#but I think it would have been a slow process over about two weeks

[seagull-scribbles]

Safe from the world, though the world will try…

So breath, breath with me~

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 YOU'VE BEGUN TO FEEL LIKE HOME

FEATURING: pm!dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai is not as slick as he thinks he is, and you let him get away with way too much. OR, dazai realizes the only place he feels comfortable enough to sleep is at your side, but god forbid he vocalizes that.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: i'm on another pm!reader & dazai kick LOL, prepare for an influx of fics about them. i'm starting with this one because it's softer, the classic sharing a bed fic & u guys deserve some lightness after uu6 (warnings: fem!reader, nothing else really, this is light-hearted as promised)

Dazai doesn’t think you notice when he sneaks into your room at night.

To be fair, you don’t think you noticed the first few times. He’s very careful to make sure you’re still sleeping when he lets the door crack open so he can slip in. He shifts the blinds around just enough so that when he lays down and the sun starts to rise, it’ll hit him right in the eye, waking him up before you, so he can slip out unnoticed.

But he messed up two weeks ago. Or, well, it wasn’t really his fault. The hinges of your door creaked just a bit too loudly when he pushed it open, stirring you from your sleep, but he was evidently too tired to even notice. Your first reaction was obviously to tell him to get the fuck out, irate that he’d woken you up, but you found yourself hesitating as he began his swift and efficient process of setting up your room so he can lay there with you to get some rest and disappear before you wake up. 

He slept above the covers on the edge of the bed, careful to keep space between the two of you—whether it was because he didn’t want to risk waking you up, or if he just didn’t want to touch you, you didn’t know, but you think it’s the former from the way you’ve noticed his body unconsciously trying to seek you out at night, only for him to startle awake and immediately move away.

You told yourself that you would address it the next morning—ask him what the fuck he was thinking sneaking into your bedroom—but you faltered when you saw how refreshed he was in the morning, bouncing around your apartment, the perpetual bags beneath his eyes mostly faded. You put together then how long he’s been doing this: three weeks, at least. You’d been wondering why he was suddenly so energetic some days, but it was easy to figure out that those days are the ones that he slips into your room to sleep.

You’d known for a while that Dazai doesn’t sleep well. Spends most nights wandering around your apartment looking for things to do if he doesn’t have missions; he only ever does sleep when he’s so drunk that he ends up passing out on your kitchen floor or he’s so tired that he physically can’t keep his eyes open any longer. You’d always wondered if it was because he can’t sleep or if it was because he doesn’t want to sleep, plagued with nightmares, memories whenever he closes his eyes.

So you let it continue—it doesn’t really bother you, he’s always careful to not disturb you and you figure that it’s better he gets at least some decent sleep so he doesn’t get himself killed on a mission because he’s depriving himself of it.

It’s not until a few weeks later that he realizes that you know. You’re half asleep when he tries to sneak into your room, barely conscious; you don’t remember to pretend to be asleep.

The door creaks open and shuts and you instinctively roll over, shifting up onto your elbows and squinting, eyes focusing on Dazai’s figure shrouded by the darkness, halfway across your room to your window. He freezes as soon as he realizes you’re awake. 

“Dazai?” you ask quietly, voice a bit rough with sleep, mind moving a bit slow as you try to piece together what’s going on..

“I-” he starts to say—for a second, he’s caught off guard, fumbling for some sort of excuse. But Dazai is Dazai, so he recovers quickly. “Oh good, you’re awake. You see, I was trying to-”

“Shut up,” you murmur, laying back down and pulling the covers back, realizing what he’s here for. “Lay down.” 

Dazai doesn’t budge. “What?” he breathes out, caught off-guard and clearly exhausted. You can see the dark bags beneath his eyes—he’s been on a mission for four or five days now, dealing with Mishima out in Tokyo. You figure that he hasn’t gotten any sleep since he left. “What are you talking about?” 

His voice takes a cooler tone after the initial ‘what’, a defense mechanism, and you know Dazai is about to bolt to try to avoid this conversation, but it’s been weeks and you think it's about time. You crack an eye open to scowl at him, noticing the closed off expression on his face and the anxiety thinly veiled behind his dark eye. Before he can make a run for it, you push yourself up. You’re quick and Dazai is exhausted, so it’s easy for you to scramble forward and grab his wrist, wrangling him onto the bed with you.

Dazai kicks and flails, you scowl at him when he messes up your duvet and he bares his teeth at you like a wild animal. You tumble on the mattress with him for a few seconds, he bucks you off of him and nearly onto the ground, you spit a few curses at him—wide awake now—and grab his wrists, pinning them above his head and pressing your knee into his lower back. If Dazai wasn’t half asleep, he’d probably have been able to come out on top but you can feel how tired he is with how sluggish his limbs move and how heavy they are whenever one of them lay on you, as if he can barely hold himself up. 

“What’s your issue?” you demand, biting back a yawn as you glare down at him.

Dazai twists his head to the side, looking at you from the corner of his eye with an indignant expression. “My issue?” he spits out. “You just manhandled me onto your bed. Let go of me.”

“You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a month, Dazai.”

Dazai stills and you watch as his cheeks instantly flame up. His eye is wide as he stares at you from the corner of it. You’d almost think he’s cute if he wasn’t Dazai.

“I have not.”

He lies. He lies. He lies as if you haven’t literally caught him in the act. You stare at him aghast, you thought maybe he’d try to wiggle his way out of it with a ‘no, you’ve misunderstood,’ not a straight up lie. 

“You liar,” you accuse, voice pitched in disbelief. “You just lied right to my face.”

“No, I didn’t.” 

Dazai lies again; his face is even more red now, and you think that’s to show just how exhausted he is because Dazai usually wears countless masks to hide himself from everyone. You think you strip him of one, and there are two more there protecting him—like a goddamn hydra, cut off one head and two more grow back. 

But it seems like catching him in the act tonight, while he’s already tired and half-dead on his feet, was the equivalent of burning the heads of the hydra. His masks are gone and he’s left embarrassed and fumbling. You almost want to laugh, but you’re so incensed by the sheer audacity he has to blatantly lie to your face that you can’t even bring yourself to. 

“You just did it again.”

“I did not.”

“Dazai,” you say exasperated, shifting a bit and he lets out an irritated grunt, tossing you an outraged look as you accidently dig your knee even more into his back. “Stop fucking around. You’ve been coming into my room at night every three days for at least a month.”

Dazai looks mortified.

“You’ve known for a month,” he demands. He wiggles like a worm trying to free himself from your grasp but you double down, pressing your weight down on his back. “You’ve known for a month, and you never said anything. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I’ve known for two and a half weeks,” you correct, “but I figured it was a month or more based on when I started noticing your…mood improvements.”

A gentle way of putting that he doesn’t look like he wants to murder anyone that looks in his direction at any given moment, but Dazai obviously understands what you’re getting at and looks even more humiliated.

You almost feel bad.

Almost.

“It’s not-” Dazai starts to say. He stutters. He stutters. A part of you wishes that you could record this, knowing you’ll never get the chance to see Dazai so caught off guard like this probably ever again. “I don’t-”

“I don’t care, Dazai,” you sigh tiredly. “I don’t mind. It doesn’t bother me. Just stop fucking being a creep about it, Christ.”

“No,” Dazai says, voice raised in pitch and petulant as he turns his face to press it down into your pillow. His words are muffled as he continues, “No. No. It’s ruined now. You’ve ruined it.”

Your eyes slide shut, you sigh. You’re suddenly tired again, you decidedly don’t want to deal with Dazai Osamu’s fickle and capricious nature. Because of that, you let go of him. You shake your head as you move off of him, sitting back down in bed and giving him a chance to flee, like he wanted to begin with.

Dazai does not budge.

At all. 

You stare at him in disbelief. 

Did he fall asleep?

You poke the side of his head and Dazai doesn’t let out a noise of complaint or shift even a centimeter, his shoulders rise and fall slowly and you turn your gaze up to the ceiling, praying for patience.

“You can’t sleep like that,” you say more to yourself than him. “You’re gonna suffocate yourself, you loser.”

You try to push him onto his side, but he startles awake as if he’d only just barely started dozing off. You watch as he jolts, sluggish limbs trying to push himself up, blinking blearily. You think he looks even more mortified when he realizes that as soon as he rested his head down, he immediately started drifting off.

“Dazai, you’re exhausted. Sleep,” you say, amusement dwindling as your brows furrow in concern. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so off-kilter before.

Has he really not slept since he left?

“No,” Dazai says, and even though the exhaustion is clear in his voice, he’s stubborn and trying to push himself up. “I can’t sleep because you had to go ahead and ruin it.”

“I didn’t ruin anything, Dazai,” you say, becoming increasingly more irritated as you lose out on more sleep. You have a meeting with Mori in the morning and you don’t want to head into it half-asleep. “You’ve been sneaking into my bed for a-”

“Stop saying that,” Dazai complains, covering his face with his hands as he sits at the edge of your bed, back turned to you. “It’s not-you’re just selfish.”

You gape. “Excuse me?” you say, even more appalled at this outlandish insult than you were over him lying to your face.

“You’re selfish. You keep the soft blankets and the nice mattress all to yourself. You’re selfish, you leave me with the scraps and then call me a creep for wanting a decent night of sleep,” Dazai says, voice a sulky hiss.

You stare at him—you don’t respond, just stare at the back of his head, willing yourself not to get violent, because there is no way that the boy who has moved himself into your apartment, leeches off your food, shampoos, soaps, and conditioners, has made a home on your couch and in your guest bedroom, who sneaks into your bed without even a small complaint from you, has the nerve to call you selfish.

As if Dazai can feel the rapidly approaching violence coming from you, he turns to look at you over his shoulder, visible eye wide and deceptively sad, head tilted to the side at a demure angle that you know he uses to get what he wants from whatever fool falls for the shitty act. You think he has some nerve trying to use it on you as if you won’t see right through it.

“It’s not fair,” he says. His voice is soft and sweet now, honeyed but you can all but taste the venom of the manipulation in the sweetness. “I just want to sleep too. It’s not fair you get all of the comfortable stuff. You’re making me seem like a creep, but I just want to sleep, and now everything is ruined.”

Therein lies the issue: the mattresses in your bedroom and the guest bedroom are in fact the same, and the sheets are the same brand and style but in different colors. The comfort of the bedroom is not the issue here. So, you choose to play his game.

“Fine,” you agree lightly. “You can take my bedroom. I’ll move into the guest bedroom. Nothing will be ruined anymore. Problem solved.”

“No.”

The sweet expression on his face drops, his gaze sharpens as he stares at you from the corner of his eye. You can barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“No?” 

“No.”

“And why not, exactly?” you ask tightly, the thin smile on your lips strained.

“You’re not allowed in my room,” Dazai says matter-of-factly.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, feeling a headache coming on, the fucking audacity of this boy.

“That is my guest room,” you say slowly. “If I want to go in there-”

“It’s been mine for over a year. It’s mine, and you’re not allowed in, so you have to stay here,” Dazai corrects firmly. “Therefore, everything is still ruined.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No.”

“Why, Dazai?” you ask, becoming frustrated quickly. “What is your fucking issue? Jesus, I’m tired, I-”

“I can’t sleep! I can’t sleep unless you’re yhere and now it’s ruined because you weren’t supposed to know,” Dazai says so suddenly and so loudly that it startles you, and then he looks distressed as if he didn’t mean to say that. “I can’t-I don’t know why-it just happened-I don’t-”

Dazai cuts himself off with a sharp breath when he realizes he can't even talk his way out of the situation, only fumbling over an explanation and making things worse for himself. If he looked embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to how he looks now. His visible eye looks glassy, expression twisted and uneasy. His exhaustion has loosened his tongue too much and now he looks like he wants to rid himself of it entirely. His fingers are curled into fists so tightly that you think his uneven nails must be drawing blood from his palms.

At once, all of the fight left in you disappears.

“I’m going,” Dazai says more to himself than you. “I’m going. I’m just going to go. It doesn’t matter. Forget it.”

You don’t know if by go he means go to ‘his’ room or if he means leave your apartment and hide away in his shipping container for days like he usually does when he’s upset about something. Either way, Dazai is close to dead on his feet—you can see it in the way he sways as he tries to push himself up and you can see it in the way his visible eye droops down, hardly able to hold it open. You don’t think he’d make it to the hall without his legs giving out on him, much less to his shipping container halfway across the city—he’d be easy pickings for the numerous enemies he’s made waiting for a chance like this to finally take him out.

You sigh and before he can get half a step away, you snatch his wrist and tug him right back down into the bed. He shoots you an affronted look.

“Stop manhandling me,” he complains again. “You’re turning into a brute like Chuuya.”

“Shut up,” you say halfheartedly, “and lay down. How is going somewhere else going to solve your sleeping problems? I don’t know how you’re somehow both the dumbest and smartest person I’ve ever met.”

Dazai curls in on himself a bit, and you frown because he’d usually preen and tease you about the compliment, but he only looks unsure now. “It’s ruined-”

“Lay down,” you say, firmer this time, watching as Dazai’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before he averts his attention to the ceiling. He lays down awkwardly, head resting on your pillow; he turns on his side so that his back is to you. He makes no move to pull the covers over him. 

You let yourself roll your eyes now that he’s not looking at you, reaching down to pull the covers over both of you. You hesitate for a second, but then you choose to shift closer to him, resting your head down on the pillow as you wrap your arm loosely around his waist. He stiffens instantly, and you give it a second to see if he relaxes. When he doesn’t, you start to push yourself back away from him but before you can, he grabs your wrist to hold you in place, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he relaxes back against you.

“Nothing is ruined,” you murmur, eyes sliding shut now that you can finally rest. “I told you, I don’t care. Just sleep, Dazai. You need it.”

“... Only for tonight, one last time,” he yawns, unconsciously shifting back closer to you. It’s another blatant lie, but this one only makes you smile fondly.

“Sure,” you agree. “Only for tonight.”

When you wake up in the morning, Dazai is tucked right into your side. You’d shifted at some point during the night to lay onto your back and he’d curled right into you, resting his head on your shoulder and slinging an arm around your waist. Your gaze flickers to the clock on your nightstand and you let out a soft breath when you see that you have thirty minutes before you have to be at the main headquarters for your meeting with Mori but…

Your mouth dries when you glance down at Dazai. His bandaged eye is pressed into your body, but you can see the way his visible one is slid shut, lashes brushing his cheek as he sleeps. His face is so smooth and relaxed, breaths deep and even, peaceful in a way that you never really see of Dazai Osamu. You hadn’t fully closed your blinds before falling asleep last night, and you find yourself entranced by the way Dazai looks underneath the early morning sun, breath hitching as he lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat before shifting closer to you.

Fuck.

You let out a puff of air, eyes sliding shut. There’s no way you’ll be able to slip out of bed without waking him up, and you find that you don’t want to wake him up. Dazai is an irritating little shit, and he makes your life as difficult as he possibly can, but you think you’d be cruel purposely disrupting the little bit of peace in his life that he can have.

(You also think that you never give a shit about cruelty unless Dazai Osamu is somehow involved and the recipient of it, but you instantly dispose of that thought.)

Decision made, you reach for your phone and quickly shoot a text to Mori:

Something came up. Meet later.

And you promptly shut your phone off before settling back in bed with Dazai, arm curling around his waist and head falling to the side so that you can bury your face in his soft brown hair. You notice, as you doze back off, that it smells suspiciously like the expensive vanilla shampoo that you specifically told him not to use, but you’re already too sleepy to make a fuss out of it. 

You’ll bitch about it later, you decide.

(If you can feel him smile against your shoulder as you fall back asleep with him, you ignore it.)

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

hey Darling, would you write smt about Bucky suddenly having a breeding kink mid session but reader doesnt show that she doesnt like it. she is distancing herself the next day and cries when he isnt home and cries when he does that again the next time while they fuck

later she explains that she wants to have a baby and that she doesn't like breeding kink bc it's not real. and they never talked about kids etc. buck is the next one distancing bc he is shocked. but in the end its fluffy and he wants to take that step with her

<33

Want To Have A Baby » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You want to have a baby with Bucky, but you don’t like the idea of him having a breeding kink.

Warnings: some Smut (18+), Fluff, language, crying, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, praise kink, breeding kink, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

The second Bucky walked through the door of the house, he littered your body in hickeys and practically tore your clothes off. He just came home from a week long mission and he’s taking what he’s been wanting all week. As of right now Bucky was hovering over you with your hands pinned above your head and fingers intertwined with yours as he fucked you.

“This is the only thing that has been on my mind for a week.” Bucky says panting.

You nodded and hummed in response. You’ve been wanting this all week too. Your head was thrown back against the pillow, giving Bucky perfect access to your neck to mark you up some more.

“Fuck…” He moans. “You’re gonna look so pretty when I breed you.” He says breathlessly.

You eyes opened wide at what he say. You blinked a couple times, trying to process what he just said. For the moment, you just went with it. You were coming close to your third orgasm of the night.

“Bucky, I-” A moan left your lips before you could tell him that you were going to cum.

“I know you’re close, babydoll. I can feel it.” He says, speeding up his thrusts.

Your legs began to shake against his sides. You were right on the edge. You were sent over the edge when his cock hit your sweet spot one last time. You came, moaning his name loudly. Bucky gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm, which wasn’t too far behind yours. His thrusts got sloppy, but he regained rhythm. He came inside of you soon after. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of his cock. Bucky sat back on his knees for a few seconds, smirking when he seen his cum leaking out of your pussy.

Bucky laid down next to you and pulled you close to him. Both of you laid there panting and sweaty. Bucky moved your hair to the side so he can kiss your shoulder softly.

“You did so well for me, babydoll.” He says softly.

You hummed tiredly in response and snuggled yourself against him. Bucky covered the two of you up with a sheet and shut off the bedside lamp, draping his arm around your waist. You laid there while Bucky fell asleep, thinking to yourself for a few minutes before falling asleep.

The next morning, you woke up to see Bucky getting dressed. He turned around, smiling when he seen that you were awake. He walked over to the bed and leaned over to give you a kiss.

“Last night was amazing.” Bucky says.

You smiled softly and nodded in agreement, trying not to think about his breeding kink.

“You ok, doll?” He says, moving your hair from your face.

“Yea, I’m just a little tired from last night.” You say, lying through your teeth.

“Go back to bed. I’ll see you tonight.” He gave you another kiss. “I love you.” He says.

“I love you too, Bucky.” You say, smiling softly.

You watched him walk out the bedroom door, closing it behind him. You listened for the front door to close before you started crying. Your mind went back to last night. You couldn’t stop thinking about what Bucky said during sex. He wants to breed you. Last night, it didn’t show signs that you didn’t like it. Now, you don’t like it. You weren’t sure if he meant it or not. After a few minutes, you got out of bed and got ready for the day. You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky’s breeding kink all day. You tried your best to push it out of your mind and went on about your day.

You were in the kitchen making dinner when Bucky came home from work. He went to the kitchen, smiling to himself when he see you. He walked up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist from behind and kissed your cheek. You didn’t greet him like you normally do.

“Aren’t you going to greet your man?” Bucky asks, trying to make you laugh.

You didn’t laugh or even smile. You turned your head just enough to kiss his bearded cheek and went back to making dinner. Bucky just assumed that you’re just too focused on making dinner so he didn’t think much of it. He gave you one more kiss on your cheek before going to the living room to watch TV. He knows that you’ll come get him when dinner is ready.

After dinner, Bucky took a shower and you cleaned up the kitchen and washed the dishes. Bucky walks out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel that hung low on his hips and went to the kitchen, knowing that you’re still cleaning up from dinner. He walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist from behind again. You could feel his bulge through the towel.

“The dishes can wait till tomorrow, doll.” Bucky whispers in your ear. “Let’s go to the bedroom.” He says.

You were trying so hard to resist him, but you couldn’t. You know you can’t and so does Bucky. So you finally gave in, turning the water off and turned around to face him. Bucky kissed you hungrily. Your worries of Bucky’s breeding kink washed away in that moment. At least for a little bit.

Bucky grasped the back of your thighs and picked you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He shredded your clothes off of your body the second you two got to the bedroom. You reached a hand down and pulled his towel off.

Bucky slid his cock inside of you the second after your back was on the bed. Your hands found their way to his back, raking your nails down his back and leaving new red line marks on his skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, doll.” Bucky softly kissed just below your ear, knowing how much you love it. “I bet you’d look round with my child.” He says.

A whimper fell from your lips. Bucky took it as a pleasurable whimper. He didn’t have to say the word breed. It was just implied. You didn’t want to ruin the moment so you went with it again.

“Bucky…” You moaned.

“I love it when you moan my name, doll.” He says, almost growling.

Your moans urged him on. For the rest of the night, you tried your best to not let his breeding kink bother you.

The next day, you got to thinking. You want to take the next step in your relationship with Bucky. You want to have a baby with him. Or babies you should say. You weren’t sure on how to tell him. You and Bucky have never talked about having kids. It’s something you really want with him and you hope he feels the same way about it. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the door open and close when Bucky came home.

“Doll, I’m home!” Bucky announces. “Are you home?” He asks.

Bucky frowns when you didn’t greet him at the door or answer him. He looked all over the apartment for you. He finally found you in the bedroom, lost in your thoughts.

“Doll?” Bucky says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You blinked a couple times, realizing that Bucky is home. You leaned up and gave him a small kiss on his lips.

“You looked like you were off in space when I walked in here.” He said as he took off his jacket. “Do you want to tell me what you were thinking about?” He asks, sitting on the bed in front of you.

You looked down at your lap, nervously playing with your fingers. Bucky put his hands on yours, getting you to look up at him.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” He says with an assuring smile.

You gave him a smile and took a deep breath before saying anything. You decided to be straightforward with it.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I hope you feel the same way as me about it.” You started. “I know we haven’t talked about it at all and-” You were cut off when Bucky’s hand gently caressed your cheek.

“Babydoll, you’re rambling.” He tells you. “Just say it.” He says softly.

“I want to have a baby with you.” You blurted out. “I want to do it the right way. Not with your breeding kink.” You say.

Silence filled the bedroom and Bucky’s eyes went wide. Bucky didn’t know what to think. You sat there nervously and waited for him to say something.

“Bucky?” Your voice sounded nervous. “I want to have a baby with you.” You say again.

“I-I know. I heard you.” Bucky says.

Bucky put your hands back on your lap and stood up, walking to the bathroom to take a shower. You watched him closed the bathroom door behind him. A sad whimper left your lips, thinking you just screwed up everything with Bucky. Your eyes teared up. You sniffled and laid down, facing away from the bathroom door. You covered your mouth with a blanket to muffle your whimpers so Bucky’s enhanced hearing didn’t pick up the sound of them.

Bucky stood in the shower, water cascading down his body. The words “I want to have a baby with you.” was the only thing on his mind. He still didn’t know what to think. He closed his eyes and shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face. He sighed loudly before cleaning himself up.

When Bucky walked out of the bathroom, he seen you facing the opposite direction. He sighs softly, thinking he hurt your feelings by not saying anything after you confessed that you want to have a baby with him. He got ready for bed and laid down next to you, staring up at the ceiling for a while before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, Bucky woke up, quickly noticing that you’re not in bed. That’s when he smelled coffee coming from the kitchen. Bucky got out of bed and got ready for work. He walked out of the bedroom and went to the kitchen, hoping you were in the kitchen and you were. He walked in the kitchen at the same time you were pouring coffee in a travel mug for him. You handed it to him without saying a word. As he was about to leave for work, you stopped him by grabbing him wrist. He looked down at your hand and then looked at your face. You stood up on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss on his cheek as a way of saying have a good day at work. Bucky gave you a small before leaving for work.

Bucky was distracted at work. He stared off at a wall during a meeting, lightly tapping his fingers against the table and bouncing his leg. The words “I want to have a baby with you.” echoed in his head. He was so distracted that he didn’t even feel Steve tap on his shoulder. He felt it the second time. He stopped tapping his fingers on the table and stopped bouncing his leg, turning his attention to his best friend.

“Are you ok?” Steve whispered.

Bucky nodded his head yes before turning his attention back to the meeting, getting quickly distracted again. He didn’t listen to a single word that was said in the meeting due to him being distracted. After the meeting, Bucky walked out of the conference room to go to the gym. Steve seen him walking down the hall and caught up with him.

“What’s got you all distracted today?” Steve asks.

“What means you think I’m distracted?” Bucky asks.

“You were staring a the wall, tapping your fingers against the table, and bouncing your leg during the meeting.” Steve points out. “I’ve known you for a long time and I know when something’s on your mind. Tell me what it is.” He says.

Bucky sighed, knowing that he’s not going to get out of this easily without telling Steve what’s on his mind so he might as well tell him.

“Last night, Y/N told me she wants to have a baby with me.” Bucky tells him.

“Wow. I bet that came as a shock.” Steve says.

“I still am shocked.” He says.

“Is she pregnant?” He asks.

“No.” He answers and then frowned. “At least I don’t think she is.” He says.

“Do you want to have a baby with her?” Steve asks.

“I-I- of course I do. We’ve never talked about having kids.” Bucky says with a stutter.

“Then that’s what you should tell her.” He said. “The Bucky I know would love to settle down and have a family. I know that guy is still in there somewhere.” He says, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at his best friend. Steve is right. The guy who wants to settle down and have a family is still in him.

“You’re right, man.” Bucky smiles. “I should tell her. In fact, I’m going to do that right now.” He says.

“Let me know how it goes.” Steve says, patting his shoulder.

Bucky left the Avengers Compound and went home. He stopped at a floral shop and bought your favorite bouquet of flowers before going home.

You were finishing up notes for work in the dining room when Bucky came home. You looked up and put your pen down when Bucky walked in the dining room. You looked from him to the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

“You got my favorite bouquet of flowers.” You pointed out, still looking at the bouquet.

“They’re for you.” Bucky says like a nervous teenage boy, handing them to you.

You took the bouquet from his hand and admired the flowers. Bucky took his jacket off and put it on the back of the chair and sat down in the chair next to you.

“I want to talk about what you said last night.” He says.

You felt yourself get nervous quickly. Your heart pounded in your chest, waiting for him to continue.

“I thought about it- actually I talked to Steve and he-” Bucky was cut off when you put a hand on his arm.

“Baby, you’re rambling.” You repeated his words from last night.

Bucky nervously chuckled.

“What I’m trying to say is that I would love to have a baby with you.” He says.

“You do?” You asked.

“Of course I do.” He smiles widely. “The guy who wants to settle down and have a family is still in me.” He tells you. “I found the most beautiful woman in the world and I want nothing more than to have a baby with you.” He says.

A huge smile grew on your face. You leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. Bucky’s hand caressed your cheek.

“I love you so much, baby.” You say in almost a whisper.

“I love you more, doll.” Bucky softly said. “How about we start making a baby?” He suggests.

“You read my mind, babe.” You whispered, looking in his beautiful blue eyes.

Bucky took the bouquet of flowers from your hands and put them on the table. He stood up and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder, making you squeal in excitement. You and Bucky went straight to the bedroom and started to make a baby right away.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Three- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, Manipulation, Gagging, Spitting, DubCon, CNC.

**here’s: one, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen & twenty.

As you approached the door of the familiar private classroom, a subtle sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your confidence.

Admittedly you got lost in the depths of your homework after dinner, becoming absorbed in the swirls of ink on your parchment, diligently crafting your Astronomy essay due in a mere three weeks from now. The minutes seemingly slipped away, and you realized you were running late for today's tutoring session, the devastating consequence of your intense focus on your academic obligations.

However, considering Mattheo's habitual tardiness--one of which he has mastered as well as any given art form--you assumed your delay wouldn't be at all consequential, and would most likely even go unnoticed. So without really thinking twice about it, you gently pushed open the door, expecting the room to be empty, the usual silence welcoming you as you stepped inside.

But then, to your astonishment, the room was not vacant. There he was, Mattheo Riddle, perched on the chair with an air of casual authority. His long legs were stretched out before him, feet confidently resting on the desk's edge, displaying a newfound confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. His arms were folded, his posture exuding an almost predatory assurance. His eyes, dark as the night and twice as intense, followed your every move as you stepped inside. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the weight of his gaze pressing upon you.

You closed the door with a deliberate slowness, the soft click echoing through the room like a gunshot in the silence, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently challenging you.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." He taunted, his voice laced with a poisonous charm. The room seemed to shrink in the wake of his suffocating arrogance. "Guess Ravenclaws little good girl isn't so perfect after all...who would have guessed."

You rolled your eyes, a flush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you awkwardly dropped your gaze to the floor. The weight of being late for the first time in your life was almost palpable, but you made an effort to play it off, attempting to regain your composure despite the lingering discomfort.

"Save the mind games for someone who's willing to play, Riddle," you said, slowly making your way toward him. "You have no right to talk, you're late every single week."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who turns into a sobbing mess over a less-than-perfect grade," Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "I don't have mental breakdowns just because I'm not the class's golden child in everything, and I'm definitely not the one who's about to graduate in merely a few months while still a fucking virgin-"

Your jaw dropped in astonishment at his audacity, a surge of indignation propelling you to slam your bag down on the desk in front of him. The force of your action knocked his feet off the desk, abruptly interrupting whatever sentence he had intended to finish, leaving him silenced in disbelief.

"At least I'm going to fucking graduate without needing someone to hold my hand like a child." You hissed, the words slipping past your teeth before you even had a chance to process them. "For someone who needs me so much, you sure don't act like you appreciate my help."

Mattheo's eyes darkened, a storm of arrogance and anger swirling in their depths, transforming his usual stoic demeanor into a deep scowl etched across his face. He rose from his seat, his tall frame looming over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.

"You think I need you, Raven?" He purred, wetting his lips. "You really think that?"

You steeled your jaw, strengthening your stance, ignoring the fact that your fingers were trembling like leaves in the autumn wind.

"Where would you be without me, Riddle?" You whispered, kinking your neck back to catch his dark, hungry eyes. "How many tutors did you have before me? How many other students tried to help you but couldn't stand your arrogant, no-fucks-given attitude, hm?"

Your words draped the air with a palpable gravity, silencing Mattheo completely--an unprecedented reaction, given his usual quick retorts. The revelation ignited a fierce ember within you, fueling your resolve and lending a sharp edge to your words, as if each syllable carried the weight of your determination.

"That's what I thought..." your voice was low, reverberating as a mere whisper in the air, something flickering behind Mattheo's eyes that made your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "You know that without me, you'd be here forever...maybe you've managed to manipulate me into being your little toy, but that doesn't change the truth about this whole thing...you need me, Riddle, you fucking need me..."

Mattheo blinked, the ensuing silence lingering for what felt like a painful fucking eternity--time seemed to come to a standstill, everything around you fading into insignificance, leaving just you and the cunning, arrogant boy with tousled hair in your presence.

When he finally spoke, You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, understanding all too well that his words were laced with an arrogant twist, a prelude to something manipulative and cunning yet to unfold.

"You're right," he finally said, stepping closer. "I do need you,"

His voice dipped into a low, sinister register, and the corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile, sending a chill down your spine.

"I need you to watch your fucking mouth," the touch of his fingers on your arm nearly made you jump, his hand grazing up and over your shoulder. "I need you on your knees begging for my forgiveness," the pads of his fingers grazed your collarbone, and before you could even comprehend it, his large hand clasped around your throat, the other finding the small of your back as he pushed you up against the desk. "And then, I need you swallowing my fucking cum like the good little whore I know you are."

Without wasting a single second of time his plush lips attacked yours, his tongue delving past your teeth with a passionate urgency. You were painfully aware of Mattheo's manipulative tactics, understanding that he was using your vulnerability to his advantage, and the rational part of your mind screamed warnings at you, reminding you of the toxicity in his actions.

Yet, beneath the surface; as his hands roamed your curves, his tongue explored your mouth; an unsettling, exhilarating feeling lingered, a strange sort of affection for the very dominance that should have repelled you.

The awareness of his exploitation only intensified the rush, a twisted form of affection blossoming amidst the wrongness of it all. It was as if the knowledge of being used had become entangled with your desires, forming a paradoxical bond that you couldn't sever. In the midst of the moral turmoil, a dark, irresistible thrill coursed through your veins, leaving you helplessly drawn to the very thing you should have despised.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Raven..." his lips fell to your jawline, hands groping your curves, bunching the fabric of your uniform within his battered fists. "You've been swearing far too much...you were late...and now you want to act like you have power over me?" When he sunk his teeth into your earlobe, you yelped, flinching as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Don't get it twisted, princess...I hold the fucking power here...look at what I do to you..."

Your entire body was tingling, your fingers latching onto the fabric of his white button up dress shirt for dear fucking life.

"Mattheo-"

His lips fell lower, rough hands gripping your hips and shoving your ass back onto the desk behind you, parting your legs on either side of his strong body as he pulled you against him.

"This is what I do to good girls like you...I turn them into naughty little whores..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat, your lids involuntary fluttering shut at the breathtaking sensation. "...naughty little whores who take my cock and swallow my fucking cum."

His hands slid up your sides, taking the fabric of your skirt along with them, and you gasped as you felt it hike dangerously high up your thighs, trembling fingers tugging it back down to keep yourself covered.

Mattheo huffed, releasing the fabric. "You're not used to being bad though, are you, princess?"

His teeth sank into your collarbone, creating a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine. Strands of his tousled hair caressed your cheek, the faintest whisper of a touch sending tingles across your skin. Your lips parted involuntarily, releasing a soft whimper, while Mattheo's response echoed in a deep, guttural groan that reverberated through the air, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you.

One hand gripped your jaw as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. "Answer me when I ask you a question."

Your breath hitched, flames roaring in your veins. "No, Mattheo...I'm not..."

"Mm," he purred, wetting his lips as he stared. "Do you know what happens to bad girls, Raven?"

Your stomach twisted as he tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, his eyes darkening with desire as they darted across your face, seemingly examining your features as though they were precarious and new.

Your voice trembled. "No..."

"They get fucking punished."

Before you could respond, Mattheo shifted his hand, shoving two rough fingers between your teeth, reaching for the back of your throat and forcing a gag. Your eyes watered, beads of salty fluid threatening to spill down your cheeks, but he was unyielding, gripping the back of your neck with his other hand to force himself further down your throat--holding you in place while he did.

Your entire body was in flames, your thighs begging, fucking screaming in a need so disgustingly dirty you'd never experienced anything remotely close to it before.

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, his dark eyes watching every single ministration of your face as you gagged on his fingers. The hand behind your head relented as he brought it to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his trousers as he watched you; seemingly not having blinked once.

"Unbutton your shirt," his voice was a hoarse whisper, laced with primal desire. He pushed his fingers deeper, clearing his throat. "Seal those filthy lips around my fingers, and unbutton your fucking shirt, princess..."

You cursed the fact that his body was separating your legs because all you wanted, more than anything on the face of the planet, was to squeeze your fucking thighs together--to give your cunt any sort of friction possible. Every word from his lips was doing inexplicable things to your body, and the need between your thighs was growing so insistent it was almost painful.

Following his commands, you sealed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue and bobbing your head painfully slowly as you teased him, trembling fingers moving to the buttons on your blouse and undoing them one by one until your chest was entirely exposed to him--your lungs stalled, pussy clenching as you watched his eyes darken with desire while they scanned your chest covered only by your navy laced bra, the hand on his crotch moving more insistently now.

"My fucking God, Raven," he breathed, jaw tensing so tight it looked painful. "I can't believe you've been keeping all of that hidden this whole time..."

You mewled involuntarily as he grazed your chest with his free hand, pushing his fingers deeper down your throat with enough intensity to make you cough as his demeanour switched and he palmed your breast with enough force to illicit an exasperated groan. He was possessed now, something swarming his pupils that made your entire body convulse with unfamiliar and unabashed need; you were almost certain there'd be a pool of your desire on the desk between your thighs at this point.

Without warning, he abruptly removed his hands from you. Your lips, parted in anticipation of a breath, yearned for air before his mouth enveloped yours once more. In a frenzy, his hands hurriedly reached for his belt, driven by an almost desperate urgency as you both inhaled sharply through your nostrils. Your lips meshed together in a way that seemed to consume each other, as if you could breathe in one another during the kiss.

Once he'd successfully freed himself, he pulled back, shoving his fingers back into your mouth and yanking you off the desk, his throbbing length pressing against your belly as he shoved himself against you; fingers forcing another gag from your chest, watching you with a primal fervour in his eyes so intense it was intoxicating.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth again, he cupped his hand out in front of you. "Spit."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain buffering in attempt to process his words until his free hand shot into your hair, tilting your head until your lips were parallel to his palm.

"Spit, Raven," he repeated. "Spit into my fucking hand."

Your stomach contorted with a mix of disbelief and unfamiliar desire, your entire being thrown off balance. Each word that fell from his lips felt like a jolt, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. His eyes bored into you, searing your skin into flames, and without another moment's hesitation, you gathered the saliva he had coerced from you and spat it into his hand.

"Mm, that's it...good little whore..." He purred, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into his shaft as he stroked himself, eyes never once leaving yours. "Now, get on your knees for me, pretty girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. He, of all people, had just called you "pretty," and you were certain your ears were playing some sort of trick on you. It was a compliment you never expected from him, someone you had never imagined would see you in such a way. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did as he said, squeezing your thighs together as you situated yourself in front of his feet.

Mattheo's hand remained in your hair, firmly gripping a fistful as he stroked himself. "Hands behind your back, Raven..." he muttered. "Let me see those delicious fucking tits of yours."

Your entire body shuddered, immediately clasping your hands together behind you without a second thought.

"That's it...fuck-" he was stroking himself faster, the veins in his hands tensing with every movement. You weren't sure who was enjoying this more, him or you. "You want this, princess? You want this cock in your dirty little mouth?"

Your throat was drier than the desert, each swallow a struggle against the arid emptiness within. Fingernails dug into your own flesh with a fierce intensity, the pressure threatening to break through the skin, mirroring the internal turmoil that gripped you. Holy fucking shit.

"Yes..." your voice was a pathetic whisper.

"Don't be so modest, Raven," he sneered, slowing his pace, twisting his wrist as he stroked his shaft, eyes never once leaving yours. "Beg for it."

Your stomach was in your throat. You'd never done anything like that before, you weren’t even really sure how. "I...um-please, Mattheo..."

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features before he locked eyes with you once more, his arrogance wrapping around the room like a suffocating cloak.

"Bloody hell, I said beg for it...does the prissy little princess not know how to fucking beg?" his voice was a hoarse growl, his vocal cords strained with lust. "Tell me how bad you want my cock, Raven, tell me how much you need it."

You couldn't believe your ears; the turn of events in your life felt utterly surreal. Never in your entire existence could you have imagined that this is where you'd find yourself right now--merely a few months away from graduation, on your knees for the most suffocatingly arrogant delinquent in the school who was making you beg to suck his fucking dick. A man who only last year wouldn't have paid you an ounce of mind, who probably didn’t even know you existed.

Your cheeks burned, but you fought through it, the arousal in your lungs fuelling your words. "Please, Mattheo...I want your cock so bad, I want you in my mouth, I want to choke on it, I want you to fuck my throat until you cum-"

His grip on your hair tightened, simultaneous with the grip on his cock as he cranked your head back, leaning down to meet your eyes; his lips hovering mere inches above yours.

"My God, you're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?" He purred, smirking so wide it reached his eyes, his fingers bruising your scalp. "A dirty fucking slut whose sole purpose is to let me use her mouth whenever I want, yeah?"

You swallowed, wincing as he jerked your head back further, fucking into his fist faster, harder. "Yes, Mattheo..."

He sneered, clearly loving every fucking minute of this. "Imagine if anyone saw you like this...fuck-you're fucking filthy..." his voice was breathless, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to make himself cum before you had the chance to suck him off. "Apologize for being such a nasty little slut and I'll let you swallow my cum."

Your thighs clenched in need, your wetness seeping through your panties at this point. Gods, you wanted him so fucking bad you thought you were going to die.

"I'm sorry," you pleaded, eyes wide as you peered up at him, nearly-speechless. "I'm sorry for being a nasty little slut."

"That's right..." he purred, directing the head of his cock toward your mouth, groaning as your pressed your lips to it. "Good girl...fuck-so good for me..."

Your entire body was in flame, hands still clasped together behind your back as both of his thrust tightly through your hair, absentmindedly sealing your lips around his shaft, revelling in his skin's heat, dragging your tongue along the throbbing, pulsing underside. Riddle growled, bucking his hips, and you took him further into your mouth, gagging as his tip slammed the back of your throat.

"You take me so well, Raven..." he breathed, head falling back on his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as his hands urged your head along his length. "Can't believe a mouth that annoying can feel this fucking good."

You groaned in assent, sucking hard at his cock as he slowly started to fuck your throat. You were both struggling to breathe, both losing control, both lost in an ocean of primal, urgent carnality. Pleasure was straining your seams, ready to explode inside of you, drool dribbling in globs from your chin, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold the boundaries of your sanity together.

"Mm, fuck..." Riddle's grip was crushing your skull. "I changed my mind…I'm gonna' cum on those perfect tits, princess..."

Your bones almost liquefied at this--but you steadied your knees, gagging as he started fucking into your throat faster, thrusting deep, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head as you allowed him to use your mouth as a helpless hole for him to fuck--singlehandedly loving every fucking second of it.

"Shit-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."

Your thighs clenched, brain fogged by a hurricane of lust, but when he pulled out, abruptly, your cognition returned--your vision clearing to an image of Riddle, red-faced, fucking his fist. Snarling, he jerked your hair, and choked on his moan, the sound stuttering while he shot the hot loads of his cum onto your chest and neck. He sucked down air in long, heavy breaths, waiting until the end of his release had dissipated, and then dropped you, stepping back to marvel at his masterpiece. You swore steam was wafting off your skin.

"Beautiful," he murmured. He pieced himself back together, buckling his belt. "Tell me how I taste."

Every inch of you tingled, chest heaving, jaw slack in an open pant. Keeping his stare, you brought a trembling hand to your chest, swiping his sticky cum off your tits and trailing it past your lips, slowly sucking it off your first two fingers. The taste melding with the mere prospect of what was happening elicited a low moan from your chest, and you shuddered, trapped in his gaze until you were finished.

"Salty." You teased, smirking up at him.

"Salty, huh?” He huffed, a devious grin on his face as he helped you up to your feet, rough palm grasping your forearm. "Important mineral for a balanced meal, yeah?"

You chuckled, heat swarming your skin as you stammered up to your feet, meeting his darkened eyes as you began buttoning up your shirt, taking in his newly flushed features--curly brown hair slightly sticking to his forehead before he ran a battered hand through it, brushing it back.

“Smartass,” you grumbled, turning toward the desk. “Next week we have an exam, so there won’t be a tutor session, you know that right?”

He released a breath, throwing himself into the usual creaky wooden chair beside yours. “Guess that just means you’ll have to do that again before the nights’ over,” he said. “You know, to compensate for next week.”

You rolled your eyes, failing to hide your smirk. “In your dreams, Riddle.”

“Oh, definitely not, princess.” He breathed, glimpsing you briefly. “In my dreams you do a hell of a lot more than that.”

——————

Chapter four->

[minswriting]

AARON HOTCHNER NSFW ALPHABET

warnings: NSFW content, MDNI, dominant aaron, thigh kink, breeding kink,

A = After Care

aaron is so good at aftercare! he’ll check in on you emotionally to see how you’re doing before examining your body to see if you have any bruises forming. he’s sweet and kind, takes his time to really make you feel okay.

B = Body Part

aaron has two favorite body parts of himself. he loves his arms and holding you. but he also loves his voice. the assertiveness, the dominance that he accentuates with his words, he thrives off of it. on you, he loves your hair and your thighs. he loves to play with your hair or tug on it. but he also loves playing with your thighs. or fucking them.

C = Cum

when aaron cums, it’s legit erupting from his cock. and it has everything to do with the fact that he’s traveling most of the time and is stressed 24/7. he has a massive breeding kink too so when he’s fucking you for the first time in what feels like weeks, he’ll cum inside of you and literally fill you up to the brim.

D = Dirty Secret

aaron definitely has a daddy kink that he does not talk about at all because he’s too shy.

E = Experience

he’s only ever been with haley (they met in high school right?) but he had taken his time to know her body and to know female pleasure. so his experience is top tier. he KNOWS pleasure.

F = Favorite Position

i feel like hotch has a lot of favorite positions but he absolutely adores bending you over the desk while he takes you from behind, pulling your hair in the process. he also loves fucking you the same way in front of a mirror or in a very intimate sexual position.

G = Goofy

i don’t think aaron is goofy during sex unless you’re both really tired but need relief. when the two of you are so tired or even drunk, you’re giggling, laughing, crack a joke or two.

H = Hair

he’s either really well groomed or it’s wild down there. there is no in between. it truthfully just depends on his time and if he has time to make himself groomed.

I = Intimacy

sex with aaron is so intimate and it’s so intense. he’s the type to pound his cock inside of you so hard all while muttering praises into your ear about how beautiful you are and how well you’re taking him. all while he’s holding your hand.

J = Jack Off

aaron does not jerk off often. every once in a blue moon. however, he loves to do it when the two of you are on the phone and you’re just talking about your day. he definitely gets off to the sound of your voice and you’re more than okay with that.

K = Kink

honestly he has so many so here is a list lol

degradation, praise, sir kink, daddy kink, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, choking, hair pulling, and so many many more.

L = Location

i think he prefers to do it in the bedroom of all places but man does he LOVE fucking you in his office. whether it’s his office at work (which is rare because of how risky it is) or his office at his house. bending you over the desk and taking you is just top tier for him.

M = Motivation

you. always you. but also being super stressed is definitely a motivation.

N = No

he would never engage with blood play (unless you’re on your period. he will fuck you on your period) nor would he do anything to hurt you too bad. the most he will do is spank and choke you.

O = Oral

LOVES GIVING IT AND RECEIVING IT! he never asks for head simply because he gets off on your pleasure. but if you just drop to your knees, he’s never going to say no because it feels so good. he’s extremely good at giving it tho too. he is such a munch and will suck on your clit, lick your slit, etc.

P = Pace

his pace is usually hard, fast, and rough. he loves rough sex. but if he’s slow, his pace would be slow but hard, and it would be more romantic. pls i need his dick lol

Q = Quickie

he doesn’t prefer quickies. he prefers to take his time with you, making you cum at least three times in one session. however, he enjoys quickies occasionally, especially if it’s right before he has to go to work or it’s after he had come back.

R = Risk

he isn’t a HUGE risk taker but he would definitely dabble in office sex at least once or twice. but only when he’s sure no one else is in the bureau. other than that, he only fucks you at his house or your house.

S = Stamina

he usually only lasts for one long round but sometimes he can do two. it depends on how tired he is at that time.

T = Toys

i feel like he definitely has a flesh light. and when he fucks it, he imagines it’s your pussy. he is also perfectly okay with you having toys as well. especially because he can punish you with your dildo, not allowing you to have the real thing.

U = Unfair

hotch can be so unfair. he loves punishing you. especially if you’ve been particularly bratty. he will deny you orgasm, exclaiming that orgasms are only for good girls who listen when told what to do. he leaves overstimulation for when you’ve been really good for him.

V = Volume

i don’t think aaron makes a lot of noise. however, he definitely grunts and talks you through it. he’ll give praise or he’ll degrade you. regardless, he’s not a moaner. but he still talks!

W = Wild Card

you’d definitely have some sort of voice kink. and aaron would use this tone of voice that’s soft spoken but still authoritative while having sex that you can’t help but look in his eyes, captivated by his voice.

X = X-Ray

🥰🥰🥰 aaron’s cock is about seven inches but man he is GIRTHY!! his cock will stretch you out, filling you up in ways you’ve never felt before.

Y = Yearning

like many men, aaron is almost always down for sex. however, it’s not a priority to him. he prioritizes quality time over sex. however that in no way means you guys rarely have sex. he likes to have sex with you at least three times a week.

Z = ZZZ

personally, i think he’s very sleepy after sex. but he will always engage in aftercare before going to sleep.

[bloodykhaos]

Gifts and Fun Consequences

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: A little bit of violence.

Summary: Playing a traitor hunter is not something your Queen is happy about.

══════════════════

The whole world around you was burning. Not literally. But, even in that aspect, it would not be long for it to happen as well. You had always liked to think you were a good person. Calm, kind, collected.

And you had been. For a while. Until Hightowers had decided to steal the throne. There was almost nothing from the old you in the new you. The betrayal had changed you. It was not even done to you, but it still felt like a knife had been buried in your back and twisted for good measure.

The feeling only had deepened when you had found out one of your closest friends had not shared the same views as you and his brother. Arryk's choice had cut you deep. As deep as your sword had cut him when he had tried to murder the Queen. And when he had not seen anything wrong with attacking Erryk in the process.

You'd found them battling in the Queen's sleeping chambers. It hadn't taken you long to put two and two together when you'd seen her terrified and curled up on the floor. Her features had been painted in colors you had never wanted to see.

Your sword out of its leather sheath had been the next thing you had known before you'd charged at Arryk when he'd knocked his brother down. You would never forget the look in his eyes.

The regret, the sorrow. But the readiness to end his brother's life had been there too. And it'd been the last thing to push you one step closer to dragging your sword through his stomach after he would not have listened to your pleas.

Nothing had been the same since that day. Since it had happened a week ago. Erryk had not been himself at all, but had never put the blame on you. And it was okay. You were blaming yourself for all three of you. There was enough guilt in you already.

That was why you did your best to mask the way emotions pulled at you. How they attempted to sneak their way into your head and lead to your demise.

Maybe that was why you had started making unwise decisions. Decisions that had seemed great and very well planned until you had taken action. It had not been the tactics of the war that had led you to those decisions.

It had been your anger at everyone and everything.

That was how you found yourself in this situation right now.

The clinking of the metal was bouncing off the stone walls as you walked with one hand over your sword and the other fisted in the hair of an unfortunate man. Unfortunate because he'd had the rare occasion of you making it your personal mission to find him.

He was not too smart, so it had not been a challenge at all. Taking candy out of a child's hand would be harder. You should have done this weeks ago when the Greens had decided to put their impostor on your Queen's throne.

A loud thud sounded throughout the big hall as you pushed the man to his knees. Your tight grip on the hair made him wince, his face scrunching up in pain before you let go of his head and stood a few steps in front of him.

Fixing your armor and making sure your sword was safely in its sheath, you cleared your throat while he stared up at you with a foolish smirk on his dirty face. "Is this what you truly fell into doing?" His head shook as it dropped loosely.

"Joining the unrightful, fake heir?" He spoke, seething out his words like a snake. "Betraying your King is disgusting to do even for you." He looked at you with displeasure written all over his face before he spat in front of your feet.

Taking a slow and deep breath, you looked up while pursing your lips. He really did not know when to stop. "Ah!" His head whipped as a strong punch was delivered to his face.

The air got knocked out of his lungs, causing his mouth to open as he blinked slowly. "I do not know what you are speaking of. I only know of the Queen Rhaenyra." Your stoic tone had nothing in common with the actions of your fist.

"I am not aware of what kind of people you acquaint yourself with, Cole—" Continuing, you raised one hand, clenching and unclenching it. "But I am not interested in joining."

Criston huffed. And huffed again. Before an airy chuckle turned into a laugh that you fought hard not to roll your eyes at. "You truly want to devote your life to serve that who-" The word could never be finished as your fist connected with his cheek once more.

"Oh, excuse me." Your face scrunched up in concern and confusion. Your upper body bent to get closer to his face. "Did you want to say something?" The question seemingly innocent held a huge warning behind itself.

If the way you said it was not enough, the look on your face should let him know you would not listen to insults thrown at the Queen.

His lips pursed as he looked at you with anger in his eyes. "You are pathetic." Almost spitting at you as he spoke, his nostrils flared. "You could have been a great knight, but instead, you are just her whore." His bitter tone made your lips pucker out for a second while you listened.

Your eyes went to the side and up while you slightly scrunched your eyebrows. But your gaze quickly found his again. Taking a step closer, you did not fear him doing anything. Even with his hands untied.

Lowering your upper body to the point your eye line was almost at the same level as his, you tilted your head. "I can be her whore." You said lowly. "I can be her slut." You added in a careless tone. "I can be whatever she wishes to call me."

The low volume of your voice only intensified the message you were giving. There were no threats, but he looked worried. "And I will still have more honor than you in your white cloak." You finished the sentence with a click of your tongue as you let out the last word.

Your burning gaze stayed on him as the silence embraced both of you. His eyes going between yours before his throat bopped.

"Ser Y/n!" You heard the only voice that could ever make you do whatever she wanted you to do. The only voice you followed the orders of. Sometimes not very well. Like this time.

You stood back to your full height while smiling at Criston. "What is the meaning of this?" You turned around just in time to see her confusion and irritation as she waved her hand.

"I have brought you a gift, Your Grace." Her head tilted at you as she squinted her eyes. You acted like nothing happened, back to your Queensguard-self. Back to behaving like a true knight on duty.

But she did not see you just as that anymore. She knew your true self. "A gift?" She repeated, unimpressed. "Is this the gift you are speaking of?" The annoyance in her tone was shining through as she gestured with her hand to Criston.

However, her eyes were glued to you. And they were not filled with happiness. "Yes, Your Grace." You stepped to the side, giving her a clear line of sight from the direction of where she was standing.

She glanced at the man before her eyes rolled as she sighed unhappily. Her hands holding onto her long dress. "And to what possible end would you bring him into the Dragonstone?" Her mouth was tense, the skin on her neck straining with each word she spoke.

"He had plenty of things to say, Your Grace." You informed her before moving your eyes to Criston. "Did you not?" The rhetorical question made the man look up at you as he avoided Rhaenyra's gaze.

He, however, stayed quiet. "Did you not?!"

"Yes!" You smiled to yourself satisfied when he finally responded after you had raised your voice.

His eyes dropping to the ground as he kept kneeling on the hard stone. Rhaenyra finally looked at him for longer than a second. Intrigue appeared on her features.

"What things?" Her words held some edge, opposite to the, now, calm demeanor. "Tell your Queen what things." You nodded at the man who would not raise his gaze above the floor.

You waited for him to speak as Rhaenyra looked at you with parted lips. Sucking in your bottom lip, you slightly shook your head before stretching your mouth into an unamused smile.

"Tell your Queen!" Your voice was so loud it bounced off the walls in the hall and caused the blonde woman to look at you with widened eyes.

"She's not my Queen!" He finally replied, trying to be loud but could barely be heard.

Your eyes found Rhaenyra, not believing in Criston's foolishness. "If she is not, then you are a traitor to the crown." You declared openly, your hands resting on the handle of your sword.

The Queen's gaze was roaming your face as you bit the corner of your lip from the inside. Standing on guard right next to the dark-haired man, your head was looking straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"It is not possible for me to be what you speak of when I believe in one, true King Aegon II." Your mouth ticked at his words. You had never liked him. Ever since he had joined the Kingsguards.

He represented nothing with himself. He was no real warrior. "What will you choose to do with me for speaking honestly, Ser Y/n?" Your eyes faltered at the mocking tone of your name as you could see from the corner how Rhaenyra's face changed into anger upon hearing it too.

Moving slowly and lowering your head to his, you watched as his ignorant grin widened. "The only person who can decide your fate is Queen Rhaenyra." The firmness of your words made the man blink.

"And you should be happy about it." Now, it was your turn to smirk at him. "Because I already have a lot of things planned for you in case she needs any help with deciding." Criston's face quickly dropped as he paled a little.

It made the corners of your mouth lift even higher as you stood straighter. At times, you could be perceived as insane. And it was perfect for torturing methods. Or situations like this where it did not hurt to scare and threaten unworthy people.

Criston knew what you were capable of. You were also sure he would not want to experience how far your cruelty could go.

"That is enough." The Queen's voice made you stand straighter again as you would not look away from Criston. You relished in the fear that was forming on his face. "Take him away to the dungeon."

Rhaenyra ordered two guards, gesturing with her head as her hands laid neatly at her front. "And you, Ser Y/n." Your posture formed to perfection as you stood with your chin up. "I will be waiting for the explanation in my chambers." Her words were sharp as you listened.

She would not look away from you for a longer while before shaking her head in irritation and walking away.

——

"Are you mad?!" She almost yelled out as soon as the doors closed, leaving only the two of you to privacy. "Have you not listened to what I said before?!" It would have to be the angriest you had ever seen her.

"I have, my Queen." There was nothing you could say or do that would make it better right now. She was already mad at you. Mad for ignoring her orders.

"Chasing after Cole alone? Only Daemon could be accused of such foolishness!" Her feet were taking her back and forth as she was pacing around the chambers.

Her hand was on her forehead as she rubbed it. "Cole is nothing close to a warrior, he could not be a challenge even at his best-" Her angry eyes found you quickly as you started speaking.

"It is not Cole I am worried about!" She cut you off sharply, her gaze piercing through yours as you sighed. "It is everyone else that could have seen you, kidnapped you, even taken your life!" Her voice kept getting louder and louder.

But you did not even flinch, you listened to everything she had to say. You took a half-step forward, reaching for her with your hand. "Rhaen, nothing happen-"

"That is no way to speak to your Queen!" Her teeth were clenched as she looked at you with wide, full-of-rage eyes.

You immediately stepped back to your previous spot. Hands going to your sides as you stood to your full height. Your head was unmoving as you stared blankly ahead.

"You disregarded my orders, left the Dragonstone without my permission at a convenient time when I could not have noticed your absence until recently." She started ranting and listing every single thing you had done. Every rule you had broken. "And most importantly, you could have died!"

Her wild eyes were going from one thing to another and another, trying to find anything that would occupy her head. She was leaning on the table, her arms spread widely as she breathed deeply.

You stayed silent. Your stance did not falter even for a second as she was composing herself. Her hand rubbing at her eyebrows before she turned around to you.

"Will you not say anything?!" She asked loudly, raising her hands and making them drop to her sides.

She tensed her entire mouth as she waited for you. "I apologize for my actions, Your Majesty, it will not happen again." You spoke softly, not letting your eyes wander to her. Not letting them connect with hers.

She huffed in irritation, turning her body around and running a hand through her hair before moving back to you. "Is that all you have to say?" She pursed her lips, her hand gesturing to you as its palm was pointed up.

When you did not reply, she started walking and stood right in front of you. She stared right into your eyes, going between them, as you did your best to avoid her gaze.

"Are you not going to embrace me?" Her tone was still firm, but you could sense the falter in her words.

"I am not allowed to-"

"Oh, for Gods' sake, Y/n." Her eyes rolled in frustration as she grabbed both of your hands and wrapped your arms around herself.

Your mouth twitched as a small smile threatened to break out on your lips when she pushed herself closer to you. "Do not dare to do this ever again." She spoke in your neck and you finally let a grin spread on your face as you tightened your arms around her.

"I was losing my mind worrying about you." One of your hands went up to her hair and softly caressed it as the metal of your armor clinked.

She huffed in annoyance at how stiff your movements were and pulled away while looking at your chest. "Take this off. I hate it when it gets in my way." You could not help the chuckle that passed your lips as you started getting rid of the armor.

"I do not think you like anything or anyone getting in your way, my dear." Her head tilted at your words, but you saw the hint of a smile that formed on her lips.

"I do not mind someone getting in my way." The chuckle only intensified as your head shook while she quickly raised her eyebrows at you. A playful smirk playing on her lips.

When you managed to put away all of the parts, she quickly stepped back into your personal space and sneaked her arms around your torso. "If you ever do that again, there will be serious consequences." Her breath was hitting your lips as she kept her head up to look at you.

Smirking at her, you embraced her with your strong arms before pulling her closer and ghosting your lips over hers. "It depends on what type of consequences we are speaking of." Your low voice had the woman glancing down at your lips as she dug her short nails into your back.

"Some of them proved to be quite tempting." You added, brushing her lips with yours. And it was all it took for her to connect them, fisting your shirt and pulling at it.

You did not waste any second and kissed her back instantly, hands lying flat on her back before one of them wandered lower. Her mouth opened when you squeezed her backside and you swiftly pushed your tongue inside.

Moans sounded through both of your throats before she pulled away to get some air. Your mouth did not wait for hers to come back as you attached it to her soft skin. Sucking and nibbling on her neck, you heard her sighs getting louder.

"To the bed." Her words were quiet, but you were used to that in this kind of situation as she was losing herself.

"I thought you wanted to speak." Teasing her with a smirk on your face, you earned yourself a hard glare when she grabbed your hair and pulled you away from her neck.

"Do not test my patience any longer today." Your smirk widened so much it could break your face as you smashed your lips against hers and started walking her back to the bed.

The anticipation was rising for both of you as you were getting drunk on how eager she was.

"As you wish, my Queen."

After all, there was something you could do to make it better.

══════════════════

[steviewashere]

Baby Blanket

Rating: General CW: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abandonment (as I think that's what it would technically be even if Steve is an adult at this point) Tags: Post-Canon, Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Sick Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Has a Complicated Relationship With His Mom, Baby Blanket, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Loves Him So Bad, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Sad Steve Harrington, Cuddling & Snuggling For @steddieangstyaugust Day 15 Prompt: Childhood (apologies that I'm late, but this idea hit me very last minute on the 15th, oops!) Also, I didn't mean to describe Linus's (from Peanuts/Charlie Brown) blanket, but I sorta did?

🌡️—————🌡️ He’s careful about inserting the thermometer into Steve’s mouth. Even as the aforementioned guy coughs around it, jostling the little glass thing, nearly knocking it straight back down to the floor. But he’s prepared to keep it from crashing this time. No way is he going out to the store—again—to replace the damn thing.

“Breathe slow through your nose, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, demanding lightly. “I know it’s hard to do right now, but we won’t get an accurate reading if you spit this thing out.” He cups his palms under Steve’s chin just in case, all too riled at the thought of having to be the catcher on the field. But it just ends up being a precautionary thing—as Steve, though rolling his eyes, does exactly what he’s told.

It’s a slow going process. The mercury inside working up, up, up as the time ticks away. A minute passes and Eddie knows that Steve is suppressing coughs. His eyes have gone watery and his cheeks, already flushed, glow a deeper and brighter terrible red. There’s got to be a huge wad of snot stuck half past and around the block in his right nostril, the feeble attempts at sucking in air are just that—feeble. And the deepest tell to Steve’s state is the awful, wet, raspy rattling croaking from his chest.

Inwardly, Eddie raises his fist at whatever god allowed the creation of the flu virus. And he shakes that fist for causing that damn virus to spread.

His watch beeps, two minutes up. And he gently pries the thermometer from Steve’s overly moist mouth, unlocking the hacking of his lungs, and the spray of his spit, and the miserable attempts to cover it all up with his elbow. Not like that would do anything, Eddie bitterly thinks, I already had this shit last week.

103 degrees Fahrenheit.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He sets the thermometer onto the coffee table. Reaches out for Steve’s shoulders and forces him back down onto his right side—half flopped already on the sofa, just needs to get his legs tucked back underneath him. And he pets a shaking hand over the exposed, goosepimpled, and overheated skin of Steve’s bicep. Usually, this muscle tank he’s got going on would be hot, but now it’s just…bleh. “Listen,” Eddie whispers, “if your fever doesn’t break by tomorrow morning, I have to take you to the hospital, okay?”

Steve gives a weak whine. Eyes closed, mouth twisted, shivering. “I don’t wanna,” he petulantly protests; but that’s not going to work on Eddie. Not this time, at least.

“I know,” Eddie murmurs, “I know, baby. But I’m serious this time. You’ve already been sick a while longer than I have. And you’re shaking like a leaf. And though you finally were able to keep down some crackers and soup—and water, thank god—you’ve barely had anything to eat. I’m just”—he sighs—“I’m worried, Steve. I’m worried this is something more than just the average flu.”

Another weak little sound, this time something like a sniffle. And when Eddie gets a clear look at Steve’s face, no longer buried into the soft throw pillow under his head, his heart begins to fracture. Tears streak Steve’s already ruddy, terribly warm cheeks. And his lips are quivering. And his eyebrows are quirked in an uncomfortable twist.

And Eddie hates this.

“Baby?” He calls to Steve.

“S-sorry,” Steve chokes out, “I don’t feel good.”

He brings his hand off of Steve’s bicep, instead cupping the back of his head. “Okay,” he softly says, “you don’t need to be sorry, baby. But thank you for telling me how you’re feeling. Can you tell me what doesn’t feel good? Maybe I can help fix it?”

For a long moment, Steve doesn’t say anything. Instead, he gets the last of his tears out of his system, lets Eddie hold him along his greasy hair, and continues to shiver through his whole body. Finally, he whispers, “Can you stay and…can you cuddle with me?” He doesn’t look Eddie in the eyes when he requests it. Doesn’t dare drag his sight off the loose threads of the throw pillows, strings that Eddie promised he would sew back straight when they were both feeling better. Steve takes another raspy, deep breath that physically pains Eddie to even hear. And then he tacks on, softer than before, “My mom used to when she still loved…” He sighs.

There’s not much to say to that, other than Eddie immediately and already agreeing. Because a cuddle with his boyfriend is as easy as breathing air for him. But they still haven’t touched on the sore subject that is Steve’s parents. Or Steve’s childhood, for that matter.

It’s not like there’s much reason to. Not when they’ve got a life outside of Hawkins now and have their own apartment and Steve hasn’t spoken to either of his parents in roughly three whole years. Not when they’ve learned to take responsibility for each other—both in the duty of making sure the other is safe and healthy, and in the sense that without the other, one of them just wouldn’t be. And it’s never time to talk about Steve’s parents when all they’ve done is push him aside, leave him second best to their work and social lives, and when they finally paid attention—they realized that having a certain type of kid (a word that they don’t repeat, an f word) hindered all the “work” they’ve done for the family they have.

Not that they’re family.

But they tried to act like one at some point.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, “let’s get you to our room, okay? You want me to get anything else before I slip into bed with you?”

Again, Steve takes a moment of silence. Then, “I stole one of my mom’s blankets when we moved in here. It’s in the hall closet. Can I have that?”

“Yes, baby. What’s the pattern on it?”

Quietly, Steve answers, “My baby blanket. The blue one. It has my name embroidered on it.”

“I’ll grab it, I promise. Now, let me get you to bed and I’ll be with you in just a second.”

He easily and carefully picks Steve up from the couch. Not exactly light, but not heavy either. And shuffles the two of them down the hallway to their bedroom. Tucks Steve under just the top sheet, no comforter. Pushes hair away from his forehead and back behind his ear. Leaves a little kiss to his right cheek, the heat radiating onto Eddie’s lips.

Then, Eddie grabs what he needs: an ice pack from the freezer, a cold bottle of water, the container of cough syrup, and some Tylenol. It’s the baby blanket that’s harder to get. Not because it’s buried in the back of the closet. And not because it’s simply not there.

But it’s the way it lays between Eddie’s hands that really gets him.

It’s a pale blue. Something close to periwinkle. Has a light layer of fuzz and lint, as if it’s hardly been washed over the years. Too precious of cargo to run through the washing machine, and too hard to take away for a hand wash when Steve probably needed it all the time. The edges are frayed—strings loose, some of the stitching completely missing, a few tears that would never be sewn up to the original corner it’s meant to be. There’s a couple small stains on it, most likely from being dragged or even dropped in dirt. In the bottom right corner of the fabric is a name embroidered in off-white floss: Steve. Though, upon closer inspection, it appears one of the letters is missing. The only thing left in its wake is the shadow of what should’ve been an ’N.’ Like maybe it had been altered at some point.

The size of the thing pulls at Eddie’s heart strings, too.

Not a big one—like the quilt his mama made when he had turned three, though it wouldn’t fully cover him until he was ten (when she wouldn’t see him use it, but he tries hard not to think of that. Tries.). It’s not medium, either. No, this baby blanket is the perfect size for a baby; a newborn baby.

Underneath Eddie’s right index finger, he feels a soft tag on the back of the blanket. And when he flips it over, he spots exactly that. A tag. Not with care instructions like some of those store bought blankets—pre-determined with a name. No, it’s a screwy kind of tag. Made from obvious silk, scrap fabric, off-white, too, but yellowing from old age. And in a black, inky scrawl, it reads:

‘For you, my little prince. For my heart. I love you always. -Mommy’

And he didn’t want to cry, but he’s close to bursting with the need to. So, he shoves that little bit of emotion back inside, puts the blanket in the crook of his left elbow, and carries his haul back to their bedroom. Where he finds Steve in the same position: curled up on his left side, hands tucked under his chin, legs bent and ankles crossed, the top sheet pulled all the way up to his wrists, eyes glazed and looking at the empty left spot of the mattress where Eddie should be.

He puts the ice pack on the back of Steve’s neck, even if he’s met with a slight hiss and a half-assed wriggle away. But, thankfully, the fight can be put off because Steve stops trying to get away. To that, Eddie internally relieves a sigh. Twists the cap off of the bottle of water, but places it on Steve’s bedside table for him to reach later. The cough syrup and Tylenol go to Eddie’s table. But the baby blanket goes immediately to Steve, who takes it with quick, healthy movements.

Eddie can only lay himself under the top sheet, melting and softening at the sight of Steve bringing the blanket up close to his face, tucking one of the torn and frayed edges to his bottom lip. He runs the old fabric on his dry mouth, almost like he’s smearing kisses along the thing.

“Thank you,” Steve tiredly breathes.

Laying on his right side, Eddie has full access to Steve from where he is. He reaches out a gentle hand to the side of his boyfriend’s face, caresses his skin tenderly, and then pulls him close between his shoulder blades. Not quite tucked into Eddie’s warmth, but enough that they could share body heat. But he does tangle their legs together, just to give them contact, just to satiate some of what Steve needs.

Steve scoots even closer, though. Closer than how they should lay considering he’s got a temperature that nearly warrants a hospital visit. But Eddie lets him lay his head on his shoulder. Lets him puff warm air onto his neck. Lets him take.

“Eds?”

He hums questioningly.

A hard, yet slow intake of breath. “I miss my mom,” Steve admits quietly. So quietly, Eddie almost doesn’t hear him. But he does. Damnit, he does. “She’s not a bad person. She’s not…she’s not what my dad made her to be.”

“I know,” Eddie can only say, “I know, Stevie.”

“She love—s me.”

Eddie throws his left arm over Steve’s waist, brushes his hand over the small of Steve’s back. “Yeah?” He asks softly.

“Mhm,” Steve answers, “I know it.” Eddie can just feel the tickle of the baby blanket brush him. Like it’s being pulled even closer. “She made this for me. And she…she used to tell me stories. And she took care of me when I was sick.”

He has to bite his tongue, even as his fingers betray him—as they squeeze Steve at the utterance of those words. Because he knows better than to point out the ‘was’ in those sentences. He knows better than to make a point that Steve’s mom hasn’t even bothered to try and keep contact. Even when she was given a phone number—“For emergencies,” so Steve had said.

Though, that makes Eddie wonder if it was for emergencies at all.

Makes him wonder if it really meant, “Call me every once in a while. Don’t be a stranger.”

He can’t tell Steve, delirious and sick and sad Steve, that his mom is effectively a stranger now. Can’t do that. Can’t be the one to tell him that his mom is basically dead. And the evidence of that is her absence.

He can’t do that.

“Oh, she loves you so much, baby,” he lies.

Steve nods. His hair scraping the underside of Eddie’s jaw, dirty and heavy and prickly. “She does,” he agrees. Then, he goes silent again. His fingers running over the blanket, feet rustling under the top sheet, skin on skin, nasally breaths through a stuffed up nose. 

“Doesn’t she?” Steve asks later, quiet and low. Unsure.

🌡️—————🌡️

[vexis-world]

“You can't seriously be that dumb..!”

💗 Clarisse la rue x daughter of Apollo!reader one-shot 💗

Authors note: hi reader!! This is my first fan-fiction post so I'd love any constructive criticism to help improve my writing for the future! This is not beta read so it's far from perfect - but I hope you will still enjoy it nonetheless :)) Ty for reading! 🫶

Short summary: Clarisse has some doubts about your "relationship" and seeks you out to speak about her worries.

Word count: 940ish words!

Clarisse’s mind was swarming with thoughts; it always does when she trains alone. She thinks best in the training arena, it's in her blood after all. You and her had been in a relationship for almost 3 months now and hadn't kissed yet. Which isn't a big deal! Clarisse doesn't mind, at least that's what she tells herself. But this is her first relationship, and she doesn't have anyone to unload this onto. To ask advice without having to reveal too much about herself, and her most private fears. She knew that you wanted to take things slow. Although it was not confirmed by words, Clarisse could (in her opinion) read her ‘girlfriend’ well. However when was slow, too slow? Were you having mixed feelings all of a sudden? And if so why had this not been brought up? Clarisse believed that you two were close, as ones in a romantic partnership should be; but perhaps not as close as she had originally thought.

Clarisse took large and fast steps, speed walking over to you. People moved out of her way, they could tell it was urgent and that they shouldn't mess with Clarisse at this moment. Or any moment for that matter.

“Hey Clarisse!” you spoke enthusiastically, finishing up a patient in the infirmary. “Pretty girl, explain something to me.” Clarisse's words make you blush, faintly; you had mainly gotten used to her flirty remarks these past few weeks, but she always manages to catch you off guard, every once in a while. “Ok.. what's up?” you asked, in a nervous tone. You could clearly see the distressed look on the girls face. “It's sort of private, can we speak in the back?” this added to your nerves, clarisse was usually never this off. “Of course, is everything okay?” but before you could finish your sentence, clarisse had already walked over to the back of the infirmary and into the supply area.

The supply closet was cramped with the both of you in there. Clarisse had to push up against you with an arm over your head for you two to fit somewhat comfortably. “Clarisse, is everything okay?” you asked again, this time hoping you would get a straight forward reply. “Do you.. Have you um..” clarisse stuttered avoiding your concerned gaze. “Have you lost feelings for me or something?” she finally mutters. You spent a minute gathering up your words, to find a way to reply. You bit your lip with furrowed brows, before the words fully processed and then said. “What..?” Clarisse had a strange expression on her face. “It's been three months and we haven't kissed or held hands in public. We don't go on proper dates. I feel like you don’t like me” she says quickly with an eye-roll included. “Clarisse, what are you on about..? Why would we kiss?” you asked hesitantly. “Why wouldn't you? Were in a relationship, isn't that kinda the norm?” This left you frozen. You were shocked, obviously but also majorly embarrassed. Had you been in a relationship without even knowing it? And to your crush no less. Fuck. “.. relationship?” you said nauseously, with butterflies in your stomach. “Clarisse, is this some sort of sick joke..?” you added, with shallow breaths. The room was getting stuffy and suffocating. “What do you mean sick joke? Have I ever lied to you? Are my feelings a joke to you? Is that it? Forget it. If I make you this fucking sick then good thing you're in the infirmary. I'm leaving, let's not talk for a while, 'kay?” she pushes past you. since you two were practically melted into one another, you could feel how she'd gotten warmer and how her heart rate had gone up significantly. You try to go after her but just as you do, your brother, Will asks you to tend to another patient that had just come in. He calls over his shoulder. “trouble in paradise? Gonna have to wait, I'm afraid - I need some help over here!” leaving you even more puzzled.

An hour or two goes by since you spoke with clarisse, and she’s consumed your thoughts entirely. You decided to speak to her at dinner and try to resolve whatever happened earlier.

“Clarisse, can we talk? Again..” you whispered, almost begging. “Kinda busy. We’ll talk later.” clarisse brushes you off to finish scraping her offerings into the fire. “Please clarisse. I need to speak to you. Just for a second.” you plead. “Two minutes. Two, that's it.” clarisse says, her eyes finally looking up from fire to the now very interesting sky. “Thank you.” You sigh and lead her away to a more secluded area as she had done with you. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And they're not a joke to me. I'm just confused. What did you mean by relationship?” Clarisse replies by saying “what do you mean, what do i mean? We're dating, aren't we?” you take a pause, dumbfounded for the second time today. “Since when? Don't take this the wrong way but.. I don't remember you asking me to be your.. Um.. girlfriend.” your voice is wobbly and uncertain, you try your best to make your words seem kinder, as to not offend clarisse again. “Well, I guess I never asked but.. Oh.” Clarisse's words end as she parts her lips. She's realised her error. And so had you. You let out a breathy chuckle and say “maybe this time you should actually ask me.'' Clarisse looks at you with much more confidence now, her infamous sly grin back on her perfect face. “Maybe that would be best, sweet girl.”

[lexosaurus]

Gym 101

In which Valerie forces Danny to go workout with her

[ao3]

Characters: Danny & Valerie Warnings: None Wc: 2,230

****

"You're not engaging your core, Danny. What do I keep telling you?" Valerie sighed and put down her weight. "You're going to fuck up your knees if you don't slow down and do this right."

"And I keep telling you I don't even know what that means!" Danny snapped, not for the first time this week and probably not the last.

When he told Valerie that he, Danny Fenton, was also Danny Phantom, Danny had been expecting Valerie to be so mad at him that she never wanted to speak to him again.

And, well, she had been that mad at him. Very mad, in fact. So pissed, that for a minute, Danny was worried she was going to blast him off her roof.

He hadn't stuck around long after that.

And while he was beginning to make himself comfortable in the campground called, "Valerie's Cold Shoulder," he barely had two days to settle in before she had seemingly decided that enough was enough. 

Just before homeroom began, she strode to him in the hall, pulled him to the side—literally, she yanked him around the corner by his shirt sleeve—and demanded they start hitting the gym together.

"Because," Valerie had explained at his whining, and not patiently either, "I get that you have ghost powers, but your human half is such a twig. Seriously, Danny, do you know how much you're holding yourself back right now? If you actually tried strength training, I bet you'd level up pretty hardcore in ghost fights. Who knows? You might be able to train your reflexes to dodge one of Skulker's blasts from time to time."

And well, that bruise to both Danny's ghostly ego and his human teenage boy ego had been all he needed to agree to start working out with none other than his former rival turned ally, Valerie Gray.

"Stand up straight," Valerie ordered, pulling him back to his present world of pain.

He had no idea how Jazz and his mom liked doing this stuff. At the current moment, he was pretty sure the person who invented the concept of lifting weights was a giant masochist because there was simply no way in hell anyone throughout history would have ever said, "You know what sounds like the most fun thing ever? Let's take heavy objects, lift them, do a little movement, and then put them back down in the same spot we lifted them from!"

But apparently, he was the weirdo for not understanding why there was a dedicated fanbase of people who put a metal bar on their back, put some weights on the sides of the bar, squatted into a crouch, and then stood back up.

And repeated the process.

Again.

And again.

And again. Ten times, resting, and then ten more times.

Danny weakly stood, gripping the bar behind his shoulders like it was the only thing tethering his will to live to this plane of existence, and glared at Valerie through sweaty bangs. "Okay, standing. What next?"

"We godda fix your core."

"Be my guest," Danny said. He wasn't even sure if Valerie could fix something he'd never had to begin with, but if she truly wanted to, then...whatever. He'd lost by coming here, anyway.

Valerie scrutinized him as if he was some sort of science project that wasn't quite working out how she'd hoped. Which, thinking about it for a moment, he figured that was probably exactly what he was to Valerie. 

Then, without warning, she put her hand on his stomach.

Now, Phantom was largely considered a very suave and cool hero. Well, maybe Sam and Tucker would disagree, and sure there was a whole TikTok tag dedicated to videos of him falling into random objects, but still. There were enough random people around who would agree that Phantom was at least somewhat socially sufficient.

But Fenton on the other hand was very much not. He was an awkward, goofy teen. He wasn't popular, and he didn't exactly have a lot of girls fawning over him at every turn.

Which was why Valerie, his former girlfriend who maybe he still had some deeply buried feelings for, touching him so casually was setting off all sorts of alarm bells in his brain.

"...got it?" Valerie was saying.

Certainly, she had said something.

Something that Danny was supposed to be listening to.

Oh, shit. 

"Uh..." Danny tried to re-circuit his brain.

"Here, follow my lead. Okay? Breathe," she said. "Good. Now, tighten your abs."

Danny tried his best to follow.

"No, see, you're sucking in. Tightening your abs doesn't mean sucking in. It's like, okay, think of it this way. Try hardening your abs into a brick wall. Like, squeeze them together. Now—yeah, like that. Now, can you try adding your side and lower back into that brick wall too?"

"Try adding what?"

The corners of Valerie's lip twitched up. "The sides of your stomach? You have abs there too. And there are muscles in your lower back. That's all part of your core too. Remember what I said about your core's job to keep your body stable? Those muscles are all important for that."

"Valerie, I think you're really overestimating how in shape I am. I didn't even know there was more than one ab muscle, much less that there were abs on the sides of my body."

"Well, you have them, ghost boy."

"Doesn't help much if I can't feel them."

Valerie rolled her eyes. "Well, just try your best."

"Yes, Ma'am." Danny did his best to follow her lead while also struggling to ignore the fact that her hand was still on his stomach. 

He was so glad Tucker wasn't here to see his face. He could only hope that Valerie had come to the conclusion that the redness he could feel burning from his cheeks was proof that he was way more out of shape than she thought he was. That was still pretty embarrassing, and likely not even all wrong, but he would take it over the truth.

"Okay, now reset your shoulders. Stop hunching so much," she said.

"But the bar feels weird," Danny defended.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll get used to it. Stop looking down so much. You want your spine to be straight."

"I know." 

Half of what Valerie had been telling him for the past week was to straighten his spine. He couldn't help it if his back was a visual representation of his many years of late-night gaming. 

"Okay, now squat down." She leaned forward, and her dark eyes were just inches from his own. "No—look at me the whole time. Don't drop your eyes to your feet."

Oh, his face was burning burning now.

He slowly lowered his body, focusing on staying balanced as best as he could. Having a bar on his back was still a new sensation, and Valerie was refusing to let him load any weight onto it. Apparently, everyone started from an empty bar until they got the hang of the motion. Danny wasn't sure if that was something Valerie was just saying to be nice to him, or if that was actually true. 

He did try asking, and she just got offended that he would dare think so low of her that she would lie about something gym-related, and then she told him to stop screwing around and focus on the exercise.

So, it was fifty-fifty at this point.

"Keep going down," Valerie instructed, stepping back and thankfully removing her hand from him in the process.

Seriously, that had been the longest several seconds of his entire life and half-life combined.

"But I thought you weren't supposed to go past ninety degrees or something?" Danny asked from his invisible chair-like position in his squat.

"No, that's a lie. I think they just tell that to people who have butt-wink or bad mobility or something."

"The hell is butt-wink? See, now I just think you're making stuff up."

"I'm not! It's actually something you're doing right now." Valerie pointed at him in the mirror. "See how your pelvis is tucking in and curving your lower back? That's butt-wink." She moved to stand next to him and lowered down in a squat. "See my lower back? It's straight. This is how you want to be."

Danny wasn't aware that working out would just give him more things to be self-conscious about. He tried to straighten his lower back, but it was almost impossible to do so without feeling like he was going to fall on his ass. "Okay, then how do I fix that?"

"Well, I'm not exactly a doctor, so I'm sure it could be caused by a few different things. But the most common one I've heard is that butt wink happens when your core is shit. But it could also just as likely be an ankle and hip flexibility issue too."

Danny rolled his eyes. "As we've established, my core is shit. And I'm not flexible at all. "

"Yeah, I know," Valerie lamented. "I can't believe you've been fighting as Phantom for all these years and you haven't gone to the gym even once. Isn't Sam really into working out or something? Why didn't you ask to be her gym buddy?"

"Because I value my life." Danny paused. "My half-life, whatever. Tucker worked out with her once to prepare for the President's fitness test they did freshmen year, and I didn't stop hearing about it for months. She's ruthless."

"You know what, I believe that."

"Yup," Danny grunted, lowering to do another squat.

Two down, about five million more to go.

People actually enjoyed lifting weights? They came to the gym willingly? As in, of their own volition?

They seriously sweated and lifted heavy objects in a room surrounded by a bunch of equally sweaty, smelly strangers who were lifting other objects? 

And they thought it was fun?

That seemed absurd.

Valerie scrunched her nose at him.

"What?" Danny asked, his voice teetering past the line between speaking normally and whining, but he was far too exhausted to care. "Why are you looking at me like that? What am I doing wrong now?"

"No, it's just—" Valerie tilted her head. "Try widening your stance more. And maybe try pointing your toes out a little bit. That should help with your form. I mean, ideally, your ankle mobility would be better, but given it's pretty shit right now, this might be the best fix."

"God, I'm hopeless. Just give me the word and I'll leave."

"Oh, stop. You're not hopeless. You just need to stretch more. And train more."

Danny shuffled his feet and bent down into another squat. Having a wider stand did make the squat feel easier, but he wasn't about to admit that to her. "No, I am definitely hopeless. It'll be a blow to my ego, but I think I can emotionally recover if I leave the gym right now."

Valerie punched his arm, though it had no real power to it. She'd long since stopped legitimately trying to hurt him. 

Nevertheless, he would have sooner let Skulker capture him than pass up an opportunity to verbally torment Valerie. "Wow, I can't believe my ally is trying to beat me up and murder me in public. Especially while I'm trying to better myself in the gym."

"Oh, shut up." Although she tried to look angry, Danny could see the corners of her lips quirk into a smile. "Alright, your form is looking a lot better. It's still not perfect, but it's way better than when we started."

"Thank god."

"Maybe in a few weeks we can start adding plates."

A few weeks?

He must have let his internal expression show, because she once again snapped with, "It's normal for people to only squat the bar when they first start. It's way more important to get proper form than to lift heavy. You see that guy over there?"

She nodded across the room at a man doing chest presses. He was using weights that Danny could only dream of, pumping them up and down with a confidence that Danny was sure rivaled even Dash.

So the man looked alright to Danny, but apparently, that was the wrong conclusion to come to, if Valerie's critical eye was any judge.

"See how his elbows are basically straight out from his body? And see how he's not extending his arms all the way when he presses? He's rushing through the exercise. It's bad form, and while it may feel cool to lift heavy, bulky weights, if you can't even do the exercise properly, you just end up looking like a fool." She turned back to him. "Remember, you're in a gym. That means you're surrounded by people who have been doing this shit for years. Trust me when I say you're not going to impress anyone by rushing through the exercises to try to look cool."

"Aye-aye, captain."

It wasn't like he was going to impress anyone with the way he was wobbling while attempting to squat the naked bar, anyway.

"Alright, that's enough of a rest, I think. This time, let's actually do eight reps."

"Literal torture."

"Keep the whining up, and I might just call my blaster out."

Danny could see it in her eyes that she wasn't joking.

And so, he began.

****

[read more of my fics here]

[slasherscream]

I don't normally like make requests from people if it's obvious I'm sorry for my awkwardness.

Anyway you were saying how you were really into Jordan li recently so am I and I've read every single fanfiction or every rant there is about them and I crave more. I have been in a angst/fluff mood and I haven't seen anyone do this idea either. I was thinking thinking maybe Jordan and reader gets into an argument (not really picky about what) and the argument gets really heated (you know how jordan shifts into their male form to Intimidate or get their point across) Jordan shifts into their male form which scares reader (I'm thinking reader doesn't have a good past with angry men) and reader backs away from them in fear Jordan notices and tries to comfort them but reader flinched when Jordan touches them. Reader then asks them to leave so they do but Jordan spends like a week trying to make the situation better.

(I would also like to put reader isn't scared of Jordan more so the action of the blatant Intimidation tactic they tried to use against reader. Reader is angry that jordan would try to scare them even if it wasn't on purpose it still hurt)

Jordan sorta just spends a week following reader around Like a lost puppy trying to treat reader like a absolute queen even if reader won't really acknowledge them until Jordan has an breakdown while drunk coming to readers dorm begging for forgiveness.

Again if its obvious I don't know how to make requests I'm sorry this has just been on my mind for so long.

A/N: this request is absolutely perfect, and exactly to my tastes. thank you for sending it, doll!

WORD COUNT: 4k+ under cut | hurt/comfort and angst/fluff

It’s hard sometimes, knowing when to push and when to just let Jordan be. Not at all a skill you learned over night. You’d gotten good at the push and pull of bringing them out of their shell back when the two of you had just been friends. Better at it than anyone else, at least. It was a slow process, but every second was worth it.

Now on the good days you don’t have to push at all. A hand on their arm. A coaxing smile or two. Any act of connection, no matter how small, enough to make them tell you what’s on their mind. Even if they scowl the entire time they let it out. It’s the letting it out at all that counts. Progress!

Today you miscalculated. It’s been a bad week. Jordan hadn’t dropped in the rankings, but their points took a small dip. They hadn’t been very active on their socials, busy doing work as Brink’s TA. But the point gap between where Jordan sits at #2 in the rankings, and where Andre sits at #3 is still a wide open chasm. 

It’d take something truly disastrous to knock Jordan from the spot they’ve held for three years now. But the rankings are more important than anything to Jordan. No matter how gently you try to bring logic into the situation, Jordan gets irritated quickly, accusing you of not taking it seriously. You often wonder how that could be, considering you’re in the top eight yourself, but you bite your tongue and don’t bring it up.

The group had tried to go out for lunch. It was okay at first, everyone making an effort to ignore the storm cloud Jordan cast over the table as they picked at their food. Then Andre had made some type of stupid joke. Not even about the rankings, but enough to make Jordan snap at him. The situation escalated so quickly that Cate had threatened to take off her glove and make everyone shut up. You paid your portion of the bill and dragged Jordan out before anyone could start up again. 

And now you’re here, somehow also on the shit list for not being supportive enough. As if being supportive isn't everything you do. Day in and day out.

“I can’t believe you’re taking his side. You don’t honestly think it was an innocent comment, do you?” Jordan snaps, standing up from your couch to pace the length of your dorm room. 

“You know how Andre is. He gets sarcastic when he’s hungover, and he was packing a double whammy. He did coke and got drunk last night. He was just a little off. He wasn’t making a real dig at you.” You defend your friend, knowing Jordan will regret what she said at lunch once she’s calmed down. 

“Oh, so we’re all just supposed to tiptoe around his highness? If he was gonna be a dick during the entire thing he should have just skipped coming out with us.” Jordan’s eyes narrow in on your expression, the sudden pursing to your lips and looking away. “What?” She snaps.

You take a deep breath at the tone, “Well, Jordie, if you want me to be honest Andre wasn’t the only one who wasn’t on their best behavior today.” 

A beat of silence.

You look up and there goes Jordan rolling her shoulders back, eyebrows practically in her hairline and you sigh. You definitely should have brought up her attitude later. 

“You really are taking his side!” She scoffs in disbelief. 

“Nope. No, I am not, there are no sides. We’re all friends. Friends fight. I’m just trying to remind you that you actually are friends. You can’t just…” You trail off, uncertain. 

“I can’t just what?” She throws up her hands, volume raising. 

“You can’t act like this every time the rankings do something that isn’t spectacular for you. I know they mean a lot to you but you can’t take the numbers out on the people who care about you.”

“You just don’t get it-”

“But I do get it! We talk about it all the time. Your feelings are completely valid, the way you react to them isn’t. You’ve been giving Andre looks that could kill all week and he didn’t even do anything. If he was a little snappy at lunch, maybe he’s upset that his friend has been treating him like shit over something he barely cares about.” 

“Well if I’m so-” Jordan shifts, pitch of his voice deepening, on the verge of yelling, “-fucking awful why don’t you go run to Andre and cry about it together?” 

He only takes two steps towards the couch before you use your powers. It’s instinct, the way the forcefield bubbles up around you. 

Whatever Jordan was going to say next shrivels up and dies on his tongue. The only sounds in the room are the quiet hum your powers make when you use them, and the scared, panicked gasp you make from inside the forcefield you put up to protect yourself from him.

There’s a second where the two of you just stare at each other. Both in shock. 

“Baby-” Jordan tries taking another step forward, a small, barely there shuffle of his foot. His face falls when the forcefield gets a little louder, glows a little brighter. 

Jordan looks close to tears. It’s that expression that pulls you out of the animal state of fear you’d fallen into. You look away from them. Take a few heaving breaths. Do your best to not mix up faces of the past with your present and future.

Your forcefield flickers out slowly. A concentrated effort. 

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- I would never ever-'' Jordan shifts again. She rushes too fast into your space to kneel on the ground in front of you, her hands reaching for yours, desperate and clumsy.

When you flinch away, moving so you’re perched on the armrest of the couch, still trying to calm yourself down, she’s left with her hands grasping at air. “Baby, look at me. Please? Look at me, I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry. I would never hurt you. I fucking swear I wasn’t-”

“I know, Jordan.” You shake your head, trying to stay calm. “Could you please….leave? I… I can’t calm down right now. I’m trying. I know you didn’t mean to… to scare me, but I need you to go.” 

“Baby, wait, fuck. Fuck, wait! I’m sorry. Let’s just talk. I can’t leave you alone like this. I’m sorry.” She’s panicking now, throat feeling like it’s closing up. 

She doesn’t try to reach for you again, but her hands feel like they’re burning from the effort it takes to keep them away from you. It’s instinct to hold you, to make it better, to pull you closer. She’s always been the place you run to when you’re scared, the shield you step behind when you need to feel safe. She doesn’t know what to do when you don’t even want to be near her.

“We’ll talk later. I’ll… I’ll have Cate come over so I’m not alone. Just.. leave.” Your voice breaks on a sob, and you’re begging her to leave, and that’s what makes Jordan head to the door, legs shaking. She’s never made you cry before. 

She’s glued to her phone the rest of the day, waiting for you to call. You don’t. 

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

You’ve been best friends since you were freshman. You haven’t gone longer than two days without talking in all that time since. No matter how busy you are. No matter how shitty either of you feels. Jordan doesn’t know what to do with the hours of the day that you usually fill. 

She breaks on the second day when you show up to class and move to sit by Luke on the other side of the room instead of with her. You don’t even look at her as you walk by. 

Class doesn’t start for another five minutes. The teacher isn’t even here yet, and she’s always late. Jordan moves to get up, already feeling like she’s choking on all the words she needs to say to you to fix this, but is stopped by a firm grip around her wrist. She’s about to snap when she realizes it’s Cate, taking up your usual spot in the seat that isn’t up for grabs because it’s Your Seat. 

“Don’t make the situation worse. She just wants to go to class. Don’t hound her, Jordan.”

“Hound her?” Jordan’s voice raises, incredulous. “She’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her.” 

“You need to apologize.” Cate bites. “Dick.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped me.” Jordan speaks through gritted teeth.

“How about you try apologizing after she’s done all her classes? That way, when you inevitably upset her, she doesn’t hole herself up in her room all day crying. And feel bad about missing class on top of it. You know… the way she spent all of yesterday?” 

“She cried all day?” Jordan’s shoulders sag, voice getting smaller. 

Cate softens, patting Jordan’s hand.  “It’s not just about you, and you know that. Triggers like this really fuck with people. And she’s also pissed that she’s triggered in the first place. Let her cool off.”

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

He makes it a few hours before he’s trailing after you. 

He can tell by the tension in the line of your spine that you know he’s there. But you don’t outright tell him to get lost, so Jordan can’t stop himself from following you around. Even if you don’t want him there. 

He sits across from you as you study in the library. Makes puppy dog eyes at you the entire time. He can’t be bothered to unpack his bag. It’d be useless to pretend he’ll do anything besides watching you.  

Two hours in, he gets up and leaves, hating the way your shoulders relax as he turns to go. 

He comes back twenty minutes later with your favorite foods and drink from the best local coffee shop. You don’t reach for any of it. He’s always loved how stubborn you are, how you stick to your ideas. Your principles. How steadfastly you make up your mind. Right now he’s just a little terrified of that same stubbornness. Remembers when you’d only been friends, that first year of peeling one another open, feeling each other out. 

(“I’ll never do it, Jordan.” You’d whispered vehemently, drunk and mad and beautiful. 

“Do what?” 

“Be with anyone who tries to fucking cow me into submission. It’s fucked. I won’t do it. I’ve had enough of it.” 

You’d passed the bottle you’d just had pressed to your lips and Jordan had tried not to think too hard about it, even when he tasted the remnants of your sticky, sweet lip gloss beneath the vodka.) 

He doesn’t get up to leave again until you do. 

Jordan walks you to your dorm, but trails a few steps behind you. He tried walking directly beside you at first, but your hands brushed together and the look you gave him was cold enough to freeze blood. 

So-

-behind it is. 

Jordan doesn’t get the chance to say goodnight before you slam the door in his face as loudly as possible.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Jordan doesn’t push her luck by trying to walk you to your classes the next morning. She does wake up extra early to buy you the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers she could find. She leaves them outside your door and goes to class, hoping you’ll at least acknowledge her, the next time you see her.

During your first shared class of the day you walk in holding the bouquet of flowers. Jordan perks up in her seat, holding her breath. You do finally look at her. You make direct eye contact as you throw the flowers into the trash can at the teacher’s desk.

Jordan does not break her pen in half when Andre whispers “yikes” under his breath.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

Two more days and Jordan feels like he’s going insane. He knows you feel worse. One glance at the carefully nonchalant expression you’ve worn all week tells him that. Putting on a mask is nothing for you. That look is the first thing you learned how to do in the top ten. 

You’d never hidden the way you felt around him before. Not like this. His skin keeps buzzing with the urge to corner you. Jordan needs the two of you to talk about what happened. But he’s already walking the world’s thinnest line. 

And he knows he can’t force you, if you’re not ready. 

Another thing he knows: when you’re this upset you don’t clean. Simultaneously, when your room gets messy your depression gets worse. He skips one of your mutual classes of the day and lets himself into your dorm with the key you gave him during first year. 

Jordan looks around, wincing at the chaos. You never let it get this bad. Not even during your most soul crushing finals. He starts by throwing away the trash. The tissues you wiped your tears with. The takeout containers. Pages of your notebooks you ripped out, carelessly thrown around the room. You take awful notes in class when you’re distracted. He hates that he’s distracting you.

He wipes down every surface with your favorite scented cleaner. Dusts your books. Sweeps and mops. Changes your sheets and grabs the brightest, happiest color comforter you have stashed in your closet to put on the bed. As he adjusts the pillows he thinks about how often you spend the night at each other’s dorms. Jordan wonders if you’ve been struggling to sleep like he has. 

He hesitates, but goes to his room down the hall to grab his cologne. He spritzes it lightly over the bed and hopes you still find the way he smells comforting. 

Next is your laundry. He starts up a few loads, irons and puts away the clothes that were sitting in a wrinkled heap on your couch. You’ve always hated doing your laundry. 

He’s heading back to your room, a full laundry basket of clean clothes under each arm when you run into each other.

“Are those my clothes?” You ask, forgetting that you aren’t exactly speaking to him in your moment of confusion. 

“Yeah… I’m… I was cleaning my room. Doing some stuff. Figured I’d do a few of your loads too, while I’m already at it.” He shoots for casualness, knows he fails miserably.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say, words stiff and uncomfortable. 

“I know I just…” Jordan shrugs, relieved to be standing within a few feet of you after days of silence, and feeling pathetic over how happy something so small makes him. “Why don’t you go get something to eat with Cate while I finish up here?” 

“Finish up what?” You ask.

“I still gotta put these away.” 

You sigh, wanting the conversation to end, “You don’t have to put my clothes away, Jordan. Or wash them. I’m quite capable of doing it myself.”

Jordan takes a step back when you make a reach for one of the baskets under his arms. “I know that! Just let me do it. Doing your laundry always pisses you off. I’ve got it.” 

A battle of wills ignited. You, staring him down. Jordan, trying not to squirm. He wants to try apologizing again but doesn’t know if he’ll only make it worse.

“Please, baby? Go somewhere nice with Cate. My treat.” He puts down a laundry basket (behind him, so you can’t take it) to grab his phone from his pocket, and does something you can’t see. 

When you hear the particular chime your banking app makes when you get a Zelle deposit you roll your eyes. You don’t bother checking your phone and seeing how much he sent. You know it’s too much. But if you say anything he’ll just say you and Cate have expensive tastes (which…true.)

“Maybe you can catch a movie too? I still gotta finish up with your bathroom.” 

“Jordan.” 

“Just,” Jordan shifts, putting down the other laundry basket and slowly reaching out to grab your hand with hers. She could almost cry when you let her touch you. “I know you’re fucking pissed at me. And I know you’re still too upset to talk about it. But…. fuck, please just let me take care of you. Please. I have to do something. I can’t just sit around, after I made you feel like this. It’s driving me nuts. I’m supposed to-” 

You stop her, putting a hand on her cheek and sighing, “Okay, Jordan. I’ll go hang out with Cate while you finish.” 

“Don’t ‘hang out’, go get dinner. You haven’t eaten all day.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.” She says, sullen and staring up at you, playing with your fingers while you’re still letting her touch you, the first time in days. 

“I’ll head to Cate’s.” 

“Nah, head to Luke’s. They’re studying together right now.” Jordan takes a risk, stepping into your space slowly, giving you the time to move away. She leans in and kisses your cheek, gentle. When you don’t move away she can’t help herself, kisses the edge of your lips too. 

You don’t kiss her back, but you give her hand a squeeze as you pull away. You stop halfway down the hall before you turn back to look at Jordan. “Call Cate and tell her she better not be fucking Luke by the time I get to his dorm.” 

Jordan laughs. Your face is a little more relaxed as you turn away this time.

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

On Friday the group goes out to the club. They chose one of your favorite haunts, hoping it would entice you enough to join. You still declined the invitation. Everyone knew you would. They still wanted to try. 

You claimed you had a lot of work to catch up on. 

“She hates me. She fucking hates me.” Jordan groans into his hands, already three drinks and two shots in. 

“Well, let’s not panic.” Luke says. 

“Or be dramatic.” Andre snorts, taking a shot of his own. “You two are obsessed with each other. Relax.” 

“Relax?!” Jordan tenses, “My girl won’t fucking talk to me. How am I supposed to relax?” 

“She talked to you yesterday.” Andre drawls. 

“That wasn’t anything. We usually-”

“-Spend every free second of the day together? We know.” Luke teases. When Jordan doesn’t even smile he winces and slides him another shot. 

“She’s not even that mad. She’s more upset than anything.” Cate says, cuddling into Luke’s side. 

Jordan’s eyes follow the movement and he swallows at the distinct lack of your own weight leaning into him. You always get touchy when you’re tipsy. Climbing on top of him, clinging to him like glue. It’s his favorite part of nights out together. That and the playful booing you guys get from the group. 

Andre cuts back in, “I’m serious, dude. Relax! You guys have been together for how long now-”

“Three years.”

“-yeah, exactly. Since the fucking building of the pyramids. You two will be fine. She knows you didn’t mean anything by it. One fight won’t kill you.” 

“This wasn’t a fight, though. I fucked up! You didn’t see the look on her face. When she used her powers… I mean, fuck! You know? She was scared of me.”

“You know that’s not true, Jordan.” Luke protests. 

Jordan runs his hands through his hair, ruining the carefully slicked back style.

“Let’s just get you another drink. Come on, dude.” Andre wraps an arm around Jordan, hauling him to his feet and pulling him towards the bar. 

⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊⬈⬊

You get woken up by the sound of knocking on your door. Loud knocking. You keep your eyes closed, hoping whoever it is will go away. You don’t even want to be awake. Let alone socializing. 

The knocking gets louder. Exhausted, you drag yourself out of bed. You glance at your phone on the bedside table as you get up. It’s three in the morning. Now you’re exhausted and pissed. 

You stomp over to the door, wrenching it open, prepared to cuss someone out. You deflate when you see who it is. “Oh, hey.”

Jordan is leaning heavily on the door frame, staring at you with watery, red eyes. She looks like the walking dead. “Baby. Fuck, did I wake you up? I thought you’d still be awake. You said you were pulling an all-nighter.”

“I was tired. Just wanted to sleep.” You shrug. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Still at the club, took an uber back. Too fucked up for anything else.” She mutters.

“That’s good, Jordan.” You say. 

“You haven’t called me Jordan since freshman year. What happened to Jordie?” She sighs. 

Your face softens. “Baby…”

“No, wait, just let me…” Jordan leans her forehead against the door-frame, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. I fucked up big time. I’m sorry that when I get pissed I take it out on everyone around me. I’m sorry that I don’t fucking listen when you’re just trying to make me feel better. I’m sorry I yelled… I’m sorry I shift-”

“Whoa, hey.” You cut her off, shocked. “You shifting isn’t the problem, Jordan. Fuck, come inside, honey.” You say, taking her hand and pulling her inside. 

You sit the two of you on the couch, clicking on the light so you can see each other. You move so you’re facing each other, pulling her hands into your lap. “First off let’s set one thing straight. You shifting is never the problem, okay?” 

“You got so fucking scared.” Jordan looks away, hair falling into her face.

“Not of you.. Just the fucking… optics of it! I don’t ever want you to be something you’re not. And you’ve got the incredible gift of being able to be whatever you feel like being any time you want to.” You reach out and touch her cheek, guiding her to look at you, “I don’t want you to not do that. I wouldn’t ever want you not to do that, okay?”

“Okay.” She says. There’s a moment of silence, then Jordan shifts. He looks for any sign of fear or hesitation, holding his breath. When he doesn’t see any he relaxes. “But I scared you so bad you used your powers.” 

“Yeah, that did happen.” You nod, caressing his cheek with your thumb, “Maybe it’s just a little scary when someone bigger and stronger than me starts yelling like that. Also, invulnerable. Let’s not forget that. Food for thought.” 

He closes his eyes, “I’m an idiot.” 

“For yelling at me? Yeah, just a little. Don’t yell at me like that no matter what form you’re in. That's always scary. Couples talk. They don’t yell. Most of the time. We can’t be the couple that does that.”

“I’ll never yell like that again. Either form. I promise.” Jordan says, “Can I hold you? It’s been a fucking week. I’m losing my mind.” 

You laugh, climbing into his lap and Jordan sighs, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. He tucks your head into his neck. “I missed you like fucking crazy.” 

“Missed you too.” You sigh, “Stay the night?” 

“You’re not leaving my sight for the next two months.” He laughs, pulling you closer.

“Only two months? That’s fucked up, I thought you missed me.” You tease. 

“Shut up.” He scoffs, kissing the side of your head. 

You snuggle closer, letting the tension of the week drift away.

“You yell at me like that again and your only hope is being invulnerable, actually. I’ll put you through a wall.” You kiss his shoulder cheerfully. 

“I’d do it before you got the chance.”

You burst into laughter and he pulls your head away from his shoulder so he can see you the way you’re supposed to look around him. Happy. Content. He can’t stop himself from kissing you. You can’t stop yourself from kissing back. 

[slut4daviii]

character(s): g.tomioka

pt(s): 01/02

cw: cheating, cum-eating, masturbation

summary: idk but giyuus husband is cheating and giyuu is fantasying about his neighbor. one thing will lead to another and you’ll find that forgetting an anniversary will never end will for the forgetting party

a/n: hi. | minors and non-male aligning DNI

title: anniversary sex

wc: 1250+

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scandalous.

he knew his thoughts were everything but pure.

scandalous.

he knew his thoughts should only pertain to his own husband and the life they’d built together.

scandalous

but… he couldn’t. he couldn’t keep his eyes from the widow. couldn’t keep his thoughts from wandering; forming indecent images and scenarios.

his thighs pressed inwards at the situations created by his imagination. each one a different position, different pose; exploring each other’s bodies, igniting new passion into one another.

“haa— hah! [n—name]…!” he’d moan into your chest, dragging his fingers down your back in such a crude, indecent manner.

you’d groan into his neck, inhaling the fresh scent of his shower, the fruity scent still lingering from the perfume he spent seventy dollars on. just for you.

you’d press yourself deeper into him, embedding your tip into his womb. “ahh!” a high-pitched yelp. he would put his hand on your v-line, trying to stop your movements.

you’d only go harder, dismissing his mindless mumbles of “ngh!! t—too… too de—ep! s—sl—slow d..d—down!!”

he would know.

you would know.

his husband would know.

everyone would know.

that he wanted it. just how you gave it to him; slow, deep, mind-breaking stokes that left him breathless at every thrust.

“you wanted this, right? watched me from your widow. rubbing yourself to my form, hoping I’d come and sweep you away from your husband.”

he’d choke on his words, clawing at you for any sort of support. his eyes would roll backwards, an orgasm rippling between the two of you, staining your chests in a sticky white substance.

“Gi—“

you’d move your fingers to his chest, lifting his legs to his shoulders in the process. your fingers would slid along his abs, soaking up his spewed semen and bringing it to his—

“Giyuu”

—mouth, forcing him to taste his own—

“Giyuu!”

—seed. he’d moan around your fingers, the salty taste of himself pushing him over—

“GIYUU!!”

Giyuu pulled back from the sink, dropping the cup he held in his hand, shattering it.

his husband stood across the short kitchen distance with a briefcase in hand. he adjusted his tie, tugging on the fabric to adhere to his neck.

“Giyuu, where was your mind? I’ve been calling your name for five minutes.” the man chuckled

Giyuu smiled, glancing back to the window before snapping his vision back to his husband. “J…just thinking of our anniversary.”

his husband hummed, closing the buttons of his suit. “anniversary?” he chuckled, burning a hole into Giyuu’s chest. “our anniversary was two months ago.”

Giyuu glanced at the calendar on his refrigerator, looking at the heart over today’s date.

His husband followed the look, panic rushing through his body. “Uh—uhm I mean, I, I was thinking of your birthday..!”

‘my birthday was two days ago.’ he thought

Giyuu looked back to the window, no longer seeing the picture of his fantasies. ‘where’d [name] go?’

his husband came behind him, palming his ass and resting his chin on Giyuu’s shoulder, disregarding his obvious discomfort. “are you mad at me?” his husband moaned into his ear, harshly rubbing his front against Giyuu’s back.

Giyuu remained silent, earning a harsh thrust “oh, I’m sorry Giyuu, I’ve just been so busy. but, I promise, when I get back, we’ll celebrate all you want.”

“Get back? where are you going?” Giyuu asked softly, not surprised by his husband’s actions.

“I have a business meeting with Rengoku. It’ll last a week. I’m sorry!”

Giyuu nodded, moving away from the man to pick up a banana from the table. “Well, you better go now, I forgive you.”

his husband smiled, placing a quick peck on his forehead. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

Giyuu nodded, undoing his apron to take a shower.

“oh! I called [name] over to fix the sink, he should be over later.”

Giyuu stopped his movements, feeling heat rush to his face. “ok, love you.”

as fast as his husband had entered the kitchen, he was gone, leaving with only a distracted “mhm.”

Giyuu continued to his room, removing the rest of his clothing to begin his showering process. he pulled a basket from under his sink labeled ‘[name]’ and continued on his way, reliving his fantasy from earlier.

he felt a smile etch its way onto his face, burning into his features

“I’ll see [name] soon…

[sleepyxxhead]

thinking about boyfriend!nanami who would cut fresh fruit for you while you're studying/working.

your eyes burned from the light of the computer screen that you had been staring at for god knows how many hours at this point. your fingers tapped away at the small keys on the keyboard, too fast for you to process what you were typing. every once in a while you'd quickly scribble something down on your notepad that you knew would be too messy to read later.

you could hear nothing but the tap tap tap's of your keyboard when the sound of a small knock at your door filled your ears. "y/n darling?" your boyfriend muttered, almost too soft to hear over the quier creak of the door opening.

"hm?" you hummed, finger barely slowing down as you kept your eyes trained on the screen.

you heard your boyfriend pad over to your desk, right behind your chair. he placed a small plate of fruit next to your keyboard as his hand found your scalp, massaging it with slender fingers. he worked his hands down to your neck, slowly releasing the knots that had been building up even since you sat down many hours ago.

he leaned down to place a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. "how's it going?" the blonde murmured into your scalp.

fighting the urge to turn your head away from the computer, you replied with a small sigh, body automatically leaning into his touch.

"wanna take a break with me in a bit?" he whispered before pressing another kiss to your head.

"kentooo don't do this to me," you groaned, hiding your head in your hands. "you know i have to get this finished."

"come on, sweetheart. you need to take a break," your boyfriend said a bit more stern this time. "10 more minutes."

finally peeling your eyes away from the computer screen, you let out a small sigh. you turned your head to meet eyes with nanami, a small pout on your face. his eyes softened once they met your gaze. he let a small breath through his nose as he rubbed your cheek fondly with his thumb.

for a split second, you reminded yourself that your work wouldn't get done on its own, but your mind slowly succumbed to the gentle touch of your boyfriend.

at last, you surrendered with another small sigh, your voice barely above a whisper when you told him, "..ok."

something small to feed you guys while i work on flufftober week 4! yes i'm aware it's been two months and yes i'm so very sorry fjdksa;fds

have a nice day cutie <33

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Healing is Slow, but Inevitable (part 7)

Previous | Masterpost

“So, what are you?” Jason asked about a week after the meeting with Batman, a few days after Dick left again after his unscheduled weekend visit, and they hadn’t really talked about it. Danny had been flighty and tense for days afterwards so Jason hadn’t wanted to bring it up. Now that Danny seemed calm again, curled up in bed with him after a decent day and some great sex, it seemed like the best time he was going to get. 

Danny sighed and turned his head to hide his face against Jason’s shoulder for a moment, but he stayed relaxed and he wasn’t running, which were good signs. “I was kept prisoner for almost two years by the Ghost Investigation Ward, what do you think I am,” Danny muttered a little bitterly. 

“But you’re not a ghost, right? I mean you eat, and sleep and I can feel your heartbeat right now,” Jason said, pressing his hand Danny’s chest, where his heart was indeed beating, slower than most people’s but that was normal for Danny. Then, right under Jason’s hand, Danny’s heart stopped beating. 

Jason panicked and pulled back only for Danny to catch his wrist and keep his hand there, Danny pushed himself up a little and stared down at Jason. He seemed fully alive, and fine, even though his heart still wasn’t beating under Jason’s hand. Danny sighed and lay back down, the feeling of a heartbeat returning under Jason’s hand, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“I’m what’s called a Halfa. It’s a stupid name but I’m not going to come up with a new one. It’s not entirely accurate either, since I’m both 100% alive, and 100% dead.” He saw the lost look on Jason’s face and backed up quickly to explain more. “There’s a place called the Ghost Zone, or the Infinite Realms, it’s a world between worlds that links to every living world and contains every afterlife.” He was tracing little patterns on Jason’s chest as he talked. “Portals open to it in other worlds sometimes, natural things that form and collapse again quickly. 

“Halfas are made when one of those portals happen to open, directly on top of and into, a living person. It kills them, then because of the power of the realms their soul forms a ghost immediately, resurrects them and slams that fully formed ghost back into the living body, bonding them back together and creating a living-ish, ghost. I’m the only true halfa in existence right now, and I’m… unique, even for my kind. Because the portal that made me was the first man-made one, it was far more stable and more powerful than the natural ones, meaning that I got a double dose of energy.

“Halfas are already a powerful species, the perfect balance between life and death, a bridge between worlds partially immune to the weaknesses of both. But I’m strong even compared to other halfas, at least that’s what I’m told by the Ancients. Like I said, I’m the first one in about five thousand years, and the only one in existence right now, so I’ve never exactly met someone else like me.” 

“Holy shiit,” Jason whispered before falling silent. He started to comb his fingers through Danny’s hair so he would know Jason wasn’t upset or mad as he took a while to process all Danny had told him. “You don’t have to talk about it but if you’re that powerful then… how did the GIW manage to capture you?”

“My parents were the ones who captured me,” Danny murmured, hiding his face against Jason’s neck. Jason’t breath caught in his throat. “They were ghost hunters all my life, they built the portal but I didn’t want to hurt them. I was still trying to talk to them, to convince them I really was still their son. Then the GIW found out they had me and demanded my parents hand me over. When my parents refused and tried to defend ‘their discovery’ The GIW just… blew up the house. Because of my powers I survived, no one else did. While I was still in shock they took me.

“It broke my heart, in a literal sense. I want to show you something,” He said and sat up again, legs crossed. Jason sat up as well, mirroring Danny’s position and watching him curiously. “Humans have organs and brains and all those squishy, meaty bits. Ghosts have a core, it contains everything we are, everything else will just reform around it as long as the core is undamaged.” He pressed his hands against his own chest and after a moment, he drew something out. 

It was an orb of what looked like blue stone, but it was cracked, pretty extensively, in a similar pattern of cracking to Danny’s lightning scar. “What they did, it cracked my core,” Danny said looking down at it baleful. “Literally broke me. If I was a full ghost it would have destabilized and ended me, my humanity kept me together. Which just meant more for them to experiment on,” He said with a bitter little laugh. 

“Danny,” Jason murmured, a heartbroken little sound as he sat forward and reached towards Danny. Danny tensed, and looked fearful for just a moment, but he didn’t pull away. Instead he opened his hands and held his core, his heart, out towards Jason. With permission Jason traced the branching pattern gently with a finger, it felt cool and smooth under his fingers, energy tingling in his fingertips and the cracks rasping slightly against Jason’s calluses. Danny shuddered and gasped as all the tension bled out of him under Jason’s gentle touch, his eyes fell closed, and his expression was peaceful now.

“It’s been getting better,” Danny said, opening his eyes again after a moment and looking up at Jason adoringly. “Since I met you, you gave me purpose again and I can feel the cracks healing, it’s slow, but it was always going to be.” 

Jason pulled his hand back and Danny pressed his core back to his chest. “I’m glad you’re healing. You’ve been helping me a lot too, healing is always slow, but we’ll do it together. And you’ll tell me if I ever make it worse, or if there’s anything I can do to help won't you?” 

“Ya we will, but I think I’m well enough to face the GIW soon. I’ll start looking for them along with your people. If they’re still around I don’t think it will take me that long to find them,” Danny told Jason softly. “As for helping, just don’t leave me, and don’t die. I don’t want to think about what I could become without you to ground me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll be right there with you when we take down the GIW. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I love you,” Jason promised, pulling Danny back against his chest.

“I love you too,” Danny sighed, snuggling against Jason tiredly.

-----------

Danny hadn’t been kidding when he said he would be able to find the GIW quickly when he started to look. It turned out that the GIW were sort of using ghosts in their firewall? It made it next to impossible for regular people to find, or hack it, but made it all the easier for Danny to track down. He found five bases besides the one that he had destroyed during his escape. Which was more than Jason had expected, though none of them seemed to be that big. According to the files two had ‘specimens’, so they were going to hit those two first and free whatever free whatever poor souls were still trapped there.

Jason had yet to leave Crime Alley since his takeover of the turf, but it would have to happen eventually. They would only be gone for one, maybe two days so it was a good first test. 

They had a basic plan; break in and rely on stealth till they had located the prisoners, release them, then cause as much damage and havoc as they could on the way out. Danny would be the power house, taking the chance to really let loose in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Jason would follow and plant explosives so once they got out they would leave nothing to salvage. 

They had a bit of a discussion about when to go. During the night there would be fewer people there making it safer to break in, but the disadvantage of that was they would take out fewer GIW agents. The fewer of those assholes still walking the earth the less likely it was anyone would come for Danny. There would be no one to continue the cycle of violence if everyone else was dead. In the end they still decided to go at night. If only because they would be less likely to walk in on someone actively being tortured, which would be too much for Danny. They needed to avoid Danny having a panic attack in enemy territory if at all possible.

So Jason wrangled his people into readiness to be left alone and keep things ticking over, and told a few selected people where they were headed in the unlikely case they needed rescue. Jason had started planning a ride too, since unlike the Bats they didn’t have their own private jet. But Danny told him there was no need, just get them out of Gotham and Danny could handle the rest. Jason was curious about what he meant by that, but when he asked Danny gave him the cheeky smile that promised it was a surprise Jason would like. Jason decided to wait and see.

Once they were ready they left Gotham at Sunset, Danny on the back of Jason’s bike with his arms tight around his waist and pressed against his back. Normally when they rode like this Jason could feel Danny’s vibrating purr against his back but today Danny was still and silent, probably too tense to purr. Jason understood, no matter what they found or how well this went it was bound to be triggering as hell. Danny was walking right back into one of the facilities where he had been experimented on and tortured. Jason didn’t think there was anything he could say to make Danny feel better, so he mostly stayed quiet and let Danny think his thoughts. 

“Okay, we’re far enough away I think. Pull over please, far enough that we won’t be easily seen from the road. I haven’t done this in… more than a year, I’m not totally sure how it’s going to go,” Danny said suddenly and Jason nodded, looking for a place to pull off the road and into the woods. Finding a good place to hide his bike, and themselves for whatever Danny was planning on doing.

Jason found a place to park his bike and let Danny get off before him, once they were off he laid the bike down where it wouldn’t be easily found, and turned on his personal tracker so he would be able to find it later. “Alright, ready when you are. I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been so mysterious about,” Jason encouraged his boyfriend, taking off his motorcycle helmet to switch it for his Red Hood one.

Danny nodded and took a few steps back and took a deep breath, “I really haven’t done this in years. Not since I escaped for the first time. It made it easier for them to track me,” Danny explained before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

As Jason watched Danny started to change, not all at once, but the appearance Jason knew started to flicker and fade in patches. It looked like he was molting, and like a computer glitching, leaving him looking… different. The shape of the costume was a lot like his Hyena get-up, but it was entirely monochrome, and this Hyena had been dead for a long time. The suit was black with start-white protruding ribs wrapped around his chest like armor, white knee and elbow pads, and a white stripe down the front of his boots added to the skeletal effect. Danny’s mask had turned from a muzzle to a Hyena skull with a tuft of white hair showing above it. When Danny opened his eyes they were pits of toxic green glowing from behind the Hyena’s empty eye sockets. 

Jason would have frozen up completely, if he hadn’t noticed Danny was swaying slightly. Jason jumped forward just in time to steady Danny before he could fall. Danny leaned against him, he felt cooler than usual and… insubstantial in an odd way. 

“That felt different then it used to,” Danny murmured, putting a hand to his forehead. He felt the mask and blinked before glancing down at himself. “Huh, I knew this form was connected to emotions and shit, but I didn’t expect it to change this much,” He murmured, running his hands over the mask and then back through his hair, pushing his hood back to show his hair was all white now, and moving like it was underwater. 

“What… is this?” Jason asked, combing his fingers through Danny’s hair which felt like the softest, unmelting, fresh fallen snow between his fingers.

“My ‘ghost form’. I told you I was as dead as I was alive, this is my dead form,” Danny said gesturing down as himself before fully gaining his footing and standing up on his own. He took off the mask (Jason was far more relieved then he’d admit that Hyena skull was a mask, he hadn’t been sure) and smiled at him. Danny still looked very much like himself, though his mouth was wider, his teeth were sharper and his skin had the very distinct deathly pallor of a frozen corpse. 

Jason gave a considering hum and cupped Danny’s face, leaning down to kiss him. His lips felt cool and there was no pulse against Jason’s lips, but they were soft and Danny kissed back with the same sweetness as always. “You look badass as hel,l Moonlight,” Jason told Danny who blushed a soft blue and smiled at him, pulling him back in for another quick kiss.

“Alright, like this I can get us to the base,” Danny said, pulling the mask back on before his feet lifted off the ground and he hovered a few feet up. “Carrying you should be no problem, we’ll be silent, and if needed I can cloak us. We just have to land a ways out because I’m sure they have ghost detectors and shields. I’ll have to change back to get through. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great,” Jason agreed easily. He’d been around the Supers for years as a kid, he was used to being carried like that.

“Great,” Danny cheered, swooping over Jason and grabbing him under the arms and lifting him up with no apparent effort. He held Jason as they took off towards base, Danny flew fast but Jason’s helmet protected his eyes from the wind so it was fine.for Danny to change back into his human form. It looked like reversed timelapse footage of a flower losing its petals. Jason watched in awe as the man he knew and loved reformed around this odd, pale being. 

When it was done Danny shook out his limbs and rolled his head on his neck like he was having to resettle himself in his body before he nodded firmly once. “Alright, let’s go,” Danny said, checking his mask one more time.

Jason nodded and made a hand sign to advance, reminding Danny from here on they wouldn’t be using words. Danny nodded and fell in just behind Jason as they approached the facility. They had found a weak point in the plans for ventilation and used that to get in. This place was clearly designed to keep things in more than out, and not with humans in mind, it was almost embarrassingly easy to sneak in. They hid as a couple of agents walked by, assholes in white coats and dark glasses, edgy as hell and obviously overly full of themselves. Jason was looking forward to ripping through them on the way back out.

As they moved through the building Jason planted bombs at strategic locations ready to be detonated once they had cleared the facility of anyone who actually deserved to live. They didn’t want to leave anything standing. The less of the information and weapons that survived to potentially fall into the wrong hands, the better.

In the labs on the lower floors they found a few ‘blob ghosts’ as Danny called them, and a bunch of equipment, a couple of which Danny helped himself to. Jason didn’t bother because he didn’t know what any of this stuff was, they’d probably do more harm than good in his hands. 

Deeper in the labs they found a few proper ghosts too, locked in cells Jason managed to hack and get open. Danny darted in and started murmuring softly to a woman he called Ember, and who called him Babypop with shock and grief before he used one of the tools he’d stolen to open some sort of portal and sent her on. He found a thing he called Shadow, but that one didn’t talk, and Jason didn’t see it though he believed Danny that it was there. Danny used the portal gun to send them on too.

They were reaching the end of the facility and Jason was glad they’d only found two sentient beings, he would have much preferred None but it could have been a lot worse. This was the largest facility so if they only had two actual ‘ghosts’ the others would probably have one at most. 

They moved through the rest of the labs quickly, staying just long enough to clear them of anyone who might be held there, but not lingering over metal tables, scalpels, lasers, and saws. Jason was trying not to think about Danny strapped down to one of those, cut open and either begging them to stop or dissociating and staring, he wasn’t sure which would be worse. 

Finally they reached the deepest room in the facility, Jason was expecting another lab, until he saw the security pad at the door. The previous labs had been in a complex, no codes or cards needed to get into each individual one once you were on the floor. What was special about this lab? The security was decent too, nowhere near as easy to get through as previous doors. 

“Keep watch Hyena, this is going to take a minute,” Jason murmured into their mic and Danny nodded, flitting to the end of the hall to keep watch while Jason worked on the security. 

It took him about fifteen minutes and thankfully no one came around, they must have hourly patrols or something. Danny glanced over at the sound of the door unlocking and Jason nodded, gesturing for him to come. He stepped inside, getting the full view of a room full of wires, monitoring equipment, and what looked like a cloning tube or stasis pod. Holy shit was the GIW somehow in league with CADMUS?

There was a girl floating in the tube, maybe fourteen or fifteen, small for her age. Her hair was black but he couldn’t see much else. He heard Danny come into the room behind him and let out a soft gasp.

“Oh god,” Danny breathed softly. Jason looked over at Danny expecting to see his own surprise reflected in Danny’s face. No, he was shocked, yes, but he looked heartbroken and horrified. There was absolutely recognition there. “Ellie.”

[castiwls]

enchanted .ᐟ

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'I'll spend forever wondering if you knew. I was enchanted to meet you'

Requested; @4catsinacult

Notes; the adhd is bad rn but I'm trying to get back into writing (its a slow process sadly)

also requests are open again!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

The last time you’d seen Sam Winchester you were 15. You’d been knee-deep in your own self-proclaimed ‘awkward phase’ that you’d spent the whole two weeks hiding from both him and his brother. 

However, you’d quickly found out that the younger Winchester was more than determined to befriend you before your time together was up. You’d been nothing short of a blushing, stuttering mess the first time he’d cornered you outside your dad’s motel room. He’d been quick to invite you to a diner with him and his brother claiming that he needed ‘company from someone who didn’t hit on anything that breathes’

Safe to say you’d been smitten almost immediately. Even at 15, you’d known that Sam Winchester was very possibly the guy of your dreams. He’d been…different to all the other boys your age, he’d rather talk about whatever book had been in your bag when you’d met at the diner over thinking of how long it would take to convince you to make out - a situation you were annoyingly more than used to. 

You’d spent those few weeks in your own little bubble almost. You’d finally found someone who had taken a genuine interest in you yet all that wonder had been over shadowed by the fact that these feelings were teenage feelings. 

You’d simply put your feelings down to heightened teenage emotions and you’d pushed down the hurt upon leaving the two once the hunt had been over.

8 Years later Sam Winchester was but a distant memory. You’d briefly heard through contacts that both were still alive and in the businesses (something which filled you with more relief than you'd ever admit) yet physically they were nothing but two ghosts of your past.

You’d never imagined the next time you’d come face to face with him would be over a dead body. The morge was only small - barely big enough for the two of you alongside the long table meaning that you had no choice but to stand uncomfortably close.

Sam, it seemed had only grown into his looks over the last ten years and you could only pray that the warmth that pooled in your stomach had not also become visible on your cheeks. 

“So…” You mused watching him inspect the body. “It’s been a while?”

Sam hummed looking up, a small smile pulling at his lips. His own heart had almost beat out of his chest when you’d appeared in the doorway and the sound of your voice after all this time only elevated it more. “Yeah.” He nodded mentally cursing himself as you both fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence. 

‘Yeah?’ You were finally in the same room as him after almost a decade and the only thing he could say was ‘yeah’. Talking to girls had never really been an issue yet suddenly coming face to face with you made him feel like an awkward 15-year-old again who could barely get out two words to a girl before turning bright red.

“I’m sorry about your dad.” You broke the silence, tapping your pen against the pad in your hand. Sam looked back up, placing his hands on the table. “Thanks.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, letting out a quiet breath. 

You both lapsed into quiet as he continued to look over the body while you noted anything of importance. “How did you find out about…” He gestured to the body as he binned his gloves. “Oh…your brother actually.” A frown tugs at your lips as you recall the phone call you’d received earlier in the day. “Said he was sick and didn’t want the case to go undelt with.” 

Sam’s eyebrows drew together for a moment as he thought. “Dean called you?” A frown pulled at his lips. Why would the dean have called you to help? He could well and truly handle this on his own….oh. 

A quiet groan left him as he pressed a hand to his head. Dean barely listened to him most of the time and the one time he does it's about a girl he had a crush on ten years ago. 

“You okay?” Concern flashed in your eyes as you followed him to the door. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine just…Dean being Dean.” He shook his head sending you a smile as he held the door.

“I’m guessing he’s not changed much, judging by that groan.” You teased lightly as you both passed the reception desk. Sam laughed. “No. No, he’s not changed at all, just about as mature as a 19-year-old still.”

A laugh left your own lips as you reached your car, leaning against it you turned to Sam. A quiet noise left you as you realised just now how close he suddenly was. You held up your notebook. “I…i can send you all the notes.” You mumbled, praying your cheeks weren’t currently burning up.

Sam nodded looking over your shoulder for a moment. “Yeah…yeah, that would be great.” You were so close, if he just shifted ever so slightly his chest would press against yours. 

He’d dreamt of being this close to you when you were both teenagers, but no dream could replace how it actually felt to have you less than an arm's reach away. Yet he still had absolutely no idea how you felt.

Throughout those two weeks you’d never once openly showed any sort of attraction - something which had given him more than one sleepless night. 

Even now, ten years later those feelings seemed to return, leaving him light-headed and struggling not to trip over his own words. 

Yet you seemed completely unbothered.

“We…we could go over them together?” You suggested after a moment. “If Dean’s sick i doubt you're gonna get any peace.” You took a breath waiting almost anxiously as he seemed to think it over.

Time seemed to stretch and you were just about to make an excuse to leave when he nodded. “Sure. I’d like that”

—

Three hours later you found yourself spread out over the covers of the motel's bed. A notebook was placed beside you as you slowly scrolled through an article on your laptop. 

Sam had taken residence on the small table, his own papers were strewn out across the surface. “You know it's funny, the last time I saw you, you were doing the same thing.” You smiled leaning your chin on your fist. 

‘It’s cute’ You thought to yourself as he chewed on a pen for a moment. He suddenly looked up, his eyes wide. “Did-” He pulled the pen from his mouth. “Did you say something?” His cheeks flushed slightly as he placed the pen down. You’d been quiet for so long he’d honestly forgotten that you were in the room. 

“I was just saying how it's funny the last time I saw you, you were doing the exact same thing.” You gestured to the table with your free hand. Sam hummed. “Well, when I was 15 I was doing school work, now I'm…” He looked down at the paper, raising an eyebrow. “Trying to find out if vampires are currently hunting.” He laughed slightly - the situation still being slightly insane even if you were both more than used to it.

You nodded, a comfortable silence covering the room as you both simply stared for a moment. Biting down on your lip you cleared your throat. “It's sweet.” The words leave your lips before you can process it and almost immediately you feel your cheeks heat. “It’s… it's sweet that you still enjoy it.” You stumbled over your words praying to whatever was above that the floor would just open up then and there.

Sam watched, his heart seeming to grow as you buried your face into your hands, your feet falling flat on the bed behind you. “I don’t know why I said that.” Your voice was muffled as you spoke.

Sam felt a smile grow as he closed his laptop - the sight of you flustered slightly too endearing. “No. No, it's fine.” He stood moving to sit beside you on the bed. You peaked up from your arms. 

You stifled slightly as his palm landed on your back, rubbing small circles. “I don’t think i’ve actually ever had anyone call me sweet so thats a new one.” He mused, his tone light. 

You laughed quietly, almost melting into the bed as his hand continued to move. “It’s late. You wanna go get food?” Sam asked after a moment, his own heart still beating faster because you were letting him touch you like this. Hell, you’d just openly complimented him he truly felt as if he was on cloud nine.

“Yea. Yea, food is good.” You nodded shifting to sit up. You stood, still feeling the flush from your earlier blip. You moved - intending to go check just how red you’d become in the bathroom when a hand wrapped around your wrist.

His hand circled your wrist, the skin heating as he gently pulled you to stand between his legs. Sam’s smile had only grown softer as he looked you over for a minute. “If it makes you feel any better, I have definitely said worse in front of girls.” He reassured, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. 

He really had not changed, if you squinted you could almost see the same boy you’d met 10 years ago. 

“You were always so hard to read.” His voice was quiet as he spoke, his eyes dancing over your face. “Even when we were kids I…I could never figure out if you felt anything but…” His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment.

“You thought I was hard to read?” You cut him off. You thought that you’d been pretty open (much to your disdain) about your huge crush on him when you’d been a teen. You’d spent those two weeks doing everything in your power to appear normal yet you'd still lay in bed kicking yourself after each day.

“Sam, I thought you were hard to read.” 

He chuckled shaking his head. “Truthfully, those two weeks were torture. I wanted you to like me so bad.” He admitted quietly looking away. He wanted you to be more than just like him. He always had and the way you’d acted after calling him ‘sweet’ almost gave him hope.

“Of course I liked you.” Your hand guided his gaze back to your own. “I’ve always liked you, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” Your finger traced his cheek for a moment.

His eyes finally met yours and the room seemed to melt away until it was just you both left. His hand never left your wrist as he tugged you slightly closer, your knees hitting the bed. 

“Can I kiss you?” He mumbled, lips parting as his free hand pushed your hair back. 

“Please.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

Put Me to Sleep (NSFW)

First Lady of Private Garden Blurb

AN: um this was supposed to be a Blurb, but I think it's a little longer than that lol

Synopsis: You can't sleep and you quickly ask your husband to fix that for you

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Do Not Engage If You Are Underage

"Babe?" You called out to Jack as the time on your phone said 3:26 AM. You had been tossing and turning for a number of hours now with no relief. Usually all you needed to go to sleep was to have Jack laying next to you, but not even that had worked.

You hated waking him up in the middle of the night since it seemed like he would be having nightmares majority of the time so when it looked like he was in a peaceful sleep, you wanted to leave him be.

However, the next morning the first thing out of his mouth would be why didn't you wake him up.

"Hmm? What's wrong baby?" He asked while turning over to look at you and was wondering when you had moved away from him.

"I can't sleep. I've just been laying here for hours." You quietly said while pouting and all Jack did was stare at you until he got an idea and knew the perfect way to get you to sleep.

"You need me to do something for you?" Jack asked as he leaned over and started to kiss down your neck.

"Umm…."

"You tell me any other time what you want, so what's so different now? Come on baby, say what you want me to do to you. Don't tell me my girl is getting shy on me.”

"Eat me out." You softly said and all Jack did was smirk before pulling you closer to him as he placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"Lay on your back then. And you are wearing way too many clothes. Since when do you go to bed like this?" He asked while tugging at your shorts.

"I was cold." You answered as you shrugged.

"That's a first. Since you said that you can't sleep and you woke me up so obviously me being the amazing husband that I am, I'm about to put you to sleep. But first we need to lose these clothes."

Jack gave you another swift kiss before pulling your pajama top over your head and noticing that you weren't wearing a bra underneath, immediately started placing kisses all along your breasts.

"You better not run from me either. You asked for this so you better lay there and take it.”

"I'm not going to!"

"Sure, we'll see." Jack responded before he simply shrugged and made himself comfortable between your legs, but not before leaving a trail of kisses all along your body.

All he did was simply run his fingers across your folds and smirked when he took notice of how wet you were and proceeded to put them in his mouth as you let out a quiet moan.

“Mmm, my baby always tastes so good. You ready for me?”

“I'm always ready for you.”

“Then spread your legs to give me some room and act like you want it.”

You did as you were told and quickly felt him take one long lick that was painfully slow and he could tell that you were getting impatient.

“Babe…” You breathed out wanting him to speed up the process. You were growing desperate at this point.

“Patience, princess.” Was all you heard before he dived back in. He had a tight hold on your legs to make sure you didn't move away from him.

“Oh fuck.” Was the only thing you managed to say before he quickly slipped two fingers into you as he still kept his mouth on you.

Your hands quickly went to play with your pierced nipples as you were rolling them between your fingers while trying to do your best to keep quiet since you knew Urban would be pissed if you woke him up for the third time this week.

“Look at that pretty pussy creaming for me.” You heard Jack say as you peeked your eyes open to see that it was all over his fingers and he quickly held them up to your mouth so you could taste yourself.

“Open up for me baby and see how good you taste.”

You complied and felt some escape out of the side of your mouth which Jack quickly leaned down and grazed his tongue across it before taking his fingers out of your mouth and kissing you.

Jack moaned into the kiss as he could still taste you before pulling away from you and taking one of your pierced nipples in his mouth and sucking lightly. As he was doing this, he slipped his fingers back into you as he added another one and you were getting close to hitting your peak by the second.

“Got damn. Are we sure that there are only seven seas because I definitely found number eight between my wife’s legs. Who gets you wet like this, baby?” Jack asked and all you did was stifle a laugh as he added another finger.

“Only you do.”

Jack then leaned down to suck on your clit and you knew right then and there that you were about to lose it.

“Oooh fuck, oh fuckkkkk.” You whispered before your hands quickly went to Jack’s curls to pull him even closer if that was possible.

Between him having four fingers in you and sucking on your clit, you were caught off guard when you released all over his face, but he still wouldn’t let your legs go as you were whimpering and he kept pleasuring you.

“Mmmm, baby.” You said while attempting to move away from him, but he quickly pulled you back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? You asked me to put you to sleep so that’s what I’m doing.”

Jack then crawled up your body while placing kisses as he went before laying next to you and you looked at him confused.

“We’re not anywhere near done and you need to get up here and sit on my face.”

With your legs still shaking you did as you were told and felt him slap your ass before he positioned you where he wanted you.

It was now close to 5:45 in the morning when you glanced at the clock and you had now lost track of how many times you came and your husband didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. He had now been eating you out in different positions close to two hours and you felt as if you could barely keep your eyes open.

“Come on baby, you can give me one more. You can’t go to sleep yet because I have to change the sheets anyway so you might as well let me make you cum one more time.”

“Only on one condition.” You quietly answered while looking up at him.

“Name it, princess.”

“I want you in me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

As soon as you said that, Jack quickly slid off his boxer briefs and his dick sprung free making your mouth water as you saw the precum leaking from it. He started to lightly stroke himself before sliding into you and bottoming out, making both of you moan in pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, baby.”

All you could do was moan in response as Jack quickly placed your legs on top of his shoulders and you knew from that point on that he wasn’t about to show you any mercy.

And sure enough you were right as he quickly pounded into you.

“That’s it, take all of it, baby. You’re doing such a good job. Keep those legs spread for me.”

You put your left hand over your mouth in the hopes of muffling your moans, but at this point you had no idea if any sound was coming out. More than likely it wasn't as you felt yourself getting close again.

Jack then quickly slid out of you leaving you looking at him with a confused expression on your face but all he did was look down at you and smirk before gently stroking your face.

“I need you on all fours. Face down ass up.”

When you woke up, you had no idea what time it was as you reached for Jack and saw that it was empty when you had finally opened your eyes.

Pouting at the empty space, you rolled over to look at your phone and saw that it was around 2 in the afternoon and you simply laughed to yourself.

He put you to sleep, just like you asked.

You heard the door open and turned back around to see that it was your husband and you reached your arms out telling him that you wanted a hug which he gave to you.

“Mmm, good morning or should I say good afternoon my princess. Did you sleep well?”

Just then Urban barged his way into the room and rolled his eyes before sitting down on the bed and then quickly jumping back up with a disgusted look on his face.

“Don't do that. I changed the sheets.” Jack said as he rolled his eyes at Urban.

“Well to answer your question, I didn't sleep well unlike the princess over here. Because all I heard was you two going at it.”

“I…. well….” You started to say, but was immediately cut off.

“No. Save it. I don't know how the hell you aren't pregnant yet.”

“Because I….”

“Yes, swallowing is your birth control. Anything else you want to add?” Urban asked as his arms were crossed and Jack stifled a laugh.

“There is actually. We need to get you a girlfriend.” You responded as Jack pulled you onto his lap and kissed you.

“I couldn't agree more.” Jack whispered into your ear as Urban rolled his eyes.

“You two make me sick.”

FL Blurbs Taglist

@cmalass

@alinaharlow

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@harlowcomehome

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

@itsyagirljaz

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 2.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing, extreme inaccuracies on hospitals and the entire birthing process but this is fiction so we move. WC: 4.7k

…

Bradley spins the padlock, humming as he does, twisting the lock and pulling open his locker. That run was awful, his instructor has been breathing down his back and Bradley had fucked up two consecutive manoeuvres. He’s sweaty, and tired.

It’s nice out, though, and you’ve been so couped up recently that it’s driving you crazy. If he’s done early enough he could take you out. It’s the middle of summer, there are tons of properties not far that host drive-ins.

You’d probably like that.

He reaches for his bag first. Towel, clothes, soap — the necessities. Under that, is his phone, which he picks up absentmindedly, without checking. Immediately, it starts to buzz in his hand. He turns it over as he walks towards the showers, seeing an unknown number flash up on the screen.

Instinct tells him to answer. He taps the button and cautiously brings the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“There you are, you son of a bitch!”

Bradley blinks, frowning slightly. His stomach drops.

“Jake?”

“No, no! Don’t you dare fucking speak, where the hell are you?” Jake rants on the other end of the line. Bradley’s brows furrow as he plugs a finger into his ear to try to hear. He knows for a fact that Jake gets one call a week, and he hasn’t ever wasted that call on speaking to Bradley.

“What? — I’m at work, what’s going on?” About fifteen other pilots just piled into this room behind him, it’s hard to hear, even with the way your brother is screaming.

“My baby sister’s about to have your kid in your dumbass uncle’s car is what’s going on! — I’m so serious about this, Bradley, if you fucking let her down today, I will kill you — I promise you that I will actually—“

“Uncle? Jake, slow down, I’m grabbing my keys. Where the fuck is she?” Bradley turns on his heel and shoves his way back through the steam-filled locker room, pressing the phone closer to try to hear. It has been hours since he was able to check his phone and the thought makes his throat tight. He can’t think of how many times you would have tried to reach him, how scared you must be.

It’s the entire reason you’re here, away from everything you have ever known; so that he could be there for you. And he isn’t. He might have missed it. He could have let you down all over again.

“She’s on her way to Sacred Heart Hospital! Do you know how many fucking times she tried to call you?” Before Jake even gets to finish his second sentence, Bradley has started running, hoping that he doesn’t turn a corner and knock hot coffee into someone important.

Jake continues to rant on the other end of the line but Bradley’s far from even listening. All he can think of now is when he woke up the night after halloween and saw you laying in his bed, wrapped in his jersey. You had looked so comfortable that he hadn’t wanted to wake you.

On his run that morning, he had thought about it. If he had woken you. Asked you for your number, asked you on a date. He had thought about the way you had joked the night before and the instant connection. But then he came home and realized who you were. It was all downhill from there with the way he had treated you.

He should have just woken you that morning, asked you if you would go to dinner with him. There are so many things he would do differently now. He swallows as he climbs into the driver’s side of his truck and wraps a hand around the wheel just to notice how much he’s trembling now.

“Are you fucking listening to me?”

Bradley swallows, fumbling to get the key into the ignition and balance his phone between his ear and his cheek. “Look, Jake… I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you when I can.”

Jake starts to protest, but Bradley hangs up anyway. His heartbeat thuds in his ears as he backs out of the parking spot. August third. It hasn’t ever been important before, it will be every day for the rest of his life. It’s his son’s birthday.

Maverick winces at your bedside. He has been told by nurses six times now to just sit, that it could be a while before a doctor can see you. But, he won’t. He has been standing to the right side of your bed for over an hour now. He has been acting on autopilot, he barely even knows how he got you here. It’s the one thing that has kept him alive in his career so far, probably. Instinct.

He watches as you double forwards, gritting your teeth, whimpering in pain.

Bradley doesn’t have anybody, Maverick never had anybody. You’ve got two parents out there somewhere who are willing to let you go through this alone. He swallows softly at the thought and lifts his hand, brushing it tenderly over your head as he leans closer.

“It’s alright, you’re going to be just fine.” He says quietly. Your hand darts out and your fingers link between his, squeezing hard at his shaking hand. As much as he’s certain that your grip is going to bruise, he just exhales slowly and smooths his thumb over the back of your hand.

He didn’t even know your name this morning.

“Alright, Miss Seresin,” The snap of a surgical glove alerts the both of you, looking up quickly to see the smiling woman in the colourful scrubs entering the room. “My name is Lucy, I’m just here to do a quick check on how things are progressing. How does that sound?”

Still gritting your teeth, you’re too busy holding your breath and waiting for the pain to subside to answer her. Maverick makes a pained sound at your side, exhaling deeply as you finally let go of his hand.

“Mhm.” You manage out.

Lucy offers you a sympathetic smile as she pulls up a stool at the end of the bed. Maverick turns his attention towards the ceiling as she settles between your legs. You make a soft sound, closing your eyes. You wish that your mom was here holding your hand, rather than Bradley’s last standing family member.

“Okay, you’re still at six centimeters,” Lucy hums. You drop your head back against the pillow and groan in frustration. You’ve been at six centimeters for an hour and a half. Maverick squeezes your hand softly as Lucy grabs your chart from the end of the bed. “How would you rate your pain at the moment?”

“I don’t know. Does it get worse than this?” Your voice trembles as you speak. After sobbing hysterically into both Bradley’s voicemail and to Jake’s commander, begging him to put Jake on the phone, you’ve been doing your best not to cry again. It seems to make Maverick uncomfortable.

“Can you give her anything? — An epidural, or whatever?” Maverick presses.

Lucy presses her lips into a line as she pushes herself to her feet and sets the chart back into its place. She gives a small shake of her head. If she knew anything about Pete Mitchell, she would know that ‘no’ isn’t a word he often agrees with.

“Why not?” He urges, brows knitting together as he drops your hand and straightens up. You glance between him and her.

She sighs softly. “With pregnancies that have complications, we tend to advise against epidural. It could put more strain on his heart, we would have to monitor very closely.”

“So monitor it closely. If you’re so worried, why has she been sitting here for an hour on her own?” Maverick challenges her. Lucy looks towards you and wrings her hands together.

“Pete, stop.” You breathe out.

“I can get the doctor to discuss it with you. It’s still an option at this point, but—“

“I don’t want it.” Your answer is instant. It’s the most confident you’ve sounded all day. Maverick’s head whips around and for the first time, you catch sight of Bradley in his eyes. It’s not a genetic thing, just more of a temperament. All of those hours spent together, Bradley’s quizzical, developing mind. He’s been copying those mannerisms subconsciously since he was in the first grade.

“But—“

“I don’t want it. We’ll be just fine without it.” You decide calmly, smoothing your palms over your swollen stomach for one of the last times. Pete opens his mouth at your side, he almost argues with you, but he stops himself. This isn’t his kid, or even his family — Bradley has made that clear. So, pressing his lips together, he just nods.

Bradley can feel all of the eyes on him. Maybe it’s because he’s in uniform, maybe it’s because he is walking so fast that when he collided with a doctor two minutes ago, he knocked the poor guy straight on his ass and just kept walking. His eyes widen as he spots the reception desk finally.

“Seresin. My, uh — my girlfriend is having a baby. Her last name is Seresin, she should be here.” Bradley breathes out. The nurse looks up at him and smiles. She sees a lot of stressed out, first time dads. This isn’t unusual.

“Alright. What’s your name, honey?” She smiles.

“Bradley Bradshaw.”

“I’ll tell her you’re here, I’ll come get you as soon as she says it’s okay. Why don’t you get some water, just take a breath?” She reaches out and pats the hand that he has resting on top of the counter. Bradley swallows, managing to give her a stiff nod.

She’s gone for less than two minutes, but Bradley’s pounding heart just makes it feel like it’s an eternity. She can see it on his face when she walks back towards him that he’s terrified. So, she just offers him a smile and nods for him to follow her.

At first, Bradley doesn’t even notice that there’s anyone else in the room. All he sees is you, sitting up in the bed, your hair pulled back and tears in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He rushes towards you. You whimper as he wraps you in his arms, grabbing onto him tightly. He leans down and kisses the top of your head. “Jake got through to me, I got here as soon as I could.”

“I was scared you wouldn’t make it in time.” You whisper into his chest. Bradley turns his head and kisses your temple, nodding. He opens his mouth to agree, and then takes notice of who is standing at the other side of your bed. His uncle. He hadn’t taken much notice of what Jake had said on the phone.

He stands up straight and stares, silent for a second. Maverick has learned by now to just keep his mouth shut.

“I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from my family.”

“Bradley, don’t. He got me here, he stayed with me.” You frown up at him. Bradley just stares over you, looking at the man who has let him down again and again for as long as they have known each other.

Maverick takes a slow step back, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ll go. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”

“No, Mav—“

“I don’t want him here. He doesn’t need to be anywhere near—“

“I want him here.” You answer back, scowling up at your boyfriend. Of all the stupid arguments that the two of you have had, Bradley knows better than to pick a fight with someone who is in active labour.

Even so, Maverick has spent more than two decades going against Bradley’s wishes. Making him eat his vegetables, refusing to let him drop out of little league, almost ruining his career. He needs to give his nephew some leeway here, if this is going to work.

“I could go to your place. Get you some things, give you two a minute. I’ll come back, sit in the waiting room. If you want me, I’ll be right outside.”

“No.” Bradley deadpans. You shoot him a look, then turn to offer Pete a small smile.

“Can I text you a list? I have it all written on my phone.”

Maverick nods. He still has your keys from earlier, and honestly, he’s grateful to be out from Bradley’s glare once he leaves the room. You’re grateful that you aren’t going to have the two of them fighting while you’re trying to do this.

Bradley’s scowl fades once he’s certain that Maverick is far enough away. He turns around and perches on the side of your bed, draping his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“How are you feeling? — Did they give you anything for the pain, yet?” He asks softly, smoothing his free hand tenderly over your stomach. You scrunch your nose slightly and turn to frown at him.

“No — Bradley, you smell disgusting.”

He stares back at you, blinking slowly. “Honey, I ran a red light to get here. Showering wasn’t my top priority.”

“No, I know, but — could you maybe put your arm down?”

His mouth twitches, giving an amused shake of his head as he unwraps his arm from around you. He entwines his fingers with yours instead, giving your hand a soft squeeze. “What do you mean they haven’t given you anything? — Do you want me to talk to someone?”

“No, no. I can’t have an epidural, it would put him at risk. I’m going to do it without.” You’re quiet as you explain it, just waiting for Bradley to freak out like Maverick had wanted to. He’s quiet for a minute. You brace yourself.

He strokes his thumb softly along the fabric of the hospital gown. It takes him a minute to finally lift his head and look you in the eye. He exhales slowly.

“You’re sure?”

“You couldn’t change my mind if you tr— ah.” You wince, sitting bolt upright and holding your breath. Bradley barely even notices you squeezing his hand. He feels sick, watching the way your entire body goes rigid with the pain. He has read that this can take like eight hours the first time, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to sit through eight hours of watching you suffer like this.

That being said, there’s nothing he can do but be here. An hour later, he’s already on the verge of tearing his hair out as silent tears roll down your cheeks while you sip on water. He has suggested the epidural twice more since your first conversation, you’ve refused it twice.

The contractions are more regular now. You’re trying to keep him calm, knowing that he’s freaking out even more than you are, but they’re close enough together now that you haven’t spoken in a while. You knew this was going to hurt, but the last ten minutes have been agony.

“Okay, Miss Seresin, just here for another quick check.” Lucy strolls back into the room smiling again, shooting a quick look to the new man standing at your bedside. Bradley glances between you and her, fighting to ask her where the hell she has been. She sits between your legs once more. You sigh in discomfort. The thing about not having an epidural — you can feel everything. “Oh.”

Bradley looks at her. “Oh?”

“She, uh — We’re just about there. That was fast, you’re sure this is your first?” Her smile has faded for the first time. You stare at her face. She looks scared. You feel like you’re going to throw up.

“She’d notice if it wasn’t, wouldn’t she?” Bradley bites. You swing your arm out and smack him in the stomach. Lucy stands up quickly.

“I’m going to grab the doctor.”

You’re quiet as she hurries off, turning your head and looking up at Bradley. He watches your lip tremble and reaches out instinctively, stroking gently at your cheek. He wipes a salty tear from your skin.

“She looked worried.” You whisper to him.

He leans down, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your mouth as he squeezes your hand. “You’ve got this. You’re going to be just fine. This whole time, you’ve been so strong. Just a little longer.”

Squeezing his hand, you lean closer and rest your face against his arm.

“I’m so fucking scared.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, to either one of you.” Bradley kisses the top of your head, his eyes sting. He closes them and inhales the familiar scent of your hair. There’s no way in hell he’s going to cry in front of you. “Just a little longer and he’s going to be here, this is all going to be worth it.”

He doesn’t know that for sure, there’s no way that he can, but it’s enough for you to believe it. Besides, there isn’t a lot of time to be caught up in the fear. Once pushing starts, there’s only one thing on your mind and that’s getting this over and done with.

Bradley isn’t sure what he was expecting labour to be like, but he wasn’t expecting so many people. There are six people in this room and Bradley isn’t sure exactly what any of them are here for specifically. His main focus is you.

Each time you push, your body goes tense, you grit your teeth and you hold your breath. He’s sure that you’re going to pass out any minute now.

“Okay, another big one. You’re doing great.” The doctor instructs. Bradley shoots him a furious look. A nurse at your side is quick to rub your shoulder and tell you to breathe. He leans in close and kisses the top of your head. Once again, you grit your teeth and push hard. Bradley feels like he can’t breathe himself.

This time, you don’t hold your breath. Instead, it’s all forced out of your lungs at once as you scream out, digging your nails into Bradley’s palm, hot tears spilling onto your cheeks. The second that you’re done screaming, there’s no getting your breath back. You inhale too fast and sob back out an exhale. Again and again as the nurse at your side tells you to slow down.

“Alright, and again.” The doctor sighs.

Your eyes flicker to him, and Bradley snaps. He can’t stand the pain in your expression, and he can’t stand that doctor’s fucking tone. “Again? — She needs a break. She can’t go again.”

The abundantly calm older lady between your legs simply lifts her head and looks up at him through her glasses. She has been delivering babies longer than either one of you has been alive. “Son, there’s no time for a break right now. This baby’s coming. Rather than yelling at me, focus on her.”

Bradley’s jaw ticks as he settles in closer and brings your knuckles up to rest against his lips. He winces, blinking back tears as you have to go through another tough push. Your head falls back against the pillows in a moment of brief respite.

He studies your face for a second. Up until this exact moment in time, as he’s wiping tears from your cheeks with his free hand, Bradley had seen the two of you maybe having another kid. Right now, he’s certain that he’ll never put you through any of this again.

“You must hate me right now.” He whispers, giving a soft shake of his head. Honestly, he doesn’t really expect you to answer. He barely expects you to hear him. He definitely doesn’t expect you to laugh.

Your face is hot, and blotchy with tears. Your entire body is exhausted and trembling, and you’re laughing at him. Sniffling, you blink through the tears, “I’ve hated you more than I do right now, it’s okay.”

He can’t help but smile, brushing a few strands of hair back off of your face, then leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’ve been thinking a lot, about the future, and about our family—“

“Don’t you dare fucking propose to me right now, Bradley. Don’t.” You growl. The nurse at your side just can’t hold it in. Bradley frowns at her as she giggles and rubs soothingly at your back. He kisses your knuckles and closes his mouth.

You’re right. He’ll finish that speech another time.

“Here’s his head.”

Bradley looks swiftly away and stares at the ceiling. The death-grip that you’ve got on his hand is the least of his worries. The thought alone is enough to make him dizzy. Jake’s going to kill him if he passes out. He inhales slowly through his nose and leans in again, resting his forehead against your temple as you cry out.

“There we go, that’s perfect. Keep going, he’s almost here.” The doctor’s tone never lifts above a breezy cadence. She’s beyond cool, finally glancing up to offer you a small smile.

He sticks to your side, kissing your temple. Your chest heaves. There’s not long to go, you’re almost done. But, the end is the worst. It really does feel like you’re going to black out. You don’t know how people have been doing this for so long, or why some of them choose to have so many kids after this pain.

You half expect to give up, to break down crying and begging for your mother before it’s all done. You’re right on the verge, whimpering into the sleeve of Bradley’s flight suit. And then, it’s over. The doctor exhales deeply and hums.

He takes his first big inhale and promptly wails into the air.

The doctor has him in her hands when she looks up and catches sight of the two of you before her. You’re clinging onto his hand and he’s pressing as close to you as he can without crawling into the bed. There’s a fearful, awestruck look plastered across both of your faces as you stare in the direction of the scream.

She smiles at the two of you. You’re going to be just fine.

“Would you like to cut the cord?” The doctor asks Bradley calmly. He regrets yelling at her now, but she doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge.

Bradley blinks, then shakes his head. “No, I don’t want to hurt him.

She chuckles, then shakes her head. “You won’t.”

He does as instructed, rolling his sleeves up, and quickly cleaning his hands and arms. He’s the first one that gets a look. As he sets the scissors back down, he turns his head towards you with a look on his face that you haven’t seen before.

Blinking back tears, Bradley smiles softly at you. And then he’s all yours. They set the baby down on your chest, starting to clean and dry him off right away. Bradley moves to your side once again, brushing your hair back off of your forehead.

Still wailing, you whimper quietly as you stare down at the infant. Ten fingers, ten toes, a good set of lungs on him. Bradley’s lips press softly to your forehead as you reach out, hands trembling, and trail your fingers featherlight along the length of his spine.

His plush, pink lips tremble as the wailing starts to subside. Bradley strokes tenderly at the nape of your neck with his thumb, rendered silent as he watches you with him.

“Hi,” You breathe out, hugging the towel closer to him. You inhale deeply, then exhale through your nose. A nurse smiles as she reaches around you to place the soft knit hat on top of his head. He’s warm enough now, you want to keep it that way. “Hi, baby boy.”

Bradley swallows the lump in his throat. Four and a half hours of labour without any tears. Twelve seconds of watching you with your baby and hot tears are stinging his eyes.

You get five minutes with him before they have to check his vitals, his weight, his height. As much as your arms feel empty without him there, you want those results. You want him to be fine. You want to see him in that bassinet beside your bed tomorrow night.

Blinking, you look up at Bradley. He scoffs as your mouth falls open.

“Allergies.” He mumbles, crouching down to kiss your mouth as tears dampen his cheeks. You reach up and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, turning your face into his neck. You feel him relax into your touch. He kisses your shoulder, sniffling.

Both of you let it be quiet for a moment. You won’t be getting a lot of that once you’re at home, not with that boy’s vocal chords.

“Thank you,” Bradley mumbles into the crook of your neck. He pulls back from the hug just slightly, brushing the backs of his fingers along your cheek. He sighs, then nods seriously. “Thank you.”

“Just don’t ask me to do it again.” You joke, watching his tearful face shift into a grin. He sits forwards and kisses you. You close your eyes as he trails his fingertips along your arms.

“I’m serious,” He tells you softly, watching you blink tiredly. “I’d have nothing if it wasn’t for you. I was bitter and mean, and you were way too nice to me. It’s because of you that we have him. I’m so, so grateful.”

Your lips quirk up into a soft smile. If Jake could hear some of this, he would probably start to like Bradley again.

Exhaustion starts to set in, but there’s no time to sleep when there are doctors and nurses fussing over you, and then he’s being bundled back into you again.

Your eyelids are heavy as you turn your head and look over at Bradley, sitting in the chair beside your bed. His flight suit is tied around his waist and his t-shirt is draped over the back of the chair. Your baby looks tiny nestled into his arms.

You fight to keep awake as your always calm doctor walks into the room once again and sits down between the two of you.

“Seventeen inches, four pounds and ten ounces. Congratulations.” She tells the two of you with a small smile. Bradley doesn’t look up at her, smoothing his fingertips through the soft, dark hair on your son’s head. She looks at you, then at Bradley. “He’s strong. He’s doing well. We’re going to move you to the neonatal intensive care unit so that we can keep an eye on his feedings. We need to get that weight up, keep him warm. But, I’m not concerned.”

You swallow softly. “The tests and everything… he looked okay?”

She stands up and takes two small steps towards you. She rests her hand softly on your forearm, giving you a sincere nod. “Aside from his weight, he’s perfect. Does he have a name?”

Bradley finally lifts his head and looks, offering you a small smile. You wipe the tears from your cheeks and nod at her. “His name’s Thomas.”

It breaks your heart when it’s time for him to go. The thought of him being without you on that ward. Bradley holds you while you cry, and truthfully, he feels like crying too. It’s been a long day. You’re all emotional.

He stays with you until you fall asleep. Then, half-awake himself, he heads off to see your son. It’s the first night that he gets to say goodnight to the both of you.

Bradley stops as he closes the door to your room behind him. He stares at the man asleep in the waiting area, drooling on his hand as it props his chin up. He knew Mav had gotten here a while ago, someone had brought the bag in. Bradley just figured he would have gone home by now. Exhaling slowly, he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides.

“Mav?”

The older pilot startles awake, blue eyes wide and blinking quickly as he tries to figure out where he is. It takes him a moment to figure out who is in front of him. Tall, flight-suit, mustache. Maverick feels the lump in his throat grow as he realises that it isn’t his best friend.

He looks Bradley up and down. He looks older now than he did a few hours ago, not just because he’s tired. Because Maverick isn’t looking at a little boy anymore.

“There’s someone you probably want to meet, huh?”

…

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