#there are moments when they are all still and calm and safe together

[jromanoff]

Nightmare II R. George

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): bus accident, mentions of trauma and therapy

Authors note: something short and cute for you all :)

Summary: Regina has a nightmare about the accident.

Word count: 1.1k

Regina and Cady burst through the doors of the school’s main entrance, their voices echoing through the hallways. The other students followed them outside, eager to witness the encounter between two of the popular girls at North Shore (and film it, of course). Regina stormed away from the school, still shouting at Cady, when suddenly, a vivid yellow blur hurtled towards her from the periphery of her vision.

Regina shot awake as the bus was about to hit her. She immediately shot upright in bed, breathing heavily. Her forehead covered in a small layer of sweat. Who knew Regina George could sweat?

As Regina felt the weight of the blanket on her lap she knew she was safe, in bed. It was a nightmare- it wasn’t real. Not again.

“Gina?” you spoke sleepily as you woke up due to all the movement from Regina’s side.

“Go back to sleep,” Regina said, her voice slightly trembling. She quickly used the blanket to rid herself of the sweat on her forehead. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but Regina wouldn’t let them. She didn’t want to worry her girlfriend.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you turned around in bed to face your girlfriend. Due to the darkness, you could only make out her form sitting upright on the bed as her face was turned away from you. Regina then looked over at you and spoke, “It’s nothing, baby. Just a stupid nightmare. Nothing to worry about.”

You, however, could sense that Regina was more affected by this ‘stupid’ nightmare than she let on. You knew she was trying to keep it together instead of breaking in front of you.

"I know it isn’t nothing, Regina. It's okay to admit when something’s wrong, you know?” you said softly while sitting up and placing a gentle hand on Regina's shoulder. As you looked into Regina's eyes, you could see the tears she was holding back.

Regina's facade cracked for just a moment, her eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty before she quickly regained her composure. "It was a moment of weakness," Regina spoke dismissively, her tone firm as she tried to reclaim her usual confidence.

Her sudden change of tone left you even more confused. It was suspicious. You wondered what could be bothering Regina so much. Determined to find out, you didn't want to pressure her into telling you. Instead, you hoped she would explain once she calmed down. Her body language suggested she was on high alert at the moment.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, baby. Please tell me what’s wrong.” you said as you rubbed Regina’s shoulder, hoping it would help to ground her.

Regina's dismissive facade crumbled at your words, revealing the vulnerability she was trying so hard to conceal as a single tear fell from her eye. “Okay, maybe my dream did freak me out a little." Regina admitted and sighed. Your heart broke at the sight of your sad and crying girlfriend. She didn’t deserve this.

You wrapped your arms around Regina, pulling her close in a comforting embrace. “It's okay, Regina," you murmured softly. "You don't always have to be tough, or whatever. Everyone has moments when they’re not okay. Even the queen bee. And that’s perfectly fine." you reassured your girlfriend as you felt her tears wetting your shirt.

Regina leaned into the embrace, allowing herself to be vulnerable for just a moment. “I just... I don't like feeling powerless and weak," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as you gently wiped away some stray tears from her cheeks.

“You're not powerless or weak, Regina. You're a strong, intelligent and powerful woman. Being vulnerable doesn’t invalidate those qualities." you offered words of reassurance and empowerment to your girlfriend.

Regina let out a shaky breath, grateful for the support of her girlfriend. Right now, she allowed herself to let go of the facade and embrace the comfort of being vulnerable with the person she trusted the most.

Silence engulfed the room as the two of you hugged, Regina’s head resting on your shoulder. Allowing herself to relax in your arms, Regina’s breathing slowly got back to normal.

“I dreamed about the accident,” Regina admitted quietly, breaking the silence. This made you frown, the accident was months ago.

“Is this the first time you had a nightmare about the accident?” you questioned.

Silence followed your question. That gave you everything you needed to know. “It’s not, is it?” you sighed “You need to tell me when these things happen, Regina.” you told her, hugging her a little tighter at this confession. Now that you knew about your girlfriend's nightmares, you were rightfully worried about her.

Regina nodded against your shoulder, a weight lifting from her chest as she finally shared her burden with you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to worry you and be a burden to you,” she murmured.

“It’s okay, Gina,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m here for you, always. You’ll never be a burden to me.”

Regina squeezed you tightly, her gratitude evident in the way she clung onto you like a koala. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.

“We should try and get some more sleep, don’t you agree?” you asked Regina, pulling away from the embrace, causing Regina to whine at the loss of contact.

“Will you hold me?” Regina asked, her voice hopeful. As if you’d ever deny her.

“Of course, my love,” you smiled and laid back down on the bed. “C’mon, lay down,” you said, patting your chest.

Regina didn’t hesitate to lay down, snuggling into your chest. She sighed in content as she found a comfortable position on your chest.

“Goodnight, my love,” you murmured softly, feeling her relax against you as you rubbed small circles on her back.

“Goodnight, baby,” Regina replied, her voice laced with warmth and affection.

As you thought about your girlfriend, you realized she probably needed to go to therapy to deal with the trauma of the accident. However, you decided that it was something you'd discuss with her tomorrow. She’d probably refuse, but you were determined to try nonetheless. Until then, you’d try to support her to the best of your ability. Now it was time to get some rest.

It didn’t take long before the two of you dozed off. This time, Regina slept peacefully and dreamed about her girlfriend- and so did you.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Fig & The Lime (The Surprise, Part 5)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, vague references to sex, church times and references to religious trauma Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: As your risk of a miscarriage goes down, you and Emily decide it's time to start telling people about the baby. You decide to start with the hardest person: Emily's mom. And her reaction prompts you both to make your first major parenting decision together.

Week 11: The Fig

You couldn't remember sleeping more in your entire life. You felt like you’d reverted to infancy: eat, sleep, repeat. No matter how long you slept, it was never enough. By 10:00 AM, you needed a nap. Then again at 2:00. Maybe 4:00 as well. And at night? You were lucky to make it ‘til 8:00.

So Emily wasn’t surprised when she got back from her week-long case and found you fast asleep, curled up on your side of the bed, your glasses crooked on your nose and your thumb stuck in a book. She smiled lovingly at you, pausing just to stare at you for a minute, just to watch your chest move up and down, to listen to your little huffs of breath.

Emily set her go-bag down, removed the dirty clothes, and threw them in the closet hamper basketball-style. One missed and landed nearby on the floor. She shrugged, stupidly relieved that you’d been asleep for it. You would’ve made fun of her for missing.

She crept over to you, trying not to make a sound, and leaned down to brush your hair out of your face. She gently removed your glasses and set them on your nightstand, then slid the book out of your hands, careful to hold your place. Emily leaned down to place a soft kiss on your head, standing back to stare at you again.

She shook her head and smiled. How many years had you been together? Was it five now? Six? And she still got butterflies every time she saw you sleeping in her bed. There was just something so vulnerable about you when you were asleep, something precious and rare and beautiful. For Emily, sleeping around someone meant incredible trust, it meant believing that you were safe when you could do nothing to protect yourself. Emily didn’t feel that kind of safe around anyone except you. So it made her heart melt every time she found you sleeping, every time you let yourself drift off, every time she came home and you didn’t wake up because your body and mind felt so safe with her. Emily loved making you feel safe. And, to her, moments like this were the physical manifestation of a mission accomplished.

Emily took a quick shower, washing away the grime–physical and mental–of a week spent hunting a gang of serial killers. She put on a soft t-shirt and sweatpants and crawled into bed, calm flooding her body knowing that it was Saturday afternoon. She’d have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to do nothing but be with you.

As she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you to her, you breathed in sharply and blinked. For a moment, Emily felt guilty for waking you, but the guilt disappeared when you turned your head around, bleary-eyed and beaming.

“You’re home,” you breathed, voice raspy. You turned around so you could face her, then wrapping your body around hers and holding her as tightly as a snake, your head nestled in the crook of her neck. "You smell good," you mumbled.

Emily smiled. Half-awake, half-asleep you was her favorite because you were less self-conscious than usual. All-awake Y/N would feel a little embarrassed about wanting to be so, so close to her. All-asleep Y/N would have been, well, asleep. But halfway Y/N… Emily loved the way you pressed your body into hers, like you were making yourself a nest, a home, right there in her arms.

She kissed the top of your head, running her hands through your hair.

“I missed you,” Emily whispered. “Go back to sleep, love.”

“Wait, I have to show you something,” you groaned, stretching a bit and turning to lie on your back.

You took her hand and guided it down your body.

Emily raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen this, but I’m happy to take another look if you want.”

You whacked her playfully, still not quite awake.

“No, you perv,” you grumbled. You pressed her hand down just above your pelvic bone. “Do you feel that?”

“It’s kind of hard, like a… like a bouncy ball or something.”

You nodded, smiling, your eyes drifting shut again. “It’s the womb.”

“It is!?” Emily sat up and crouched down above your belly, eager to see–though there wasn’t really much to see yet. She pressed on the spot gently with her fingers, staring at it wonderingly. 

The baby’s in there, she thought, giddily. My baby’s right there! She placed a kiss there, for you and for the baby.

“Does it feel weird?” she asked, glancing up at you when you didn’t answer. Your mouth hung open and you snored softly. She smiled; you’d fallen back asleep.

She kissed the spot where the baby was one more time, then kissed your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. She manhandled you a bit so that you were snug in her arms, the way she knew you liked to be, even if you didn’t like admitting it. Emily wrapped one arm around you, and with the other, placed her hand over your womb, feeling the little rubber ball like it was magic and might disappear at any moment. But she knew the real magic was you, your body knitting together a child right there, right below her hand.

Week 12: The Lime

You glared at yourself in front of the mirror, tugging on your maxi skirt.

“You look beautiful, honey,” Emily said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Zip me up?”

You sighed and zipped up Emily’s dress, a red-and-white floral number, momentarily distracted from your own outfit by how truly stunning Emily looked.

“I wanted to wear a suit,” you grumbled. “You know I like suits better.”

“Well, Little Lime disagreed,” Emily replied, trying to hide a smile.

You weren’t showing yet, not really, but your custom suits didn’t fit anymore, and you were furious. It was Easter Sunday. You were going to Mass with Emily’s mom.

Neither of you were religious, but it was important to Elizabeth and, while Emily and her mom weren’t very close, Emily figured that once or twice a year, she didn’t mind seeing her mom–and she actually kind of liked going to Mass.

“You know I like to look extra gay when we go to church,” you complained as Emily pulled on a pair of heels. “What if they think we’re just friends?”

Emily chuckled, taking your hand and kissing the side of your head. “Baby, I’m pretty sure no one’s gonna think we’re just friends.”

You locked the apartment door behind you, still not entirely convinced.

“I mean, I can make out with you during the homily if it’ll make you feel better,” Emily teased.

“No.” You shook your head. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“You’re still okay with telling my mom about the baby?”

“Yeah,” you decided. “It’s time. Plus, when would we see her again?”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t know… New Year’s?”

You scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think we should show up at Christmas Eve Mass with a surprise three-month-old.”

And with that, you headed to the one place you’d always assumed you’d never return to: church.

Elizabeth hugged Emily stiffly as you slid into the pew, then hugged you a little less stiffly. It wasn’t that she was homophobic exactly, it’s that she would have preferred Emily settle down with a man instead of a woman. But she liked you. You had a hard time with her, mostly because you knew that Emily, despite growing up with enough money to support about eight of your family, hadn’t had a happy childhood with her mom. But you did your best to be kind and gracious, for Emily’s sake. Emily didn’t want to be close to her mom, but she did want her in her life, and that was enough for you to try your best.

Emily had a complicated relationship with church. You’d grown up Baptist, not Catholic, so the solemnity and tradition of Catholicism was foreign to you. Despite being an atheist, Emily still found comfort in attending the occasional Mass. It was the repetition, she told you. The familiarity of it. You didn’t understand, not really. When you’d left religion, you had never wanted to step foot in a church again. But Emily was not you. There were parts of it that were home to her–as much of a home as she’d ever known moving around so much. And even though you didn’t understand, you honored and respected it.

You wondered, as the sounds of Latin and the smell of incense mingled around you, if Emily would want the baby to be baptized. You hadn’t discussed it. Religion wasn’t something you discussed often. You guessed you’d be okay with it, but you were adamantly opposed to raising a child to believe in God. Your own childhood had been filled with fiery stories of hell, tales of martyrdom that venerated toxic self-sacrifice, and the crushing, shameful, pervasive belief that something was inherently wrong with you–something that God had to fix.

You would never, never let your child believe that something was fundamentally wrong with her. Never. You wanted her to grow up believing that she was fundamentally right just the way she was. You made a mental note to discuss all this with Emily later. You assumed you’d be on the same page, since neither of you believed in God, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

After the service, Elizabeth took you out to eat at a very nice Italian restaurant. She ordered a bottle of wine for the table, and as the waiter leaned down to pour your glass, you tapped his arm.

“Just water for me, thank you,” you told him.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, looking back and forth between you and Emily.

“Something to share?” she asked.

Emily exhaled deeply and smiled at you. She was nervous, you could tell. She took your hand and looked at her mom.

“Yes, Mom. We are… having a baby. Y/N’s pregnant!”

“Well,” her mom responded, taking a sip of wine. Emily’s face fell. You could have slapped Elizabeth. “That’s… that’s excellent, dear. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Emily mumbled, and you squeezed her leg under the table. Most of the time she was so good at predicting her mom’s reactions. She was used to being let down and sidelined, used to her mom being disappointed in her. But sometimes, like anyone would, she let hope get the best of her, and got hurt all over again. Of course, Elizabeth had been lukewarm about your pregnancy. She’d been lukewarm about your marriage, lukewarm about your relationship. Hell, she was lukewarm about Emily in general.

You were glad that the baby–and Emily–had one side of the family that was truly over the moon about all of it. Your parents, you knew, would be giddy at the prospect of another grandchild. And your siblings would be thrilled to have a new niece or nephew. And Emily had told you before, often, that your family felt more family to her than hers ever had.

Later, when you came home, you cuddled up to Emily on the couch, leaning back into her chest. She had a faraway look in her eyes, absentmindedly running her fingers through your hair.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly.

She sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.”

“You expected your mom to be happy you’re having a baby. That’s a reasonable expectation.”

“Not with her.”

You turned your head back to look at her, placing a hand on her cheek. “Emily. You deserve a family who celebrates with you. It’s not fair that she doesn’t do that. It’s okay to be upset.”

She seemed lost in thought for a while. You took one of her hands and played with her fingers.

“I don’t think we should go to Mass anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I don’t want him growing up in that.”

You felt your heart unclench a bit. All those earlier anxieties, unfounded.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing something though," you told her. "You always said Mass felt like home.”

She pressed her face into your neck, kissing your shoulder. “It did for a long time. But I have other things that feel like home now. Like you. And Little Lime. And the BAU.”

Your heart surged. It was an honor to be the place where Emily felt at home. “No Mass then,” you said.

“No Mass.”

And just like that, your first big parenting decision together had been made.

[wintfleur]

🍂 ͡ ꒱ JULIETTES RELATIONSHIP WITH HER BROTHERS

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

𐙚 LORENZO!

Lorenzo . . . ‘Enzo’ is the best big brother, he’s such a role model for her, and she’s always looked up to him.

He’s always been her voice of reason and encouragement, helping her calm down her emotions and not do anything rash, to help her understand what she’s feeling and to listen to what she says and, to always be there to cheer her up and help her out of those dark feelings.

Enzo was the first person she told when she realized she also wanted to kart.

Enzo helped teach her how to drive with there father, Arthur and Charles to scared to get in the car, claiming that she’s ‘going to kill them and drive into a store’ Julie did end up threatening to kill them in a more private and painful way because of all there teasing. Neither of them got in a car with her for months.

Julie gets sister privileges !!!

They have there weekly calls, checking in and making sure everything is good.

Enzo is the best advice giver! And she knows she can talk to him about anything

She loves just curling up in his side.

Just the sweetest big brother ever.

Has have had to pick Julie up at parties when she’s gotten too drunk . . . many times.

They both definitely laugh and tease the other two when they are being dramatic

He loves his little sister very much and will do anything for her!

𐙚 CHARLES!

Out of all her siblings, she’s definitely the closest to Charles, ever since they were kids.

Yes they had their fair share of arguments and fights, but they have always stuck up for each other no matter what, they can only mess with each other . . . no one else!

They’re each other’s safe place, they both understand the pressure they are both under, and they really help each other out.

Charles was the first person Julie told when she realized that she liked girls as well. And he was the one who helped her gain the courage to come out.

Charles is always the first person to defend her, from the media, interviewers, from anyone. He will not have his sister disrespected.

They both absolutely love their family, planning outings and get togethers for all of them!

They see each other the most

They had a tree house! And would always tease Arthur about not being cool enough to come up and hang with them.

He’s the most nosey brother, wanting to know everything going on in her life . . . but he means well !

They have had some moments where their career has put some strain on their relationship, but it doesn’t last long. It’s just because Julie hates talking about her feelings, and Charles loves talking about hers . . . aka avoidance from Julie.

He loves having sleepovers at her homes!

Sassy duo fr!

They are always messing with each other! And the media absolutely loves it.

You know that tiktok sound ‘this is bob, bob loves his personal space. This is Larry, Larry also loves bob’s personal space’ that’s them, bob is Julie and Larry is Charles.

Sees Julie’s soft side the most

𐙚 ARTHUR!

That’s her baby . . . no one messes with her baby (yes she’s only a year older . . . but still, he’s her baby)

Julie is Arthur’s favorite sibling and he’s very open about it, Arthur was quite the emotional kid and despite his outburst or over reactions, Julie was always there for him, to help him out, calm him down and, to let him know that he’s not crazy about his feelings

Julie has always been there for Arthur to listen to his worry’s about driving and what his future is in the sport, he trusts her opinion and thoughts more than anyone else.

Arthur hates how every single one of his friends are in love with Julie, and Julie just loves teasing him about it, always giving them a sweet smile and wave.

Arthur is quite clingy towards Julie, physically and emotionally.

Always wanting to sit next to her, get her attention, all of it. I mean, she’s the cool older sister.

He loves practicing his English with her!

He’s also like her biggest fan

He can get a little petty and upset if things don’t go his way with her . . . aka he’s super dramatic.

Arthur loves all of her cooking and baking, like he could eat it all.

First time he got really drunk, he called up Julie and cried, only crying harder when she giggled and tried to reassure him.

He’s always the last one to warm up to Julie’s significant others.

They love watching movies!

Arthur is quite attached to julie, has a fear that she will leave them.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is pretty short, but I hope it gives you a good idea of Julie’s relationship with her brothers !! She’s a family woman definitely !! Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist )

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow )

[ollie-lolly]

Hiya, Ollie! Hope you're doing good whenever ya read this. And if you're not, I have a fluffy request for you:

For the Brothers and dateables, where would they take someone for their first date, what would they do, and how would the day/night end?

Sending you hugs and cuddles, friend! Have a great day/night! ♡

Authors note: Hi I know you’ve requested this in September and I haven’t been writing in FOREVER, but I’m so happy I am finally feeling up for it again! Enjoy!! I’ll just start with the brothers first, if people still think I write decently after all these months I’ll write the letter rest! Also 700+ followers WOW I love y’all.

Lucifer💙

He likes his everything dates very organised. He plans everything out to a tea, he knows he will win you over, but it takes time if he wants you to love him exactly in the way he already fell for you. I think he would take you to a museum, then to a restaurant he somehow knew you wanted to try the food from. Making a reservation to guarantee the best table. He will subtly compliment you throughout the whole day. As a subtle way to tell you he is having a great time. At the end he will walk you to your room and bid you goodnight. His lips touching your knuckles as he kissed your hand. He is the eldest brother, but that doesn’t hold him back from thinking about you all night after the date ended. 

Mammon💛

He will NEVER admit he was nervous even asking you out, but you knew. He likes to be flexible on his dates. Really going with the flow while subtly showing off how much he likes you. I’m mostly thinking of him taking you out to go shopping together, while he secretly takes pictures for the things you find ‘to expensive’ so he could buy you them later when he will make sure his debt declines. Then if you’re that kinda person going dancing together! Either way I think you two will both end up a little tipsy at the end, Mammon accidentally giving you a kiss on the cheek as he drops you off. Remembering when he finally fully sobered up in the dead of night. He would text you about it the next morning, preying you didn’t mind and maybe would want him to give one on the lips next time.

Leviathan🧡

I’d like to think he asked to hangout in his room and if you ask if it is a date, he would throw his phone the moment he replied with: “If you’d be okay with it!”. Safe to say he is scared shitless at just the thought. He preys Asmo will help him with the fact he is sweating buckets. It will most likely be a date in his room, watching a movie or playing a video game with him you expressed interest in. He can’t even enjoy the movie or video game most of the time, because he is constantly worrying if you’re enjoying yourself or not. I think he could finally calm down the moment he would see you smile while eating the take-out you and him ordered. If you ever suggest feeding him some of your food he will be flustered and nod. Avoiding eye contact as you feed him. When the date ends he tries not to be sad you’re leaving already.

Satan💚

He finds your comfort the most important thing at all times. He is extremely considerate, who said chivalry is dead? Because then he would be dead. He is still a little nervous, but that’s because you’re so attractive to him. The date will most likely be to a book store where the two of you would pick a book for each other to read. I think then he would take you to a cat cafe. Him paying all of it with a smile. Just don’t give the cats all your attention, because he wil get a little jealous. I think he would ask to hold your hand on the later part of the date, giving you his jacket as you two walk beside a river on the way home.

Asmodeus🩷

He is over the moon. He will must look his best because he wants you to be entranced by him every second that he is with you. From the outfit, the perfume, the make up and the hair. Everything is top notch. When he sees you, in his mind you couldn’t look better. It doesn’t matter if you choose something more simple to wear and he definitely lets you know how he feels. Our sweet Asmo is most likely taking you to shop together then a self care spa at the end. He is quite touchy the whole time if you don’t mind that of course. Holding onto your arm, complimenting you, he might as well yell to the whole world he is madly in love with you. He might take you to his room by the end if you’re comfortable with it.

Beelzebub❤️

He wil be smiling throughout it all. When you would meet up at the spot he would have his usual blank face, the moment he would see you his sweet smile would appear. His bouquet of sunflowers in his slightly happy and nervous shaking hands as he gave it to you. I think you and him would do a workout class or go to a sports game together. He really pays attention to the things you like and talk about as you two talk in between breaks. Taking you to eat your favourite foods at the end and sharing desserts.

Belphegor💜

This sneaky little cow is most likely showing you the stars constellations in the planetarium on your first date. Little picknick blanket laid out as he would explain all your questions about the stars. Having lavender and chamomile tea and biscuits beside the two of you. The conversation eventually deepening to the thoughts in your heads to the memories the both of you have collected over the years. Belphie eventually placing his beloved cow pillow under your heads as the sleepiness slowly overpowers any nerves you might have had. Holding your hand as the two of you drift to sleep under the starry night above.

[justaloes]

ADRENALINE & OXYTOCIN

pairs: Aiden x gn!reader x Tyler synopsis: Aiden accidentally gets you hurt and Tyler tends to your wounds! wc: 0.9k

You and Aiden always went out together to scavenge the entire graveyard every time the two of you got bored. And that's like, every night.

Every adventure makes you feel alive and ecstatic, and doing it together with him, makes it a lot better. Despite the current challenges you were facing. However, sometimes it does get out of hand. Like how your curiosity will one day do the best of you.

Just recently, when the two of you were still roaming around inside the graveyard, you almost felt like it started to feel like a loop.

He must have felt it too, knowing him by heart, he yearned to see the outside. He wonders of how spooky it gets during shifting to the phantom dimension, or to know a better route to run to just in case, or perhaps just to spend more time with you together as you share his love of constantly living on the edge. But he was afraid that he'd drag you to a mess. He frowns at the thought but it quickly switches into a smile as he changes the topic as if it never happened.

You initiated the idea to go outside, and he immediately agreed with a yes. But stops as he worries it'd be too dangerous. Hah, you dismissed it—what could possibly go wrong?

Aiden switched over the branches as high as the phantoms couldn't reach. He looked back at you, running and heaving in towards his direction. He quickly extended his hand as he waited for you to get near then pull you up once you've latched into it.

“Y/N, over here! Climb quickly!” He looked frantic when he saw the phantom quickly gaining on your tail. He stretched his arm to the point it ached his shoulders, he grunted.

You were getting close. You heave as you almost felt relieved. You raised your hand to grab his, but as you were about to reach it, the phantom behind you clutched to your sides, pulled you back as you gasped in pain. 

The two dropped over because of the sudden stop of your chase, a cloud of dirt expands. You dig your nails into its hands as its own nails drew fresh streaks from your abdomen. You then abruptly took your medium-sized sharp knife from the holder on your upper arm, held by a black makeshift holder—where it was supposed to be a joke to be ready at all times— now a weapon to shove down its eye. It shrieks loudly, its finger clutched to the handle as it pulls it out swiftly.

During that time, Aiden had already pulled you up from the branch where he was sitting. You winced in pain as he carefully put you on your feet. “It's not safe here yet; I'll try to guide you to the wall, and you wait. I'll jump inside first so that I'll catch you then.” You nodded as you stumbled for balance a bit, Aiden led you towards the end of the branch that was coincidentally just above the walls of the graveyard.

He laughs nervously at the whole situation, “Tyler’s goin’ to kill us.”

You joined in the laugh, still clutching your sides, “Oh, you're the one who's going to actually be killed.”

You were now limping as Aiden led you to the bus. You expected the scowl face Tyler gave you the very moment it laid an eye on your pained state. He turned to Aiden, and the blonde’s breath hitched as he raised one of his hands in defeat, the other still on yours.

Tyler’s voice was very firm as he pointed his finger at Aiden and scolded him while his twin was patting his back to calm down.

Later on, when everyone calmed down, Tyler was now sitting with his legs crossed as you leaned your back on the walls of the bus. He already helped Aiden with the sore ankle he got from catching you. Hey, now, you didn't need them to say that to you, it has caused you even more worry than you've already had.

The furrows on his eyebrows were still evident, though they were still in contrast to how he handles the bandages around your torso.

He grumbles as he grabs another cotton from the blood pouring again, “How many times do I have to tell you to stop hanging out with that weirdo?”

You watched the newly served fruits and water to your side with a get-well-soon note and a little smiley face under it. You smiled, as you obviously guessed it was from Aiden.

He sighed heavily. Tyler's been overly protective of you since the day you two met. And to know that you were also dragged here together with him has his senses always on high alert.

Your eyes softened at the sight of him aiding you, sometimes you don't notice it, but when you do notice how much he cares for you, you can't help but feel like you're in a sort of debt.

You soon watched him wrap the bandages again, but cursed when fresh blood rolled down your torso again. He reached over to grab the fresh bandages, but your fingers wrapped around his hands, stopping him midway.

He frowned when he looked at you, but his eyes softened at the sight of your tears running down your eyes, “Oh—I, I'm sorry, dove… Were the bandages too tight?”

“Thank you, Tyler.” He stopped now, his eyes staring at your face for any falsehood or mistake about what you said.

You nodded and exhaled. You continued, “Thank you for caring for me and Aiden when we get into trouble. This may be a little less than what you've actually done for me, but know that I really do appreciate it. So, thank you.” You stretch the corner of your lips to your ear as you now rub your thumb on his arm.

Tyler, however, was a bit flustered about what you'd confessed suddenly. He stammers through his words, his ears turn to a hue of red as he tries to ease what he was feeling, “Then- try not to be a hero all the time. You always get yourself hurt, and... and, agh—just try to be careful next time! It's not like I could be in your aid forever.”

You heartily laughed, but soon grimaced at the pain inflicted by the wound on your tummy. Tyler was now the one laughing.

masterlist .ᐟ

[bots-and-cons]

Hello there. This isn't my first time requesting, but it is my first time requesting to you. I read your rules carefully, if I somehow still managed to get it wrong, let me know. There is human baby that is very affectionate. They are always excited to see the Autobots and always giving them a kiss on the cheek or hugging them everytime their feeling down (Platonic). Ratchet and Arcee, please and thank you.

A/N: I wrote this with the reader having a baby/toddler, that they bring to the base occasionally, so the reader is the parent in this case. I didn’t really know how else to write this. There's also this post, this post, and this post about a similar topic

~Arcee~

•When you first brought your baby to the base they were just a few weeks old, so they’ve basically been around the autobots since they were very, very young

•Arcee ended up being the baby’s favorite autobot, and she became very attached to the baby too

•It’s not like you can leave the baby alone with the bots for like the first year, at least not for longer periods of time

•A big part of that is that the autobots are all so big, and might have a hard time holding and handling the baby

•Arcee is smaller than any of the others so she has an easier time handling small creatures, such as a baby or a toddler

•Arcee thinks it’s very interesting to watch your kid grow, and she also finds it very hopeful, like how a creature as weak and fragile such as a baby, can grow into someone so resilient and strong as you

•The kid comes to think of Arcee as a part of the family, and she’s their favorite babysitter

•You’re good friends with Arcee as well, so you spend a lot of time together, and your kid of course is there too

•The kid loves to hug Arcee and be held by her, and Arcee loves holding them and keeping them safe

~Ratchet~

•Ratchet isn’t exactly ecstatic about a baby at the base, because he feels like a baby might disturb his work

•As if that doesn’t happen with the team and the kids too, but surely a baby would be too much

•But when he meets your baby for the first time, it’s an absolutely awe-inspiring moment

•Ratchet has never seen a real baby before, and they’re so tiny and fragile and… adorable?

•Sure the baby sometimes makes some unwanted noise, but in general, they’re a pretty calm and happy baby

•Ratchet looks after your baby when you’re busy with work/studies, so you can work freely

•You’re still at the base when you work, and he comes get you when he doesn’t know what to do with the baby or when they need something

•Ratchet grows very attached to the baby, and he does his absolute best to keep them safe and happy

•In a weird way, the baby also does the same for Ratchet, they give him hope about a better tomorrow

•Ratchet is like family to you and your kid, and you all take care of each other, the baby too, even if it’s more on an emotional level with them

•Sometimes Ratchet just holds the baby while he works, because he wants to be absolutely sure they’re safe

[mo0nlyte]

✨Cuddlin' with ta' brothers✨

——————————————————————————

Mostly just cuddly, not much death n gore today

——————————————————————————

Bubba

Immediately yes, would he say no?

Depends, if he's working, you'll get a hug, then dragged inside later when he's done and you'll get to sit by him with him all around you!! Holding you in a tight hug.

Not working?

Perfect time to-

Snatch

The small child, and then- what, hours later?

Drayton'll find you two either in the basement (surprisingly a decent place to sit in the back away from the bodies)

The attic, or in the corner of Bubba's room sitting together with a blanket.

(when it's not burning like the 8th circle of hell ofc)

Maybe, if you're still under like what, 30? You could possibly sneak in his room. He doesn't usually keep it locked.

And he's used to you coming in probably if you're a cuddly person. If it's too hot tho he'll plop you back in your own room tho. Usually tho, you'll wake up in Bubba's arms. His room is surprisingly not smelling of death so it's quite nice :)

He usually hugs you, and sleeps like that. Or with you on his chest, he's big, you're probably not as big, it works :)

——————————————————————————

The twins

Depends, Nubbins doesn't stay still, and Chop-Top doesn't stay asleep for long.

If Nubbins is working? Heck yeah he'll take a break and sit down with you- usually doesn't matter where. Anyway to get out of work honestly.

If- by the grace of many things happening, like Nubbins is seriously tired, and fine with being touched at the moment, sometimes he'll just like poke you till you follow him, and then you'll usually lay in his (surprisingly) clean bed, n' Chop-Top or Drayton'll find y'all on top of the blankets,

with Nubbins practically wrapped around you. Not even smothering you, just imagine a dog cuddled up in a ball? Yeah, that's kind of how he sleeps.

(he does that a lot and just expects you to know sometimes)

That, or you'll catch him while he's ranting, and you have and probably will fall asleep to him ranting, him just sitting up, while your on his lap, and going on and on about roadkill, bones, some grotesque torture method.. something or other.

He'll usually only sleep some places, he feels or deems safe. The graveyard, the hayloft of the barn in one specific area, and probably his and his twins room.

Chop-Top?

Yoink

Okay guess this is your life now

He used to do this when Nubbins was smaller. When Bubba was smaller and younger..

His sense of boundaries is somehow in the negatives. It could be worse?

He will lay down with you. That is a threat.

Usually this means his twin is either mad at him, or not close enough, or generally just too lazy to go get his twin. That or Bubba is too far

Will play music off of the radio, you and him have been known to fall asleep to rock, but he usually won't play it around you for some reason

He won't traumatize you with 'nam, that'd for the 4 am wake ups to traumatize his twin, but he will tell you stories. You'll probably sleep on his chest, he likes that, he can wrap his arms around you easier.

Of course if it's in the middle of the night, and he's having a nightmare? Both you and Nubbins have snuggled up to him to calm him down.. Bubba was able to (somewhat) quietly take a picture of that :)

Will fall asleep anywhere almost on command it's almost concerning??

Speaking of which- and this is a very rare time

Both of them might

If you're possibly crying or having a nightmare

Imagine a sandwich

Yeah it's definitely squished, but they both become boulders when they fall asleep, so hopefully you can breathe

——————————————————————————

Drayton

(a reenactment first hand, of when you were 16 and very clingy, still are)

He never leaves his door locked, unless it's daytime

He's used to the twins randomly checking if he's still alive in the middle of the night, or you poking up to ask him to come downstairs with him at an ungodly hour. But also

Begging to sleep in his bed when it gets cold.

The twins did it, Bubba did it. They all did.

He woke up. Beady soulless eyes staring up at him from the side of the bed. He quickly woke up.

"Nonononononono don't you dare look at me like that- you are 16, you aren't sleeping in my-"

Too late. You are right beside him.

An angry tired sigh later. He'll bitch you out in the morning. (He probably won't remember)

Morning came. Bubba had been searching for you guys?? Then the twins, like where did you two go

It was an hour passed breakfast before they checked Drayton's room. Drayton was still snoring, you were getting 5-star sleep, what woke you guys up was Nubbins camera going off.

Then the three decided this was way more important than breakfast, and well. Nothing really got done on the farm that day.

Drayton won't sleep outside of his room, or the couch really.

He is quite nice to cuddle tho, he's fine with you hanging on him, and he's fine with you just wanting to be held. He has had to deal with three others like ya. He'll usually rest his head on top of yours and just hold you close.

Especially if it was after a hard day and both of you were tired!!

——————————————————————————

This was just toof rotting fluff

End<3

[whorediaries-09]

say it's unforgivable

pairing- sirius black x auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- heads up, maa and papa refer to james' mum and dad :)

little train. series masterlist.

the moment he gets up from the metal chair, he realizes he's doomed. his heart aches. he has nowhere to go. with maa and papa dead he's stuck, stranded upon the lonely crevice of life. as the minutes pass by, he stands, watching as the others leave. dumbledore sits still, physically calm.

'is there anything you need to say dumbledore?' he watches as the old man slowly creeps from the chair, descending near him. he stands before sirius, his icy blue eyes hovering over his ragged form.

'the man you are sirius, i expect you'll go and try to track down harry?' he asks him, his voice low. 'i save you trouble, harry is within the safe realms of his aunt and uncle.'

'aunt and uncle?'

'lily's sister and husband.'

'WHAT!'

'calm down, he's safe. that's the only way to keep him safe. the blood connection between petunia and lily. petunia knows about this, always has known about this. she's promised to not hurt harry and keep him within safe and secure conditions until he turns into an adult.'

'i don't care dumbledore. i need to see harry potter. he's my godson, i am his legal guardian. not petunia, not her husband.'

'i know.' dumbledore's eyes twinkle for a few moments before he runs his bony hands through his long beard.

'you can join hogwarts as an assistant healer. with all the incidences you had with remus lupin, i'm sure you've got a trick or two up your sleeve.' sirius gulps.

'what?'

'you can see harry in 5 years when he joins hogwarts.'

'no. i need to see my godson now.'

'you will, when you get yourself together. take some time off for yourself sirius.'

'i don't care. i need to see him and check whether he's okay. i need to know. i don't trust petunia with how she treated lily. i need to make sure he's okay. the last time i trusted you albus, i was thrown into prison and my freedom was stolen away from me. not again will i let this happen. i'm leaving, albus.'

*-

he sits beside the coffee counter, shimmying through newspapers. ever since he'd been released, the press was after him. not wanting more attention than he'd already gotten, he decided he'd keep to the muggle world for the time being. that meant being closer to spotting harry and staying away from attention.

for the time he'd been in the wizarding world, within the creepy turns of diagon alley, hagrid had returned him his motorbike. he'd hugged the giant man, thanking him. within the span, he'd also found his mother had died a year back, leaving him to be the heir of the noble house of black. when he'd been left alone with the information of his death mother, he left a pang of joy in his heart, followed by guilt.

he loved his mother, but his mother never did. it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help but love her. or perhaps it was pity he felt for her, for she had been through the same as him. but it was him who felt the need to break free from the abuse. he hated he had to make her feel like a failed mother. while he felt guilty for feeling joy for losing her, he certainly didn't miss her. no, he was the one who got away.

he crushes the butt of the smoked cigarette, ready to explore the city of london after years of being shrouded in darkness. the need to escape from the darkness still gathers him into a haze of melancholy. he wanted to feel the cold air ripping through his locks, nipping at his skin. he wanted to see the city lights pass by as he fulfilled the need of fresh air filling up his flesh. he may not have yet found a place to stay, but he didn't feel the need to be confined within four walls.

the bell chimes again. a thursday evening didn't see many customers, the cafe deprived of hustle, resulting in a quiet cafe. the bell caught his attention, so he turned his head, watching at the door. his heart skipped a few beats, as a familiar face walked into the cafe. it was his savior.

'a salted caramel latte and a butter cookie, please,' you said to the barista, passing down the bills to fulfil the payment. he walked up to you, his heart bleeding with gratitude.

'hi,' he said, catching your attention. you brushed strands of hair behind your ear, smiling at him.

'hi, mr. black.' he knitted his brows together.

'psst! don't call me that, call me sirius.' he bent down, leaning into your ear, 'i'm out of azkaban solely because of you.' you smiled at him picking up your latte and cookie that the barista slipped across the counter.

'trust me, mr. - sirius i stand for justice.' he crumpled his fingers together, putting his hand into his pockets.

'i agree with you. uhm... fancy a walk perhaps?' he asked. your eyes brandished slowly over his features, your mind seemingly reeling with questions.

'i never thought the sirius black would walk. didn't you drive a motorbike?' he grinned, his eyes lighting up. this was the first time he'd felt the joy after so many years- he allowed himself to relish it, because there was no darkness to shroud his joy into melancholy.

'i do drive one. how did you know?' pushing open the door of the cafe, you walked into the fresh night air, as he followed you. taking a sip of your latte you replied vaguely,

'that, sirius is for me to know, and you to guess.' he grinned, seemingly enjoying your teasing behavior.

'so, you don't fancy a walk,' he stated, putting his hands into his pockets. your eyes raked over him, taking in his starkly contrasting appearance from the day you'd last seen him. within the glow of the streetlight, his high cheek bones and razor sharp jaw underneath porcelain skin rubbed with a soft stubble reflected upon his features. he was wearing a black t-shirt paired with beige slacks. he had cleaned up well within the few days. the air had already been of great favor to him.

'don't you have anyone waiting for you, sirius?' his gray eyes stared into yours before he whispered a quiet no.

'are you sure sirius? or are you too eager within your emotions of gratitude?'

'i hate how you can read through me so easily, sweetheart. but you're partly incorrect, i actually have been sitting alone here, shimmying over the things i've missed.' he moved closer to you.

'i don't think you should spent time alone, sirius. you need other people's company. human's are driven by the presence of other humans, you should be reminded of your roots, of your presence of mind. you'll go insane if you sit alone, secluded.'

'and here you are declining me a walk with you. you're human aren't you? we can interact. either ways, i've asked remus to meet me tomorrow. he says yes.' you laughed, the sound echoing amongst the cars and motorbikes which honked along the streets of london.

'so, what do you say?'

'i'm sure i could also do with a little bit of company,' you replied. your voice was low and soft, like a cool breeze amongst the salty waves of the sea. he smiled at you, wrinkles of a chronicle scarring beside his eyes. he moved closer, standing by you.

'so where shall we go?'

'where ever the city takes us.'

the city reeked of driving him crazy. till it was one hell of a drug, so he could use it up.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[fawnnbinary]

listen. Listen. miles. listen. you are Driving me to Madness. i am frothing at the mouth. i am chewing on the walls. the concept of eskel in an apron has consumed me.

i have what you might call a Blorbo Formula (jaskier is my biggest exception tbh). Big Man. muscles. violent/traumatic background, highly developed combat skills. usually (not always) slightly long hair. Big Scary Muscle Fighting Man. but in his heart, he is Soft. he wants to cook food for the ones he loves. he want to nurture them and warm them and tuck them in at night. he wants to keep them safe and fed and loved! the bucky barnes/eliot spencer/dean winchester archetype is what i’m getting at. once upon a time, before i grew up and stopped being a girl and learned what a dogwhistle was, i might have described my Ideal Blorbo as a hufflepuff (fighting type).

eskel in an apron is e v e r y t h i n g to me miles i’m going feral. this ask is not to pressure you into drawing faster, it is just to let you know that whatever eskel-based apron-induced insanity you may or may not be experiencing, i am Right There With You. godspeed.

-eskel anon

he is fucking,,, he is making tea,,,, he is a big scary witcher but his heart is soft and it is kind and he wants to retire to his home in the winters and make tea for his family and sit by the fireplace to talk to them

@proheromidoriyashouto tagging u bc u sent me the apron guy this is your doing ksdjfhksjdgh

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches

Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that

Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way

But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights

Regardless of how powerful you are

I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass

Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass

Unless of course you ask him to

He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do

THE POINT IS-

It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards

You can take a damn walk by yourself

You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband

So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you

But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it

Fucking holy weapons

That's new

Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess

*spits out blood*

Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there

He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???

Oh they're so fucked

So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you

And you do look pretty

Keep your damn hands off

Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you

If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner

Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news

Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??

BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!

But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-

Makes this face:

Oh he's getting his wife back

RIP Angel's phone 😭

He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried

"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"

Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down

It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about

On the inside he is VERY ANGRY

Even if they do bring you back he still eats them

Fuck them he never promised them anything

They took and HURT HIS WIFE

If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten

Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house

Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all

But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food

Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️

Damn this is really doing it for me

Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating

"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"

He begs to differ

"Anything for you, my dear."

Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile

Le kiss

Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage

Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm

"Now let's get you home, my darling~"

Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you

You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!

You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together

Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again

Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him

He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too

Don't remind him

Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it

[joelsgreys]

softness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Joel’s a little unsure of doing skin to skin with his newborn daughter.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. established relationship. (TW) PREGNANCY. mentions of premature birth, minor descriptions of childbirth, mentions of birth weight, it is implied that reader is breastfeeding her baby, semi accurate medical journal research, girldad! Joel, mentions of scars (Joel), mentions of insecurities and anxieties, if i missed anything, please let me know! NO MENTION OF READER’S AGE. NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER. no physical description of child except for her hair color/type. very minimal editing.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i had this outline sitting in my drafts and i decided to finally just write it out and post it. it ain’t much, but it’s honest work. it is part of the safe and sound universe.

She’d made her entrance into the world early.

About four or five weeks, the commune’s doctor thinks.

Without ultrasounds, it’d been a guessing game.

And a fucking terrifying guessing game at that.

For several months, all you could do was hope.

Hope for a smooth pregnancy.

Hope for a safe labor and delivery.

Hope for a strong, healthy baby.

When you went into labor earlier than the doctor had predicted you would, all of your hopes shattered, the pieces falling around you like shards of broken glass you couldn’t put back together even if you tried.

“No! No, it’s too soon! It’s too fucking soon!” you’d cried out, the sheer panic setting in and seeping into your bones as a warm, clear liquid dripped down the insides of your legs and pooled around your bare feet. You had been in the kitchen making Ellie breakfast and packing her lunch for school—one second you’re standing there in front of the food pantry debating with yourself on what vegetable to throw into the kid’s lunch bag with her sandwich and the next you’re calling out for help as an intense pressure nestled itself between your hips. It wasn’t until you heard a faint popping sound and then felt the gush of fluid between your thighs that you’d realized what was happening. An unmistakable first sign of labor, you’d experienced your water breaking. “This can’t be happening, it’s not time yet!”

Joel, who by some stroke of sheer stupid luck had the morning off from patrol duty, instructed Ellie to run upstairs and gather some clean clothes along with a pair of boots and the warmest coat you owned that still fit. November had brought along the first snowfall of the season—the frigid temperatures outside were anything but kind and the clinic was on the opposite side of the commune, a fifteen minute walk he wished you didn’t have to make in your condition. “I know this is real fuckin’ scary darlin’ but y’need to stay calm. I need you to stay as calm as possible. Y’think that you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

He’d been just as terrified, but he masked it well.

On the outside, he kept a calm, collected composure for your sake and for Ellie’s too, shoved aside his own fears so he could be the support you both needed, act as the glue that held yours and his little family unit together should anything were to happen. But on the inside, he was scared shitless, to say the least. He couldn’t be certain he would have the strength to hold himself together if something went wrong, if he lost you—or his unborn child.

Admittedly, it had taken him a few months to come to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again at this stage in his life. The thought of him changing diapers at his age was one he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around—but the moment he felt that first little flutter of movement one night as you lay curled up against his side fast asleep, something shifted. That night, he had stayed wide awake, his large hand splayed over your belly in hopes he would feel that little flutter again.

“Joel, I’m really fucking scared. What if it’s too early—”

“Baby, look at me.” He reached up and gently took your chin, holding it between his thumb and index finger as he coaxed your gaze to meet his own. “S’gonna be okay,” he’d assured you, softly. “If this is happenin’ now, it’s because she’s ready, alright?”

For a split second, that panic had ceased.

“She?”

Confused, Joel’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You just referred to the baby as a she, Joel.”

“I did?”

“Yeah—just now.” You’d stared at him with curiosity and took a step back, cradling your belly in both of your hands. “Do you think we’re having a girl?”

Sheepishly, he had shaken his head at you.

“No, I just—m’sorry. I ain’t all too sure why I said that.”

He truly, honestly hadn’t.

It’d slipped before he could even think about it.

But his accidental slip had been right.

After thirteen hours of grueling labor in Jackson’s small clinic, you’d given birth to a little girl, the sound of her loud wailing filling the whole room like a sweet melody eliciting a sob of joy from you and a shaky sigh of relief from Joel.

“Holy shit, she’s here! She’s actually fucking here,” Ellie breathed, her eyes going wide. Her arms were still wrapped around one of your legs—despite you warning the teenager about what she would see, it hadn’t stopped her from volunteering her assistance in the childbirth process. She watched on in a mix of both fascination and disgust as Dr. Porter, a woman in her sixties who served as Jackson’s sole physician, lifted the infant and immediately placed her onto your bare chest to clean her off. “This has gotta be the grossest, most amazing fucking thing I have ever fucking seen in my life.” Gently, she set your leg down onto the bed before walking around it to stand beside Joel. His hand was stroking your hair, his dark eyes trained on his crying newborn daughter. It was the perfect moment for Ellie to run her mouth and tease, “You’re not gonna cry, are you, Joel? I’d think you’re a lot fucking tougher than that, old man.”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered under his breath, putting an arm around her and pulling her against his side. He almost couldn’t believe this was now his life—a life he would have never even known if he hadn’t flinched twenty years ago when he had pulled the trigger.

Though she’d been born a few weeks prematurely, Rosemary Miller was deemed to be healthy—a tad underweight, but nothing to be worried about just yet, according to Jackie, the commune’s nurse. At about four pounds, eleven ounces, Rosemary was the tiniest thing you’d ever seen and somehow even tinier when Joel would cradle her in the palms of his large hands. Despite the fact that you’d been reassured that the baby’s low birth weight was nothing to be alarmed about, you and Joel had been advised it was best if you didn’t take her home until she gained a few more ounces and tipped the a scale at what the books state is a normal birth weight of five pounds, eight ounces.

“We just would feel better if she were here at the clinic where we can closely monitor her weight,” Jackie had said upon seeing the crestfallen look on your face. “Besides, you tore a little and you need time to heal as well, you know.”

Left with very little choice, you’d agreed to it.

“I’m losing it,” you say with an exasperated sigh as you stare up at the drab, gray ceiling. It’s been three days since you had given birth and all you want to do is take your daughter home. In an effort to lift your spirits, Maria had tried to warm the place up and make it feel more comfortable for you. She had swapped out the rough, scratchy bedsheet the clinic provided for you with a soft, knitted blanket she had made herself. She also took it upon herself to pack you a bag with your own clothes, a couple of books to read, and your favorite polaroids of Joel and Ellie. While it had been incredibly sweet of her to do for you, you still wanted out of that clinic sooner rather than later. “I miss our house. I miss our bed. I miss our kid.”

Joel, who’s sitting in an old, worn leather armchair tucked over in a corner of your room next to the frosted window, raises an eyebrow at you and then juts his chin towards Rosemary, who is swaddled up and sleeping soundly in the plastic bassinet beside your bed.

“Our kid’s right there, darlin’.”

You lift your head off your pillow and glare at him.

“I’m talking about Ellie, Joel.”

He chuckles and leans forward in his chair. Next to him sits a brown stuffed bunny rabbit—Ellie had traded a precious comic book for it and gifted it to the baby the same afternoon she was born. 

“She’s been comin’ to visit every day after school.”

“It’s not the same,” you pout, shaking your head.

Joel sighs and glances at the cot that he had been sleeping on for the last few days—truth be told, he misses the house too. His back certainly misses the bed. “It ain’t the same,” he agrees, tiredly. His face is worn with exhaustion. Despite you insisting that he go home and get some proper rest, he’s too stubborn to listen and only leaves the clinic to take a shower and change his clothes—and to check on Ellie, who’s got a bad habit of not doing her homework unless you or Joel nag her to get it done. “M’real sorry, darlin’. But you heard what they said. Baby’s gotta gain a little more weight before we can take her home.”

Even from where he’s sitting, he can see your eyes glaze over with tears of frustration. Since the baby was born, you’ve been very sensitive, more so than when you’d been pregnant—something he didn’t think was even possible.

“If she keeps on eatin’ the way she’s eatin’ we’ll be home by the end of the week,” Joel adds in an effort to cheer you up. “Besides, you need to heal before we make that long walk across town and back to the house, sweetheart. S’not like I can just pull up the fuckin’ minivan and drive you girls home like back in the day, y’know?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Ew, Joel. We would not have a fucking minivan.” Dabbing at your eyes with the back of your hand, you can’t help but laugh at the thought of Joel Miller behind the wheel of one of those things. Then, you realize how endearing it would be to watch as he’s loading up Rosemary’s car seat into the van, the muscles of his broad back flexing underneath his shirt as he pulled on the straps to make sure it was safe and secure. You’d climb into the backseat with her and on the way home, you would ask Joel to swing through the nearest burger joint drive through because you’re fucking starving and in need of a proper meal after being subjected to boring, bland hospital food. You shoot him a small smile. “On second thought, that doesn’t sound all that bad. Maybe we would.”

Suddenly, there’s a light knock at the door.

“Come in,” you call, careful not to be too loud.

Dr. Porter walks into the room.

She had been a primary care physician prior to the world ending, according to Maria, who a couple of months ago had given birth to her son while under Dr. Porter’s care. Maria had assured you that, even though the woman never trained in obstetrics, she always went above and beyond for all the mothers to be in the commune. She dedicated her spare time to studying, lost herself in medical books she found on the shelves of the town’s library—kind of like the one that’s currently tucked underneath her arm.

“Hi there mama,” she greets, her eyes shining brightly behind her coke-bottle glasses. Wearing jeans and a sweater, she doesn’t quite look the part—maybe she’d worn a white coat once in her life, but now it was only the old, silver metal stethoscope she had draped around her neck that gave her profession away. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m okay,” you say with a shrug. “Can’t complain.”

Over in his corner, Joel can’t help but snort.

Ignoring him, you add, “Bleeding’s slowing down.”

“Good, that’s good,” Dr. Porter tells you. “And how about this sweet little girl?” She smiles and makes her way over to the bassinet, keeping her voice low. “She eating well?”

“She is. Her last feed was about two hours ago.”

“How’s she sleeping?”

“Like a rock.”

“And you’ve been doing skin to skin as well?”

You nod. “Yes, before and after her feedings.”

“That’s perfect.” Dr. Porter beams at you with pride. “Keep it up and do it as often as possible. There are a ton of benefits of doing skin to skin with her. It’s one of the most incredible things that a mother can do for her baby. Actually—” She pauses for a moment and pulls the book out from under her arm. “I have been doing a bit of research and as it turns out, there are also benefits if dad does skin to skin with baby as well.”

Joel stiffens slightly in his chair. “S’cuse me?”

“I found this book in the library. It talks about all of the benefits of fathers doing skin to skin with their newborn. It was written some time in the nineties and studies were still being conducted, but I really believe they were onto something.” She hands you the book. “For being preterm, Rosemary’s healthy, but it doesn’t do any harm to try whatever you can to make sure that she builds up that immune system and stays healthy, especially now that winter’s here.” Flashing you a smile, she informs you, “I went ahead and folded the pages for you and made some notes. There’s a few benefits in it for Joel as well. Could be worth a try.”

After telling you she’ll be back in a couple hours to check on you and to weigh the baby, Dr. Porter excuses herself from your room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Curiously, you open the book to the first page that she’d folded for you and start reading the first passage out loud.

“Ongoing studies have found skin to skin between father and child have similar benefits to those that come from skin to skin between mother and child. It regulates the baby's body temperature, blood sugar, and stress levels.” You pause and look over at Joel, who appears thoroughly unimpressed. “It also helps to regulate the baby’s heart rate and breathing rate. Joel, this is incredible! I think you should—”

“No.”

Joel winces. He doesn’t mean to sound so curt.

Your face falls. “Why not?”

“That’s for mothers,” he grumbles. “Y’know, for feedin’ the baby.”

“It’s for much more than just that.” You shake your head and flip over to the next page, scanning both the text as well as Dr. Porter’s notes. “It says here that it also helps the baby pick up their father’s natural scent and promotes bonding.”

“Sweetheart, I can bond with her just fine with my fuckin’ shirt on, there ain’t no need for me to—what in the world are you doin’?” Perturbed, Joel watches you as you take a handful of your blanket, throwing it off yourself. He jumps up to his feet the second he realizes that you’re about to get out of bed. “Don’t—”

“Oh relax, Joel. I should be moving more anyway,” you say, wincing as you sit up and swing both legs over the side of the bed. It isn’t so much pain as it is discomfort—everything had been shoved up and out of place for months, after all. As soon as you stand, Joel’s there at your side, one hand on your arm and the other on your back, trying to guide you back onto the bed. You lightly swat him away with your hand. “Joel, stop fussing over me! I’m fine!”

“Baby, y’need to lie down right now—”

“Take off your shirt.”

His hands fall away from you and his eyes widen.

“What?”

“Take off your shirt and go sit down in the chair.”

The blood drains from his face and he pales. 

It’s not that Joel doesn’t want to do it. He does.

He’ll do anything if it’s for his daughter’s benefit.

Still.

The idea of laying his innocent little baby girl on him without his shirt on—it’s uncomfortable. His chest and stomach are littered with several scars. Rough, raised patches of skin that serve as reminders of a brutal past he doesn’t want her finding out about, not for as long as he can fucking help it.

Rosemary deserves to be wrapped up in softness.

The softness of your smooth, blemish free skin.

The softness of the blankets you’d knitted for her.

The softness of the stuffed bunny Ellie had given her.

Joel?

He isn’t soft.

Nothing about him is soft.

Even holding her in his hands for the first time had been something of a battle. Hands that once snapped necks and slit throats didn’t deserve to hold something so pure and innocent.

“This sounds really promising, Joel.” Slowly, you make your way over to the plastic bassinet, ignoring the dull ache between your thighs. With your back to him, you carefully begin to unswaddle the baby. You try not to wake her as you peel off her warm, knitted onesie and matching socks, leaving her in nothing but her teeny, tiny cloth diaper. Gingerly, you pick her up and turn around to face him. “If Dr. Porter thinks we should try it, then it’s for a good reason, don’t you think so?”

Joel swallows harshly.

“What is it?”

“S’just that I—I’ve got scars everywhere, y’know?”

Your expression instantly softens for him. “Joel, you’re her daddy,” you remind him, gently. “She’s not going to care about things like that.” Pausing, it suddenly occurs to you that it��s not just about his scars. It’s about something else, something that runs so much deeper for Joel. He’d done what he had done in order to survive, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live with the shame—the guilt and the regret. Rosemary begins to fuss awake and you lightly bounce her in your arms as you assure him, “She isn’t going to care about your past or what you’ve done. Her love for you is going to be as unconditional as yours is for her. She’s going to love you no matter what, Joel. I can promise you that.”

His jaw clenches and his lips press into a tight line.

Rosemary starts to cry—she’s cold, no doubt.

The old heater in the clinic hardly runs.

And when it does, it breaks down.

“Joel, please,” you beg over her wails. “Just try it? For me? For her?”

Sighing in defeat, Joel shrugs out of his jacket and he tosses it aside. With trembling fingers, he begins to unbutton his green flannel shirt—his long sleeved thermal henley comes off next and then he takes off the cotton t-shirt he wears underneath for an added layer of warmth during the winter season. As he stands there shirtless, he shivers and his flesh erupts with goosebumps. “Wait,” he mutters as he watches you take a step forward. He drags the armchair away from the window. He then sits down, his heart racing and the anxiety flaring as he gives you a subtle nod of his head. “Okay.”

You walk over to him and place her on his bare chest.

The second he feels Rosie’s soft skin on his, there’s a shift.

It’s similar to the one he felt when he first felt her move in your belly.

He calms and his heart slows—his nerves dissipate. 

And Rosemary stops crying.

She scrunches, curls up on his chest, and yawns.

Grimacing, you lean over and pick up his flannel shirt. “Here,” you say, draping it over them as a makeshift blanket. “How’s that feel?”

“Think she likes it, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his fingers delicately brushing over her soft tufts of dark brown hair. His touch causes the newborn’s lip to curl and he catches a glimpse of the prominent dimple in her left cheek—the same dimple Sarah had inherited from him, Rosemary had inherited too. There’s a dull ache in his chest, but somehow, he still smiles as she peers up at him with sleepy eyes. “Hi, Rosie Posie. S’me, babygirl. Your daddy.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, you stifle a giggle.

“What?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at you.

“She’s not the only one who seems to like it.”

Joel chuckles, admitting, “S’pretty relaxin’.” He presses his nose into his daughter’s curls and inhales deeply, relishing in the warm, sweet milky scent of her. After a minute, his smile falters slightly. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really believe it?”

Your brow furrows. “Believe what?”

“That she’s gonna love me no matter what.”

“Of course I do.”

“How can you be so sure ‘bout it?”

Carefully, you perch yourself on the arm of the chair and press a gentle kiss against his right temple, your lips brushing over his scar. “Because I just am, Joel.”

Somehow, he believes it—he believes you.

Joel tilts his head back, puckering his lips.

Grinning, you give him a chaste kiss before standing. “I’m going to see if I can get a nap in before her next feed,” you tell him, padding back over to the bed. “Do you think you’ll be okay with her for a while, just the two of you?”

“I think we’ll be just fine,” he murmurs, gingerly stroking Rosemary’s silky cheek with his finger. “Yeah. We’ll be just fine, won’t we, babygirl?”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[chxrryhansen]

write something guy wrenchingly sad about how rafe’s dad treats him and he calls you in the middle of the night to comfort him. he ends up coming to your house or you go over to tanneyhill to be with him :)

this is so s1 rafe coded🥺my poor deprived baby😔

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

its 2am when your phone buzzes, waking you up from a deep sleep. rafes name flashes across your phone, sending you into alarm. worry courses through your veins making you sit upright in shock, quickly pressing answer.

his ragged breaths are the first thing you hear as you pick up, his sobs echoing down the phone. “hey-hey baby, rafe, whats going on? are you okay?” you ask, hurriedly.

he sniffles “m-my dad.. we g-got into a huge fight and i-i don’t know wh-what to do.” you can sense his tension through the phone. rafe was never good and expressing his emotions, he preferred showing himself through actions rather than words. so him calling you at this hour and actually telling you what was wrong, you knew it had to be serious.

“oh my sweet boy, why don’t you come over? or i can come and pick you up? just stay calm for me baby, can you do that for me?” you soothe. which appears to calm him slightly as his breaths begin to slow.

“uh, yeah, yeah i-i can do that. i’ll drive, don’t w-want you leaving the house alone this late at night.” running his fingers through his greasy locks, shaking his head at how stupid he feels, crying. especially in-front of you, to you. and even though he’s in no state to drive, you know better than to argue with him on this, his innate need to protect you still shining through even in his most vulnerable moments.

“okay rafe…i’ll see you soon, drive safe for me baby.”

within 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door, you race downstairs unlocking the door in a hurry, the sight is anything but pleasant.

rafes nose is bust, dry blood caked around his mouth, a clear indication that the fight with his dad was anything but civilised. and this wasn’t the first time either. his tears staining his cheeks and his face flustered, a light shade of pink, his hair sticking to his forehead and his arms shaking as he looks down at you in embarrassment.

“oh, sweetheart.” you whisper gently, pulling him inside and into a hug, slowly he wraps his arms around your waist as his sobs begin to deepen, his heart rate increasing rapidly as his body racks with his cries. he leans down, burrying his face into your neck, sniffling so he doesn’t end up leaving snot all in your hair- not that you care, him being your main priority.

“you wanna’ talk about it?” you coax, your voice soft. he shakes his head, his grip on your waist tightening. you lift your hand, intertwining your fingers in his locks, stroking his head gently, soothing his desperate cries.

“that’s okay, your okay. let it all out…my sweet baby, i’m here for you. and i always will be, you know that right? i’m never leaving you, no matter what. we always stick together, you hear me, baby boy? always.”

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 ✩࿐

pairings: alhaitham, childe, cyno, heizou, kazuha, scaramouche, tighnari, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, comfort in a way, established relationship, protective boyfriends, persistent stranger won’t stop trying to ask you out

summary: you and your boyfriend attend a party together. however, a bothersome man keeps trying to flirt with you.

a/n: unfortunately icky people are unavoidable, but the idea of being protected from them is just <3 anyway, i hope you enjoy reading this!

ALHAITHAM

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

Those are the words you repeat to yourself over and over, echoing through your head like an overplayed melody. It takes everything in you to remain in control of your emotions and refrain from slapping the audacious man standing in front of you.

You want nothing more than to leave peacefully before things escalate to a dreadful point of no return.

And amidst all of your wishing, a saving grace comes to aid you. In other words, your boyfriend turns up at just the right moment, although you expected nothing less from someone as perceptive as Alhaitham.

“Is there a problem here?” Alhaitham asks as he walks up to you. His voice is as cold as the glacial essence of bygone winters. It’s not unusual for Alhaitham to speak in such a tone, but somehow his words feel more pointed right now.

“No,” the man blurts out quickly, regarding Alhaitham with a look filled with both curiosity and apprehension. “I was just trying to ask them out.” He gestures at you, and you internally cringe at his antics.

He really is shameless.

However, Alhaitham is unfazed by the stranger’s actions. He simply sighs and takes your hand in his.

“Good because we’ll be taking our leave now,” Alhaitham says monotonously. He begins to pull you away, not sparing so much as a glance back at the man you had been conversing with just seconds prior.

“Wh — Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” the man exclaims, trying his best to catch up with both you and Alhaitham.

Despite his efforts, he’s swept away by a tide of partygoers as Alhaitham leads you through crowds of people. It almost feels as though he had planned an escape before approaching you, observing, analyzing, and carefully calculating in a meticulous manner in order to determine the best course of action.

Once the two of you are sure you’ve successfully evaded the stranger, Alhaitham looks you up and down, scanning your body for any sign of injury. He ensures you’re alright before speaking.

“After that experience, I doubt you want to remain here any longer,” he says. Although he’s still quite stoic, there’s a certain lofty quality to his voice that makes it feel softer than it had back when he had confronted the irritating man. “I suggest that we leave right now. I was beginning to get a headache from the constant noise anyway.”

You crack a small smile. Alhaitham is as blunt as always, and that’s what you love about him. Your boyfriend is incredibly straightforward, and while other people would see his behaviour as callous or insensitive, you know that this is just how he is.

“Take me away,” you tell Alhaitham, looking into his eyes, gazing at your reflection within hues reminiscent of a breathtaking oasis in the middle of a desert. 

It’s rather fitting. Alhaitham is your refuge. With him, you feel safe, and you’re sure that if any similar situations arise in the future, he’ll be by your side to defend you.

With those words, your boyfriend leads you out the front door of the party venue, and you escape into the night, losing yourselves in the bliss found under the ephemeral lamplight of a secluded night, warmed by each other’s touch.

CHILDE

“Hey, you,” you hear a familiar voice speak from behind you. You look back to see strands of messy ginger hair resting above ocean blue eyes. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were making my lover uncomfortable.” Childe enunciates the words “my lover”, making it clear that you’re already taken.

Your boyfriend moves between you and the man, shielding you.

You sigh. If this escalates any more, it won’t end well. You know Childe well enough to predict that the confrontation could get rather… heated if you didn’t stop it. However, you feel as though you can’t do anything.

“Who said they were yours?” the man talks back, smirking at Childe. He knows Childe is challenging him.

You flinch. Childe seems to be getting more and more irritated by the moment. As you glance at your lover, you notice a blaze of blue embers beginning to flare within his irises.

“Listen carefully, comrade,” Childe says, leaning in closer to the man. Your boyfriend towers over the stranger in an almost comical manner. “They’re my partner, and if you don’t stay away from them,” Childe pauses, “well, let’s just say you’ll find the consequences quite unpleasant.”

Childe smiles, and although he maintains a friendly façade, the intent of his words is not lost on the man. An icy chill permeates the air, and you feel shivers go down your spine.

Although he’s dense, the man before you seems to sense the change in atmosphere as well. He mutters something under his breath, glares at your boyfriend one last time, and leaves. 

“Serves him right,” Childe chuckles. “I’m glad you’re safe now.,” your boyfriend tells you, giving you a kiss on the forehead. “If anyone ever bothers you again, just tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

CYNO

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your boyfriend’s deep voice interjects, throwing the man standing in front of you off. He’s standing behind the stranger, gazing deep into your eyes with a look that reassures you that everything will be okay.

You smile. As expected, Cyno is as vigilant as ever, especially when it comes to your safety. Nothing ever slips past him.

“Why do you want to know?” the persistent man replies, not bothering to turn around and face Cyno. It seems that he hasn’t recognized Cyno yet because you’re sure that if he did, he would back off in an instant.

“Perhaps because I’m the General Mahamatra?” Cyno refutes dryly. It’s almost laughable how casual Cyno sounds because as the stranger hears your boyfriend’s words, his features twist into an expression of shock, undergoing a metamorphosis where all hints of smugness are replaced by nothing short of pure horror.

The stranger slowly turns away from you to face Cyno. As soon as he catches a glimpse of your lover, he freezes. Soon enough, fear causes tremors to wrack his body, and he averts his gaze in order to look anywhere but directly at Cyno.

“What’s wrong?” Cyno asks the stranger. “You’re not quite as bold now as you were a few seconds ago.” Your boyfriend acts clueless, taunting the man slightly. Although it’s barely noticeable, you see his lips turn up ever so slightly in a subtle grin for a few seconds before the expression vanishes entirely.

“I — I’m sorry, General Mahamatra,” the man says. He shrinks back under Cyno’s gaze. “Please forgive me.”

Cyno sighs.

“I’ll let you off easy this time,” he mutters, “but if I catch you harassing anyone else…” Cyno trails off, leaving the rest to the man’s imagination.

The man swallows a lump in his throat and nods furiously.

“And as for you,” Cyno makes eye contact with you, “I’ll escort you away from this man,” he says.

He gestures for you to follow him, and as he leads you away from the stranger, you feel your nerves beginning to settle. The erratic beating of your heart, the restless thoughts battering your weary mind like waves tossling a ship, and the overwhelming urge to simply run away all cease to exist. Instead, a sense of safety floods over you. It’s a calmness like no other, akin to the ambience encapsulated in quiet dusks spent with the one you love most.

Once you’re far enough away, Cyno laces your fingers with his. Although no words are exchanged, you know it’s an act of comfort, and after the hectic events of the day, you find that it’s exactly what you need.

HEIZOU

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Heizou’s voice interrupts the conversation between you and the stranger trying to pursue you.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your boyfriend comes up to you.

“You have a good eye,” Heizou says, causing confusion to riddle your mind. What is he saying? Is he encouraging the stranger to continue flirting with you?

“Thanks,” the man replies. However, his eyes narrow after a few seconds. “But are you going to try to steal them away from me?”

Heizou chuckles. “Well, it’s not like they’re yours, right?”

The stranger’s features twist into an expression of shock, and as he’s lost in a surprised daze, Heizou glances over at you and winks. You sigh. Leave it to Heizou to come up with a cheeky method to get you out of a predicament.

The man rolls his eyes, and then turns his attention back to you. He plasters a smirk onto his face.

“Come on, darling,” the man says, his voice is sickly sweet, dripping with a venomous nectar, “I’m much more attractive than this idiot, right?” The stranger gestures at Heizou, and you have to force yourself to stifle a giggle.

“I disagree,” you tell him, causing the smug expression to fall from his features.

The man opens his mouth to protest, but no sound comes out.

“Man alive,” Heizou says. “I guess I’m just far too charming to resist.” He grins at you playfully and inches closer towards you.

The stranger scowls, and turns away.

“Fine,” he sighs. “You win.”

Your boyfriend kisses you on the cheek as the man walks away. You look into his verdant eyes and grin at him, thankful that he was able to get you out of the troubling situation, even if his ways were slightly unorthodox.

KAZUHA

“Excuse me, love, is this man bothering you?” Kazuha asks as he walks up to you. He subtly wraps an arm around your shoulders, making it clear to everyone in the room that you’re taken.

You feel the tension within your body alleviate as you’re enveloped in your boyfriend’s warm embrace. Even now, his touch is simultaneously as comforting as the sun on a euphoric spring day and as calming as a gentle autumnal breeze. The discomfort that you had previously felt due to the unfamiliar man trying to flirt with you dissipates.

“Oh, is he your boyfriend?” the man sneers, glaring at Kazuha with eyes that speak of malicious intent. He shuffles slightly closer to you, and you feel shivers run down your spine.

“He is. Now will you leave me alone?” you respond bluntly, hoping that your words will be enough to make the man back off.

You feel Kazuha’s grip on you tighten. Your heart melts when you realize he’s trying to protect you. He can read you like a book, and he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend you could ever ask for, unlike the man standing before you.

You look over at Kazuha, and you notice that his crimson eyes have narrowed, the stars once filling his irises turning into pointed daggers. It’s almost disturbing to see him this way. You’re so used to seeing your boyfriend with a look of pure adoration dancing through lakes of soft red, but now he looks nothing short of intimidating.

It seems that the stranger feels the same way as you because as you look back at him, you see his gaze lock with Kazuha’s. He shrinks back, and he begins to step away.

“Okay, okay, fine,” the man scowls. “I’m out of your league anyway!” He quickly turns around and walks away.

You and Kazuha watch as he leaves. Once he disappears back into the crowd, Kazuha speaks.

“Are you alright, my love?” Kazuha asks you.

You smile contently when you hear his voice soften once more. You’re so lucky to have a caring and kind boyfriend who always has your best interest in mind.

“I’m fine, and it’s all because of you,” you say. “Thank you, Kazuha.”

SCARAMOUCHE

Discomfort flows through your veins, and shivers run down your spine. The man before you is making you feel unparalleled discomfort, and at this point, you’re wondering why your boyfriend hasn’t stepped in.

You can see him in the edges of your vision. His hair, spun of midnight, sits atop porcelain skin, and most strikingly of all, a gargantuan hat obscures his eyes. As expected, he’s sitting in a secluded corner, away from all the action, but you know he’s keeping an eye on you.

“There’s no need to act so shy,” the man tells you, stepping closer to you. He smirks at you, and you feel nothing short of disgust. “I’m friendly. I promise.”

The stranger leans in, and he’s about to wrap an arm around your shoulder when all of a sudden, someone grabs his wrist.

“Care to explain what you were trying to do with my lover?” Scaramouche hisses at the man. 

When you look over at your boyfriend, you notice that there’s a certain glint in his eyes. It’s dangerous. He looks as though he’s ready to do almost anything to defend you from the unfamiliar man.

Although the stranger is stunned for a few moments, he quickly snaps out of his daze and chuckles.

“This is ridiculous,” the man says, sneering at Scaramouche.

This is not going to end well.

“Why would I feel threatened by someone like you?” the stranger glances down at Scaramouche with disdain dancing through his irises. While it’s true that Scaramouche is rather short in stature compared to the man, you think that he’s underestimated your boyfriend’s strength.

The stranger attempts to pull his wrist out from Scaramouche’s grip, but Scaramouche only tightens his hold. It’s in that moment that you see the unfamiliar man’s eyes go wide with fear and uncertainty.

“Do you really think I’m stupid enough to pick a fight I can’t win?” Scaramouche retorts.

The stranger seems to shrink under the glare hosted within your boyfriend’s indigo hues. Although Scaramouche’s eyes usually resemble a serene night sky speckled with entire galaxies of stars when he’s with you, his softer side has now vanished. Instead, his irises are filled with a coldness that the majority of people who cross him are familiar with.

Scaramouche smirks.

“Listen closely because I’ll only say this once,” your boyfriend hisses in a low tone, indiscernible to the party-goers around you, and yet when his voice reaches your ears, it almost feels as though it’s been amplified. “Leave me and my partner alone. Lay another finger on them, and there will be far worse consequences.”

Upon hearing Scaramouche’s words, the man nods furiously.

You almost laugh.

Even though he tried to appear all tough earlier, the stranger has been reduced to nothing more than a trembling coward in the presence of your boyfriend.

“Now, run along,” Scaramouche releases the man from his grasp, waving his hand as an indication for the stranger to get out of his sight. “Take this as a warning.”

Without another word, the man scrambles away, nearly tripping over himself in his panicked state. Once he’s finally gone, you hear your boyfriend breathe out a sigh of relief.

“What a bother,” he says. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Thank you for protecting me.”

You lean in towards your boyfriend and give him a quick kiss as a reward. His lips are soft and as warm as ever, and butterflies dance around in the pit of your stomach, eliciting feelings of absolute bliss within your heart.

As you pull away, you note that a shade of red has dawned upon his cheeks, tinting his pale skin a hue reminiscent of vivid sunsets.

TIGHNARI

“Excuse me. Is it just me, or does the person you’re talking to appear extremely uncomfortable?” Tighnari asks, coming up to you and narrowing his eyes at the man pestering you. His tone isn’t the friendliest, but you don’t blame him. After all, it’s difficult to remain calm when a stranger is persistently flirting with your significant other.

The man chuckles, completely disregarding Tighnari’s words and turning his attention back to you. He smirks at you and then speaks.

“You’re not uncomfortable, right gorgeous?” he says, looking at you with an expression that sends shivers down your spine. It’s ironic. He insists that you’re alright, yet you’re feeling more and more unsettled by the second. Thankfully, your boyfriend is here to help.

“Take a closer look at their body language,” Tighnari sighs, staring intently at the man.

Although the stranger does take a few seconds to look you over, he doesn’t seem to notice anything. Instead, he simply rolls his eyes and turns back to Tighnari in order to refute him once more.

“I don’t see anything wrong,” the man scoffs, glaring daggers at your lover. He’s beginning to become slightly hostile, and it seems Tighnari can tell because as the stranger steps closer towards you, Tighnari wraps a hand firmly around your wrist and pulls you behind him.

“Since you’re not sensible enough to discern that you’re bothering them,” Tighnari gestures at you, his gaze steeling into the embodiment of desolate winter flurries as he turns his focus back to the man, “we’ll be taking our leave.”

Before the stranger can protest, Tighnari drags you away. He leads you into a crowd, and as you walk, you begin to feel disoriented. However, you assume it’s all part of your boyfriend’s plan to lose the man. Every left and every right begins to feel the same, but eventually, you end up outside the venue in a breathtaking spot where a gentle zephyr causes leaves to sing songs of blissful serenity and thousands of stars dazzle atop a canvas of dark night.

“Thank you,” you say to Tighnari once the two of you stop. As you meet his gaze, you notice that his expression has softened, and his eyes reflect the majestic skies above.

“Don’t thank me,” he tells you. “I was just doing what any good lover would do.”

He pulls you into an embrace. In the midst of evening frigidness, his touch causes a tepidness to blossom — a tepidness you wish to indulge in until sunrise paints the sky shades of pink and orange.

XIAO

Right now, you need Xiao more than ever, but unfortunately for you, he’s not here.

Xiao had left earlier in order to get some fresh air. You agreed to let him go upon seeing the distress and discomfort swimming through his warm amber hues. He told you he would be back soon, and you hope that he’ll stay true to his promise because at the moment, you just want him to show up and save you.

You just have to hold out until he returns.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out with me?” the stranger before you asks, gazing at you with pleading eyes. You grimace under the weight of his stare, a look that feels so unbearably heavy upon your conscience.

“Sorry, I have a boyfriend.” You force the words out, trying your hardest to remain civil, even in the face of such a predicament.

The man’s eyes darken and fill with shadows reminiscent of the essence of night. Your body tenses, and a feeling of anxiousness begins to fill your heart, causing it to beat in a panicked frenzy.

“Are you lying to me?” he asks.

But just as things appear as though they’re about to escalate, you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” a calm voice questions you.

It’s Xiao. He’s here, and upon realizing that, a sense of security washes over you. Your boyfriend is back, and now you have actual proof that you’re already taken.

“Xiao!” you exclaim, heart filling with elation as you glance over at him. At the moment, he looks more handsome than ever. Party lights accentuate his dark hair with various shades of the rainbow, and his irises contain dandelion hues that glow as brightly as ever. You feel nothing short of relieved to see him.

Your boyfriend looks back at you, and when you make eye contact with him, reassurance flickers through his gaze.

You’re going to be alright.

Xiao slides his hand down your arm in order to interlace your fingers together. His warmth momentarily causes you to forget all the worry that had once plagued your mind, and the tension within you unravels and dissipates, dissolving under rays of golden comfort.

Xiao looks over at the man, who appears to be frozen in shock and embarrassment. He sighs and tugs on your hand gently, signaling to you that now is the perfect time to make your escape.

You allow your boyfriend to pull you away, weaving in and out of a crowd of partygoers. He pulls you away from the commotion, and before you know it, the two of you are together alone in a secluded spot on the roof of the venue.

Xiao wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in an embrace akin to the caress of the luminous moon above. It’s comforting, and after all the turmoil, you feel like everything is alright once more.

to be honest, this probably isn’t my best work, but i hope you liked reading it! thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this, please reblog or comment!

[itaipava]

— f1 boys as your boyfriends.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS:

he’s the fun and cheerful kind of boyfriend. the kind that spams you with his silly internet discoveries, like an interesting article or a tiktok video or random vlogs. the kind of boyfriend who calls you ‘beautiful’ all the time, even when you’re not looking or feeling good. the kind of boyfriend who gets over fights easily - the kind of boyfriend who makes it hard to be mad at him because he’s so genuine and generous. the kind of boyfriend who praises you constantly and has a genuine admiration for you. the kind of boyfriend who makes you feel heard and understood. the kind of who suddenly drags you into a store to buy cheap plastic ‘promise rings’ and then asks you as a joke; when the two of you stop having a good laugh, he says with a soft, content smile, “you know... i’m really going to do this one day.”

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO:

is the kind of boyfriend that lifts your mood and makes you feel lighter just being around him. he’s very open with his physical affections and words - probably the one who says ‘i love you’ first and he does it at the most random moment and with the purest beam of light on his face that makes your heart melt.  the kind of boyfriend who shows you off to friends;  you often hear “daniel don’t shut up about you, please help me” or “he’s so in love with you, it’s disgusting”. the type who calls you out of the blue and drags you off on unplanned dates - he’s sometimes the reason you end up neglecting your work, but he makes it up by helping you get through later.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ:

is the kind of boyfriend who still looks at you with the same passionate gaze, no matter how long you’ve been together. the kind of boyfriend who picks you up wherever you are because he doesn’t want you to be alone, especially late at night. he is more of a listener in the relationship, but he also speaks his mind and values honesty. the kind of boyfriend who suddenly blurts out ‘you’re so beautiful’ while watching you laugh with your friends; even when others stop and turn to him, it doesn’t bother him, because it’s just the truth. the kind of boyfriend who kisses you a lot on the forehead and temple. the type of boyfriend who makes you feel safe, welcomed and protected just by being around him.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC:

he’s the kind of boyfriend who pays attention at you even when you’re not looking at him, and unconsciously knows all the little habits you have. the kind of boyfriend who not only knows your little quirks on the surface but also understands you so deeply that you sometimes think he can read your mind. the kind of boyfriend who likes to sit beside you in silence while you do your own thing. the kind of boyfriend who tells you to go to bed early but also calls you and you end up staying up late because the conversation flows so naturally when you talk to him. the kind of boyfriend who loves watching you sleep while gently stroking your cheek with his thumb; your peaceful and lovely sleeping face makes him feel calm, as if he is right where he should be.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON:

he’s the very cuddly, relaxed and comfortable type of boyfriend to be with. he sends sweet little messages during the day to see how you are doing. he is also very tolerant and open-minded. the type who always seems to know what you’re feeling - he’s good at noticing small changes in your voice, expressions, habits or mannerisms, so “i’m fine” lies don’t really work with him. he’s so affectionate, always making sure you’re healthy and eating well. the kind that thinks a lot about the future together. the kind who marathons your favorite movies with you. the kind that brings you chocolate, snacks you like and other necessities when you have your period - comforts you and makes you smile when you have mood swings. the type of boyfriend who looks at you with so much love and affection that makes your friends fall in love with your relationship. the type of boyfriend who supports you in everything, but also gives you advice and helps you overcome your problems and difficulties. the type of boyfriend who makes his love for you obvious in everything he does for you.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the “best friend” type of boyfriend. he can be a little shy and awkward about showing his affection, especially at first, but there’s also this feeling of comfort around him. the kind of boyfriend who treats you like he’s known you forever, but still blushes and gets nervous whenever you praise him or kiss him randomly. more like a listener, but he’s so considerate when he talks; the kind that asks questions you never thought of or that no one asked before. the kind who have a verbal habit of saying “we” instead of “i” because subconsciously include you in most of his future plans - no matter how big or small. the kind that gives you so many kisses on the forehead. and whenever he hugs you, you can feel all his love for you, you can feel at home.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN:

he’s the kind of boyfriend who likes to take you everywhere he goes: his favorite park, favorite restaurant, favorite cafe, favorite record store. the kind that remembers almost everything you like and don’t like, which makes him amazing when it comes to buying gifts, among other things. the kind of boyfriend who remembers your hours or when you’re free and calls you at those times because he wants to hear your voice. if you don’t, he likes to leave voice messages. honestly very sincere. he’s the kind of boyfriend who lets you use him as his personal pillow all the time; no matter where you are, if he sees you dozing, he won’t think twice before letting your head rest on his lap or shoulder. the kind of boyfriend who lovingly calls you an ‘idiot’, but you know, his idiot.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Eddie does this... thing. Steve isn't sure if there's a name for it. Or if it's just a thing. Robin always jokes that Eddie's autism is showing. And he just snorts at her and shakes his head, but he keeps doing it, his cheeks tinted pink.

He counts things.

They aren't always things everyone can see. About half the time Eddie is just counting in his head. But he mumbles the numbers outloud, barely audible. But Steve hears it. Steve can't hear much, most of the time, but he somehow always manages to hear Eddie counting. Or at least notices his lips moving, numbers rolling off them genlty.

It calms him down. Steve noticed that fast. Eddie would count his breathing during panic attacks and then when he helped Steve or Robin through their panic attacks, and somewhere along the line, Steve just started,  counting along with him.

Not outloud. And Eddie hadn't noticed him nodding along to the counting, not yet at least. But it never failed. Eddie would start counting and Steve's brain would follow along happily.

They're sitting on Eddie's couch. It's the middle of summer. The air outside is hot and sticky. The air in the trailer isn't much better. But Steve had brought over his personal air conditioner that had been sitting in the garage not being used for years. Eddie had protested but Steve refused to take it back.

The living room was cooler than it had been the last few days. The sun had just gone down. Eddie's thigh was pressed against his, like it normally was these days, heat or not. Eddie would sit himself next to Steve, their sides smooshed together. Steve hadn't moved away, not once, despite the heat.

Eddie was wearing a cut off shirt, Steve was in jean shorts and a lightweight yellow t-shirt. Some movie Steve had never seen was on the tv, but all Steve could focus on was the way Eddie was pressed against him. The warmth of his skin seeping into his ribs.

And then Eddie starts counting.

Steve smiles to himself. Following along. Glancing at Eddie carefully when his counting pauses, like he was searching for the next thing he was counting. Steve had never been brave enough to ask about it. Was just happy Eddie felt safe enough around him to let him hear it at all.

And then Eddie's fingers hit Steve's arm and he can't breathe. Eddie's finger tips walk up his arm, pressing genlty at certain points as they go. Steve's heart flutters when Eddie's fingers press up under his shirt, curl in the material and shove it up as Eddie mumbles,

"Can I just-" between numbers. He smiles when he gets Steve's sleeve up over his shoulder, his fingers poking at Steve's skin as he counts. And it clicks.

He's counting Steve's freckles.

His fingers dancing over his skin as he counts, whispering numbers as he turns on his couch cushion, his knee pressing hard into Steve's thigh. Steve doesn't care. Steve doesn't feel it.

All Steve can feel is Eddie's breath ghosting over his warm skin as he counts. His chilly fingertips, and warm breath, causing goosebumps to spead, making Steve shiver.

He swallows, hard, as Eddie's fingers poke the moles on his neck. Steve smiles when Eddie whispers to himself.

"Lil vampire bite." He says, moving one finger across them genlty. Steve clenches his fists, presses them into his thighs, tries to stay still. To let Eddie stay in this world he's in. Because he's lost right now. Steve knows he is. He's a touchy feely guy, but this, this is different.

He's lost in his counting. Lost in Steve. It's fucking intoxicating. Steve could live in this bubble forever, all of Eddie's attention on him like he's the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

Steve reminds himself to breathe at the wrong moment. Eddie's fingers move over his cheek, he's almost reached thirty, and Steve honestly didn't know he had that many freckles and moles. But he learns new things about himself from Eddie everyday. He sucks in air as Eddie's fingers press into his cheek and Eddie startles.

His hand jerks back, his eyes flutter and then lock onto Steve's. Because he'd been watching Eddie. Watching Eddie look at him. And Eddie swallows hard, his fist clenching in the air before he pulls it to his chest. Holds it there with his other hand, his cheeks now a deep pink, Steve can see it crawling up to his ears.

"Shit. Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. Fuck." He breathes, looks into his lap. And Steve smiles. Can't help it. He reaches out, his fingers curling around Eddie's wrist.

Eddie's eyes snap to him, wide, and nervous, as he watches Steve move his hand back to his face. He presses Eddie's palm to his cheek, nuzzles into the touch.

"You can keep going. You were at... twenty seven, I think." Steve whispers, not wanting to break the quiet bubble they've settled into. Eddie blinks at him. Steve feels his fingers twitch against his face.

"Twenty....seven?" Eddie says it like a question. Unsure. Confused.

"You were counting again." Steve says, leans further into Eddie's hand. He hears Eddie's breath shutter.

"I was touching you." Eddie says, his brows furrowing, like he's still confused.

"I know. I liked it." Steve assures, nodding his head, letting Eddie feel it against his hand.

"Yeah?" He breathes.

"Yeah. Of course." Steve turns a little then, facing him more.

"I like when you count too." Steve admits. Finally. Eddie's nose scrunches, he snorts, and Steve lets him have his hand back. He lets his fall to Steve's shoulder, his fingers almost instantly tangling in the hair at the back of Steve's neck. They find their way there most nights Steve is here, his hand on the back of the couch always finding Steve somehow.

"No you don't. No one does. It annoys people. It's weird." Eddie shakes his head, but he's smiling, and blushing, and Steve wants to kiss his bright red cheeks, wants to feel their warmth against his lips.

"It's addicting." Steve counters. Eddie's eyes widen.

"Is it?" He sounds shocked. Steve nods.

"Yeah. I do it all the time now. Even when you aren't doing it. Or aren't even around. I just... count things. You were right. It's calming." Steve says, his hands finding Eddie's, moving his fingers across Eddie's rings.

"You said it was addicting." Eddie mumbled.

"What?"

"You said it was addicting. The counting." Eddie says, finally looking up from his lap. His eyes soft when they find Steve's.

"Oh. Guess I did yeah. Is that... is that bad?" Steve asks, turning one of Eddie's rings around his finger. Eddie shakes his head, once, the red tint crawling down his neck now. The hand Steve's not fiddling with finds its way to the back of Eddie's neck, he rubs the skin there and blinks a few times before looking into his lap again.

"No. Just... no one's ever called anything about me addicting before. Annoying? Yes. Addicting? Not so much. But you did. And you said it like-" Eddie's teeth dig into his bottom lip.

"Like what?" Steve nudges his knee into Eddie, fighting not to smile.

"Like it was a good thing. I guess?" Eddie shrugs. Steve reaches up then, lets go of Eddie's hand and cups his cheek instead, lifting his head so Eddie can see him.

"It is a good thing. The best thing. I could listen to you count all day." Steve smiles then, mirroring Eddie as he laughs a little.

"Oh yeah? You might regret that. I've actually been trying to hold back on it. I know I do it a lot." Eddie shakes his head, frowns a little. Steve moves, presses closer, shakes his head.

"Don't. Don't hold back. Count whatever you want. Whenever you want." He breathes between them.

"Okay." Eddie says, hesitant, he sounds nervous. Steve pulls back a bit, brows furrowed, and then Eddie darts forward, presses his lips to Steve's cheek.

"One." He says when he's settled back on his cushion. His cheeks even more red than before. Steve snorts, opens his mouth to say something but Eddie moves again. His lips hit next to Steve's eyebrow.

"Two."

He presses his lips close to Steve's ear.

"Three." Steve laughs. Eddie kissed his neck twice.

"Four. Five." He breathes, as Steve catches him, doesn't let him settle back down this time. Keeps him close. One hand on the back of Eddie's neck, one hand trailing his fingertips over Eddie's nose, and his cheeks.

"You've got them too ya know? Not like mine. But ... little ones. All over." Steve breathes, his fingers moving slowly over Eddie face until they linger on his lips. Just for a moment, before he cupped Eddie's cheek.

"You wanna count 'em?" Eddie asks, he sounds breathless, and Steve had barely touched him. They were both on their knees now. Their chests nearly pressed together.

"Maybe later. Got something better in mind right now." Steve breathes, eyes dropping to Eddie's mouth. He watches Eddie gulp and smiles.

"Oh yeah? L-like what?" Eddie stammers. His hands grabbing at Steve's waist to keep himself steady.

"Probably better if I just show you." Steve sighs, presses his forehead to Eddie's.

"Okay. Yeah. I'm- I'm definitely a learn by example kinda guy. So that's- that works for me." Eddie rambles, his mouth moving a mile a minute. Steve moves his nose along Eddie's and nods.

"Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. I can do that." Steve agrees, not sure what he's really agreeing too, he just knows he wants to kiss this boy. His friend. Eddie. He wants to kiss Eddie so bad. Has for awhile now. He feels Eddie's hands, one of them moving to his shoulder where his sleeve is still pulled up, Eddie's palm is warm on his arm.

Eddie huffs a nervous laugh and that's all it takes.

Steve kisses him. Gently. Eddie's lips fumble against his for a moment. His inexperience making Steve's stomach flutter. His hands grab at Eddie, pull him closer. Eddie whines against his lips and Steve pulls back, doesn't want to overwhelm him too much.

Eddie drops his head to Steve's shoulder with a breathy laugh. Steve pets at his hair, curls his fingers into it like he's wanted to for ages and pulls genlty, so he can look at Eddie's face.

"You okay?" He asks. Eddie nods, smiles.

"Six." He says, his cheeks dimpling. Steve smiles back, shakes his head. Presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie's nose.

"Seven." Eddie says, no hesitation. Steve swears he honest to god giggles, but would never admit it to anyone.

Eddie's eyes tint with a mix of mischief and seriousness that's all his own as his fingers curl around the hem of Steve shirt.

"Okay seriously though take this off, I wasn't done counting." His voice is completely serious. And Steve, feeling brave, decides to match it, and tugs his shirt up over his head, careful not to hit Eddie in the face. Eddie barks a manic sounding laugh as Steve falls back, pulling Eddie down too, so that he's stradling him.

"Go on then. Count away." Steve shoves his hands under his head, smiles up at Eddie as he looks wide eyed down at Steve. He's bright red, but then his eyes focus, and his hands move to gently touch the skin covering Steve's ribs. His finger tips press down, tickling a bit, as he whispers,

"Twenty eight." His eyes jump to Steve's face, he gives him an encouraging nod, and that's all Eddie needs apparently. Because he starts counting in earnest, his hands moving over Steve's freckles quickly. Numbers falling past his lips, his counting calming Steve the way almost nothing else does.

He gets to fifty and stops. Leans down and presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder.

"Eight." He whispers, and then keeps going. He kisses and counts his way across Steve's skin until he's laying on top of Steve, his hand in his hair. Pressing gentle kisses into Steve's neck as he smiles into Eddie's shoulder, the little voice in his head counting along, in sync with Eddie in a way he'd never expected to be, feeling content as Eddie's numbers become more garbled. Until they fade completely as Eddie drifts off, his breath heavy on Steve's neck.

Steve smiles, moves them a bit so they're settled on the couch a bit better. Eddie doesn't wake. Steve watches him sleep. Soothes his fingers over the crease in Eddie's eyebrows until it smooths out and he melts further into the couch. He smiles at him, closes his eyes as Eddie's arm squeezes around him, pulling him closer. Steve sighs, sinks deeper into the couch as he feels sleep dragging him under. But not before he mumbles, sleepy and soft,

"One." Making sure he marks this. The first time they fall asleep tangled together, the smile on his lips fading as he drifts off to sleep, dreaming of all the never ending numbers in their future.

[norrizzandpia]

Hiiii, could you do something with lando wanting to be protective of reader like her being afraid of something happening and him hugging her tightly to make sure she is safe w him 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

I need this man so bad and this just fueled that

Safe With Me, Love (LN4)

Summary: When a man at a club makes Y/n uncomfortable, touching her, grabbing her, Lando’s the first to stop it.

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, lando almost getting into a fight, verbal abuse, language, lando gets super angry, but major fluff at the end and all is well

Note: i am in no way trying to glorify sexual assault with this at all. What happens to a multitude of women around the world and incredibly disgusting, my heart goes out to all the victims of any kind of sexual assault.

There’s a loud boom from the speakers as Lando and Y/n sidle up next to each other in the dimly lit booth Max had secured for the night. Shot glasses and other drinks are scattered across the surface of the table, the majority of the liquid having been consumed by their friends who had tagged along. Max F and Pietra dance together on the floor while Oscar and Max V are left to grimace at the touchy exchanges between the couple left in their seats.

A dangerous hand high up on Y/n’s thigh has Max V gagging into Oscar’s shoulder, “When do you guys stop?”

Lando’s hazy eyes give him a quick glance before retreating back to his beautiful Y/n, “I don’t stop. She tries to make me, but let’s be honest, I never will.”

Oscar rolls his eyes and Max V throws back the rest of his drink. The two men get up and flee the area in a panic when Lando starts kissing her neck softly, knowing the boy is quite affectionate when he drinks. Y/n is a bit farther than her boyfriend on the drunk spectrum, making her more prone to accepting his PDA-filled advances. She snickers into his ear when his tongue lightly traces her skin and her hands dance in his hair when he whispers how much he loves her.

Y/n and Lando could not be more clingy when they’ve consumed alcohol. Everybody knows this. From the fans and media to their families, the couple has had multiple drunken exchanges where they were more than comfortable sharing how much their physical connection was just as strong as their emotional one.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Lando says as he pulls back, eyes roaming her face as his breathing turns shallow as if he’s completely taken aback by her beauty.

Y/n blushes, “Lan, if I had got a penny for every time you told me I was pretty, we would be billionaires just off that money, not even with your racing income. Pennies.”

Lando smiles at her as his head lulls to the side. Her back rests against the cushions of the booth while his is turned to the rest of the crowd, his entire front facing her with his hands on her hips, “Good. You should be told how pretty you are every second of every day.”

Her hand lays across his bicep as they look helplessly at each other, drunken smiles and breaths hitting the other’s face from the close proximity. In the midst of the deafening music, their moment is quiet and it reaffirms Lando in his idea that every day he would fall in love with his girl all over again.

His eyes are overwhelming and his look of love makes Y/n want to giggle and squeal, she needs a moment to herself. Lando’s face falls slightly when she mentions needing to go to the bathroom, “Let me go with you.”

Y/n stands from the booth and shakes her head at him with a light grin, “No, baby. I’ll be fine. I’ll be back in five minutes tops.”

He’s persistent, his hand clutching hers still, “No, Y/n. Stay.”

Puppy dog eyes and a pouted lip threaten Y/n’s plan to calm down from Lando’s eyes, but she perseveres.

“You wanna know the truth?” She pops her hip out and stares down at him, his body warming at her sassy position.

He nods, “Always.”

She leans down to his ear and whispers, out of slight embarrassment and the fact that she doesn’t want him to genuinely see the effect he has on her, “You’re making me all flustered and I need to regain my composure.”

When she pulls back, Lando’s mouth has fallen open slightly in a smile with his teeth sticking out a little bit from his top lip, “Oh, well… Then, go right ahead.”

She nods at him before he loosens his grip and she disappears into the crowd. His eyes try to stay on her frame, wanting to make sure she gets to the bathroom, but clubs are always packed and the moment her hand leaves his, his sight of her is lost.

He tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

—

Throwing away the used paper towel, Y/n exits the bathroom and is immediately slammed into a hard chest. She reels back, discreetly checking the stranger’s shirt for any makeup stains. When she finds none, she lets her natural kind demeanor shine through.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t see where I was going.” She gives, the man staring down at her in a way that puts her off.

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at her, but when she tries to move past him, his arm comes to hold her bicep.

“What’s your name?” He asks. Alarms sound off in her brain at his tightening grip, panic settling into her skin and suffocating her. He’s not much taller than her, maybe 5’6, if that. Though, with her short stature, he still intimidates her with the way he slightly towers over her. Lando would tower over him, she tries to tell herself.

Where’s Lando? Get to Lando.

His fingers on her arm don’t allow for that, however.

A smirk finds its way onto his grimy face as he repeats, “I asked you what your name was, sweetheart.”

Her eyes avert to the floor, “Uh, Y/n.”

Immediately, she knows she’s made a grave mistake. She’s not stupid, just completely lost at the way fear has enveloped her body. She knows she should never give out her name to strangers that grab her without her consent, she just is completely gone to the racing thoughts in her head.

“What a pretty name,” He speaks, grip relentless, “What’s a beautiful girl like yourself doing here alone?”

“I’m not alone. I’m here with my boyfriend and his friends.” She smiles, hoping that the mention of her boyfriend will scare him off.

Happy endings aren’t always guaranteed, though.

The man moves closer, his breath down her face, “Aw, how cute. Who’s your boyfriend?”

In a leap of faith at the power of Lando’s name, Y/n murmurs, “Lando Norris.”

The man keels over with laughter, his grip staying put on her arm however, “Oh, love, how sweet. Are you one of those fan girls that think they have a chance? Lando Norris would never go for someone like you. No offense.”

Offense taken, bitch, she thinks.

Trying to defuse the situation, Y/n lightly pulls at her arm, “None taken. If you can let me go, that’s be great.”

Suddenly, his hand has maneuvered her against the wall, his face right next to her neck as he breaths her in. Turmoil floods Y/n when his other hand comes to trace up and down her thigh, trying to hike it up to his waist but failing when she clamps her legs together.

He whispers in her ear, “Don’t be a bitch. Everyone at this club would take one look at you and know you’re an easy slut. Let me get a taste of what everyone already has.”

Her eyes drown in tears as she tries to seek out help as they rest right outside the bathrooms. However, as ironic as it is, the usual busy bathrooms are ghost towns in the moment a man tries to sexually assault her.

He finally gets her thigh to wind around his waist when his strength overpowers her body and Y/n is taken back to the moments when Lando would manhandle her in bed. What she used to think was the biggest turn on has now turned into something horrifying and painful.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!” There’s shouting from the end of the hallway and the man invading her space moves off her in an instant. Her face whips around to meet Lando’s fiery one, his body stalking toward the man as Max V, Max F, and Oscar follow in tow. All four men are looking enraged, faces burning red at the scene they had just witness whilst Pietra turns around and bolts toward the front of the club. In her loud mind, Y/n knows it’s because Pietra is going to get security.

Lando reaches the man, grabbing the collar of his shirt and shoving him against the opposite wall. He screams in his face, “DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH MY GIRLFRIEND LIKE THAT. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” He spits in the man’s face, “YOU’RE FUCKING DISGUSTING.”

Three burly men return with a distraught Pietra, pulling Lando off the strange man and immediately removing the man from the premises.

With the absence of him, Lando is quick to pull Y/n into his arms, feeling her melt into him. Nobody says anything as he holds her tightly, turning her away from the group so his back faces them and she can cry into his chest lightly with some kind of privacy. His hands clamp down around her body while she grips his shirt. There’s whispers of reassurance and love as he tries to soothe her nerves.

“Get me out of here,” She chokes out, letting her hands drift under his shirt to feel the warmth of his bare skin.

Lando nods as he kisses her temple, “Of course, my love.”

He leads her through the overstimulating crowd and out of the club where the man has been handcuffed and shoved into the backseat of a cop car. An officer approaches her as she’s curled into Lando’s body, asking her for a statement, but, with Lando’s credibility and fame, he speaks softly with the man and asks if he can get her statement another time.

“I think she just needs to go home right now.” He says as Y/n stays hidden in his chest.

Her cowering and shaking strikes a cord in the older man’s heart, “Yes, of course. That’s completely fine. Can I get your number so I can call later tomorrow? Does that work?”

Lando nods, “Yes, that’s perfect,” He lists off his number, the officer taking it down in his notebook. When the last number is drawn, he wishes the couple a calm night and retreats back to his partner.

Y/n tries to hang on to Lando as he tries to pawn her off into the passenger seat of his car. When her hands won’t unclasp from his waist, he leans down and meets her eyes.

His hand lightly rubs her knee, almost hesitant in not wanting to scare her anymore. He looks up at her before softly speaking, “I’m not going to leave you. I promise you that. After that, I will never let you out of my sight ever again. We’re just getting in the car to go home, baby. That’s it. I’ll be right next to you the rest of the night.”

She nods, looking down at her hands in the silence while Lando closes the door and jogs to the other side of the car, getting in.

The car ride back is quiet as Lando lets his hand roam over her thigh. Even though it’s a call back to what the man had done to her in that secluded corner of the club, she doesn’t feel fear or uncomfortable. All she feels is love and security as his fingers lightly trace over the moles and bumps of her leg. Lando’s hands, all of Lando, will never not be a safety net for her, she knows that.

Nothing could make her afraid of him.

He’s delicate with her as they walk to his apartment, an arm tightly around her waist as they wait in the elevator. When they reach his door, he sets her in front of him, between him and the door, as he unlocks it. When it opens, she walks in first and goes straight to the softness of his bed. She falls onto it, letting out a small groan at the comfort, before he catches up with her, his body looming over hers and smiling.

Her mascara must be running down her cheeks and her eyeliner must be smudged across the entirety of her face yet Lando’s face shows what it always does: the love he has for her beauty. Even in her worst moment, he thinks she is the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes on.

“Can I get you out of your clothes? Unzip your dress and take it off along with your heels?” He’s clear and precise with his questions, not wanting to throw her a curveball or something that gets misunderstood.

She nods with a small smile, but Lando stays still, “I need words, pretty girl.”

She blushes in the midst of it all, “Yes, Lan, you can.”

“Perfect” He states before letting his hand gently coax her to sitting position, gliding down her back as her zipper trails with it. When his hands shimmy her dress down her legs, he throws it across the floor, moving to her feet next. He kisses her ankles softly as his fingers work slowly to unbuckle the shoes. When he gets them off, his girlfriend left in a bra and underwear, he moves to the dresser a few feet away. She sits there, exposed, and, while she feels as though she should be on complete alert or scared, she feels at peace. She watches as Lando rummages through his drawer, seeking out his pajamas for her, and she feels nothing but protected and completely loved, accepted by the man before her.

When he returns, her favorite hoodie and sweatpants of his in hand, he helps her into them. When she’s cozy and dressed, he changes into his pajamas in front of her, almost as if he’s trying to put himself at the same level as her. She had undressed in front of him, he undressed in front of her. He didn’t want her to feel as though there was some sort of power dynamic going on, no matter how far that was from the truth of what she was genuinely feeling.

When they’re both comfortable, he leads her into the bathroom and sits her on the counter, his body between her legs before he wipes her makeup off and does her skincare for her. If she wasn’t so emotionally exhausted from the night, she would’ve showered him in praise and a bit of teasing for knowing her routine perfectly, with each step being very clearly memorized. But, this wasn’t an ordinary moment, so she kept quiet as he took care of her. They brushed their teeth together, Lando’s hand keeping its place on her hip in a simple reminder that he was there no matter what.

And when they reached his bed once more, falling under the sheets and heaps of pillows and blankets, Lando brought her into him once more. Her head snuggled into the crook of his neck and his hands trailing up and down her back, he whispered soft words in her ear.

“I love you.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“You are my entire life.”

“I will always be there to protect you.”

His words seep into her skin just like anxiety had hours before during one of the worst moments of her life. Though, this time, instead of worrying what would happen happen next or who would come to save her, all she could think of was the soothing hands on her back and the calming words of the man she would never stop loving.

Lando was it for her, if she hadn’t known that before, she knew it now. As he continued to hold her, never once letting her go throughout the entire night, she found solace within him.

And when morning came, the dreaded phone call from the officer who sought out her statement, Lando sat next to her with his hand in hers and his unwavering support shining through.

There genuinely wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

He’d bury a body for her, kill for her.

Preferably, if she allowed him, kill the man who had touched her without consent.