#i will fill the baby transformers tag myself if I have to

[birdclowns]

semicompleted saturday

ty for the tags @heartstringsduet & @inflarescent <333333

this was the first fic I started to write, and I don't think I've posted anything about it? I moved onto other projects and it's been at the bottom of my google docs forever. it's rough. it's only been looked over as I wrote it. but the premise of it is neat.

tk gets into a fight on a call. gets angry at carlos. goes out with the girls. gets into a different fight. tk things. <3

“I understand the situation was fucked, TK, but, baby, you can’t just punch people.” He absent mindedly holds TK’s injured arm, inspecting it as if he could do a better job than Tommy Vega herself. He looks into his eyes, all big, brown and soulful, “No matter how much they try to egg you on.”

He lifts his brows up as TK goes to argue, fixing him with a look. TK shuts his mouth.

“Your badge is to help injured people, not injure them." He frowns as TK rolls his eyes, pulling his arm out of his grip.

“I don’t think you understand how it was very much a fight or be fought situation, Carlos-”

“I was literally seconds away-”

“I didn’t know that.”

Their attention snaps towards the bay doors at the sound of the ambulance returning, watching it as it backs in. The shrill sounds of the back-up beeper halts their conversation, both unwilling to get into a volume battle with the ambulance - though TK would probably win if he really wanted to.

The paramedic duo hop out of it, Nancy waving wildly at them in greeting. With a wave back, the two idly watch as the women get back to work.

Once the sounds of Nancy and Tommy going through inventory and chatting fill the air, TK turns to face Carlos again, a smug grin replacing his previous frown.

He taps his temple with the uninjured arm. “At least there’s no concussion this time,” he says, eyes crinkling at the edges, unnecessarily proud of himself for not getting a concussion. “No harm no foul, babe, I’m perfectly fine.” His expression would be cute if he wasn't avoiding the point of the conversation.

“At least there’s no- TK do you hear yourself?” Carlos’ mouth is left ajar, looking at the paramedic as if he’d just grown another head. Maybe if he had another he’d have a couple more brain cells to stop himself from getting into fights.

“TK, the fact you don’t have a concussion and - by the way, you’re not fine, look at your arm and back - isn’t the point,” his voice is low, aware of the others in the station now, though the tone is still chiding.

TK’s nonchalance is hurtling him towards the edge of wanting to simultaneously wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him locked away in their loft forever so he can keep him safe and wanting to shake him furiously.

“The point,” he grits out, keeping his eyes locked onto TK’s, “is that you can’t keep putting yourself into dangerous situations because you can’t control yourself enough to deescalate without it ending in violence.”

Carlos watches the transformation on his husband’s face, stomach drooping. He watches the carefree smile disappear, teeth clenching behind tight set lips. The tension in his body is palpable, hands shoved roughly into the pockets of his uniform pants, posture straight and guarded.

Standing up straighter, Carlos gears up for the argument he knows will happen with this TK. The TK that closes off when a very specific button is pressed. The one that, years ago, would’ve simply fled, leaving a confused and upset Carlos in his dust, instead of talking out.

He watches in confusion as that is exactly what happens.

“TK-” Carlos calls, reaching a hand out, “what are you doing?”

TK stops from his ascent towards the ambulance, turning just enough to look at Carlos over his shoulder with a sneer.

“I’m controlling myself.”

thisll get finished. eventually. maybe. probably. I have him being injured in a different fic instead lmao

idk who's done it so uhhhhhhh

tagging; @mooshkat @thebumblecee @reyesstrand @lemonlyman-dotcom @sanjuwrites @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @bonheur-cafe and you 🫵

[omarandjohnny]

GETTING TO KNOW MEME!

Tagged this time by @callipigio <333333333333333333333333333

do you make your bed?

My bed doubles as my couch, so no. Most that happens is the blanket becomes a prop for my pillows during the daytime.

what's your favourite number?

"69, DUDES!" (had to)

what is your job?

caregiver

if you could go back to school, would you?

Absolutely not. Loathed every aspect of school, even more so because I had 'behind the curtain' access to everything (mom was a teacher, and I ended up being her PA towards the end of her career)

can you parallel park?

I cannot drive so nope! (same)

a job you had that would surprise people?

I was a part-time nanny through highschool, then a data collector for a day trader, and then a licensed insurance rep, then a PA for mom, which transformed into caregiver as she got older. Out of all of those, I'm not sure which would surprise people more. I was at least a corporate goth during my insurance years, let that mental image sit with ya for a minute. (I wasn't as cool as Richmond, unfortunately)

do you think aliens are real?

Somewhere there's probably something <-

can you drive a manual car?

Can't drive, full stop.

what's your guilty pleasure?

Can't say I've ever felt guilty about anything that's given me pleasure, never understood that concept.

tattoos?

Filthy with 'em! From the tummy up anyway- haven't started on my legs yet, unless you count my very first tattoo (a stick and poke inverted triangle I gave myself freshman year of hs)

favorite color?

Suspiria red and slime green! Tho, I have been favoring purple quite a bit these days.

favorite type of music?

I grew up in a house that was constantly filled with music, 50-60s pop, to 60s-70s motown, to 70s glam, to anything 80s that was currently on the radio. I jump all over the place, but my constants usually drift towards that stuff, as well as all the goth and numetal I picked up as a baby bat.

do you like puzzles?

I get frustrated too quickly, hence why I never got into gaming of any sort.

any phobias?

Not a phobia per se, but I still have some issues with boiling liquids (old burn trauma). I do all the cooking so I kinda have to push that stuff to the back of my mind, but yeah.

favorite childhood sport?

I loved basketball the most (tallest kid in class, heh) I liked volleyball as well, and was on a soccer team for a bit, but basketball came naturally to me.

do you talk to yourself?

Not much anymore. Long Covid brain fog has made a lot of things much quieter in my mind, a weird and rare upside XD

what movies do you adore?

Derek Jarman, Gregg Araki and John Waters were my honorary film uncles in late teens-early twenties. My life revolved around Wolfe Video and TLA Video back during the catalog ordering days, so I have MANY favorites there. Stephen King and Clive Barker were my horror uncles, and then you've got my childhood faves- Lost Boys, Monster Squad, Beetlejuice, etc. There's also this film called My Beautiful Laundrette that I mildly enjoy as well ;)

coffee or tea?

I do enjoy just regular ol' black coffee when the mood strikes (or my asthma's kicking up)

first thing you wanted to be growing up?

Wanted to work in the funeral arts, quelle surprise. Would've done it too, had I the patience for maths and sciences (I very much do not)

[monstersinthecosmos]

Anne Rice's books are filled with morally dubious concepts and toxic relationships, I thought everyone that is fan would be so because of that. But scrolling through the tag I find people claiming to be fans but only of the wholesome parts, which are almost nothing?? Anne Rice is not wholesome in the slightest. I don't know, it feels lonely. And also I see the TV show isn't willing to engage with the horror and complexity of these books neither, which, makes me see the vampire chronicles isn't really meant to be brought to this medium. I don't know why I am dumping this on you but I feel like you would understand somehow. Please ignore if not, I don't want to offend you.

Lmao I’m not offended, hello! I am, however, about to talk way too much bc I haven't changed in the years since I've haunted tunglr dot com so I apologize for that

TLDR: Be a freak, don't let anyone make you feel bad, I hope the show isn't too wholesome.

I’ve been in and out of this fandom for like, literally twenty years 👵🏻 so being completely honest I have always seen a wide range of fans on the spectrum of HAPPILY ENJOYING IN BLISS to ONLY INTERESTED IN CRITICISM and like that’s such a personal, subjective choice of whatever everyone finds fun in their free time. I’ve also, in twenty years, been on both ends of the spectrum, and I even fully swore AR off for a few years at one point bc I was so mad at her lol, but IM BACK BAYBEE and to me idk it’s not fun to take things so seriously all the time. That’s just me though!

I do think there’s been a huge shift in fandom culture (particularly on Tumblr) in the last 10 years or so that prioritizes moral critiques of canon; it’s not just VC, I see this in a lot of fandoms, and I think it’s been more amplified since the Adult Content Ban bc, surprise!, a lot of adults left the site lol. I think we’re living in a culture right now that’s very focused on respectability politics and there’s obviously a huge push in the mainstream to censor and control transgressive media (especially queer fiction), and it doesn’t surprise me that this has influenced younger fans because it’s a culture we are steeped in at all times, even when they try to identify as progressive. But don’t think that the broader wave of censorship right now isn’t connected to the way conservatives are beginning to skew the conversations in fandom spaces, too. Fandom is a microcosm of what’s happening outside! And there are all types of ideas and stigmas that we get inundated with in the world, without our consent, because it’s the space we all occupy. 

Having said all that LOL. All these types of fans exist and sometimes you have to just read the room and find your people. Some people’s enjoyment of the books is conditional, ie: cherrypicking what we liked about them and celebrating just those parts. Especially because I think so many of us read the books young and didn’t think too hard about it; we can agree that Anne’s writing was seductive and we were all probably baby queer weirdos who felt seen or w/e. And I think it’s normal that a lot of us have grown up and looked back at some of the stuff in the books like “oh yikes lol”

But everyone has different ways to navigate those feelings. I personally don’t have a problem compartmentalizing and just enjoying myself. I don’t take fiction morals very seriously and I enjoy the thought exercise of putting myself in imaginary dark places. Not everyone can flip that on and off and separate fiction from reality so easily, so ur milage may vary. I’m also someone who supports the idea of using fiction as a staging area for sexuality, and using fiction imo is a great way to play. Not everybody feels that way and for some people, the fun of playing in fandom is to play with the canon in a transformative way to see how to “fix” it or to rearrange it in a way that is less nauseating. I think there’s a culture in spaces like Tumblr to feel you need to repent for your fiction sins, and not everyone can sit with the guilt of accidentally enjoying amorality in fiction. And like I’m sure there are fans who read IWTV at 13 and Loustat is just so deeply embedded in them that they simply cannot exit the train at this point, and they're doing what they can with the scraps to ease that discomfort.

And I mean, good for them, if it helps them enjoy their time on this fucking germy ass planet!!!!!! That’s very fun, happy 4 u guys lol. 

There is also 1000000% Nothing Wrong with blissfully enjoying all the evil and trash. It is perfectly safe and extremely normal. You just need to find your people, and sometimes it is hard and it does feel lonely. I'm with you, though. I'm here to enjoy the evil bullshit and revel in it LOL. There's literally nothing in the series that is wholesome except for Mojo.

To be honest, I’m not into Loustat at all. And not in a morally superior way—they don’t really do it for me but also Lestat reminds me waaaaaaaay too much of my abuser and Louis reminds me way too much of myself when I was stuck in that relationship. It isn’t fun for me to engage with Loustat content because I tend to only see the manipulation and gaslighting when I look at it, and for me personally it’s juuuuuuust a bit too close to the reality I lived through.  I would argue that my OTP Armand/Daniel is the most toxic ship in VC but I was never kidnapped by a vampire or stalked across the globe while being literally addicted to his body fluid so yknow, that don’t bother me. =P But it’s 100% normal to look at canon toxic ships and play in the sandbox to either “fix” them or to like, take control of the narrative and allow yourself some catharsis by digging into it in a safe imaginary space. When I have the chance I like to mAkE thEM WORSE

So it’s been occurring to me when I see the enthusiasm of these fans for the show that perhaps they don’t particularly like canon to begin with? So changing it this drastically isn’t an issue to them? I’m sure everyone has their own reasons and I don’t want to generalize. On the issue of Claudia, for example: I think she is an intrinsic part of the plot and drives very profound feminist messages in the book, and I think her being a small child is absolutely essential to that story. I recognize that there are morally reprehensible moments in text regarding her and to me I’m like GOOD, IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE GROSS. It’s supposed to be gross!!!! It’s a horror novel!!!!!! And Anne Rice was a writer who wanted to always talk about the full spectrum of human emotion, including sexual emotion, so having sexual themes intertwined with the horror was completely on purpose! 

Then you see some people who ONLY see that it’s gross and can’t connect with the full scope of her story because it’s too uncomfortable. And like, you do you bestie! Curate that experience for yourself! Have boundaries and love yourself enough to stay safe!!! But I do think it’s wild the amount of complaints I’ve seen about Claudia, for example, which strike me as particularly ironic because it’s almost meta in the way they’ve embodied the entire reason her character is tragic. People infantilizing Claudia as a character, unable to engage with the topic of her at all, is exactly the reason she’s a tragedy in canon, because she can be as old as she wants and people will always see her as a child. D:

As far as the TV show goes lol. 

Being fair, I don’t think we know enough yet to know how evil & problematic they’re going to be. LMAO. I hope it’s like unhinged gaslighting abusive romance bc like, WHAT ARE YOU WASTING OUR TIME FOR IF NOT? But I always have found it funny when you see people who seem to otherwise hate everything problematic in VC somehow cape for Loustat as if it’s any different from the other ships. 😂  

My concerns at this moment are that the way they changed Claudia is a huge red flag to me about whether or not they will engage in the problematic elements, and I’m not thrilled that RJ says the rest of the books give you a better picture of Lestat than just IWTV, because I disagree. Like, hearing from his own voice definitely allows us to know his sense of humor and we can see he’s a bi disaster, but he’s already CHARMING in IWTV. Louis falls for his shit because he’s charming. So I don’t think we need to know that he considers himself faultless for him to have a fuller portrayal on the show. 

Like, I hope the show portrays them as being an abusive ship and shows all the nuance that it deserves, but RJ’s comments reminded me of the binary we see over and over in VC fandom about trying to get to the bottom about WHICH ONE OF THEM WAS LYING. (And it was Lestat, imo LOL he’s told on himself many many times.) So claiming IWTV is an incomplete portrayal of him makes me wonder if RJ comprehended that Lestat is a charming manipulator who abuses everyone in his life LOL. And ESPECIALLY with the time shift + age difference I think this puts them in a very different context. A Lestat who is turned in his 30s with a fully baked prefrontal cortex is going to have a very different temperament from canon Lestat, and even moreso when we understand he’s not a traumatized, freshly-bereaved fledgling anymore but like OVER A CENTURY OLD LMAO so like, he’s had time to calm down and gain some wisdom and that would have to make such a huge difference on the level of coercion. (That’s another red flag for me too is that RJ goes “no no we just changed a couple little things !” and the things he changed are like HUGE??????? So him saying that makes me skeptical again about the nuance of the abuse here.) 

I also have some concerns bc some of the show’s team has worked on other titles that were about toxic male antiheros and there are definitely moments in those shows where you can’t tell if the writers are aware of themselves. IE: Tony Soprano is a racist bad guy who kills people and cheats on his wife, and yet there are still occasional narratives on The Sopranos that show the creators also had some of those same biases, and you must wonder if some of Tony’s actions or behavior weren’t intended to be catalogued in the ways he’s very evil.

So looking at the way they’re speaking about Lestat’s characterization, that they’re referring to it as a romance, and some of the patterns in their other work I do have concerns about how the abuse will be portrayed. I also worry about how the abuse will play on screen now that there is an added racial element, and if it will be too cruel or edge into messages that feel too real and hurtful to the audience. And, to circle back lmao, I’m not uncomfortable with objectionable morals in my fiction, but, some nuance would be good. 

Don’t get me wrong like I hope the ship on the TV show is like ABUSIVE and SEXY and I hope Louis is like HORNY and TRAPPED because he knows he should leave but he CANNOT! And I want there to be some steamy frustrated hatesex! And huge fights and makeup sex! LOL. But yeah I mean, pretending that Loustat is wholesome is a complete joke, and I really really hope that the show doesn’t misunderstand Loustat to a point where they aren’t aware of what they’re really portraying. LET THE STORY BE ABUSIVE BUT PLEASE BE AWARE OF YOURSELF! 

(Anne could have used this advice too in the second half of the series LMAO whoops but I think having that nuance would ultimately make these stories even richer. HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT CANON NONCOMPLIANCE EXCEPT MAKING AN EXTREMELY UNAWARE PORTRAYAL OF ABUSE IS COMPLETELY CANON, my bad.) 

And basically like. If it’s not going to be those things I’m just back to wondering why they wanted to adapt this book? So far the only thing in common with canon is like… New Orleans???? An interview of some type will take place? They have the same names? 

So it’s hard to hear the team talk about how respectful they are of the book when…. They’re not keeping anything from the book? LOL. What exactly did you see in this story that you wanted to express? I don’t get it. 😂 And I would hate for a book about morally dubious characters and abusive romances to be like, a campy vampire romance without any of those questions and themes. 

I’m not saying any of this to nitpick or be needlessly negative; I’m saying it to say it’s some of the things I’ve been wondering and some of the clues I’ve been looking for during the past year to see what exactly is going on with this show LOL. Again, I don’t think the trailer told us enough to know. I’ve been critical and looking for these things and genuinely don’t have a solid opinion yet because I haven’t gotten enough information. Lestat is certainly being extremely predatory and he looks unhinged as fuck so that’s a good sign LMAO. Louis even refers to it in the voiceover as being “hunted”, so it’s nice to know that he feels that way with 100 years of perspective. But we’ll have to wait and see! 

I think at this point I’m really hoping for like HANNIBAL LEVEL fuckery and like that type of unhinged gaslighting and manipulation LOL and I think Hannibal was about as far from canon as VCTV looks so far. I’m just doing my best to compartmentalize and be fair about the show while also acknowledging my extremely deep disappointment that we waited 5 years for WOLFKILLER STUFF AND NICKI only to be given an AU fanfic lol. And like, I give Hannibal a bit of a pass because by the time that show came out there had already been like 5 movies made of that franchise and they were mostly faithful so like at that point the idea had already been explored and it was time to remix. I don’t feel VC has ever gotten that shot yet so it’s sad that they went straight for a remix :( 

anyway sorry, I disappeared off tumblr for years but I apparently still answer anons with exceedingly meandering essays, I have no idea if this answered what you were asking but LOL YOLO ✌️

[fitia]

hmm top five series (can be anything but naruto 🧐) (if u would even consider that in ur top five)

Send me "top 5" anything

My "top 5" series is just a bunch of things I have an emotional attachment to tbh so yeah it counts, sjhfkshdksjdj. So again, in no particular order:

Naruto:

Listen. It's not very good, like everyone who's ever watched it and analyzed it on Tumblr will be only too pleased to tell you, but being properly into the show for the better part of my teenage years genuinely had a huge impact on how I approach media: it made me consider, for the first time, what author biases could be written into the story and its characters that hint at what their political and ideological leanings might be. Baby's first media analysis, etc etc.

Also the Naruto community is the one I consistently have the most fun in and I've met some really cool people! + I'm still very attached to its characters and the potential transformative stories I want to write with them, so. Idk I just think Naruto is one of those things that's just gonna stay with me for a while.

Anne of Green Gables:

This one's important to me bc it really took my love for reading and writing to an entirely different level; I adore L.M. Montgomery's style of prose, and often just return to the books at no particular spot just to appreciate how she works wuth words, woth rhythm, and how she describes nature in such a loving way that she makes everything sound magical. She's always been a main inspiration in how I want to write (though obviously, I don't want to completely imitate her, I just want what I write to come off with a similar vibe).

Also I LOVE Anne so much, she's one of my favourite characters in anything. I appreciate her particularly when she was a kid, since as an adult she gets a bit boring (but you can still see traces of who she was and she isn't quite letting go of them. She's a character I really see myself in, and who's also really fun. I thought her habit of giving things new, prettier names bc their old names were plain and unromantic to her was so fun that at some point I was looking at pretty nature photography and trying to give everything a pretty name myself. Also I have a tag on Tumblr entirely dedicated to gorgeous sights/landscapes that Anne would like.

Death Note:

It's not good, bad, but a secret third thing, which is that it introduced me to Light Yagami and I think he's the first character I came to like properly for the reasons of "oh god he's fucked up I can't wait to see what he does next". Also the manga, despite its glaring flaws, is a really, REALLY fun read. And also unintentionally funny. I had a really great time going through it in a way that I'd just love to forget it all just to experience it again.

Yu-Gi-Oh (specifically Duel Monsters series, I haven't read or watched GX or 5DS or anything beyond)

Again, not "good" but. So incredibly ridiculous and camp that I insist everyone experience it at least once in their lives. It's just so fun. Less for the card games but for how dramatic everyone acts about the card games.

Dragon Ball:

I just think it's fun and I've been a fan of it since I was 11. I do love mindless fighting and explosions so I'll come back to it every once in a whilw to get my fill.

[cakeinthevoid]

A Collection

Welcome to the writing side-blog! Main is @cauliflowermaterial, so that's how you'll know I'm following you.

I write snippets of larger stories that live in my brain and for prompts. I'll be reblogging whatever I like here—mainly writing prompts, dialogue lines, and angst.

AO3 account is under the same name (CakeintheVoid)

Masterlists/writing below the cut:

My Stories:

Sticks and Stones -> Set in a fantasy world that follows Liam, a cynical sculptor who, as a result of elaborate scheming, is forced to be a resident artist for an extravagant baron who loves to host parties that are the talk of the town.

Includes: art, some magic, parties

Carrie and Willow! -> Follow Carrie, a product of the institute and caretaker to various patients that need specialized/individual care. They receive Willow, who doesn't seem to speak at all—and who is rated a a danger to public safety. Can Carrie help them find themself again?

Includes: recovery, rehabilitation, non-verbal whumpee, caretaker&whumpee, and interactive prompt fills! Find it by searching for #Carrie and/or #Willow

Still Feel -> Revolves about the life of Lora, a young human who gets turned into a skeleton by more than mad scientist Dr Abberon.

Includes: medical experimentation, transformation, magic, found family, a whole load of angst, and eventual recovery.

Vigilante -> Takes place in V.E. Schwab's world in the Villains series, post Vengeful. Follow Auretta, a girl who was strangled to death and resuscitated—now she has air manipulation powers. It's all about finding community and acceptance (...with angst and hurt/comfort, and perhaps some canon character cameos)

Includes: sketchy thesis projects, captivity and restraints, superpowers, heroes and villains, and becoming powerful.

Running Like a Light -> Follow the escape of an alien from captivity after being bought and sold to space pirates.

Includes: mage activities, bodily harm, disability, abuse, violence, adventure and finding a new way to live.

Warm-Ups and Oneshots:

It Was Literally Just a Pen

Cry, Baby, Cry

Drink Rum, Drink Rum, Drink Rum and some other Whumptober2023 one shots. I could only do about the first week of the event.

This is a new pinned post because we are going into phase two** of the blog :) Everything before this point will have the 'in the void' tag.

(I'm not doing that anymore)

Trying my best with the tag system but since this blog is just a fun side thing for me, I'm not going to try and go crazy with it. For my own sake, below are some blog tags:

#my cake (for anything I write myself hehe)

#answered — for ask responses

#not my cake — not my writing tag

#writing prompt

#whump prompt — tagged separately from average writing prompts

#whump — there's enough of it to justify it

+ wip names, oc names, and media

Cheers if you made it this far!

[kanonkitastuff]

Do you know

Do you guys know

How much Starscream loves his babies???

It just melts me thinking about this murder bird getting all soft for his little gray blobs. Here he is with a tiny Mission. *w* @doomspoon888

[harrywritingsbyme]

The Best Christmas

Based Off Of These Asks since there are so many...I had to make a whole tag for them. 

A/N: I hope everyone had a great day!! Here is my little gift to you guys...some fluffy Christmas smut!! The smut is there and filthy, but I couldn't not give y'all some of the fluffy feels...I just couldn't help myself, so I hope it doesn't suck lol. Also, I’m adding this to A Series of Firsts...Enjoy🙃❤️

Even though this Christmas was a bit bittersweet since neither you nor Harry could spend the holiday with your families, it still managed to make its way to the top of you and Harry’s “Best Christmases” lists. Why? Because it was the very first Christmas you and Harry spent together since the beginning of your relationship. Sure the milestone came about by means of a global pandemic and yes the both of you wished that you could be with your families. But you and Harry were very willing and able to put all of that aside and focus on the positive that is your first Christmas together. Now since you two were living together for the past year (or however long this pandemic has been raging on), and it was your first Christmas, you and Harry made sure to pull out all the stops when it came to decorations and holiday activities. Well it was more so you than Harry on the excitement, but you were more than willing to include him.

Harry had a little bit of an extended break from filming, so once production wrapped for the remaining part of the year, the holidays officially began for you two and it started at the tree farm where you and Harry picked out the best tree you could find for your home. It took a little bit of bickering, a couple pouts here and there, along with some kisses, but the two of you were able to find and agree on the perfect tree. Along with said tree, you also bought tons of decorations for the house. And by tons, you meant tons. There were enough decorations to not only decorate your house, but yours along with someone else’s. While Harry called it crazy and overboard, you called it being festive and in the holiday spirit. And that’s all you really cared about along with essentially making the house a Christmas wonderland because you knew that no matter how much he teased you for it, Harry loved and thought that it was cute, overboard and all.

In the few days leading up to the 25th, you and Harry spent your time binge watching just about every Christmas movie on the planet, dancing around the house to your favorite Christmas music, and baking until you both were in sugar induced comas. Along with taking part in the happy festivities of the season, you and Harry also spent time talking to your families and trying your best at making up for the lack of your physical presence. And while you two were incredibly happy to be having your first Christmas together, it still stung to be away from your families for the first time, especially under these circumstances. But despite this bump in the road, you and Harry remembered the one thing that always got you both through any situation that wasn’t what you’d hoped. You two remembered that you had each other. And that with each other, you were going to have the best Christmas. 

And when the day arrived, it really was the best. 

For starters, you and Harry had the best morning sex ever. Aside from enjoying the seasons festivities together, you and Harry were also enjoying the continued stream of sex. It was absolute bliss to wake up on Christmas morning, nestled deep into the warm covers and tangled up with your lover. Add a round of slow, passionate, soft, and absolutely lazy morning sex into the mix and you were in heaven. And that was the perfect description of you and Harry’s morning. The both of you lazily moved with and against each other as you moaned into each others mouths and brung each other to your releases. It was absolutely amazing and the perfect way to start your day together.

“Merry Christmas baby” You hum softly, bringing your mouth to his for another kiss.

“Merry Christmas bub” He hums back to you with a sleepy smile spread across his face, closing the gap between your mouths. It was only supposed to be one kiss. But given the fact that it was you and Harry, on top of the fact that it was a milestone in your relationship, that kiss quickly escalated to another round of lazy morning sex which unsurprisingly topped the first round. The both of you were already incredibly sensitive from the first time so when you two went at it again, you and Harry exploded around each other.

After regaining the feeling in your lower halves, you and Harry begrudgingly pull yourselves from the warm and toasty bed, throwing the clothes that were strewn about from the night before back on and heading downstairs to call your families and then exchange the gifts you’d gotten for each other. Since it was a bit late in the morning in Los Angeles and there was a sizable time difference between there and London, when the two of you made your calls, the evening had already rolled around back home. But that didn’t stop either of you from gluing yourselves to your computer screens. It was just so nice to talk to your friends and family back home and have that connection even though you were so many miles apart. After talking and catching up with everyone, you and Harry said your goodbyes along with promises of talking more the next day before hanging up completely, leaving you both alone to get your first Christmas together going. To start things off, the two of you moved on to your gift exchange, which was filled with many pleasant surprises. You’d been giving each other gifts for a good while now and none of them topped the ones you’d gotten for each other this year. All of them were absolutely amazing and incredibly thoughtful, and the both of you prided yourselves on giving thoughtful gifts. While Harry gave you all of the gifts he’d gotten for you, you gave all of yours but one. It was special and you were saving it for later on.

But until then, you and Harry decided to have a Christmas themed spa day. After making breakfast, the two of you did everything from taking a warm bubble bath that had a strong and welcomed scent of sweet candy cane, to giving each other facials. The two of you even gave each other Christmas themed nails and had a little competition on who gave the best ones. And in the midst of all of this, the two of you were happily drinking the wine you loved so much while watching your all time favorite Christmas movies (rewatching them because they were just that good), randomly stopping every once in a while for a spontaneous round of sex. It wouldn’t be a Harry and Y/n Christmas if there was no random sex. You just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. It’d either start off with a kiss that sucked you and Harry down the rabbit hole of pleasure beyond compare or it’d be a simple proposition that neither of you could deny. Either way, the sex was absolutely amazing every single time. 

As the day lingered on, the pampering came to a nice end, (Harry won the nails competition and the both of you had the softest skin in the world), the Christmas movies had ended, and there was only a little less than half a bottle of wine left from the two bottles. The evening was finally coming around for you and Harry and it was getting closer and closer to the end when you would give him his final gift of the day. After taking a little nap to curb the headache that was forming for you both from all the wine, you and Harry made yourselves Christmas dinner for two and completely devoured it before going back upstairs to get ready for bed. The two of you were already on the same page for this process because once you hit the top of the steps you and Harry went right into getting another bubble bath ready. You chose a different scent from the last time, still in the Christmas realm, and you relit the candles that were burning a bit earlier. Once the bathroom is transformed into an aromatic oasis, you and Harry remove all of your clothing and sink down into the warm water and bubbles. 

“Today was a good day.” Harry sighs behind you, breaking the silence and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you tighter against him.

“It was.” You reply happily. “First Christmas together, success.” You continue on. 

“It was amazing.” He reminisces, bringing his head down to press a kiss to your temple. “Can’t wait to spend so many more with you baby.” He whispers happily. 

“Me neither.” You reply excitedly, pulling yourself out from his grip and slowly turning around to straddle his lap. “But nothing will beat our first.” You continue, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing your fingers to the hair on the back of his neck. 

“And this is just be beginning of all the first Christmases we’re gonna have lovie.” He says, causing your mind to immediately flicker to your future together and all of the firsts he was talking about.

“I can’t wait.” You whisper as you smile down at him, your voice filled with contentment and happiness from today and for the future. 

“I love you.” Harry says, wrapping is arms around your lower back. 

“I love you more.” You reply, bringing your mouth down to his for a sweet kiss. When your lips connect, sparks go off in your bodies. It was a very familiar feeling to you both but it was also a bit rare of a feeling too. Whenever you and Harry touched or kissed there was always a similar feeling to this one. But this feeling the two of you felt in this moment was ten times the normal feeling. Maybe it was the underlying conversation you two were having about your future together or something, you weren’t completely sure. What you do know is that you never wanted to depart from this feeling. You wanted to relish in it and never let it go. Luckily for you, being with Harry meant that you were going to be feeling this way many more times going forward. 

As the kiss continues on, you and Harry begin to softly move yourselves against each other, getting yourselves a little riled up. When you feel Harry’s cock beginning to harden beneath you, you pull your lips away from his a little. 

“I have another present for you.” You mumble against his lips. 

“What is it?” He questions, tightening his arms around you.

“If I told you right now it wouldn’t be a surprise. But if we get out of here I can give it to you.” You barter.

“Let’s get out of here then.” He agrees excitedly, loosening his arms from around you. The two of you then step out of the tub and right into the fluffy bathrobes your mom sent over for you and Harry. 

“Now you go in there and wait for me on the bed and I’ll be in shortly.” You explain.

“Don’t be too long.” He pouts down at you before pressing a wet kiss to your forehead and walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, leaving you alone to change. As soon as the door closes behind him, you go straight to the cabinet underneath the sink to reveal the box you’d hidden under there the day before. You quickly pull it out and you sit it on the counter before lifting the lid to reveal the lingerie you’d bought for the occasion. Since Harry loved seeing you in it and ripping it off of you, it was the perfect gift to give him. Especially the set you’d picked out. To stay in the Christmas spirit, you bought a sexy Santa lingerie set for him. Now there were many sets out there for you to choose from, but there was one that was just perfect and it was definitely something that Harry would love. There wasn’t much to it, only satin and a little white fur to really give it that Santa feel. It was ruby red and barely there with bows covering both of your nipples, and one covering your folds. There were small ties on the sides of your panties that could and would be snapped by Harry in an instant and there was a little fur lining at the top hem of the tiny panties and the top edges of the barely there cups of your bra. There was an underwire for a little support but the only fabric was the fur and the four sort of thick satin bands that formed the bow right at your nipples. It was absolutely perfect and you thought you looked amazing in it.You do a final once over in the mirror, adjusting the lingerie on your body and pulling the Santa hat onto your head. Once you’re completely done, you take a deep breath and you open the door to enter the bedroom. 

When you walk in, you see Harry sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for you, he didn’t even bother to change out of the robe. When he sees you step out of the bathroom, his jaw drops right to the floor. Harry was so glad the lamp on the bedside table was turned on because he needed to see all of you right now. You looked absolutely phenomenal in the lingerie. The material wrapped around your body perfectly and it accentuated your features. And per usual, there was so much to take in and Harry was in sensory overload with it all. He was literally drooling at the sight of you. The lingerie wasn't the present, the present was you.

“Santa, baby, I just want daddy to fuck me so bad.” You say in an innocent tone as you get even closer to Harry. “That’s all I want for Christmas. I just want daddy to fuck me nice and hard and dirty.” You continue as you climb into his lap. When you do this, Harry stops breathing for a second. He was so overwhelmed from how hard he was now and from how good you looked and from what you said that he forgot how to breathe. “Can I have that Santa?” You pout, moving yourself around in his lap to tease him a little. When you do this, Harry snaps out of his trance and quickly lifts you both up from the edge before throwing you back down onto the middle of the bed. 

“You just can’t get enough huh?” He asks, swiftly undoing the robe and shrugging it from his shoulders before crawling on top of you. “Always wanting daddy t’fuck you.” He chuckles, taking in your appearance below him. “You should be glad that Santa and daddy are the same person doll.” He teases before pulling at the ties to undo them, tossing the garment behind him. He then grips onto your forearms, quickly pulling you up and reaching a hand behind you to undo the bra, tossing it in the same direction as the panties once it’s off your body, leaving you in just the Santa hat that was on your head. Instead of taking your naked body in before digging into you, Harry just digs in. He pushes your legs farther apart before leaning down between them to lick a wide stripe up your already sticky folds, spitting down onto you on his way back up. Harry then wraps a hand around his girthy shaft and gives himself a few tugs before moving to hover over you, resting his forehead right against yours. “I love it when my presents are fuckable.” He whispers as he lines himself up with your entrance and begins to push into you.

“Yes daddy! Your cock f-“ You moan loudly as your eyes roll back, as you immediately reach up to claw at his bicep as he sheathes his large member with your walls. Even after so many rounds on and off throughout the day, you never failed to be stunned at how good it felt for him to be inside you.

“M’gonna fuck you so good baby.” He grunts as he pushes the last bit of his cock up into you. “Gonna fuck you real good.” He breathes out to you. And without wasting any time, Harry begins to piston his hips into you, pushing himself into you as deep as possible. The both of you were moaning messes, enjoying the pleasure that came from Harry’s thrusts. Harry felt right at home from the way your warm walls were gripping onto his cock. No matter how many times he fucked into you, Harry would always consider your walls to be magical. You were always tight, warm, and wet for him; absolutely perfect. As he continued to slam into your cunt, you were falling apart. It felt so good to have him pounding into you like this. It was quick and it was dirty. Harry was continuously and deliciously slamming his cock up into you while you cried out and withered below him from the pleasure. You were getting exactly what you’d asked for. 

The room was filled with your combined moans and cries as Harry continued on slamming into you. The only other sound in the room was the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of your drenched pussy. When his hips begin to slow down and he starts to push and hold his cock inside of you, that was the signal that he was nearing his release. As he did this, you too were rapidly approaching your release. You could feel his cock digging into your sweet spot and you could also feel the curly hairs around his cock pushing back and forth against your tingling clit. 

“Need t’cum daddy!” You cry as you try and connect your mouth with his, beginning to become overwhelmed with your need to let go around him. 

“Cum with me sweetheart.” He slurs, feeling the warmth from his release beginning to flood his entire body. “I got you another present too doll.” He grunts as he delivers a final thrust between your legs, shoving his cock all the way up into the deepest part of your pussy, catapulting you both right over the edge and into your blissful releases. “It may arrive a bit late though” He chuckles though his labored breaths as he continues to flood your walls with his cum. And as he lets go, you let go as well, squirting all over him, getting not only his lower stomach wet but the sheets below you two wet as well.

Once the two of you are completely done, Harry slowly pulls out of you, triggering the thick stream of his cum to begin pouring out of you and onto the wet sheets below. He quickly reaches over to turn the light out and collapses right onto the bed next to you, making to throw an arm around your waist. 

“Maybe next Christmas we can work on your present.” You hum, feeling yourself beginning to doze off.

“That sounds like a plan.” Harry readily and happily agrees before shifting closer to and following after you and drifting off to sleep.

Even though your first Christmas together wasn’t under the best of circumstances, it was still one of the best. All you needed was each other. And once you had that, everything was bound to be perfect. 

Masterlist

[strawwritesfic]

Clint Barton x Pregnant!Female!Inhuman!Reader: Where Gods Do Fear to Tread [Ch. 7]

Summary: Even Prince Charming can’t ensure a happily ever after.  

Challenge: “9 Months” challenge by crackleviolet on Lunaescence Archive -- Single Motherhood

Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (sexual reference; pregnancy; not canon compliant; canon character death; canon character death does not reflect canon; physical violence against androids; some foul language; canonical Barney; no Laura Barton; Inhuman!Reader; Avenger!Reader; Avengers Compound; Wanda & Reader friendship)

Pairings: Clint Barton/Female!Reader; Wanda/Vision

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Master List

Chapter 7: Kicks

If your temper had been bad before, it was nothing compared to the anger you felt after Clint’s death. There was no escaping the weight of his absence, not when his child still grew within your womb. You could not transform. You could not do your job. All that remained to distract you was picking fights with your friends, and so pick fights with them you did. Dr. Cho might as well have moved her entire facility to America by the time Thomas’ due date finally appeared on the horizon.

“You know, at this rate, once you go into labor, you won’t have any unbroken limbs left,” Dr. Cho told you one afternoon, after you’d made the poor choice of trying to punch Vision in the face.

You could tell that she was frustrated even though her bedside manner never wavered. You could also understand why she would be frustrated. She’d flown over from Korea five times in the last three weeks just so she could patch you up.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just looking for an excuse to see me,” she went on.

“You do fill a certain amount of the hole inside my heart,” you said.

She laughed. You were too consumed with the pain in your knuckles to crack a smile.

“Have you considered talking to someone about that hole?” she asked.

“You mean like Bruce?”

“Bruce isn’t that kind of doctor. Neither am I, even if I’ve been acting as all your other doctors lately. No, I mean a specialist. A psychologist.”

“Because those are so thick on the ground around here.” Now that she was done wrapping your hand up, you pulled it to your chest. “There’s nothing to talk about anyway.”

“You’ve been through a very traumatic experience. More than one, I’d say. There’s no shame in getting help. You’re about to be a mother.”

“I already am one,” you snarled.

“In my professional opinion, you need to see a psychologist. Steve agrees with me.”

“Good for him.”

With that, you snatched up your things. You were just about to storm out of the medical bay when someone appeared in the doorway that led to the hall. Dr. Cho’s warning for you to look out fell on deaf ears, and you collided with whoever decided to pop in.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass!” you said as the other person got back to their feet.

It was Wanda. She looked no more pleased to see you than you did her.

“You hit Vis?” she demanded without preamble. Of course she was only worried about her stupid impervious boyfriend. Not like running into her might have hurt your baby or anything like that.

“He was being an asshole,” you replied.

“By asking you if you wanted some help?”

“Yeah.”

Her normally soft eyes went hard. You glared right back. After a minute or so of the two of you standing like that, Wanda took a deep breath, then smiled at the watching Dr. Cho.

“Are you finished with [Name]?” she asked.

“For now,” said Dr. Cho.

“Good.” Wanda grabbed your good hand and yanked you down the hall behind her. Once you were far enough away that Dr. Cho could pretend she couldn’t hear you, Wanda whirled on you. “What’s the matter with you?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s the matter’ with me?” You gestured at your enormous stomach, causing Wanda to roll her eyes.

“That’s no excuse for trying to punch an innocent man.”

“I’ll punch anyone who thinks I can’t take care of myself—and it’s not like your damn boyfriend couldn’t rearrange his molecules so my hand just went through his face!”

“He didn’t expect someone to try to black his eye just because he offered to help her to a chair.”

“Well, maybe he should have. My hand is broken now, you know?”

“Oh, boohoo.”

“Hey, your precious boyfriend’s face is fine. That’s all that matters, right?”

For several minutes more, you and Wanda glowered at one another. You each crossed your arms across your chests. Just when you were starting to think that your only option for getting away from her would be to return to Dr. Cho, Wanda sighed and shook her head.

“Vis didn’t mean to break your hand. He was startled. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to treat us all like this.”

Since she was willing to uncoil, you decided to repay her kind. Her words, though, had no effect on your foul mood. “Treat you all like what?” you wanted to know.

“Like shit,” Wanda said. Her unusual choice to swear shut you down for the moment. “I know you’re upset, but you don’t corner the market in mourning.”

“I—”

“You miss him. We all do. I know it’s harder for you, but we’re all just trying to help.”

“I don’t want—”

“You will. [Name], we’re friends. You still consider me your friend, right?”

You looked away from her. “Of course I do.”

“Then listen to me.”

When you continued to stare at the floor, she stepped forward to take your hand. You allowed yourself to face her again.

“We’re your friends. We want to help you. I lost Pietro not too long ago. The only family I had left. If I can’t help you, who can?”

“I don’t want any help.”

“Why?”

Her question gave you pause. In the resulting silence, she watched you with her wide, thickly-lined eyes. Wanda didn’t mean any harm. You knew that. You also knew that she was still grieving over the loss of her twin brother, and that perhaps she understood what you were going through better than anyone else on the team. That was why it was so damn hard to answer. Finally, you looked back down at your feet once more.

“I just…can’t,” you said.

“Explain it to me. So I can understand.”

“I was always going to take care of him on my own, you know? That was my plan. Clint wasn’t supposed to factor in.”

“And you have a reason for that?”

“Obviously!” You freed your hand to run it through your hair. “I didn’t want to force anything out of him. If he stayed or said he loved me just because of Thomas…I’ve had enough of people pretending to care about me.”

She nodded. “Clint wasn’t pretending, though.”

“How do you know? And don’t feed me all that crap about him saying so at the end, or that you ‘felt’ it. You’ll say just about anything when you’re about to die. That’s something I know from experience.”

“Did you tell him anything but the truth when you trapped together?” Wanda asked softly.

“No. I mean, I hedged, but…”

“Then I don’t think he lied either. Neither of you got the chance to tell the other how you really felt. It’s okay that you’re mad. What’s not okay is pushing the rest of us away.”

You looked at her with tears obscuring your vision. Her face was now a blank, blurred oval that highlighted just how blank and blurry you really felt underneath all your tantrums. Shaking your head, you tried again to make her see:

“If he’d left me alone, it would still be okay. When he said he wanted to help, then I thought I wouldn’t be alone. It’s only because he said he wanted to stick around that I hoped he would.”

“But you’re not alone,” said Wanda. “We’re all still here. Vision and I, and Hope and Tony and Bruce and Steve—everyone.”

“And what happens when you all die, too?” you asked in a hard croak.

“Oh, [Name].” Completely blinded by the water in your eyes, you assumed Wanda would leave after breathing those words. She didn’t. Instead, she embraced you, holding you against her chest with surprisingly strong arms and caressing the top of your head. “There will always be one of us here to help you—you and Thomas. Okay?”

It was like a dam burst. All at once, you let out a wail that you muffled with her shoulder and neck. Tears gushed from your eyes and would not be stemmed. You gripped Wanda as though she were the only thing keeping you afloat in a choppy ocean. She really was, after a fashion. After all that time, she shouldn’t have had to say she’d be there for you, but she did anyway, and that meant enough to get you sobbing in earnest for the first time since Clint’s demise.

Wanda simply held you like that until at last your crying gave way to sniffles and hiccups. How long that took, you couldn’t really say. Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. All you knew for sure was that her neck and shoulder were both soaked when you finally peeled away.

“Better?” she asked as she patted you on the back.

“A little,” you answered weakly.

“Enough to quit going around punching people?”

“If by ‘people,’ you mean your—oh!”

“Oh?” Wanda frowned. “What is ‘oh’?”

In some kind of wonder, you placed your unbroken palm flat against your swollen stomach. The same sensation that interrupted you before came again. “I think—I think he’s kicking!”

She squealed. “May I feel?”

“Go ahead.”

Wanda didn’t wait to make sure you wouldn’t change your mind. She set her own hand just above yours. You both waited with bated breaths. Several seconds passed, then:

“I felt it!” Wanda cried.

“Do you feel anything else?”

“Not as well as others, but,” she smiled, “I think he’s happy.”

You closed your eyes. Happy. That emotion felt far off to you. But what did that mean for Thomas? His happiness was far more important than your own. Right then and there you vowed that no matter how you felt yourself about his father and your situation, you’d make sure your son stayed as happy and as safe as he could from that moment on.

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired chapter 6

Chapter 5

Mammon made it home in record time. He was like a man on a mission with how he marched through the house. He could hear Cyrus crying and he froze.

“No.” he told himself, “No, you are not stopping. Get. Over. It.” The demon forced himself to carry on towards Arella’s bedroom. He could hear her singing softly to the baby as he started to settle down.

“See? It’s okay.” she cooed as she leaned down to press a kiss to Cyrus’ forehead. “I know you miss your daddy, but he has to get his grades back up. We have to be patient and wait for him to get home.”

Cyrus only looked up at his adoptive mother, letting little coos and chirps out as he wiggled around in her arms.

“Arella.” Mammon called, surprising her a little.

“Mammon!” She smiled. “How was your day? I thought you’d be staying later... Is everything alright?”

“No,” the demon replies. “Nothing is alright. This isn’t fair to you. Cyrus is my kid. I’m the one who said I’d keep him and I’m making you do all the work? That’s horrible, don’t ya think?”

“What? No, I don’t mind this.” She smiled, trying to reassuring her partner. “You help enough, Love. It’s not like-”

“No, I don’t help nearly as much as I should. I’m only able to keep him when he’s quiet but the minute my own child starts cryin’, I push him off on someone else- usually you. I’ve been such a terrible mate and an even worse father and for what? Somethin' that’s not even his fault?! I’m bein’ ridiculous. I’ve put all this weight on your shoulders when I shouldn’t have.” His voice began to rise with each word, unknowingly transforming into his demon form which scared Cyrus.

The infant began crying loudly as he hid his face against Arella’s chest. She immediately tried to calm him as the Avatar of Greed rushed forward to them returning to a more human-like appearance.

“Let me have him.” He frowned. Scaring his son was the last thing he wanted.

Arella would only nod as she handed the boy off to his father, watching carefully for any signs of distress from her boyfriend or from Cyrus.

“I’m sorry, Buddy.” Mammon lowers his voice to a softer, quieter tone as he bounced the baby in his arms- a trick that often worked well with Satan during his infancy, “I didn’t mean to scare ya. Please don’t cry.”

His movements were tense at first but soon relaxed as Cyrus started to wind down. Once the boy was calmer, his face buried in his father’s neck which made him stiffen briefly, a grimace on his face as he fought the impulse to pull away.

“Mammon,” she started, “please, don’t force yourself to take care of the baby. It won’t end well.”

“Don’t worry, babe,” he looked to her, “If I don’t make myself do this, I’ll never be able to get past it. I’ll keep him for the rest of the night. I’m sure ya have things ya wanna do, right?”

“I mean I do have homework, but I really don’t want to do that right now,” She admits. “Maybe... we could do something together? Maybe go out with the baby or shopping?”

“It has been a while since you’ve really left the house,” he nodded. The idea of them going out and doing the things normal families do was tempting, he had been longing for that kind of thing. “I’ll get him fed and get him dressed in warmer clothes while you go get ready.”

Arella nodded as she gathered up some clothes and headed to the shower to wash up.

Mammon looked down at his child who still had his face buried in the crook of his father’s neck. The demon padded over to where Arella had been keeping the formula and started to make a bottle for him. It was a lot harder to make a bottle while also holding an infant than he remembered- maybe because Satan wasn’t as squirmy as Cyrus was. He knew the boy was just trying to get comfortable but it was making his stomach twist and tie in knots as he feared he might drop the child. How much did infants take at feedings again? Was it three ounces, two?

Just to be safe, he grabbed the container of formula and went into the kitchen to fill three ounces of water into the bottle before adding the powder and shaking the bottle to mix it together. He ran it under warm water for a bit and tested on his skin it to make sure it wasn’t too hot for Cyrus.

He readjusted the little one in his arms as he gave him the bottle, holding it at an angle where the baby couldn’t take too much too fast. When Cyrus wouldn’t eat anymore, Mammon pulled the bottle way to see how much he’d actually taken. His eyes widened in alarm when he saw how little his son had actually eaten.

“An ounce?” he asked as he looked down at Cyrus with a worried expression. “No wonder you’re always cryin’, kid. Ya gotta be starvin’. Do ya just not like the taste of formula? Is that why you’re not eatin’ enough?” He tried to offer the bottle back to his son, but Cyrus only turned his head away and let out a whine. “Ya really ain’t going to eat any more than that, huh?” He grabbed a kitchen towel and placed it over his shoulder as he laid his son up against his shoulder.

He started to pat Cyrus on the back until he heard a few burps from the child. The white-haired demon pulled the towel off his shoulder and placed it in the wash basket in the laundry room as he readjusted the infant in his arms so he was cradled in Mammon’s arms. He took a few moments to really look at Cyrus for the first time since he was brought home. The Avatar of Greed knew he was lucky sometimes, but he never really processed just how much Cyrus looked like him. As unfortunate as he was to experience what he had at the hands of the witches, the fact that his son had absolutely no traits from his biological mother- whichever one of them that may have been- was a miracle.

“Ya really are my little mini me, aint’cha?” He let a small smile grace his lips, “This might work then. I really could pretend you were always ‘Rella’s kid with me...” He brushed a thumb over the baby’s cheek and felt a warm feeling start to form in his chest as Cyrus’ tiny hand came up to grasp his thumb and he smiled at Mammon for the first time. He felt tears start to gather in the corners of his eyes at the thought. “Our baby...”

The sound of that made the demon hopeful and ultimately, he was glad he forced himself to do this. All he wanted was to be a good father despite everything. He wanted to give his son the loving home he deserved- one he knew the child wasn’t going to get with the witches.

“I’m lettin’ ya know right now kid, your old man can be a real idiot sometimes and I know I’m gonna make some mistakes with ya- I already made a couple- but I think you’re gonna turn out just fine...”

“I think you’re going to do just fine too, Mammon. You’re already on the right path.”

Mammon’s head shot up at the sound of his older brother’s voice as Lucifer came to join him, leaning back against the counter as he looked down at Cyrus.

“This really was the best-case scenario. He could have had any mix of features and yet he turned out looking exactly like you.”

“It really is a miracle, huh?” The second-born smiled. “I don’t think I could have done this otherwise, ya know?”

“I agree. I’m ashamed to say, but if he had looked anything like one of them, I would have killed him on the spot regardless of your wishes. As impossible a choice as it was, I would have put your well-being above all else- including the life of an innocent child.”

“I know you would have. That’s what makes you such a great older brother, ya know? No matter what kind of trouble the six of us seem to get ourselves into, when it really matters, you’re always there to save the day. You always have the answers.”

“For a moment that night, I didn’t.” The first-born admits. “After finding out what happened to you all I felt was wrath and guilt... I introduced you to those horrible women all those years ago when you were looking for a place for that human girl. Back then I could have never guessed it would lead to all of this... and then when we heard Cyrus for the first time, I couldn’t believe it at first.”

Mammon only nodded at that. “I’m glad you didn’t though. Things may be rough right now- I may not be able to completely separate him from the events of those nights, right now- but I think as long as I keep pushin’ myself to do this, it’ll happen eventually. That I’ll be able to love him at some point... All I want is to do right by him, Lucifer. All of us aside from Satan know what it’s like to have a father that never loved us apart from our usefulness as the seven virtues... And I always told myself that if I ever had a kid at some point that I would show them all the love that the old man never gave us.”

Lucifer let out a chuckle at that, “To be honest, I don’t think he even loved us in that aspect either. If he really did, he wouldn’t have sentence Lilith to death. We wouldn’t have had to wage war with him. The only ones who ever loved us were the angels who carried us until our births.”

“Yeah, but the war was inevitable, Lil was just the last straw- for all of us.”

The brothers were silent for a time, the only sounds that could be heard be heard coming from Cyrus as he purred in contentment.

“I’m gonna see if Arella’s ready and get him dressed in some warmer clothes. She wants us to go out with Cyrus and I don’t know ‘bout you, but I think it’s high time to show him off.”

“Have a good time then,” the eldest nodded with a soft smile as his brother headed back to Arella’s room.

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Masterlist 2

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 20: Second Assist

Characters: Captain Logan “Sy” Syverson, Shane Benton (OFC), various other original supporting/secondary characters

Summary: Shane reunites with friends and family, hashes out some feelings, and gets real with Sy. Can their relationship survive her trauma? And the threat that still looms above them?

Romance and Smut Abound HERE!

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Mention of rape, alcoholic beverages, violent imagery…feels out the butt.

Author’s Note: You guys are so splendid and beautiful! I can’t thank you enough for your support and encouragement to finish this piece. First, welcome to new readers! I know poor Henry’s injury and subsequent physiotherapy has driven some of you here, and while I’m sorry for him, I’m glad I can consider myself something of a pioneer in this particular genre and provide you some help for your newfound thirst. To my OG readers, it is to you I owe this entire work, parts written and incomplete, and I hope an eventual book deal. I mean to mention you in my acknowledgements, should this ever reach a willing publisher. You’ve inspired me so supremely that I cannot quantify it, even with the words I hold so dear.

Since my last chapter was posted, we’ve said a relieved goodbye to 2020 and a tentative hello to 2021. To be honest, this year has started out worse than last year. Lots of bad weather in my area this winter, my sister is currently on her way to a new life in another state, and my grandmother, the last grandparent I had, passed away in February. Those last two things have been especially difficult to shake off and recover from, both coming to fruition pretty suddenly. Amongst all that, I’ve been pretty distracted by my other fandoms, especially Marvel, and I’ve been reading a killer book series that I’m utterly in love with. (The Throne of Glass novels by Sarah J. Maas. 10/10 recommend.) But I knew I needed to get back into Shane and Sy’s story, especially given the new and rekindled interest in the subject matter. In all honesty, I’ve had most of it written for months. It’s just been a matter of finishing it off to set up the rest of the story.

I really hope you all enjoy Chapter 20, Second Assist, and would love your feedback and notes. You are all so important to this story, and your notes, reblogs, and comments are cherished. Thank you so much for reading! Love from Hannah!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism. This is an original work by me, Hannah. Please reblog if you wish to share. Please do not repost either in whole or part, as the work of anyone but myself. Thanks so much for reading!

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X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Shane woke in her warm bed, late morning sun streaming in through her sheer curtains, the heavier drapes parted to let in the light. She wished she'd remembered to close them before now. She really was not ready to be awake.

She was sore. Achy. Her sleep had been fitful and full of shadowy nightmares and muffled screams. Beyond that, she didn't try to remember images or events. She knew the general premise of the dreams. It would take a lot of time, effort, or a miracle to make her forget those traumas she'd been through in the last week. Not even forget. She knew she never would. But move on from them. Accept them. And heal from them…even that seemed a mighty obstacle. One she was not sure she could surmount.

Through the open bedroom door, she could hear Lynyrd Skynyrd and the clanging and sizzling of pans, and she could smell bacon and freshly brewed coffee. Sy had left the room, but had not, it seemed, gone far. She gingerly sat up, stood from the bed, and donned her robe as she walked out into the hall and down the corridor to the kitchen.

The sight before her warmed her heart. There was Sy. In only his boxers, daringly frying the notoriously dangerous breakfast meat. Upon her entry to the kitchen, she could also smell pancakes, and she thought syrup, as well. He seemed to be warming a bottle of the maple unction in a pot of hot water. He turned as she stepped on a squeaky floorboard, and grinned widely at her.

"Mornin' sunshine." And she was struck by the irony of someone with such a radiant smile calling her sunshine. Especially when she didn't feel much like beaming. But she couldn't help return the expression, even through her pain.

"Mornin' bear. Did you go to the store?" She knew she couldn't have any bacon in her fridge, and she doubted her eggs and milk were still good at this point. But she also couldn't think that he would leave her for any reason.

"Nah, some of the guys brought over some provisions. Matt worked on your car all night, too, and filled up the tank. It's as good as new. He and Nate brought ‘er over as well as the groceries. I just had ‘em get stuff I knew your family wouldn't be bringing later. They've had tons of food given to them this week, and they're ready to share. You should have seen your mom loading me down with sandwiches and chips and whatnot when I visited them."

"I still can't believe you met them. I really wanted to introduce you personally." Shane's face fell. She would never be able to get that back. She wanted to cry. Sy had poured her a cup of coffee and sat it in front of her with her favorite creamer.

"Darlin' I’m so sorry. I had to talk to them."

"I know." she sniffed. "I'm not mad. Not at you. Just…"she didn't want to say Elliott's name. "I'm disappointed that the experience was stolen from me." That so many things had been stolen from her. By that monster. There was no other way to describe him. Sy growled. As if he could read her mind. He really just knew her well enough and shared her thoughts.

"Well, don't worry, we'll have a nice dinner with them one of these days, and we can pretend. Sound good?"

"Yeah, and I can feign nervousness." she laughed.

"And I'll pretend too. That I'm scared to meet your dad." he chuckled. "What if he threatens me with his shotgun?"

"I'll pull the ol' 'Daddy, no, I loooooove him!' line, as I throw myself between you!"

"That oughta work." he laughed and kissed her on the forehead as he stepped toward the stove and flipped a pancake.

As they sat eating their late breakfast, Shane's mind wandered. Nothing had changed on the surface, but everything was different now. This cozily mundane breakfast with her boyfriend felt like an out of body experience. As delicious as it was, as wonderful and comforting as it should feel, her guard was up. Even through her amiable façade. She was not the person she was two weeks ago. She was not the same woman who said goodbye to Sy at the base. Maybe that was the real transformation. Maybe that was why nothing felt normal. It wasn't the world, but her own self coming back into it.

"Shane?" Sy asked, gently, but it felt like he was speaking through a megaphone directly into her ear. She was so startled, she nearly dropped the half full mug of coffee that was paused midway to her lips. A bit sloshed out onto the table and splashed her shirt.

"Shit!" she chided herself. It wasn't a big deal, but she felt stupid jumping at the sound of her own name.

Sy reached for the closest towel, hanging from the oven handle, grabbed it and started for her clothes with it. She stopped him. But she couldn't think about why the intimate act made her uncomfortable.

"No, don't, it's fine. These clothes have seen better days, anyway." She pulled the towel from him and began to mop up the small puddles of coffee around her plate.

Sy seemed to note the stains already present on the shirt, as if trying to divine their history. She was something of a messy eater, so the battle wounds of many a barbecue, spaghetti dinner, and hurried breakfast peppered the now off-white SATB club tee she'd gotten her second or third year in college choir. She thought back to a huge room with high ceilings. White, cinder block walls, flecked tile floors, a beautiful, glossy, black baby grand in front of a long whiteboard with black lines to resemble sheet music. She thought about the mnemonic device she'd learned to help her remember what notes appeared on each line, and in the spaces between them. She pondered the deeper meanings and implications of these devices. EGBDF…every good boy does fine. She thought about the "good boys" in her life. She knew many. Her dad, her brother Ethan, Sy, obviously, her many male coworkers and friends…and honestly they did far better than "fine." They were wonderful. But she was letting the "bad boys" she'd encountered dictate her mood. Permeate her psyche. Tear her down. She didn't want to be like this. Then FACE came to mind, and above their purpose of indicating the notes between the lines on the staff, they called her to action. To face these newly minted demons with all the strength she knew she possessed, and she too would "do fine." But as with almost all actions, this was easier said than done.

She felt a warm presence on her left hand which had paused it's torture of the now coffee-infused kitchen towel. Sy's hand was squeezing hers gently.

"Shane." he uttered, barely above a whisper this time. She looked at him through tears that she had not realized had formed. He continued.

"Shane, what can I do, darlin'? I'll do anything."

"Babe, you're doing everything you can, and more. This…this is all going to have to come from me. I…don't know when I'll be myself again…" she paused, tears streaming now. "I'm…I'm different."

"You're not though." he reached for her face, but she pulled away.

"I am, damn it! Sy, I was…" Words had power. And the one she was thinking of had more power than she thought was warranted. She knew that uttering it would take away it's power…and yet mustering the courage and strength to actually do so…seemed impossible. She took a deep breath, and disassociated herself from the statement, even though it was about her own past.

"I was raped." She refused to cry. She felt it all again. She had never said the words. She had never thought it necessary. Everyone understood. Sy, his friends, and she was sure her own loved ones had made the connection. But she knew she needed to say it now to drive home the points she was about to make.

Sy, looked at the table, nodding, not needing to be told in so many words something he already had surmised from the clear evidence. He remained silent. She went on.

"I love you, Sy. I have since the day we met, on one level or another, and I believe that I always will. But I…right now I can't be a proper girlfriend to you. I can't…be with you, touch you, be touched by you, in the way we used to be. In the way you deserve…and I don't know when…or even if…I ever will. Not that I don't want to. That's ALL I want in the world. To go back. To be the woman who fell in love with this…incredible man. To make love with you, but…I can't."

Sy's eyes were full of tears, their predecessors already descending his round cheeks and disappearing into his thick, dark beard.

"Sy, I don't want to lead you on and keep you tied to a relationship with no life in it. You deserve someone who's whole. Someone who can be a fully invested partner for you, and not this broken, damaged--"

"You stop that, Shane. I won't hear no more of this kinda talk. Y'hear? You're my girl. My woman. My person. No matter what. You gotta know I'd never leave ya just cuz you aren't ready for sex again. You don't think that I would, do ya?"

"Well, you went to Virginia…you took that job…knowing the distance it would put between us. Literally and figuratively."

"Biggest mistake of my life." Shane raised her eyebrows in surprise as Sy elaborated. "I couldn't focus on my classes without wishing you were there. Wishing I could team up with you for discussions and hand to hand combat training…that thought got me a little too excited, if you catch my drift." He smirked, pulling a sheepish smile from Shane. "Then in that forest. I dreamt about you every night. I thought of you constantly. I could barely breath sometimes, I missed ya so damned much. I was an idiot. I was insane to think that I needed anything other than you. Any MORE. There IS no more. You're it. You're the MOST! The most important thing in my life."

The declaration hung like vapors in the air, more felt than seen. Tangible yet ethereal.

"And when I found out that you were missing…I was…well, I think I looked like death…and not warmed over. You can ask the program director I met with after I got the news. She could tell I was just sick over it. And as I thought about it on the way home, pieced things together, started thinking about who'd taken you, I got murderous. Shane, I have been in dozens of battles, skirmishes, firefights, you name it. War. But…the sheer bloodlust I felt thinking about what you could be going through…I've never experienced anything like it. Everything was red. Everything. For days. Until I saw you, alive. And then it went red again when I saw the fear and damage on your face." she could tell he was doing his best not to talk about the farmhouse and that basement, but she still flashed back to the moments before and after his appearance there. The moments when she simultaneously prayed to live and hoped to die.

"You don't owe me anything, Shane. I just want you in my life, and I don't care what your presence looks like. Romantic, platonic, or somewhere in between. I'm here for you. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Shane felt the urge to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, but could not seem to move more than one arm to place her other hand on top of his. She hoped the gratitude and love behind the small, but heartfelt gesture landed. It was all she had in that moment, no matter how abundant her affection.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shane's family's arrival was a complete blur to her. It was joyous, tearful, and the happiest she'd been in a long time. The moment she opened the front door for them, she was surrounded, engulfed with hugs from her parents and siblings. They stood in their affectionate huddle for several moments before Peg waved Sy over with marked insistence. He'd been standing by, observing happily, but not wanting to intrude on the familial reunion.

When they finally dispersed, John asked the two younger men to help him bring in groceries. The women headed into Shane's bedroom for a more private setting in which to talk. Shane filled her mother and sister in the best she could given the rawness of the wounds left on her mind by the events.

She leaned against the headboard cuddling with Gabby while her mom rubbed her feet. She had insisted on doing this thing that had always comforted her children, and made them feel much better when they were younger.

"Well, I'm very proud of you, pumpkin." The girls both looked at their mother, who rather uncharacteristically hadn't spoken in some time. Shane was nonplussed. Peg elaborated.

"You survived something that many women don't. You're talking about it now, which even more women don't. You may think you're broken, but you're just a tree damaged by a storm, but standing stronger than ever." Trust her mom to lay such wisdom on her. When she felt like giving up. When she just wanted pity. When she could only see defeat. Her mother had always found a way to encourage and buoy her and show her the victory.

"Mom's right." Gabby affirmed, and it was Peg's turn to be nonplussed, as the two women, though similar in so many ways, never seemed to see eye to eye. "It's true. Shane I've seen a lot of women come into the clinic in shoes very much like yours. And trust me…some of them…they don't make it to this point. You've got a long way to go before you're fully recovered, don't get me wrong, but you'll get there. You have us. And you have Sy."

"And then there's Sy." She diverted. "How am I supposed to plan any sort of future with him when…" She looked at her mom, and hesitated. Peg rolled her eyes.

"Shane, I know what the two of you get up to when you're alone. You don't have to be shy with me."

"Still…" she took a breath and spoke. "When I can't bring myself to…sleep with him?"

"Look at him, you're kidding, right?" Gabby chided, insensitively, but recanted at the pained expression on Shane's face. "Sorry, sis. Trying to lighten the mood a touch. Too soon. But seriously, I don't think this reluctance you feel will be permanent."

"And even if it is," Peg took over, "that man is out-of-his-mind in love with you, Shaney." She kissed Shane's toe before putting a sock on her foot. "He almost seems to worship you. Now, you know how I feel about using that term outside of religious context, but that is exactly the kind of love I want for you. Devout, and unconditional."

"But, mom, I can't--"

"Did you hear me? I said 'unconditional,' sweetie." Peg interrupted. "No matter what. No matter the obstacle. No matter the distance. No matter the circumstances. Love unwavering. That's what Sy has for you. I've seen it in him. Trust the momma."

The insistence her mother placed on trust had always ruffled Shane's feathers. Gabby's too, who she could feel stiffen slightly beside her. But Shane, for once, really wanted to trust her mother, hoping against hope that she was right. And that she, herself  wouldn't screw up the best relationship she had ever been in or was likely to ever be in again.

The girls had begun talking about some of the coworkers who'd brought food in the past week, and Peg couldn't resist remarking on the character of her favorites and judging the ones she didn't care for…oddly enough, getting more or less, the correct measure of them, as Shane saw it.

After what must have been an hour from the time they'd arrived, they heard a knock on the slightly ajar bedroom door. John poked his head in.

"Ladies, we've put a casserole in the oven, and completed various manly projects around the house--"

"Oh, daddy, what projects?" She cringed. She hated that the men had felt the need to "fix" things.

"Babe, your guest bathroom had not one, but two leaky faucets, your kitchen table seemed to be more of a teeter-totter, and half the light bulbs in the living room were out. Among other tiny things. You're welcome." he smirked his crooked smirk so similar to her own, and she returned it as if he was looking in a mirror.

"Thanks, dad."

"Anyway, lunch is almost ready. So, when you've finished your confab, let's eat."

Dinner passed amiably, Shane found a reserve within herself to allow some quasi-normal behavior, as long as you didn’t look too closely. She was talking animatedly with her siblings, making their parents and Sy laugh riotously. Shane noticed some odd looks passing between Sy and her father, but chalked it up to paranoia. She wished at least Gabby and Ethan could stay, but Heather would be over soon, and she deserved her own dedicated time. Shane wanted to give that to her.

She said her farewells to her family with promises to visit them the next day, and at least one more time before her siblings went back home, if she could work it out.

Sy was so wonderful the whole time. Standing by her, a hand resting lightly on her shoulder as they waved goodbye to the departing vehicle. He made her feel so safe. They went into the kitchen and cleaned up from lunch. Well, Sy cleaned. Shane was texting Heather about when she'd be over.

"Heather says she'll be here in about a half hour. She's picking up wine and pizza." Shane told Sy without looking up from her phone. She could see out of the corner of her eye, though, that he had just closed the dishwasher and was selecting a cycle.

"Sounds great. Do you want me to get out of here? Give you guys some time, one on one?" He asked as he dried his hands, wet from preparing dishes for the machine.

She thought about it, and shuddered. She played a scene in her head that startled her. In her mind's eye, she saw Sy leave and then moments later heard a knock on the door. Presuming it was Heather, she opened the door with abandon, only to see Elliott standing there under a flickering porch light, smirking maliciously at her and ready to overpower and abduct her again. She shook the thought from her head, but remained uneasy as she answered his question.

"Uh, no. Thanks. I'm sure she'll want to talk to both of us. She likes you." Shane grinned softly at Sy in an attempt to mask her trepidation over the thought of him leaving her alone for any period of time. She thought it had worked.

"Okay, well, whatever you think, sunshine. I don't wanna get in the way." He was wiping down the countertops. She felt so impossibly full of love for him, she was starting to wonder how she hadn't yet burst with it. She couldn't bear the thought of holding him back from a fulfilling relationship. He deserved everything she couldn't give him right now. And she knew she should make him leave her. Cut him loose. But she was, as she'd been since she'd met him, a weak woman. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him. Of him no longer being hers. And somehow worse, of not being his, herself. She would always need him for so many reasons, not least of which being her love for him. Maybe one day, she'd recover from this trauma, and be able to be who he deserved. To give him what he needed.

"You're never in the way, bear." She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed him as tight as she could. He placed a loving hand over hers, sighing and smiling, though she had no visual proof of the latter. It was just a feeling.

Heather's greeting was no less exuberant than that of Shane's family, but it was more joyful and less emotional, even though she was immensely relieved to see her best friend after so long. They talked as if no time had passed, and Shane mustered up the dregs of her former self to have one more interaction for the day. Thank God it was Heather and not someone who would require more. She wouldn't have it to give.

"I am so glad you're okay, Shane! Things around the clinic have been bleak as fuck. Susan is loosing her mind, Anita is beside herself with concern, and the rest of us just plain ol' miss the hell out of you. And not just because of all of the overtime everyone has been pulling to get your patients seen."

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize…wow, I'm awful. I didn't even think---"

"That you'd be missed? Think again, sister. The place would fall apart if you ever really left. But don't feel guilty. It's the least everyone can do, and they've all said it themselves. We all love you, and know that you'd do the same for any of us if you could at all. Hopefully you won't have to, though!"

Shane nodded, eyes wide in agreement. She wouldn't wish the last week of her life on her worst enemy. On the worst person in the world. Except maybe the people responsible. Tit for tat.

"Well, I'm sorry my absence has caused extra work for all of you." Shane looked into the deep glass of Chardonnay Sy had poured her from the bottle Heather had brought. She felt about as small as the air bubble making it's way up the sloping curve of the stemless vessel. She felt a guilt that she knew was fully void of logic. It made no sense for her to feel guilt for being kidnapped. But she had always had this notion, this nagging voice in her head that told her that her misfortunes were a direct result of her decisions. That she'd inadvertently stepped on the butterfly that resulted in the monsoon she was currently experiencing, and whatever cataclysmic events she would face next.

"Why in God's name are you apologizing for this, Shay?" Heather's tone was kind, but still mildly scolding.

"If I'd never been with Elliott, none of this would have--"

"Bitch, are you a fortune teller?"

"No, but--"

"Soothsayer?"

"No."

"Time traveler?"

"I wish!" Shane chuckled. But she really did wish.

"Have you any real and proven success at consistently predicting the future?"

"I don't, but--"

"No. No buts. No howevers. You had no idea what becoming involved with Elliott could have done. Were there signs, sure. But you can't look on the past as a rubric to judge the quality of your decisions. You know that. You can only learn from your mistakes. And you have."

"Heather's right, sunshine. You really have learned. You look for Elliott's behaviors in mine and shut me down quick if you see 'em. You're not going to let yourself go down that road again. And I'm proud of you for it."

Shane silently worried her wine glass. It was hard to argue with such truth. But it was hard to agree when her own feelings were in such stark opposition. So she did neither.

"Well, I've preached my sermon for the day." she laughed. "I've taken up enough of your time. Oh, your phone. It's in my purse. I think it's fully charged, but I turned it off."

Shane thanked her friend, then Heather hugged them both and took her leave.

"Y'okay, bug?" Sy asked her after what she surmised was several minutes of silence. Minutes she didn't notice as they passed.

"Mmm…" she trailed off.

"Can I do something for ya?" And she really thought about the question. He could probably do a lot of things for her. He could make love to her until she felt whole again, even if it hurt her at first. Not an ideal option. He could probably get them both some new identities and enough money to spirit her away to somewhere her past wouldn't follow. If she became someone new, literally, would she have to bring that old baggage, those old scars, with her? Again, suboptimal. But he could definitely take the source of all grief and turmoil in her life far into the Missouri back country, somewhere not even the hunters would venture, some fallow field or forgotten cistern, and end him. Snuff out his spark of life like a candle caught in a tornado. Spill a fatal amount of his monstrous blood onto the unforgiving earth and send him to the Hell to which he was undoubtedly destined. But did she want that? Did she want another soul as a scar on that of the man she so deeply cherished? He'd say it was worth it. He'd say he'd take a thousand more for her. A million. That was Sy.

"Nothing comes to mind." She lied. And he knew it was a lie, but didn't push it. She was so grateful that he respected her, not for the lie itself, but for the reason she wasn't giving him the whole truth just now.

His phone went off and he picked it up as he stood from his seat at the table. She could only hear that it was Matt, the guy she thought she understood had the car place, before she heard tension in Sy's voice. Even from the next room, she could tell something was wrong, though he was talking too quietly for her to make out words.

She heard him suddenly shout a stream of profanities that he rarely said at all around her, at least, let alone together. There was a bang, and the walls of her kitchen quaked like the tectonic plates beneath them were shifting.

Sy walked back in, his face was red, as were his knuckles. He was shaking an injury out of his hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, deep concern at his appearance and demeanor, suddenly ominous.

"I need to fix your wall in there." he grumbled, evading, without success. She'd be doing therapy on his hand, next.

"What's really wrong?" she repeated, sternly.

"That was Matt. Elliott's…escaped, somehow. He's in the wind."

Shane's heart became so heavy, she could almost feel it smashing through the kitchen floor and burying itself deep in the cement floor of her basement.

"Oh, God! No! What if he goes to the police!?"

"Fuck that, I'm more concerned about him coming after you!"

The two stared, faces full of equal measures of concern for the other.

Up Next: Chapter 21-Patient Education

[makoodlesarchive]

in bloom 🌼 || bnharem server collab

hellooo everyone!! this is my piece for the bnharem sfw collab. The theme this time was ‘flowers’! i had the absolute pleasure of writing for my baby kiri! this collab was actually super fun to write for, i had a blast 🌸🌸🌸

please go and check out all of the fantastic works on the masterlist here!

kirishima x reader

word count: 4.9k

｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆ ｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

Your apartment in Musutafu is small and cramped, with thin walls and very little natural light. The rent is extortionate for what it is, even considering the location in the city centre, and at least once a month there’s a complex wide electrical blackout. You can overlook all of the faults of the apartment though, because it’s in a safe neighbourhood close to a hero agency and, most importantly, it’s got a balcony.

Like the rest of the apartment, the balcony is small, but you’ve got enough room to cram a little outdoor bench into the corner. The rest of the space is filled with planters full of flowers and leafy pants, transforming the cramped little space into your own tiny garden. As the weeks begin to melt into summer, your little garden transforms into a wildy colourful and delightfully fragranced haven for butterflies and honeybees. You love to curl up on your little bench with a book, relishing the warmth of the sun on your face and the musical buzzing of the bees flitting about your Lantana flowers. Your apartment’s location on the ground floor means that you don’t get a whole load of privacy, but it doesn’t stop you from spending as much time as possible on the balcony beneath your hanging ivy planters.

Another bonus to the ground floor balcony is the cute redhead that wanders past every day at 2pm and then again at around 9pm. You’re not entirely sure when exactly you first noticed the man, but since you’ve moved in he’s become a permanent fixture in your daily routine. In the afternoons when you take a break from working from home and sprawl out amongst the leafy greenery of the balcony, you always catch a glimpse of him. You guess he must work in one of the offices nearby, and judging by the hastily buttoned jacket and wrinkled sweatpants he changes before going on his lunch break.

Every day he walks by, and every day you see him craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your balcony. It’s not uncommon for people to stare, considering your balcony is basically a green splash amongst the dull grey drabness of your apartment building, but unlike all the other curious passers-by, whenever this guy makes eye contact with you when you’re sitting out he’ll make sure to grin widely and wave at you. It’s sweet. You know next to nothing about the guy, other than that he always seems to be in a hurry and he has a smile so bright and toothy it could probably be seen from space, but those little interactions always put you in a good mood for hours afterwards.

After countless days of waves and smiles from a distance, you look up one day to find him grinning and waving yet again, but this time with a new addition. In his hand is a little potted cactus, which he holds up in the air so you can see. 

“It’s for my office!” he yells to you. There’s a shrubbery area right outside your balcony that acts as both decoration and security to prevent anyone from just strolling up and hopping over the railing, but the guy is still standing as close as he can get on the sidewalk.

Your grin spreads slowly as you get up off your little bench and lean over the balcony railing to get a closer look at his little potted plant. “It’s cute!” you call back to him.

He beams, impossibly pleased with himself. “It’s not as impressive as yours!” he gestures at the foliage flowing over the railings and the hanging baskets.

“Everyone has to start somewhere!”

He laughs at that, his nose scrunching up just a little, and then waves at you again before setting off down the street. You watch him go until he disappears from sight, then return to your bench to continue reading. You’re so distracted by that whole little episode that it takes a few minutes for you to realise that your book is upside down.

It was such a short exchange, but after nothing but smiles and waves from afar for so long it leaves you a little dazed. You could kick yourself for not asking what his name was, but you just hadn’t had the time. Besides, you had been a little dazzled by his smile.

The man’s name is Kirishima Eijirou. Since the first day he spoke to you, you’ve bumped into him at the local supermarket several times. He’s friendly, sometimes overwhelmingly so, and really kind. He’s the perfect package wrapped up in the body of a professional cage fighter, so it’s probably inevitable that you develop a big fat crush on him. The two of you have only really exchanged basic pleasantries and small talk, but it’s enough to have your pulse skipping everytime he smiles at you.

The local flower shop is beautifully vibrant compared to the gunmetal grey skies outside, and the quiet warmth of the place makes it one of your favourite places to spend your days off. Hanging baskets full of seasonal flowers and trailing ivy are suspended from the ceiling and from high shelves, and leafy green plants create a jungle-like atmosphere within the shop. The effect is delightfully mismatched, with enormous bouquets of flowers brightening up the spaces along the walls. The high shelves and boundless foliage makes the whole place feel like a maze; you could happily lose yourself for hours upon hours within the humid little aisles.

You trace your fingers along the large waxy leaves of a monstera plant, enjoying the smooth texture. A bell tinkles overhead as the door to the shop opens and shuts, momentarily breaking the soothing blanket of quiet. You contemplate the price tag on the monstera plant; you already have one, and if you buy another you’ll be pretty hard pressed to find space for it. It is really cute though, and you’re pretty sure that if you move your ficus a little more into the left corner of your balcony you can make enough space for it.

Your thought process is broken by a noise from the top of the aisle, and you glance up to meet the gaze of a surprised yet familiar man.. “Oh! Kirishima-san.” you say at the same time as he blurts “Hi!”

Before you can say anything else, his face splits into a smile. “Aw man, I can’t believe you’re here! This is perfect!”

You laugh a little nervously. “Huh?”

“I was hoping to get a new plant for my office! Could you help me pick one out?”

“Oh.” you blink, a little overwhelmed by his exuberance and the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, “I don’t work here.”

He laughs like you’ve just told a really funny joke, and moves to meet you in the middle of the aisle. “Yeah, I know. I’m just guessing that you know your stuff about plants -- your balcony is so awesome.”

“Oh.” you say again, straightening a little despite yourself. You feel ridiculously pleased, probably more than such a simple comment warrants. “Thank you. I worked hard on it.”

“It really shows!” he enthuses. “It actually inspired me to spruce up my office a bit, actually!”

“Really?” you ask, leaning back against one of the shelves. A frond-like leaf tickles the back of your neck, but you don’t bother swatting it away. You think that the two of you might be the only two customers in the shop at this time, and your conversation seems so loud in the relative silence. Somewhere near the back an electric fan buzzes, the noise breaking up the monotonous quiet so it doesn’t seem quite so oppressive. 

“Yeah! So, will you give me a hand?” he tilts his head as he asks, and you realise that his shoulders have dropped down, as if he’s trying to make himself appear smaller. “My friend thinks it’s stupid, but I’m determined to have the nicest desk in the whole building!”

You smile despite yourself, his good humour infectious. “Yeah, okay. Are you looking for something in particular?”

Kirishima steps back and regards the surrounding display cases thoughtfully. “Um. Honestly, I don’t know much about plants. I have my little cactus, but it’d be nice to get it a friend, right? I’m happy to go with whatever you think is best!”

You hum, considering your options. If it’s a small office desk he’s hoping to decorate, you suppose a couple of small succulents could do a nice job of adding a bit of life and colour. “I’m sure we can find something.”

“I’ll leave myself in your capable hands, then.” Kirishima says with a grin, inclining his head a little.

You step further into the shop, ducking under a trailing strand of ivy leaves. The dark hardwood floor creaks as you move, with Kirishima following close behind you. When you pause to gaze at a couple of potted plants on one the shelves you keep your gaze cast down, but glance up through your eyelashes to look at Kirishima. You’re surprised to find him already watching you, like he’s drinking in every move you make. The attention is a little overwhelming, but it’s also exciting. His gaze on you is like a physical weight, and you can’t quite help the coy smile that curves over your face. You know you’re not imagining the soft, heated interest behind his eyes; he’s not exactly being subtle.

You duck into a parallel aisle, just fast enough that Kirishima stumbles for half a step at the sudden change in direction. You hum quietly to yourself, and toss a playful smile over your shoulder as he follows behind you. He meets your smile with another grin, bright and handsome. He doesn’t look away from you for a second.

You come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the aisle and turn to face him. The sudden movement takes him by surprise, but he manages to catch himself before he barrels into you. It’s probably not entirely intentional, but he ends up standing so close that you can almost count the delicate little freckles splashed across the bridge of his nose from the summer sun. His head dips down towards you, leaning into your space in a way that is decidedly more than just casually friendly. His lips part, but before he can speak you ask, “What about this one?”

His gaze drops down to the space between you, where you’re holding up a small plant with waxy little leaves. He blinks at it, and then recovers gracefully. “Hey, that one is pretty cute.”

“‘Pretty cute’s not quite good enough, though, is it?” You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin. “If you want the nicest desk in the whole building, you need better than ‘pretty cute’, right?”

If anything, Kirishima’s smile grows even wider. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You up for the challenge of finding me the best plant in the store?” He steps closer as he speaks, until there’s nothing but a scant few inches and the potted plant between you.

You make a show of considering the challenge, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Hold this for me?” you ask suddenly, practically shoving the plant into his hands.

Kirishima takes it, startled, and in the moment of distraction you turn on your heel and dart down the aisle, disappearing down another row of shelves. You’ve barely turned the corner when you hear a deep, rumbling chuckle followed by quick footsteps against the hardwood floor as he follows after you.

It’s like a game. You wind your way through the aisles, skipping over vines and stray pots, and Kirishima tries to catch up. You know this shop like the back of your hand (you’re in here nearly every single weekend), but Kirishima is fast and agile despite his large stature. There are a few close calls, where you just manage to round the corner of a new aisle before Kirishima can reach you, and each one makes your breath catch in your chest when Kirishima’s delighted laughter rings out through the shop.

You can’t help the grin that stretches across your face as you turn into another half-hidden aisle, ducking under a large fan-like leaf that stretched out and drooped low. Only a moment later you hear a soft slap and an “Oof!” as Kirishima presumably runs straight into it, and you laugh quietly to yourself as you slip in between a row of glass display cases.

A clatter and a soft curse sounds from one aisle over, and you guess that Kirishima just accidentally knocked a pot over. You pad softly to the end of the aisle, taking a moment to try and catch your breath and stifle your wild grin. It’s so childish, playing a game of chase in a garden shop with a man you barely know, but you’re having so much fun.

You poke your head cautiously around the edge of one of the display shelves, biting your lip and listening carefully for any sign of Kirishima. The only noise you can hear is the strained mechanical whirring of the fan from somewhere near the back of the shop, so you edge forward. You’ve only managed to take two steps before you feel a presence behind you.

“Gotcha.” Kirishima rumbles, right by your ear.

The noise that’s punched out of your chest is embarrassing, a weird cross between a yelp and a laugh. You whirl on the ball of your feet to face him, only for him to keep stepping closer. You have no choice but to retreat, until you’re backed up into a little alcove between two large glass display cases overflowing with luscious green ferns. Kirishima advances until he’s as close as he can be without actually touching you, and maybe you should feel a little intimidated by this man that’s built like a brick wall of pure muscle but his smile is so delighted and soft that you don’t think you could be afraid of him if you tried.

“You got me.” You agree, a little breathlessly. You don’t know if it’s from the exertion of running through the shop like a child or from the thrill of Kirishima’s closeness to you, but your heart is thrumming like a wild thing in your chest.

From this close, you can see the way Kirishima’s hair is sweat-damp on his brow and curling just slightly; it must be from the humidity inside the shop, because he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit affected by the physical activity of chasing after you. “You’re fast.” he says, his voice quiet as if afraid to break the atmospheric stillness within the shop.

“Yeah?” you mimic his volume subconsciously, “You sure you don’t just like chasing me? I think you could have caught me earlier, if you wanted.”

Kirishima laughs, and the skin around his eyes crinkle up in the most adorable way you’ve ever seen. “Maybe.” he says, and it sounds like a secret. His teeth are white and sharp and his cheeks dimple when he smiles. You’re distracted by the dimples, so when he raises his hand you barely notice until suddenly there’s a flower right under your nose and your eyes nearly cross in your attempt to look at it. 

“It’s pretty.” You say with a smile. It’s a simple white cosmo flower, though Kirishima is beaming as though he’d managed to find a particularly rare gem, and you don’t get a chance to take it from him before he tucks it neatly behind your ear.

“It’s like you.” He says. The words are flirtatious, but he delivers them so earnestly that you don’t quite know how to react.

“How about a potted ivy?” you blurt, at a loss for anything else to say. “It would be easy to take care of, and it looks good.”

Kirishima blinks, but takes the change of subject in stride. “Is that your professional recommendation?”

“Mhmm.” It’s hard to focus when he’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across your skin every time he speaks. You’re sure he must be picking up on how flustered he’s making you -- you’re not convinced by the innocent expression on his face. “Maybe a few succulents, too.”

Kirishima nods thoughtfully, consideringly. “Hmmm. That sounds good to me. Will you go out to dinner with me?”

It’s such a non-sequitur that it takes your brain a long moment to register his words. “I- huh?” 

His dimpled smile turns bashful and a little self-conscious. “Ah. Sorry, that might have been a little forward.” He scratches the back of his head, and your gaze is drawn to the way his bicep bulges at the movement. “I was wondering if you’d like to get some dinner with me? I know a place that does some really great burrito bowls.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Kirishima-san?” Your words come out soft and quiet and effortlessly flirtatious -- you hadn’t intended on sounding so seductive, but you can’t help but enjoy the way Kirishima leans in closer to you.

“Yeah. No pressure if you don’t wanna, of course!” He’s quick to reassure you, “It’s totally fine if you’re not interested. I just wanted to let you know that I am very interested.”

As refreshing as his straight-forwardness is, you can’t help but feel surprised. This man is very much out of your league, you’re not blind, and yet he had been the one to approach you, and had indulged in your silly game of chase around the shop, and had playfully cornered you in an alcove and asked you out. You’ve met him enough by now to know he’s kind, friendly, and eager to help with just about anything you ask. Plus, he’s practically built like a Greek god, with a handsome face and the most stacked muscles you’ve ever seen in person.

“I’m interested.” you breathe, heart hammering in your chest. God, you really hoped this wasn’t some kind of elaborate joke. 

Kirishima seems to actually inflate at that, a bright smile blooming across his face as his shoulders straighten. “Really? Great! Awesome! Tonight?”

“Sure.” you agree, returning his smile. Your heart rate still hasn’t returned to normal from your chase around the shop; if anything, it feels like it’s pounding harder than ever. “I’m free tonight.”

“Great!” Kirishima says again. He seems more excited than you would have expected, which is honestly pretty flattering since you’re pretty sure you’re the one that should be feeling the most excited in this situation. “I have to go back to work since I’m technically on my lunch break right now, but I could pick you up at your apartment at around eight tonight?”

“Eight is perfect.” you straighten the flower behind your ear and smile up at him, letting your own excitement shine through on your face.

Kirishima steps back, finally giving you some space. You forcefully resist the urge to follow after him, watching instead as he backs away, still beaming. “Okay. Okay, cool. So, I’ll see you tonight?”

You let him go a few more steps before tilting your head and asking, “So, you changed your mind about the plants?”

He pauses, one foot raised mid-step like a cartoon character. “Plan-?” he starts, before his eyes go comically wide, “Oh! The plants! Right!”

You laugh, finding him stupidly endearing, before stepping out of the little alcove and setting off down one of the aisles to the left. There’s a whole section of the shop dedicated solely to the house plants, and it’s not difficult to find a suitable ivy plant with light green leaves and tumbling vines. Kirishima takes the potted plant when you hand it to him, and trails after you again as you go in search of the succulents. When you’ve found some suitable little plants, you help him carry them up to the counter with the cash register. There’s no one manning the register (and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief at that, because it means that no one saw the two of you running through the shop like idiots), and you ring the little bell to notify the employees that you’re at the counter. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” you say, stepping away from the counter as an employee finally emerges from the back of the shop. “See you tonight?”

Kirishima fumbles with the plants in his hands as he tries to wave. “Tonight! Yeah!”

The bell tinkles as you duck out the shop door, biting your lip to try and stifle your excited grin.

//

You look in the mirror yet again, tugging nervously at your clothes. You look pretty good, you think, but the closer it gets to eight the more nervous you get. You realised too late that you never exchanged phone numbers, and Kirishima doesn’t know which number apartment to buzz from the front door. You focus on staying calm and not overthinking things; it’s just a date, with the most handsome man you’ve ever actually spoken to. No big deal. It’s fine.

You tug on your shirt again, even though it’s sitting pretty much perfectly. You just lean forward to check your teeth when a crash sounds from your balcony. You jerk towards the crash automatically, and race out to open the doors to the balcony. You’re greeted with the sight of Kirishima with one leg over the balcony railing, staring dismally down at the shattered pot that he apparently just knocked over.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurts as soon as he sees you, “It was an accident! I didn’t know your apartment number to buzz the door and so I thought I’d just knock on the door to your balcony but I didn’t see the pot and- wow, you look really good!”

You wave away his frantic apologies with a laugh as you step over the spilled dirt. “Don’t worry about it. You look pretty good, too.” Your eyes drop to where he’s hiding his hands behind his back. “What have you got there?”

Kirishima hikes his other leg over the railing and drops to his feet, before pulling his arms out from behind him and revealing a large bouquet of beautiful white and pink lilies. “I got these for you.” he says, a pink blush dusted over his cheekbones. “I know you, uh, like flowers and plants and things. I don’t know much about them, but I thought they were pretty!”

Your whole face softens, and you reach out to take the bouquet. They are pretty, with delicate pink-streaked white petals and long, dainty stems. Pollen drops from them at every movement, sprinkling into the air in delicate yellow puffs. “They’re beautiful! Thank you.”

When you glance up at him you find that his attention is caught by the side of your head, his own smile softening. “You kept it?”

You touch the cosmo flower still tucked behind your ear, a little embarrassed. It had seemed like a cute idea to keep it and wear it for the date, but now you wonder if it’s a little weird. “Yeah. Like you said, it’s pretty, right?”

“Yeah.” he agrees. His gentle pink blush has intensified into a deep red. “Very pretty.”

You look back down at your lilies, still smiling. You feel so pleased, like all your nerves are being melted away only to be replaced by excited anticipation. “Your office must be really close by if you had the time to grab these before getting here.”

“It’s right around the corner,” he points towards the end of the street, “But, uh. My boss actually let me go early today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I, uh-” His blush, impossibly, seems to intensify further. “I’ve been talking about you for a while, I guess. Telling people about your awesome balcony and stuff, and how nice you are whenever I meet you. I didn’t actually realise how much I mentioned you, but, uh, when I told Fat that I had asked you out, he pretty much told me to get outta there and come straight to get you.” 

You laugh, pleasantly embarrassed yourself. “Wow. That’s… that’s really sweet.” A thought intrudes on the back of your mind, suddenly, and you frown a little. He said his boss's name was Fat? Office around the corner? “Wait. You work at Fat Gum’s Hero Agency?”

“Yep!” He flexes one of his biceps playfully; you’re pretty sure it’s bigger than your head. “I’m a sidekick there! ”

“Wow.” you say, gaze stuck on his muscled arm. “That- well. That explains- I mean, you have a very nice body.” Oh god, you think, cursing yourself. Why had you said that?

Kirishima flushes from the roots of his hair to his chest. You can’t help but grin, his bashfulness impossibly charming. “Oh! Thanks! I work out a lot.” he chuckles, shrugging as if it’s nothing.

You’re still grinning as you look at his rosy face, your eyes dropping to his red-flushed chest. His very red-flushed chest. “Uh.” you glance to his neck, where the skin is an angry crimson colour. “Kirishima-san?”

“Yeah?” The sun is dropping low in the sky, and the golden sunset throws buttery yellow-toned light all over your balcony. It lights up Kirishima’s profile in warm relief, and makes you wonder if you’re maybe imagining the colour you’re seeing.

“Are you okay? You have- I think you have a rash?”

“Huh?” He drops his chin to his sternum, trying to get a look at what you’re seeing. When he tugs his shirt down, it reveals angry red lines streaking down his chest. “Oh. Yikes.”

Your mouth drops open. “That.. looks painful.”

“It’s more itchy, really.” He admits, poking at the patch of ruddy skin. His head snaps up, eyes wide, and he quickly adds, “This doesn’t usually happen! I don’t usually have, uh, whatever this is!”

That definitely isn’t as comforting as he’s clearly hoping it will be. “Um. Kirishima, do you feel weird right now?”

“A little? I think I’m just nervous for our date, though.” He shifts on his feet and reaches up to scratch at his throat. “Just a little itchy. My throat feels a bit weird. I think it’s nerves.”

The angry red rash climbing up his chest and throat suggests that it’s not just nerves. “Does your throat feel… swollen?”

“Kinda?” 

Your gaze drops to the flowers in your arms. The breeze shakes loose another little cloud of pollen from them, which floats into the air in a little puff of yellow dust. “Did this start after you got the flowers?”

“I guess!” Kirishima says, clearly not following.

“Oh.” You stare at each other. Kirishima still hasn’t quite caught on to the logical conclusion of these questions. Now that you’re looking at him closely, you’re pretty sure his face looks a little puffier than usual. “I think you’re having an allergic reaction.”

Kirishima blinks, then looks to the flowers in your arms. His hand scratches idly at the base of his throat, which is now a raw and angry red. “Oh. Oh, I see. Huh.” You might be imagining it, but his voice sounds a little thicker now.

“I think we should go to the hospital.” You set down the lilies on your garden bench and usher him into your apartment. You haven’t had time to tidy up, but you’re past the point of caring about cleanliness. Kirishima doesn’t seem to notice anyway, as his face has fallen.

“What about dinner?” He asks, obviously disappointed, and yep, his voice has definitely gotten thicker. It sounds like his throat is swelling.

You try not to panic. “We can get food after the hospital!”

Kirishima actually has the nerve to pause and think about it. “Are you sure? I don’t feel that bad, and I really want to take you somewhere nice.”

It’s hard not to feel flattered at that. “I really appreciate that, Kirishima. I would feel a lot better if we got you checked out before dinner, though. I think the date would go better if you weren’t on the brink of anaphylactic shock.”

Kirishima concedes at that, and lets you call a taxi. As you stand on the sidewalk waiting for the taxi to arrive, he sighs and tilts his head. “This is embarrassing. I can’t believe I finally ask you out only for it to be ruined by some stupid flowers.”

“Hey,” you bump him with your hip, but it’s like hip-checking a boulder. You wince and rub at your hip bone as you say, “The flowers were beautiful, and a really lovely thought. Plus, I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while now. One little bump in the road isn’t gonna chase me away, okay?”

“Really?”

You tug him over so you can press a chaste, tentative kiss to his cheek. “Really.”

“I’m gonna make sure when this is over that I bring you on the most unforgettable date ever!” In the light of the setting sun, Kirishima is lit up golden. He grins, gilded and bright, and even with his puffy face and swollen throat, you think he might just be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

“I think that you’ve already accomplished that.” you say delicately as you spot your taxi rounding the corner of the street, “Maybe our next date should be a little more uneventful.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima laughs, sounding like his throat is full of cotton balls, “Maybe uneventful is best. But you basically just agreed to go on another date with me, right?”

You suppose you have to be impressed by his determination, if nothing else. You’re not used to being the focus of someone’s attention like this, especially not someone on the brink of a medical emergency. It’s… flattering. “Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe next time we should leave the flowers, though.”

“No flowers.” Kirishima agrees, then chuckles. 

You think his swollen, puffy smile might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

[sisterofleatherfrog]

Star Wars Kinktober day- 3

Prompt: Under-clothes bondage 

Fives x Sub! OC (AFAB)

Orla is another one of my OC’s that I sometimes play around with in my fandom daydreams. She’s very tall (think around 6’10), and her appearance is non-human (I’ll definitely have to elaborate on that in art form later), and she is Five’s big-titty goth gf. She has some self-confidence/worth issues, but Fives is literally so goddamn smitten. 

Some art as a sorry for missing day 4!

Tags: Bondage, collar, bf chooses gf’s clothes and dresses her, pre negotiated kink, safewords, cunnilingus, dirty talk, daddy kink

Words: 2440

🖤💜🖤

“Fives? Do- do you, could you help me?” Orla asked, a tremble present in her voice. They’d planned this outing the previous week, going out to a beer garden to have lunch and meet with a few of Five’s brothers and their significant others. She’d made friends with a few of the troopers and their partners and was definitely looking forward to having a few drinks with them. That wasn’t all though, after confirming the date and time Orla had got to thinking. They’d been playing around with a lot of things recently in the bedroom; the collection of ropes, binders, among other things in their special little place was a testament to that. They had yet to try and bring it out of the bedroom, but it had been teasing Orla’s mind all week, and maybe…

Footsteps came up to the ajar bedroom door and it swung as it opened, her lover’s head peaked in. “What’s the matter Meshla? The dress zipper stu-” Fives abruptly stopped as he saw her, kneeling nude in the middle of the bedroom with a several meter length of red rope before her. The door lightly knocked the wall as he came fully into the room and looked down at her from a few paces with no little interest in his eyes. “What’s all this then,?”

He didn’t sound like he was upset in any way and Orla felt confident in explaining: “Well, remember us speaking of trying more adventurous things?” Fives nodded, eyes shining with that impish edge she knew so well as they roved her lush body. She bit her lip, “I must confess I’ve been thinking more on it since these plans were made, and maybe… Could you tie me up, daddy? I want to be your good little slut wherever we go together.” She lowered her head, but still her eyes stayed on Fives where he looked down on her. 

For a moment he was quiet, seemingly stunned as everything, her nudity, the use of THAT word, and the begging all came together to short-circuit his mind. Before she could start to regret her decision though, he drew in a shaky breath and drew a hand down his face until the wide grin on his face was revealed to her. He shifted his weight, the movement catching her eye and bringing it down to his crotch where he was beginning to stir. “Shit meshla,” he breathed. “Do you mean it? Do you really want to do this with me?”

Orla nodded, a desperation that surprised her causing heat to lick throughout her abdomen and fill her head. Fives came and knelt before her, now looking up to her dark eyes, partially shadowed by her coal black hair. “I need your words Orla, I need to know you really want this and aren’t doing something just to please me. Maker, do I want you like this, but not at the expense of you being miserable.” The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing one perfect dimple. “I want this to be good for you too.” 

A different warmth suffused her, she knew he loved her, and the amount of care he always gave her made her feel like a princess. Leaning her head down into a keldabe with him, she smiled before moving her lips to brush over his tattoo and down to his ear. “I want this, daddy, I truly do. I want to be extra good for you.” Orla punctuated her words by sliding a hand over his thigh and up to cup the bulge at his crotch. Fives groaned and grabbed the both of her wrists to stop her hands from wandering any further.

“You win this one, and you’re the best girlfriend ever!” He punctuated his sentence with a quick smooch before dragging her to stand with him. “Turn around meshla and lift your hair, let's see about getting you into this.” He started by placing the rope around the back of her neck, making sure that even halves were on either side of her neck and going down her front. Coming around he gently but confidently gripped it, already knowing the alignment of loops and knots he had to do. Within the valley between her breasts he made one knot and left a kiss on her left breast, below he made another and gave her right breast the same treatment. Just above her belly button he made one more knot, then dropped to his knees and started to trail kisses down from there, taking a moment to dip his tongue into her belly button and making Orla giggle, before he went lower and transformed it into a gasp. Five’s tongue followed the curve of her lower abdomen, trailed along her upper thigh, before he pulled back, his right hand taking its place before moving in and parting her labia with two strong, skilled fingers. 

Fives looked into her intently, studying the configuration of sensitive flesh at her apex for a moment before coming forward to kiss her lips, making out with her slit as his tongue made love to her clit. She gasped down at him, hand coming to clutch at his shoulders and the top of his head, whatever she could reach to steady herself. He was- “Oh, Fives, right there love!” He moved deeper into her heat if that was even possible, both hands having moved to her ass cheeks to pull her closer. His lips were locked around her clit, alternating and simultaneously sucking and licking with that tongue of his, that said such alternatingly inflammatory and jesting words, skilled and silver now on her. Often he would move, delve into her, kiss along her thighs and tease, build her up to a wholly satisfying end. This was something else though, a hunger both desperate and wild, focused on one goal alone, tracing along that lone and narrow path with a single minded purpose. He went on, groaning into her and holding her still as she shivered writhed, her size making no difference in his ability to hold her right where he wanted with his strength. 

Orla’s breath was escaping her in gasps and high whines, keening her need to him and she was drawn further and further up that path by him, his desperation infecting her as well. Oh he wasn’t taking his time at all, but she was adoring this direct and needy side to him. Her legs were turning to rubber and Five’s hands slid into the curve below her ass to hold her even more firmly, surely leaving marks that would be seen there later. He kept licking and laving, latched on so firmly it was as if he was feeding from her all the while she fed off the pleasure she got from him, creating a self-sustaining organism in a perpetual state of bliss and ecstasy. She felt him tying a new knot and keened into the otherwise quiet air of the room, her head tilting back and chest arching as she felt it winding ever tighter within her womb. Tighter and tighter, lick by suck, she was on the edge and just had to stretch a little further-

With a wild cry she fell, the knot unwound with a blinding intensity and she shook as her cunt clenched over nothing again and again. Fives kept at her throughout her orgasm, firmly pressing his tongue to her as she danced against it in order to carry her down. When she was passing pleasure and entering into the territory of too much, Orla put a hand on his head and gently urged it away from her and he released with an obscene pop sound. He gazed up at her, eyebrows drawn down into an expression of yearning and his eyes shining as bright as her slick on his chin. The sight was enough to draw an honest whimper from her.

“There, there meshla, you’re alright,” he cooed, now rubbing her legs and sides in order to sooth her. “You did so well, coming for me like that all wet and sweet. I was so happy when you told me how much you wanted to try something public that I just couldn’t help myself. I love you so, so much my beautiful Orla. ‘Want you to always feel good.” He rambled against her lower stomach as he rested his forehead there, praise spilling out of him like water from a too full cup. They stayed like that for a little while until she felt like she had more control over her body, the shivering and shaking dying down with her leveling breath. Finally he lifted himself and stood, hands coming to rest against her lower back as he delicately pressed her to him. “Are you good? I didn’t mean to be too much, especially before we got somewhere to be.”

Orla smiled widely, “It wasn’t too much Fives, in fact it was very much appreciated.”

He smiled back, “Well that’s good, I’d hate to have to tell the boys we had to cancel because the pussy was just too good.”

She snorted, “Oh I’m sure you would, lover.” Suddenly feeling a little shy, she continued, “Now, can you please help me finish getting ready? I don’t think I can do all these knots and twists myself.”

He reached up to cup her cheek and draw her down for a quick kiss, “Oh meshla I’d be more than happy to assist. Though, after that, and this being your first time trying this, how about we put some panties on you so the rope won’t rub as much?” 

This man- “What pair should I wear then daddy?” always so considerate of her. 

His grin was downright feral as he looked at her before taking her hand and leading her over to her wardrobe and pulling out the proper drawer, said drawer full of a rainbow of lace, cotton, satin, and mesh. Orla loved fun panties and Fives took full advantage of that, loving whenever she would ask him to choose for her so that he could picture what lay under her clothes all day. She was partial to a few pairs, but he most always chose the pair he plucked from the bunch now, a royal and baby blue number dyed in a marble pattern with ‘Want some?’ written across the ass in aurebesh. He ducked down and she again steadied herself with his shoulders as he now lifted each of her legs to fit into the slip of fabric, before drawing them up to her hips and smoothing the hems.

Then, after checking with her once again, he returned to the previously forgotten rope and from the last left knot, drew the tailings down to her apex. Twisting the ropes together some so that they’d sit between her labia, he drew them between her spread legs and went to her back to draw it up to the initial loop at the back of her neck. Pulling so it was snug but not tight, he brought both halves to come out to her hands, “Hold onto these for me love.” She complied and he came back around the front of her, taking a moment to admire what he’d done already. “Oh, yeah, it’s all coming together.” Orla snorted and lightly slapped his chest, he raised an eyebrow, “Is that the sort of game you want to play right now?”

“Maybe later.” She teasingly promised and he grinned back at her, now looping the rope from under her arms and between the first and second knot, the rope turning back on each side to return behind her back the way it had come. He followed and looped each side around the lengths that ran up her spine before indicating she should hold the rope again. He did the same process between the second and third knot and around her back before bringing up what was left of the rope and tying it off on the third knot. He stepped back then, eyes roaming up and down the planes and curves of her body, now decorated with blue and tied off with red, like a present just for him. He looked for a long, long while.

“You know what to do if this gets to be too much and you want to stop, right?”

She nodded seriously, “Five taps to your thigh, or say ‘Zillo’.”

He smiled like the sun, “Now how are we going to cover all this up?”

“Oh I really don’t know daddy, maybe you could help me with that too?”

“Orla, I have no idea what I did to deserve you but I love you so much, and I mean that with my whole ass.” He confessed with all seriousness.

Laughing again, she pressed against him and leaned down to kiss his wonderful mouth. Breaking apart again they went to inspect her clothes hanging in the closet. He reached in and pulled out a black dress with a halter top and flowy skirt that would fall about halfway down her thighs. He grinned, “Feeling like being a little risky today as well by any chance?”

“Yes please my love!” Slipping it over her head, Fives did up the three clips that secured the neck. Leaving the last bit up to her, Orla found a top to layer over it to better obscure the bondage beneath, and finished it up with a traditional self-tying corset from her people, quickly done up by pulling the two cords to either side of her and tying them in front. Meanwhile, Fives had quickly gone to change his shirt and give his face a wipe, both having been soaked by her earlier. Returning in a casual purple button up with red stitching along the collar, he looked like a treasure to be found in her people’s queen's harem.

“Looking good lover.” She told him as she bent to pull on her boots, the three inch platforms bringing her height to a full foot above his own. 

“Quacta, stifling.” he simply responded. 

Walking towards the door he asked, “Are we all ready to go meshla?” he turned and she 

smiled shyly again, feeling a blush turning the purple shades in her skin darker.

“Maybe not quite?” she intoned, moving back to the closet she opened it and pushed aside a few of his shirts to reveal a certain rack of jewelry, consisting of leather collars, some with rings on them, others otherwise decorative. “Which one do you think I should wear out today, daddy?”

In the end, they were a little late getting to the beer gardens.

🖤💜🖤

Oh I really liked writing this one. I know so far all my works have been coming out early in the morning the day after they’re supposed to be posted but I am going to try and fix that! Like the Tup and Aurelie work on the 1st, I feel like this one may come back with a part 2 because I’m really vibing with these two (and I hope y’all are too just as much as I am). 

Kinktober works

Masterlist

[chocosweets]

Request filled for @subarublue 💞🧁

Can I request a short and sweet little fluffy one shot (or just headcanons if a one shot is too much) where maybe Dante (Devil May Cry 5) first begins to realize he’s putting on some weight and feels a little self conscious about it? But he tries to hide it and blow it off like it’s nothing? But Reader notices the weight and his insecurities and lets him know they find him attractive no matter what?

Word Count: 1,416

Dante/Reader, SFW

Tags: Established Relationship, Post-DMC5, DMC5 Spoilers, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Affection, Cuddling & Snuggling

Enjoy, Eclair 🍩

***

Squish, squish.

Dante inspected his reflection carefully in the yellowed bathroom mirror as he changed out of his bloodied shirt, fresh after a long job. He prodded his bare flesh and watched as it squished incessantly.

His brows knitted as he continued to test the buoyancy—to see if it actually jiggled. The part of his body in question laid at the bottom of his stomach, underneath his six pack. The smallest bit of flab rounded into a little pouch that was soft to the touch, not hard and well-built like the rest of his muscles.

It was barely noticeable (unless someone pointed it out or felt it carefully), and truthfully he himself hadn’t noticed for all these months—until he’d done a particularly elaborate jump while fighting today and his shirt had scrunched up oddly as he soared and landed. And, well, as Nero has so eloquently put it: Ha! Look at that, the old man’s finally gettin’ fucking chubby!

There had been the usual light-hearted quips thrown back at his nephew, but when he got home he thought he ought to check it out for himself. The last row of his abs was beginning to fade into soft fat, and when he exhaled, the fat at his lower stomach hung over in a small curve below his belly button, brushing against the cool metal of his belt buckle lightly. There was a good portion of it that he could grab with his palm laying against the skin. He groaned a little to himself. Didn't his demonic metabolism usually prevent this sort of thing, as it had for the better part of thirty years?

What a pain. Dante pooled the weak faucet water in his hands and splashed the cool water onto his face. Maybe the kid had been right—and maybe he should lay off the pizza until that bump in his clothes stopped being visible.

------

For the seventh day in a row, you had stopped by the office without seeing any new pizza boxes strewn around the floor.

In fact, it wasn't only that, because you could've easily chalked it up to Lady or Trish—or quite possibly even Vergil, since he almost technically lived at Devil may Cry nowadays—forcing Dante to clean up his filth after the piles and odor had gotten unbearable. Except, it had also been seven days without interrupting him during a meal, or seeing him order any, or of you even smelling the aftermath of the steamy delicacy that still lingered in the air. You had only seen him eat sandwiches for lunch or snack on potato chips during the day, and occasionally pour himself bowls of cereal when you two watched TV late into the night.

Something was definitely up, but what it was, you didn't know. His behavior was mostly the same otherwise and he hadn't been drinking lately either, so you knew he hadn't slipped into another depressive episode or anything similar to that. You were thankful for that, at least, but the fact that he'd been abstaining from his precious pizza and declining all your offers of going out for an ice cream date for a whole week was certainly suspicious.

"Hey, baby." Dante sat up further in his chair when he saw you enter. That same cute smile of his was on his face, but he didn't look as peppy and carefree as usual. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Still, you grinned back and waved as you walked toward him. "Nothing much—except for visiting this sexy demon hunter I know."

"Oh yeah?" he goaded back playfully, shifting to face you in his seat as you made your way onto his side of the desk. "Have I met him before?"

"Don't think so," you huffed out between a laugh, and as you said it Dante brought himself up and closer to you—pulling you down into a quick kiss before sitting back down.

You looked around the place nonchalantly as you pulled a chair up for yourself in front of the desk, noting the lack of boxes again. A typical cola and magazine laid on his desktop, but there were still no stray slices of pizza or empty sundae glasses.

When you settled down in your seat, you cleared your throat, and he looked at you expectantly. "So, I guess you haven't had dinner yet? We should order some pizza and eat it over a movie."

Straight to the point, not wasting any time.

You swore he bit his bottom lip guiltily at the mention of his favorite food, and that his eyes lit up brighter than stars. He opened his mouth, though, about to respond, when—his stomach grumbled accordingly, as if pleading for some delicious, gooey pizza, making his eyes widen a fraction in embarrassment.

He laughed awkwardly. "Jeez, is it that obvious?"

"Dante." You gave him a knowing, but gentle look, and he groaned, as if realizing then that there was no point in denying it.

"Fine, I'll fess up." A sigh came out, and then he leaned forward on his desk. "I've just been dieting a little. It's no big deal."

"Dieting?" Your eyebrows creased more in concern than confusion.

"Yeah, aren't you proud of little ol' me? You're always saying I eat too much junk food." But then your brow raised at the obviously poor excuse, knowing that just your nagging alone wouldn't be enough to stop him from indulging. You stared further—and he relented with a sigh. "And, well— Figured it wouldn't look very good to clients if I was too...chubby."

That was putting it lightly, considering that even though he'd quit the pizza and ice cream, he was still devouring just as much food in a day. You could spot the beginning of a squishy-firm beer belly under his clothes when he leaned over and pressed into it like this. Dante picked up his can of soda to sip so he could avoid your gaze.

"That's all?" you asked, careful not to be too accusatory. There was an even more underlying reason here. He would tell you in time when he was ready, and you didn't want to push him too far at once. You reached over, still, and put your hand on his free one. (It made him tense up a little.)

"Yes," he insisted with his voice in a quick hiss. "What's wrong with me trying to slim down a little? I'm gettin' old, you know."

"Th-There's nothing wrong with it!" Damn, this seemed like a touchy subject to approach. So, you pulled out your most convincing voice. "And, well—to be honest, I didn't think you had put on all that much weight."

"Really? You don't think so?" He said it in a sarcastic deadpan, patting his soft lower belly for emphasis and leaning back into his chair. There, you were at least finally getting closer to his real feelings. You stood up and went back to his side of the desk, crouching to eye-level. You looked at him sweetly with a smile, and he seemed to melt. Dante crossed his arms over his chest and looked away almost bashfully when he said, "...Didn't think you'd like me letting myself go and all."

"Awww, don't be all pouty~" You leaned forward to pull him into a hug, holding him close. Your chest pressed to his, and you nuzzled his face with your cheek. "I don't mind if you're nice and soft, really. You're still handsome." He mumbled something under his breath, and you giggled again. "...And you're just too cute when you're pouty like this."

That got a little chuckle out of him, and he pressed a kiss to your neck. "I get it, I get it. No more grumpy Dante tonight, I promise." He relaxed with a sigh and ran his fingers through your hair. It was quiet for a moment. "But you meant all that?"

"Of course! Whether you're a little chubby, or in your devil form, or anything—you're still my Dante no matter what."

The man in question seemed to consider that, and then he shifted to embrace you back fully, nearly crushing you with his heavy grip. "Huh… That's pretty wholesome, babe."

You couldn't help but lift your head up and kiss his cheek as you giggled. "So, pizza?"

"Only if you let me take you on that ice cream date you've been wanting."

"Deal."

You held your hand out, and Dante shook it with gusto.

[sitlalann]

30 days - Nett

Day 7: Halloween

Pd: the parts of this series don’t follow an order, so it don’t matter if you haven’t read the others

tags(?: a little underage drinking, mention of anxiety and panic attacks but is kinda cute i promise

Happy reading! or on AO3

---

“You had enough, give me that,” said Brett taking the beer from Nolan’s hands

“You are not fun, Mr. I’m too cool to wear a costume to a Halloween party”

Before making their way to Devenford to say Halloween party, and after Liam getting mad because Jack, Brett, and his old classmate didn’t invite him to the party and accusing Nolan of betrayal and fraternized with the enemy – “Don’t say fraternized it sounds weird” “Well that’s what are you doing Nolan” – Nolan was exited for his election of going like Jack Frost to the party, it’s one of his favorite movies but Brett didn’t seem that excited to pick what he was wearing.

Nolan felt that carry the stick for his Jack Frost costume was too much, and he confirmed when Brett came to pick him up with his old Devenford team jacked only with his beta gold eyes and fangs out.

“I came as a werewolf, love” the expression on Brett's face had writing pure satisfaction to contrary Nolan’s annoyed one

“No, you are a werewolf, that’s not a costume that’s just you,” said Nolan while gesturing Brett whole self “I feel so out of place and you just make it worst by being a handsome werewolf it’s just unfair” no, Nolan wasn’t putting he was just pursing hid lips

Brett was amused by the situation pilling Nolan by his side with an arm around his shoulder pecking his lips

“You make an incredible Jack Frost, that dude could never look like this” Nolan chuckle and push the taller away “shut up” Brett barely moved from his position “I had this feeling that you were the whinny type of drunk”

“Yeah sure, because two sips of a beer are enough to make someone drunk” the house was kind of packed so that was reason enough for Nolan to stand directly in front of his boyfriend “Alcohol doesn’t affect faster short people?”

“You are only 10 cm taller than me, Talbot” Nolan was about to roll his eyes when he saw the other expression “Talbot, huh?” the snicker that leaves Nolan only make Brett snort

“Well, that’s what you get for wearing a lame disguise”

“Hey Talbot!” both turn around to see a guy walking towards them “How are you dude? Haven’t seen you since you transferred to Beacon Hills!” the guy said when he reaches their side Nolan guess this was Jack, a little tipsy Jack

“Yeah, I wanted to come around, but I didn’t know how you guys will take it”

“You kidding? We don’t care you play for Beacon, I mean some guys do but I don’t think they will tell you that”

Brett chuckled “I’ll keep that in mind. This is Nolan, he is the co-captain of my team and my boyfriend”

“Hi, Jack, right?” he gives the other guy a little smile “Yeah, actually Brett has talked about you, so how long it took you to make this asshole settle?” Jack had the biggest grind in his mouth and Brett lost the little smile he had

“It wasn’t like that” maybe Nolan will take this opportunity to tease Brett a little bit “He was the one pinning after me” Jack’s laughter filled the room “No way!” he said and right after stars to laugh again

“Okay, okay, it wasn’t exactly like that”

“I don’t believe you Talbot, last time we talk you said ´you know Liam is a good captain´ and if I don’t remember bad you were the one who always bothers him”

“Oh my God, wait until a tell the guys this, they won’t let you live” Nolan was more than happy to learn this new information

“Jack hurry up!” Jack turns around to see the girl calling him “Oop! That’s my call to go, great to see you guys, enjoy the party!”

“So, Liam is a good co-captain?” Brett wanted to erase the shit-eating grind that Nolan had on his face

So Brett made the most reasonable and mature decision to avoid being tease: annoy his boyfriend.

“You don’t know what you hear baby, you are drunk, I think is better if we go home now?” Brett even manages to look, and sound concerned, the asshole “I just took two sips of that beer I’m not drunk” Nolan knew what the other was doing and he is not going to lose, he will tease his boyfriend.

“But please do tell me more about how amazing is Liam as a captain”

“Okay, first of all” he suddenly stops talking and takes his phone out of his jacket “it’s Theo,” said Brett looking down at Nolan with a frown he answers and puts the phone on his ear and Theo is speaking as soon as he picks up “What? Are you sure?” Nolan sees how the taller face transforms into a concerned one and after a moment says “Sure, see you there. Of course he is with me!” and hung up “We need to go” says taking Nolan hand and walking to the front door “Brett? What happened?” he asks knowing Brett could hear it over the music, but he didn’t get an answer nor a look, he only see the back of Brett's head.

Nolan let Brett guide them out of the house, giving out apologetic smiles to the people that were being pushed aside by Brett trying to get to the door as fast as he could.

Once they reach Brett’s car he lets him go and Nolan gets in the passenger seat, he barely manages to buckle up when Brett is driving down the street.

“Is Liam okay?” he asks and starts getting nervous because Brett starts looking to the mirrors “Yeah, everybody is okay don’t worry about that” he answers putting his right hand on the back of Nolan’s neck.

“Then what is going on?” he can feel his heart breathing a little bit harder, even when Brett stopped looking to the mirror “Your heart is betting fast” is all the answer he gets “That’s because I just got pull out from a party after your phone call with Theo and you are avoiding telling me what the hell is going on” he can see Brett uneasiness on his face when he quickly turns to see him

“I can’t tell you if your heart is beating like this, just- everybody is okay. Keep that in mind” that’s not a comforting answer and makes Nolan even more anxious, if everybody is okay and no one is dying then what is so urgent? “I got news for you; my heart will not slow down if you keep me in the dark about what is going on” maybe he shouldn’t get mad in a situation like this but his anxiety is increasing by every second

“I can’t-“ starts saying Brett but gets interrupted “Yes you can, just tell me what is it? Something happened in beacon hills? Oh no, is it Lori?” that last question makes his heart betting faster

“No! no, Lori is fine, it just- I’m scared, okay? I can’t tell you when you are already panicking, I’m afraid you’ll get a panic attack, and I will not be able to help you out of it because I need to get us to Liam house” Brett's hand was still at the back of his neck he forgot it was there until Brett starts rubbing his thumb “I don’t think not telling me is going to help me, I’ll- I’ll ground myself we been practicing that, please just tell me” Brett turn to see him, and Nolan could see how worried his boyfriend was, Nolan took the hand that was in his neck interlocking their fingers and placing it in his lap.

Brett let out a small sight “Argent heard about Monroe” he gives a quick look to Nolan before continuing “apparently she is looking for the hunters that used to be with her” Brett could hear Nolan’s heart picking up “But it could not be you, okay? Argent is not sure by who she is looking for, she had been a hunter even before she came here, maybe is not you baby” Brett took both Nolan’s hands with his own while the other was still on the wheel.

Nolan was on the verge of hyperventilation “Hey, listen to me” says Brett “Argent doesn’t believe it’s you either okay? Or any other kid from school” Nolan was nodding trying to ground himself, trying to name in his brain the things around himself, what he could hear and feel “okay” he said a little breathy.

Brett tightened his grip on the other hands “I won’t let anything happened to you, if someone comes for you, they have to get past me first, I promise you that. No one would hurt you, you have me now, you have the pack now. You’re not alone this time, love”

“I know” Nolan’s voice was thick for the emotions

“We’ll be fine” Brett’s voice has always been calming for him, he wanted to let Brett know that he loved him in case something happens but didn’t want to remember the first ‘I love you' like that, with him scared. He will tell him, soon.

---

Hope you like it:)

take care and stay safe<3

[achubbydumpling]

[unfinished] Good Boy Bucky (Part 2)

Ok... So, I set myself this self-imposed challenge of writing/posting something every day in July, mostly for Get Beached. Up until now that's worked out to a few complete ficlets (yay me).

However, muses wax and wane and I've been blessed by Sappho the past few days—everything is fragments.

Posting my writing was just a way to set myself a deadline, but it's great to see some of you want to follow me. Since I'm the Captain of this ship I decide where we go and I set up this really nice calendar to cross off every day I post and I don't want to ruin my streak. So, this unfinished thing is me keeping my streak, because I make the rules!

Once again thank you to @wotvagyok for cheering me on and discussing many great chubby!kink ideas with me.

Rating: Explicit Words: 1850 Relationship: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Dom/sub, Belly kink, Gainer!Dom Steve, Daddy kink

Read on AO3

(also, I've been reading too many fics by howdoyousleep which is why Steve's suddenly Bucky's daddy.. surprise 🎉) They’d played those games before. Bucky asking Steve to control him, use him, hurt him. After Steve’s transformation he’d begged him to really damage him. Use that supersoldier strength to bite bruises into Bucky’s skin that he’d feel for weeks. That was easy for Bucky. Pushing for more, asking for pain. He didn’t know when those wires had gotten crossed in his head, but as long as he could remember pain and pleasure had been linked in his mind. First time he could remember jerking off, coming with his hand in his mouth. Tooth marks on his skin that lasted all night.

This, however, was something new. Something that had only started when he’d found his way back from the Winter Soldier into his own mind, Bucky’s mind—whatever was left of that. There he’d found this. This squirming, insecure little thing that wanted to be good to Steve, didn’t want to push him, but slide against him. Move when he moved, like they were one instead of two separate halves.

Bucky could feel his legs tingling, slowly starting to go numb on the hard wood floor. Steve was still working his way through the entire pot of food. Bucky smiled when he saw the way his belly was starting to really strain the buttons on his shirt. That had started a bit after Bucky had found Steve again. When he didn’t think about finding Bucky all the time, he’d let himself indulge in the new foods of the 21stcentury.

When those first ten pounds had settled on Steve’s hips, he’d wanted to slim back down immediately—stay at fighting weight. Bucky had sniffed out that little bit of apprehension though. After Steve had really used his weight to throw Bucky around, he’d teased that out of Steve.

He’d admitted it made him feel powerful, even bigger than Bucky, felt that dominating strength even outside their bedroom when he felt his waistband biting into his skin and his belly rounding out against his shirts. When everyone’s eyes first went to that pudge Captain America had put on. He wanted more of that.

Bucky had soothed his mind of being useless for fighting the morning after. Pulling out all stops, using every aspect of the Winter Soldier training. Steve still managed to pin him within a few minutes. That little paunch under his belly button laying heavily into the small of Bucky’s back, having him rut against the mat underneath.

Steve’s voice pulled Bucky out of the memory, “You back with me, Buck? You looked a little lost there” Bucky could feel that warm smile spread on his face, didn’t even have to nod for Steve to understand.

Bucky scooted closer to Steve, resting his head against Steve’s right thigh. Steve must’ve made a good dent in the food. His belly was rounding out almost spherical. Bucky could see his belly button through the undershirt that showed through the widening gaps of the button down. The button of his trousers was slightly obscured by his belly, but by the way Steve dug his finger underneath the waistband every few bites, it must be getting tight.

Bucky finally moved after spending so long in the same position his legs had started falling asleep. The buzzing rush of pins and needles running up and down his thighs made him shiver. Instead of rubbing the sensation from his legs, he moved further up and buried his face against Steve’s belly. His hands came up to frame Steve’s ball gut on either side. Steve groaned with Bucky’s hands finally on his belly.

“Don’t pull the shirt too much. Don’t want help popping the buttons, you understand?” Bucky hummed agreeable and began digging his knuckles into Steve’s belly. He wasn’t quite full enough yet, that Bucky had to be careful with his touch.

He could just enjoy that heavy feeling of Steve’s belly in his hands, the way it pushed out against him. Steve really must’ve indulged every offering at the banquet. However, his supersoldier metabolism was working through the food fast. Would Steve also put on fat four times as fast as the average human?

Bucky didn’t have another moment to contemplate that question. Steve groaned above him, and Bucky eased up on the pressure he was rubbing his gut with. The pot must almost be empty by now.

+++

There’s barely anything left of the curry. Steve has been working steadily on eating everything, but now his pace was slowing down, and his breathing was getting heavier. Bucky continued rubbing large circles over Steve’s gut, concentrating on the stuffed upper belly.

Almost finished. Just one more bite. Just one more. Steve hadn’t asked for Bucky to speak and encourage him, but a constant stream of it flowed through his mind. So proud to see Steve indulging like this. To see him grow. Growing heavier than Bucky by the day. His titanium arm had weighed a full forty pounds, but even the vibranium arm gave him a leg up by about ten pounds. Still, he was nowhere near as heavy as Steve, and he relished in the difference when Steve held him down.

+++

The shirt grew tighter and tighter. The fabric groaning with the strain, loud enough now for even unenhanced humans to hear, but the buttons just wouldn’t budge. High-quality materials kept Steve from ripping through the buttons with his stuffed gut. He gulped for air, there was nothing left to eat, but he needed something more.

“Get me something to drink, Buck.” He jumped up and almost ran to the kitchen, coming to a skidding halt in front of the fridge. Something to drink. Bucky defaulted to a glass of water, but then thought better of it. Steve had left the decision to him. He grabbed two of the beer bottles at the bottom of the fridge and raced back. Steve took both bottles from Bucky’s hands and quickly opened one with the other.

He put the first bottle to his lips and downed it within a few seconds. He slammed the bottle on the side table to his right and heaved a few heavy breaths, just as it seemed like Steve would have to open that second bottle as well. The button on the roundest part of his belly popped off.

His belly sagged forward filling the bit of space. Time seemed suspended in the moment until a chain reaction started popping the rest of the buttons and tearing the fabric where the buttons wouldn’t give in fast enough. Steve’s overstuffed gut surged forward, but not by much, weighing high and tight on his torso. He was heaving shallow breaths trying to work around the spasming muscles in his belly.

+++

“Wanna get those pretty pink lips on me.”

“Got myself all ready, so you can fuck me.” Steve’s expression soured into a frown.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be a good boy for me?” Bucky nodded meekly. “Do good boys talk back when their daddies tell them what to do?”

Bucky’s mind caught on that word—daddy—they’d discussed a few names for the position Steve would be in, in this scenario. However, Bucky had not anticipated the dizzying headrush he’d feel hearing that word out loud. Having Steve say exactly who he was to Bucky.

The feeling shot straight to his dick. His hips involuntarily snapped forward. He let his head fall with the shame that burned on his cheeks.

“Oh,” Steve cooed, “you like hearing me say that?” He shoved another spoonful of curry in his mouth, savouring the taste, only after swallowing the food did he turn his full attention back on Bucky.

“I’m your daddy, Buck. You see how I gotta keep you in check, hm? Just there. You’re always so eager.” Bucky nodded along to Steve’s words. “But when I’m here to guide you, you take such good care of me don’t you?”

Steve clearly expected an answer. Bucky swallowed around the word in his mouth, it felt heavy on his tongue, like a momentous occasion.

“Yes.” He paused and swallowed again. “Daddy.”

Steve pulled Bucky up and up, off his knees and back onto the couch.

“You’re gonna make me come with those pretty pink lips, ok?” Bucky nodded and went straight for Steve’s crotch, eager to please. Once again Steve stopped him. Disappointed frown on his face.

“I try to teach you—” Bucky realised what Steve wanted from him. “Yes, daddy.” Bucky could see Steve’s hand twitch where it was resting on his stuffed belly.

“Don’t interrupt me, boy.” Bucky ducked his head and bit down on his bottom lip.

“I know you’re trying to make this so good for me, but you still have to listen to me, ok?” Bucky sat up straighter and wiggled on Steve’s lap a bit, then tapped his index finger to his ear. Listening.

“Good boy.” Bucky felt that familiar sweet feeling prickle at the back of his neck. He waited for Steve’s next order. Instead, Steve pulled him close by the neck and surprised him with a kiss. He pulled back before Bucky could really get over his surprised reaction.

+++

“Turn around, baby boy. Heard you got yourself all nice and ready for me.”

“What were you thinking about while you worked yourself open like that?”

“Did you come, baby boy?”

“No? Oh, you’re so good, waiting for your daddy to come home and tell you when you’re allowed.”

“Push back a bit for me.”

“Quit your whining that’s not gonna make me give you my cock any faster.”/”Oh, be a good boy and stay quiet, won’t you?”

“Yes, look at you. If I pulled at that little gemstone, you’d be all nice and wet for me. Do you think you should ride my cock right now?”

“Whatever you want, daddy.”

“Good boy. That’s right. I get to decide what you need. Can you sit back for me?”

“Yes, look at that. So obedient.”

“Why don’t you fuck yourself on it? You think you can come on this little thing when you’re used to daddy’s cock?”

“That was a question.”

“Whatever you want, daddy.”

“That’s right, good boy. You come when I tell you to, don’t you? Look at you rutting away on this little toy and leaking all over yourself. Think I can add a finger next to the toy? Oh, look at you taking it so well. Does that remind you of daddy’s thick cock?”

“Keep it up, baby boy. Want you to come just on that toy. ‘m gonna jerk you off to help you a bit, but when you get close you gotta tell me, ok?”

“Already? Ok.”

“I know, I know. Just a bit now. Lean back.”

“C’mon, my fingers not enough?”

“Oh, you need permission, baby boy, is that it?”

“Such a good boy waiting for that.”

“Come for me.”

“Oh, you were so good for me. You gonna be ok leaving that plug in for a bit? Yeah, you’re tired I know. Taking care of your daddy and having your pussy fucked takes a lot out of you. Let’s get you to bed.”

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 12//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd *bold tags don’t work! Let me know if you would like to be added to the list!)

For the six weeks I was aware of my pregnancy, I had learned almost everything an expecting female should know at sixteen weeks along. As a human I never learned much about pregnancy or babies and honestly never expected to. I figured I would learn more once my sisters were married and expecting their own. I never anticipated that I would be the first. Now, of course, being a faerie changed all of those preconceived notions. I was mated, in love, and both my mate and I desperately wanted a baby of our own. But after having tried to conceive for the last decade, I was honestly a little embarrassed that I didn't educate myself more on the condition.

However, Madja made sure to inform Rhys and I of what to expect based on whatever stage I was currently in. At four months along, well into the second stage of my pregnancy, Madja advised us that I would soon "pop." We must have looked equally confused at the phrase, because the healer then explained that soon my pregnant belly would become more pronounced—that I would start to show. I naively thought that it already happened, seeing as Rhys was obsessed with the small swell that was my stomach, but Madja expressed that this minor swelling was more of my body bloating from the hormonal changes occurring in my body.

In passing, my pregnancy wasn't at all noticeable. I often chose to wear my usual leggings and soft sweaters around the estate and whenever I ventured into the city—visiting my painting studio Ressina had graciously taken over after current events kept me away. The only time my stomach was truly noticeable was when I was either naked (much to my mates' pleasure) and when I wore the gown that hugged my every curve during our visit to the Court of Nightmares. Even then I had to flatten the fabric in order to really accentuate the curve to Keir and the rest of the court. However, among the fae, my condition was easily noticeable thanks to my scent. Every time Rhys and I had journeyed into the streets of Velaris for walks along the Sidra, dinner at Sevenda's, or otherwise, we received approving smiles from passersby who took notice—all too polite to come outright and congratulate us before we made an official announcement.

Once we had actually announced the news, days after the Court of Nightmares, most every fae—lesser and otherwise, frequently and eagerly praised us. It was such a contrast to the reaction at Hewn City, that I couldn't help but get a little emotional every time someone gave us a gift or offered a piece of advice. Many times, Rhys and I heard of their excitement for when I would start to show—of when my belly would "pop."

And now, standing in front of my floor length mirror wearing my silken dressing gown, I realized I had indeed popped.

I stood astonished as I viewed my new pronounced belly in the mirror, despite it still being rather minor, there was now a distinct outward curve from below my bust line to my hips. I turned to the side to get a better view of my new stomach and blinked; wondering at just how long it might've taken me to notice this change. It had been another week since Rhys and I sent out letters requesting to move up the summit meeting; convincing Tamlin to attend as well. While it only took a couple of days to hear back from all the courts, we were still exchanging letters to iron out the details.

Kallias had been the first to respond, expressing his and Viviane's shared desire to meet early since their child was due in only a matter of weeks. Their child would still be a newborn by the time our summit would normally take place, and neither had the inclination to leave behind their baby or part ways with the other so soon after the birth. After Rhys confirmed with Kallias that it was safe for Viviane to travel, he sent a request for a room for us to stay in—and for me to recover in after winnowing to Thesan's palace.

We both agreed it would be wise to express to Thesan why we needed the room, and the High Lord of the Dawn Court readily agreed—having already received the same request from the High Lord and High Lady of the Winter Court. Along with his approval of the room, he also sent us his congratulations in the form of a large crystalline vase filled with a colored variety of delicate flowers that grew exclusively at his court. I was a little hesitant upon first seeing the bouquet, recalling that the last time we received a gift from a court they had been the blood rubies from Tarquin—after taking his half of the Book of Breathings. Rhys reassured me, however, that flowers were indeed a good sign—the extravagance of the arrangement showing Thesan's support.

"Well look at you," Rhys said from the doorway with a devilish grin, pulling me from my thoughts as I met his gaze. "Or should I say look at you two?"

I grinned at him through the mirror as he crossed the room, getting on his knees before me as he took in the full view of my stomach. His violet eyes were full of adoration as one hand traced the new curve and the other rested on my hip.

"You really are showing now, my love," he said before placing a chaste kiss on my skin.

I smiled and brushed a stray lock of his blue-black hair from his face before he stood again and encircled his arms around my waist. He pulled me gently against him and our grins widened when my newly formed stomach pressed against the hard planes of his.

"You better enjoy being able to hold me this close while you can," I teased. "Pretty soon my belly will be getting in the way."

"Of all the things that could come between us, Feyre darling, this," he said, moving his hands to hold either side of me "is the best."

My face flushed with pure joy as he lowered his brow onto mine, his violet eyes sparkling with an equal amount as I laid my hands on his chest. "Will you still feel that way when I'm as big as a house?" I asked timidly.

For a while I was pondering over the fact that pregnancy now meant my body was going to change—drastically. Realistically, I always knew it was going to happen, but after hearing talks of just how excited everyone was to see the physical evidence of my pregnancy, the reality of this transformation began to settle over me. My figure had been through a few changes before; once transitioning from human to fae and adopting near-perfect features. Again during that period of darkness after Under the Mountain, when I had gone gaunt and pale; my body at its weakest. After coming to the Night Court—to Velaris, I recovered. My cheeks filled in, the color on my pallid complexion came back, and the rest of my figure filled out to a slender physique. Training with Cassian and learning to fly with Azriel had added more weight to my frame, coming strictly from my newfound muscles. Over the last decade, I maintained that lithe and fit shape, but being pregnant meant everything was becoming...soft—or at least softer. As much as I loved and reveled in the joy of knowing my son was growing by the day, I couldn't help but wonder at how Rhys might react to said changes.

"You think I would sneer at the changes in your body or a few permanent stretch marks?" Rhys asked, a bit stunned, reading the insecurities hidden behind my words.

"No! I just...I don't-" I sighed, searching for the accurate way to describe my feelings. A surge of emotions hitting as I sought the right words. "I'm afraid that if I find them ugly, if I hate them, then I'll convince you into hating them too. I know you'll keep telling me I'm beautiful and that I look perfect, but with the way my hormones are wreaking havoc on me, I'm afraid I'll complain so much that you'll begin to see what I see. That, or I'll complain so much that you'll get annoyed with me."

Rhysand's look of shock disappeared as he cupped my face gently in his hands, his violet eyes besotted as he stared into mine. "Nothing you could ever say or do will change my opinion of you, or how I look at you, Feyre darling," he started softly. "You are my mate, my wife, my equal, and now the mother of my child. You will always be that, and so much more, in my eyes, no matter how unattractive you might feel at a certain moment."

I smiled as he pressed another kiss to my brow before moving to my lips. I kissed him back eagerly, draping my arms over his shoulders delicately and pouting a bit as he pulled away prematurely.

"You can't just say perfect things like that and expect me not to shower you with kisses for the rest of the hour," I teased.

His grin was mischievous as his eyes raked over my body, still clad in my silk dressing gown, lingering on my breasts appreciatively as he took in those changes as well. "I would gladly take the rest of the day allowing us to get lost in each other's arms, darling, but we did get the final word from Thesan in regard to the summit."

I languished at the loss of our time alone; at the duties that being High Lord and High Lady were currently stealing from our time as a couple but resigned with a nod. "All the final preparations have been made; the date is set?" I asked, staying in his embrace.

He nodded, "We'll leave tomorrow," he said. His expression grew a bit somber as his hands moved back to my waist, thumbs stroking along the curve of my stomach.

What's wrong? I asked through the bond after a moment of silence passed between us.

"It's Beron," he replied aloud. "He responded that he will be accompanying Eris this year, along with the rest of his entourage."

My blood chilled. Along with sending an imploring letter to Tamlin every year, we also sent an invitation to Beron—who always vehemently denied and in his place Eris attended alone. After our secret negotiation with Eris before the war, we often tried to guess when he would call in his favor—to remove his father off the throne so that he may take over as High Lord, but after all these years he still remained ambiguous in those plans. Over the course of the decade, his meetings with Keir decreased, and while we kept a close eye on those visits and made sure to show up every time he did, we were still anxious that he might also be a participant in Keir's coup. Our plan was to confront him at the summit meeting and gather whatever information we could. Beron's attendance now made said confrontation tricky.

"Do you think Eris is involved?" I asked.

Rhys shook his head. "When we struck that deal, he wanted our backing when it came time to install him on the throne. As ruthless as he is, a part of me believed him when he asked for an alliance," he explained.

I chewed on my lip as I contemplated it. As the eldest of the Vanserra sons, Eris was indeed cruel—especially after what had come from his rejection of the marriage alliance with Mor centuries ago. Still, after his aide in the war and his confession of saving Lucien, it was possible he was still an ally.

"I find it hard to believe he wouldn't know of Beron's plans. He claims ignorance at every summit, but would Beron really keep him in the dark for this long?"

Rhys frowned, "After the war, and all the convincing Eris did on our behalf for the war-effort, it's possible he's turned to another one of his sons to prepare for the throne once he's gone. It might even be part of whatever negotiations he's in with Keir—to support the son of his choice to take over as High Lord one day."

I sighed heavily, seeing the truth in his words and nodded, "So how do we question them now?"

"Beron isn't a stranger to openly sharing his distaste, and something tells me he'll really hate this," he said, motioning to my stomach. "So, we wait for him to dig his own grave. That'll be telling for us, and the others."

I gave him a wry smirk, "Something tells me that this summit isn't going to be as peaceful or quaint as it has been in the past."

"Ah Feyre darling, when have any of our summits been quaint?" He regarded with a grin.

I laughed as I remembered our past summits, which almost always ended with us eating dinner with the other High Lords—along with Vassa, Jurian, and Lucien. We were still wary to refer to Jurian as a friend, but he was most certainly an ally as he served by Queen Vassa's side. Regardless, those dinners always ended up being a rather boisterous, yet enjoyable gathering of friends. It was reassuring to know that while our decade-long tenure of peace was currently in question, at least we could rely on the friendships we had formed with the other courts and the mortals.

"Good point," I said with a sigh. "I just hope everyone else will support us."

"You still don't fully realize just how well-liked you are, do you?" Rhys asked with a warm smirk. "The males might not openly admit it, but they greatly admire you, Feyre darling. And from what I've seen between you, Mor, and Viviane, the High Lady of the Winter Court also holds you in high regard."

I smiled again, trying to hide the blush creeping in on my face. "So, what you're trying to say is; I have nothing to worry about?"

He nodded, almost mocking in his tone as he tapped the tip of my nose. "Precisely, my love."

I tried not to laugh, shaking my head at him. "Prick."

"Right again," he said, this time capturing my lips with his as I laughed in reply.

XXX

The next day Rhys and I were the last to arrive at the front foyer of the manor. Our usual entourage of Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Nesta waited for us—along with Amren and Elain to see us off. I had always found the latter a strange pairing, but oddly fitting as well. Elain, always one to refrain from any sort of confrontation, preferred to stay away from our summit meetings. Meanwhile, regardless of her transformation as a true high fae, Amren still possessed that air of anonymity as well as intimidation. Her foreboding nature served us well in the Court of Nightmares and would probably aid in our situation with Beron and Tamlin, but our second-in-command never attended the summits. She often claimed that being surrounded by that many animated personalities would render her so exasperated to the point of a migraine. So, she stayed behind and watched over Velaris—as well as kept a close eye on Elain.

"It's about time you show up," Cassian teased as Rhys and I approached the group. "That youngling is already slowing you two down."

"That tends to happen when a pregnant female has her head buried in a toilet for hours," Rhys snarled back, a protective hand coming to rest on the small of my back.

Cassian's mood shifted to one of guilt and I saw Nesta and Mor turn a scowl of disapproval in his direction. I held my hands up in reassurance, "Ignore him, Cassian, the mating bond is making him grumpy."

"But you're not well," Azriel said before Cassian could reply, his hazel eyes carefully taking in my current state.

Unfortunately, it was true. I woke up with another bout of nausea that kept me in our bathing room for the better part of the morning. I was growing weary of these spells of sickness, especially given how seriously Rhys responded to them. Every time I was the least bit unwell, he insisted I remain in bed. Until today, where I determined that we couldn't postpone this meeting regardless of my illness. It was an unfortunate side effect of pregnancy I would have to continue to deal with, and I refused to let it hinder me further.

"I'm all right. Just a part of the process," I said, hand resting on my stomach.

They all looked at my hand, unease looming in the air, but I straightened my shoulders regardless.

"We should go, I don't want us to be the last ones there. The meeting is already going to be delayed until after I have time to recover from winnowing," I said.

"You and Viviane both need that time," Mor said. "All those haughty males will just have to deal with it."

Nesta huffed in approval, and Amren crossed her arms with a wicked grin. "I say milk that time for all its worth. Though I've never been, I've heard from all of you how well the High Lord of Dawn accommodates his guests."

"I've also heard how well everyone attends to a pregnant female. It's so rare among the fae—us, that I'm sure they'll give you anything you need," Elain chimed in, touching my arm delicately.

I gave them a tired smile and nodded, acknowledging their advice as well as their concern. Rhys had expressed just how weary and pale I looked before we left our rooms, and I was sure they all saw it in me now.

"And if they don't, we certainly will." Azriel added, more out of reassurance to Elain than to me.

"By force if we have to," Cassian joked, some of his ease returning.

"That's very sweet of you all, but I'm fine," I insisted, turning to Rhys.

He nodded before addressing the others, "Why don't you all go ahead? We'll be right behind you, and we'll join you in the chamber once Feyre's recovered."

They all nodded in approval before I could protest; Mor taking hold of Cassian's shoulder just as Nesta placed a hand on his arm wordlessly. Azriel disappeared first before Mor winnowed my sister and Cassian away in a whirl of black. I turned back to Rhys incredulously just as Amren led a wary-eyed Elain down the hall that led to her garden, asking something about a new herb she was growing.

"You didn't have to send them ahead of us," I chided, crossing my arms.

Rhys's returning smile was impish, "Now who's grumpy?"

I shoved his shoulder, "I'm serious Rhys! What will the others think?"

He gripped my arms gently, pulling me back to him. "The others will be placated by Thesan until you and Viviane recover. Once we meet with them all in the chamber, and we reveal your pregnancy, they'll understand," he reassured.

I chewed on my lip, considering. "You're sure they won't feel slighted by seeing our entourage present without us?"

Rhys chuckled, "Feyre darling, I bet they're all taking bets on whether you're pregnant or not as the real reason why we're holding the summit this early in the first place." He kissed my temple. "I hope this paranoia is just a temporary symptom of your pregnancy. You are High Lady of the Night Court, you bow to no one," He reminded me.

I nodded with a withering sigh. "I know. This summit just holds such higher stakes; we're not only announcing my pregnancy to our friends, but we're asking for alliances in a civil war that might break out in our court. It's...nerve wracking."

"Understandably so, my love." He kissed my forehead again, his violet eyes burning into mine with admiration. But we'll get through this together.

I smiled and closed my eyes as dark talons caressed my mental shields gently, I slipped them down—reveling in this quiet moment, this peace, alone with him in our minds. He pulled back, physically and mentally, and grinned at me.

"Shields up?" I asked as mine clicked solidly back into place.

"Always," he purred in my ear as one arm came to wrap around my waist.

I closed my eyes as I felt the darkening effects of winnowing begin to engulf us. Prior to pregnancy, the feeling was quick and had a subtle impact—making me dizzy for a moment as I adjusted to my new surroundings. Over time, it hardly bothered me at all. Now it felt sluggish, the darkness hitting me with a force that felt as if I were being dragged through thick mud, and when the light of my new surroundings finally came into view my mind was racing and spinning as if I had been twirling on pointe with my eyes closed for several minutes.

Unfortunately, this harsh vertigo was seemingly getting worse as my pregnancy progressed. I gripped onto Rhys, my nails digging into his arm as I tried to ground myself. I kept my eyes shut tightly as the spinning continued, and I could hardly register the myriad of voices around me. I knew one belonged to Rhys, presumably talking to whatever sentry awaited us at the Dawn Palace. I winced as I felt myself being swept into Rhys's arms and rested my forehead against the crook of his neck as I gulped in a few deep breaths, fighting against the continuous swirling of my surroundings.

When the world finally stilled and my breaths began to slow and came easily, I heard the gentle timbre of Viviane's voice alongside Rhys's and another male I assumed to be Kallias. I couldn't make out what they were saying at first, but I realized I was slowly gaining consciousness as their voices floated in. I hadn't realized I had fainted until I opened my eyes and saw the intricate details of the ceiling of Thesan's sunstone Palace. Rhys was seated at my side on an impossibly soft lounge, his attention back on me as I muttered incoherently.

"What was that, my love?" He asked, concern all over his face.

I blinked and cleared my throat, "I fainted?" I asked, my hoarse voice.

"Just for a few minutes," came Viviane's voice from beside me.

She was in a lounge similar to mine, only a few feet across from me. Her mate standing guard beside her as she sat upright. My eyes were immediately drawn to her large, round belly; a pale hand perched delicately atop it as her own weary gaze met mine.

"Congratulations," she said happily, though I could hear the exhaustion clear in her own voice.

"Oh, Viviane, look at you," I said, trying to sit up but stopped when I felt another wave of dizziness threaten to hit.

Rhys eased me back onto the back of the lounge, "Don't try to sit up just yet, Feyre. You need more time."

I nodded as I readjusted myself against the pillows on the lounge with his help and smiled back at Viviane, "You're huge," I cooed.

I heard Kallias choke back a snarl, a hand coming to grip the back of Viviane's lounge as she rolled her eyes. "Kallias's male-bonded 'tendencies' assume anytime someone says that to me, I'll be inconsolable," she reasoned.

Kallias cleared his throat as he met my gaze, "Apologies," he glanced back down at his mate, "But to be fair, the one time I said it, you burst into tears and shut me out of our rooms for hours."

"That was different, I had only just begun to show, like Feyre." She said, motioning to me.

I glanced down at my stomach, my hand laid atop it in similar fashion to Viviane. I looked at her belly again, astonished that in only a matter of months my stomach would look the same. When Kallias's eyes trailed to me, Rhys's own unabashed snarl ripped from his throat as darkness seeped into the corners of the room. I gripped his hand to calm him just as Kallias's own guard was thrown up, causing Viviane to heave an impatient sigh.

"Honestly, you two and your male instincts will be thrown out of this room if you don't put a leash on it," she snapped.

I heard Kallias mutter an apology just for her ears as Rhys offered a sheepish grin, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her, wanting to shift the conversation back into a lighter one.

She beamed, running a hand along the expanse of her belly, "Honestly? Exhausted doesn't begin to cover how tired I actually am, but in spite of it all," she looked up at Kallias, her icy blue eyes warm. "We're so excited."

Kallias sat beside her, his hand coming to caress her stomach lovingly. I smiled as Rhys's own hand came to rest on mine.

"Do you know if it's a boy or girl?" I asked.

"A girl," Kallias answered, his eyes never leaving Viviane's stomach.

She beamed, "The midwives told us it was a girl, and they're well known for predicting the gender of our courts younglings. They haven't been wrong in centuries."

My heart squeezed at the painful memory of the Winter Court's younglings; of Amarantha's cruelty wiping through the many young and innocent lives of their court. I knew Rhys felt the same shame as we watched Viviane and Kallias share a tender moment, marveling over her swollen stomach and their unborn daughter, and I squeezed his hand again.

It's in the past, and they are healing. I said down the bond, reassuring him.

Rhys squeezed my hand back and gave me a warm smile in thanks. I can't wait to see you like that, round with our child and both of us counting down the days until his arrival

Let's hope I'll be as graceful as Viviane.

I have no doubt about that, Feyre darling

"Do you know what you're having?" Viviane asked with a sly grin, knowing she was cutting into our silent exchange.

Rhys and I shared another before he announced proudly, "A boy."

"Congratulations Rhysand," Kallias said, crossing over from his mate's side to shake Rhys's hand.

Rhys stood to return the gesture, offering his own congratulations as Kallias motioned my mate over to the open archway in the room—a subtle request for a private word. I turned my attention back to Viviane as the two males stepped away.

"It doesn't get any easier does it?" I warily asked.

Viviane gave me a sympathetic smile, "I'm afraid not. Just wait until you start to feel your little one move," she indicated to her stomach. "This one leaps at just the sound of Kallias's voice."

I stared at her stomach in awe, "She can hear you?"

"So, can yours. In fact, he's been able to hear your voice from the beginning. As he grows, he'll be able to hear other outside voices, especially your mates."

I looked down at the swell of my stomach, distinctly smaller than Viviane's, but still visible through my gown. "All this time I've been teasing Rhys about talking to him, not realizing he could actually hear me all along," I said in awe.

She warmed, "Isn't it remarkable?"

I nodded as I caressed my belly lightly but cast a worried glance back at her when she winced and shifted in her seat. She put up a hand to signal to Kallias, who snapped his head in her direction at the sound of discomfort, that she was alright and huffed in annoyance as she turned back to me.

"Enjoy those movements while he's small, because once you reach the end stages it's all feet and elbows in your ribs," she complained as she pressed against one with two fingers.

"Is she moving right now?" I asked, moving upright in my seat to get a better view of her stomach.

She nodded, "Do you want to feel?"

I blinked, mouth agape and was on my feet—albeit still slowly and cautiously as I was just starting to feel better, and crossed over to sit beside her on the lounge. I saw Rhys glance at me, posing a question down the bond before I reassured him that I was all right. Viviane guided one of my hands to the side of her stomach and I sucked in a shocked breath at the swift kick I felt on my palm.

"That was a kick?" I asked, completely stunned.

Viviane grinned as she nodded, "She's strong, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is," I said, mesmerized as I moved my hand to a different spot on her belly; a grin breaking out on my face as I felt another kick.

Viviane adjusted herself again, "She kicks my ribs a lot more lately, now that she's moved into position."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The midwives say she's moved into the correct birthing position, head down here," she explained, gesturing to her pelvis and then gestured to the apex of her stomach, "And feet up here."

"And that means you're ready to give birth?" I balked, a little nervous that the High Lady of the Winter Court may very well go into labor during our summit.

She chuckled, reading the panic in my face, "Technically yes, but the midwives say I still have a couple of weeks to go. The baby is just getting herself ready."

I nodded in understanding. So far, I hadn't yet considered what labor would be like. Madja had been guiding Rhys and I week by week, sharing with us any warning signs to look out for, but no mentions of labor just yet.

Viviane must have also read that concern in my eyes and placed a reassuring hand on mine, "Don't worry, you'll learn more about the birthing process as you get further along. When I was at your stage, I was just glad not to be puking my guts up every day."

I grimaced, "It was bad for you too?"

She nodded, "There were days I could barely get out of bed!"

I took comfort at that, glad to know I wasn't the only one to have suffered, "But you feel better now?"

She shrugged. "In a sense. I'm not as queasy anymore, but now my back and feet ache—understandably so," she said, motioning to her stomach again.

I smiled empathetically, "Does Kallias never leave your side?" I asked, wondering if their mating bond was as sensitive as Rhys's and mine.

She laughed, "Not for a moment. Especially now that my time is near."

"I'm surprised he's even talking to Rhys right now," I said, gesturing to the two males standing across from one another underneath the intricate open arched window.

"Kallias is probably warning him of what to expect," Viviane said as she followed my gaze.

"What do you mean?"

She sighed, weary. "Our midwives informed us of what the labor process will be like once the time really comes. Not only about the pains and the birth itself, but how...delicate the mating bond is. Females become withdrawn, reserved, as our bodies naturally prepare for the undertaking it will face in order to give birth. Males, on the other hand, grow even more protective if you can believe it; not as aggressive as they are when the bond is new...but more mindful and vigilant. They can apparently sense when their mate is about to go into labor and feel the need to do everything in their power to make sure she is comfortable for that moment."

I watched Rhys and Kallias as she explained, noting the grim line on Rhys's face as Kallias probably went into more depth of what he would experience as a mated male. "Do you think you're getting closer to that time?" I asked.

She shrugged again, "Not yet. As Kallias likes to put it, even this far along I'm as feisty as ever," she laughed lightly and caressed her stomach. "I can tell it worries him though. Bringing about a youngling isn't easy, and I can tell he's anxious to see me in pain."

I frowned, "Will it be terrible?"

She smiled sheepishly, "I'm not sure yet, but I can't imagine it'll be pleasant. But...everyone tells me it's worth it, especially once we see our babies...nothing else is supposed to matter."

The dreamy look in her eyes reassured me and I caressed my own stomach lightly. I can't wait to meet you.

Neither can I. Rhys said through the bond, and I met his gaze as we both exchanged a quick smile before returning to our conversations.

As I kept stroking the gentle swell of my stomach, I couldn't help but wonder if our son could hear us through our bond—if he didn't already have both of his parents voices fully memorized.