need for new ones if they work just fine.” For the second time that day, you take your keys off the hook in the hall, letting Em walk out the open door before you so that you can lock everything up.

“Are we finally taking your car?” She asks, seeing the little metal key on your keychain with hers nowhere in sight. Normally you were insistent on taking hers as your baby was almost priceless, a reminder of home that you’d come to love over the past week, seeing as you’d gotten it shortly after signing your first professional contract.

“Yeah, I need to impress your brother, right?” Smirking cheekily over your shoulder, you see Em smiling widely at you as the lock on the door clicks closed, waiting for you to follow her into the elevator.

“Can I-” She starts off, the cool air in the lift making the hair on your arms raise, the skin becoming all prickly like that of a goose.

“No.” You can see the way Em pouts almost like a petulant child through the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest as she glares at you.

“You don’t even know what I was about to ask you.” Raising a single eyebrow at her, you look down at her through the corner of your eye, like you did more often than you were willing to admit.

“No, but I do know you and that’s enough, no one other than me will ever drive my car.” The late afternoon sun glows bright orange like hot coals as the two of you step out into the humid air, the garage not too far away from the building’s entrance. Picking out the right key, you quickly unlock the door before pulling it up, revealing the gorgeous red ‘67 Mustang that Em always wanted you to drive.

The girl in question wolf whistles when she sees the car, a hand coming up to shelter her eyes from the sun beaming into them, moving towards you with slow steps. Walking into the garage, you motion for the other girl to open the door on the passenger side as you plop down into the driver’s seat. 

You don’t have to feel around for very long to find the ignition, as you push the clinking keys in, smiling satisfied as the motor revs up loudly. Applying a small amount of pressure to the gaspedal, it’s not long until you’ve navigated your way out of the garage successfully and pulled onto the main road.

Pulling the seat belt over your body as soon as you’ve made it out to the main road, you waste no time in pulling your sunglasses out of their compartment and putting them over your eyes so as to not get completely blinded by the sun.

“Okay, give me the rundown of your brother, likes and dislikes, hobbies, aspirations, all the basic knowledge apart from him looking like the rat from flushed away.” Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, you peek down at the phone that’s currently giving you directions for the restaurant, the beautiful nature almost mesmerizing.

“His full name is Callum Adam Whitmore, he’s 23 years old and he plays basketball for UConn. He likes sports, hitting on anything that has a pulse, pretending he knows how to play the guitar and pretentiously explaining movies. He dislikes losing, being told no by our parents and me on a few occasions. Hobbies are partying and gaming, aspires to go to the NBA. That’s all.” Em lists, giving you all the information you need to adequately make the assumption that Callum Adam Whitmore is kind of an arse.

“Well he sounds…nice?” There’s no denying how questionable you sound, clearly not believing the words coming out of your own mouth. Em looks at you over the tops of her own glasses, giving you a skeptical look.

“No he doesn’t, he’s an ass and to use the correct terminology, a fuckboy.” Em pushes her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose, turning the knobs on the inbuilt stereo for it to start playing music, ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations flowing softly out the speakers.

“Sing with me grumpy! I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me, I’ve got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees.” She sings loudly, her hands gesturing for you to join her in singing as you shake your head, a small smile on your face at her antics. “Come on, sing it man! I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?”

Finally relenting at the last second possible, you join the older girl in song happily.

“My girl, my girl, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl.” Tapping along to the beat just as the last note of the song rings out, you pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, effectively ending the little karaoke session you were participating in.

“Holy shit man, that went so fast.” Em pats your shoulder as you pull into a parking space at the corner of the big parking lot, taking the keys out of the ignition before you fold your sunglasses and place them back into their compartment.

“Perks of having a really fast car.” Waiting from the brunette to step out of the car, you don’t waste a second in locking up the extremely expensive piece of machinery. You take a second to fix your hair in the rear view mirror, even though you don’t really know why, there wasn’t really anyone in that restaurant to impress now that you knew that Em’s brother was a total ass, but your instinct told you to. 

“Can you hurry up?” The girl in question asks from her place in front of the restaurant door and you send her a sarcastic smile in response, half running half walking up to her.

She doesn’t say anything as she pushes the door open, in fact she doesn’t say anything until you two reach the hostess stand where she tells the worker the name of the reservation.

As the worker leads the two of you over to the table there’s a million different thoughts running through your head, why were you nervous? Why did it feel like your stomach was about to explode? Why were there so many tables in the restaurant?

You only really tune back into the real world around you when Em pinches your side, her head turned towards a table with a man sitting alone, presumably her brother. The man stands up and walks around the table to reach your side, bringing your friend into a familial embrace, before he turns to you and sticks his hand out.

There’s no avoiding the sense of deja vu you get from the action, remembering the girl from the party almost a week ago who’d done the exact same thing, but then again it was the most common form of introducing yourself.

“Cal Whitmore.” His voice is on the deeper side, not Darth Vader deep but definitely on the deeper side of the spectrum. His calloused hand grips onto yours in a confident handshake, fingers gripping onto yours harder than needed, which fits the cocky description Em had put forth.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You smile staley at him, the man moving back to his side of the table as you pull out the chair for the girl beside you, only sitting down when she’s settled.

“So, where’s your darling date Cal?” Em asks her older brother teasingly, looking around the restaurant like she’d appear just out of anywhere.

“Calm yourself Em, she went to wash her hands.” He leans back in his chair cockily, his eyes glued to the backside of one of the waitresses passing by like some horny teenage boy.

“You know what, he does kind of look like the rat from Flushed Away.” You lean in closer to Em as you whisper, studying the man’s face carefully and noticing increasing similarities between the stopmotion rat and the tall man.

“Em, what the fuck, have you been telling people that I look like the rat from Flushed Away again? I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.” He looks at the girl beside you in disappointment, his thin lips turning down quickly. Well that was until a sweet voice cut in, a soft hand with fingers adorned with rings placed on his shoulder, moving down to his chest softly.

“What has she done now?” That accented voice was familiar, and as your eyes trail up from the stranger's hand to her chest and then lastly to her face you soon realize why it was so damn familiar. The careful upwards tug of her lips to the slight curls of her hair and the furrow in her brow, there was no denying that the girl standing before you was someone you recognized.

Fucking hell, you’d just taken your best friend’s brother’s girlfriend out on a date a mere week before meeting him officially. You were officially fucked.

[daycourtofficial]

Worms, worms, worms!

Pairing: Modern!Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.2k | warnings: none

Summary: Eris's son Atlas is finally asking the important questions about life and how far his dad’s love extends

Author’s note: and that’s a wrap on @erisweekofficial for me!!! Had to end it with this idea from @pit-and-the-pen. I had a lot of fun. I posted 32.7k worth of words about this ginger man who won’t leave me alone (and probably have 10k worth of words sitting in my drafts that I didn’t finish).

It had been raining for three days in Autumn. Eris woke up to a small body tackling him, giggles filling his ears as a tiny but loud voice screamed in his ear, “worms!”

Eris quickly clamped a hand over the toddler’s mouth, looking over to find his mate still snoring lightly. He looked back at his son, hand still clamped to his mouth but he felt the grin beneath it.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll find you in your room.”

That was not a suitable answer for Atlas, who was currently in a phase where being away from either of his parents was considered cruel and unusual punishment. His little lip wobbled, tears quickly springing to his eyes before Eris realized his error.

“You can stay as I dress if you are quiet and do not disturb your mother.”

His whispered words were stern, but Atlas nodded and Eris removed his hand from the toddler’s mouth. He walked backwards, watching Atlas cuddle up in his spot on the bed, his little body wanting to cuddle up to his mother.

Unfortunately for Atlas, you had spent the night throwing up, and in a hormonal fit banned Eris from the bathroom. He couldn’t decide what was worse - comforting you while having to watch you vomit or having to listen to you throw up in the comfort of his bed.

The two of you were still trying to figure out when to tell Atlas his reign as the youngest Vanserra was coming to an end, but there was still time before you began showing. You hardly showed at all while pregnant with Atlas - maybe Eris would be lucky and not have to tell Atlas until the babe arrived and then his son would be so enamored with the thing he wouldn’t have time to be upset. Atlas loved his cousin, Nyx, but there was no telling how he’d respond to another child around permanently.

Eris pushed away his doubts and scooped Atlas into his arms. He carried him through the door and down the hall back into Atlas’s room before setting him down on his bed. The miniature version of himself looked up at him, a tiny furrow in his brow.

“Worms are outside, Dada.”

“Yes, but if you want to find worms, you have to dress for worms, not wear your pajamas.”

Eris moved through the drawers, finding clothes for Atlas to wear, as well as his raincoat and mud boots. It took several minutes of wrangling and holding him down to get his son dressed, but he looked adorable in the bright yellow raincoat. The hood of it even had tiny eyes and a bill sewn into it, courtesy of his Aunt Elain. 

The day Atlas grew out of loving ducks would be a very sad day for Prythian. 

The two walked down the hall, or at least they attempted to. Atlas’s boots made him waddle ever so slightly when he got too fast, which was very often as they got closer and closer to being outside. They went to the back of the house, Atlas’s boots squelching with each step in the wet ground. Beyond the house, just before the trees, was a clearing that Atlas has figured out is the perfect spot to go hunting for worms. The land was full of mud - occasional hoof marks and carriage tracks, but the air smelled of fresh rain and dirt.

Eris turned his head just in time to hear a plop as he watched Atlas sit in the largest puddle he could find, sticking his tiny fingers into the mud, squishing the mud in his fist as he giggled in happiness. Eris hiked up his pants before crouching down next Atlas, balancing on his heels as he helped Atlas dig in the dirt. A short silence overtook the pair interrupted only by a soft squeal and wet dirt being flung into the air, thankfully in the direction away from Eris. 

“Atlas.” Eris’s voice was stern, a sheepish look on his son’s face. “We’ve talked about this.”

“No throwing dirt.”

Atlas was an easily excited child. He loved all things in nature and oftentimes was not wholly aware of his surroundings, leading to several people having what is now commonly known as ‘Atlas dirt incidents’. Whenever they would complain to Eris, he would look down his nose at them and ask, “why were you standing so close to a boy playing in the mud?”

Eris continued helping Atlas dig through the mud, his soft squeals of excitement reminding him of Clover’s new litter of pups that happened to coincide with this newest babe. The pup will be six months older than this new addition, plenty of time for Eris to train them a good bit. 

Atlas’s own dog, Pumpkin, had remained inside - usually as rambunctious as Atlas, it was a funny sight how the rain caused him to cease all interest in expending any energy. He was likely sprawled across Atlas’s bed, the wetness in the air outside keeping him asleep.

Atlas's small hand had formed a fist in the mud, the ends of a few worms wriggling, attempting to escape his clutches. Eris lightly grabbed his son’s hand, trying to get him to relax his grasp. He often got so excited over the worms he found, he would inadvertently squeeze them to death. The tears that formed from that seemed to last for a week, his son’s voice trembling as he asked over and over again if he was getting banished to Illyria for being a worm slayer.

It would be funny if Eris didn’t have to be the one consoling Atlas.

“You love me, right Dada?”

“More than you know.”

Eris held onto a few of the worms so his son could look at each worm individually. As if he were inspecting them, his eyes assessed each worm with intense focus, before he would proudly proclaim the worm’s name. Last time they did this, Atlas named seven worms - three were named Pumpkin, two were named Mama, and two were named Dada. Despite his many talents, Atlas wasn’t very creative with worm names.

“What if I was a worm?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue, the resolute what a silly question, why would you be a worm? But Atlas’s big eyes looked up at him, dulling his sharp tongue. He kept Atlas’s gaze, trying to soften his own and smiled.

“Very much.”

Atlas would tell you later on about this and you would spend all week teasing Eris by asking, “would you love me if I were a tea kettle?” and “what if I were a cow, hmm?” You would tease, despite the fact that Eris was sure you had asked him your own fair share of silly questions. 

That’s okay. He’d take the teasing. He’d carry you and Atlas around in his pockets, providing fresh dirt every day if he had to. He’d do anything to make the two of you happy, including indulging his toddler’s questions about life as a worm.

He would love a worm if it would spare his son a moment of heartache.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Thanks for reading❣️

[staticbleeding]

⛧°。 ⋆Waiting on the Stars⋆。 °⛧

+:｡.｡　teen Stanford Pines x gn reader　｡.｡:+

The second part!! I was not expecting so much love on my first post on this account! I am so happy y'all enjoyed the first part! Enjoy this <3 warnings : strong language, suggestive language, the usual teen shit pt.1 pt.2

1972 After the night at the pawn shop, Ford hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. It is starting to become painfully obvious. Especially to Ford's twin that has to hear all the midnight ramblings. Will he have to help his brother out, or will fate help Ford himself?

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Ford's POV

I wake up to Stan's snoring. Pushing my glasses onto my face, my feet touch the ground beneath me. I rub my eyes and start to regret not getting much sleep. Looking up at the clock on the bed side table, my heart drops. I'm gonna be late.

"Wake up Stanley. We are going to be late if we don't leave in like 30 minutes! I can't miss the first block", I say as I shake the sleeping man above me. His arm lays down off his bunk.

"Fuck off Sixer we can be a little bit late"

"Stanley it's not going to happen." I say as I stumble out of bed and pull my neatly folded clothes out of the dresser and begin pulling them on.

"Sorry you only get a chance to see your little lover in class man, but ain't no way I am getting up after you kept me awake all night". Stanley grumbles and rolls back over in his bed.

"Please Stanley.." I reluctantly beg my sleeping brother

With a loud groan Stanley jumps off the bed and starts putting on his clothes from the floor.

"Thank you". I sigh out and rush to the kitchen to make some sort of breakfast before we leave.

"Morning dears! You two slept in didn't you?" Ma cheerfully asks as her arms cradle the youngest of the Pines, Shermie.

"Yeah Ma," Stan runs out of our room yelling and leans down to plant kisses on our brother's small head, " Fordsy wouldn't let me get anymore. Couldn't miss out on seeing his little lover." His elbow pokes my side before grabbing his favorite snack.

"Stanford! You didn't tell me you have a little (girl/boyfriend/partner)! I am your mother!" Ma laughs out.

Looking down at my feet I stutter out, "Not exactly.."

"He's too.. s-scared to ask t-them out." Stan poorly attempts to mock me. A loud booming laugh comes out of his mouth.

"Quit it Stanley. I am sure your brother will get the courage soon. When can I meet them?" An overly excited Ma elbows me.

"We have to go Stan. Please. Ma, I haven't even really talked to them. I can't ask them out, let alone invite them over for dinner. Now we must leave." I say before kissing her on the cheek and grabbing Stan to pull out of the door. 

Wishing for a quiet ride to school was nothing but fantasy with Stan. I couldn't do more than just stare out the window and wish the long rant of his would end quickly.

"I don't see why you don't just go up and ask them out Ford. They seem like a nice enough person to not throw a drink in your face for asking them out. I take a couple of classes with them. Pretty smart cookie too." My twin's words fall out of his mouth as if he is some expert in relationships.

"I can handle my own relationship ventures Stanley. Thank you but I really don't think they like me back. Hell why would they? I can't even look at them without becoming a mess and stumbling on my words. For all I know, they have a guy already." My hands find my face.

"Ford, they don't have a guy. Please. They ask me about you all the time in class. I may not have a good thing with relationships, but look Sixer, they would be stupid to not like you back," His hand touches my shoulder and squeezes, "but if they don't then more chicks for us when we set sail on the Stan O' War eh??". My stomach tightens at the thought of (Y/N) asking him about me. What did they want to know? Oh God what did Stan tell them?

As the car comes to a stop, I jump out and thank Stanley for the talk. Rushing to class, I find (Y/N) sitting in their usual seat doodling in their note book. I smile and wipe my hands on my pants. Walking over to our partnered seats, I feel my heart race quicken when they look up and smile that smile at me. My face warms quickly. My hand waves at them.

"Thought for a second you weren't gonna show Ford. Started to get worried Stan's driving finally killed you." God there is that smile of theirs.

"Haha.. no no. He just wouldn't get up." I stutter out as my stomach tightens realizing that they just said they worried about me.

"Well I will remember to yell at him later for almost making you late". They laugh and we sit in a comfortable silence.

"So what do you have planned for this weekend?" I swear I see a light blush appear on their face.

"Me?! Oh um.. working probably. Stan hates working the shop on the weekends". I say while looking down at my hands.

"Oh well that sucks. I was gonna see if you wanted to maybe.." They are quickly interrupted by the teacher coming into class with a mumble of sorrys and excuses for being late.

Quickly they turn their focus back to the notebook. It's a little black notebook that has stars they are drawing on the cover. A blush coats their face.

Soon class ends and I watch as they hurry out. This time they turn around and smile at me. My heart skips. I find myself thinking of that one interaction the rest of the day. I walk out of the school and towards the bright red car parked out front. A smile plastered to my face. It fades seeing Stan outside the car holding a way too familiar notebook.

"Don't tell me you took their notebook Stanley! I get wanting to help me but that is insane!" I whisper scream out towards my brother.

"Don't get your panties in a twist Sixer. They left it in class today, but...here check the cover". He tosses the object towards me that I luckily catch. I open the cover and see their name and the words 'If lost call me!' with their number attached. A blush finds my face. Is this the chance I have been waiting for?

"Lets go man. You got a call to make". Stanley laughs and gets into the car.

The car ride home was filled with silence as I went over every possible outcome to this. They could think I was weird for using their number without permission, or ask why Stanley didn't call, or..

My thoughts are quickly stopped as Stan slams on the breaks and parks. I quietly get out of the car and go upstairs. I thank the stars that Stan is working the shop tonight.

I sit in the kitchen watching the phone as if it will grow legs and walk out. My palms sweat against the hard cardboard cover. Stanley walks in to the room whistling. He stares at me and sighs.

"Sixer...seriously? You still haven't called?" He leans across the counter and eyes the notebook.

"This is a really bad idea Stan. I can't do it. I will just hand it to them personally first thing Monday Morning" I sigh and start to stand up to leave. I freeze in my tracks hearing the rotary dial turn.

I whip around and see Stan putting in the numbers I have eyed now for hours.

"Stan wait! Don't you dare!" I run over and go to press the receiver before the call goes through. Too late. Stan laughs and hands me the phone. Walking away with a shit eating grin. I hear the voice I have imagined in my dreams countless times, the voice that causes my body to instantly react, oh God what am I going to say? Do I hang up? I feel like throwing up. My heartbeat I can hear in my ears.

"Hello?"

Too late

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Hahaha gotta love good ol' siblings!

[talaok]

His favorite patient

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

Summary: Your friend Pedro takes care of you while you're sick, and he's such a good doctor, that something sparks between the two of you.

warnings: reader being sick and having a fever (?) and my shitty writing cause im tired

(this was a request, and a very beautiful one too)

All you had done was text him that you were sick, and the next thing you knew, he was knocking at your door. 

And that wasn't even the weirdest part, the weirdest part was that you weren't surprised, because that's how Pedro was, caring, protective, and always there for you, no matter what.

The first thing he'd done as you opened the door was scolding you for even being up, and consequently, the second was ushering you to your own couch and forcing you to sit down.

You laughed the whole time at how worried he was, but then again, your genuine gratitude shined through with his every act, a gentle smile and a "thank you" spilled out of your lips the moment he made you tea, or wrapped you up in a blanket, or pulled you into his chest when the cover stopped being enough.

You remained like that, hiding in his arm while watching tv for the whole afternoon, but unfortunately, after he'd made you some soup (which you had tried convincing you could cook on your own) and ate it with you, it was time for him to go. 

So with a heavy heart and a final hug, he was gone... only to return 2 minutes later.

"Missed me already?" you joked, opening the door again

"Always" he smiled, before getting more serious "I have a problem with my car" he explained "It's not turning on, and I-" he scratched the back of his neck, trailing off "I kind of have no way of getting home"

"oh" you breathed, understanding the situation "You can just stay here" You shrugged, the solution obvious in your eyes

"Are you sure? I don't wanna be a burden or anythin-"

"a burden?" you frowned, stunned "What are you talking about Pedro, you could never be a burden" you promised, inviting him in again "and plus... I feel safer with my own personal doctor here with me" you grinned playfully

"yeah?" he laughed "Well then how could I refuse to help my favorite patient?"

"Favorite?" you gasped, feigning flatter as your right hand went to your heart "You're gonna make me blush doctor"

He snorted at that, his eyes lingering on yours for a second too long.

"Well then, the doctor's ordering bed rest"

You scowled at him, rolling your eyes

"I'm already starting to regret my decision" you muttered, but in no time, you were laid beneath the covers, ready to go to sleep.

"Ok then you're all set, I'll go prep the couch" he said, starting for the door

"what?" you asked

"the couch, I need to-"

You stopped him before he could go on

"You're not sleeping on the couch Pedro" you stated, watching his brows frown "It's uncomfortable as hell" you explained "and there's enough room here for the both of us" Your eyes went to the empty spot beside you

"Oh- no, y/n I can't"

"yes, yes you can" you interrupted him again "And you will" you decided "I'm sick, so that means you have to do whatever I tell you"

"sweetheart..."he sighed, glaring at you

"please" you pouted, "It would make me feel better knowing you're close to me" you pleaded, your best puppy eyes on you.

And what could Pedro do but not agree when you were looking at him like that? He was only a man after all.

"alright" he grumbled, "but I hope you know that means you'll have to hear me snore the whooole night"

But as it turns out, you didn't.

Your fever started going up the moment you shut off the lights, you turned and tossed the whole night, while him... he stayed up with you, checking your fever, giving you medicine and placing wet cold cloths on your forehead, until finally... you started feeling better and began drifting off... if only, of course, those damned church bells hadn't rung.

But even then, Pedro was there, placing his hands on your ears to try and protect you from the noise, and once they stopped, once he had gotten a taste of how good it felt to stay so close to you, well then he didn't have it in him to lean away, so he did the opposite: he put his arm around you and pulled you close, gently whispering "You need to rest", before inevitably, you did as told.

And it was only the morning after that you remembered all of it, it was only once you woke up, his arm still reassuringly around you, his words still reverberating in your ear, that you realized everything.

"good morning" he murmured, his head nestled into your neck

"morning" you smiled, your voice hoarse as you turned around to look at him, finding him but an inch from your face... and yet he didn't lean away.

"thank you" you whispered "for everything"

"darling I'm always gonna be here for you, whatever you need"

You smiled wide, watching his eyes fall to your lips 

"stop it" you murmured

"stop what?" he laughed

"being so nice"

"why?" he asked, smiling

You bit your lip, pondering if saying what you wanted to say really was a good idea... but then again, it was the truth, so...

"'cause you're making me want to kiss you"

"'s that right?" he smirked, inching closer

"mh-mh" 

"and what's stopping you?"

"I don't want you to get sick" you said, watching him huff a laugh

"sweetheart" he shook his head, grinning brightly "I would catch a thousand colds if it meant I got to kiss you"

And although your heart skipped a beat, you couldn't help but laugh out a quick "that's disgusting", before his lips finally met with yours.

[eyesxxyou]

❝ teddy ❞ hobie brown x gn!reader

❝ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❞ teddy bear humping, teasing, humiliation, penetrative sex

Hobie’s off doing Spider-Man stuff more often than not, it’s just a part of the job, as difficult as it is, but you’d grown to accept it. You miss him, a lot, but there are ways to get around that when he just simply can't be there to hold you the way you need him to.

You have a secret teddy bear you sleep with at night. It’s a huge thing, about half your size, dark brown, and fluffy. You had dressed it up just like Hobie, piercings and all, called it his name, misted it with his cologne, and pretended it was him at night when you cuddled with it. It was a shameful little thing. You kept it from Hobie, knowing he would tease you relentlessly for it if he ever found out about it.

It was your mistake falling asleep with it. You hadn't meant to. The faded cologne that clung to its fur and clothes made it so easy to drift away into slumber. You felt safe and safe meant sleepy.

Hobie had a habit of coming to your flat after a night of patrol, just as the sun would crest over the horizon. He’s come, crawl into bed with you, and sleep with a snore that could wake the dead.

That didn't happen this time because you had so blissfully forgotten bear Hobie on the bed and fallen asleep in your wait for Hobie Hobie to come back and sleep throughout the day with you.

You awake to a deep, guttural chuckle, eyes fluttering to open as your hazy vision cleared and saw Hobie standing over your bed, staring at bear Hobie with a grin on his dark, beautiful lips. “Wha's this then?” He motioned to the clear replica of himself in bear form you were all cuddled up with.

You scrambled up in bed, you eyes flickering between your two Hobies. “I- I uhm…”

“Do ya hump it?” He asked, such a Hobie thing to ask, tossing it back down on the bed in front of you. His lips curled when you didn't respond, cashing your eyes away from him with your fingers fiddled aimlessly with each other. “My fuckin’ days, ya do.” He laughed again, thoroughly amused by the situation and your utter embarrassment.

Hobie grabbed the bear, picked it up under its armpits and lifted it to examine it. “This me?” He asked as if the answer wasn't obvious. He wanted to hear you say it, say that you have a bear replica of him just to further your humiliation. Your face heated with embarrassment as you nod once. “Yeah…”

Hobie was silent for a moment, staring at it. A sick thought entered his head.

“Go ‘head, show me then. I wanna see.”

Before you know it, Hobie has you naked and on top of bear Hobie, straddling the thing that looks so innocently up at you. He’s behind you, large, rough hands on your hips to guide your motions as you rut your hips on rough fabric of bear Hobie's pants.

You moan softly as Hobie’s hands grope at your body, your hips shuddering against the rough fabric of your favorite teddy. Your back arches, body rolling while Hobie kissed at the shell of your ear and whispered soft obscenities to you.

“Ya think ‘e can do better than me?” He pushes your hips forward and back, forward and back, your leaking out all over the poor thing, ruining the fabric you would inevitably have to wash later as you always did. “Hm? Does ‘e make ya moan louder than me?”

You whimpered, craning your head around to look at him only for Hobie to spank you softly on the soft flesh of your ass. “Don' look at me, look at Hobie, doll.” He makes your hump and rut and fuck against your precious companion, all for his greedy eyes to take in and enjoy.

You’re cries are soft with humiliation, fingers gripping the soft plush of the teddy to keep it still beneath you while you fuck yourself against it. Hobie chuckles in your ear. “Fuckin’ pathetic, really.”

And when you cum, you make a mess of the thing, leaving your poor Hobie and wet and sticky with cum. Its face remains unchanged, just as innocent as before.

You’re forced to stare at it as Hobie gets you on all fours on top of it and eases his cock into you. You’re made to kiss it’s nose and tell it you love it while Hobie fucks himself into your pretty little hole. His cock slides against that sweet spot that makes your body shudder with the throes of another quick, shivering orgasm.

“Look at Hobie, luv. Look a’cha favorite lil’ boyfriend.”

[zweiginator]

Spoiler: Patrick's ex wife is Tashi and she falls in love with you just from that video. She arranges a meeting with Patrick where she literally begs him to let her fuck you

your mind. like patrick and tashi's relationship was doomed from the start because it was solely based on sexual chemistry and literally nothing else. tashi is hotheaded and knows what she wants. she'll get it no matter what. and she wants to mold the men she's in a relationship with into the man she needs him to be. she tries with patrick but he's far too stubborn; he grew up rich and spoiled, she should've known.

their relationship is obsessive in the rawest form. making the other jealous just for the sake of it, filthy degrading sex and every time the pendulum swings in a different direction and the other person is in charge.

it's not a sustainable relationship and patrick doesn't know what to do with himself when tashi tells him she's pregnant on a cold december night.

tashi is livid; how can patrick be so fucking reckless and simultaneously unwilling to deal with any consequence? she's turned off by his behavior and his approach to being a father. of course, he loves their daughter but he's just distant with her. doesn't want to step up in the way she expects. the pregnancy was a surprise for tashi too, but patrick doesn't seem to understand that.

they argue and tashi throws a wine glass at patrick. says she's filing for divorce and patrick says good. he moves out before she even does it. and he's still highly involved in their lives, tashi's and his daughter's that is. he loves his daughter.

every pick up is tinged in the sour taste of annoyance for the other. tashi is mad when their daughter's hair isn't combed, patrick says she wouldn't let me--tashi rolls her eyes.

"be a fucking man."

tashi says that a lot to patrick. said it a lot during their marriage too. she knows where to poke and prod and knows that that irks patrick more than she could even begin to fathom. patrick prides himself in his ego, his masculinity, his strength.

so tashi bites the inside of her cheek as she receives a text from patrick. she assumes it will be a snarky text about custody or something petty. but it's a video. she goes into the bathroom; her new boyfriend is asleep in her california king. snoring softly and ignorant to the fact that tashi's cheeks flush with a persistent annoyance of her ex-husband that transforms into ivy green jealousy when she sees the video.

a pretty girl--you--being fucked by her ex husband. the father of her child. hands all over you and you're begging for more but jesus, you're greedy--there's nothing more he can give you. every inch of him sheathed inside of you, stretching you out. it's wet and sweaty and patrick's breathing makes the veins in tashi's neck pulse as she chews the inside of her cheek until it's raw and bleeding.

you're so pathetic beneath him. she was never like that with him; in fact most of the time she was in charge. in this position. but you beg patrick to fuck you, to take you, to slap you, spit on you, cum in you.

and he does all those things. the whole thing is deranged and odd and perverted.

why did you send me this? tashi texts patrick.

patrick doesn't answer right away and tashi can't deny how wet she is. he's always been able to do that, even if the main source of her arousal are your pretty mewls, how you'll do anything to cum.

isn't she pretty?

it's redundant; he said that in the video.

tashi types for awhile.

i think i'd fuck her better.

is that a bet?

tashi hears rustling in her bed; the light of her phone is waking up her boyfriend and he turns towards her, muttering unintelligible nothings.

"art, baby, go to sleep." she kisses his forehead and he sighs contentedly. ignorance is bliss.

[buckets-and-trees]

Don't Blame Me

Fandom: MCU Title: Don't Blame Me Characters/Pairings: Bucky x f!Reader Word Count: 960

Summary: A chance encounter in the middle of the night in your kitchen.

Content Warnings: smut, vaginal penetration, some light drinking, tw: cheating/infidelity

Logistical Notes: A humble little offering for @nickfowlerrr's Seven Deadly Sins + Seven Holy Virtues writing event, though certainly no virtues to be seen here - just envy and lust.

Additional Notes: I'd been thinking of Bella's writing event for quite a while, but @biteofcherry tormented me with a very inspirational gif and fed me some naughty thots that I haven't been able to get out of my head. But finally tonight, this demanded to be told. Title taken from the Taylor Swift song of the same name as it's loosely based off some of its feelings/drives.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You hadn’t expected to have company in the kitchen when you’d left your room in only the loose tank top and panties you’d worn to bed, but you made no attempt to hide your body when you heard his footsteps quietly treading down the hallway because part of you wanted him to see.

As he rounded the corner, he flicked on the single light that hung lower over the center island counter, the soft glow illuminating you leaned up against it with a pint of ice cream and a spoon, and pouring over his shirtless form, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Oh, I didn’t – sorry,” he said softly, tugging his pants up a bit more, and averting his gaze sharply away from you.

“You’re fine. Don’t mind me.”

You watched as he turned away to grab a glass from the cupboard, longing to reach out and run your fingers over the muscles moving and stretching along his back.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here tonight,” you pressed as he slotted the glass beneath the waterspout on the door of the fridge. “You have that giant presentation for the investors in the morning.”

Bucky sighed.

“Your girlfriend, my roommate, was specifically complaining about how you wouldn’t go out with her tonight because of it – which is perfectly reasonable by the way. You know that, right?”

He didn’t respond, still not looking at you, and then it was you who let out a sigh.

“Bucky, please tell me you didn’t go pick her up when she called.”

“Of course, I did, what else was I supposed to do?”

“You’re such an idiot.”

He finally rounded on you, his face a mixture of anger and hurt. “She was drunk at a bar, she needed me.”

“No, she didn’t! She went out with five of her old college friends – any of them should have taken care of her. She could have gotten an Uber. She could have called me, and I would have grudgingly been annoyed but gone and picked her up, even though I wanted to throw things at her when she left saying not to wait up because she was going to call you to go get her anyway because she knew you’d come because you’re the perfect boyfriend.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”

You scoffed. “Sure you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Why are you arguing with me about this?”

“Because I’m not the perfect boyfriend.”

You frowned.

He flexed his left hand in agitation, making the black plates quietly whir, but every sound in this nearly silent kitchen was loud. You could even hear the gentle, intermittent snores of your sleeping roommate down the hall, Bucky having left the door open when he came to the kitchen.

You looked from his beautiful vibranium arm back up to his piercing blue eyes.

“I want you to kiss me,” you breathed, barely above a whisper.

But you didn’t need to say it any louder.

His eyes darkened at your words. “I can’t.”

“You can,” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Please just kiss me.”

“Fuck,” he whispered when you placed one hand on his shoulder and one tentatively on his waist.

You closed the space between the two of you and tilted your head up, offering your waiting lips to him.

“Please, please kiss me.”

He didn’t move, which meant he also didn’t move away.

“Bucky, I know how you look at me now. You didn’t at first, but you’re bored of little miss perfect, you want imperfection, you want reality, you want me as much as I crave you.”

He dropped his forehead to yours, shutting his eyes. “Don’t.”

You pressed your chest flush up against his. “Just one kiss.”

“It won’t be just one kiss,” he shot back so quickly your stomach flipped, and you couldn’t hold back.

You surged up and captured his lips. His hands flew up to grip either side of you head, and it would have been tender if not for the heat and rage and longing that fueled it, causing him to hold you a little more firmly. You moaned into the kiss, and he backed your hips up to the counter, then lifted your hips up onto the granite countertop. You leaned back, bracing your hands on the smooth surface behind you. You drew your legs up around the backs of his thighs to pull him close, his legs stopping against the island, and you dragging your pelvis to the very edge, pressing your cunt against the bulge in his sweatpants. He broke off the kiss, his head dropping back on a groan of pleasure.

Desire was desperately coursing through you, you had wanted this man more and more over the past months, every friendly interaction only seeping deeper and deeper into your heart.

But adrenaline and bitterness also fanned the flames of your need.

Because it was likely she’d gotten plastered enough to sleep clean through anything until morning.

But she could wake up and come out here and see you like this as you kissed her boyfriend and pushed his sweats and boxer briefs down to free his cock. She could hear him growl into your mouth, licking against your tongue in an eagerness to taste more of you, pulling your panties off so quickly.

He only broke away from the kiss long enough to line up his cock, and then he shot into you, reclaiming your lips to swallow a sharp cry from you.

You’d been fueled by lust, but sustained by longing.

This was so much more than one kiss.

And as you clutched onto his shoulders – one metal and one flesh – you knew this would not be the end of it.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[nyrandrea]

hiii I’d like to request (again if that’s ok, it’s me the one who asked for the injured ) but if so then may I ask for this time so what if everyone’s at camp all asleep when a few people sneak in and kidnap reader but Astarion wakes up hearing something wasn’t right seein what’s going on watches as reader disappears then ofc hunting them down to see them being used in an ritual all tied up and weak dndeueududid ( sorry it’s like 1:18am I’m laid awake thinking about random things 💀 )

Helloooo again! I enjoyed your last request and certainly had fun with this one too so thanks again! (1:18am is the best time for random thoughts :D )

Warnings for canon typical violence, kidnapping, rituals (kinda), blood and swears

Word Count - 2.9k

Enjoy!

xxx

Under the silvery embrace of the crescent moon, nestled within the heart of a tranquil forest, you and your companions had surrendered to the gentle clutches of slumber, a collective of soft snoring weaving its way through the rustling leaves and whispering trees. 

A clearing in the woods served as your base for the night after a long, grueling day of travelling. The grass beneath you was like a plush carpet, and a delicate blanket of dew kissed the blades, glistening like diamonds. The air was crisp, yet tender, cradling you in its nocturnal embrace. 

Your team had all gathered in a sort of semi-circle, heads pillowed upon hands or nestled into makeshift cushions fashioned from backpacks and rolled-up cloaks. You weren’t sure how or when, but throughout your sleep you had unconsciously rolled over and inched yourself closer to where Astarion lay, his delicious scent drawing you in. 

One could observe the group and note the serene expressions etched upon their faces. They appeared as though they were sculpted by dreams, their features softened by the embrace of rest. Your eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as you chased the remnants of recent adventures.  

Unfortunately for you, you were being observed. 

You flinched as the corner of your vision registered a goblin kneeling beside you, the tip of his dagger against your throat before you could even scramble for your own weapon. 

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you," he purrs, smiling smugly down at you. “Not if you want your friends to keep their innards intact.” 

Your eyes widen and dart over to where the rest of the group lay, completely oblivious to the goblins that threatened their very lives. You were even surprised to see Astarion still in a deep trance of meditation; he was usually so much more alert at night. 

“What do you want?” you whisper. 

“For you to come with us, true soul,” the goblin answered. “We are in desperate need of your... assistance.” 

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Just what I need, more Absolute nutjobs.’ 

“Look, I don’t think I can help you.” 

“Oh, but you are the only one who can,” he retorts, slowly pulling the knife away from your throat. “It’s our leader, you see. She is gravely ill and only a true soul like yourself can cure her.” 

Your face scrunches up in disbelief. “If she’s ill, then it’s a healer you need, not me.” 

The goblin frowns. “It’s you she needs, she said so herself.” His blade edges closer to you once again, signaling for you to get up. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to come with us. Or am I going to have to resort to a bit of… persuasion?” 

He exchanges a glance with one of his men, who seemed all too giddy to slash Astarion’s neck. 

“No…!” You almost shout but restrain yourself so as to not alert the others and incur a massacre. “I-I’ll come with you, just... leave them be.” 

The goblin grinned up at you, and you had to force down the bile that was rising in your throat. 

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he crooned, gesturing for you to follow.  

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze darting between your weapon and the goblin, his eyes are trained on you, almost as if he was daring you to try. Ultimately, you were outnumbered, and they held the element of surprise over your companions. No matter which way you tried to cut it, there were going to be casualties if you didn’t do what you were told. 

So, you begrudgingly allowed yourself to be led into whatever hellish fate this cult of the Absolute had in store for you. A plan of escape would have to come later, when you were far enough away from your friends. 

Unbeknownst to you, one of them was already on your trail. 

xxx 

Amidst the shroud of night, when the moon hid its luminous face behind a thick blanket of heavy clouds, you and your merry little band of kidnappers ventured into a meadow cloaked in long, swaying grass. The air had an eerie stillness about it, broken only by the distant whispers of nocturnal creatures. 

As you traversed the meadow, moving with cautious steps, your feet sinking into the cool earth with each stride, you silently weighed up your options. The grass was like a sea of shadows, their whispers brushing against your legs like ghostly fingers; it would be so easy just to blend in and disappear. 

You would have considered it, if it were not for the worgs. 

The air was imbued with the scent of dew-drenched grass, but those beasts would still be able to track you down within seconds. Only... there were most certainly four of them the last time you checked. But looking around now, you only noticed two. 

It appeared the goblins had noticed too; their hushed conversations were like faint echoes in the vast expanse, mixing with the symphony of crickets and the occasional haunting call of a night owl. You couldn’t make out a damn word they were saying, but they looked nervous. 

“It would seem that we have a stalker in our midst,” the leader of the group growled, holding up a hand for everyone to come to a halt before he grabbed your wrist, forcing you down to his level. “Sod it, change of plan. You’re with me,” he commanded one of his men before turning to the rest. “You lot deal with the bastard while we take our friend here back to base.” 

“Hey!” You grabbed his wrist and tried to wrench yourself free. “Let go!” 

“With pleasure,” he grinned as he simultaneously released his grip and struck the back of your head with a blunt weapon, rendering you unconscious just as the ambusher seized the opportune moment. With lightning speed and calculated precision, he pounced from the grass, launching himself like a shadowy wraith. Long grass bent and swirled in his wake, mimicking the dance of phantoms. 

In that fleeting moment, you caught the glint of a blade unsheathed, reflecting a cold, silver streak in the night. Chaos ensued, and the long grass became a battleground, hiding the combatants in its tangled embrace.  

The clash of steel rang through the night, intermingling with the desperate cries of your name as you slipped away into darkness. 

The ambusher moved with ruthless determination; his scarlet eyes ablaze with a wild, unholy fervor. In the end, silence fell upon the meadow, broken only by the ragged breaths of the victorious, standing amidst the long grass, a solitary figure bathed in the haunting glow of the moon, his cloak billowing like a specter as he followed the trail of broken grass the other goblins had made as they carried your prone form away. 

 xxx 

The first thing you could feel was a pounding in your head. You try to sit up, to pull your knees up so you can curl up and settle the turning in your stomach. Slowly, your eyes opened as your breath sped up. 

You were lying on the dirty floor in the middle of some sort of temple, hardly able to move due to your wrists and ankles being bound by chains. You struggle to draw in shallow gasps as you blinked through the blurriness of tears that clung to your eyelashes. 

“What?” you whisper to yourself, wiggling to try and find an opening in the chains, trying not to hyperventilate as the bindings dug painfully into your skin the more you tried to move. 

You bite your lip as your mind races with ideas to escape, to get away from this place, to kill these people for having the audacity to kidnap you, to threaten your friends. 

Different scenarios play out repeatedly in your head, but the reality was that you were powerless to do anything. 

“Comfortable, are we?” 

A goblin slinked her way over to you from the shadows, she was unlike the crude and menacing stereotypes that often plagued her kind. She possessed an eerie, captivating beauty and moved with an uncanny grace; as sinuous as a serpent. Her skin, the color of moss, bore intricate tattoos that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.  

Your skin tingled, hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as the goblin prowled behind your back to watch over your shoulder, her warm breath brushing behind your ear.  

“I do hope so - it is truly an unimaginable honor to have a true soul like yourself amongst us, especially one with such... soft, tender flesh.” 

A soft whimper pressed from your throat as warm hands slithered over your shoulders, kneading gently into tensed muscles. It sent a shudder down your spine, pressing your entire body in on itself.  

“No need to be so coy, dear,” she said. “We’ll be getting to know one another, after all. For what is to come.” 

Your lips pressed tight together as you swallowed down a knot in your throat, but your chin was forced up so that your eyes locked with hers. The symbol of the Absolute flashed on her face like a dazzling light, but no matter how much the tadpole wriggled and pulsed inside your head, nothing was happening. 

You held no authority here. 

“Those little mind tricks won’t work with me,” she sneered, pointing a clawed finger to her temple. “For I too, am a true soul. In fact, I am the one and only true soul!” 

“W-w-what do you mea-?” 

You were silenced with a hard slap. 

“You may not speak in my presence, worm,” the goblin growled. “Speaking of, I’ve got so many of the little buggers up there, I may as well be as powerful as the Absolute themselves!” She barked a laugh and grinned maniacally down at you. “And your parasite will make a fine addition to my collection.” 

‘Gods, this bitch is fucking crazy,’ you thought, but your mind immediately seized up and burned as she pried her way into it, and she was not too happy with your choice of words. 

“You haven’t even seen crazy yet,” she growled as she traced a claw down the side of your face, drawing a thin line of blood. “I think I’ll pry your worm out myself with my bare hands and make you watch as I consume it before we gut you and roast you on the spit with the rest of the pigs.” 

Strong hands took hold of your arms and legs and dragged you onto a slab of stone that had markings etched along the edges. You could just make out they were in Infernal—akin to the ones on Astarion’s back—but like his, you couldn’t decipher their meaning.  

You kicked, flailed and screamed in desperation, but you were soon silenced by the goblin as she wrapped her hands around your throat while the others formed a circle around you and started muttering some sort of ritualistic prayer. 

Your senses were dulling further by the second and a part of you wanted to give in to the pain, to just let yourself black out and fade away, but something within you pulsated with the will to live. To fight to your very last breath. Was this the parasite’s doing? Or was it something else? 

“Just give in to the Absolute, dear, "the goblin said, her tone almost sickeningly gentle. “You’ll be all the better for it.” 

“F...f...” 

“Aw, your last, dying words,” she purrs, leaning in closer to listen. “I will permit it.” 

“...Fuck you,” you spat. 

The goblin’s smug expression warps into one of pure fury, and she bares her teeth at you as she grabs a hold of your face with one hand, using the other to slowly inch her claws towards your left eye. Her hiss garbles into a shrill wheeze as a dagger is plunged into her back and through her chest several times, relentlessly. A stray drop of blood trails down her mouth as she screams silently before she is rolled away from you, her body plopping onto the ground with an unceremonious thump. 

You try to catch your breath, thanking whatever Gods were out there that they decided to spare you today. 

“Don’t thank them, darling, thank me,” a familiar voice teased, though his shaking voice betrayed his light tone. “They would have done bugger all, anyway.” 

A tiny, joyful laugh escapes from your raw throat as your eyes fall onto the welcome sight of Astarion, who seems just as relieved to see you.  

“Are you alright?” he asks, quickly approaching with what appeared to be a pair of bolt cutters. 

You nodded desperately, holding out your wrists. 

Astarion took a moment to get the teeth of the bolt cutters properly in place where they wouldn’t bite through the skin but snapped them together fairly easily. 

You shuddered a soft sob, relief dripping from your eyes as you rubbed at your wrists. Astarion didn’t wait for further instructions, you needed to move. 

He knelt by your feet, slotting one link of the chain between the thick metal teeth, then braced one handle against his thigh. It bruised and dug into the flesh of his leg, but he didn’t stop. 

The metal didn’t relent, but neither would he. 

“Astarion-”  

“Just... hold on, darling!” he says, pausing only briefly to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m no Lae’zel or Karlach; strength isn’t exactly my forte but I’ve... almost got it...!” 

Teeth grit, fueled by fear and desperation, Astarion pulled harder and harder, feeling the bruise work against the bone and listening to his back crackle at the strain. He shifted, readjusting – maybe one half of the link would be enough? It was dented – that was a good sign. 

You rested both hands on Astarion’s shoulders, steadying you both as he groaned under the effort. He jerked the handle to and fro, desperately trying to force the iron link to submit to iron teeth. 

With one final effort, the metal finally crunched, and you were free. 

Astarion’s arms encircled you with a strength that made you feel safe and cherished, while you nestled your head against his chest. 

“You... how did you...?” 

“I knew from the moment they took you,” Astarion said, smoothing down your arms, the motion was slow and helped calm you down a little. “I was, let’s say, aware of their presence in camp. But like you, I wanted to avoid a messy fight and so I tracked you down myself and... thank the gods I did.” 

“Guess they helped out a little, after all,” you weakly joked. 

“Oh shush,” he softly retorted. “It was fairly easy, what with that awful stench those creatures' reek of.” 

“So, it was you... in the meadow.” 

“It was,” he smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. “I almost had you, if only I’d been quicker, or less sloppy, you wouldn’t have...” 

His eyes, pools of worry and tenderness, never left your face. He reached out with a hand that trembled, his fingers brushing away strands of your disheveled hair. His touch was feather-light, as if he feared causing you any more discomfort. 

With a voice softer than a whisper, he asked, “Did… did they…?” The words carried the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions. 

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I’m okay.” 

He nodded, his lips curling into a tender smile as he leaned into your touch. Gently, he began to inspect your injuries. His fingers traced the contours of your throat, seeking out any sign of any permanent damage. With each touch, he was meticulous, ensuring that he didn’t aggravate the forming bruise. 

"Does it hurt much?" he inquires softly, his expression unreadable, almost dazed. 

You wince slightly but shake your head. "It's bearable.” 

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so, so strong, my dear," he whispers, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul. 

 His soft gaze hardens as he glares down at the goblins' bodies that littered the room. “Death is too good for them. I’m almost tempted to have them revived so I can make them suffer just a little longer.” 

“How did you even manage to kill so many?” you ask, you knew he was a dab hand at killing but even he couldn’t take on a whole horde by himself. 

“They were all so engrossed in their little ritual, they didn’t even see me coming,” Astarion said with a shrug. “That’s what you get for blind faith, I suppose.” 

You wanted to laugh, but your throat hurt too much. 

“Come on, darling,” Astarion gently looped your arm around his shoulder and guided you, going as slow as your aching legs would allow. “Let’s get you home.” 

Your eyes met his in a gaze that transcended words, a silent conversation of empathy and understanding. In that moment, the world ceased to exist beyond the contours of your bodies, and the only reality was the sensation of skin against skin, the intoxicating scent of each other's presence, and the unspoken promise that he would never allow this to happen to you again. 

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

More of You, Pt. 2

Part 1

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC)

Word Count : ~ 2.4k words

Warning : tooth-rotting fluff and good ol’ cursings.

Title and story inspired by the song with the same title by JP Saxe!

*****

"--ra 4 this is– tcher-1 do y– copy?"

Jade opened her heavy eyelids at the sound. She blinked a number of times to wake herself up and find out where the voice came from. 

"Sierra-4 do you copy?"

She’d recognize that voice even if it was filtered a thousand times. Laswell's voice. It came from the radio that she had put on the bedside table the night prior as the CIA said that she'll contact her about the exfil for both of them. Finally. From the colours she got in her eyes, she could tell that it was early in the morning as the sunlight wasn’t present yet.

However, when she wanted to move her body to reach the PTT, a mass of weight seemed to hold her in place, and it was looming all over her back, even to her front. That was when Jade realized how she's not in the position she first slept in. Ghost was supposed to be on her arms with her arm as his pillow to support his neck. 

Now it's the opposite. She's on her opposite side, Ghost on her back, hugging her close to him while he placed his own arm on the bed to be her pillow, and he even covered her with the blankets, so beneath the sheets, their legs were entangled together. What's even more shocking was the fact that his other arm was on her waist and stomach, pressing her body to his. 

Jade wanted to scream right now. She was going implode on his arms from the situation she found herself in.

Ghost was surely still asleep judging by the sound of his steady breaths and his unmoving limbs as he absolutely needed all the rest he could get. However, Laswell's trying to comm her right now, and she needed to get out of his enveloping arms – yet her mind was adamant to do that as it was really warm and comfortable. 

"Jade. Can you hear me?"

Goddamnit. Dammit! Dammit!! Why now Kate?!?!

Jade tried to get out of his arms, try being the keyword here. She evidently failed to do so as Ghost kept on pressing her hips back to him, his voice rumbled lowly before going back to sleep. She tried to escape another time, but the result stayed the same. 

While she found herself very amused by his unconscious actions and how almost childlike he was while doing this, Jade needed to reply to Laswell, or else she'd think they were dead. 

And so, Jade lifted her upper body ever so slightly and leaned as far as she could to the bedside table while her lower body was still wrapped by Ghost's arm. He did mumble a bit, but Jade finally managed to reach the PTT, bringing the device close to her mouth, still laying on the bed. "Watcher-1, this is Sierra-4 I copy. Send traffic."

A sigh of relief could be heard. "I thought you were dead. What took you so long to reply?"

"I was uh… drying the clothes…" 

"Well, How's Ghost doing?" 

'He's currently asleep but he's hugging me from the back and he's refusing to let me go' was the thing she wanted to say, but instead, Jade only said, "He's alive."

"Okay. I've contacted Alejandro and his team to pick you guys up for exfil. He's currently on the way to the facility to clean the place and he'll be with you in any time now."

Oh. God bless Alejandro. She's missed him since the Las Almas missions. "Copy that. Thanks Kate."

"You're welcome. Bring him home safely, Jade."

"You know I will." She smiled. 

"Take care, Watcher-1 out."

Putting the PTT back to the wooden table, Jade huffed in relief. The fact that she just answered Laswell’s call while still wrapped around Ghost’s arm was such a comical scene, prompting a chuckle out of her. Alejandro’s coming very soon, and they really needed to get ready. She had to check his wounds, change his bandages, and then prepare for the Mexican colonel’s arrival. 

A light snore from her back interrupted her thoughts.

Wow. He’s deep deep in sleep. 

The woman smiled in amusement. He really was just a regular bloke, huh?

Really slowly, She rolled her entire body, finally facing Ghost in his sleeping state – No scowl in sight, his guard completely down. His light eyelashes rested on his eyelids perfectly. He’d admitted in Las Almas that he slept with his mask on ‘soundly’. She wondered if this was one of those rare moments where he slept with his mask off during a mission. This was probably the closest she’d been to his face, or anyone, really. Heck, this is probably the closest she’d been to any man. 

...He’s quite a gorgeous man up close. 

Realizing that she was starting to blush profusely against her will, she shook her head to delete that cloud of thoughts from her mind and focus on the task at hand. 

Putting her palm on his forehead gently, Jade felt relieved that he was not burning up like yesterday, albeit still warm to the touch. His bruises obviously needed some more time to heal, and now she needed to check his shoulder and side, and that required her to wake him up. 

He’s still snoring. 

Dammit she didn’t wanna wake him up!!

Suddenly, his snore hitched, surprising her. Right at that point Jade couldn’t think of anything to do. A part of her just wanted to back away and stand up, but what would he think? He'd think that she didn't want to be any close to him and that could not be farther from the truth. 

So she stayed frozen there, trying to stay still all the while Ghost woke himself up. And with a little groan, he finally opened his eyes, focusing his eyes before quickly finding Jade’s face right in front of his and how his arm was still on her waist.

Ghost’s eyes widened at the sight, quickly lifted his hand up and leaned back to distance himself, all without uttering a single word. And boy oh boy, she never expected to see the Ghost himself blushing profusely like this. Did anybody ever see this face of his? Another medal to her collection then.

“Sorry.” He muttered with a voice deeper than the depths of hell from sleep, looking to the side to see anywhere but her face or he knew he’ll be even more embarrassed. “Must’ve… moved in the night.” 

Jade let out a light chuckle, “Relax, it’s fine. I like it when you hug me though.” Whoa. Did she just say that??

His eyebrows lifted at that statement. “Really?”

Fuck it, she’ll just continue. “Yeah. And while we’re at it, don’t you have the most beautiful eyes.” Ghost would’ve exploded at that. “They’re like uh… Like a stream of light going through a glass of bourbon.” 

He couldn’t rack up any response to that poetic description of his eyes. “...Thanks. Picked them myself.” 

Her lip curved into a smile seeing him like this, “Where did you get those?”

Right at that moment, Ghost decided to just play along. “Down the market.”

“Yeah? How much did you pay for it?” 

“A few quid.” He replied, “What about yours? They’re the colour of… like a stream of light going through a bottle of Tanqueray Gin.” Ghost recited the same words to her, prompting them to laugh at each other. 

Trying to dial down her laughter, Jade answered back, “From the streets, so I got 100% discount.” 

That got a wheeze out of him. “You got your eyeballs from the streets?” 

Jade laughed out loud, “You got yours from the market! Which unfortunate bloke’s eyes did you buy?!” 

This was gonna be an inside joke between the two of them, they were sure of it. As they guffawed at each other’s jokes, Ghost lifted his hand to her cheek, making Jade flinch. He put his finger under strands of her red hair, before softly tucking them behind her ear, all the while she just stayed there watching him. God, she wanted to see him smile and laugh like this more. Didn’t feel like a few months ago that she heard him say that he had a ‘cold heart’. 

“Sierra-4, this is Victor-1 do you copy?” 

Out of nowhere, her radio buzzed, catching both of them off guard.

“This is Alejandro, Jade, Ghost, Do any of you copy?”

Shit shit shit. Jade forgot about Alejandro coming to get them an exfil. Ghost’s eyes widened as she urgently rolled over and sat on the bed, taking the PTT close to her mouth. “Victor-1, this is Sierra-4 with Bravo 0-7, I copy.” 

“Es bueno escuchar tu voz, Jade. Is Ghost okay?” The colonel asked with his usual gritty voice.

“Yeah, he’s solid. A little banged up, but you know how he is.” Jade answered while Ghost sat up on the bed. “Are you at the warehouse already?”

“Si, me, Rodolfo and the others are here, and madre de Dios, you didn’t leave a single body alive, huh.” Hearing those words, Jade looked back at Ghost who was checking his own injuries.

Looking back at Ghost's extraction from the facility yesterday, Jade only cleared the exterior and some goons on the first floor. The basement was crawling with Narcos, yet the injured, tortured, dehydrated and malnutritioned Ghost managed to kill his way out. This fact reminding her once again of how much of a beast the lieutenant was.

"We did what we had to do to get them off our tails.” Jade said to the PTT.

“As long as you both are okay, then I'm grateful. Thanks to Ghost’s hard work in locating this facility, we can cut out the supply.” Alejandro continued, “I’m coming to get you in 10. Can you be ready by then?” 

“Claro. See you in 10 then.” 

“Okay, Victor-1 out.” 

With that, Jade put her PTT back to the table, scooting aside to check on Ghost’s wounds. “Those hurt too much?”

“Not something I can’t bear.” Ghost looked to his shoulder. Some of the blood seeped and coloured the bandage into pink. It was a bad wound after all. 

After she finished re-dressing his wounds, Jade stood up and tidied up the table, taking the used portable bonfire and both ration packages, and putting them inside her backpack all the while Ghost slowly stood up, trying to hold his weight. He must admit that he’s still dizzy from all the blood he lost. If he’d been alone, he might have had to survive the wilderness of the rainforest alone, eating any animal he could hunt. Hell, that was only if he could get out of that warehouse alive with all the injuries that was inflicted upon him.

Jade turned around to find him standing up, holding the side where a bullet grazed him. “You good?”

“I’m fine.”

“Here, take it.” He looked down, finding his skull mask on her hand already cleaned from the blood and dirt, most importantly dry. “I put it beside the little fire all night. Looks good as new. Thought you’ll need it.” Jade smiled as she looked up to accommodate their height difference. If he were to be honest, he didn’t even realize that his face had been out in the open for so long. When was the last time he had his face open this long on a mission, outside, and spent a night with a woman like this? 

Still, he owed her so much after this one. She essentially saved his life.

Ghost smiled softly, taking the mask back and wore them over his head, finally covering his face. “Thanks, Lottie. I appreciate it.”  

“Anytime, Love.” 

Jade turned back to the table to tidy up and wear her gear, but Ghost could only stand dumbfounded at the word that just came out of her mouth. 

Love.

Thank the heavens he’d worn the mask already or she would find his face as red as her hair. Fuck. 

Well, at least that’s an improvement from ‘Beanpole’.

-----

Alejandro arrived ten minutes after his call with Jade driving an SUV alone. He found the safehouse after Laswell had given him the location. Alejandro was welcomed by Ghost and Jade already outside, gears on and ready to go. 

“¡Hola, Ghost, Jade!” Alejandro shouted to them as he stopped beside the wooden cabin, a wide grin on his face. He got off the car to approach Jade, who had the same grin on her face and hugged the woman as a greeting. Ghost's body tensed beside them.

“Cómo estás, Hermana.” The Mexican colonel said, patting Jade’s back in the hug.

“Muy bien, muy bien, Coronel.” 

Seeing Jade smile like that while in someone else’s embrace irked Ghost. Huh.

Alejandro leaned back, looking at the lieutenant up and down, “You good, Ghost?”

“Not dead yet.” He replied. 

“Good to see you alive, Hermano. If you both are ready, we can get out of here, and we’ll get you both home.” 

Something clicked in Jade’s mind. “Oh, Lord. I forgot one of my knives under the bed. Sorry, can I go back for a sec?” 

“Sure.” Alejandro replied, leaning back to the side of the car before Jade walked towards the warehouse to find her blades.

As both men waited, the Mexican glanced at Ghost, who was staring at the woman’s back as she walked her way to the cabin. He knew that since the Las Almas mission, something was going on between these two Brits, prompting an amused scoff out of him. 

“Told you not to get lost.” 

The Brit flinched and looked at Alejandro, a small smile on his lips. He remembered the last thing that he’d said before leaving Las Almas along with the rest of 141. 

‘¡No te pierdas, Carnal!’

Ghost only scoffed, shifting his weight to his leg, recalling a conversation he had years ago with Price back in the SAS base.

**

“You ever think about settlin’ down, Simon?”

“....No.”

“Maybe we’ll break a leg, get shot, and our career’s over. Think you’ll find yourself a woman?”

“...She’s got to be one crazy bird, then.”

A wheeze from the captain, “Takes crazy to love crazy, innit.”

“If only there’s a woman insane enough to love me.”

**

With the sight of Jade running back their way with the said knife, Ghost turned to Alejandro, surprising him a little bit as he didn’t expect Ghost to say anything, saying,

“I’m found, Hermano.”

The Mexican colonel laughed at Ghost’s response and patted his back. “That you are. Now let’s get you home.”

fin

WOOHOO! There it goes! Hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs and replies are much appreciated (❁´◡`❁)

[aetheternity]

Pov: they catch you reading explicit content (6reeze)

A/N: I decided this is an in universe fic. Don't really need a synopsis because the title tells you exactly what it's about.

CW: Description of adult content, For some of the boys it's clearly stated romantic relationship while the others are more unclear. You can read them all as romantic or none.

-

Aether ~ You don't even bother to look up as you know it's Aether approaching you as you traverse through your favorite book on his couch. You can tell he's reading when you start to feel his breath against your shoulder and neck.

"Nosy." You mutter, smiling at his breathy chuckle.

You turn the page and not even two minutes later hear a loud gasp. You turn your head a brief giggle falling off your lips.

"What?"

"Name, you're reading a dirty book.." He teases "I thought you were so innocent too but here you are in my teapot reading about someone being ravaged." He held a hand over his chest, keeping the act going with fast paced blinks in between. Mouth wide as he continued to stare at the pages.

"You were reading along with me so you're not exactly innocent!" You bite back though you can feel embarrassment settling beneath your skin as your hands begin to sweat, face slowly burning.

"Nope, I'm an innocent bystander who didn't know what he was getting into." He playfully scoffs. You pretend to fixate back on your book turning away from him. Though it quickly feels near impossible as his mouth inches closer and closer to your neck. His breath fluttering over the skin somehow so much hotter than it had been previously.

"Do you ever imagine it's you in that situation then?" The question made you flinch. "You being the one ravaged by someone?" He giggles quickly after. Giggles like it's the most normal question one could ask.

"Idiot." You huff though it barely has bite. Your grip on the book tightens but while your eyes are scanning over the words you aren't even close to internalizing any of them. Not with Aether's breath tickling your ear lobe soon replaced by his tongue flush against your ear canal.

You squeak and the book almost flies across the room. "Put it down already." He grumbles kissing the shell of your ear. "Don't you wanna live like the protagonists in your dirty novel?"

-

Heizou ~ The two of you are the only two left at the station this late at night so when he sees your eyes sifting quickly through the words of he book he's intrigued. None of the case files on his desk had ever been nearly as intriguing as you.

"What have you got there?" He asks as he approaches

You shift your gaze to him for a brief moment before you head resumes being buried in the words on the page. "Just a novel."

"Hmm." He slides in place behind your chair, skimming along with you. You try to turn the page but he stops you. "I'm not quite finis.. oh.." He chuckles

"Let me read in peace!" You huff "Boss has been busting my ass all day. I need this."

He laughs, "You're reading something like this at the office?" He slides into place beside you on your chair. "You're not even the least bit worried I'll tell?"

"Can't exactly read it at home. I have a nosy roommate." You mutter "Pft, you're loving this too much. You're not going to tell anyone because you're too interested in how long I've been reading stuff like this."

"Ah you so get me." He chuckles sliding closer to you if that were even possible, glancing at the pages as you read. "So?"

"For as long as I've been legally allowed to buy these books."

"Hmm."

"Not going to make a big deal of it? Gasp in horror because I 'look so innocent?'" You question peering over at him.

He yawned, leaning his head against your shoulder. "It's as they say." His breath brushes over your ear canal. "It's always the quiet ones." He whispers and you can feel your skin grow hot at how close his mouth was to your ear.

You almost ask him about the paperwork he'd abandoned but you can already hear his breath even out. Small snores fluttering off his lips. He was Heizou after all. He'd most likely be fine.

-

Kazuha ~ Yeah.. he's not surprised in the slightest or perhaps it's simply because Kazuha's a roll with the punches kind of guy.

He takes a look at the cover of your book and a small smile forms against his lips. "Oh is that, Beauty and all things?"

You snap your head up, "You know this book?"

"A couple of women and men amongst Beidou's crew have been conversing over this novel. I was hoping to see what all the fuss is about."

You slide over patting the empty space on the crate you were resting on, "You can read along a bit. Don't worry I'm not that far in."

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting?" He questions but he does take the spot next to you.

You politely shake your head, "I wouldn't have invited you to sit if you were." You reposition to allow him to keep up with you.

"Thank you." He replies

You wait for his cues to flip the page. Normally a small tap at your thigh or a brief ok but after a while they stop coming.

"Kazuha? Is it ok for me to go to the next page?" He doesn't answer. You flip your head around pleasantly surprised by the soft pink tint of his cheeks and the way his eyes were slightly blown. His hand atop his mouth. "Kazuha?" You blink

"I didn't.. didn't realize it was a more explicit read.." He calmed enough to make eye contact with the clouds above. "Though that makes a fair bit more sense."

"Sorry Kazu, I thought you knew.. Have you never read anything like this before?"

He hangs his head a bit, fingering the bandages on his hands. "It's not the book.. persay.." He clears his throat. "Actually.. it's being with you.. while reading said book.."

"Oh.." Your blood might as well have drained out through your feet with how weightless you felt. "Oh." You repeated and then immediately yanked your head away. Breath catching, you slammed the book shut trying your hardest to think of any words aside from 'oh'

"Name.."

"Yeah?" You refuse to look at him.

"Would you like to accompany me to dinner once we dock?"

"Yes.."

"Ok.. thank you.." You feel his weight lift from beside you and when you finally got the courage to look up he was nowhere in sight.

-

Scaramouche ~ He'd just walked in and wordlessly laid his head on your shoulder. Well.. "laid" more like slammed his head into your shoulder without warning. Luckily he wasn't wearing his gigantic hat or it would've been worse.

You're quickly under the assumption that he's fallen asleep based on the slowing of his breaths and how quiet he was. You flipped the page becoming so drawn into the changing events that you nearly leap out of your skin at Scara's-

"What the fuck?"

"How long have you been awake?!"

"What the fuck are you reading??" He sits up pulling the cover over your finger so he could read the title. "How did they go from eating dinner to her tied to the bed post?" He looks at you in sheer disbelief. Mouth hung open and eyes narrowed.

A couple different explanations start to cloud your brain but when you open your mouth the only sound that exits is a long snort. Your breaths uneven as you roll with laughter. Sliding your hand out to keep yourself from falling off the ottoman.

"You're such a freaky weirdo." He stands and you almost get a word out but just end up squeaking and holding your stomach. Your feet slapping against the floor, the book soon flopping onto the hardwood next to you. "Absolute weirdo.." Scara huffs shaking his head, leaving you and your sobbing ribs alone.

"Scara.. pfft.. I can explain.." You call after him.

-

Venti ~ "What are you reading?"

You feel your skin melt as you look up from your comfortable sitting position on the grass. Up to Venti's softly smiling face. He tilts his head a bit still waiting for you to respond but in all honesty the only thing you can do is silently clamp and unclamp your jaw open and close.

"Oh, a secret then? Fine don't tell me." He slowly tiptoes his way to your side trying his hardest to glimpse the pages but you're watching him through the corners of your eye. Eventually he ends up on your opposite side diving to see when you remove your hand, like some kind of bird of prey.

"Venti!" You hiss. Turning the book over to the back thankful for the wordless back cover.

"Is it that bad? Is it a paranoia ridden post apocalypse? Or a horror suspense with a horrendous real life history that the author took inspiration from?" He crosses his arms still stood behind you.

You simply sigh staring down at the crinkled pages from where your finger had creased your bookmarked spot. "Just.. don't laugh at me or anything.." You flip the book open for Venti to read over your shoulder. Pleasantly surprised by how quiet he becomes.

"Oh ho ho." Venti sneers sliding a hand under the words he was currently reading. Probably knowing you'd slam the book closed if he didn't. "So a more explicit read."

Your shock was probably incredibly visible as he plops down at your side. Holding your shoulder for proper balance. "Aww don't be embarrassed, lots of people enjoy books of this nature. This market has a huge following after all."

You feel your face start to heat as you take in just how close he is. His fingers continuing to graze the pages before him. It quickly intrigued you how fast he was sifting through the sentences until a different thought dawned on you.

"Wait.. Venti-"

"Hmm?"

"How do you know these kinds of books have a lot of fans?"

"Ehe hehe, so did you happen to get this copy from Lisa or Yae?"

-

Xiao ~ He sat next to you wordlessly chomping down a bowl of almond tofu while you flipped through the pages of your book. When you'd peered up at him he appeared to be lost in thought. Eyes trained off the balcony to the surrounding area, lost in the beauty of it all.

You carefully flipped the page beginning to get enthralled with the scene playing out in your head as words from the page filled your mind. Until-

"Why are you smiling like that?"

You wrenched your head up. Staring back at a very puzzled Xiao, "Ah.. this book.. it's interesting.." You explain blinking rapidly.

"What are the contents?"

A part of you wants to know exactly when Xiao had stopped paying attention to the view and started paying attention to you. Another was skimming through ways to distract Xiao from learning about the book you'd been rereading. It was Xiao after all.. surely he'd find this kind of content disgusting and deplorable. Actually was it even ok to show him something like this? He was an adeptus, was there some kind of secret law that stated showing books like these to adepti could have you murdered at the stake?

"Name?"

Inevitably you couldn't think of anything strong enough to take his mind off your book. Well.. anything strong enough that wouldn't also make him never speak to you again. You slide the book towards him with the page you'd been reading open for his perusal.

He sifts through the content for a brief second and you slowly watch as his face turns a deeper shade of red with each passing second. He sucks in a breath and before you can break the silence he asks, "You.. do you read these often?.." He coughs like he's clearing his throat.

"Yeah.. every now and then.."

"Hmm." He doesn't say much else for the rest of the night or even to you the next day when he leaves for patrol. For a brief moment you're worried he's still extremely uncomfortable over your reading choices.

You head out for the day as well doing your normal errands and while you're on your way back the thoughts about his face and how flushed he'd been started to dawn on you again. He didn't seem uneasy because of you, just the content itself.. maybe it had been a bad idea to show that kind of content to him. He'd probably never seen anything like that before either.

You let out a little sigh, you'd reached a conclusion as you climbed into the elevator. You could easily just explain everything, maybe even what your enjoyment of the book meant to you and everything should be ok.

You feel a small sense of dread settle in the pit of your stomach. Every step up from the lobby heavier than the last. You took a final deep breath as you reached his door, turning the knob and nearly dropping your bags when you walked in. Xiao sat cross-legged atop his normally empty bed, the book you'd been reading yesterday plucked between his fingers. Your stomach quickly settled as you walked your way towards the bed plopping down on the edge, only getting his attention once your weight settled on the firm mattress.

"Your book.. it's.." He grumbles darting his eyes away. You can't help your breathless snicker.

"I assumed you didn't like that I was reading it." Your fingers brushed aside strands of hair from his forehead.

"I have no qualms over your desires to continue indulging in this. I simply wished to better understand."

"Mm but you hate it."

"I do not wish to continue reading it, yes."

[lovebugism]

"get up, you're snoring and i can't hear the movie." "then turn it up..." "so you can yell at me for waking you up? no!" "you woke me up anyway!" THIS is so Eddie coded

anon, you're so right. this IS so eddie coded. hope you like it!! — the one where eddie wants to spend time with you, even when he's so so tired (fluff, miscommunication, established relationship, 1.3k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Empire Strikes Back plays on the tiny television across the room, blurry through static and mostly unwatched.

The swelling score fills the small living room as Han Solo weaves through an active asteroid field. Green lasers from enemy TIE fighters light up the dark room in varying shades of vivid neon. The only source of light in the whole trailer comes from the glowing television screen. 

As the smuggler leads the Millennium Flacon to safety on a foreign planet, Harrison Ford mumbles beneath his breath — “Yeah, that’ll do nicely.” You’re forced to imagine the deep baritone of the man’s honeyed voice with Eddie snoring through the entire scene.

The Munson boy was known for being a loudmouth every other hour of the day, so it only made sense that he couldn’t stay quiet in his sleep. You never minded it, though. You found it quite endearing, actually. Though maybe not when his heavy breaths are billowing directly in your ear.

Eddie was the one who wanted to have a movie night, after all. Between your studies and his shifts at the car shop, the two of you were lucky to have a day to yourselves. This night together was the first one you’ve had without interruption in a week. 

Well, it was supposed to be, anyway.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Princess Leia frets as Eddie breathes in a soft snore. 

With the way he’s holding you — his arm thrown over your middle, pressing you intently to his chest so the two of you could fit on the small couch — his warm exhale fans across the shell of your ear. He nuzzles his nose against the skin there, taunting you with his cuteness.

Adorable, and so unaware.

“Yeah, me too—” Han quips, though it’s drowned out by a louder snore.

Tired and half-annoyed, you elbow the boy in the ribs — gently until he starts to stir. 

He groans and holds you tighter. You can imagine his scrunched features halfway hidden beneath his wild, curly hair. “Hm… What is it?” he grumbles in an inaudible slur. 

“You’re snoring,” you grouse with a dramatic pout furrowing your brows. “I can’t hear the movie.”

Eddie huffs. He’s almost as annoyed as you are now, displeased that you woke him up just to tell him that. His limbs grow heavy with sleep all over again. He hugs you tighter to him and smells your floral body wash when he buries his face against the side of yours. 

The ends of his hair tickle your neck. You fight back a shiver.

“Just turn it up,” he mumbles.

“So you can yell at me for waking you up?” you retort in a scoff.

Eddie exhales a faint laugh into your ear. It’s a much prettier sound than his semi-aggressive snores. “You woke me up anyway!”

“Because I can’t hear the stupid movie— the movie that you wanted to watch, by the way.”

You expect him to meet your quip with one of his own. Like he always does. Your relationship was practically built on petty banter and accompanied kisses. So when he responds with a strangely sincere apology, you’re quite visibly perplexed.

“I’m sorry, babe, I just…” he cuts himself off with yawn — a big one that squints his eyes and takes several long moments to get out. You feel his chest deflate with the heavy exhale. “…I’m just tired. I had to cover for Wayne and ended up working, like, twelve hours. I’m pretty sure my arms are made of jello now.”

He laughs his exhaustion off while you melt for him.

You grow suddenly heavy with a mixture of adoration and guilt. With pinched-together brows, you twist on the cushion until you’re on your back and staring up at the sleepy boy.

Half of his face is shadowed by the night, while the other half glows with the flickering scenes from the fuzzy television. 

As you expected, his hair is wild and his eyes are heavy and his cheeks are puffy with sleep. The day had certainly done a number on your pretty boy.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, much softer than you’d been just moments before.

He shrugs one shoulder with jutted pink lips, jostling you softly. Despite his fatigue, his chocolate eyes sparkle down at you.

“‘Cause it was my idea. And you were super excited about it… And also I thought I could stay awake,” he rambles, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. “I think I might’ve been wrong about that one.”

You twist on the cushions again, facing him more and melting with him effortlessly. He slides one arm behind your head and clutches your thigh with the other when you swing it over his hip. His gaze flits between yours as a smile pulls at your lips. 

“You were very, very wrong, Eddie Munson,” you lilt and smooth the palm of your hand over his jaw. “Here I thought, you were just getting bored of me.”

He snorts a bitter laugh, unamused by your silly half-joke. “Never,” he assures right before closing the short distance between you and pressing his lips to yours. 

He tastes like buttered popcorn, sweet soda, and much needed sleep.

It’s a languid peck — innocent and unwavering. A slotting of his mouth with yours and a lingering there for several moments.

When he pulls away from you, you mutter, “Do you want me to leave?”

His chin jerks back as though you’d just said something so inane that he can't help but be shocked by it. His dark eyes go wide accordingly, face lighting up in flickering shades of white and blue from the television screen. 

“Why would you even ask me that?” he wonders, taking full offense to your harmless inquiry.

“‘Cause you’re tired,” you answer with a quiet laugh. “And I want you to sleep.”

“I can sleep just fine right here.”

“No, you can’t! I’ll fall off the edge!”

“Not like this, you can’t—” he assures before maneuvering you all over again. 

He keeps his firm hold on you as he wriggles on the couch cushions. He twists until he’s lying on his back and his head is propped up on the arm of the sofa.

You’re lying on top of him completely, legs slotted between both of his, torso pressed intently against his own, and forearms above his shoulders to hold yourself up.

He exhales sharply through his nose when he finally settles, beaming up at you right after. He's visibly tired but looks like sunshine anyway. He’s too in love with you not to wear it all over his face.

“See? Is this perfect or what?”

“I’ll crush you,” you answer with a laugh, knowing if you rested your full weight on him, he’d have a much harder time being so comfortable.

“What a sweet, sweet way to go,” Eddie singsongs in a whimsical sigh.

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggle, shaking your head down at him. 

You brush the tip of your nose over the bridge of his for a moment before kissing him again. It’s deeper than the peck from before, but no less innocuous — lips clicking sweetly when you part from him.

You huff and wedge yourself between his side and the couch cushion so you can relax without halfway suffocating him.

You hold him like a teddy bear while he slides an arm over your back, curling his free one behind his head in a makeshift pillow. He tilts his chin downward and smiles when he watches you smush your cheek against his chest.

“Tired?” he hums quietly to you.

You shake your head in response even though your bones ache with the sort of exhaustion only a college student could know. Your eyelids grow suddenly heavy. Blinking becomes a chore.

“No,” you answer. Your words come out slurred in a terribly hidden yawn. “Are you?”

He shakes his head, slow and lazy. His eyes flutter shut a second later. Yours aren’t open to see it, anyway.

“Nope,” he says, popping the p.

Neither of you is entirely sure who fell asleep first — only that the movie played on without you that night.

You’ll spend breakfast bickering about who stayed awake the longest, between bowls of cereal and morning kisses alike.

[deathblacksmoke]

Folio thing to cure my writer's block, anyone?

@sitkowski requested "Just one kiss, that's all I'm asking for." with our dearest Foli. here you go, sweet friend <3

cw: mentions of alcohol consumption & marijuana use, sweet obnoxious intoxicated boyfriend, the world's fluffiest thing maybe

It’s always a toss up, never quite knowing what you’ll get when Nick comes home from a guys’ night.

Sometimes it’s early in the small hours of the morning and he’s a little tipsy, tip-toeing into the bedroom to crawl into bed, press himself against your back, and pass out quickly. Other times it’s long after you’ve gone to sleep, having assumed he was staying the night at someone’s place for the night, when he’s crashing through the door, stumbling around and looking for something.

Tonight, you’re graced with the appearance of the latter.

You’re startled awake by the sound of the door slamming open and your gaze shifts to the clock on the bedside. 3:38 am. You hear the door close softly, the squeaking of his sneakers on the hardwood, and a loud thud, followed by his characteristic cackling laughter.

As is always the case with Nick, the annoyance seeps out of your bones the moment it presents itself. You’re happy he’s home and he’s safe, regardless of the lack of consideration his intoxicated state has afforded you both. You climb out of bed and pad down the stairs to greet him.

You find him in the kitchen, rummaging loudly and seemingly aimless through the fridge, just the same as always. He perks up when he hears you enter the room, greeting you with his big, pretty smile. As if he just had a moment to think about the time, his expression falls sweetly.

“I woke you, ‘m sorry,” he mumbles, his words garbled as he ducks back into the fridge. You sidle up behind him, wrapping an arm around his middle as you pull him back and close the refrigerator door.

“It’s okay, Nicky,” you assure him, pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. “How drunk are you?”

“I only had two beers,” he’s quick to respond, an answer you don’t quite believe, judging by the state he’s currently in. “Nick brought edibles.”

That explains that.

"Let's get you into bed, honey," you offer, already leading him out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. You hear him huff, feel his deep breath beneath your palms, but he lets himself be steered.

He's docile as you sit him on the edge of the bed and pull his shirt over his head, undress him down to his boxers and lie him down. He's already starting to doze, his eyelids heavy and fluttering.

He whines softly about being hungry, but you remind yourself of the last time you let him have a late night snack when he was this high and out of it — a vision of him in the recovery position on the bathroom floor.

"We can get a big breakfast in the morning," you offer him instead, and the smile that plasters itself across his face as his eyes begin to close heats your cheeks. "I'll go grab you a glass of water, my love."

He reaches out for you pitifully as you get up, even as he's nearly falling asleep. "You haven't given me a kiss yet."

You laugh softly as you detach yourself from him, gazing fondly down at him.

"Just one kiss, that's all I'm asking for," he whines.

Still never one to deny him, you lean down to place a gentle kiss on his lips before padding out of the room.

By the time you return with Advil and a glass of water for him, he's already asleep and snoring softly. You crawl in happily behind him, pulling him close to your chest, hoping he's in the mood to sleep in after disturbing your sleep.

You're sure he'll be up in a few hours, whining and begging to take you for breakfast. You'll do it without much of a complaint, as always.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Nightlife 22

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, touching, coercion, manipulation, violence. Proceed with caution.

Note: I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you doing this? Well, you wanted bouncer Lee and I did too. Also, short!reader, not sorry.

Part of The Club AU

You wake in a sheen of sweat. You can’t remember your dreams but you don’t think that’s the reason. The man beside you, nearly on top of you, has you boiling in your own skin. Lee’s arm is draped over your middle as he nuzzles your shoulder, breath scalding over you as he snores. 

You tingle as the dregs of sleep wash away. The night before sticks in your mind. The same heat that speckles you now reminds you of that which chased you into your sleep. His fingertips, his tongue, his words... He bowls right through every doubt. 

You shift and free your arm from beneath the blankets, trying to cool yourself as you stare up at the ceiling. His low rumble peters out and he presses his lips to your shoulder. He kisses you gently and rubs your stomach, your tank top rolled up to your chest as your panties are somewhere forgotten on the floor. 

“Mornin’, sugar,” he growls as he fondles your tit, “you sleep okay?” 

“Yes, sir,” you answer as you lay stiff as a board. 

“Mmm, how’s about some coffee, huh?” 

“Yes, sir,” you push yourself up on your elbows. You’re overly cautious as you sit up as his touch falls away. 

“Honey... call me honey,” he rolls onto his back and groans, “we’re gon’ be married soon, ain’t we?” 

“Yes... honey,” you make yourself say it aloud. You turn and stand, covering your bottom as you search for your underwear. 

“You’re cute, tryna hide,” he chuckles, “you got the sweetest little rear.” 

You giggle nervously and find the panties. You pull them on quickly and stand straight. There’s no modesty to be had, even if you cling to it. Your nipple point pertly against the white fabric and you don’t miss his leer at your chest. 

“Gonna have to get movin’ soon,” he stretches his arms wide. 

“Moving?” You wonder as you hover by the door. 

“Gonna pick up your dress from the seller on our way,” he explains through a grunt, “then we’re head down to ma’s.” 

“What?” You blink in confusion. 

“Can’t be married all the way up here. Nah, ma would never have it. She’s got everyone comin’ down and she’s readyin’ a nice little arch for us to make our vows beneath. Local preacher says he can come out---” 

“What?” You repeat again. 

“Well, why’re you actin’ so stupid for? We agreed we gon’ get married. Can’t get married without family and...” he sits up and inhales deeply, “you don’t got none, do ya?” 

You wince and hug yourself, “Lee...” 

“Well, it’s that truth but I don’t say that in a mean way. I’m sayin’ you’re gonna have a whole new family and you best get to know ‘em,” he turns his legs over the edge of the bed. You can see his erection jutting up from between his legs. “Ma’s real excited to meet ya. Pa too but he ain’t the sort to say.” 

He stands and yawns, raising his arms up into another stretch. His dick is rigid and bobbing. He peeks over and winks as he wiggles his hips. 

“Get to that coffee before I get the mind to wake myself up another way,” he snarls. 

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin and hurry out. You hear his huff as you do. 

In the kitchen, you put the coffee on. It still feels so strange. You’re barely settled in this place and he’s already talking about you meeting his family. You sway and wring your hands as you think. You’re supposed to be starting a new semester soon, not getting married. Well, you flunked out. You’re a loser. 

You sit down at the table and hold your head. You’re sad. Everything’s changed so much. You don’t know that it was any better before but you were okay. You were just getting through it and eventually you’d find your way. Now everything is so final. 

‘Mew’. The squeaky noise draws you out of your self-pity. You lean over to look at Hickory as he scratches at the leg of the chair. You smile and reach down to scoop him up. 

“Hey, buddy,” you pet his head as he bats at your hand. Wait, what are you going to do with him when you’re gone?  

You can’t help a little laugh as he bares his teeth, as if he’s a fierce lion. You play with him a little longer before your dread gets the worst of you. You put him down and he rubs himself against your ankles. 

You stand up, carefully not to step on him, and go back to the bedroom. You can hear Lee before you enter but you realise too late what’s going on. He hunches over as he sits on the edge of the bed, pumping himself as he grunts and pants. His body tenses as he keeps his eyes squeezed shut and gnashes his teeth around your name. 

You leave, careful not to make a noise, and keep Hickory from running past you. You carry the cat into the kitchen, cradling him on a shoulder as you pour a mug of coffee. You set it aside in wait of Lee and set the cat on the tile. 

You take out eggs and bacon. It sounds like it will be a busy day. That helps, to keep yourself busy. 

When Lee emerges, you try not to squirm. You’re not sure if he knew you caught him but you don’t dare mention it. He takes his coffee and tastes it. 

“Three sugar, like I like,” he praises and comes over to kiss you, a hand on your hip as he smushes his lips to your cheek, “you’re so good to me, blossom.” 

You smile and keep on laying out strips of bacon on the pan. He taps your ass before he backs off. He pauses to bends and scratch Hickory’s ears before he goes to the table. The chair creaks with his weight. 

“So we’ll eat, get cleaned up and packed, and then we’ll hit the road, huh? Exciting. Our first couples’ trip.” 

“Oh, yeah, sounds good,” you utter, “um, Lee, back about... Hickory?” 

“He’ll come along,” he grins as he pokes the cat with his toe. “Be like having a little kid along with us, eh? One day, right, flower? Imagine that, you all big and such with my baby.” 

You drop a strip on the floor and blanch. You look at Lee in shock. The very suggestion of that has you rattled. 

“What?” 

“Well, course, once we’re past the newlywed stage, we’ll be looking to have a real family,” he shrugs, “you’re gonna be a good mama.” 

“But I... I’m still... young?” 

“Now, you are but time goes fast, give it a year and you’ll be begging for me to put a baby in ya,” he chortles, “mm,” he shifts and tugs on the band of his underwear, “now, I like that thought.” 

You gulp and clean up the spoiled piece of bacon. You’re quiet as you don’t want to upset him. Kids? You never saw yourself with any. You don’t know where you expected to end up but that was never part of the vague future awaiting you. 

“How do you want your eggs?” You croak as you swallow down trepidation. 

He sucks his teeth before he answers. You refuse to look at him. If you do, he’ll see right through you. 

“Sunny side up, I think,” he growls, “it’s gonna be a good day, ain’t it?”