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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 2 days

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Labor HC (ft. Poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Warnings: intense labor, my bsf just had her first baby and told me all the horrific things 🫠, personally i never want children, thank the cauldron for healing magic, longish? compared to my other hc, i guess labor horror? the idea of giving birth scares the ever loving shit out of me

By the end of your pregnancy your stomach was the size of two side by side watermelons

Madja grew increasingly worried that you would not survive the labor at how big the babe inside of you had grown

you worried your child would tear itself out of your womb

indefinite bed rest for you

which you honestly didn't mind since it was getting difficult for you to move your body without getting tired

bat boys worry. you aren't illyrian. if the baby belonged to cassian or azriel, your body would not be able to allow for wings to grow. (paternity/gendering of the baby was not possible. all the results came back as inconclusive)

as it gets more cramped inside of you, every one of the baby's movements is felt by you.

Rhys neglects much of his work and favors spending every waking hour by your side.

Cassian and Azriel grow extremely considered when they hear commotion arising in the Hewn City. Az has heard that many in the Court of Nightmares wish for your demise in labor. They take each threat to your life seriously and spend their time ensuring the security and safety of you and your unborn child.

they can't protect you from the pain of labor though

Rhys and Az were asleep with you in the bed, Cassian preferring to stand guard outside your door.

You're pulled out of sleep rather abruptly, well aware of the unconscious tensing of your muscles as a stabbing pressure digs into your abdominal area. a tightening and squeeze so vicious that you try and sit up immediately but your big belly prevents you from doing so.

stomach churning fear rises in you. it was time.

you shake your mates awake as another squeezing pain that burned across your lower back and pelvis.

they've drilled for this. no really your bat boys have played out the scenario an annoying amount of times. Az leaps from the bed to alert Cassian, Rhys helping you sit up

Azriel leaves to fetch Madja since he's the fastest

the Wraiths prep everything you may need and wait in the room with you, Rhysand and Cassian until Azriel returns with the healer.

that's when things really start

you were already screaming when Madja arrived. Nuala and Cerridwen had prepped you for the labor if Madja were too late.

Azriel had your left hand, brows furrowed and wishing he can transfer the pain you were going through into his body. Even if this pain meant the birth of a child, he hated hearing your screams or the tears welling in your eyes as you push with all your might

Rhysand, who had been hold your right hand transfers it to Cassian's care as he moves to be by Madja side to watch the actual birth. His eyes keep darting from your lower half to your face.

you never knew bringing another life into the world was so painful. you yourself didn't know either of your parents. no one to warn you of what you would face in childbirth

your bat boys were there though, that was all that mattered.

time drags with each heave you give

then he was born. . .

Dagen. even with his wings tucked in tight, pushing him out damn near tore you from your v to your a. like that whole entire region was on fire

"O-Oh. . ." Madja gasped, clearly startled as she held your baby in her arms, having been about to pass him to Rhysand. Almost in fear she looks at Rhysand. "I. . .I think there is another babe coming. . ."

Two babies???

you didn't believe her. until you felt another intense wave of pain start up again. dagen nearly tore you in half. you couldn't imagine pushing out another baby that potentially had wings.

"no, please no" you sob, every part of you aching.

Cassian looks scared. "You can do this." his hand was numb but he didn 't care.

"We're here." Azriel nods and gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Rhysand was still standing a little dumbstruck with a fresh newborn in his arms.Thankfully one of the wraith sisters nudges him, her arms ready to take the baby so he can go back to focusing on the next one.

Rian arrived quickly, smaller than dagen thanks to the lack of wings

there was five minutes of peace where Rhysand and Cerridwen showed you your boys. beautiful boys that you and your mates created

until you felt another stabbing sensation.

you screamed at rhysand, azriel and cassian. damning them to a suffering in the afterlife for putting you through this.

to you this was bullshit.

it should be impossible!! then again, so was having three destined mates

Mor had called it a miracle. you now thought of it as a curse. you never knew having three mates meant giving birth to three babies at the same time

the third baby however would prove to be the most difficult. thanks to the previous two, you were beyond exhausted and begging for someone to just rip it from you. there was no way you could push it out by yourself.

Madja made the tough call of performing a cesarean section

the wraiths took away rian and dagen as the surgery took place

they'd been in wars, seen carnage, but there your bat boys were with white faces that expressed utter horror

the last baby to be delivered was a little girl with wings. your Baila.

exhausted, you pass out soon after Madja pulls her from you.

everyone is pushed out of the room except for madja herself as she sews you back up and stops the bleeding that could possibly kill you if not treated properly.

it feels like a dream to you when you wake up.

except every part of you is still suffering from a dull pain

your bat boys introduce you to your three pretty babies

i hc that dagen is azriel's, rian is rhysand's and baila is cassian's cuz i've always thought of him as a girl dad and nothing can change that lol

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #acotar fanfic #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar series #acotar cassian #cassian fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger #bat boys #acotar bat boys #rhysand x reader

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buckttommy · 3 days

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I'm not an aro!Eddie girlie because he very obviously experiences romantic love and experiences it deeply, but sometimes the way people talk to him about his life and about his love makes me want to be just so they can fuck off

#Everyone talks to him like “Eddie you'll be alone forever Eddie you'll be alone forever” like... I was going to say maybe that's what he #wants (and. like. maybe it is) but also. He won't be alone. He won't ever be alone again. Isn't that what Chimney said in 4x2 when the girl #was giving birth? She said she's been alone her whole life and then she had a little girl and Chimney said she'll never be alone again.#Eddie has Chris. He has a built in person for life. But it's not just that. He's got Buck. The love there is unconditional. Whatever form i #takes the love is there and it doesn't go away. He's got Bobby. He's got Hen. Chimney. Maddie. May. His parents (or his dad at the very #least). Eddie Diaz is one of the most loved people on the entire planet and it's not just... love that's uttered and then forgotten. It's #active love. People show it to him and prove it every day. So no. He wont' be alone. If he never gets married ever again he will still be #so full of love it'll make him dizzy and that's a good thing #and the more I sit on it I'm just like. If no Canon Buddie I want Eddie to be alone for the rest of his life #because sometimes ''alone'' isn't actually alone at all. And sometimes it's a damn beautiful thing #Romantic love isn't the pinnacle of existence. It's just a root on the tree of life.#He's had it. He has loved romantically. He has been loved romantically. He has experienced what a lot of people don't get to.#and so now he can just... soak in the love that is and always will be readily available to him #but anyways #tv: 911 #jack.txt

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crocutacanidae · 2 days

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A homestuckie and a echo(fvn) enjoyer?! This means you are legally required to give all the echo cast classpects since you know everything ever about echo and homestuck, so, Please. tell -m-e- us what chunter's aspect is.

Chunter's a prince of blood

mired in cyclical suffering, given to destroying everything he has, gods speaciealest little boy? It's so obvious to me

As for the others,

Leo- Knight of Hope

Carl- Heir of Space

Tj- Mage of Life

Jenna- Seer of Heart

Flynn- Thief of Rage

Leo's so entirely like me, he gets my exact classpect. i used to hate him for it but now I love him for it

Carl I used to think could be Mind or Life aspect-wise, and possibly a bard classwise. Hell, there's an argument to be made for Witch of Space. Carl's hard to get a grasp on when it comes to these things. He's so often a non-actor in the story, but his inaction comes across as self-serving sometimes. His route lends the most credibility to both the Mind and Life aspects, in relation to Carl's need to decide what he wants without input from others as well as the decisions which granted him his family fortune. Actually. Witch of Mind Carl. Final answer.

Tj is pretty defined by his knowing of the details of the tragedy which changed everyone's life. Mages are prophets whose words both harm and benefit them. Tj is damned if he says the truth and damned if he doesn't. Keeping it in burns him and yet keeps things the way they are. Saying it frees him and yet causes everything to collapse.

Jenna's Classpect I saw coming from the beginning. Biased as she is, her every word on the conduct of her friends is correct. She manages to see through to the heart of Echo but fails to see it as anything of worth. It's a place she hates with her whole being, I think. Her problem isn't if she can see, but whether she can judge it fairly

Flynn i also saw from the beginning. Rage concerns actual rage, but also arbitrations, tangents, and contrivances. Flynn seeks to cut through all the bullshit that rage represents, which is honestly a pretty Light thing to do, but i believe he shares more in common with Blood and worldly suffering than with Breath and detatched idealism. Thieves struggle to be good, but I don't think that's flynn's thing completely. He wishes to join the two versions of his persona that exist, but this doesnt map very cleanly onto any class. Thief it is

#ground quakes #classpecting #echo vn #chase hunter #leo alvarez #carl hendricks #tj hess #jenna begay #flynn moore #i talked a lot and i have more thoughts on this #but i cant really articulate them well here #oh well!#prince of blood #knight of hope #witch of mind #mage of life #seer of heart #thief of rage

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pedge-page · 3 days

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Ahhh asking again!!!! I love and laugh about Joel and Preggo. What if she wants Joel to prepare the nursery? They go to pick out paint ….she says needs to see it in the room, he paints sample areas. ……she picks one, he paints it and then she cries because she hates it and accuses him of doing the wrong color. Please change this prompt anyway and every way! Basically about preparing nursery to her whims. Or he does everything and she has changed her mind.!!!!

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife - Oh the Colors You'll Choose

Warnings: girlie is up to her usual tactics, slight Jealous!Joel at the end

- - - -

One thing Joel’s really excited about with the baby on the way is getting to design the nursery. Finally having an excuse to throw away your old high school gear you haven’t touched in over a decade, the clothes that had no style in the modern era, collecting dust in bins, all the Christmas gifts you never were going to use just stocked up in the spare bedroom for storage. Now the room was vacant. Tarps and old sheet cover the carpet, walls primed and prepped for the first round of paint.

Joel picks out a nice pink neutral tone, something perfectly lovely for the little girl he’s about to have.

You barely glance at the swatch in his hand, just nodding and waving him off as you lie sprawled eagle in bed, trying your best to cool underneath the high speeding fan.

He’s spent the entire afternoon of your nap getting the room partially painted. The whole time, giddy with the idea that he’s going to be changing diapers in here, reading stories, cradling his baby’s soft small head and walking around the room to get her to sleep—

He finally notices you patting gently into the room, just awoken from your fresh nap. He’s halfway to an excited smile until he sees the absolute wrought look of disappointment all over your face.

"What, what's wrong?"

There’s no hint of happiness or enthusiasm in you. You survey the walls disappointingly, crossing your arms with a disgusted look before walking out without a word.

Joel’s not going to let this room be the thing that upsets you—no you’re going to love it, he’ll be damned sure.

He shows you 5 more colors—all ranging from pinks to purples and—

“Does it have to be pink? Why are we forcing the gender thing on her?”

“I mean, I don’t know. Doesn’t have to be. Thought maybe could be something sweet…” his voice trails off as you make a disgruntled frown.

“We can pick a neutral color if ya want.”

Joel pulls out a few colors he had stored in his bag—some greens and blues, grayish whites and browns.

You make a firm decision on one—the light green forest color. It’s bold, but it seems to make you happy.

Until he starts painting:

“No! No it’s not right.”

Joel sighs. “What’s not right? This is the one you picked!”

You shake your head again. “The light from the window makes it look so bland. It just doesn’t look good.”

“I can’t control the sun…”

“You’re doing it all wrong, Joel.”

He wipes the paint off of his beard. It’s been 2 days of painting now, much longer than he expected.

He lays 5 different colors on the walls in tiny samples; this time you’ll be able to see the one exactly as it will be when he finishes painting.

You walk back and forth, finger pressed to your lip in hard concentration. “Oh! This one!” You exclaim: an orange tan.

“Are you sure?”

You nod.

He starts doing the color, now halfway through the room, fumes suffocating his brain, but now you’re telling him it's just not as pretty as it looked on the swatch.

“Why are you painting the wrong color!”

“It’s the same one!”

“No it’s not!”

You've now moved on to the next color of the rainbow on your hit-list since he somehow fucked orange up. He lays out 10 swatches of blue. All of which look the same to him but none appeal to you.

“Can we just pick one and settle on it? This much paint on the walls aint good. Gonna take forever to get the smell out.”

“Joel, this is going to be our BABY’s FIRST COLOR she'll associate with. It has to be perfect for her! She’ll be stuck with it forever!”

He raises his eyebrow unconvinced.

“…Until I decide to change it again,” you add plainly. “Or until she’s old enough to decide for herself. Do you really want a tween picking out her own bedroom color to haunt us?”

He huffs but agrees.

You are eating a banana just as Joel's finishing laying on the neutral ocean blue throughout the whole room. You had come in twice already but hadn’t made a peep either time, so maybe this one is the one—

"Oh my god!" You exclaim. Joel nearly falls off the latter with worry that the baby somehow just dropped from between your legs until he sees you point to the banana peel excitedly.

His shoulders slouch in a ‘you gotta be kidding me’ sort of way. His back fucking hurts. Hands cramped up. There’s gotta be a permanent strike of white in his hair right now. He drops the paintbrush, splashing it into the now wasted paint can of blue before taking your peel and walking out the room. Of course, its already nighttime, so the hardware store is closed and he’s gotta wait till morning to get the new paint.

The next day, he's rolling on the new yellow.

You wrinkle your nose disgustedly. "Ugh what the fuck is this?"

"It’s the banana!"

"No it's not! This is so much darker!"

"BANANAS GET DARKER EACH DAY. YOU WANTED ME TO MATCH FROM A HALF EATEN PEEL.”

“It sucks. You've put this god awful yellow in my mind now I don't want anything like it.”

You turn around and survey the room, repulsed by its bright wrongness. Joel opens his jaw wide and silently screams into the air, pounding his fist into his head angrily without letting a sound out.

You turn around just as he drops into a neutral, emotionless demeanor.

The lightbulb in his brain flickers on. “You know what? I got an idea."

Joel takes you to the Home Depot.

"Hey Rick,” he says towards the man behind the paint counter.

Rick just chuckles. “Hey Joel, getting another paint? Your wife gonna make me match to the crazy fire in your eyes when you tell her to—“

Joel clears his throat when you waddle quickly to hold his hand like a child eager to stay close to dad in an unfamiliar land. Your mouth agape as you stare up at the ceiling and around all of the endless aisles of lumber and tools. Luckily, you were too stunned to hear Rick’s passing words.

"Why is it so big here?” You ask innocently. “And woodsy. And ... orange."

Joel grabs your hand and plops you in front or the swatches wall.

You gasp, “THERES SO MANY OPTIONS,” eyes sparkling and wide like a child in a candy shop.

"Pick a couple to take home, and then we're getting the paint for it. Ok?"

"How much are they?"

"They're 40 bucks each—“ Joel starts.

But Rick, the ever so helpful manager to anyone but Joel, buds in. “The swatches? You don't gotta pay for them darlin,” he winks.

Joel gives him a dagger look, but you smile so wide and start slipping swatches like they’re on fire.

Joel shakes his head and grabs some more rolls and brushes since his are all worn out. By the time he returns to the swatch wall, all 23 seconds later, you’ve got a giant of colored papers pile barely held in your hands of every single color. “We should check them all!”

He grits his teeth but bares a smile.

Joel tapes every single swatch on the wall at home. You walk and study each one. Holding one eye closed, tilting your head to the side, putting a different color next to it. You couldn’t see him pretending to bang his head against the wall on the other side of the room as you debate for an hour now.

Finally, you stand back and take in the entire multicolored wall. “Oh thats it! It’s all of them! We make it like rainbow ombre in like little squares.”

"I would have to buy a can of every single paint. No. We're not doing that. We said one color only.”

"They can't give you like little cups of each color?"

"No.”

"That's dumb. What a scam!"

You wonder downstairs for more inspiration. Something homely. Something familial yet not too obviously Joel or your own style. You come across an old picture of young Tommy and Joel standing in front of Joel's truck, that had just been passed down by their dad. Their smug grins and messy hair, wrinkled clothes and slung arms around one another make you feel pleasantly at ease. Your baby needs to have that same sense of security, youth, and warmth. You study the photo a bit longer, and then it hits you.

Joel wakes up, and the first thing he subconsciously does every morning is to reach for you on your side of the bed until he’s in contact with your warm body. It puts him at ease, touching you, knowing you’re there and he’s home. The only times you wouldn't be there would be if you were in the bathroom. But as he looks through heavy eyes, the bathroom door is open, dark, unoccupied. He furls his eyebrows back to your cold, empty side of the bed.

The sound of his truck rumbles distantly through the open window, growing closer and squeaking to a hault in the driveway.

He throws the blankets off and rushes down the stairs 2 at a time just to see you hauling a big heavy paint can slung down low with both your hands desperately holding the handle, all by yourself, bloated tummy and all, through the front door.

Barreling to you, he snatches the can from your sore fingers.

“Are you crazy??? You can’t drive! You can't carry heavy shit! What were you doing—“

"Yes I can!” You challenge back. He sets the can on the table with a loud slam just as you drop his keys in the tray. “I’m not completely helpless, Joel! I can get my own pain and drive my own ... your own truck!"

"Yeah? Go paint the room yourself then, if you're so independent."

You scoff, bemused by his suggestion. “I’m not doing that. That's what I have you for.”

He shakes his head and looks at the new can.

“This better be worth it. "

You smile. “It's the one. Trust me."

Joel finishes lying on the paint. It's a breezy, toned down pinkish salmon. Definitely not something that you would have gotten from a swatch. No, you had this one custom matched, and he can't quite put his finger on why it feels so familiar. And gives him little irksome itch too.

He’s about to call you up when he hears Tommy greeting you at the front door.

The two of you make your way up the stairs, Tommy with a muffin shoved half in his mouth. When you round the corner, your husband stands in the middle of the room, awaiting your response.

"Well?" Joel asks curiously.

To his relief, you've got the brightest, sweetest grin plastered all over your face. "It’s perfect. I told you!"

Its worth it--to see the excitement in your face--this is what he was hoping for the whole time. "Thought we weren't doing the gendered color thing?"

you nuzzle yourself under Joel's broad arm. "Well... this one is special."

Tommy nods in agreement "this looks good!" He walks around the room, more so noting Joel's handiwork rather than the choice of paint. It's kind of funny that Tommy almost disappears like camouflage with how closely his favorite shirt matches—

Joel's satisfied grin immediately drops to a shocked frown.

“You made me match our baby girl’s bedroom to Tommy's old ass shirt??"

You nod happily. “Isn't it so good!"

His arms flex angrily across his chest—it’s not good at all. “What’s next, you two havin’ an affair I don't know about,” he accuses between his brother and his wife.

"Joel!”

"Dude!"

"No! We're not painting our daughter’s room after him! This can't be your favorite color! What about every other color we looked at? What about all my shirts?"

Your eyes feel like they’re about to bug out of your sockets for such a ridiculous suggestion. “Plaid????????????" you ask audaciously.

"I got some denim too!"

Just as you two are screaming at one another over who’s shirt to match the room to, Tommy tiptoes backwards out the room quietly while swallowing the rest of his muffin, hoping to snag one more in the kitchen too before dipping.

"...and I'm just to assume our daughter is MINE when you got me painting HIS shirt—“

"I wouldn't be hanging out with your sensitive ass if it WAS his baby, damnit Joel, its just a color, what is WRONG with you—!”

Suddenly, he dips his hand into the bucket and slaps two saturated handprints onto your breasts.

You gasp, backing away. Two Joel-sized hands in pink are wetly printed onto your large t-shirt, your favorite tee, as you stare down in shock. "You. Did. Not.”

Joel shrugs proudly.

You grab the wet brush on the table next to you and slash it across his face before he could stop you.

you try not to laugh, his face dotted in splotches of pink paint dribbling down his whiskers and neck. He rolls his pursed lips before looking at you, a predator smirking at a silly little bunny who’s just been put herself in a trap.

".... This stuff comes off clothes... right..." you ask hesitantly, backing away as he grasps the roller slowly and strides toward you.

You make a run for it, but the big belly doesn’t let you get far as he closes the distance and snatches you. You squeal out, giggling in his arm arms as he rolls and pats paint all over your clothes and body, the two of you getting soaked by the thick pigment. He pulls you around and smashes his lips for a heated kiss. Pink-colored hands rub paint all over your cheeks and chin affectionately. You rub your nose along his bridge, grinning at one another, covered in the glossy acrylic without a care in the world right now.

You peck his lips once more. “It’s a good color on you too, ya know…”

He rolls his eyes. “Tell ya what. We’ll keep the room like this since ya like it so much. And next time I see Tommy, I’m bleaching that shirt. Win-win.”

“Deal.”

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fluff #the last of us fic #last of us fic #Joel dealing with Preggo wife

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 1 day

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sunlight ☀️

hii it’s me againn. could you also do tasm peter who is nerdy and nerdy reader? and it’s kind of like a meet cute at the library? that’s literally my dream 😔 (you can tell i’m in my spiderman kick again)

-🎀

love a good spiderman kick ☺️ hope you like it!

pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader word count: 1.4k tags: just fluff

The exam was next week, and Peter still hadn’t gotten a chance to so much as glance at the most helpful textbook. The only copy the library carried had been way over due for ages, and the damn things were way too expensive to buy. He hoped it would be back by today because the late fees would be so much worse after today’s cut off. So, into the library he strode to look for it for what felt like the millionth time.

He was sure the librarian remembered him, and which book he was after, after so many attempts, so he went straight up to the desk. Peter raised his eyebrows in question, in hope. He wrung his hands together as the librarian gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “So?” he finally couldn’t help.

“You just missed it,” the librarian deadpanned. How could she be so damn calm? She must know his life depended on getting his hands on this book! Well, maybe not his life, but definitely his grade… important enough.

“What?! And you didn’t hold it for me or something?” “Hold it for you? What do you think this is, kid? We don’t take reservations.”

After a moment, though, she sighed in slight defeat, something akin to pity entering her hardened features. She gave a sideways nod toward the person standing at the other end of the desk.

“Maybe she’ll share,” she whispered.

Peter followed her look. His eyes landed on a girl. She looked mortified. Given the books lying next to her open backpack on the desk, she’d clearly been packing them up. At the top of the pile lay the coveted textbook. And she’d clearly overheard his whole exchange with the librarian.

You lock your gaze onto the books in front of you. You could feel your cheeks warming, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally make eye contact with this stranger. This ridiculously attractive stranger you’d noticed in class before… Peter Parker… who had clearly had the same idea about the book being returned today…

You feel terrible at having snatched it up just before him. You hadn’t known someone else was after it, too, but you could’ve guessed, and it felt like pure luck that you got it first. You have no idea how to react, and before you can come up with any idea at all, you sense him stepping toward you and freeze in panic.

“Um, hey,” Peter whisper-says. God, why didn’t he just speak at a normal volume? He was in the library, sure, but just the entrance. He’s sure he sounded weird, and that’s the last thing he wanted after his little outburst clearly made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten the book before him.

Your eyes dart up to meet his at his words, and when they do, his nerves increase tenfold. Your eyes are so damn pretty. All of you is. And you look half way to an anxiety attack at his approach. “Hey, sorry,” he tries. “Sorry, I know we don’t know each other, but I just… Um, well… Sorry about that,” he ends lamely, gesturing back to where his exchange with the librarian just occurred. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling awkwardly and tucking your hair behind your ears. You look back down at your hands, pulling at the too-long sleeves of your shirt.

Peter’s hand comes up to his head, messing with his hair in a typical nervous tick. He can’t stop staring at you, and you can’t stop avoiding his stare. He had to say something else before the mounting awkwardness blew up. Why couldn’t he think of anything? God, why was his heart racing faster than it ever did when he had to fight giant, scary monsters? Somehow you were scarier.

“Um,” he starts again. “You in, uh, you in Vidal’s biology class?” he ventures, guessing you need the book to study for the same exam as he. It blows his mind he hasn’t noticed you before if you are.

“Mmhmm,” you nod softly.

“Me too,” he says and cringes. “I don’t recognize you.” “Oh, I don’t know. I tend to sit in the back.” You finally look up at him as you say this. Your eyes meet, and it’s too much to handle. After what feels like an eternal instant, you both look away chuckling.

Peter’s just nodding like an idiot, chewing his bottom lip, reeling for something else to say but failing miserably. At this point, the thought of getting the book has totally vanished from his mind. The fear of failing next week has been completely replaced with the fear of failing right now. The idea of your walking away and his not getting to talk to you again makes his stomach sink.

You’re just staring at your hands, unsure what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. How do people just know what they’re supposed to do when other people are involved?

You still feel really bad that you got the book first, and you figure he’s only still talking to you to ask when you’ll be done with it. The exam is so soon, you hadn’t really been planning to return it till after. But keeping it to yourself when he needed it too made your stomach twist. You didn’t even know him, but you wanted to help him. So, you mustered the courage to do something you know, from experience, you otherwise wouldn’t do.

You say softly, “If you want… um, I don’t know… maybe, we could share it?”

“What?” he responds, too quickly, confused, his voice nervously airy.

You’re not sure if he didn’t hear what you said — possible with how softly you’re speaking — or didn’t understand what you meant, so you don’t know what to say. Words are too hard, so you just grab the book — your hands grateful for something to do — and hold it up to him like an offering.

“Oh!” he hiccups. Then, “Oh,” he says more quietly, chuckling lightly. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you. You got it first fair and square.” “Yeah,” you shrug. “But you need it, too, right?”

“Yeah…” His mind begins stirring up images of the two of you studying together… maybe laughing together eventually… sitting closer together to both get a good look at the book…

It’s making his heart beat faster, and he realizes he’d be an idiot to not seize the opportunity. It’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with you, and he doesn’t even have to ask you out. Yet.

So, he quickly says, “Yeah, um, sharing would be great. If you don’t mind. I can just meet up with you whenever you were going to study anyway… Wherever is good for you; I don’t mind; you choose; whatever you prefer is good with me —” Having started, he can’t stop talking now, his nerves morphing into words, eager to leave his body.

You giggle at his garrulousness, and he knows he’s in trouble when the sound of it makes his breath hitch.

“Well,” you say. “I was planning to get started now… you know, since I’d been waiting to get my hands on the book. If you wanted to, um, maybe go to the café maybe?”

You hadn’t in fact been planning to start right away. If you were honest with yourself, you’d been planning to put it off till you couldn’t not… like you always did no matter how hard you tried to get an early start. Note to self: the only cure you’ve found to procrastination so far: ridiculously pretty boys with warm eyes and a voice you could listen to forever.

“Yeah, that’d be great. That’d be great,” he nods, smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully smile. You’d be happy to just hand him the book as long as you could watch him study, the exam be damned.

“Great,” you repeat, grabbing your things and turning toward the café. Your eyes widen in panicked disbelief at what just happened. You glance slightly back just to make sure you hadn’t imagined it, and sure enough: Peter Parker is taking a quick step to follow you. He falls in step with you as you walk, and it’s terrifying and invigorating just how much you like the feeling of him close beside you.

#peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter imagine #tasm! peter oneshot #tasm!peter fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #ria1k

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jimraisedmeup · 2 days

Text

TICK // 4.1 - the chain

Rating: mature (talk of homophobia, angst, language, sexual content)

Word Count: 1300

☾

Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies

☾

December 1983 - junior year

The morning after the barn party, you sat uncomfortably on the pew in between your mother and Robin.

The pastor was ranting about something you really didn't believe in. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your mother quietly nodding along to the sermon. Robin, on the other hand, was particularly jittery - her leg bouncing up and down made the whole pew shake slightly.

Your father leaned his head forward, shooting his two daughters a stern look.

"Sit still. Can't either of you behave appropriately in public?"

You spoke up before Robin could. "Sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have had that second cup of coffee today."

He scrutinized his eldest daughter for a moment. "This is the house of God. Pay attention."

Once your parents stopped fussing, you looked at your sister. Robin still seemed anxious for some reason. Trying to make the best of an annoying situation, you gently pinched Robin's arm.

Love you, Robbie, you mouthed at her.

Minutes ticked by and it felt like hours.

Successfully drowning out the noise of the church service, you pondered over your actions from the night before.

Daydreaming about sinning in the Lord's house. You almost snickered to yourself.

Eddie Munson.

You didn't believe in anything religious, but for lack of a better word, you felt possessed at the thought of him.

Sure, growing up you were a firm believer in God and everything that came along with it. Your parents were devout Catholics. They did their best to raise you and Robin in a God-fearing household.

Things changed over the last two years, though, and as you watched your younger sister suffer so greatly at your parent's beliefs, your own beliefs slowly dissipated.

What kind of God wouldn't accept Robin Buckley, no matter who she loved?

You felt jaded and a little betrayed. The girl you used to be - who thought God was always right and we should repent for our sins - was naive and brainwashed by her parents. By the church.

You would take Robin's secret to your grave, or at least until the day where the younger Buckley girl could kiss a girl in public and not be burnt at the stake. You felt an uncontrollable instinct to protect your baby sister.

That's where your cynical view of the world began to take over. You suddenly felt free and independent, not to mention closer to Robin than you ever were before. But you were always on edge, fists up, ready to fight anyone who wanted to judge Robin.

And now you had a whole new thing in your life. A boy that most people in Hawkins looked down upon simply because he was different. Weird.

Your parents would probably have simultaneous heart attacks if they found out that you had your first kiss behind a dirty barn, kneeling in front of Eddie like you were worshiping at an altar.

Squirming a bit in your seat, you glanced at your parents with an irrational fear that they might read your mind and discover your sins. Melissa and Richard Buckley were completely ignoring you, though, and kept their full attention on their beloved pastor.

Until you could graduate high school and move out, you came to the gloomy conclusion that hiding most of yours and Robin's personal lives from your parents was the path of least resistance. Best to not disrupt Mommy and Daddy’s image of perfection!

Don't look behind the curtain, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley. One of your daughters is a raging homosexual and the other one fantasizes about sweaty premarital sex with the town freak.

You weren't really sure what came over you the night before. Maybe it was the stereotypical jocks pissing you off at the party. Maybe it was your religious parents neglecting you at home. Or maybe you just liked having secrets, like the tattoo.

Including little secrets like your damp panties after kissing Eddie at the barn party, which were currently sitting at the bottom of the washing machine so no one could side-eye them in your laundry basket.

You didn't feel judged by Eddie Munson. Even though he was everything that you were taught to avoid as a child.

The pastor before you spoke calmly.

"...marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral…"

☾

And if you don't love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you saying You would never break the chain

☾

Monday arrived quickly and, for once, Eddie was actually happy to go to school.

He was nervous, though. Crossing his fingers, he was hoping that you weren't the kind of girl to kiss him on a Saturday night and then continue to act like she didn't know him in public.

Anger bubbled under his skin, simmering frustration. He reminded himself that he didn't really know you yet. The older Buckley sister was mysterious and closed off. It was hard for him to guess what battles you could be fighting in your mind.

Cause, hell, did he know all about inner demons.

The feeling of your cold lips brushing against his own was in the forefront of his mind. It was a quick, simple kiss - he had wanted to touch you, lay his hands between your warm thighs, but you pulled away and rushed back inside the barn before he could get a word out.

Eddie leaned against his locker. Gareth was talking to Jeff next to him, something about new t-shirt designs for the Hellfire Club.

He remained nonchalant as he watched students flood past him, bustling and energetic on a cold December morning. Among the crowd, Eddie spotted your distinct figure. Thankfully, you appeared to be alone.

"Buckley! Y/N, wait up, will you?"

As usual, your face was expressionless, but your eyes glinted with some kind of emotion as he walked beside you. You fiddled with the knitted hat in your hands.

"You know, sunshine, I am a classy broad. I charge fifty bucks per hour for my services. How long was our kiss the other night? Five seconds?" Eddie's confidence swelled when you smiled at his crazy antics.

But you still looked a little defensive, stopping and looking around you. "Uh, yeah. Five seconds, tops."

"So…" he continued, pretending to count on his fingers. "You owe me…"

"Four dollars and fifteen cents." You smirked at him.

Eddie groaned dramatically. "Oh, Christ, don't tell me you're a math nerd."

"I like to call it a gift, Munson."

"I probably wouldn't have let you throw yourself all over me at that party if I had known any better."

You snorted, "You're kind of an asshole."

"That's hilarious, because you're literally the biggest asshole I've met in a long time."

And then Nancy Wheeler appeared, closely followed by Carol Perkins. “Hey, walk with us to History?"

You waved Eddie off as you strolled away. "See you around."

He would have written the whole encounter off as a win if he didn't catch the conversation between you and Carol.

"...what did he want? He's so creepy."

"Oh, nothing. Just questions about math homework."

☾

Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies

☾

He felt a little defeated for the rest of the school day until he walked out to his van in the parking lot.

A folded piece of paper was tucked under his windshield wiper. Eddie quickly scoped the groups of people around him, checking for any sign of it being a dumb prank. Like the time last year when someone wrote freak in red paint on his back window.

But no one was looking at him. The paper was probably just an advertisement or something.

Eddie was surprised to see a crisp ten dollar bill laying inside the folded paper, like a makeshift envelope.

Unfolding it further, he could see neat cursive handwriting.

This should get me a few more minutes with you, right?

☾

Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light

☾

(song lyrics credit: "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac)

TAGLIST for this series if you would like to be notified when I post new chapters!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddiemunson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #eddie munson slow burn #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x buckley!reader

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aziraphales-library · 1 day

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Hey! I'm not looking for a particular fic and maybe somebody's already asked this, but could you point me the way to kidfics where Crowley is the birthing parent? Idk if I'm just unlucky or bad at searching but it seems like almost all the 'one of them gives birth' fics have Aziraphale as the birth parent...

Hello! We do have a #pregnant crowley tag, so take a look at that. Here are some more fics to add to the collection...

Angel Baby by ARealPip (T)

Crowley is pregnant, and a group of doctors and nurses struggle valiantly to handle the gender-fluid inhuman patient who has suddenly shown up in their offices. Aziraphale does his very best to help put them at their ease. But it all goes a bit strange.

This Miraculous Child (Of Ours) by blackeyedblonde (E)

“Well?” Crowley asks, wretchedly pulling his sunglasses from his face. “Why isn’t your angelic juju doing me one better and nipping whatever this is in the arse?” The fact that Aziraphale has paled some himself and reached up to clutch at the front of his dressing gown doesn’t seem to bode well. “You—you’re with child, Crowley,” he says, just like that, in the messy parlor of this once-scourged effing bookshop in Soho where Crowley thought he’d lost the one thing he ever really cared about, the car be damned, since they unraveled into existence and millennia began.

More to Love by Sodium_Azide (E)

It's a new world, and the beginning of a new era. Crowley has never been happier in his long life, but, (ain't there always a but) he has his angel, he has his freedom, he has his Bentley and the whole world to explore, but he still wants more. Unexpectedly, he gets it. (an ineffable family fic)

The Way We're Made by dsaun (E)

After the almost-apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale attempt to settle back into their old routines. What they don't know is that their meddling in the great plan has piqued the creator's curiosity and she has other ideas. A drunken evening causes ineffable consequences and turns everything upside down.

beyond the river jordan by blackeyedblonde (E)

“I think it’s time we try and do the thing,” is what Crowley says, when the words finally wing up out of him one morning. “Do what, dear?” Aziraphale asks as he takes a scrubbing brush to the skillet they’d made eggs in. Behind them, Dove is smearing oatmeal and a bit of scramble around her highchair tray, blabbing good-naturedly in her little singsong voice while morning sunlight slants in just enough to make her strawberry hair shine like rose gold. “You know,” Crowley grunts, drying an antique porcelain plate with a particular furor that makes it consider breaking, though it wouldn’t dare so much as chip with the angel in the room. “Uh. Try again—for a baby. But swapped ‘round a bit so I do all the cooking.” Aziraphale calmly keeps up with his washing, though a little smile plays around his mouth and then gradually grows a bit wider. “Ah,” he says all too knowingly, which makes Crowley’s stomach lurch. “I’d been wondering when you’d feel ready to bring that up again.”

The Birds and the Bees for Ineffable Idiots by DarkAngel2891 (T)

Crowley doesn't know how reproduction works. Aziraphale is at a loss for words. Whatever the two where expecting it wasn't this. God ships Crowley and Aziraphale.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #pregnant crowley #pregnancy #mpreg #female presenting crowley #kid fic #mod d

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armysantiny · 6 hours

Text

12:44 – 재민 (Jaemin)

Min's notes: fun fact I literally started the word doc at 12:44 on Thursday :D this whole fic is self-indulgent honestly, I needed this on the day, bc this was exactly how much lunch break went haha. Just without Jaemin.

There’s an ache in y/n’s chest as she slumps into the booth. The office is awash with conversation, her colleagues all walking past on their way to the cafeteria. She’d join them, on a normal day, and bask in the reprieve it grants her away from her desk. But today, she just can’t seem to bring herself to get up, to go and join the general office population. Not when her chest is tight and coiled with self-loathing, a thick sludge that coats every part of her brain and body.

She just can’t do it today.

Lunch itself doesn’t seem all to appealing anymore, and she sets her lunchbox aside, silently grieving the lack of appetite while she downs an iced coffee, the second caffeinated beverage she’s had today. Maybe that’s what’s toying with her, y/n’s mind supplies, subtle palpitations aching to prove her threadbare theory right.

But the HR admin’s had more coffee without any adverse effects, and the true culprit of her turmoil taunts her again. It’s almost pathetic, how easily her train of thought slips into cruel lies, reminding y/n by the second of her imagined incompetence.

Always bothering them, always wasting everyone’s time. Utterly useless human being.

Her phone’s ringing. Her personal phone. The call’s answered before y/n can think about letting it ring out, a whisper of desperate hope that wants whoever it is on the other line to either save her from her thoughts or put her out of her damned misery. One way or another. She isn’t picky.

“Hello, my love,” Jaemin hums, his voice bright and cheerful and undeserving of y/n’s inner misery, “I’m picking up some things for dinner tonight, how’s work going?”

“I..” and the words clog in her throat, suffocating her with the threat of burning tears until she can force them out. “I think I’ll head home early today; I need a break.”

And on the other end, in the middle of the supermarket, Jaemin’s face knits into a frown, concern making a home in his chest. Y/n didn’t sound like she was upset that morning, but now? Now it sounds like the love of his life is fracturing around the edges, desperate for salvation of any kind. He needs to get a move on, hurry home and make sure everything’s in place to give his girlfriend the tenderness she needs.

He can start with a simple offer, however.

“Do you want me to come pick you up when I’m finished with the shopping?” Jaemin offers, standing in line for the cashier. He waits for an answer, counting the seconds as they drag on, each long and—

“Please, Min. I miss you..” Y/n’s voice hovers through, and Jaemin’s plans are set.

“I’ll be over as soon as I’m done, my love.”

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators, @blankjournal

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @kkooongie, @xavi-in-kpopland, @kyuzuberri, @marxenash, @honey-andmilktea | Taglist form

#Writer Elf Minnie #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #ultkpop #wkcnet #bjnet #nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #nct timestamps #nct dream timestamps #jaemin timestamps #nct fluff #jaemin fluff #nct angst #jaemin angst #nct x female reader #nct dream x female reader #jaemin x reader

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quimichi · 1 day

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TW: obsessive behavior, talk about self harm, death, gore, blood, corpses, choking, talk about you being dead, bleeding, bro there's so much - MDNI

SUMMARY: A twisted boy with a twisted mind and a twisted love just for you ♡

CHARACTERS: Yandere x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 841

𓉸ྀི Never EVER was Blake expecting to fall in love. At first sight too. He saw you and was instantly captured. My condolences, because with him in your life...it'll be turned upside down

𓉸ྀི You're his newest, recent hyperfixation, or better, obsession. Recent? Well, since he ever saw and read this short story in the internet, about death, killing, blood and guts, he was forever obsessed with it. Especially the graphic pictures that we're added for the "realism'. You see, one click on a link and a wrong turn can lead you down a dark alley filled with the darkest mysteries hold by internet. Hidden from those who would never dare step that far into an alley like this. Bit inviting and interesting to those curious enough to take a look...and forever be captivated.

𓉸ྀི with 12 year's old, exactly that happened. This weird 'dare' and a link went around school and of course 12 year olds are gonna jump on it like hungry wolves. His friend send him the link, he was dared to open it and take a look, but was to scared. So he send Blake the link also, so they can both take a look. Shared fear is only half the fear, right?

𓉸ྀི While his friend was throwinh up beside his bed, he kept scrolling. And scrolling...and scrolling. Weird...this doesn't affect him, at least not like his friend. Or how he thought it would. Everyone kept saying its gross, creepy and...twisted. Its odd that he, likes it.

𓉸ྀི His friend claimed he suddenly felt sick, so his mother picked him up. None of them wanted to raise suspicion of course...But the whole night long, Blake kept looking at the pictures over and over again, he read the story multiple times. He probably still knows it all word for word till this day. But what really captured his interest was that woman, how she looked in her own blood bath. Her guts hanging out, everywhere but inside her. Is this real? No it can't be right? No one would ever...

𓉸ྀི when he saw you, he saw that woman. You both look so similar. Maybe the eye color is a bit off, yours are a tiny bit darker but thats ok, you look just like her! Damn, even the hair!...he can't help but wonder if you would...no that's an unhealthy thought

𓉸ྀི he's 18 now, and for 5 years he was in the dark web looking for stories, pictures and videos like this to feed his constant hunger and need for more blood and gore. But he still knows, murder is wrong. But knowing is something else than doing. They both can go hand in hand, the only thing that's holding them both away from each other is the wall called self control.

𓉸ྀི He does have this wall, it just has multiple holes in it. Blake was no stranger to act on his impulsive thoughts. He cuts his arms sometimes when he wants to feel the pain or see the blood. He even tried the 'save way of cutting your wrist', the thrill of almost dying did send him over the edge....The research did help of course. He even tried choking himself, but that does not really do much for him unfortunately, there's nothing hot to it besides the bruises he left on his neck.

𓉸ྀི But right now the wall he trained to stand against the army of his running thoughts is about to crumble by just looking at you. You'd look so great in red, a deep dark red surrounding you...oozing out of y-no-! This is wrong-! He knows you're so so much more than a body, than a corpse. You have personality...damn you really look like you have a great personality.

𓉸ྀི...w-wait-you looked his way-! WHY ARE YOU SMILING AT HIM-! Was he looking at you this entire time?? Ugh, hes such a creep-! Yes, he knows he's one but he doesn't have to act like one to make it obvious- He's so weird, he doesn't deserve you, he would NEVER deserve you. The only thing that deserves him would be the maggots and the mould, eating his decomposed cadaver.

𓉸ྀི If it's not him, than it's definitely your smile that killed him right there and now, on spot. He's disgusting why are you looking like him. Why do you show interest. Why is he smiling back. And why does he really feel the need to hold you in his arms, and kiss you. A kiss that would probably be the beginning of cannibalism. Drag his mouth and theeth across your chest to taste your beating heart...if he thinks like this then living can be beautiful, and so are living things. I mean...you are most definitely beautiful. And you're alive.

𓉸ྀི But you'd be just as pretty dead, rotting and overcome with mould, having flys around you while your body drys out and sinks....but yeah you're maybe even a tiny bit more beautiful alive. (Much more but he can't say it just yet)

TAGLIST: @lucienbarkbark @hehothrowawayfae

#yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #oc x reader #oc #Blake x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #yandere x female reader

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lostfirefly · 3 days

Text

What do you do? What do you do in the bath?

I've been incredibly productive this week. I will probably be less active next week, because I need to prepare for the 3D animation course test. English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist is here

I'm not confident in writing smut. So I apologize in advance.

Decription: Buggy came home from a short tour. He and Catherine are taking a bath. Something gets out of control :)

Warnings: SFW (fun, domestic fluff) turns into NSFW (Cathie-pie seduces her clown), MDNI

Words: 4749

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots, @hey-august

The title is taken from "In the Bath" by Lemon Jelly (don't laugh!).

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Catherine periodically came to the window with a glass of wine. She glanced first at the clock, then out the window. She heard the sound of a car door closing and ran to the window again.

“Not my little bear…” She sighed, took a bottle of wine and went to the sofa.

Catherine was lying on the sofa with a book when she heard the sound of keys in the front door and heavy footsteps.

"Cotton candy, I'm home!" She heard her favorite deep voice from the corridor.

"Finally!!!" Catherine jumped up from the couch and ran to the front door and saw Buggy leaning with his back against the wall. She clenched her hands into fists and started squealing.

"My Buggy Bea-a-r!!!!" Catherine jumped on Buggy, hugging him with her arms and legs. "Hi, hi, hi!!" Smack. Smack. Smack.

“First, hi! Second, it's still a disgusting nickname when you are gonna change it? Third, this is for you! I bought it.” He handed her a bouquet of blue carnations.

“Liar!!” Smack. “I’m pretty sure you stole it!” Smack. “Thanks!” Smack. “So beautiful!” Smack. “Your nickname remains!” Smack. “I missed you!” Smack. Smack. Smack.

“First, why pay for a bouquet when I can easily steal it?” Buggy shrugged, trying to pretend he doesn't like smacks. “Second, I have only been gone for two days and already such a greeting! I like it!!” He carried Catherine into the bedroom.

“You were gone for two whole days, my red-nose thief!” Smack. Smack. Smack. “How did everything go? Did the fangirls attack you? Found yourself a new girlfriend?” Catherine stroked his head. “I'm sorry I couldn't go with you. Women's things finished me off.” She kissed him on his lips.

“Are you out of your mind? Why do I need some other girl? Everything went fine!” Buggy put Catherine on the bed. “Feeling better already?” He took the bouquet and sent his hand to place it in a vase on the night table.

“Yes! By the way, what kind of strange thing did you send me? I didn’t get the sense.” Catherine wiped her lips, took out her phone and showed the photo.

“Damn! You have me listed under that fucking nickname here, too.” Buggy placed his hand on her waist, glanced at her, pretending he’s unhappy with the recording. “And this isn't a strange thing. Honey, it’s you.”

"It's a bush, Buggy!” Catherine put her hand on his shoulder.

“No-o-o, it's you!” He pointed his finger at the photo.

“In what universe is this me?"

“It looks like you! See? Here’s the hair, the hands. And if you look closely at these branches, this is your “I hate you” face. I saw it, thought about you, and wanted to show it to you.”

“I can't believe that the love of my life compared me to a bush.” Catherine kissed Buggy on his head, started jumping on the bed and watched him change into his home clothes. “You sent a message that you'll be home in an hour. And it's already been two. Where have you been, jackass? How's the journey home?”

“Disgusting. I had to put a couple of my freaks in the car, and they kept whining. Sometimes they were hot, sometimes they were cold. And we had to stop periodically.” Buggy looked at her, pulling off his sock. “Why are you laughing, little shit?”

“It’s amazing to listen to one of the most whiny persons in the world complain about what others complain about.” Catherine smiled and

“Go to hell, honestly! I never whine!”

“You're always whining. When we returned from our adventure, you whined that after the celebration we hadn't had sex in three days. Then you whined that I forgot to cut off the crust on the sandwich and thought that I was upset with you. Then you whined when you realized that I wasn’t offended. Two days ago, you were whining that the sheets weren't soft enough.”

“In my defense, three and even two days without sex is a lot, cotton candy. You like tormenting me, right? Fuck, I’m so tired, I'm declaring a day off tomorrow.” He was rummaging through the shelves. “Where are my pants, cotton candy?”

“Third shelf from the bottom!” She pointed to the closet and continued jumping. “Hah! You can't do anything without me. You can't even find your pants!”

“I can find everything. I lived somehow before you!” He squatted down and looked at the shelf.

“Come on!” Catherine stopped jumping and crossed her arms. “You probably wore holey socks, walked around in dirty pants and ate something unknown. So since you have a day off tomorrow, maybe we can go for a walk tomorrow? I would hold your hand…” She made waves with her hands.

“I’ll think about it. Shit, I’m hungry!” He pulled on his pajama pants and turned to her.

Catherine couldn't resist and jumped on him with her legs. "Then take me to the kitchen, my hero!" She ran her fingers over his stubble. “Is it difficult to put on a t-shirt?”

“I thought you missed this view too.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips. She hugged him tightly around his neck, kicking her legs happily.

Buggy carried Catherine into the kitchen, grumbling for her to stop moving her legs and kissing his nose, although he secretly adored these manifestations of her feelings, and her lively personality. She knew that he was just groaning and would never admit that he liked it.

When they came to the kitchen, Catherine jumped off him and ran to the refrigerator.

"Sit down and relax, my love! Look what I bought for you!" She took two bottles of beer from the fridge. "Your favorite!"

"You are my best!" Buggy looked at her over his shoulder.

Catherine put the bottles on the table for him, kissed him on his cheek and ran to the stove. "And I cooked your favorite mac and cheese!" She took out a plate and began serving him a portion. "I also baked almond cookies. I bet your fangirls don't care about you that much!" She giggled.

“I don’t have fangirls, stop mocking me!” Buggy took a sip of beer. “I have enough of you pissing me off every time! Oh, by the way, I bought you a gift.” He detached his hand and sent it to the bag. “I couldn't leave you without a gift.” The hand brought a small package and gave it to Catherine's hand.

“I will never stop admiring your chop chop.” She smiled and carefully opened the package. “What's here? Raspberry marshmallows sticks, a bottle of wine. Yummy!! What is this?” She took out a small figurine of a bear sitting under a lilac bush. “Oh, my god! Buggy…”

“You told me how your father gave your mother lilacs. I saw this figurine and thought it would remind you of them. And I bought it. Ok, I stole it. Why are you looking at me like that?” Buggy asked with his mouth full, chewing pasta.

“You remember the story. This figure is amazing! And also this little bear. It's you and my parents. Can I put this on the shelf in the bedroom?” Catherine looked at him with wet eyes.

“Put it wherever you want.”

“I'll put a figurine next to a picture of you and me. Thank you!” Catherine ran up to him, placed the plate on the table and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm glad that you remember my words even when I'm dressed, asshole. Love, love, love you!!”

Catherine put the figurine on the table, plopped down on a chair next to Buggy, watched him happily wrap pasta on his fork and wash down his food with beer. She stroked his hair. "Tasty?"

Buggy nodded, narrowed his eyes contentedly, and kissed her on the lips.

“Don't come at me with your oily lips, clown!” Catherine wiped her mouth with a towel, hugged his arm and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m so happy you’re finally home.”

“Cathie-pie, my hand.” Buggy turned his head slightly towards her, looking at her questioningly. “How would I eat if you grabbed my hand?”

“I don't care! Think of something.”

Buggy shrugged and separated the part of his hand that was holding the beer.

Catherine glanced at him. “Seriously? Instead of hugging me, you’re doing this?!”

“What? I’m hungry.” Buggy wrapped the pasta around his fork. Slurping, he finished eating, threw his fork on the table and took a sip of beer. "Everything was delicious! Thank you!" Buggy looked at Catherine and put his hand on her shoulder.

“You’re always welcome. Could you imagine, if you'd left me in the desert, you'd be eating nothing but breadcrumbs with water right now.” She kissed him on the nose.

“Fuck! I didn't leave you! You will remember this to me for the rest of your life, right?” Buggy stretched. "Fuck, my back. I suggest we move to the couch." He took the beer and extended his hand to her.

“Go to the living room, I’ll be right back, I’ll just put the plates in the dishwasher.” She gave him another peck on the nose and kicked him out into the living room.

Catherine poured herself a glass of wine and went to Buggy, “My little bear, I’m coming to you! Let’s spe~..” She entered the living room and saw him lying on the sofa, quietly snoring. Catherine smiled, tiptoed over to the snuffling body, covered Buggy with a blanket and kissed him on the head. “Tired. Okay! I'll go to the bath then.” She whispered to herself.

Catherine quietly went into the bedroom to get pajama pants and Buggy’s t-shirt, grabbed a glass of wine and went to the bathroom. She lit the candles, poured bath salts and added bubbles. Catherine took off her clothes and lay down in the hot water. She took a sip of the wine and closed her eyes, exhaling several times. She placed her hand on the edge of the bathtub and felt a hand on her arm.

“Oh, shit!!” Catherine jumped slightly, opened her eyes and saw Buggy sitting next to her and looking at her. “I almost had a heart attack! What are you doing here? You were sleeping on the couch.”

“You said that you would come to me. I opened my eyes, you weren’t there, and I went looking for you.” He blushed.

“I knew you missed me!” Catherine narrowed her eyes playfully.

“Fuck you! Yes, I missed you. Are you going to cut me into pieces for this? You know perfectly that you can slice me, you can dice me, and I~” Buggy let go of her hand.

“What? No! Don't be offended!” Catherine took his hand and pulled him towards her, kissing him on the lips. Buggy started giggling during the kiss. Catherine pulled her head back. “What's so funny, clown?”

“You're naked. I can see your breasts!”

“Oh, God! Are you 10 years old?”

“Hey! I’m over 30! But I’m always happy to see you naked. And here you are lying in the bathtub. All so sexy.” Buggy started giggling again.

“That’s it! Get out of here!” Catherine started pulling him out of the bathroom.

“But why? Can I sit next to you?” Buggy stared at her with pleading eyes.

“Go away, fucking clown!”

He sighed, stood up and walked out the door.

“Buggy!” Catherine immediately shouted.

“What?” His head looked into the bathroom.

“Seriously? I can't believe you just up and left.” Catherine straightened one leg above the water and winked at him. “Would you like to join me?”

“Two minutes ago you kicked me out, and now you’re calling me to join.” Buggy stood there in bewilderment.

“Well, if you don’t want to, fine. You could touch my naked body.” She lightly touched him with her foot.

“Oh, you’re a dirty girl, Catherine Mitchell!” Buggy grinned, closed the door and quickly took off his pants and underwear.

“Yes, I'm like that sometimes! But I still blame you for spoiling me.” Catherine looked him up and down, blushed, and moved to the other side of the bath.

“Yeah, yeah, a bad horny clown spoiled a decent little princess.” Buggy sat down in the bath, and she immediately leaned her back against his chest.

“Ts! I didn't give you permission to talk!” Catherine gently ran her fingertips along his cheek and, feeling that he placed his arms around her waist, put her hands on his arms. “Do you remember the rules that I introduced after last time?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Buggy buried his face in her hair and sighed.

“What happened, little bear?” She started stroking his fingers.

“Nothing. Glad to be home. Glad that someone is waiting for me at home. Glad I'm not alone anymore.” He mumbled into her hair.

“I’ll always wait f~!” Catherine's eyes widened as she felt one of his hands slowly begin to move down to her thigh. "What are you doing? Take your hand back!" She grabbed his hand and placed it on her waist. “Don't break the rules, Buggy! No chop chop things in this room! Or I’ll leave, and you’ll remain a grown man taking a bubble bath.”

“So unfair!” Buddy said sadly. “You're lying with me completely naked! I see your breasts! Your nip~!”

Catherine covered his mouth with her hand. “Shush! Stop saying these inappropriate things!”

Buggy removed her hand from his mouth and watched as she blushed when he started whispering in her ear. Her eyes widened.

“No! We won’t do anything! We’re taking a bath. Rules, Buggy!” There was already less confidence in Catherine's voice. “And keep your.. your.. you know.. little Buggy with you.” She closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder.

“You've never complained about him before! And he’s not little!” There was indignation in his voice.

“Oh, I knew you'd pick up on that, pervert!”

“I'm offended to the core, cotton candy. Well, tell me, what did you do without me?” Buggy asked quietly.

“Hm.. I went to the cinema, walked, sat in a cafe with a book and lay on the couch. And what did you do?” Catherine asked softly. She liked listening to his stories about everything and nothing, listening to how his days were spent.

“Well, we rehearsed a lot. I played cards with Cabaji. Won a bottle of beer. He often asks about you. I do not like it.” Buggy pouted.

“Someone is jealous!!” Catherine pressed her back closer.

“I’m not!”

“You're so jealous that you will turn even more gray with anger. He's just happy for you. That's all.” Catherine straightened her leg slightly. "Great, huh?"

Buggy tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “What exactly? Your beautiful legs or your naked body?”

“No, asshole. Just lie there together.”

“Not so bad.” Buggy took her hand and kissed it. “I love you, my Cathie-pie.”

Catherine turned around and looked at him with round eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He kissed her hand again.

“You… You just said 'I love you' ahead of me for the first time.” Catherine ran her finger along his arm.

“Hey, I always tell you this!”

“You tell me this when we are... Well, you know. In bed. When you are... Well, you know. But at these moments you are a little crazy.” She stroked his cheek. “Love you too. And I’m so happy I met you.”

“Well, I'll thank myself for that. I'll thank myself for finding you.” Buggy said it with a proud grin and kissed her temple.

“You didn't find me. I was brought to you.” She squeezed his hand.

“It still counts, cotton candy. You've succumbed to my charm.”

Catherine rolled her eye. “Oh, for God's sake, there was no charm! You pissed me off!”

“I beg to differ, you're the one who stayed with me, and now you're lying naked with me in the bathtub.” Buggy kissed her temple again.

“Oh, fuck you, clown! Well, tell me who else you took a bath with. There were probably a lot of girls here. But do you remember? If you don't want to, don't tell me.” Catherine twirled a strand of his hair around her finger.

“There was no one here. Who will take a bath with me? The tub stood almost idle until someone pretty and cheerful occupied it. And I didn’t wash very often.” Buggy shrugged.

“Yes, I noticed. You rarely do this even now, sometimes I have to remind you to wash yourself.”

“I'm surprised that you willingly lie here with me. Do you remember when I brought you from the airport?” Buggy reddened.

“And you immediately dragged me into the bedroom, I remember.”

“Hey, you didn't mind. Our first time was good then, right?” He sighed happily. “I will probably remember this day even on my deathbed.”

Catherine glanced at Buggy and took another strand of his hair. “Do you even remember anything besides sex? Don't know. Our walks in the evenings, how you constantly steal the flowers for me.”

“Sorry, your naked body and moans knock the rest of the moments out of my memory.” He giggled.

“Idiot and liar. So... You wanted to say something.” Catherine felt how his hands started trembling a little.

“Well, in the morning I woke up, and to be honest, I thought that you had already packed your things and ran to the airport. Don't know. Realizing that that was your big mistake. But I saw you sleeping next to me, holding my hand. It was so strange. And it's still strange.” Buggy felt he became nervous and felt how Catherine started stroking his palm.

“First of all, clown, I wouldn't go anywhere. I'm sorry, but you did such a thing to me that it was hard to walk. Secondly, I love you. Third, thank you for telling me this. I’m so proud of you.” She ran her fingertips along his stubble. “You are so prickly. I like it.”

Catherine stretched out her leg and tried to grab the washcloth with her fingers, but went under the water. She quickly surfaced and laughed loudly. “Damn! I thought it would be sexy, but I’m like a manatee on ice.”

“You okay?” Buggy pulled her closer.

“Totally.” Catherine took a lock of his hair. "So long and beautiful. Oh, I want to wash your hair!"

Buggy looked at her questioningly. “No! I can wash my hair myself.”

“Ple-e-ease! You're tired from the road! You never let me do this!” Catherine looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I said no!”

“And I said yes!” She reached for the shampoo, stood up and heard him chuckle. “What amused you again?”

“You're all naked.” Buggy scratched his nose. “Your body. So much better than I even remembered.”

“Oh m~. Stop grabbing my ass!” She slapped his hands, sat behind him and wet his hair. “Shit! I can swim in your bathtub like a whale. See?” Catherine lay down in the water, spun around twice and laughed loudly. “Why do you need such a huge one?”

Buggy laughed as he watched her splash her hands in the water. “Well, I was hoping that one day I would end up here with a very beautiful red-haired whale who would fill all surfaces with fucking scented candles and oils, and would torture me in every possible way.”

“It's not torment, clown. It's called caring. I like taking care of you. And I saw you smelling my candles.” Catherine settled behind him and let his hair down.

Buggy exhaled heavily.

“What happened, little bear?”

“Nothing. I'm still surprised that someone doesn't run away from me early in the morning. That I see someone in the morning dishevelled and wearing stupid pants with animals on them.” He closed his eyes.

“This someone in pants is also very happy to see you nearby.” Catherine wet his hair, poured some shampoo into her hand, and gently ran it through Buggy’s hair. "If it's unpleasant, tell me." She washed each strand carefully, and humming softly, she noticed a slight smile on his face. She gently massaged his head and then ran her hands through the strands. Every time Catherine wet his hair, it changed to a more emerald shade. She couldn't contain her delight and kept saying “wow”. She gently ran her hands through his hair, untangling small tangles with her fingers and rinsed them again.

“It was worth going away for a couple of days for that.” Buggy chuckled. He sat with his eyes closed and a slight grin on his face.

“I'm done with your hair, my love. Now let's wash your face. Can I?” She watched him make a face, but nodded. She took some lotions from the shelf and sat on his lap. Buggy chuckled as she began to gently rub the moistened pad over her face.

“What's so funny?”

“You're sitting on me naked.” Buggy wrapped his arms around her waist.

“You’re disgusting!” Catherine immediately began wiping his lips. “That's it! Shut your dirty mouth!” She gently moved the discs over his face, removing layer by layer of all his makeup. “Here you are! Hi!”

“Hi.”

Catherine couldn't resist and kissed him on the lips. He immediately pulled her closer.

“I missed you.” She kissed his forehead and wrinkled her nose slightly.

“Same thing.” Buggy answered in a whisper.

“Okay, it’s time to get out of the bath. Let's lie on the couch, drink alcohol, eat chips, and watch stupid shows. Good, huh? I’ll just rinse off in the shower.” Catherine kissed him on his cheek.

“And what about me?” Buggy looked at her questionably.

“And you go to the shower stall, clown. Otherwise, our joint bath will end badly.” Catherine blushed.

“You understand that this day will end like this anyway?” He winked at her.

“Get out!” She gently pushed him out of the bath.

Buggy took a brief shower to ensure he did not miss anything and sat next to the tub, keeping his gaze on Catherine.

She took out a washcloth and shower gel and, stretching her leg again, began to slowly move the washcloth along her leg.

“God, this is such a turn on!” He said quietly.

Catherine noticed how he began to fidget. “Like it?” She winked.

“You're playing a dangerous game, Catherine Mitchell!” Buggy tried to hold on by crossing one leg over the other leg. “Please, can I join?”

“Na-ah! Just watch, don't touch!” She bit her lower lip, narrowed her eyes playfully, and continued moving the washcloth.

“It's unfair! Do you even understand what you're doing, woman?” He swallowed. “Please! I wanna join and help you!”

“Someone is going to die.” Catherine slowly moved the washcloth along her other leg. “Patience, my silly clown!” She ran the washcloth over her arms and back, periodically glancing at how Buggy became redder and tried his best to hide his quickening breathing.

Catherine quickly rinsed off and was about to grab a towel when she felt Buggy’s hand on her wrist. "Hey! What the hell is this?"

Catherine slowly turned around and saw Buggy climbing into her bathtub. “You've already taken off your panties, you scoundrel. What about rules?”

“I don't use chop chop, see?” He showed her his hands, pressing his entire naked body lightly against hers. “Technically, I'm not breaking anything.”

Catherine placed one foot on the edge of the tub and ran her fingertips through the hair on his chest. “Did someone lose their temper, huh?”

“Because one little shit is behaving badly.” Buggy kissed her on the lips and felt her hand run down his stomach. “Very, very badly.”

“Stop talking, fucking clown. I'm standing here nak~.” She didn’t have time to finish the sentence.

Catherine swifty wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her into a searing, biting kiss. The growl in his throat grew louder with each passing second.

“Oh, fuck! I missed you!” Buggy said in a low, husky voice. His hands gripped her hips and shifted her up. Catherine gasped into his kiss, which shifted from soft and tender to passionate very quickly.

“I knew that, a little creep!” She leaned forward, gripped his bottom lip between her teeth, and gave him a rough, biting kiss. Catherine felt it. Felt that she wanted to lose control in the tension of his arms as he held her.

She moaned through the kiss when Buggy thrust up into her. One long, fast stroke that made her feel like she was breaking into little pieces. His hands gripped her at the hips tighter and moved her up and down. With every stroke of him, they were getting closer to the pleasure they both desired. Every movement made her arch and moan like a cat. Catherine found herself kissing and biting at every single inch of his skin. Buggy’s lips nibbled at every part of her body that he could reach, causing tiny bruises on her skin as their breathing and movements got increasingly chaotic with each upward stroke. Buggy arched up into her, unable to stop himself. His fingers pressed into the skin of her hips, an animalistic sound pouring forth from him, as she pressed further down. His name was the only word on her lips.

“Say it. Say you’re mine,” Buggy thrust deeper, and she whined at the feeling of him inside her. She’d known he belonged there from the first time she’d taken him in herself. “Tell me I’m not gonna lose you.”

Catherine breathed and kissed him. “I promise, you can’t lose me. I’m yours.”

“Tell me,” with his every word, his every move became more aggressive. “Tell me only I can protect you, that only I can take care of you. Say it.”

“You can protect me,” Catherine looked into his eyes, placing her hands on the back of his head. “Only you can take care of me, I promise.” She kissed him.

“Let me love you,” Buggy fucked her deep, hard, greedy. “Say it. Tell me that only I can love you, that it’s safe to love you.”

“You can love me. It's safe. I never hurt you. I promise.” She could barely say anything, pulling him closer.

Buggy moaned against her lips and fucked her, never slowing down, making her orgasm never really go away. He kissed her, pressed down deeply inside her then, causing her back to arch and her legs to tighten around his hips.

She moaned near his lips. “I need to feel you, please, please..”

“You’re mine, Cathie-pie.” He kissed her again, started fucking her a little harder and faster, driving the pleasure closer.

“I’m so close, don't stop.” Catherine felt him press deeply and pulse inside her, stimulating her orgasm. “Just a little mo~. A lit~. Fuck…”

Buggy let out one deep groan, feeling they came together, his body went slack for a moment before, and he buried his face in the crock of her neck. He was silent for a while.

“You okay?” Catherine asked, stroking his head. She felt every beat of his heart.

“Yeah. Fuck, it was great, right?” He kissed her forehead.

“Are you asking for a compliment, a little brat?” Catherine said mockingly and pecked him on his lips.

“Are you sure you're okay? Didn't I hurt you?” Buggy examined her body carefully.

“Why are you asking? What happened?” Catherine stroked his shoulder.

“I don't know. I feel like I overdid a little.”

“Well, you were extremely talkative today. But everything was amazing.” She noticed his worried eyes. “What's wrong, Buggy? Are you worried about something?”

“No! I mean yes. Tell me you meant all that.” He said quietly and looked into her eyes.

“What? Are you still afraid of s~.”

“Cathie-pie, please.”

“Of course, my blue-haired love.” Catherine gently kissed him on his lips. “I meant every word. I promise. You can protect me. I know you will protect me. Come on, you saved me from the cage! And I won't hurt you. And I won't leave you. And you're safe with me. And you know why?” She stroked his hair. “Because I love you so, so much, my Buggy Bear.”

“Love you too, my cotton candy. Hey, listen... Can I ask a question?”

“I guess the fact that you're still inside me doesn't give me the right to refuse?” She chuckled. “Ask me anything you want.” She ran her fingers over his stubble.

“I’m hungry again, and I missed your pancakes. Will you make me some?”

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