#how about sitting your kid down to explain to them what horror is and what fiction is

[luveline]

how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 

[freakassfemme]

streamer!gf! abby head cannons ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧

this came to me so violently. i couldn't get it out fast enough

✮⋆˙ initially she gets popular with a male audience through first person shooter games and her custom builds of old ass computers from like, random 90s scrap lots she finds on ebay

✮⋆˙ is playing black ops or something for a throwback Thursday and bumps into some random kid on voice chat who tells her to play Roblox (she's never heard of it)

✮⋆˙ lev explains it to her and she finds the concept really weird and kind of funny so she agrees and streams it one day, which SHOVES her through a portal to popularity

✮⋆˙ hot buff nerdy girl w glasses on my computer? yeah her demographics change REAL fast

✮⋆˙ surprisingly she has a lot of fun with it. she thinks the games people recommend her are really hilarious and her chat eats it up

✮⋆˙ never mentions being gay until someone makes a Chappell roan reference in chat one day and just casually she's like "omg my girlfriend loves her"

CROWD GOES WILDDDDDDDDD

✮⋆˙ very quickly they want to meet you. abby refuses at first, but slowly allows you to weasel your way in, whether it's through playing on your switch in the background, blurred out, or you running after bear and alice to try to rush them out of abby's office

✮⋆˙ soon enough you're sitting down live because abby can't place on dress to impress and she's pissed

✮⋆˙ it becomes a joke, but she loves it. she really enjoys making more light-hearted content and connecting with different types of people rather than vaguely-threatening tech bros

✮⋆˙ has a thing where if anything gay happens on screen she salutes the camera or gives the craziest side eye

✮⋆˙ still goes back to her roots and plays the most random old games she's had to pirate off some sketchy websites and download suspicious files to obtain, just laughs nervously when everyone's freaking out about it

"whaaaat? no, the internet is really nice to me. it would never do that -- oh FUCK" (mods are rushing to blurr out her IP address)

✮⋆˙ has the driest, most sarcastic humor that everyone adores.

"I want to rip your bicep off with my teeth... that's really normal of you."

"you think you could do it better? yeah? is that going to be before or after your homework?"

✮⋆˙ very minimalist, black setup with some black ambient lighting that's low-key like hot as fuck

but she's really clumsy and trips a lot, especially because it's dark. her monitor is falling like every other night and she's lucky it hasn't cracked

✮⋆˙ constantly bombarded with edits of her to muse that you'll be running in to show her midstream. she gets the biggest, most shit-eating grin

also didn't really understand what an edit was until you showed and explained it to her lol

✮⋆˙ eventually, as she opens up more and becomes more of a charming personality than a stoic bro-type, she starts making other friends.

yeah she becomes friends with streamer!ellie <3

as the time goes by, she and ellie get really close. there's definitely multiple streams of you, abby, dina and ellie playing mario kart or luigi's mansion on some first generation wii

✮⋆˙ abby teaches you how to jailbreak anything and everything from a 3DS to a switch, even when you're freaking out that she's going to lock it and you'll have to get a new one

✮⋆˙ eventually she sets you up a little corner in her office for when you join her on her streams. it goes from being one camera to you both having separate monitors, and yours is obviously much more colorful than hers

✮⋆˙ on very, VERRRRRY rare occasions she'll say something like "gotta lock in" or "ate", and its usually after like the most gruesome scene in a horror game and like 20 seconds delayed

like imagine her saying "gotta lock in" trying to be funny and finally getting into the bathroom in silent hill and then just sitting over the sink with her jaw on the floor for fifteen seconds

"Jesus Christ, am I going to get banned for showing that?"

✮⋆˙ really gets into analog horror and eventually starts drafting her own concepts, which pushes her into the rabbithole of ARGs

✮⋆˙ loves when people make virtual stickers of her, she thinks its really funny and though she never gets into "merch", she doesn't mind people turning stuff into actual stickers. she thinks its even funnier when she's never seen a screenshot until someone sends her it as a sticker

lets you keep them all and put them on the fridge or your water bottle

✮⋆˙ never does anything risky on stream but is no stranger to leaning back in her chair for a good time if you tiptoe in one night after she's logged off

[fluffykiddosstuff]

stanford and stanley pines fighting for you (headcanons)

i just played swooning over stans and...help i'm so obsessed with these two now..here is littles headcanons for them when they are both in love with you :-)

warnings : swearing (thank you stanley), gn!reader, using they/them pronouns, mention of child abuse

context : the kids are gone, the grunkles are on adventures, so to their surprise when they came back for a month, they saw you in the living room (stanley almost hit you with a stick if ford and soos didn't got him), soos explain to them that you got banished from your home and came to the shack late at night under the rain. Pitty hitting them since they know damn well what a lonely life is, they let you stay and life goes on..well not as they expected...

stanley pines :

at first he tries to deny what he feels, you are friends, right ?

if you laugh at his jokes, swear with him against things he dislikes (tv-shows, young people ect..), and that you help him annoy poeple by stealing and other things ? My man is head over heals

you can see he start to grow fond of you when he wants to protect you even more than before, especially since he knows what is gravity falls made of

when you where gone for shopping with soos, he decided it was time to annonce it to his dear twin brother

he would talk about it while watching a romance movie with ford (even tho he said he didn't wanted to watch)

"you know, i start to kinda like them..but like like them you see.."

the pills doesn't pass well when ford says he likes you too

stan is definitely the most childish one

"let's make a bet sixer ! the first to got a date with them wins !"

he likes to come in while ford tries to show you something or even tries to speak to you

he even broke down ford's clock so he would be late to your weekly monster's chase

he still as limits of course, ford is his twin brother after all, and it's only little jokes that doesn't harm anyone right ?

will definitly show off with his boxing skills or by putting a nice suit (for exemple the one in the gif) while you all go out together for a party or something, will try to do sport everyday but heh, he is a little bit too old to do those things daily..

gives you his jacket when you are outside with him, even if you aren't cold, when he sees ford's face when he smells his cologne on you while you both work on something, i'ts worth it

gives you flowers and little gifts, puts them on your bed for you to find when you come back

verbally says what he thinks about you, while ford can't even say two lines in a phrase when all he wanted to say is that your outfit was pretty

stanford pines :

he mainly start to realise he likes you when you helped him with his reasearches for a creature, he is amazed by how much you are interested in his work and doesn't hesitate to take you as an assistant and answer all of your questions

man did he regret telling stan's about his feelins for you, now his life is a living hell (sometimes he thinks about going back in the other dimension by how stan can be extremely annoying, really)

you only get free time with him when you are both in the forest to hunt monsters, you talk for hours about many toppics

smarter than stan, he tries to make you more open around him, asking you about personnal stuff and trying to comfort you when things gets too hard for you to tell, he even experienced to make hugs (bc my dude is awkard) and he purposelly hugs you in front of stan while you are crying about something related from your abusive parents, bonus point if you say : "oh ford..what would i do without you..", he would look at his twin, sticking out his tongue in a proud grin, revenge is a plate you eat cold they said

when you are all watching a show on the t-v and that it's his turn to choose the movie, even if he is dying to watch a documentary, he puts an horror movie and sits next to you, watching you take his hand as a loud noises his heard or hugs you if you are too scared

when you both work and you pass out on a table, he first puts his long jacket on you, and if it gets too late, he takes you in his arms to put you in your bed, all while him and stan are having a "who is gonna look the more angry at eachother" contest

when stan swears , he likes to take him back, especially if you don't like that either (or if it's not the right moment or the right place to do those) of course it doesn't stop him for saying : "for fuck's sake" or "fucking little nerd" while you laugh with ford

[hoshigray]

Sit down for this one, alright? How bout a gigolo! Toji, who stumbles upon you? The reader's friends pay for his services to help ease your stress from work, and you begrudgingly have to accept the offer. And when you finally meet him, it's a night that you were not prepared for you, mentally and physically.

A/n: camgirl! reader this, prostitute! reader that; motherfuckers, if you don't slap your favs onto the field right tf now!!?? Gege himself said that Toji is a manwhore for money and women, so you know I'm running with this idea :/ Lol but fr tho, this was a prompt that has been itching me, plus I love making these scenario thingies!! I outta write them for the other JJK men when I have the time (or maybe y'all can send asks *shrugs*). All ik is that this hot dilf bastard would make a fine gigolo, I'd happily be broke ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Cw: gigolo! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - age difference (reader is at least in their mid/late-20s) - implied that reader isn't a virgin, but does try new things w/ Toji - Daddy kink - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling - prone bone + cowgirl/riding positions - scratching (m! receiving) - cervix fucking - pet names (baby, cutie, good girl, mama, princess, sweetheart, sweet thing) - praise - overstimulation - impact play; spanking (1x) - Toji lowkey simping for the cute, shy reader.

Wc: 2.2k

Gioglo! Toji...

...whose been in the field not as long as his hitman occupation, yet it's a side hustle he's good at. Like, extremely good at. His age and rough appearance wouldn't have you guess that he does this sort of thing; however, men and women sigh in heavenly familiarity just from the sheer mention of his name. When you venture deep into the streets, it's no surprise to the average goer that he is [if not one of] the best gigolo in the game. The younger male escorts find it hard to compete with him, but it's pointless going up against a man of his caliber.

...who enjoys the gigs even when going with it for all these years. Money was the only reason he turned to this hustle in the first place, so, surprisingly, he's continued with this for as long as he can. Especially now that he has two kids and is well past his younger prime, he still uses his body on clients who can't get enough of him. And the number of his customers has stayed steadily high (if not increasing by the day) throughout the years.

But who is he to call this lifestyle off? Easy cash all from some good sex? Toji has no complaints about this side hustle.

...who states he has no favorites among his clients. There are the faces he'll remember — his returning loyal customers — and then the faces only there for a quick fuck and never to be seen again. Not that Toji cares about such things at all. As far as he's concerned, he's only in it for the money. So, as long as the cash looks appealing, he doesn't care what he has to do or has to do it with. Besides, you should never mix your personal life with your profession, especially with a heavily explicit and raunchy one such as this. He lived by that motto all those years and will resume doing so. No matter how hard they plea with doe eyes for him to stay longer, he'll just give them what they want; his deep verdant eyes contrasting his raven hair, his titillating smirk on his scarred lips whispering dirty words to their ears, and his muscular body that put them under his spell in the sheets.

Toji swears he has no favorites. So he thought...

...who is a name you weren't familiar with until your friends came to you, and you expressed nothing but sheer horror after they explained. Apparently, as the most stressed and workaholic person in the group, they thought it'd be a good idea to pitch in and schedule you a night with the infamous Toji Fushiguro. You've practically begged them to reconsider, pull back from the deal, bargained, anything! Even so much as calling one of them ("Please, please, please just call this thing off!" "Sorry, Y/n. He already accepted the offer, so we can't get the money back. Plus, you're gonna be in good hands, I promise! I was with him once, and my body was never the same. I saw him the second time and, literally, my puss—" "OKAY, I GET IT, I'M HANGING UP, BYE!!").

Your objections were directed to deaf ears, so to say you were nervous the night of Toji's arrival was far from comprehension. Coming home from work was hard enough throughout the entire week, becoming difficult to stomach day by day when the fateful day came. Because you never had experience with an escort or playboy before — let alone one who's supposedly well-known to your friends and the streets! Blood running cold as you constantly look at the time, your foot thumping on the ground, and your fingers fidgeting as you wait for the stranger listed to take your virginity away. And with the sudden knock on your door, your heart almost lept out from your mouth. Oh, fucking Christ...

...who surveys your entire appearance after you open the door for him. And he takes his time drinking in your pretty figure, your smooth skin, the alluring scent of your floral lotion, and the cami romper that exhibits your shoulders and thighs to his liking. He notes you avert your gaze when his eyes find their way to yours, and he snickers. Already, he knows he'll have fun with this. "Hey, cutie," Toji says, his gruff tone rare to your ears. "Y'r name's Y/n, right? Heard about you from y'r friends, said they wanted me to treat you."

You gulp before replying. "Yes, that's me...Oh! Please come in, Mr. Fushigu—"

"Toji's enough, sweetheart." He corrects you before entering inside, taking his shoes off at the front and entering the living room. "Nice place ya got. Did'ja wanna do this here? Because I was told to take you out somewhere."

You open your mouth to answer, but you meekly retract yourself. Toji notices your quiet display, chewing on your bottom lip while playing with the tied straps of your romper on your shoulder. Damn, so fuckin' cute. He walks up to you and brings a hand to lightly seize your chin with his thumb and forefinger, and you almost want to scream at the older man examining you like some treasure. "Ya nervous?" You give a shy nod. "Aww, y're a cute lil' thing, huh?"

With hot cheeks, you avert your gaze away from him again. Your modesty amused the older man, "Relax, baby. I'm gonna take good care of you, ya hear? If y're feelin' any pain or somethin', be sure to tell me." He has you turn to him again, caressing your cheek with his warm forefinger. Your lips quiver with anxiousness when you give another nod to him. And with that silent confirmation, you've accepted what happens next.

...who enjoys breaking you down as the night goes on. He has you on your bed with your back against his chest, and he does what he can to warm your body up to him. His big hands grope your breasts and tweeze your erect nipples until one slithers down to your drenched panties and forces a finger between your slick-coated folds. Your whimpers seep past your pretty lips, gasps of air exiting your system when the man kisses your neck and sucks on your skin.

"Mmmm, so tight 'round my fingers, mama," his hoarse voice vibrates his chest. You melt while he nibbles on your ear. "Spread them legs wide fr' me." With quivering limbs, you try to do what you're told, and more wails exit your mouth as he pushes his digits to and fro from your leaky chasm.

And the moment he finally has his dick inside you? Oh, Toji relishes the sensation of you around him. Fucking so deep in the prone bone position, he hammers his pelvis to your ass, and his balls smack onto your vulva coated in slick and come. Your moans fuel him to go harder and faster; the sight of you griping the sheets beneath and your ass jolting with every thrust turns him on too much.

"Haaah—Ahhhh!! Toji, oh God," it was your first time ever in this position, and it's so intense and electrifying with how harsh the older man propels himself to you. His cock scraping your most sensitive walls, you had given up concealing your screams long ago. "It's too much for—Mmmph!! 'S too muuuch..."

"Feelin' good there, princess?"

"Nmmph!! Y-Yess," drool starts to pool on the pillow you're resting on, but you're too occupied to feel ashamed of this lewd image you're exhibiting. "Feels so good, so goo—Ohhoooo!!" Your brows trench with eyes sewn shut, and your climax begins to climb quickly. With a choked cry, you come on Toji's dick for the second time that night, tears wetting the pillowcase while your cunt flutters on him as you release.

Regardless, Toji still ruts into you even when you're under a blissful haze, not until he's done with you. "Good girl, cummin' on my dick like that — Nmmph!!" He pulls out of you, spilling his load onto you, covering your asscheeks and lower back.

...who was surprised to see you again after a week, scheduling him with you on another weekend. Not like he had any objections to it, absolutely not. Because when he sees you give him a bashful smile and wave, he can't help but smirk and walk in your direction. "Well, hey, sweet thing." He'd greet and kiss your cheek before wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Liked how I took care of you last time?"

You'd pull your stare to the ground yet give him a curt nod, the older man only finding your interaction adorable. "Uh-huh..." And Toji wastes no time wrapping an arm around your waist and walking with you to the nearest hotel.

And he's even more perplexed to see you two weekends after that...and the other two after that...Gradually, you've become a frequent client of his. That fact alone is enough to have him drop what he's about to do to have availability for you.

...who'd start to find himself slowly attracted to you the more you see him. It wasn't about the money when it came to you. In fact, no one knows you pay him significantly lower than the others. Can you blame him, though? When a doll like you always offers him to stay the night at your play after sex or treat him to meals sometimes, it's hard for the man to not feel some type of way about you. The two of you are aware that this relationship is founded on sex for the sake of your stress relief. Yet as the days go on, it's difficult for Toji to not fall in love and be enamored with your charming and sweet self.

Nevertheless, he'd be lying if he said the sex wasn't good between you two. Because it's quite the opposite, especially as Toji observes how sexually free you become with his visits. Whether it be you scratching on his back while he drills his dick into you, marking his tanned skin of your nails ("Oh, my God! I'm so sorry about that!" You'd apologize profusely, but he'd counter with a chuckle. "It's fine, cutie. It's not the first time I got scratched up by a kitten."). Or whether you'd allow him to convince you to try other positions — like his favorite, the full nelson.

Or, in times like this, when you'd have more confidence than before and ask if you'd ride him. And with a grin, Toji lies back and watches you bounce on his cock. An erotic image that he'd love to keep in his memory for as long as he can.

"Ohhh...Hmmm—Ahhnnn!!" Your cries as you straddle him in a desperate tempo, taking in his girth inch by inch, are music to his ears. The view of your beautiful, sweaty, hot body hopping on his dick is recorded with lustful forest-green eyes. "Ahhhh!! Feels so good, Toji, so—Ahhhh!!!"

"Not so fast there, sweetheart." Toji smacks your bare ass, prompting you to come down and lay your head on his shoulder. You look to see his eyes peer down to your teary ones."What's my name again?"

"Hmmm, sorry, Daddy," you correct yourself, your cunt twitching on his length when the title slips out. "Pleaseeee, forgive me—Eeeiiii!! Oh, Jesus..."

Toji grabs your butt with his hands, propelling them downward to match the jerk of his hips, and the tip of his length makes contact with your cervix. Choked sobs strain out from your throat as he kisses your temple. "Good girl, that's my fuckin' girl..."

Oh, fucking shit! It's coming. It's coming! "Daddy, please, I'm about to cum...Ohhhh, gonna cum—Mmmph!!" The older man silences you with his lips on yours, and you follow suit by wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the passionate kiss. The motion of your hips goes erratic with his, your orgasm coming up for the both of you with the increased speed. It's there you two succumb to climaxing, the walls of your slit clasping around his cock while he pumps the last of his essence into you. Groans and whimpers are exchanged between clingy mouths.

A wave of calm soon calms the air and your sweaty frames stick together. He resumes kissing you until your sensitive body has had enough, removing your lips from his teasing teeth. "Thank you, Toji. Thank you..."

Even out of breath, his scarred lip uproots to a smirk. "Y're so fuckin' cute, ya know that, mama?"

...who understands he's breaking his own rule when it's just you. It's never good mixing business with personal life. He was in it for the money from the start, and that mentality has done him well throughout the years. Do whatever the clients ask, take the money, and move on. Can't attach yourself to them. Now, he's found himself going against his motto; enjoying his time with you more than any of the others he's been with, looking forward to seeing you again to enjoy having you to himself. Whenever you aren't around him, it's evident that you will cloud his mind until you text or call.

But as he's stated before: as long as their cash in front of him and both parties get what they want, there's no need to have favorites...However, as long it's just you, he'll always be willing to make an exception.

[starlight-library]

Take a break | LS2

pairing: logan sargent x reader

summary: its launch day for williams and your boyfriend so overwhelmed and tired you decide to give him a quick pick me up

warnings: smut: oral (f & m receiving), sorta sub!logan & dom!reader, no protection (wrap your willy sillies!), praise kink, breath play (didn't intend for that one), breeding kink, basically porn with a semi plot??

a/n: uh, haven't written smut in a long time let alone f/m smut so PLEASE be gentle with me here! also i'll admit, writing scene with eating out is NOT my strong suit but i'm trying to get better! again, no proofreading, we die like men!

wc: 2.8K

Launch days were something you weren’t particularly familiar with for a multitude of reasons. The first reason was you hadn’t been a long time fan of F1 as you had recently gotten into the sport a little into the 2023 season more as something to have on in the background. The second reason is because you were so new to this world of motorsports, you had no idea what the pre-season would entail. The third reason is because the only reason you got into the world of F1 was because of your boyfriend, Logan Sargent.

You happened to be on a trip with some friends in Miami even after hearing many horror stories about how Miami usually ruins friendships. That was not you and your friends though. Instead you and your friends had made a very important note to have dedicated alone time so you all didn’t end up kill each other and it was proving to be a great key to this vacation. During your shopping, you had bumped into someone and turned around to apologize the same time Logan did. The two of you laughed and went your separate ways. You had told your friends about the encounter and how you regretted not continuing the conversation but you were too embarrassed. They reassured you that they would find this mysterious blonde man for you.

None of you had to try very hard as you and your friends decided to go to a club Sunday night after the Grand Prix and it just happened to be the same one a lot of the drivers ended up going to. You ran into Logan again, literally, and this time you actually kept the conversation going. One thing lead to another (as well as finding out he was an F1 driver and causing you to go down this rabbit hole to understand his work more) and by summer break you had been on four dates before he officially asked you to be his partner. By winter break, you were comfortable enough for him to announce the relationship and even with the mixed reviews from fans neither of you let it affect your relationship. If anything, it made your relationships stronger. It helped that Alex and Lily were super supportive and helpful the moment you two went public.

Lily especially. She had been nothing but kind and supportive the moment you two went public. She went on about how sweet Logan is and how she was ecstatic for him to finally have met someone who wanted him for him and not because he was a famous world driver. She was also over the moon to have a WAG on the team (yes she even took the time to explain what was a WAG was to you) and that she finally had someone to sit with during races and chat with during events like this.

Which is how you found yourself sorta following Lily around like a lost puppy to really grasp the rope of things before the two of you found yourself huddled together as the launch happened. It was fun. There was a kid named William outside with a sign that said ‘My name is William too!’ They actually brought him in for the launch and even had him sit in the car. You smiled seeing the kid beam at the two of them and Logan happily chatting with him when he wasn’t pulled away to be in front of the camera.

After the launch, Alex and Logan were heading down to Central Park to continue filming so you and Lily decided to have a little afternoon together. You two went shopping, had lunch, and just explored as the two of you chatted about anything and everything. You guys were stopped a bit for pictures, which was expected with Lily, but you? That surprised you but also warmed your heart and you happily took the photos. Then you two arrived at the hotel and parted ways before the meet and greet where you’d probably be off to the side with her once again just watching and interacting with fans.

You were mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when you heard a faint whirling noise before the door was opened. Looking over you saw your boyfriend and a smile tugged to your lips. Shifting, you sit next on the edge of the bed as Logan comes padding over. The smile turns into a small frown seeing the state of him. “You okay?” You ask. He grunts in response as he stands between your legs and you rub his arms soothingly.

“Come sit,” you gently pull Logan down next to you. Immediately, the American is pulling you into his lap and burying his face into your neck. Running your fingers through his hair, you kiss his temple gentle as he grumbles about how long days like this were and how tiring they were and he wanted nothing more than to stay here. You bit your lip gentle wanting to reassure him that it would be over soon but knew he had so much more socializing to do and he was near his wits end.

Then, an idea hit you.

“Tell me more,” you comment as you wiggle out of his lap and kneel behind him to give him a massage. You feel him relax under your touch and you smile gently as you continue. It’s a nice gesture but it’s mainly a distraction. When he’s relaxed enough you pull away as he continues to ramble as you slide off the bed and move to stand between his legs. Gently pushing him on the bed Logan’s let out a small huff of a laugh as he tosses an arm over his eyes. Perfect. Stripping out of your pants and panties, you crawl onto the bed and swat his arm away. The second his arm is to his side you’re swinging a leg over, trapping his head between his thighs and sitting down.

It takes a millisecond for Logan to realize what’s going on before you groan feeling his tongue on your clit. Your hands fly to his hair for purchase as he happily runs his tongue over your clit. Long slow strokes before short kitten licks. It sends a shiver of pleasure up your body as you buck your hips forward. His hands quickly find your thighs gripping tightly as he traps you. You tilt your head back groaning loudly as you roll your hips as you two find your rhythm quickly since Logan loves being between your thighs.

You let praises fall from your lips between the moans and gasps falling from your face. It should be illegal with how good Logan is from your clit to your cunt as he opens you up with his tongue. Even though you guys haven’t been together for long he had made it his mission to learn your body inside and out. How you liked him switching between slow licks and fast licks. How your eyes rolled when he teased your clit with circles before sucking. How your hips bucked when he slipped his tongue in and slowly fucked you open. How if he tilted his head back just enough he could get deeper brushing against your g-spot, causing you to throw your head back and let out the most delicious sounds. How if he switched the routine up it drove you mad and close to your orgasm which he was very much intending to do but that’s not on your agenda.

Your chest was heaving as you felt the familiar coil starting to form in your abdomen. You force yourself to let go of his hair to wedge your fingers under his and pries his hands off your thighs before you lift yourself up. Looking down, you wish you could take a picture but a mental one will do. Logan’s hair was wild against the sheets, eyes wide and pupils blown. His face was flushed a beautiful shade of pink and his mouth and chin was shiny with your juices. His fingers twitched in your hands as he stared up at you neither one daring to move as he whines. He became such a beautiful mess so quickly for you.

“Yes?”

“I need—” he gulps slightly.

“You need what?” You tease.

His mouth opens and then closes as he tries to find the words. You know exactly what he wants and you’re tempted to give it to him, “stay,” you command as your grip on his hands loosens so you can easily move off of him and slink off the bed and onto the floor.

“Sit up,” you say while stroking the inside of his thigh and he does looking down at you. Looking up at him, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and he groans tipping his head back slightly. You swirl your tongue around the tip before flattening your tongue along the underside of his cock. Hallowing your cheeks, you start to bob your head. You watch his hands start to go to your hair but stop knowing better than to touch without permission so he grabs the sheets as if it’s a life line. You place your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you continue prepping yourself. He’s babbling above you begging for more. He’s not specific with what he wants but that’s typical for him.

When you’re relaxed you happily take him down your throat, nose against his navel, and Logan throws his head back letting out a moan. Internally, you smirk at how loud he was. Usually he tried to be reserved and letting himself be focused on your pleasure but today was about him. You pull off to the tip before going straight back down and he tenses to keep himself still knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto the sheets. You continue for a bit longer before you pull off with a pop before standing.

“Lay down,” you say gesturing to the pillows and Logan scrambles laying on his back as his head hits the pillow. You wince for him since he was so close to hitting the headboard but it was a miracle he didn’t. That would’ve been one way to kill the mood and end the day for sure. Getting onto the bed, you straddle your boyfriend who’s breathing heavily from anticipation. Smirking at the mess you’ve already made of him, you grab the base of his cock and line yourself up before sliding down.

In unison you both groan as you put your hands on his chest for leverage. Once you’re bottomed out you take a moment to adjust. You start to move your hips in small circles sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as Logan turns his head to the side, groaning again.

“Babe I—”

“Shhh, I know. It’s okay,” you murmur as you run your hands over his chest, “I got you. Just lay there and let me hear all your pretty noises. Can you do that for me?”

Logan whines in response again.

“Logan.”

“Yes,” he breaths out, “Yes I—I can do that.”

“Good boy.”

Raising your hips you sink back down and tilt your head back. It’s been a while since you two have actually had time to have sex and it felt like the first time all over again. Just with how well he filled you up and it felt like a punch to the gut (pun intended…maybe). You start out with this slow rhythm hearing how Logan groaned and moaned under you whining and asking for more.

You work yourself on his cock picking up the pace as you go. You lean back, gasping at the new angle as your hands find purchase on his thighs. “Oh fuck—” you manage out between the moans. “Yes, fuck yes baby so good.” You ramble on as his head tosses to the side, hands gripping the pillows, the sheets, anything that isn’t you.

“I—fuck babe—please—” Logan gasps.

“Please what?”

“Let me touch you. Fuck. Babe. Please. Please please please,” he begs, “need to touch you. Please, shit, babe you look so good riding me, please,” He begs, “been so good for you.”

“Such a good boy,” you purr out, “okay.”

His hands fly to your hips. His eyes trained on you. How your lips are parted. The slight sweat starting to form on your forehead as your hair sticks to it. How your eyes are fluttering close.

“Let me move. Please baby,” he begs, “you’ve done so much work,” he’s rambling, “wanna make you feel good. Please let me make you feel good. God fuck babe I wanna make you feel good.”

You’re lost in your own little world as Logan rambles on. You’re so close of finding that spot and you shift to lean forward, hands back on his chest. One hand fumbles but it covers Logan’s mouth as you continue, slamming your hips down on him. Your eyes go wide and you see stars when you find it, throwing your head back as you continue. “Fuck—oh right there. Shit—” you moan out as you fall into an endless cycle of moans, groans, and cursing. You can feel Logan’s lips against your hand still moving but between your own noises and the absolutely filthy obscene noises you two were making it was drowned out.

Your body is on fire. Your legs are straining and you’re getting tired but you continue. You feel the coil forming once again and your hand drops to Logan’s throat as you wrap your hand around, squeezing slightly. He lets out a strangled gasp mostly out of shock before he moans. “You—fuck—” you breath heavily, “yes move.”

Logan did not need to be told twice. Gripping your hips tight enough that will surely leave bruises, not that you really minded, he snapped his hips up when you came down. You screamed - you’re pretty sure you did but you can’t be quiet to sure with the stars you were seeing and everything else drowning out expect Logan’s voice. He’s thanking you over and over, telling you how amazing you are and how you treat him so so well. He matches your pace and you can’t even prepare yourself as your orgasm is ripped out of you.

You grip his throat tighter and he lets out another strangled groan. Your body shakes as you continue riding him babbling about how good he’s fucking you, how pretty he is like this, how only you get to see him like this, and how only you can make him feel this good. He’s trying to speak but it’s hard and you manage to loosen your grip. He gasps for air before the words are slipping past his lips.

“Please. Oh god please let me cum. Please I’m so—I’m so fucking close. Babe. I need—” he chokes on air as tears form, “god please.”

You feel limp. You’ve slowed your own pace down but he continues with the pace. You manage an ‘yes, you can cum’ through moans and whines. It takes three more thrust before Logan’s spilling into you, head thrown back and groaning loudly as his eyes roll in the back of his head slightly. He continues to fuck you through his own orgasm before he finally comes down.

You’re both shaking slightly at this point. You force yourself to pull off of him, feeling his cum ooze out of you as you end up collapsing on top of Logan as the two of you catch your breath. Moving his hands to your hips, he gently massages them as he kisses the top of your head. You let your eyes slip close as your breathing returns to normal smiling to yourself as you listen to his heartbeat. “Better?” You ask finally breaking the comfortable silence.

“Much better. Thank you babe, I really needed that,” he says and plants a soft kiss to your hair.

“Of course. You know all you have to do is ask.”

Logan huffs a laugh out which earns an eye roll out of you. You turn your head so you can look at him and he’s smiling at you, leaning down to kiss your nose as you wiggle it. “I know,” he says, “I’m…working on it.”

“I know, and I’m proud. But with a schedule like this you have to be more keen on making sure you’re okay. Really.”

“I know. I know,” he nods as he speaks, “now come on, we gotta get cleaned up so we can go to dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah,” Logan blinks, “the meet and greet starts at six. So I thought we could grab an early dinner at a little mom and pops diner I found. Come on,” he gently sits up with you still on his chest. You squeak when he’s got his arms under your ass and shifting before you two are standing legs instinctively wrapping around his waist with a grin, “I’m paying this time.”

“You paid last time!” You argue as he laughs taking you both to the bathroom to get clean before dinner.

[spooky-bunnys]

Alpha Draken x Omega Male Reader x Alpha Mikey

Sunlight leaked into the bedroom where two Alpha's were laying. One on each sides the middle empty. The Alpha on the right reached towards the middle and quickly sat up when he realized it was empty. He quickly woke up the Alpha on the left. "Ken-chin wake up!" Draken groaned and turned over. "5 more minutes Mikey." "But (Name)-chin isn't in bed!"

That woke him up. Draken quickly sat up and looked at the middle of the bed. Empty. He put his hand down. Cold. "When did he wake up?! He's 8 months pregnant how did he leave the bed without us knowing!?" Both Alpha's quickly left the bed hurriedly put on shirts and pants and were rancing out of the bedroom door. Half-way through the hallway they could smell delicious food.

'Kitchen' they thought. When they finally arrived to he kitchen they saw their beautiful (hair colored) omega making breakfast. Four bento's made. Their twin boys sitting at the breakfast table. "(Name)-chin?" (Name) turned to his alphas and smiled brightly. 'Angel' both Alpha's thought. "Morning Alpha's! Did you sleep well?" Mikey nodded kissed (Name) softly and sat at the table quietly talking to the twins.

Draken shook his head and smirk softly. "How did you leave the bed without waking us up?" (Name) looked at him confused. "But I woke up Jiro hungry for (food) and he told me to make it myself and when I realized the time I figured, Hey I could make it for breakfast!" The smile the Omega's face could melt any cold heart.

Draken froze repeating what (Name) said in his head before he glared at Mikey. "You told our 8 month pregnant Omega to get. No. MAKE. The food he's craving!?" Mikey froze and a look of horror flashed across his face. "I thought I dreamed that" Miey spoke quietly. (Name) giggled and put breakfast on the table and kissed the twins heads.

"My handsome boys! Ready for school? Momma has to finish making your bento's then he'll join your for breakfast!" That's when the younger twin spoke up. "A-Actually momma I don't want a bento today." The heart break on (Name)'s face spoke many things. Draken and Mikey froze. They knew how important food was to him.

That's how they met. The boys skipped class one day in middle school. They were running around beating up bad delinquents. When Mikey got hungry but there wasn't any restaurants nearby and Draken was broke. That's when they met a sweet Omega who was home schooled. He shared with them his bento and the rest was history. They fell for his kindness and delicious food.

"B-But Momma put so much love in it baby..." (Name) looked like he was gonna cry and with how crazy his hormones were he actually might. Draken quickly changed topics and moved the Omega back into the kitchen talking about dinner, while Mikey stared at the twins. They had both his and Drakens features. Both Alpha's loved (Name)'s cooking so something had to be wrong.

"Who did what?" Mikey's question made the twin freeze. (A! Kid Name) looked at his younger brother with a worried expression. His brother was an omega and sometimes got picked on at school. He wasn't always there to save him and that scared him. (O! Kid Name) looked up and whined. He didn't like being in trouble. "A-An Alpha keeps taking my bento..." The air froze as Draken who had been standing in the door way spoke with a calm voice. "What?"

After explaining what's been happening Mikey and Draken were ready to round up Toman and go on a hunt. Luckily (Name) calmed his Alpha's down. "Why don't we talk to the Alpha and his parents? Maybe we can settle this." Mikey and Draken shared a look and nodded. 'If we want him to disappear, so does his family.' As if he knew what they were thinking (Name) sent the two a hard look.

Later that week both sets of parents were in the principals office. All 3 kids with both parents the teacher and the principal. Mikey and Draken were staring down the young Alpha. This is the kid terrorizing their baby. His parents didn't look different considering they just learned that their son is picking on a Omega. "Son! How dare you?! We raised you better then this!" His parents were giving him a lecture that would last generations.

(O! Kid Name) looked to be in tears. He didn't mean to get the boy in trouble. That's when the other kid spoke and froze everyone. "It's because I like him!" Mikey and Draken felt their hearts stop and their blood turn cold. (Name) smiled brightly and bent down the best he could. Considering he could pop at any moment. "Aww my baby already has an admire! Well why don't I make more so you two could share?"

That snapped the two Alpha's out of their minds. Share? They remembered how they met and fell in love and paled. "NO!" Everyone jumped at the two Alpha's yelling! (Name) looked confused. "Why not?" The two grabbed the twins and held them close. "Their too young!" Mikey wailed. Draken nodded face serious. "Not my little baby!"

(Name) shook his head. A fond smile on his face. That smile left when he felt water hit the floor. "Speaking of baby." He spoke gaining everyone's attention. "My water just broke." It was like hell froze over and chaos began.

[writingoddess1125]

What do you do Dad?

Simon Riley + OOC Children

Support me on Ko-Fi!

Your children ask about their fathers job

Fluffy

It was days like this Simon lived for- Were he could just relax and let his guard down just a little.. enjoy time with his family and get a taste of domestic bliss- Seated on the sofa with his 5 year old triplets piled on him like he was a bed and they were all watching Bluey, You'd had him watch the litter while you picked up the dog Riley from the groomers.

Hazel was nestled on his left just under his arm and curled into his side- Rose sitting on his lap with her head on his chest and Johnny sitting in his right arm with his head tucked onto Simon's neck.

It was defiently a bit cramped for Simon's taste but he wasn't one to complain- Especially since it ment time with his kids watching cartoons all day and wiping boogers.

"Daddy?" Hazel voice cut through the man's thoughts, Simon humming in response as he waited for his daughters question.

"What do you do?" She asked, Simon confused by the question as he looked at Hazel who was staring up at him with big eyes.

"What do you mean Dove?"

"At your job when you go away? What do you do?" Hazel ask, Simon feeling a Sinking feeling in his chest at her question as he stared at the matching eyes before him. He had been dreading this day, he truly had and what made it worse was you not being there to help him- His mind flashing the horrors he had done, the smell of gunpowder seemingly filling his nose from nowhere and he felt like his mask was brushing against his face. The feeling of Ghost wrapping his fingers around his heart again and getting to close to comfort to his children- bringing fear into mouth.

Why did you have to go to pick up the Dog from the groomers today..

"I do a lot of things Bug.." He started, watching how she scrunched her face in mild irritation clearly able to tell he was dodging the real answer. The dodging made Rose look up and seem curious as well, Johnny shifting as well at feeling his father become uncomfortable. They were all too smart to let it go as well, He blamed you for that..-

Sitting up some more he gently pulled them from his sides and set them all on his lap facing him in order to listen equally.

"I work for the military, I'm a soldier- So my job is to help other people get to safety from bad guys" He worded the best he could, Hazel staring at her father as he said this and chewing over his words.

"How?" Johnny signed, For the first time that day wanting to 'speak' it seemed. Simon almost wishing that his Lad didn't ask.

"By fighting"

"It is, But remember how I've always said you should never hit first but if they hit you, it's okay? It's like that- They hit first and so they send me to hit back" He explained as carefully as possible.

Rose face twisted up at this, Surprised by his words. His little princess, a gentle soul who was sad by the idea of her father fighting.

"But fighting is bad- is that why you have booboos?" She said softly, Simon wincing at her words. He figured he'd hidden some of the scarier scars better so they didn't see them, Seemed not.

Simon waited for- something? His anxiety up and prepared for something negative...

But instead Hazel moved first, going right back to her spot happily.

"So You're like the hero people on TV right?" She seemed to reason, Simon nodding calmly as she settled back in. Seemingly satisfied with the answer and line of thinking- Johnny next moving back to his spot giving a thumbs up also in agreement. Rose being the last, Looking to her siblings and seeing them seemingly fine with what they had learned- So she returned as well and the trio went back to watching Cartoons.

Simon sat there, a bit shocked in truth. He'd expected more? But he was happy there wasnt... he knew they were way to young to truly understand what he did, but he preferred it that way.

A wash of peace falling over him once more and he settle back in for the cartoons. Ghost once again falling away and hidden from his precious family-

"I love you lot so much..."

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Sweet Baby (see previous or series)

Summary: 'Grant' becomes comfortable enough to tell you who he is, and you get comfortable enough to show him the kindness he deserves.

Warnings for description of minor blood/injury and light smut (mentions of morning wood, dry humping, hair pulling, praise kink? maybe coached orgasm?). This series is 18+ only. MINORS DNI. There is plenty else for you youngins to read on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for you! WC 2.6k

Warmer months are for updating the rooms, so they are on a rotation of renovation. There are really busy times and really slow times based on events in town, but there’s an understanding with Grant’s ‘party’ of friends that, if needed, they can stay in the room closed for repair. It’s not as if any room is uninhabitable when they need a coat of paint and some plumbing tune-ups.

Clark doesn’t remember you told him about this—you used the excuse that Grant ’s company are handymen (and women) who come in between other jobs,—so the front desk kid calls you while you’re out running errands one day.

Two ‘dudes’ want to stay in room eight on the end. So? Let them. Those are the people who fix things. Clark just says “kay.”

When you pull into the lot hours later, you don’t expect to find Grant sitting on the curb, filthy and exhausted in some gym clothes, a plastic bag set at his feet.

“Wha’ch’a waiting for?” you call with the window down, hoping his spirits can lift easily.

Grant peers up at you through long lashes. He’s had a knock-down drag-out with a field of bramble…or something. That’s when you notice dark, dried blood in the grime stuck to him, and he lets out a long sigh.

“Sa—Tom used all the hot water,” he huffs, “so I’m biding my time.”

Their room’s water tank, the one due for maintenance, is going to take an eternity to reheat, and it’s the worst luck that there really are no other rooms available.

“Hop on in. You can use the bath up at the house.”

He looks just as startled as you by the invitation, but in no simple terms can you express how bad it is to have a huge guy covered in blood hanging out in front of your rural motel. That’s horror movie bait.

You know Grant. You trust him. All he needs is to clean himself up.

He checks behind him again. The same mix of seeking approval or seeking the cover of ignorance returns to his pretty features, and he trots over to the passenger seat of the car, plastic bag in hand.

He helps you bring in the groceries and supplies from town even though you point him in the direction of the upstairs bathroom immediately. There’s a big jacuzzi tub in there, and he is welcome to soak for however long he wants. You’ll even wash his clothes in the mean time, if he’d like.

Grant seems hesitant to accept or argue.

You press on.

Showing him where everything is in the bathroom takes a minute. You fish around a cupboard for the muscle-relaxing milk additive, explaining it may help him…if needed. You don’t know what’s happened, so you’re flying blind for options.

When the tap turns off ten minutes later, silence descends, but he never handed you stuff to wash. You knock and try the door, just to crack it open so he can hear you.

First, you notice the color of the water. He used the milk bath alright, but whatever washed immediately off him has saturated and soured the clean white into a rusty tan. Second, you pick up the pile of clothes and find more in the plastic bag, except…it’s a suit with a star decal half-ripped and dangling from the chest. Third, you realize you can’t see him in the water at all, not his feet, not his head, no bubbles, so you rush in and shove your hands beneath the surface.

He shoots up in alarm, gasping and sloshing to a different wide, rounded corner of porcelain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you shriek, hands out and spread wide. “I just thought—I don’t know—I didn’t know if you’d—sorry!”

He rubs his hands down his face and over his dripping hair. He doesn’t even speak; he just waves for you to stop apologizing and clears water shot up his nose.

You have to collapse to the fuzzy rug and hold your heart before it beats right out of your ribcage. You still repeat “sorry” a few more times and then manage an impressed “wow, you kept all the water in.”

He thunks his head back to the lip of the tub and props up one leg, his knee cresting the surface. “I have a talent…”

The dirt, despite how much clearly came off already, is smeared grossly across him.

He looks so tired.

“May I—“ you grab the shampoo bottle all the way at his feet “—help?”

Defeated in more ways than one, he nods through the same concerned and confused gaze that’s become his signature. He maneuvers nearer you while you carefully wet your hands, starting a lather. His head stays down, spine exposed, as you massage at the base of his skull.

His eyes shut.

Your heart now swells with accomplishment; you gave this man a moment of peace.

Fingers gliding over the sinewy, tight bands beneath soft hairs, you press circles around and around his scalp. He cranes backwards while you move up and over the crown of his head, and by just above his ears, he’s laying his full weight in the water, lax against the rim.

You keep going long after his hair is strictly clean, though you’ll recommend he rinse after soaking because the water is too foul to count on.

He remains quiet, so you dip your hands in the water at his shoulders, shake them about, and move on to scrubbing his face clean, too, working down from the hairline and over his beard.

Somewhere around his throat, the man sniffs.

He sniffs again, raising a hand from the water to stop yours.

“My name isn’t…” His eyes open finally, only to stare blankly at the ceiling. “My name is Steve.”

“Okay,” you say, abandoning the washing to sit back on the mat again. “Do you want me to call you that or Grant?”

He turns, brows furrowed, and in the most authoritative voice, he replies, “you can’t tell anyone.”

You rest your chin on the lip of the tub, too. “I know. I won’t.”

Eyes locked, you two stare at each other for a long beat.

“The Captain America suit kinda gave it away though,” you whisper, and to your surprise and delight, Steve flicks water at you in retaliation.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, “handle yourself in here while I go start the laundry.”

You stretch and almost—almost—kiss his forehead because, for whatever reason, that feels right, but at the last second you tuck your head down, acting like you were just standing up. You can’t bring yourself to look back at him while gathering the clothes.

You keep busy downstairs, scrubbing at a few spots of caked on muck, trying not to listen to the sounds of splashing, the squeaking as he moves around, the rush of the draining bath, and the tap turning back on to rinse him again. You scramble to find the biggest t-shirt and pair of pants you own (although, come to think of it, Steve’s got fairly small hips, so you grab some stretchy sweats) and hand them through the door when realizing he has nothing else to wear.

He emerges with several visible cuts and scrapes but dismisses your offer to treat them.

“It’s not worth the effort. They’ll be gone by morning.”

You’ve decided something: if he doesn’t bring it up, you won’t either.

Whatever he wants to tell you, whenever he wants to tell it, you don’t ask. You are used to keeping guests’ confidence—not that anyone tells you deep, dark secrets, but you refuse to gossip about cleanliness or things in the trash—and ‘Grant’ will be no different.

You can, however, still tease him.

“Ready to share that queen bed with Tom?” You give his beefy arm a playful punch.

Steve groans.

“Kidding,” you beam. “I’m not making you walk that path in the dark right now. An elk could get ya!”

He pinches tired eyes, a ghost of a smirk realigning the hairs of his beard. You imagine that on any other day, he would put up more of a fight, but he’s fought enough.

“Yeah, okay. As long as I won’t scare the daylights out of your parents by being on the couch in the morning.” Steve steps over to the landing at the top of the stairs.

“They’re at a hospitality conference. I run the place…mostly. Besides, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t offer you a bed that fits you?” You dramatically bow and indicate your room. “This way, please, sir.”

Good thing he has no fight left in him. His eyes narrow adorably, but he doesn’t budge.

“I should let Tom know.”

“There is a phone in there, too. I’ll dial room eight.”

You get him some water, hanging his clothes to dry, offering as much privacy as you can in an old house with thin walls.

“Yeah, hi, it’s…yes, yes, I’m… Yeah, I know. I know, Sam, just—you don’t have to laugh about it. She let me use the bath, is all. You’re the one who—Well, don’t take all the damn wa—hello? Hello?” Steve is staring at the receiver of the land line when you appear in the doorway. “Uh, he…gets it.”

He sits on the edge of your bed, glancing around your neither childish nor sterile room. You put the glass down on your side table instead of handing it to him.

“Okay, I think you need rest,” you add, sweeping your hand down his bare arm.

You marvel at how the edges of his cuts are already shrinking, knitting back together in near-realtime. Your fingertips trace around the skin like an interactive roadmap.

First heal this, then he needs this, and this is deeper here.

You wonder whether he feels pain the same as everyone else. Is it dulled? Does he just have to ignore how much and how frequently he hurts because it goes away sooner? That’s a sad thought to you. Just because he’ll be okay, doesn’t mean he should suffer more.

He’s a miracle. As Grant, Steve, Cap, or nobody at all, he’s still a miracle.

“You don’t have to go…”

The last of the evening blurs as you wake, but you remember Steve needed this. He asked you to stay.

Spooning is the only way to fit on the bed together. After finishing your own bedtime routing, you began behind the giant man, curled tight, lightly scratching over his broad shoulders and arms. He fell asleep so quickly, and you don’t recall how long after that you both turned over. You had to drape Steve’s awkward arm around you, show him he could hold you close, assure him he can be as comfortable as he likes.

Whichever way he settled is infinitely better than falling off the bed, and you’re grateful he’s accommodating in a small space. You suppose he has to be. Though, for a man as dense as a brick wall, he is shockingly pliant around you. 

Shame you have to stretch, ruining the picture of fitting puzzle pieces you’ve become.

Arms out and legs long, you roll, restless on the one side for too long in the night. Steve shifts around your moves, laying his head on your arm instead of the pillow. His arm that was your pillow wedges down by your waist instead.

Your knees knock his, so even in sleep, he lets them slot through, legs entangled and…his erection laying over your thigh, the tip poking your hip.

Your body tenses for a split second, the muscles of your leg brush harder against his cock, and Steve groans softly, the arm draped over you pulling your body closer.

He’s still asleep, breathing easy, his features totally relaxed.

His golden hair shines in the early light, and he’s so, so beautiful.

You move stray locks from his face, enjoying how he nuzzles and sighs as you play. Quiet, lazy touches.

His hips nudge forward for friction. His fingers grab at your nightshirt. One of his shifts angles his length to drive against your mound instead, and you gasp involuntarily, having smothered your excitement for too long.

He stirs, a heavier, longer breath followed by Steve's whole body going rigid and his eyes squeezing shut. He tries to bury his face in your arm, and you can’t help it. You hope he’ll continue.

You shush him, carding through his hair to soothe him as you did in the bath.

There’s nothing wrong.

He can feel good.

He should feel good.

You want him to feel good. Hell, you don’t say it, but you need to make him feel good.

Steve still won’t face you. He leans closer, shielding himself with your chest, but he doesn’t pull his hips away.

You can hear him thinking through his options groggily, and in your nervousness, you pull at the fistful of hair in your hand.

Steve whimpers and juts his pelvis forward.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “Did you like that? Does that feel nice, Stevie?”

His abs flutter with a spasming exhale, but he says nothing. His rough hands dig into your back while he desperately seeks more friction.

You let him—you encourage him—to keep going.

“Whatever you need…it’s okay.”

He pants into your skin, making you sweat while he dissolves into a mewling mess of shame, taking what he deserves.

He bends his leg for leverage, the sole of his foot pressing flush to your calf. You feel his thumping heartbeat along all of your skin that touches his. He swallows moans which sound hollow and deep where they die in his chest before Steve grunts and stretches, the whole underbelly of his cock rubbing your inner thigh and baiting your clit mercilessly with almost-contact.

You release his hair, asking “do you want my han—”

But it’s too late.

Steve seizes you in his last moments hard before he stills, palms so wide you’ll feel the marks over an entire shoulder blade and the breadth of skin from your ass to your ribcage.

You yelp, the nails of your trapped hand clawing at the sheets around you. It’s a good pain. It’s worth it to witness how his body melts into yours after he comes. He’s lax and heavy, pathetic convulsions of ecstasy subsiding.

You’re only just starting to feel the wet fabric on your thigh when he peels away and rushes to the bathroom.

The best thing for him is to act normal. It is normal for him to be hard in the morning, to want contact and satisfaction, and the truth is it’s perfectly normal for you to dream of providing that for him. You want that contact with him. You are satisfied when he is satisfied.

That's scary because it's a secret as hidden from you both as his identity now, but you won't talk about it. If he doesn't ask, then he doesn't want the answer. It's better that way.

So that was okay, and this is okay.

It's okay, and you tell him when you bring his gym clothes back to the door. You repeat it as he walks out of your home unable to look you in the eye, his partially-destroyed past life wadded up in a fresh plastic bag.

At the bottom of the porch steps, he turns, still focused on the ground.

“Thank you for the…the bath.”

You can’t tell anyone about him—about how you feel for him—not even him. It wouldn’t be right. He doesn’t want that.

“I’m glad you feel better, Grant.”

A/N: Google, Play 'Hopelessly Devoted To You.' *starts weeping some more*

[Next Part: Sensitive Boy, Part I]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[ornii]

Tara Carpenter x Male Reader?

Funny enough, I was never a big Horror Fan so the Scream series went under my radar. Conveniently enough I decided to watch the latest one and I gotta say not too bad.

Trust

Takes years to form, can be broken in one moment.

After a short but memorable service in the Army, you were able to take an honorable discharge after barely a year, after searching a Home you saved your squad from a makeshift IED. It Left a few scars, but that was the last of the physical damage, mental damage can never truly be measured and heal fully, but you’re managing. Hearing the Murders of Woodsboro, and Tara surviving thankfully.

You and Tara had been friends since moving to Woodsboro years ago, just kids at the time but there was something really different about her, you couldn’t put your finger on it but she always lit up the room, and specifically took your breath away. Leaving for Basic Training, you never got a chance to admit it, but you knew once you returned it was the first thing to do on your bucket list.

So when you were discharged, Blackmore University was a nobrainer to attend. But it was only downhill after that, the Killings return, and it seemed to return just as you did.

It was all too much of a coincidence for anyone else to ignore. So they did the only sensible thing.

You were standing in the middle of the apartment, unsure of what to do. You were essentially surrounded by Tara, Sam, Chad, and Ethan. “I don’t understand..” you said, your eyes tracing along the eyes staring at you. “You think.. it’s me?” You ask. And Chad stepped up first.

“We heard what happened at Woodsboro, it just, takes someone pretty skilled to do that stuff..” he said, Chad had an attitude that he didn’t want to believe it, but a capable man with a knife is pretty tough. You looked over to everyone else, Quinn seems indifferent, Sam was reluctant to speak and Tara couldn’t look you in the eye.

“Tara, Tara look at me…” you pleaded, Teary eyed she slowly looks up to meet your gaze.

“You really think I could do this? I came back here for you, why would I…” you slowly trail off, silent as you truly were at a loss.

“I don’t want to believe it..” she said, “but.. it just all looks bad..” She admits, and that truly broke your heart, the one person you wanted to believe you, before you could say anything, Ethan walks over putting his arm around Tara to try to soothe her. Ethan always had a slimy attitude, and you never really felt, safe around him. But seeing him do that to Tara made your skin crawl. Something about this, about all of this, was way off.

“(Y/n), Quinn’s dead, we have to stop this before more people die; if it isn’t you then the police are gonna release you.” Sam explains, and they wheel an office chair with arms over for you to sit. Seeing how distressed Tara was, you very reluctantly sat down on it, and allowed them to bind your arms to the chair. Tapping your foot restlessly, you eyed Ethan. “Feel safer now?” You said obviously with sarcasm, and Ethan give this look. Of disappointment.

“Look I know service does a lot to the brain.” He started, and you realized just what he’s about to do.

“No you fucking don’t..” you cut him off sternly and harshly, knowing his plan to blame your PTSD and use it to label someone as unstable. Ethan gives you another look, as if he’s hiding a smile.

“Let’s give him some fresh air at least, would be better for him.” Ethan walks over and calmly pushes you to the balcony, “it’s for your own good.” He mutters a bit abruptly, and walks back to the others, you can’t hear what they’re saying but Tara eyes you a few times. You wanted to plead and beg for her to listen to you, but it would have been for nothing, she’s already convinced it was you. Your train of thought was cut off by footsteps around you, mostly above, you hear them and look up to see someone heading down, it was too dark to make out who it was, but once you saw the flash of steel with their knife you instantly knew.

“Guys! Guys!” You shook and kicked to get their attention, they all looked over as you fought to break free. You screamed for help, It was too late, heading down the fire escape, Ghostface made their appearance, grabbing your legs they lifted you up and over the balcony, you felt the instant dizzying sensation of being tossed and your head slammed hard against the lower balcony rail, it all went dark after that but you tumbled against more rails and slammed on a hard sheet metal roof and slid off onto the ground.

Somehow, you still lived. Opening your eyes slowly you see the hard New York ground and the wheels of a dumpster, using what strength you had you were able to stand up, seems the chair broke most of your fall, but still causing cuts and bruises and probably a cracked rib or two. Using the dumpster you prop yourself up and reach into your pocket with your bloody hands to your cracked IPhone, it was near impossible to make any calls, but one app did catch your eye. Find my IPhone. Tapping on Tara’s name you spot her location, a old theatre. Tearing off the tape on your wrists you look around for anything to defend yourself, all you see is a sharp end of plastic from the fallen chair. Snatching it you make you plan.

You stand up, feeling a hot burning pain in your leg, specifically your ankle which probably has a torn ligament or shattered bone. You push the pain down and limp your way to the theatre. Pushing the door open with your bloody palms you limped in, to a sight you least expected. You watched Ethan terrorize Tara, who looks ready to fall off a ledge, Sam barely holding on as Quinn, who never was dead approaches, and Detective Bailey, aiming a gun at them all. It was all a ploy to kill you and lessen the numbers. Ethan’s words “for your own good” kept running in your head, he set you up to get killed. All that military training began to pay off, you crouched with a bad limp and had to crawl to avoid making too much noise, you crept up behind Bailey and didn’t hesitate. You took the sharp plastic and rammed it into the side of his neck with force. Using his other hand he tries to hold his neck to keep the blood loss. You reached and gripped his hand hard, forcing him to Aim at Quinn and crushing his tigger finger. A bullet flies and almost hits Quinn, Sam looks up to see you and you continue to force him to pull the trigger until one bullet gets lodged right in the head of Quinn. She drops dead and so does Bailey. You stood there, silent as Ethan turns to see you. You didn’t care why he did it, you didn’t care to even ask.

“Get Tara up.” You gave Sam her order and she took the change to yank her sister up while you handled Eathan. He danced the knife around his hands, waiting for you make a move but you knew better. You kept calm and locked in. Ethan thrashed at you to land a hit but you kept calm, keeping your distance and avoiding close cuts. You watch in go for a stab, you open your arm, he goes past it and you lock his arm under yours, with one swift jerk up you snapped his arm, you cocked back and began to hammer his face in, punch after punch. Ethan stumbles around and with one judo throw you slammed him into a table, exhausted from the ass beating you promptly put on him, he lies there, laughing.

“You don’t deserve her, I always wanted to stick something in her… and she picks you, a fuckin freak who cries when fireworks go off..” Ethan spoke with venom though his bloody teeth. You looked at him, disgusted.

“Cry me a river.. and fuckin drown in it.” You grabbed him, dragged his head to the edge of the table and lifted up your arm and slammed your elbow right into his eyesocket, his neck snaps back with a crunch, as he lays there, dead. (Y/n) slumps down, exhausted. After dispatching three serial killers like John Wick he finally breathes as the nightmare is over.

The FBI and Police arrive, taking statements and doing some investigating and body clean up. You were getting the cuts and bruises patched up, and the ankle looked at.

“Hairline fracture. Gonna need some time for it to heal but you’ll be walking again.” The EMT gave a warm smile to you and went to tend to Sam. You leaned your head back to finally rest, you felt a presence approach, he could immediately tell it was Tara.

“…What do you want?” You said, you tilt your heard back forward and look at her. She looked good, even if she was getting murdered half an hour ago, still so.. beautiful. “Can We.. can we talk?” She said, almost in a whisper. You scoot over the ambulance seat to let her sit down.

“I’m… so sorry I didn’t believe you. And you almost got killed for it..” she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying, as angry as you were, she got baited into it, you put your arm around her.

“I wish you trusted me but I understand why you didn’t, let’s just, relax first.” You felt her lean into your arm, content with how things are finally.

“Yeah.” She closes her eyes to take in the moment, and you finally let this nightmare end.

[flowerfan2]

Steve doesn’t talk about his nightmares.  He assumes they all get them, it’s clearly just something you have to accept after going through the shit that they’ve gone through.  He deals with it, like he deals with everything.

One night he wakes from a nightmare and there’s someone in his room, and he’s frozen and he’s terrified and he can’t reach his bat.  He feels like his chest is about to explode until a second later when the figure moves in front of the window, hands held up in front of him and eyes wide with concern.

“Eddie,” Steve says, his voice scraping out of his body.  “What – what are you doing here?”

Eddie cocks his head.  “Many, many vodka shots, couldn’t drive home, crashed on your couch, etc. etc.  You don’t remember?”

Steve does, now, the sound of Eddie’s voice bringing reality back, and he nods.  “Yeah, uh, so many vodka shots.  But…?” he trails off, gesturing to his bedroom.  

“I heard you.”  Eddie shrugs, then climbs onto the bed like it’s no big deal, shoving aside the messy blankets and sitting cross-legged next to Steve.  For a moment he’s backlit by the light outside, his curls a frizzy halo.  “Nightmares suck.  You okay?”

Steve sucks in a long breath and pushes his sweaty hair out of his face with a shaking hand.  “Uh, sure.”  Eddie doesn’t look convinced.  He heard him.  “What, um, what did I say?”

Because sometimes the dreams are about things that actually happened, like him and his friends being attacked by monsters, and sometimes they’re about things that didn’t actually happen but almost did, like Eddie and Max dying.  Sometimes they’re about brand-new horrors that he hasn’t even experienced yet.  His mind is impressive that way.

“You just screamed a lot.”  Eddie holds his gaze, and Steve feels sick to his stomach.  Probably explains why he wakes up with his throat hurting so often.  Benefits of an empty house.

Eddie shifts, all limbs, and lays down on his side, head propped on one hand.  Steve’s plaid comforter is pushed down by his feet, and Eddie tucks his bare toes underneath it. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

Steve fights the urge to bury his face in his pillow.  “I can’t.”

Eddie accepts this and rolls to his back, hands clasped over his chest briefly until they start waving around as he speaks.  “I get nightmares all the time.  Always have.  Used to be they were about regular little kid stuff, then all the normal high school shit – showing up somewhere without your clothes on, whatever.  Wayne was always real nice about it, didn’t make me feel embarrassed, just kind of sat with me or brought me water, you know.”  Eddie glances over to Steve’s bedside table where there’s already a glass of water, and he meets Steve’s eyes.

“No, I’m good,” Steve says, with a little snort.  “Do you, um, have different nightmares now?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Eddie says, turning back on his side to fully face Steve.  “I keep thinking they’ll be great material for song lyrics, or campaigns, once they stop scaring the living daylights out of me.  Worst ones are where I’m getting bitten over and over by those god damned demobats, man.  Fucking sharp-ass teeth, ripping me apart.  Hurts like hell, can’t believe how much it hurts.  And that thing where you wake up and still feel it, right, like the pain is real for a minute even though it’s just a dream?  Like a pain-echo?  God, I hate that.”

“Me too,” Steve says, and he takes in a deep breath and lets it out.  “It’s like that for me, too.  Really scary.”  He stretches, feeling some of the tension leave his body, and relaxes down into his pillow.  He no longer feels like he’s on a rollercoaster without a safety bar.  He’s not alone.  “Thanks.”

Eddie studies him, then reaches down and tugs on the sheet, eventually getting part of it untangled, and pulls it up over Steve’s legs.

Steve knows what’s going to happen next, but he suddenly can’t let it.  Without thinking too much about it, he reaches over and touches his hand to where Eddie’s lies between them on the bed.  “Would you stay?”

His heart is beating hard in his chest for a reason having nothing at all to do with nightmares, when Eddie twines his fingers together with Steve’s and nods, a shy smile tugging at his mouth.  “Yeah.”

[wrens-writings]

The Monster’s Gone

: ̗̀➛ Percy Jackson x platonic! child of Poseidon! reader

: ̗̀➛ in which big brother Percy saves the day

: ̗̀➛ oh gods, folks. here it is! my first piece of writing posted to tumblr. i have absolutely zero clue about what it is that i’m doing, but here we go!

: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS: bad writing (probably), allusions to angst. i don’t think anything else? lmk if i missed anything 🫶

percy adores being a big brother. someone that only he gets to pick on? that’s a bonus, yea, but the real reason he loves it? watching his little siblings grow up and experience the things their lives would offer.

with tyson, percy was his friend before he was his brother, but he still helps him to understand the world above the sea when applicable. tyson is like an overgrown puppy, a comparison that many people, including sally jackson herself, have pointed out.

and then of course, there’s sweet little estelle, who has her whole life ahead of her that percy just cannot wait to be a part of.

but then comes the outlier. you. don’t get him wrong! he loves you as much as he does all of his siblings. but you’re so traumatized that he just… doesn’t know what to do with you?

when he got to camp for the summer, excited and eager for a killer two and a half months with his girlfriend and his best friends, he was taken aback. normally, himself and tyson were the only two to be in poseidons cabin. yet there you were, a small 11 year old wringing their hands together in cabin 3.

percy had looked at you, eyes wide and full of confusion. “annabeth.” he murmured to the pretty blonde who stood beside him.

“yes, percy?” she responded carefully, seemingly already knowing what he was going to say next.

percy turned to his girlfriend, his face twisted with conflicting emotions. “why is there a child in my cabin and where did they come from?”

and thus begins the summer of percy jackson awkwardly tiptoeing around his new sibling. annabeth had explained to him that the poor kid was chucked into the foster system at a young age, forced to be exposed to more horrors than he would’ve liked for a sibling of his. but with those horrors, came a small issue.

how was he meant to get to know you if you were scared of your own shadow from the trauma you experienced? he knows firsthand just how terrifying this world can get. hades, he fought the chimera when he was just a year older than you and would’ve died if it weren’t for poseidon himself!

it isn’t all bad though. percy knows a handful of things about you. he knows that you like the beach (which, hey, so does he!), he knows that you like spicy food, reading, drawing, and he knows that you’ll probably shit bricks when you inevitably encounter your first monster.

the poor boy has this innate desire to protect you in the way you’ve never been protected before, but he’s so afraid to make you upset or uncomfortable. he’s stuck at a crossroads. so, what does he do?

wallows in his own mind because adhd is a bitch! eventually, despite his whining and complaining at the idea of hurting you, annabeth and grover manage to talk some sense into him.

“guys, i- i don’t know. they’re so young and so scared of everything. how would i even-“

“percy!” grover cuts him off, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. “think of it from y/n’s perspective. they show up after getting exposed to a world they are actually so scared of, and the only thing that makes them feel better is the promise of a big brother.”

percy sits in silence, his ears burning red with shame. annabeth puts her hand on his arm softly with a kinder approach. “just go talk to them. i promise they won’t bite you.” she reassures him. ever the daughter of wisdom, that one.

percy nods and stands up, intent on finding his new sibling, wanting to put them at ease, even just a little bit. he sets off, initially heading towards the beach.

when he arrives, his lips tug down into a frown. despite the beautiful scenery of camp, especially the view from the beach, you aren’t here. he peers through the pretty, looming trees, trying to catch a glimpse of you. his frown only deepens at the sight of your book bag, but no you. “y/n?” he calls out, his voice laced with fear.

when he gets no response, he scoops up your bag and carries it with him towards cabin 3, figuring you just forgot it like the absent minded kid he hopes you are. except, you aren’t in the cabin either. now he’s starting to worry.

he puts your bag down on your bed neatly before rushing back out. he double checks the beach— nothing. he checks the dining pavilion— also nothing. he looks around the arena, the climbing wall, the archery range, even stopping into the infirmary to see if you’re laying there injured and no one thought to tell him. but he turns pale as a sheet when will solace tells him he hasn’t seen you.

percy runs into the forest, uncapping Riptide as he leaps over a fallen log. of course, you probably just wandered off by accident. after all, why would you leave your book bag at the beach?

a scream that sounds heartbreakingly like you echoes from further in the woods and instantly he heads in that direction. didn’t anyone tell you that the woods are full of monsters?!

he breaks through the trees, slashing his sword clean through a hellhound as it lunges towards you. after a terrifying few moments alone while he secures your safety, percy takes you into his arms.

the hug is tight, protective, full of warmth and love, fear and panic. “shh, i’ve got you…” he whispered in your ear, trying to soothe your fearful blubbering. “the monster’s gone. he’s on the run, and your big brother is here.” he reassures you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head.

he doesn’t care about the tears that soak his shirt, or even the snot that does the same thing. all he cares about is that you are safe and not injured. he pulls back from the tight hug briefly. “hey, kiddo. you hurt anywhere?” he whispers, his voice strained and fragile.

“n-no. ‘m okay…” you stammer out, your own voice matching his. he kisses your head again, breathing out a sigh of relief. “thank you, percy…” you whisper quietly in his ear. you can’t do much besides whisper at this point, and who is he to judge?

percy squeezes you tighter, his body shaking from the fear of you being hurt “always, kiddo. i’m always gonna be there when you need me. rain or shine, day or night. i’m your big brother. that’s my job.”

soooooo…? gimmie your thoughts, pls!! bare in mind that i’m scared shitless of constructive criticism tho 😭🤚

i’m not the greatest at writing fanfiction but i’m really eager to learn more. your feedback is much appreciated 🫶

[somegrumpynerd]

HEY. POINTS FINGER… any thoughts on how everyone reacted when the other joined the team? as in how did killer react when dust came, how did he and dust react when horror came, how did they all react when cross came, etc. i love love LOVE your bad sanses thoughts way too much they make me so happy. if i write hurt you write comfort and it’s awesome. also how do you think they slowly started to get closer? just.. bah give me your thoughts on them!!!! any thoughts!!!!!!!!!

You fool!! You’ve given me a chance to ramble about my special little guys and now this post will stretch on forever!! Mwahahahahah >:3c

No but seriously this is probably gonna be wicked long cause I have 1 million thoughts about these guys joining and meeting each other so uh, readmore for everybody’s safety and sanity

(^ I wrote that in the document before I started typing out my actual thoughts and uh

yeah no kidding, this is like a fucking essay so proceed with caution)

OKAY SO

I’ve said before that Nightmare got Dust for two reasons; one being that Dream had just recently started working with Ink (and soon Blue) so he and Killer were no longer able to gang up on Dream. He wanted somebody else to bulk up their numbers and give Killer a little back up. He also was starting to realise that Killer didn’t handle being alone very well, since this was when he most often got worked up and broke things around the castle (and sometimes tipped over into stage 3). Dust would be a perfect fit since he had the same amount of lvl and fighting experience as Killer, and since they were so close in circumstance they would be practically like brothers right?

The irony that he thought this about a guy he was recruiting to help kill his brother was apparently lost on him.

They absolutely hated each other. Like, it was instant. Killer saw him as a replacement, why would boss go out and get another sans - one with almost the same backstory as me - when I’m right here? Does he think I’m not good enough? Am I disposable and this is the backup for when I die in combat? He didn’t take it well. He took it all out on Dust too, not cooperating in battle, trying to start fights in the castle, etc. He couldn’t outright kill him because Nightmare had given him strict orders not to, but Killer loves a loophole. If he roughed Dust up down to 1hp and something else happened to finish him off, technically he’d followed orders.

Dust just straight up didn’t want to be there. Nightmare just showing up and yoinking him had worked fine with Killer, but Dust had wanted to sit in his empty au and die, he had no intention of joining a team or doing work of any kind - good or bad. The only reason he didn’t just lie down and refuse the entire time was that he had to fight back against Killer, as much as he wanted to die he refused to give this ass the satisfaction or lvl. He didn’t intend to be any help out in the field either, but again, Killer was making sure he got fired at so he had to retaliate to stay alive.

Eventually it got bad enough that Nightmare had to pull Killer aside and demand answers. In the year or so of knowing him Killer had never willfully disobeyed orders before, so Nightmare needed to know what had gotten into him. He dispelled the replacement rumour right away, he still wasn’t quite softened up enough to be sappy about it but he made sure Killer understood what a good worker he was and that Nightmare had no intention of losing him. It didn’t help a lot, they still hated each other for other reasons, but it eased a little.

Killer still had pretty frequent dips into stage 3, except now he would go straight for Dust usually. Nightmare had tried to explain what he’d learned about it to Dust, but he didn’t really believe that it wasn’t just Killer deciding to try and kill him for funsies. He only accepted it after a particular episode where he attacked Nightmare instead, which Dust knew Killer wouldn’t try in his right mind.

After he came back to his senses he sought Dust out. The air around Killer was very different after a stage 3, sort of sombre and almost calm, so Dust let them sit together and Killer apologised for giving him such a hard time. They actually talked for the first time in months while Killer was still calm (or tolerable, as Dust describes it), and it didn’t magically fix everything but, things were a little better. They still fought and argued and bothered each other but it wasn’t as sharp, there was a lack of real murderous intent in it all, and sometimes after an episode they would talk a little bit. It was the best Nightmare was going to get for now, so he took it.

They were still completely incompetent about taking care of themselves though. Neither of them would eat unless prompted and Nightmare didn’t have good enough knowledge of mortals to know when that should be to stop them passing out from hunger on the job. Not to mention the stars were now a full team, and with the way Killer and Dust would sometimes rather target each other on the field he could do with more backup.

Horror was the first of the group to get a choice in joining. Nightmare had taken note of how much Dust didn’t want to be part of things, and while it was in his best interests in the long run given his situation, Horror’s au was still mostly intact - though a little in disrepair. Horror was also the first in the group to have a good (and ongoing) relationship with his brother, so Nightmare knew he couldn’t just pop in and steal him, he had to be a bit more diplomatic with this one and offer a deal.

He gave Horror some time to think on his proposal - he would set up regular deliveries of food to Horror’s au in exchange for him joining their team - and was quite surprised when Horror agreed, with some stipulations. Horror was equally surprised when Nightmare agreed so easily to his terms (that he didn’t want his brother to know what he’d be doing, and that he wouldn’t kill). A little down the line the terms were altered to add that he would also be left to visit his au every week or so.

Horror was not impressed meeting the other two. He didn’t need his power as judge anymore to sense the lvl coming off them both, and given who they were working for he was instantly distrustful of them both (the uh, brother situation did not help). He was also in a place that had an abundance of food for the first time in probably years, so he was doing a lot of going hog wild in the kitchen and then getting very sick as a result.

Dust didn’t particularly feel anything for him. This guy hated him, sure, but it wasn’t forward and slashy like with Killer, it was just quiet loathing which was fine. That’s how Dust felt about himself so, y’know, mood. He did kind of feel sorry for him though, not just because of the whole famine and everything, but also because he was watching this guy eat like his life depended on it and then get sick and undo it day after day. He was the one who suggested Horror getting his food in moderation to Nightmare, which did help but was an absolute ordeal to enforce. Y’know how some people get hangry? Imagine that but you haven’t had a proper meal in years and now these people give you tiny amounts of food and don’t let you eat more for hours. The hunger mood swings were a sight to behold, you would never have guessed in those days that Horror specified not wanting to kill.

When his ability to eat had evened out and he was in better shape, Horror made a point of apologising to Dust for being aggressive with him. Over time he’d kind of softened up on him from his initial impression, since he could see plainly how wracked with guilt Dust was over his situation. It was a little easier to imagine that whatever he’d done was truly out of desperation and not just for fun, as Horror had assumed at first sight. 

They also both retained that classic sans laziness, so it was easy for them to share a space while saying and doing nothing. It made Horror the first person that Dust willingly spent time around in the castle (and vice versa since Horror was still largely suspicious of Nightmare and Killer - the deal seemed too good to be true and the stage 3 episodes didn’t help). As time went on, Horror kind of became Dust’s emotional support skeleton in a way. Dust had become quite averse to touch in his solitude and Horror very slowly brought him back out with casual gentle touches, until not only did he no longer freeze or stiffen at being grabbed but Dust would seek him out to flop next to on the couch. Horror claimed it was just returning the favour for helping with his eating situation, but really it was nice to have something resembling a friend here.

Killer, for his part, was going through This is My Replacement 2: Electric Boogaloo. Not to the same degree as with Dust, since Horror was quite a bit different, but Killer was still wary of this new addition. He didn’t really instigate anything though since, to be honest, Horror had the intimidation factor. He was like a foot taller than both of them, he had a cracked skull and completely different magic and it seemed like every time Killer saw him he was eating bread like a wolf eats a deer. So while he was going through his food moderating, Killer mostly just stayed quiet and kept his distance.

Horror had not softened on him like he had with Dust, since Killer didn’t openly show remorse. He still watched him with distrust, especially after seeing the way he scrapped with Dust for seemingly no reason other than for violence’s sake. Killer was still mostly targeting Dust in his stage 3s, but Horror had to be careful to stay out of his way since he was still working with much lower hp than the other two. What did start to convince him was seeing how similar Killer and Dust were after a stage 3 episode. Once Killer was slightly more composed (ie stopped crying), he became so tired and quiet and blunt about things he normally joked his way around. It was a little startling, but also started to bring Horror around to the idea that Killer might regret his actions too, just buried under several layers of whatever the hell is also wrong with him at any given time.

Killer and Horror only really started interacting after talking about Dust. Killer was asking how he got Dust to like him since he seems to hate everyone and everything else, Horror told him very pointedly it was because he wasn’t trying to kill Dust. Killer admitted he wasn’t trying to kill Dust, at least not anymore, he just wanted to fight for fun. It opened up a better channel of understanding, knowing that Killer did not actually have murderous intent behind his swings (stage 3 notwithstanding). It made it easier for Horror to occasionally get involved in the roughhousing which Killer delighted in, knowing that the other two knew how to hold back enough to keep him from dusting.

Speaking of stage 3, it was around this time that Killer and Dust made a very important deal. After a particularly rough episode with a little too close of a call, Killer showed up in Dust’s room and begged him shakily to make a promise - that if he ever got too out of control during one of his stages, Dust would kill him. He’d been told over and over by Nightmare that it was impossible for Killer to hurt him since he was immortal, but now there were more people around him where that wasn’t the case, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he came out of a stage and found himself alone. Dust promised.

It’s also worth mentioning that, once they were all close enough to be on speaking terms, Horror started bullying the shit out of these two about eating. Now that Horror knew neither of them were going to kill him, he felt safe enough to pick them up by the scruff and set them at the table to say they weren’t leaving until they had at least a snack. He let them pick what they would eat - he wasn’t that cruel about it - but he had to see them eat at least 3 times a day or they would hear about it.

It was by no means perfect or regular, but after about half a year Nightmare finally had henchmen who ate food and worked together (mostly).

Now here’s the problem… I still haven’t really figured out how or why Cross joined the team. Like, obviously there’s some kind of point in the events of underverse where it splits off into an alternate timeline, but I haven’t really figured out where yet so. Leave that one with me just a little longer. Cross joins.

Nightmare really truly didn’t intend to take anyone else in. They were (mostly) getting along, they were pretty well matched to fight the stars, he had no need of more mortals.

…but he was also pretty soft at this point. Every one of them had taken a blow to his I’m immortal I’m an island I don’t get attached to others persona and he’d gotten pretty damn fond of them all. This was why when he felt the sheer weight of loneliness radiating off of Cross, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave him.

So Cross entered the castle. 

He did not particularly intend to stay or make friends, he was trying to get his world back and nothing more. He even revealed a little down the line that he outright refused to kill, and was quite surprised to find that Nightmare was fine with that. At the start he was polite but not friendly with the others and mostly kept to himself.

Dust, as is often the case, did not really have an opinion. Another new guy, this one was self sufficient and didn’t bother him so he had no reason to get involved. He was content to be in the same room as Cross but didn’t start up any conversations.

Horror felt the need to speak to Cross, since Dust would happily stay silent for years and Killer was, well, Killer. Horror was somehow the closest thing to normal they had, so he was the one that made small talk. Mostly asking what Cross would like for meals and encouraging him to pick something he liked when he got the answer of “anything is fine”. As Cross settled in a bit more and actually opened up, they bonded over being the only two to enjoy food. Horror made a point of adding chocolate to the stock they kept in the kitchen and making tacos here and there for Cross.

Horror was also the first Cross kind of warmed to, mostly because he was the one devoid of lvl and Nightmare had mentioned he’d also said he wouldn’t kill. Learning a little about his au’s situation only softened Cross to him more, especially seeing that he still cared a lot for his brother and was trying to protect his home (even if Cross found it unthinkable that he lived away from it). It was through Horror that he also got accustomed to Dust, how being quiet and distant was kind of his default and that he also felt deeply haunted by the loss of his world. They weren’t exactly friends, but it was comfortable enough.

So now boss had taken in another new person, someone who takes orders like a soldier and fights with knives and ruthless precision and aims to be his righthand man, and Killer was ecstatic. By now he’d mostly put his fears of being disposable behind him, Nightmare had gotten a bit less subtle in showing how important they all were to him and Killer felt confident he wouldn’t be replaced. Which was a little bit funny, because the only guy he didn’t feel threatened by was the one who absolutely competed for his spot.

Cross needed to prove he was useful, he had to feel like he earned his keep and that all the training and suffering he’d done was for a reason. When Nightmare sent them on missions, Cross aimed to be the fastest and the most efficient and to report to Nightmare without question. Horror and Dust looking on would have expected Killer to see this 100% as a threat to his position as (self proclaimed) Nightmare’s second in command, and to go for this guy’s throat when nobody else was around.

But Killer was fascinated. Cross was completely different from any of them, bar Nightmare whose au is a whole different kettle of fish, so he had a certain element of unpredictability to him. Horror and Dust were both based on classic sans just like him, so to a certain degree he knew how they would feel about most things and what they might say, the only differences being in what they had experienced through their own timelines. Cross was based on a swap sans and his au had taken wild twists and turns away from usual events, so Killer had to learn everything about him by poking and prodding for answers or observing from a distance, much like back when it was just him and Nightmare. Cross was something new to be studied and Killer loved taking notes.

Cross did not see this as friendly. He was competing with Killer for approval, not realising Killer was playing their contest like a game. When he saw Cross training he would jump in to spar for fun, but Cross saw his rival trying to get a jump on him and take him out of the running. When Killer would hang around and pester Cross in their off time with questions, it didn’t seem like someone taking interest, it seemed like someone being nosy and looking for weaknesses to exploit. When Horror mentioned that Killer was being surprisingly contained and friendly, Cross really thought he was fucking with him.

The first time Cross was willing to even consider this was the case was when his locket came loose on the field and Killer ran back to find it, since one of the notes he’d taken was how the locket wasn’t something Cross would play about (the same as Horror with food). It didn’t make sense for someone who was seriously competing to have him kicked out to just hand his necklace back, no ransoms or attempts to crush it to upset him, just some vague remark about “owing him one” and then right back to Nightmare for orders.

Cross had to give him something of a chance after that, Horror helped a lot by telling him “he doesn’t want to hurt you, he just doesn’t know how to be normal”. It was mostly a playful jab at Killer, but reframing their interactions changed it significantly for Cross. Now they were sparring playfully and having friendly competition on jobs. He wasn’t as put off when Killer went into stage 3 because he knew he could match him in combat and the others were always on hand to help restrain or distract him. Cross also took note of how Killer calmed down a lot for physical touch, not unlike how Dust had warmed up to Horror. It went a long way into not only making him a little less combative for attention every day, but it seemed to put longer stretches between his episodes (which Cross had also started tracking so they wouldn’t be caught out by them as much).

For his part, Killer has disobeyed instructions in the past to benefit Cross, usually ignoring the task to help him if he’s hurt. He’s also given Nightmare nudges towards praising him because he’s noted that that’s what Cross needs in the same way he needs touch (not that Nightmare doesn’t praise them normally, but when Cross is going through it and needs something). He also doesn’t particularly like chocolate but has made a point of not admitting this to Horror so he can give his chocolate to Cross.

(It’s also worth noting that Cross is the only one, besides Nightmare, that has been to Horror’s au. He offered to help out during the food delivery and got to meet Horror’s Papyrus (who he is a little intimidated by but ultimately friendly with, even though it’s a little weird since he’s a good bit different from his own Papyrus). Dust and Killer can’t really visit for a few reasons, mostly because everyone will notice their lvl immediately and know what they’ve done. Dust especially doesn’t know how he would react to having a Papyrus in front of him again and doesn’t want to put Horror's family at risk to find out. Whenever he visits, his Papyrus asks about Cross now and sometimes tries to make tacos for him (key word tries, he’s still a Papyrus after all). He may have joked that seeing Cross sometimes is “like having another brother but younger and less lazy” and when Horror told him this Cross may or may not have cried.)

And that’s where we are now!

They’re a very strange group who’ve been through some inexplicable events and have all changed each other in one way or another. And whether or not it can be admitted, they are a family c:

Now onto how Nightmare was made emotionally open by each of them!! In this essay I will no just kidding could you imagine this is already like 7 pages long

If you got to the end of this post please drink some water and get yourself a snack

[herrera2k]

The Evil Dead

Kylian Mbappe x reader fluff

You were sat in you and Kylian’s shared bed, the lamp on your bedside table emitting a warm glow. Kylian was almost asleep, drinking from a glass of water on his nightstand, whilst you were reading from a book. Suddenly, a soft knock came from your door, followed by a small voice

“Maman, papa?” Almost instinctively, Kylian shot up despite being half asleep, before beginning to look around, his face expressing a slight fear.

“ChouChou? Is everything okay?” He said, looking towards the door to see his daughter cowering behind it.

“Oh Noémie, what happened?” You beckoned her towards you, nervous of a danger lurking in the house, scanning your daughter for any possible cuts or bruises. “Did you fall out of your bed, did you see something?” The little girl shook her head aggressively, and looked towards her parents.

“I had a bad dream,” she choked. You and Kylian let out a small sigh of relief, grateful your daughter’s safety wasn’t in jeopardy, despite still feeling disheartened by the fact she had a nightmare. You softly pat the bed and scooted away to make some room for her to sit in between you in Kylian.

“What was the dream about Chou?” Kylian said as he watched her crawl into the space between him and his wife.

“Well, you and maman and me, we were in a cabin on a holiday, and in the basement, there was this scary book.” You cocked your eyebrow in confusion as she explained the dream, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had heard this story before. Kylian on the other hand, began to make a face, a nervous simper.

“What else Chou, what happened in the cabin.” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Well it had weird words, and papa tried to read them, and then, when he did, you got really mad and started hurting him.”

“Oh I did?” You said, your eyebrows furrowed even more, you had connected the dots, this was the plot of Evil Dead, the movie you and Kylian had watched on your first date. You turned to face Kylian, but he was looking away at the ceiling. “…You let her watch Evil Dead?” You softly scolded.

“It was the second one, you know, the less scary one.” He tried to explain.

“What difference does it make? They’re both terrifying! No wonder she’s had a nightmare, you let her watch a horror film!” You had thought this would be common sense. Your daughter looked up at her parents bickering. Trying to avoid a small fight in front of his daughter, Kylian looked down at Noémie and began:

“Noémie, you know the monster in that movie wasn’t real, right?”

“But they looked real, the lady got cut in half and bit the chainsaw hand man.” You slowly looked back up at Kylian, with an expression that said something like: How could you be so stupid?

“Well uh it wasn’t. You know what? How about you just stay in here tonight and you, me, and maman will all go to the zoo tomorrow, with the penguins you like.” He said, in an attempt to bargain with his terrified daughter and pissed wife. The little girl instantly perked up and smiled, looking up to her mother for approval, and only received a simply nod, which was enough for her.

“Thank you maman, thank you papa!” She exclaimed, hugging each of you before plopping down, you still staring daggers at your husband.

“Hey, at least she’ll grow up cultured, you can’t tell me it’s a bad movie.” Kylian tried to calm his wife.

“So is Fight Club, and I haven’t shown her that yet,”

“Well…” Kylian trailed off, your eyebrows lowering and eyes widening. “I’m kidding y/n.” He nervously laughed. “Can you forgive me?” He turned to look at you.

“We’ll see Kylian,” you said, turning over to look into his brown eyes, before turning back to your book with a smirk, hiding a laugh behind your lips.

“I love you y/n, good night.” He kissed your cheek before laying down next to his daughter, grasping her in his strong arms.

“Love you too, even though I’m still mad”

Lmk what y’all think

[gravehags]

son of perdition

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: tw descriptions of vomiting, copia being a care giver, confessions and revelations, antichrist copia, curator reader series lore

Words: 1,717

Summary: And Hell followed with him.

a/n: copia is going to fist fight imperator in the street while curator reader fist fights nihil. terzo is filming the whole thing in 4k.

~~~

You don’t even last twenty-four hours with the secret Sister Imperator has burdened you with before it comes crawling back out of your gut at 3 am.

You’re already gagging when you throw the covers back and stumble into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time. It takes four heaves to empty your stomach until it spasms inside you and comes to a stop as you cry and drool and spit pathetically, hunched over the bowl. You don’t even hear Copia get up, let alone hear him come into the bathroom and lean over you to flush the toilet and push your hair back.

“Poverina,” he murmurs, gently easing you backwards to slump against the cool tile wall. You’re still looking at the toilet warily as he grabs a rag from the counter and wets it, bringing it to your mouth. When you finally look at him - the way his brow is furrowed as he kneels in front of you cleaning you up - another loud sob is wrenched from you.

“Amore, what is it? What’s wrong? You were acting so strange all day before we went to bed. I know you, dolcezza, this is no stomach bug,” he says, dropping the rag as tears continue to pour down your face and he gently holds your chin, “What happened?”

None of what I’m about to tell you can leave this office.

You look at the worried face of the man you love.

He would tell you.

“C-Copia,” your voice is hoarse, “we need to talk.”

Copia looks at your tearful face and to the toilet and his eyes get wide.

“Amore, you’re not…”

“No!” you blurt out, “But…that’s part of it. Eugh…let me brush my teeth and we’ll get back in bed. I’ll explain everything, I promise. I promise, my love.”

He nods and reaches his hands out to haul you off the bathroom floor and gives you one last curious glance before shuffling back into the bedroom. Once you’ve completed your task and give yourself a long, hard look in the mirror you shut the light off and walk back to bed. Copia is sitting up with the covers pooled around his waist and your eyes flick to the tattoo on his pectoral as lead settles in your empty stomach. When you crawl in beside him he gently takes your hands in his and you take a deep breath.

“I…I don’t even know where to start.”

“Tell me everything from the moment you left my office yesterday, amore mio.”

“Right. Right. I uh. I got an email yesterday morning from Sister Imperator saying she wanted me to come to her office to talk. I thought I was, y’know, getting fired or something. It wasn’t that though. She told me…ugh,” you squeeze your eyes shut and reopen them with another deep breath, “She told me that I was…chosen. By Satan.”

“For…for what?”

“To…ugh this is so fucked up…to carry your child. She said that's why she hired me.”

The look of abject horror and fury on Copia’s face would make you physically recoil if he weren’t gripping your hands so tightly.

“She said what?” he breathes, and you swear his white eye flashes in the dim light of the bedroom. “Why the fuck…how could she say…unless...”

A self-deprecating little smirk slowly twists his lips and he exhales angrily through his nose.

“Copia she said–”

“--that I’m the Antichrist, sì?”

You’re floored. Sister Imperator had acted like this was an enormous secret that Copia was not aware of.

“Y-yeah. Yeah that’s what she said, Copia how–”

He gives you a sad smile.

“I told you I was always treated differently as a child, huh? People either treated me with kid gloves or complete derision. I’m not an idiot, I figured it out young. These, eh,” he raises his hands and displays the distinct scars on them, “were kind of a giveaway. It should be a great honor to know that the Unholy Father is…your father but all it ever did was give me grief. Eh, I suppose it beats Nihil refusing to accept that I’m his kid. Sathanas has at least been there for me - perhaps not physically but spiritually.”

“I was going to ask,” you start quietly, “I mean…you call the papas your brothers and for the longest time I just thought that was because you’ve known each other for so long but…the eyes…”

“You don’t know how the other kids at the abbey would torment me - knowing I was an Emeritus son but never being acknowledged by Nihil. Being hated by Nihil. Nothing’s fucking changed, I guess,” Copia mutters, “Nihil must have roped my mother into some ritual where he was possessed. Sathanas, what I wouldn’t give to have known her. It’s been a long, lonely life, amore. I just wanted someone to love me. Five decades on this earth of nothing but dalliances and heartache and then came…you.”

Copia looks at you with such tenderness you nearly start crying again. The truth about his mother is ready to leap from your tongue when he speaks again.

“You never saw me as, as a tool, or an inconvenience, or, or anything special–”

You’re horrorstruck.

“My love, you are more special to me than I can possibly put into words–”

“Yes, but as you said - special to you. Important to you. Not important to the faith, or important to some agenda being kept from me by the Ministry elders, eh? That was part of the gift of you being from the outside. I had a clean slate.”

“Even though apparently I was destined to be with you all along,” you say, brow furrowing, “Makes you wonder if…”

“Don’t think that,” Copia says quickly, quietly, and deadly serious as he grips your hands once more, “Amore, the most important tenet of my religion is that of free will. Nobody made you accept this job or made us fall in love. Per favore, don’t ever question that. The powers of the Olde One are great but he cannot manufacture emotion where there is none. I swear to you, amata mia.”

You nod, tears once again filling your eyes. Copia raises your hands to his mouth and kisses them.

“Anima mia,” he says, voice cracking, “Tell me…be honest. Does this news change how you feel about me?”

“Never,” you breathe, without a second thought, “Copia, nothing could change how I feel. I…I’ll be the first to admit I don’t fully understand it - not yet - but my love, you could bring about the end of days and I’ll walk into hell with you, hand in hand. I’d do anything for you, but…”

“What, what is it?” his shoulders tense and his grip on your hands tightens.

“Copia I don’t want a baby. Ever.”

His posture sags, clearly showing his relief.

“And amore I do not want anything that you do not want. Fuck the horrific reason Imperator said you were hired. And if putting your foot down was not enough for her then let her try to tell us both how she’s going to force a pregnancy on you, huh? How dare she. How dare she. Free will. Control over our own bodies. How could she twist His message like this? Not on my fucking watch.”

You give him a small smile, relief flooding your veins before you pause. You’ve revealed almost all to him but one thing still lingers. Part of you tells you to hold off, to wait until a time when you’re both less exhausted. Before you can second-guess yourself though, you speak.

“Copia, there’s something else. About Sister Imperator.”

“What’s that then?”

You hesitate, wondering if it’s wise to divulge all the secrets she shared with you. You know it’s a matter of when, not if, she will make you pay. When you look into his anxious gaze, your heart clenches. He deserves the truth. Damn the consequences.

“She’s…your mother, my love. I’m so sorry.”

He goes quiet, looking down to where your fingers are entwined with his. It takes a minute before he speaks again.

“I think part of me always knew,” he murmurs, “She’s always been there, every step of the way. I just don’t understand why it had to be kept from me. Why she couldn’t…why she couldn’t love me outright. Like a mother should, huh?”

“I don’t know,” you say, “It’s…it’s clear she cares about you deeply but I can’t speak to her motivations. She’s a complex woman.”

He snorts softly, a small smile on his face.

“That’s putting it lightly. Well that’s a conversation for another time, my brain can’t process anymore bullshit right now. Eh, what a night. Didn’t think when I was listening to you puke that this is where things would end up.”

Your stomach does another somersault.

“Ugh don’t remind me. But Copia,” you reach up to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, “Thank you. And I love you. For everything you are and everything you’ve done. Eternally.”

There’s no mistaking the glisten of tears in his eyes this time as he leans in to softly kiss you. When he gently pulls away he rests his forehead against yours.

“We’re taking tomorrow off,” Copia murmurs, “And we’re getting out of the abbey. I’ll text Imperator in the morning to tell her, and if she has a problem I’ll just say that if she doesn’t fuck off I won’t, em—’deceive people with signs and wonders, or sit in the temple of God and claim to be God himself’, eh?”

The laugh that comes out of you is hoarse and tired but genuine.

“Blackmail feels very Antichrist-y of you, my love.”

“See, I’m already great at this. Fear the trembler of nations,” Copia growls, dragging you down onto the bed on top of him. Laughing, you prop your chin up on his sternum.

“Kingdoms to fall one by one?”

He nods, smoothing your hair back.

“Exactly, amore. But first eh, let’s get some sleep.”

“Anything you say, Your Eminence.”

“Oh no, dolcezza mia. Not mine. All yours.”

You yawn and curl into his side.

“Goodnight, my love.”

Copia leans over and turns off the lamp, sighing heavily.

“Buonanotte, amore.”

You dream of hellfire.

You sleep more soundly than you have in a long, long time.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Domesticated

Daryl Dixon x reader

Request. Cuddling in bed, like mundane little moments in their relationship

🏠 🌳 🐺

You laid in bed, cuddling your big, fluffy beast of a man. Propped up on your elbows that rested on his chest so you could press sweet kisses to his snout while the rough pads of his paws ran over the soft fat of your thighs and butt. You had just gotten out of the shower while Daryl had offered to warm the bed for when you got back.

Even with the winter being as cold as it was, you were,you were perfectly comfortable being in the nude underneath only the large deer pelt Daryl had gifted you as his courting gift that you had ever so excitingly accepted when the days started getting shorter, and with accepting the pelt you also accepted his offer of marriage.

Which was something you hadn't entirely realised as it happened.

You had been invited to come over for dinner and you had stayed with him in his basement room overnight and only kisses and cuddles were shared after he gave you the pelt.

When you came back upstairs the next morning Carol had embraced and congratulated you, asking if the newlyweds would like some breakfast.

Your little sign of shock had Daryl almost regret not being more forward about it until Carol enthousiastically spoke up about it and Daryl only sensed happiness and love coming from you.

"So, the pelt is like my wedding ring?" You three shared breakfast and talked. Carol snooped about your first night together and got disappointingly boring answers, and Daryl explained how werewolf relationships worked and tried to adapt them to you being a human together.

So here you sat at your back porch. A large sheet covering the white painted floofing as you held the squirel carcass with your bare hands and cut away at the skin with a grimace on your face.

Next to you your loving husband laid on the floor, rolled over on his back and laughing.

Well, as far as laughing went in his shifted form.

The first time he had you do this was a nightmare.

Daryl came home with a couple of hunted squirels, throwing them at you and letting you know he caught dinner and you were preparing it.

Sitting on the porch you watched in horror as Daryl showed you how to skin the little creature and prepare it for cooking.

When he handed you one you took it reluctantly, being way out of your comfort zone while Daryl laughed.

"Yer the one who mentioned havin' kids. I'm the one teachin' ya how to be a good werewolf momma before I even think of puttin' a pup in ya."

You complained all the way through the job, and Daryl helped you a lot those first few times.

Now as you were at the squirel business again he had shifted so he couldn't help you. Not physically but also not even verbally as he couldn't talk. You almost didn't want to feed him the squirel after you finished it.

Not that you'd need to take it apart for him, he'd swallow it whole.

"It's for the babies." You kept telling yourself as you almost cried when you stuffed your hands into its chest cavity to pull the innards out. "Gods, I can't believe you shove your entire head between a deer's ribs to eat. So gross.."

While it wasn't technically a complaint, Daryl still decided to fake offense and dramatically turn away from you, plopping down with his tail almost in your squirrel and loudly grumbling like you hurt his feelings.

"Just know that if you ever feed them whole squirels you're the one bathing them." You swat his tail away from the dead animal and slump back as you continue to reluctantly carve it up.

At least you had dinner prep almost done now.

Together with the potatoes coming in from Hilltop and the locally grown greens you managed to put together a decent meal for the two of you.

Like you agreed on you ate dinner together at the table, even if you had been spending all day at home. Dinner was one constant at home to both be normal people for a moment.

As you ate you felt eyes on you, knowing full well what that look was but you ignored it to the best of your ability and continues to eat.

Untill Daryl decided ro mumble a question with his mouth full. One you didn't quite make out and had you look up.

Right into his big, sad puppy eyes that looked down at the meat on your plate and back at you, pleading to trade.

There was a lot people didn't know about Daryl. One of those being his hidden talent for giving puppydog eyes that rivaled even little Jude and RJ's.

One quick glance was all it took for you to give in and trade some of his potatoes for your portion of meat.

A sigh leaves your smiling lips as he happily chows down on his dinner.

After Daryl washed the dishes that you dried and put away after, you decided to go for a shower.

He loved it when you washed his hair, scratching the collected dirt off his scalp and massaging fhe soap through his hair. If you didn't need to preserve water he could stay in there like this with you for the whole night.

When you were done he'd always return fhe favor. Washing your hair with the same care as you did for him.

One thing you did without fail was make sure to be out of the shower before Daryl had the water shut off.

As you stood on the ratty old bathmat you watched Daryl's figure as he shook the water off him like a wet dog, his long hair slinging waterdrops everywhere.

Your little after shower ritual was nowhere near as thorough as it was in the old world, but whemever Daryl brought back sealed bottles of lotion you'd make sure to treat your skin nicely while your hair sat wrapped in a towel and Daryl watched you while he air-dried on the edge of the tub.

You loved to watch him through the mirror, staring lovingly at your butt while you lathered yourself in lotion, and caked moisturizer on your face. After massaging it all in you went to towel dry your hair as you let the rest of you continue to air-dry.

Once you had your hair dried and brushed you moved over to brush Daryl's as well. Carefully plucking at the tangles and being relieved when you didn't find any knots you couldn't save and had to cut out.

Living alone in the house was a blessing, being able to walk around the upper floor in nothing but a towel without having to worry anyone would see you as Daryl snatched the towel off you to hang over the edge of the tub before joining you in bed.

It might have been early, but as long as he got to cuddle you he'd be in bed any hour of the day.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: So much fluffy goodness! Do you enjoy the fluff? Or would you enjoy more smut?

[jennay]

My Best Friend (4)

Noah Sebastian x reader

Master List

Summary: Noah and Jolly learn secrets about reader.

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1/2/3

Falling in your dreams from a high place had to be one of the worst feelings. But waking up to realize you had actually fallen off the back seat of the van you were sleeping on was even worse. Your face collided with the back of the passenger seat, sending a sharp pain through your nose. This was definitely not how you wanted to wake up.

“What the…?” you groaned, still feeling the jolt from Noah slamming on the brakes. Your nose throbbed, and you could already feel a bruise forming. You rubbed your face, trying to shake off the disorientation and the lingering remnants of your dream.

Noah pulled off to the side of the road, stopping and throwing the van into park. He turned around to face you, his short brown hair falling into his eyes, panic written all over his face. Jolly looked equally horrified.

You slowly scooped yourself off the ground, sitting back in the seat and gently rubbing your face. “What happened?!”

“That guy came out of nowhere,” Noah said, looking forward at the road, shakily putting his large tattooed hand back on the steering wheel. “Are you guys okay?”

You nodded, throwing your seat belt over your shoulder. “I think I prefer Jolly to drive,” you said with a soft yawn. “Where are we, what time is it?”

“Salem, Oregon…” Jolly said with a mischievous smile.

Your eyes widened in horror. “Why are we in SALEM, JOLLY, that’s not the route we agreed on?!”

Noah chuckled and pulled back onto the highway. “To see your family. Why else would we go there?” He paused, glancing at you in the rearview mirror, slightly surprised. “I thought you’d be happy? I know you’ve been missing them and it’s not like we really had a set plan.”

You shake your head, “I thought we were going to Washington??”

“I said one stop was in Washington besides I haven’t seen them in forever and I think seeing your sister would do you good, I already texted her and she’s excited to see us and meet Noah.” Jolly reminds you. “Why are you acting like this?”

“You text her!?” You almost scream. “Why?”

“Um…” He says sarcastically drawing out the m… “If it wasn’t for your sister we would’ve never met and you wouldn’t have your best friend Noah, which also offends me that Noah became your best friend!”

You lightly shake your head. “You do know she’s married?” You remind him. “Like a ring and kids married.” You feel your heart thud in your chest. Between laying down napping and watching movies you weren’t paying attention to the routes. The last thing you remembered seeing was Medford, Oregon.

Jolly shrugs his shoulders, “That’s fine it’s never been like that with her and me. We were always friends.” He turns to face you, “Now, explain why you’re being weird.”

You sighed, feeling a mix of emotions but mostly panic. “They only kind of know about Michael.”

Jolly laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“They knew I was dating someone… they just didn’t know it was him at least not the whole time. They met him on FaceTime a couple times, my mom hated him… told me he reminded her of my dad. And my sister nearly died when she saw how much I was going out and drinking… Everyone panicked, so I told them we broke up a while back. I don't even want to get started with what my brothers said.” You lean your head against the window attempting to breathe without distress. “So I made up a story and told them I was dating Noah and that we moved in together… I just wanted them to stop worrying,” you sheepishly admitted.

Noah nearly choked on his coffee. “Wait, what?!”

You shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, we live together now…”

“We don’t live together like that…” He shook his head. “We’ve never dated, now I’m your boyfriend?” He laughed, keeping his eyes on the road. “I guess I should feel honored.” He smiled again, “How long have you been lying to them and how the hell did you pull it off?”

You shrugged your shoulders, returning his gaze. “We take pictures together all the time, and I mean, it’s not like I wasn’t over at the house a lot even when Michael and I were together.” You rubbed your temples, regretting you said anything.

“Okay, but I’m gonna need some details… I don’t even know how long we’ve been dating.” He looked over at Jolly, “Can you believe her?”

You took a deep breath, “To them, I left Michael after three months, then I took a break… and I think we’ve been dating for, I don’t know, like six months?”

“Six months?!” Noah laughed, “That’s intimacy level.”

Jolly burst out laughing. “This trip just got a whole lot more interesting. Can’t wait to see how this plays out.”

“You guys fucking suck. Wake me up when we get there…and don’t kill us.” You say curling up in your seat.

Noah rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll do my best, babe.” he says winking in the rearview. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

__

You stood in front of your sister’s front door, feeling Noah and Jolly crowding your space. Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on the doorknob and slowly twisted it open. “Stephanie?” you called, waiting for a response. “We’re here!” you announced as you stepped inside.

Within seconds, your sister came bolting around the corner, heading directly toward you. She squeezed you tight, holding you close and rocking you back and forth. “I’m so happy you're here!” she squealed, pulling back to look at you.

You laughed a little, spotting her husband Kyle coming to join you in the kitchen. He walked straight to Noah, extending his hand. “You must be Noah,” he said, shaking his hand firmly. “I’ve heard good things about you.”

Noah nodded, remembering the previous conversation. He tried his best not to laugh, thinking about how you had explained that he was now your pretend boyfriend. “I’m sure she exaggerated a bit,” he said, grinning.

He put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. You stumbled a bit, moving closer to his side, and softly wrapped your arm around his waist. You felt him kiss the top of your head, and you smiled as you met your sister's gaze. Her eyes sparkled as she watched you and Noah, clearly happy and believing it all.

“Well, I feel out of place,” Jolly teased. “Everyone’s coupled up, and here I am.”

Stephanie giggled, pushing her straight long brown hair behind her shoulders. “You’ve always been the odd one out,” she joked.

Jolly shrugged. “Should we sit?”

As the crowd started moving to the living room, you realized your head was still resting on Noah’s chest, and you were still cradled in his arms. A small flip in your stomach happened, and you gently pulled away. Noah’s eyes caught yours, and you weakly smiled up at him, signaling you were okay.

“Go ahead,” you said, gesturing behind everyone. “I’ll catch up in a second. I just need to use the bathroom.”

You took a moment to steady yourself, feeling the warmth of Noah's embrace lingering. As you made your way to the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of the family photos lining the hallway. Each picture told a story, from Stephanie’s life, and childhood memories to recent celebrations. The nostalgia tugged at your heart, a bittersweet reminder of simpler times.

After freshening up, you returned to the living room where everyone was settling in. Noah was already engaged in a lively conversation with Kyle, and Jolly was making Stephanie laugh with one of his jokes. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that despite everything, you were not alone.

You joined them, taking a seat next to Noah. He glanced at you, his eyes filled with understanding and reassurance. You leaned into him slightly, feeling the comfort of his presence.

Your attention flung to your sister when she said, “How long has it been?” You didn’t notice how much you were zoning out until then.

“How long what?” you questioned, blinking away the haze of your thoughts.

“How long has it been since you’ve been home?” She paused, still smiling as she spoke. “I was so mad when you moved with Jolly. I could’ve killed you both.” She laughed, but there was an edge to her voice.

“I was just here like three years ago. You drama queen,” you said, smiling.

She took a sip of her wine, looking directly at Noah. You could tell she was mustering up her courage to say something. “Did you ever meet her ex?” she asked, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Jolly and Noah both nodded their heads, not wanting to say anything to piss you off, knowing it was still a touchy subject.

“God, wasn’t he the worst?” Stephanie continued, her tone casual but her words cutting deep.

You felt your stomach twist and turn. This was not what you wanted to do right now. “We don’t need to talk about him,” you reminded her, your voice strained.

Kyle rubbed his hand down Stephanie’s back. “Maybe a conversation for you and your sister in private,” he whispered, trying to diffuse the tension.

“I kinda wanna talk about it now,” she said, her eyes darting to Jolly. “Because how did you of all people not see the signs of abuse?” She set her wine down on the table beside her. “And from what I heard, you two were pretty close before dating.” she points to Noah.

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of her words. “Stephanie, not now.”

“Abuse?” Noah said, pulling his weight away from you. His curious brown eyes were full of sadness, watching you intently. How did he not see it? His arm was still draped around your waist as he waited for your answer.

“He didn’t abuse me,” you assured the two men, your voice trembling slightly.

“Maybe not physically, but there for a minute, I didn’t even know who you were. That man was manipulating the hell out of you and made you feel so bad all the time. I’m so glad you didn’t end up marrying him like you said you would.” She shook her head, her features turning angry. “You’d probably be dead within a year.”

Your mouth dropped. “That’s a messed up thing to say.”

“You swallowed a bunch of pills in April because you couldn’t handle all the shit, so don’t tell me you wouldn’t be dead nine months later,” she shot back, her voice rising with each word.

Noah’s grip tightened around you, his confusion and concern palpable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I could have helped.”

Jolly’s face was a mask of disbelief, his usual jovial expression replaced with a look of horror. 

“He didn’t even go with her to the hospital,” Stephanie said, shaking her head in disapproval.

You stood up quickly, shaking your head as you stared at her in disbelief. “That was an awful thing to tell them. If I wanted them to know, I would’ve told them myself.” You took in a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, before grabbing your bag and heading to the spare room.

You heard footsteps following close behind you, and before you could shut the door, it bounced back from Noah sticking his foot in the way. You turned around, guilty eyes watching Noah as he closed the door and walked towards you. He stared at the ground, trying to find the words to say to you but unsure of how to start the conversation.

You sat next to him but avoided making eye contact. “It didn’t feel important,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, his face turning to anger but still keeping his composure. “Not important? You almost died, and you think that’s not important?” His voice was low but filled with a mix of hurt and frustration. “I can’t believe you went through that alone.”

You felt a lump form in your throat as you tried to hold back tears. “I didn’t want to burden anyone,” you said, your voice trembling. “I thought I could handle it on my own.”

Noah’s expression softened slightly, but the pain in his eyes remained. “You don’t have to handle everything by yourself. We’re here for you, always.” He reached out, gently taking your hand in his.

You nodded, agreeing with him. You didn’t want to argue; you were growing tired. “I think I need sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning if you want.”

He nodded in agreement and stood up, grabbing a pillow and a throw blanket from the floor. You watched him curiously, the soft rustling of fabric filling the quiet room. “What are you doing?”

“Making my bed,” he replied with a small smile, his voice gentle.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking the tension. “The bed is big enough for both of us.”

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled warmly. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you. “It’s gonna look weird if you’re on the floor in the morning.” You faintly smile.

 He nods in agreement sitting up. He plays along with your game. You both settled into the bed, you felt the cool sheets against your skin, contrasting with the warmth of his body next to you. The faint scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh linen, creating a soothing atmosphere.

His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close and at first you think it’s weird but when he whispers, “I can’t believe I almost lost you and didn’t know.” You realize this is a friend trying to hold close what almost disappeared from him. 

The steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle rise and fall of his chest began to lull you into a peaceful sleep. You could hear the soft hum of the night outside, the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. The light barely peeked through the window casting a soft glow on Noah’s face.

“Goodnight,” he whispered softly.

The warmth of his embrace and the feeling of his heartbeat against your back made you feel safe and cared for. For the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace as you drifted off to sleep.

“Goodnight, Noah.”