#Expect them to keep it stable and not to break it when it really is just my problem

[ghostlylexie]

Slight vent art (doodle?) I made for what I feel for basically every art piece I make recently

Nothing looks right and when people try to give me advice it goes in one ear and out the other, and what I'm left with in my head is that I suck and nothing I do can ever be as good as others

[camerahaterlittle]

Our girl | A. Putellas I. Engen & M. Leon

Summary: You may be Alexia's daughter but your Mapi and Ingrid's girl

Warnings: bad writing grammar and Mapi is apart of this if you don't like that then leave mentions of pain and more from a car crash

Notes: apparently I wrote 2k words yet it doesn't feel or look like it anyways once again an incredibly short fic but enjoy

Previous part

You hadn't noticed the car that was driving at you while you crossed the street because of the heavy rainfall and the darkness of the night but the moment you had noticed the car and the person driving noticed you it was far too late.

You couldn't move out of the way you were frozen and the driver slammed on the brakes yet it still wasn't enough due to the slippery roads the car still rammed into you.

Your scream echoed throughout the street and you felt pain coming from everywhere possible. You heard a car door opening and then shutting. After a minute of you laying there you heard the person's rapid Spanish as they called the police trying to get them out here.

You laid there motionless, your heart racing as the woman you soon noticed was the person who hit you and tried to keep you awake like the dispatcher had told her to.

Eventually when the ambulance got there they immediately rushed to grab you and put you on the stretcher and into the back of their truck as they put an oxygen mask over your nose and mouth.

And in this moment, all that was running through your head before you lost consciousness was Mapi and Ingrid, the two people who really cared for you and loved you without any expectations.

At the hospital, you underwent multiple surgeries on your legs and shoulder from when you crumbled to the floor after being hit by the car.

Alexia rushed into the hospital running up to the front desk trying to catch her breath before speaking to the front desk associate. “My daughter Y/n Y/n Putellas where is she? Is she okay?.” Alexia asked, rushing through her words much like how she rushed inside the hospital.

The front desk associate looked up at Alexia quickly looking up your name in the system seeing that you were currently in surgery and couldn’t be seen by anyone at the moment. “Your daughter is currently in surgery Ms. Putellas you cannot see her, you'll have to wait until she’s out of surgery and possibly more after that her doctor will let you know when it’s safe.” 

The midfielder sighed, shaking her head at the man’s words, not pleased to hear that she wouldn’t be able to see her kid before walking away from the front desk starting to pace in the waiting room, her mind racing about what could possibly happen to you while you were in surgery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alexia sat in the uncomfortable hospital chair, her leg bouncing while she picked at her fingers her head lifted immediately when she heard a doctor clearing their throat to get the people’s attention. “Y/n Putellas.” The doctor glanced around the room watching as Alexia rushed up and out of the chair and towards her. 

“Yes, is she okay, I'm her mother.” The Spaniard said looking down at the doctor hoping she’d have some good news about how you were doing.

The doctor nodded looking down at her clipboard for a second trying to figure out how she’d break this to Alexia about how you fully were. “Yes, she's stable right now. She just had to have emergency surgery on her legs, shoulder, and her ribs are bruised. I’m surprised that’s all she needed really given the speed she was hit at.” Your doctor responded. 

Alexia stood there in shock at the doctor's words, unsure of what to say after that. “C… Can I see her?” Alexia asked after a moment of standing there, her voice surprisingly quiet and weak sounding for once. 

The woman sighed thinking about Alexia’s question before shaking her head. She knew it wouldn’t be the best for the taller women to see her daughter at the moment since you looked pretty banged up. “I’m sorry Ms. Putellas but you can’t see her right now. I think you should come back tomorrow if you really want to see her.” Your doctor responded slightly scared to hear Alexia’s response to this. 

The Spanish star rubbed her face trying to control her emotions. She finally moved, shaking her head as she left the hospital not trusting herself to drive when she was so upset over everything that has happened in the last couple of hours so she just waved down a cab getting inside giving the man her address.

By the time Alexia got home it was well into the night and she immediately fell onto the couch, her eyes shutting as she finally got some much needed rest yet her sleep wasn't the most peaceful in the world. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Alexia was rudely woken up by rapid knocks on her door while also hearing muffled curse words in both Norwegian and Spanish she got up off the couch after a moment yawning already knowing who to expect on the other side of the door she opened the door she went to run a hand through her hair yet was stopped by the slightly taller Norwegian shoving her backwards Mapi immediately moving past both of them to try and find you. 

Ingrid looked at Alexia with a coldest glare that the midfielder has ever seen come from her. Alexia was over surprised that it was Ingrid giving her the glare instead of Mapi yet didn’t voice what she thought. “Where the hell is she, Putellas.” Ingrid spoke her tone filled with venom the moment she said Putellas. 

Alexia was once again taken aback by Ingrid’s harshness yet she also expected it based on the way Ingrid reacted during your fight when she had unexpectedly showed up to admittedly to maybe start a fight with you for almost no reason. “It’s none of your business where Y/n is, it's not like you two are her mother's, she is my daughter.” Your mother responded with her tone matching ingrid’s. 

The slightly taller woman’s anger grew as she listened to her teammates words she wants to say that she’s not really your mother given the fact that Alexia was never there for you to give you the love and care a real mother would have (much like her and Mapi have done ever since you guys have met). 

“You're not her mother and you never have been, you just birthed her and didn’t care about what happened to her afterwards.

Me and Mapi have been taking care of her ever since we have met her. She is more of our daughter than yours. Sometimes blood doesn’t always make DNA now tell us where our kid is.” Ingrid said her expression grew colder the longer Alexia didn’t tell her where you were. 

Alexia’s gaze hardened for a moment knowing the Norwegian had a very good point but before she could respond Mapi came out of your room breathing heavily after searching Alexia’s entire apartment. “She’s not here, I've looked everywhere possible.” Mapi said moving to stand next to Ingrid slightly confused as to why her girlfriend was glaring at Alexia like she was. 

The Spanish star turned her attention towards her ex best friend knowing she’d now for sure have to tell the couple where you currently were. “Y-Y/n she’s in the hospital.” Alexia finally said, looking away from the both of them. 

Without another word the couple left Alexia’s place going to try and figure out what hospital you were in. They were incredibly worried about you and what could’ve possibly happened to you for you to be in the hospital. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ingrid and Mapi rushed inside the hospital and up to the front desk making the worker look up at them, stopping his keyboard typing. “Hi yes are you here to visit someone or do you need to be seen.” The front desk worker spoke looking from them to his screen. 

“We’re here to see Y/n Putellas.” Mapi said speaking before Ingrid even could and Ingrid was glad for that since she wasn’t even sure that words would even leave her mouth. 

The man at the desk nodded looking something up on his computer before looking back up at the couple in front of him. “Who are you to the patient?” The guy asked, clearly tired of working. 

This time it was Ingrid who answered rushing through her words “We’re her mother’s.” Her Norwegian accent more apparent than normal. 

He pulled out two stickers for them while telling them your room number before letting them pass, not bothering to check them for ID just deciding to let them go, figuring that they were too worried to sit here and wait any longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mapi pushed open the door immediately once they got there they both entered the room seeing you laying on the bed hooked up to multiple machines that were filling the room with a somewhat quiet beeping noise. 

They both ahd to hold back their tears seeing you laying there pretty much life less affected them more than anything possible Ingrid made her way over to you sitting down on the edge of the bed gently grabbing your hand wondering how this could’ve happened to their kid. 

Mapi stood in the doorway for a moment watching her girlfriend before closing the door sitting down in the chair near the midfielder placing her hand on the Norwegian’s thigh trying to comfort her in this difficult moment. 

They didn’t say anything for a while yet along with the beeping filling the room so did their sniffles from crying while they stayed by your side wishing they would’ve never let you leave their place just to talk to Alexia. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mapi was woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of your voice as you got adjusted to the noise around you once more she sat up opening her eyes seeing you looking between her and Mapi. 

“Maps, it hurts really bad.” You said once you noticed that she was awake your voice sounded like you smoked 10 packs a day.

Mapi was up in an instant making her way over to your hospital bed nodding as she grabbed your hand making sure to inflict anymore pain on you. “I know sol I know,” She reached over grabbing the remote looking thing calling a nurse so they could check you out and give you some pain meds.

You glanced around your hospital room trying to see if you could spot Ingrid in the almost pitch black room. “Where’s Ingrid, is she not here?” You asked looking back at the fellow Spaniard hoping the woman’s partner was also here. 

The defender nodded leaving your side for a moment walking over to where Ingrid was sleeping, gently shaking her girlfriend. Once Ingrid fully woke up she sat up listening to Mapi’s words before getting up her and Mapi going to sit on the sides of your bed just like you had wanted.

You were surprised the couple had actually shown up for you since Alexia or anyone in your family besides Jenni showed up when you were hurt in any way that caused you to be in the hospital. They always told you to walk it off or I didn’t know it was thst bad. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and shortly afterwards it opened a doctor and a nurse came in to check on you and make sure everything was still okay with you and to tell Mapi and Ingrid what happened and the surgeries you had.

You were zoned out the whole time they were checking everything out and giving you some more pain meds thinking about everything under the sun as the doctor’s did their thing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The couple had been distracted by talking to you and making jokes trying to keep your mind off of Alexia, what had just happened, and how you wouldn’t be able to box for quite some time, something that annoyed you since it was your escape from everything. 

But your guy’s conversation was interrupted by your birth giver entering your hospital room, her eyes immediately landing on Mapi and Ingrid who were still by your side. 

Ingrid got up the moment she saw Alexia standing in the doorway of your room she made her way over her teammate the Norwegian’s energy shifting as she glared at the Spaniard your’s and Mapi’s attention shifted the both of you ready to step in (though Mapi would be the only one getting up) if you absolutely needed to. 

“What are you doing here, Putellas?” The slightly taller woman asked her tone unwelcoming to the woman’s presence. 

Alexia’s expression hardened at the fellow midfielder’s glare yet still tried to stand her ground “I could ask you the same Engen she’s not your daughter no matter what you two may think.”

Ingrid tensed up trying her damned hardest to not do anything to the woman in front of her the unsaid anger she felt for what Alexia had done to you waiting to be taken out on her yet before she could say anything your voice stopped her.

“I am their daughter. You may feel guilty for what you’ve done to me but that doesn’t fix any of the cracks you’ve caused. They are my mother’s not you, you've chosen to take the title, just not the responsibility.” You took a moment to breathe and get your emotions under control. 

“They took on the responsibility for me, not you. They showed up from me when I needed them most. You were never too focused on your precious football for me even with them playing. They still made time for me; they never made me feel worse for having mental issues knowing I was only moments away from death.” 

“You made things worse, they made things better, they got me the help I needed, they did everything that you my so called mother was supposed to do and I could never thank them enough for that they actually love me unlike you.” Mapi gently squeezed your hand knowing that you needed this more than anyone in this room.”

“Y/n I-.” Alexia started going to speak now that she thought you were done.

“No, don't even know why you showed up here. I have Mapi and Ingrid. They have me. I'm fine I don't want you here, I don't even want to see you right now.” 

Your actual mom’s were secretly proud of you for stepping up to Alexia not once but twice they were more than happy that you were no longer holding back against your more than childish mother.

Alexia stood there in shock yet she felt the pain since she knew you were right she was never there only taking the title as your mother yet never doing anything a mother should be doing for their child she felt more than guilty for what she had done to you and she didn’t know how to fix it and help the bond between you two yet something deep inside her was telling her there was no way of fixing the bond and everything she put you through.

Alexia stood there for a while longer feeling slightly uncomfortable under all three of you's gazes trying to figure out if she should respect what you want for once in your life or protest on things and attempt to fix things. 

Yet before she could decide Ingrid stepped in much like she has been in the last few days clearing her throat before she spoke. “You heard it live from her yourself she doesn’t want you here so just leave she’ll come to you when she’s ready.” The Norwegian spoke leaving no room for argument. 

The Spanish star nodded after a moment leaving without a fight, her head hung low with her shoulders slumped forward as she left trying to get her head on straight after everything that had just happened. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alexia pulled into the driveway parking her car as she sat in the seat staring ahead of her, her expression blank not a single emotion showing as she sat there.

She got out the car unlocking the door with her spare key immediately making her way towards the familiar bedroom, opening it seeing the one person that she needed most lying there reading whatever book that Alexia bought her.

Olga looked up watching as her girlfriend climbed into the bed looking quite defeated over things the woman put her book to the side welcoming the football player into her arms not mentioning the tears that started to soak through her shirt. 

Only holding the girl close whispering the softest of things to the woman laying on her chest. 

“Y/n she… she hates me my own daughter hates me.” Alexia whimpered against Olga’s chest, her heart breaking more than it ever could much like Olga’s did when she heard Alexia’s words.

[sweeterthancandy]

crush

she looks like she works with her hands

and smells like marlboro reds

pairing: farmhand!abby x femme!farmers daughter!reader yeah yeah CLICHE but i yearn to be touched by a big cowgirl sue me

warnings: lotsssss of pet names, fingering, cunnilingus, barn sex?, fluffy mega gay sex idk🐇

youve always held an fascination for abby, the strong girl. stood well over six feet and could pick up a hay bail with ease.

it was a sweltering july afternoon in the heart of texas so you thought youd do her a favour, putting on your prettiest dress and your shiniest boots and going down to make her a fresh glass of lemonade. after making the sweetest glass you could, you began to make your way out the door and on out to greet her.

youd notice her from a mile away, the way her thick forearms glisten with sweat from holding the weight of your horse back as she walks her back to the stable. “hey abby!! you got a sec’?” you almost squeal as you ran up to her. “hey missy, what’cha got for me” she smirks knowing youve got something hidden behind your back.

your grin widens knowing shes caught you already and you wanna give in “oh nothin.. just a freshly squeezed glass of lemonade just for you!” as she reaches to grab it your manicured fingers brush against her rough and dirtied up ones. “awh baby you shouldnt’ve” her words made you almost shiver.

ok so you have a secret, youve thought abby was cute since last summer but you never really thought anything of it. you thought all her petnames and sneaky touches were just a thing girls did, but its all coming to a breaking point now.

“do ya mind if i stay with you for a bit?” you look up at her with hearts in your eyes barely being able to focus on anything but her impressive figure. “course’ya can darlin’ just dont get me in trouble with the boss” she chuckles before placing the toothpick she was chewing on prior to your arrival back in between her teeth.

shit. you forgot she worked for your father.

so how you ended up sitting on the edge of the stall door as abby nipped and sucked at your dainty jaw was a mystery to you both.

“god-cant believe i was able to hold back this long” she muttered along your skin, the thin strap of your little dress slipping down your shoulder as she felt and squeezed along your hips, pushing the hem up slightly as if almost asking a question.

you sat there like this was heaven and shes barely even touched you yet.

your hands rested on her belt buckle trying to hold yourself down “m’abby please” you whined impatiently as you yank her forward. “so cute, ‘course sugar” she planted one last kiss to your lips before nodding down at her hands that rested over her thighs.

you sighed placing your hands over hers “yeah.. want you, all a’you” and so she raised the fabric just above your hips giving herself access to whatever you needed. “really baby?” she chuckles lowly at the reveal of your panties that blankly say across the front sunday in cute bubbly letters and colours. god you wish you could just shrivel up and die- “such a fucking sweetheart huh?” she says through gritted teeth now quickly moving her thumb to graze over your clothed clit.

this drew a soft moan of relief, quickly drawing you out of your embarrassed state, she placed her hand across your lower back to keep you stable as she does so. she does this for awhile just to tease you, and also to see that wet patch on your white panties grow a little more.

“need y’fingers now” she scoffed a little at your plea in shock that youre the one bossing her around, but who is she to say no right? so of course, she pulls them down by the sides to dangle off your ankles and quickly they hit the rotting wood.

i dont think you were expecting the stretch to be this much, when abby pushed her two fingers into you, you began to realize that this was gonna be a challenge. “gosh abby- so big, too big” you mutter with urgency. “nono sweetheart you can take it i know you can” she pumps them in and out at an almost excruciating pace.

her words make your stomach flip and raise your legs to sit around her waist, the pain faded into nothing but need “fuckfuck so deep-go faster please?” you say politely as your hands flew to the nape of her neck pulling her to your mouth.

she tasted like cigarettes and lemonade.

“only cause you used your manners” you felt her smirk on your lips, as you left sloppy open mouthed kisses on her mouth she quickened her pace. the tips of her fingers slamming right where you needed it, you let out a loud moan into her throat. your breathing is becoming unstable, youre too loud now, when she suddenly pulls out.

“wha-no, please abs m’being good” you ramble onto her lips feeling empty, but through your fluttery glances all you see is her tall frame getting lower and lower to the ground. “youre gonna cum in a minute baby calm down..just wanna taste you” she spoke softly onto the wetness of your pussy, leaving sloppy kisses on her.

she began to lick stripes down your slit, the way she moved her tongue youre sure shes done this a million times, at this point you were so close from before that everything felt so good so fast. “moreee” you dragged out with a breathless moan. she took this seriously.

picking your thighs up to place around her neck, she was smothering herself in your dripping pussy, the noises coming from the barn are obscene and the thought of someone from your family hearing or seeing anything is haunting you but none of that matters now.

“ohmy-g’na cum-“ your words strung together like a broken puzzle, she took this as her cue to pull out all her tricks. she sucked on your clit with a steady pace as her finger shoves it way through the tight space. it all just became too much.

you let out a squeaky string if misplaced moans and whines as you came all over her chin, after she licked you all clean she came up for a soaked kiss. “howd i do?” she said with a crooked grin and eyes blissed out.

you could get used to this

[angelltheninth]

Saw your post about Arcane sapphics, could I request the same characters with them reacting to being readers first serious relationship?

No problem Anon, I love all of those characters, feel free to send in more requests for them.

Pairing: Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Sevika, Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, casual to serious relationship, first kiss as a couple, teasing, slightly suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I bring sustenance for the wlw part of the Arcane community!

Well, she's the same, which is surprising to you but when you think about where she was forced to grow up it starts making more sense. Both of you are in the same boat, but Vi carries herself with a bit more confidence. Much like everything else she does.

"Not a lot of stable relationships in prison, sweet stuff. I'd love it if you took my serious relationship virginity, I've been looking to lose it." She grins and leans in close to you, her hands roaming down your hips. "Now, how many of yours can I take?"

"None if you keep talking like that." You pushed her face away from yours, leading to Vi biting your hand, lightly.

"We'll see about that. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm very charming. Seriously now, how did a cutie like you stay single this whole time? If I met you before now I'd definitely want to date you." Her arms closed around your body, bringing you close and brushing her lips against your ear, making you shiver.

She was definitely buttering you up. Vi's lips pressed against the sensitive part below your ear. "I have a very specific type of girl that I go for, and that's you. Strong, brave, pure of heart, hotheaded, with tattoos, able to break me in half, you get it." Vi laughed, music to your ears but a moment later she lifted you up and smiled up at you, as if to show you that you chose the right with her.

"You do realize I was voted one of Piltover's biggest heartbreakers right? I'm not ashamed of that title, far from it. But darling, do you really think I care if you were in a relationship before?" Caitlyn could tell you were a little nervous while on your date. Now she finally knew why. If this worked out this would be the first serious relationship you've been in.

Of course you knew Caitlyn had a bit of a reputation among the ladies. She was popular for a reason, "It's... a little hard to believe that a woman like you would be seriously interested in me. Not that I don't think I'm hot, but I've been told I'm more hook up material."

Her brows furrowed in mild anger. "Who told you that? You deserve to be in a long-term relationship, anyone who missed out on a girl like you made a huge mistake." She pulled you against her chest, her hands gently massaging into your tense shoulders. "Better for me, I get you all to myself now." Her cocky grin made your body feel warm, a familiar kind of warmth.

Honestly you expected that she would be bored of you by now but Caitlyn kept asking you out again and again. Other people began to notice too, but she was never one to care about rumors.

"Does... that mean I get to call you my girlfriend now? And tell you I love you in front of other people?" Caitlyn nodded quickly, her hand cradling your cheek and pulling you into a chaste kiss, the first official kiss of your new relationship.

Being a spy doesn't leave much time for serious relationship, not that she doesn't try when she really likes someone. Someone like you. "Of course I'd love to date ya, love. What kind question is that? Yer a catch!" Maddie smiled right before she kissed you.

But when she pulled back and saw you biting your lip nervously she feared she might have rushed in or misunderstood things. Her hands found yours, her thumbs rubbing the back of your hands, leading you to the bed. "I've... never been in a relationship before, so I don't really know how to do it. Believe it or not I've been winging it this whole time."

"I had a feeling. No offense to ya but it's real easy ta tell ya were nervous the whole date. Glad to know it wasn't cause of me." She smiled to herself, also starting to get shy, she wasn't used to being so vulnerable. "I'm nervous too, don't know if ya could tell. Every time ya kiss me I get the shivers. Good kind! I think it's been... about a year or so since I've been serious 'bout anyone."

"And you want to be serious with me?" You asked, hopeful. Since she wasn't gonna stay here forever it was a lot to ask for of her. "I don't want to pressure you into it though."

"Gods no! I love being with ya! Yer so cute I can hardly hold myself back when I'm around ya. My boss doesn't like that but hey, the heart wants what it wants. For as long as I'm here I'd love to be with ya." There was really no telling how long that will be. Maddie knew that too, all too well, but she wanted to make good memories with you, for as long as she was able to she wanted to be with you, kiss you every chance she got.

Sevika blinked, slowly. "And? What is that important, sweetheart? Do you have some crazy ex hook-up or something? Point me in her direction, let's go." She was already gearing up for a fight. One that she would win.

"No! You meathead, not everything is a brawl! Listen to me!" You pulled her towards you and into the bedroom, closing the door behind the two of you. "I'm trying to open up about my relationship inexperience."

"Oh. Okay." Again, she didn't really have that much of a reaction. Instead of that she sat down and pulled you into her lap, "Does that make you feel bad or something? Cause I don't care about that stuff all that much, you know. I just want you all to myself, and if you're looking for more experience I am very happy to help out." Her hand smacked your ass, affectionately, grinning when your hips moved against hers in response.

It made you feel better, knowing that Sevika wasn't placing any pressure on you. Not even when you started your relationship. After the first night you realized she was assertive but not pushy, letting you make first moves and only then escalating to the point where clothes came off.

"You're so cute when you're nervous. Like a little kitten backed into a corner. But that also makes me want to protect you. If I'm your first real relationship then I'll make damn sure I'll be the last." When Sevika promised things to you she always delivered on them. It was basically a marriage proposal. Maybe she was moving a bit fast.

"I already knew that, pet. If you planned on hiding it from me, first you shouldn't hide anything from me, and second, you were really bad at it." Ambessa laughed out loud and patted you on the shoulder, her large hand eclipsing it. "Does that bother you?"

"Not exactly. I'm worried that it bothers you." Her hand grabbed your chin suddenly and forced you to make eye contact with her. "Uhm... yes?"

"Do not assume things about me. I rather like knowing that I'll show you the ropes, I'll get to take so many of your firsts won't I?" She moved your head to the side, her full lips pressing against your neck, her other hand against your lower back and her thick, muscular thigh between your legs. "Even if it's not forever I will make sure you remember every bit of it."

You shuddered against her hold, your heart drumming against your chest, blood rushing south. No matter what she did there was no way you would ever forget about her, she had to be aware of that already. Especially as far as your firsts go.

As soon as her hands started pulling at your clothes you yelped in alarm. "I-Is my body all you want to date me for?!" She didn't answer. She stared at you before she pulled her own shirt off. "Ambessa! Really?!" But what better way to celebrate a new relationship.

[lostintransist]

Secrets are for Grownups | Part 7

Part 1 can be found here. AO3

The knock at the door tensed all your muscles. Your fingers are interlaced and buried between your thighs to keep them from shaking.

The bus had left with your boys twenty minutes ago.

John had sat you in the middle seat below the wall of pictures. Larsen’s smiling face gave you comfort, knowing he would have your back had he lived. John sat to your right and Nyla had claimed the space to your left, flanking you, for everyone’s safety. Nyla patted a hand at your elbow before rising from the couch.

When she opens the door Johnny and Simon greet her with a kiss on the cheek and a nod respectfully to you. John stood and offered them a hug, the love they shared fierce even in the short gesture. They sit where directed. Johnny and Simon are thigh to thigh. Simon’s arm stretches along the breadth of Johnny’s shoulders, thumb stroking the side of his neck. Johnny reciprocated by settling a hand on Simon’s thigh. The prominent black band on his hand draws your gaze.

Only the hum of your really old refrigerator breaks the silence as they stare at you and you at them.

John looks from you to his men and back. With a sigh, he edges to the front of the couch and begins as if he were leading a mission briefing.

“The goal here is to come to an understanding regarding the boys. I have spoken with you all at length about this. The boys know about their fathers,” he nodded to the men before turning his gaze, “and you are willing to allow Simon and John time with them correct?”

The question is directed to you. Nodding, you swallow hard. He turned back to the men on the other couch.

“You would like to meet and develop a relationship with the boys, is that also correct?”

Johnny must tighten his hand on Simon’s thigh because Simon settles his free hand on top of his husband’s.

“We would like an opportunity to meet our boys,” Simon replied evenly.

Rage prickled at the back of your neck. Jace and Mac were not their boys, they were yours. Yours and Larsen’s. Squeezing your fingers tighter and staring at your lap allowed you a moment to breathe past the bile rising up your throat.

“What are you expecting this to look like?” John asks.

Unsure if he who he questioned you look up. Finding his eyes on the men sitting on the opposite couch you turn to look at them as well.

“We aren’t sure yet,” Johnny starts, gaze connecting with yours. “We would like to become a stable and consistent part of their lives. They are our sons.”

“Will you tell us about them?” Simon glances at you before looking down at his hand on Johnny’s. His band is the same dark metal as Johnny’s.

Your breath shudders in and out as everyone looks at you. John sinks back into the couch, eyes watchful. You look to him for something, guidance maybe. At his nod, you turn back to the men and start from the beginning. Nyla settles a hand on your back, soothing in the way it moves back and forth.

“Jace Riley was born first at a healthy seven pounds two ounces. Noah MacTavish followed within five minutes and came in at a decent six pounds five ounces. My late husband, Larsen, helped me pick their first names since I knew what their middle names would be when some genetic testing confirmed different fathers. " You rush on, expecting judgment. Everyone had an opinion on pregnancy. “My midwives were concerned about the vastly different gestational ages and referred me to a specialist. They also sent off the genetics to test for lots of things including for general origin of ancestry. When the information arrived it confirmed that the older baby, Jace, had mostly English DNA, and the smaller one, Noah, had English and Scottish DNA. I delayed submitting their birth certificates for as long as I could to confirm that their personalities and features lined up with what I expected.”

Johnny is fighting back tears, face turned and mouth scrunching and relaxing. Simon coughs into his hand before squeezing Johnny.

Running your tongue across the back of your teeth you allow them a moment.

“If it works for you I would like to invite you over sometime this week to meet them. It will be a low-pressure situation for them and for us. I won’t be making them call you anything but your names until they decide what to call you.” You pull your hands free of your thighs, letting the blood flow back into them. “They like legos if you want to bring a small set to build with them. "

Both men nod in agreement, you assume to both the scheduling and the toys. When they have collected themselves Johnny inches forward on the couch, elbows on his knees.

“Johnny,” Simon growls, as if warning him.

“No Simon. We deserve answers and I don’t want to ask when the boys are here,” he snapped at his husband—pinning you with his ice-fire blue eyes. “Why didn’t tell us when you found out? You still had John’s number. We deserved to be involved, to have a choice.”

“You made your choice, both of you. Anything that happened after you found exaltation is none of your business.” You can’t help but snarl at them, fingernails biting into your palm as you curl and uncurl your fingers.

Unable to remain seated you stand and take to pacing the space between the wall and the window.

John spoke up now.

“Can any of you tell me how this happened? How did I miss all of this going down?”

Despite the years and pain between, you, Simon, and Johnny share a moment of understanding as you all glance at one another.

You reply, feet slowing your frantic pacing.

“It started after your ex-wife asked for a divorce. The night Gaz invited everyone to the bar and you elected to stay back and drink alone in your office.”

John pinked and readjusted in his seat as Nyla raised a brow at him.

“It’s alright dear, we all need a nip from time to time,” she offers him a kind smile.

“Johnny had flirted since I arrived but it really changed that night,” you twist your fingers as you pace.

“She slept with both of us until she had a ‘family emergency’ and was never heard from again,” Johnny glances up at your family photos as he drops his snide comment.

The glare you level on him would melt glass.

“It was a family emergency. I needed my family, emergently. I was in over my head and I was scared.”

“You knew what you were doing, you were grown.”

Simon’s hard words caught you in the neck as you paced. His folly found him in saying it when you were close enough to reach him. Not even God and all the angels would have been able to still your hand. It connected with a resounding crack.

“How old was I?” You shout at him even as John leaps from his seat and hauls you away before Simon can recover enough to return fire.

“You’re only a year younger than me!” Johnny is pushing to his feet now.

A quiet but firm ‘John’ from his mother pauses his standing. Sinking back into the cushion he glares at you.

John has you around the ribs, not wincing as your nails bite into his arm.

“I am five years younger than you. Do you know how old that made me when you both cornered me and dragged me into bed? Twenty-four! My brain hadn’t even finished developing yet.”

You want to, need to, move. John holds you tighter.

“We didn’t drag you to bed, we would never force someone,” Johnny’s glare hardened.

The eye twitch is uncontrollable.

“What about a situation where I was alone in a foreign country with no support system except a boss who was too busy dealing with the single worst divorce I’ve ever seen to actually check in on me? Hmm? He barely ate and certainly didn’t notice two men both older and in positions of power over me pushing their interest. What part of me had any impression other than force John MacTavish? You tell me that! How could I say no? Did you ever once make it clear to me that I had a choice?”

Simon and Johnny both open their mouths to defend themselves. Before they can utter a word you continue, vitriol flying off your tongue like spittle.

“No! You know what you did? You poured your hatred for yourselves down my throat. Choked me with it because you couldn’t admit that you were in love with the other. Do you know what I did in return? I stole the best thing you could ever create and fled the fucking country.” John tightened his grip on you when he felt you shift. “You know nothing of what I suffered under or because of you. You don’t get to sit on my couch and tell me you did nothing wrong. I would have let it go on until my visa ended but no. Both of you had to fuck up and call out for the other while balls deep inside of me. That’s when I ran.”

Wrenching yourself from John’s arms you stalked into the kitchen. Bracing your elbows on the counter you focus on breathing. Them being in your house dredged up a lot of emotions and thoughts you had assumed were gone. If only you could soothe them as easily as you do the boys.

Steps reached your ears.

“John, I just need a second okay?” Your voice cracks on the last word.

“Ah me dearie, I left the boys to chat.”

Whirling you find Nyla looking you over with compassionate eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t have slept with them both at the same time, but I didn’t feel like I had any way to say no,” you crush your arms to your chest, the pain helping keep you present. “I thought I could enjoy the time until I had to go home.”

“I am no here to judge you. My own dear husband had to fight off three other suitors I was sleeping with before I would agree to marry him,” she gave you a wink as you processed that bit of information.

Four men? Mama MacTavish was sleeping with four men at once? Damn. Guess you know where Johnny got his charisma from.

Her face took on a serious cast.

“They will never understand.”

Your eyebrows pulling together is all the response you can manage. Nyla knows what it means though. The pain ratcheting through you is the only thing keeping you from breaking down.

“The boys.” She runs her hands down her front as if smoothing an apron she left in Scotland. “Simon might understand a bit better once he thinks about it, but Johnny won’t. They have never had to balance the scales of safety of their bodies or safety of their souls anywhere that didn’t involve gunfire.”

A distant look comes over her face as Nyla’s memories play across her eyes. A deep breath and the closing of her eyes pull her back to the present.

“We know the constant battle we face as women. Embedded in our bones by our mothers, the need to comply, to capitulate.” She focuses on you now, eyes boring into yours. “I am proud of you for running, child.”

The tears slid down your cheeks without your permission. When you are gathered up in her arms you wonder if the decision to call her might have been a good one for you, and not just the boys, after all.

Secrets Masterlist | Masterlist

@love-kha1 @sweetlike-sugarplum @vmaxis @splaterparty0-0 @momowhoo @talia-the-gemini @redkarmakai @aethelwyneleigh27 @asexualbuthorny @sleep101 @callsignbumblebee @lucienofthelakes @sirbonesly

[cosmicaura7]

AITA SERIES

Pairings : pedro pascal characters x reader

Genre : f/m, sexual implications, controversial topics, taboo topics, use of R to refer to reader, 

Synopsis : So Reddit, Am I the Asshole…?

Clint Flood (Freaky Tales)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for being in love with my boyfriend’s dad?

I know how this sounds. I’m not proud of it. But I also can’t stop thinking about it, so here I am.

I (26F) have been dating J (28M) for almost a year now. He’s a good guy, steady, kind and a little boring but safe. The kind of guy you’re supposed to want to marry. The kind your mom would approve of.

Then there’s his dad. C (mid-50s). A little rough around the edges. Quiet, tall and intense. He’s got these piercing eyes that feel like they can see right through you and this whole ex-military and no-bullshit vibe that makes the air change when he walks into a room.

The first time I met him, I already felt something. But I ignored it, pushed it down. But it’s gotten worse. Every time I visit their family cabin, every time we sit across from each other at dinner, I feel his gaze linger just a little too long. I catch him watching me when he thinks I won’t notice. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look right back. It’s not just lust, either. He actually sees me, listens to me in a way his son never really does. He remembers the small things I say, and even notices when I change my hair. Once, when I was quietly crying in the hallway during a family weekend (long story), he was the one who came out and handed me a glass of water without a word.

I feel so drawn to him. And I know how messed up that is, I’m dating his son after all. There’s no world where this ends well. I haven’t cheated. I haven’t done anything beyond maybe letting my imagination wander and entertaining a few dreams I’ll never admit out loud. But lately, when I’m with J, I just feel off. Like I’m pretending. Like I’m waiting for someone else to walk into the room. Someone who makes my skin burn with just a glance.

So Reddit… AITA for staying in a relationship when my heart might be somewhere else? Am I horrible for wanting a man I can’t have? Or is this just a passing obsession I need to bury deeper?

Dave York (The Equalizer 2)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not acting on feelings for my kids’ babysitter even though she clearly wants me to?

Okay Reddit, I know how this sounds, but hear me out before you jump to “creep” in the comments.

I (41M) am a divorced dad of two daughters, A (10) and M (7). They’re my world. Been raising them mostly solo for the past three years since the split and it hasn’t been easy. Between work, school pickups and dance recitals, I needed help. Enter her (let’s call her R, 26F), the babysitter I hired after a friend’s recommendation.

She’s absolutely incredible. Responsible, patient, smart, funny and grounded. Everything you’d want in a woman. My girls adore her. They draw her pictures, ask for her when they’re sick, even slip up and call her “Mom” sometimes. I figured that would make things easier, someone stable in their lives.

What I didn’t expect was me being the unstable one. Because the problem is, she’s also gorgeous. Like, unfairly so. And lately, I can’t tell if I’m imagining things or if she’s trying to test me. The casual touches, the way she lingers in the kitchen when I come home, the soft voice when she tells me I look tired and should get more sleep, the ridiculously tight tank tops, the lip gloss and the way she looks at me when she doesn’t think I notice.

Part of me, a big part, wants to give in. I’m a man, I’m not oblivious to it. But the other part? The one that tucks my daughters in at night? That part is scared shitless. What if I misread everything? What if this ruins the bond she has with my girls? What if they lose someone they love because their dad couldn’t keep it in his pants?

She’s never said anything outright, never crossed a clear line. But I can feel the tension and I can feel myself getting closer to breaking every day. I want her so badly but I also want what’s best for my kids. I just don’t know if those two things can exist at the same time.

So Reddit… AITA for keeping her at arm’s length when all I want to do is pull her closer?

Dieter Bravo (The Bubble)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for falling in love with my fake PR girlfriend and not knowing if she actually likes me or is just a better actor than I am?

Okay. Buckle up, internet strangers because I’m spiraling.

I (early 40s M, actor, you’ve probably seen me snort a line or die dramatically in something) was recently paired up with another actor (let’s call her R, 30s F, wildly talented, unfairly hot and intimidatingly cool) to star in this big dramatic slow-burn romance film. Think tortured artists, rainy kisses and completely Oscar bait.

To sell it? The studios and our agents cooked up this genius idea, let’s fake date. Hold hands at events, post blurry selfies on Instagram, give flirty interviews. You know, classic “no, we’re just good friends… wink” PR bait. At first, I laughed. I’ve done this crap before. All the camera flashes, fake kisses, casually mentioning her in interviews, rinse and repeat.

Except it stopped feeling fake. I stopped feeling fake. Somewhere between the shared hotel rooms, the quiet after-parties, the little glances during press junkets, I fell for her. Fully, horrifically and irrevocably. The kind of fall that makes your chest hurt and your ego scream. The worst part? I have no clue if she feels the same. She’s good, man. Oscar-nominee good. She leans into my arm like she means it. Laughs at my dumb jokes like they’re brilliant. Once she looked at me after a long day of shooting and said, “Sometimes I forget this isn’t real.” and I swear to god my soul left my body.

But then the next morning she’ll be cold again. Professional and distant. Like I dreamed the whole thing. Like it’s all just lines from a script I don’t have a copy of. Now I’m sitting here, fully in love with the woman I’m supposed to be pretending to love and I don’t know if I should say anything. What if I ruin everything? What if she is just pretending? What if I’m just another role she nails while I’m over here method acting heartbreak?

So Reddit… AITA for catching real feelings during a fake relationship? Or just an idiot with a crush and no chill?

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not following through with a hit because I fell in love with the target?

Yeah. That title’s a mess. So’s the situation.

I (40M) work in a niche line of work. Let’s just say I solve problems that require extreme discretion and no paper trail. You hire me and the problem disappears. Clean and quiet within a blink of an eye.

A few months ago, I got a high-paying job from a rich smug prick who wanted his ex-wife taken care of. No explanation, just names, photos and a price I couldn’t ignore. I’ve done worse for less so I took it. Her name is R (36F). First time I saw her, she was sitting outside a little bookstore she owns, sipping coffee, talking to some neighborhood kid like she wasn’t marked for death. I kept my distance. Observed and waited for the right time.

Only it never came.

The more I watched, the harder it became to see her as a target. She volunteers at shelters. Leaves snacks out for delivery drivers. She sings in her car when she thinks no one’s watching. She’s light and warm. The kind of woman you protect, not eliminate.

I told myself I was just gathering intel but days turned to weeks. I started memorizing her routines. I learned the way she laughs when she texts her sister, the exact brand of tea she drinks, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s nervous. Somewhere along the way, the job stopped being a job. I never made contact, never said a word. But I started feeling and now I’m in too deep. I backed out of the job quietly. Told the client it was unworkable, returned the deposit. He wasn’t happy but I’d rather deal with him than live with the thought of hurting her.

Problem is, I still want her. And I’ve imagined going up to her. Introducing myself as just a guy who walked into her in a random shop. Letting her fall for me without knowing who I really am. But that feels like a lie. I’ve already lied by omission.

So Reddit… AITA for falling for her while stalking her? For not telling her the truth even though every part of me wants to protect her now? Or would telling her everything be the most selfish thing I could do?

Ezra (The Prospect)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for secretly dating my best friend’s brother even though she explicitly told me not to?

So I (F, 27) have been best friends with this girl since we were 7. We grew up together, sleepovers, secrets, teenage rebellion, the whole deal. She’s like a sister to me and we’ve been through everything.

Which means I also grew up around E (M, 34), her older brother. E was the charming, sarcastic, effortlessly cool older brother who’d tease us when we were kids, drive us around when we were teens, and smirk at me in that infuriating way that made me blush harder than I’d like to admit. We always had this… thing. Flirty comments, lingering looks, stupid jokes that only made sense to us. But I never acted on it. My best friend made it very clear and very early on that E was off limits. “It’d be weird.” She said, “Gross. I don’t want my bestie being near my brother like that

Fast forward to last year. I ran into E at a party she dragged me to and it was different. The flirting was heavier. The air was tense. He looked at me like he really saw me. One thing led to another, and… yeah. We started secretly dating. At first, it was light, late-night texting, stolen moments, private dinners. But it grew deeper. He’s thoughtful, steady, makes me laugh and makes me feel safe. He listens. We talk about everything. I think I’ve loved him longer than I’ve even known what love was.

We’ve been together for 5 months now. My best friend doesn’t know. I’ve lied to her face more times than I can count and I hate it. Every time E and I sneak around, a part of me dies a little because I know how betrayed she’ll feel if (when) she finds out.

But here’s the thing, it’s not some casual fling. We’re in love. I want to tell her. We both do. We just don’t know how without blowing up twenty years of friendship. And I can’t stop asking myself, do I owe her that level of loyalty? Or am I allowed to be happy even if it’s messy?

So Reddit… AITA for going behind my best friend’s back and dating her brother, the one person she begged me not to fall for?

Francisco Morales (Triple Frontier)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to ask out a woman who used to sleep with my best friend (even though I’ve liked her for years)?

Yeah, I know how this sounds. Buckle up.

I (38M) have this friend, let’s call him Pope, who I’ve known forever. We’ve been through the shit together. The kind of friendship where you’d kill for the guy, no questions asked.

A few years ago, he was hooking up with this woman (let’s call her R, 30F). Nothing serious. Just casual, no-strings. He made that clear to all of us. And she seemed fine with it. They’d hook up after drinks or late nights but it fizzled out naturally. No drama. No breakup. Just life moving on.

Thing is that I liked her, always liked her. Since day one. She’s smart, hilarious, can handle a room full of testosterone like it’s nothing and has this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re the only guy in the world. I kept my distance out of respect. You don’t move in on your best friend’s girl even if she was never really his girl. But now, years later, I still haven’t stopped thinking about her. We still talk and hang out sometimes. There’s a spark there, I swear. But I haven’t said a damn thing. Partly because I’m a coward, partly because I don’t want to blow up my friendship with Pope.

I asked him once, hypothetically, how he’d feel if someone dated a girl he’d just “hooked up with.” He shrugged and said, “If it was just a hook-up, I wouldn’t give a shit.” But I don’t know if he actually meant it. And I don’t know if it’s different when it’s one of us, tight-knit, military bond and all.

So Reddit… AITA if I ask her out? Am I a bad friend for wanting a chance with the woman he technically had first, even if it was casual and years ago? Or should I just shut my mouth and keep pretending I don’t care?

Harry Castillo (The Materialists)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to financially support my assistant in a way that might make me her sugar daddy?

Throwaway because, well, obviously.

I (42M) run several successful business firms and have a phenomenal assistant (26F). Let’s call her R. She’s sharp, competent, endlessly patient with my disorganization and frankly the reason this whole damn office runs at all.

Here’s the thing, I’ve noticed she’s been struggling lately. She’s skipping meals, avoiding turning on the office heat even when she’s freezing. I caught her patching a hole in her shoe with tape. She’s proud and never complains, but it’s obvious she’s barely staying afloat. I pay her more than what she deserves for her position but I know life’s expensive, especially in Manhattan. I also know she’s got student loans and takes care of her family. And I hate seeing her like this, it’s been eating at me.

So here’s where I might be the asshole, I’ve been toying with the idea of offering her help. Not a raise (I already gave her one recently). Not a loan (she’d never accept). More like a “no strings attached” arrangement where I’d take care of her rent, groceries or whatever she needs, if she lets me. Yes, I know how that sounds. I’m not trying to be a creep. I’m not expecting anything in return, no paying back, no sexual favors. But there’s no way to make this offer without it sounding like I want to be her sugar daddy.

Truth is… I wouldn’t hate that idea if she was open to something more. She’s beautiful and smart. The kind of woman I’d fall for in another life. But that’s not what this is about. I just want to take care of her and make sure she’s okay. If there’s anything more deserving in living the lavish life, it’s definitely her. 

So Reddit… AITA for even thinking about offering something like that? And if not, how the hell do I go about it without sounding like an old pervert?

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels (Kingsman)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for being cold to a woman at work because she reminds me of my dead wife?

I (late 40s, M) work in a high-risk field, let’s just call it federal-level security with a cowboy hat on top. I’m used to staying sharp and staying detached. I’ve had to be, ever since I lost my wife ten years ago. She was my everything. Sweet, sharp-tongued and tough as nails under lace. When she died… I buried my heart with her.

Then came her.

Let’s call her R (mid-30s, F). She’s the new secretary at our organization. Handles the logistics, the schedules, the background noise of our chaos. Always has a coffee in hand, always humming something, always looking at the world like it still deserves to be forgiven. The first time I saw her, I froze. She didn’t look exactly like my wife, not quite, but she moved like her, laughed like her and smiled with that same little tilt that used to undo me in an instant. And ever since then, I’ve treated her like she’s done something wrong just by walking into the damn room.

I’m short and dismissive with her, sometimes even rude. I pretend not to hear her when she says good morning. Once or twice, I’ve even corrected her harshly in front of others for mistakes she didn’t make. I know I’m being cruel. She hasn’t done a damn thing to deserve it. But every time she opens her mouth, I hear a ghost. Thing is, she’s never pushed back. She just looks at me with this confused kind of hurt, like she doesn’t understand what she did wrong and the truth is, she didn’t, never did. I did. I’m the one turning grief into anger. I’m the one who never dealt with losing the woman I loved and now I’m taking it out on someone who’s just being kind.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about apologizing, about telling her the truth. But I’m afraid if I let her in, I’ll start feeling again. And I don’t know if I’ve got the strength to lose someone twice.

So Reddit… AITA for being a jackass to someone just because she reminds me of someone I lost? Or is this just the only way I know how to cope?

Javi Guttierez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for kissing my assistant and confessing my feelings, only for her to completely ignore it the next day?

This might be a mess so bear with me.

I (M, 33) am a scriptwriter and producer. I’ve worked my way up in this business and I take it seriously. One of the smartest things I ever did was hire her, my assistant (F, 28). Let’s call her R. She’s incredible. Organized, sharp, cool under pressure, has this dry humor that makes me laugh at the worst times and somehow remembers every detail about everyone I ever meet. She makes me better. She makes the job look easy.

And I’ve been in love with her for almost two years.

I know it’s unprofessional. I kept it quiet, never crossed a line, not even a toe near one. Because she deserves respect and I’d rather suffer in silence than make her uncomfortable or jeopardize her career.

But it’s been getting harder lately, especially at industry parties. She turns heads when she walks into a room. Every actor, every big name, they all want a piece of her. And I just stand there, pretending I don’t care. Pretending I’m not dying inside when they make her laugh, when they ask for her number, when she says, “I’m working” and looks away.

Then came this gala. One too many champagne flutes. One too many guys trying to corner her. She looked uncomfortable, kept glancing at me across the room. And something in me snapped. I pulled her away from the crowd, took her to the balcony, and without thinking, I kissed her. Then I told her everything. That I’ve liked her since week one. That I think about her all the time. That it kills me to watch her with anyone else.

And she just ran. Didn’t say a word. Just turned and walked away.

Next morning? It was like it never happened. She showed up, clipboard in hand, rattling off schedules, looking me dead in the eye like she hadn’t fled from my lips ten hours prior. I’ve tried talking to her. I’ve begged for just five minutes of her time. She dodges me, changes subjects, acts like everything is normal, and it’s driving me insane. I feel like I crossed a boundary. But also, I was honest. I never forced anything. I just said how I felt.

So Reddit… AITA for kissing my assistant and confessing my feelings after years of silence, even if now she won’t speak to me?

Javier Peña (Narcos)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for constantly rejecting my coworker’s advances even though I’m actually in love with him?

This is going to sound like I’m the world’s biggest idiot, but here goes.

I (29F) work for the government. It's a hard, high-stress job and there’s not a lot of room for vulnerability or, y’know, romance. Which sucks because I’ve been half in love with my colleague, let’s call him J, since the day I met him.

He’s everything you’d want in a man. Confident, charming and dangerous in that bad boy way. He walks into a room and women stare. He talks and people listen. He flirts like it’s breathing. And yeah, he’s got a reputation. Everyone knows he’s been around, probably the most sexually experienced man I’ve ever met.

Me? I’ve never even had sex. Not religious, not traumatized, it just never happened for me. I’ve always been shy and easily intimidated. I was the "shy bunny" in the academy, not the one guys chased after. And when J started flirting with me, like really flirting, I froze.

It’s not like I’m not interested, I am. But every time he makes a move, I panic, I dodge, I pretend that I’m too busy or brush him off with a joke. Because the thought of actually being with him, of taking off my clothes in front of a man like that, makes me want to crawl into a hole. I’m scared I’ll disappoint him. That I’ll be awkward or inexperienced or just not enough. And then I’ll ruin the one good relationship I have on this damn job. He still flirts, still checks in. But I can feel the distance growing. I think he’s starting to think I’m not into him. Or worse, that I’m playing games. I’m not. I just don’t know how to tell him why I keep backing off.

So Reddit… AITA for rejecting him over and over while secretly being in love with him? Should I be honest and risk everything? Or just keep my mouth shut and let him move on to someone who won’t choke up the second he touches her?

Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for having feelings for my dad’s best friend, who basically helped raise me?

Okay, so this is going to sound real bad on paper, but hear me out.

I (26F) have known this man, J, since I was a kid. He’s my dad’s best friend, a grumpy rugged Texan who’s been around for every milestone in my life. School plays, birthdays, college move-in day, you name it, J was always there, usually fixing something or standing off to the side with a cup of coffee and his permanent scowl.

Here’s the thing, somewhere in the last year or two, I started not seeing J as just “Dad’s friend.” Like, I’ll walk into the kitchen in my pajamas and he’s fixing the sink with his sleeves rolled up, arms flexing and suddenly I’m thinking things I should probably be arrested for. It’s not just physical. He listens to me, respects me and treats me like a grown woman, not a little girl.

A few nights ago, he stayed over after helping Dad rebuild the deck. I poured him a whiskey after Dad went to bed and we talked for hours. At one point, he brushed my hand and didn’t pull away right away. It was small but it felt like something shifted. Here’s the kicker, I want something to happen. I want him but I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet because 1.) he’s my dad’s best friend, 2.) he’s literally 20+ years older than me, and 3.) I know if my dad ever found out, it’d destroy their friendship.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to sleep with the man who basically helped raise me? I haven’t acted on it yet, but I want to desperately. Am I a terrible person for thinking so?

Marcus Acacius (Gladiator II)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for secretly dating my professor after we hooked up, even though I was the one who pursued him first?

Throwaway for obvious reasons. This is messy and I know it.

So I (22F) am a senior in college, finishing my degree in classical studies. For the past year, I’ve been taking a Roman history seminar taught by Professor M (M, late 30s?). He’s brilliant, sharp-tongued, a little intimidating and, honestly, incredibly attractive in that cold, untouchable kind of way. I’ve had a crush on him since day one.

He’s very professional, like textbook boundary-keeper. Never gave me special treatment, never even hinted at anything, even though I was top of his class and probably tried way too hard to impress him. I figured it would stay one-sided forever. Until a few weeks ago, I went to a bar near campus with friends. And who do I run into? Him. Out of the suit, out of the lecture hall, totally relaxed. He buys me a drink. We talk, like, really talk. He’s charming, funny and flirty. I was shocked. One thing led to another and I ended up at his apartment. We slept together. It was intense, passionate and everything I’d secretly fantasize about.

We talked the next morning. He made it very clear that he hadn’t planned it, that it was wrong in theory, but neither of us wanted to stop. So we kept seeing each otherecretly. Always professional on campus. No PDA. No weird behavior in class. It’s all strictly off the clock.

And honestly? I’m happy. I care about him. I think he cares about me too. But lately, some classmates have started joking that he favors me, not knowing anything is happening, and it’s making me feel paranoid. I’m terrified of ruining his reputation, of jeopardizing his career or mine. 

So Reddit… AITA for crossing that line with him? Or are we just two adults trying to be careful about something real in a setting that doesn’t make room for it?

Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for feeling blindsided that my neighbor, who babysits my daughter and I might be falling for, has a kid I didn’t know about?

Hey Reddit, this might sound like a midlife crisis-in-the-making but I really need some outside perspective.

I (M, 39) am a single dad. My daughter, also M (F, 8), is the best part of my life. I work a demanding job, and for the past year or so, my neighbor (F, 35), let’s call her R, has been babysitting M when I’m away. She’s kind, dependable and just gets my daughter in a way that instantly puts me at ease.

More than that, she gets me. We’ve grown close. Coffee on porches. Passing each other in the hall. Sometimes we talk until midnight over paper takeout boxes and M’s school projects. I always chalked it up to neighborly chemistry, nothing more. But lately, I’ve caught myself looking at her differently, wondering if maybe, just maybe, she might feel the same. My daughter doesn’t help. Every other night it’s, “Daddy, she has a crush on you.” Or “I think she’d be a great mom someday, like, to me.” Kids, right?

I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I figured if she felt something, she’d say something or maybe I’d grow the courage to bring it up myself. But then, this weekend, a car pulls up in her driveway. I look out the window and I see a man step out, not threatening, just there. And then a little boy hops out of the back seat and runs into R’s arms.

My heart dropped. Turns out she has a kid, a son. From a previous marriage, she’s divorced. None of this was ever mentioned in all our conversations and now I feel off? Confused. A little betrayed? I know that sounds unfair, she’s not obligated to tell me her life story. But after all these quiet, close nights and tender moments and hearing from my daughter that she might have feelings for me, why didn’t she ever tell me about her son? I haven’t said anything. I don’t want to make her feel guilty. She still babysits my daughter. But I can’t stop replaying it all. Did she keep it from me on purpose? Was I just a fool for thinking we had something? Or am I just overwhelmed because I wanted her to be part of our little family and didn’t realize she already had one of her own?

So Reddit… AITA for feeling a little heartbroken and distant after finding out my neighbor has a son she never told me about?

Marcus Pike (The Mentalist)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not telling my best friend that I’m secretly dating the man she just asked me to help her get with?

I (F, 30s) have been dating a coworker of mine, let’s call him M (late 30s, thoughtful, charming, ridiculously handsome) for over three years. We met working in the same department (federal law enforcement, so discretion is basically part of the uniform), and from the start, we kept it quiet. No PDA at work, no romantic texts on company phones, nothing that could put us under scrutiny. It was just easier that way, completely private and ours.

Fast-forward to now, we’ve built a whole life together in the shadows. We take trips, spend weekends at each other’s apartments, and talk about buying a house someday. The real deal.

Here’s the problem, my best friend, who also works in our agency, pulled me aside a few days ago and told me she has a huge crush on M. She said she’s had a thing for him for months but didn’t know how to approach it. And then she asked if I could help set her up with him, talk her up, ease her in, “put in a good word.” She has no idea I’m with him. We’ve never told anyone. And the worst part? She was genuinely excited when she told me, like school girl giddy level. She said, “I really think he could be the one.”

Now I feel sick. I didn’t know what to say. I kind of froze, gave a weird laugh and changed the subject. But now she keeps asking about it. And I feel like I’m betraying both of them, M, by not protecting our relationship and her, by hiding something huge.

M says we can go public. That he’s fine with it if I am but then what? I tell her I’ve been with the guy she’s secretly pining over for years and just didn’t say anything? Won’t she feel humiliated? Betrayed? I’m terrified it’ll destroy our friendship.

So Reddit… AITA for not telling my best friend I’m already with the guy she wants? And if not, what the hell do I do now?

Max Philips (Bloodsucking Bastards)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to quit because my boss won’t turn me into a vampire even though I’m literally the top performer?

I (24F) started an internship at a mid-size sales company a few months ago. I was just trying to get some experience and a paycheck. I didn’t expect, you know, vampires to be a part of that experience.

The office rumor (that everyone knows is true) is that M (mid-30s? ageless? hot in a soul-sucking Wall Street vampire sort of way) is the boss who handpicks the best employees to “promote” aka turn them into vampires. It’s a reward. Eternal life, endless energy, better insurance and apparently a coffee tolerance that doesn’t make your hands shake. Thing is, I’ve crushed the sales board for three months straight. Like, no competition. The next closest guy is 42 calls behind and cries during lunch. I stayed up late. I meet quotas no one else touches. My neck is basically exposed at this point, figuratively and literally.

And yet nothing. No shadowy invite. No creepy-but-glamorous “let’s talk in my office with the lights off.” M just gives me these weird once-overs in the elevator and says things like, “Good work, kid,” like I’m still in high school. Meanwhile, last month’s top performer (D, who sells like he’s reading from a cereal box) got “promoted” after one good week.

I tried asking. M just smiled, that smug fanged GQ smile and said, “It’s not just about the numbers.” Which… okay? What is it about then? Charm? Blood type? Being less annoying during meetings? Now I’m spiraling. Like am I not vampire material? Am I too ambitious? Not attractive enough? Too human? Every day I walk past the break room and see the cool undead crowd sipping their crimson smoothies and laughing at inside jokes about graveyards and their never ending orgies, and I feel like the nerd no one wants at the slumber party.

I’m starting to hate him. Not just because he won’t bite me but because I wanted it. I earned it. And now I’m stuck here, mortal, exhausted and drinking stale coffee while wondering if I’m not enough.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to quit my job because my boss won’t make me a vampire? Or am I just taking professional rejection way too personally?

Maxwell Lord (Wonder Woman 1984)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to ask out my son’s teacher even though I’m afraid of messing up his life again?

So, I (M, early 40s) am a single dad to the best kid on the planet, A (9M). Sweet, brilliant and too good for me honestly. His mom and I split a few years ago and I’ve been doing the whole daddy CEO redemption arc thing ever since. Trying to be a good man. Trying to keep the chaos in check. Trying not to completely screw this kid up.

Enter her. My son’s teacher. Let’s call her R (30s F). She’s sunshine in human form. Whip-smart, patient and warm. She talks to A like he’s the most important person in the room, and hell, she talks to me like I’m not just a walking Wall Street headline. I’ve been smitten since parent-teacher night. Every time I drop A off or pick him up, I try to be charming, likeable, funny, confident. You know, my usual moves.

And I fail miserably. Every. Single. Time.

She doesn’t laugh at my stupid money jokes, she gives me this look when I bring her overpriced coffee like she knows I googled “gifts teachers love.” Once, I tried to compliment her and said, “You’re doing really admirable work wrangling a room full of small people.” I sounded like I was describing a livestock auction. Still, she smiles. She’s kind and I think, maybe, she likes me back? Or at least doesn’t hate me. Which, for me, is progress.

Here’s the problem, I’ve been thinking about asking her out. Just coffee, something simple. But I keep stopping myself because of A. He adores her. I mean, glows when he talks about her. I don’t want to confuse him. I don’t want him to feel weird if she becomes something more to me than “Ms. R.”

But lately, he’s been drawing pictures of the three of us. Me, him and her. He says stuff like, “Ms. R would make a good mom.” Or, “Ms. R always makes me feel safe.” And I can’t help but wonder, is he already hoping for something more?

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to ask out my son’s teacher even if it risks changing something sacred in his life? Or should I just keep pretending this isn’t killing me a little more every time I see her?

Lucien De Leon (The Uninvited)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for not being able to look at my best friend the same after I saw her camming and moaning my name?

Yeah. I know how that sounds. But please let me explain before you judge.

I (M, 29) have been best friends with R (F, 28) since we were kids. Grew up in the same neighborhood, went through awkward teen years together, cried on each other’s shoulders during breakups, shared popcorn during horror movie marathons, the whole “platonic soulmates” deal. Everyone always assumed we’d end up together but we never crossed the line. Mostly because I never had the guts.

Truth is, I’ve been in love with her since high school. She’s funny, brilliant, completely unfiltered and has this laugh that makes me feel like everything’s okay. I never told her because I didn’t want to lose what we had.

Then last week, I was up late, bored, scrolling whatever and I ended up on a cam site. Just clicking around, not expecting anything.

And there she was.

On camera. 

In the most sinful lingerie I’ve ever seen and looking gorgeous as ever. And at first I froze. I thought, “No way. That can’t be her.” But it was 100% her. The mole on her hip, the way she chews her lip when nervous, her voice. 

And then she moaned my name. Not in passing. Not like in a roleplay type of way. My actual real name. I exited so fast I nearly dropped my phone. I haven’t told her. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop picturing it. Her, saying my name, like that. And now every time we hang out, it’s like a war in my head, part of me still wanting to protect her, the other part completely wrecked by desire and curiosity. I feel like I’ve violated something, even though she’s the one streaming it publicly. I feel like a creep but also kind of hopeful? Like maybe she feels something for me, too? I don’t know what to do. I can’t unsee it and I don’t know if I should talk to her, confess, or bury it forever.

So Reddit… AITA for not being able to treat my best friend the same now that I’ve seen her in that way, even if she doesn’t know I know?

Oberyn Martell (Game of Throne)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for falling in love with the enemy and not telling her I originally used her to get revenge on her family?

I (41M) come from a family with blood in the streets and revenge in its bones. We’ve been at war with another family, let’s call them the Ls, for decades. The kind of feud where you don’t just destroy businesses, you burn bloodlines.

A while back, I met her. Let’s call her R (32F) and is the youngest from that said family. She walked into a neutral club downtown like she owned it, and every man in the room turned to look. So did I. At first, I saw an opportunity. I’m not proud of it but I’ll be honest, I wanted to get close to her to hurt her family. Seduce her. Use her. Break her heart. Maybe learn a few secrets along the way. That was the plan.

Except, it didn’t go that way.

She didn’t fall easily. She’s not some porcelain princess. She challenged me, even mocked me. Didn’t take any of my shit. And somehow, in all that fire and venom, I started wanting her. Not as a pawn. As a person. As mine. We've been seeing each other in secret for almost a year now. Behind closed doors, it’s real. It’s not a game. I bring her flowers. She brings me peace. She’s the only one who touches me like I’m a man, not a monster. And gods help me, I think I’d burn down my whole empire just to keep her safe.

But I haven’t told her the truth. That I used her at first. That I lied when I said I just "ran into her." That I walked into her life with a knife hidden behind my back and only dropped it once I realized I didn’t want to hurt her, I wanted to keep her. Now I’m stuck. If I tell her the truth, I risk losing her forever. If I don’t, I’m living a lie. Every time I touch her, I wonder if she’d still look at me the same if she knew what I was when this started.

So Reddit… AITA for not telling her? For falling in love with the one woman I was supposed to destroy?

Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for wanting to say yes when my boss’s daughter asked me to get her pregnant to avoid sleeping with her fiancé?

I know how that title sounds. Believe me, I’ve lost sleep over it.

I (late 30s M), am an ex-military, currently working in private security. I was hired by a very rich, very controlling man to be his daughter’s bodyguard. Let’s call her R (mid-20s, beautiful, clever, and way too good for this world or for me).

R’s family is old-money, traditional and practically treats her like a business asset. A few months ago, they arranged for her to marry some stiff in a suit who’s more in love with her father’s power than with her. She doesn't love him, she’s made that clear. And now her family is pushing for kids. Like, very soon. Like, contracts signed and wedding night kind of pressure.

I’ve seen the way she looks after long meetings. Like she’s drowning. I’ve heard her cry in her room when she thinks no one’s listening. But I didn’t expect what she asked me. She pulled me aside yesterday. Calm, serious and no games. She said she couldn’t go through with letting a stranger own her body. That if she had to have a child, she wanted to choose the father. Someone she trusted. Someone she felt safe with. Someone like me. She said she wouldn’t expect anything else. No strings. No relationship. Just this one thing. And god help me, I want to say yes.

Because I’ve been falling for her since day one. Quietly. From the shadows. I was hired to protect her, not touch her, but every time I see her, I want to pull her away from all of this. From her family. From the cold fiancé. From the life she never chose.

But if I say yes, am I crossing a line? Taking advantage of her desperation? If I say no, I keep things clean, professional but I leave her alone in something that clearly terrifies her.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting to say yes when she asked me to give her something real in a life full of things she never chose?

Reed Richards (Fantastic 4)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for constantly arguing with my scientific rival, even though I might actually be in love with her?

Let me start by saying I’m not great with emotions. Equations? Fine. Quantum mechanics? My playground. Human connection? That’s where I fall apart.

I (40M) work in advanced theoretical physics, and I’m fairly well-known in my field. A few years ago, a new name started popping up in peer-reviewed journals. Let’s call her R (34F). She’s brilliant, bold and completely unapologetic. And somehow, infuriatingly, smarter than me in areas I used to dominate.

We met at a symposium and things escalated. What began as subtle jabs turned into full-blown intellectual warfare. Debates in front of panels. Arguments in laboratories. Petty rebuttals in published work. To everyone else, we’re rivals, frenemies at best, sworn enemies at worst.

But here’s the part no one knows, I don’t hate her at all.

In fact, I admire her more than anyone I’ve ever met. She challenges me. She keeps me on my toes. And, God help me, she’s gorgeous when she’s yelling at me about my “antiquated entropy model.” I’ve even found myself intentionally provoking her just to see the fire in her eyes. The problem? I’ve backed myself into a corner. I’ve spent so long acting like she’s my nemesis that I don’t know how to flip the script. I can’t just say, “Hey, I know I’ve spent the last three years criticizing your work in front of Nobel committees, but want to grab dinner sometime?”

She probably does hate me. Or worse, she sees me as a childish competitor who can’t handle being challenged by a woman. And maybe that’s not entirely wrong.

So Reddit… AITA for keeping up the act? For pretending to hate her when in reality I can’t stop thinking about her? I don’t even know if she’d take me seriously if I tried to be honest now. Or is it too late to change the rules of the game?

Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion)

~~ COMING SOON ~~

AITA for developing feelings for a witness in a murder case even though I’m the lead investigator and she’s the victim’s wife?

I know how it sounds. I hate that I’m even writing this. But here we are.

I (M, 40s) work in law enforcement, been doing it a long time. I’ve seen the worst of people. I’ve interviewed killers with no soul behind their eyes, and families so broken by grief I had to go sit in my car afterward and just breathe.

Then came her.

Let’s call her R (30s F). She was the wife of the man we found shot dead in their home. Brutal scene. She was there too, barely alive when we arrived. Beaten, bloodied and she fought like hell to survive. We think she wasn’t supposed to make it. Suspect must’ve thought she was dead when he fled.

We put her into a protective program while we sort this out. There’s still a threat, still pieces missing. And since I’m the lead on the case, I’ve been around a lot.

It started small, making sure she felt safe. Bringing her updates. Listening when she needed to talk about the past. Her husband wasn’t exactly Prince Charming. There’s a lot to unpack there. And somewhere along the line, I started seeing her as more than a witness. More than a case file. She’s sharp and resilient. The kind of woman who makes you want to be softer just standing near her. And she smiles at me, like she’s grateful I’m there, like she trusts me.

But here’s the thing: her husband just died violently. No matter how their marriage was, he’s gone and I’m the man investigating it. I’m supposed to be objective, professional. And I am, I swear I am. But I can’t lie to myself anymore and pretend I’m not catching feelings I shouldn’t. I haven’t acted on anything. I’d never cross that line. But the way she looks at me sometimes, I wonder if she feels it too.

So Reddit… AITA for wanting something with a woman who’s still technically grieving her dead husband, while I’m supposed to be the one protecting her?

[jetblack4realz]

you call this a date? - rip wheeler

summary - rip's the new kid on the ranch and you sure as hell love to tease him about it

word count - 1.7k

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when rip showed up at the ranch you didn't think twice about him. just another stray boy john had picked up along the way somewhere.

you'd been working summers with the duttons since you were thirteen. all of your siblings had done it, your families were real good friends, and you were no exception.

well, except that you were the only girl.

the other wranglers adored you from the get-go and you'd become a staple part of the team over the years. you'd seen your fair share of young boys come in and out of the ranch. very few lasted past their sixteenth birthday.

except for rip.

you didn't know exactly when he'd turned eighteen, but you knew that he was your age. he'd always stayed quiet, just put his head down and worked, which you respected.

it was that and the way he looked at the animals that made you notice him. he cared for them like they were something reverent, something worth protecting.

and, yeah sure, he was cute. in a boyish brooding sort of way - like if he stopped to breathe for two seconds a raincloud would pop up behind him.

the older hands whispered things about him since no one really knew his story - words like "murder" and "abuse" and "hell of a life" tossed around along with his name.

but none of that scared you. not at all.

you loved teasing the hell out of him. and while he could take the other wranglers' jokes like a champ, he always seemed to get pretty flustered when you took to him.

you tossed a rag in his face as he washed tack, laughing lightly as he threw it back in the bucket with a small frown.

"i think you missed a spot there, cowboy," you told him, pointing at the leather as you walked up behind him. he knitted his brows, following your finger before you turned and flicked him in the forehead. you laughed. "got ya."

he rolled his eyes as you walked off, heading off to do whatever chore you'd been asked to do without him.

when you'd get paired together, you'd pass by him on your horse as you gathered cattle and call his way something joking like: "stop lookin' so serious! we've got scarecrows for that!"

he always huffed, just continuing on with his work.

the one that stuck with him the most was when you were both on fence duty in the middle of july. you both were sweating up a storm as you moved down the fence line, you resorting to stripping down to a tank top and tying your flannel around your waist instead. you poured some of your water bottle into your hand and splashed it on your face.

"geez, it's hot," you complained.

"yeah, it sure is," rip said with a sigh, standing from his crouched position to pull his shirt over his head and shove it in his saddle bag.

he was way more toned than you'd expected, and the beads of sweat covering his shoulders and running down his spine wasn't harsh on the eyes either.

you grinned, whistling loudly as you eyed him. "damn, wheeler! it really is hot - and i ain't talking about the weather no more."

he side-eyed you, but you could see the light pink flush rising to his cheeks - and that wasn't from the weather either.

"you done messing with me now?" he asked.

you shook your head, laughing as you offered him your water bottle. "not even close."

and just like that, a friendship started forming. well, something close to one. close enough that you started spending your very brief lunch breaks together and sharing more easy conversations during dinner or as you worked. close enough that you began to notice the small smiles you pulled from him, or the way his eyes lingered as you passed.

the pie thing started as another tease.

"you gonna keep hiding in the barn all night or are you finally gonna let me steal you away for an evening?" you asked, stepping into the stables with a small smile.

he looked up at you with wide eyes, mouth open as he looked for a response.

"you promised me pie, wheeler," you told him in a sing-songy tone, smile widening as you walked closer up to him.

he looked at the tack wall like it had something important to say. "i didn't say i had pie, i said i knew where to get pie."

you crossed your arms, raising a brow with a teasing grin. "you backing out on me, cowboy?"

"no. just didn't think you were serious," he admitted, jaw tightening slightly even as a flicker of amusement flashed behind his eyes.

"i'm always serious about dessert."

there was a long pause, like he was doing the math in his head before he set his rake to the side, and waved you after him.

you followed obediently, grinning excitedly as he flicked the lights off and walked to the back of the bunkhouse where his old ranch truck sat a bit of a distance from the rest of the guys'.

he pulled the door open and fished a takeout box from under the seat. he nodded towards the bed. "go on."

you climbed quickly into the bed, taking the box from him to let him hop in himself before you both sat up against the window, facing the vast expanse of mountains and the slowly emerging stars lined up above them behind the setting sun.

you opened the little box and grinned at the sight of gator's peach pie.

"damn, you stole from the chef. i guess you do have a rebellious side," you teased, and you saw that cute little blush rise to his cheeks. "now do you got forks or are we going full heathen?"

"heathen?" he echoed with a small laugh as he pulled two mismatched plastic forks from his jacket pocket. "that's what you think of me?"

you grinned as you took one from his hand. "i think you try real hard not to show how thoughtful you are."

he didn't say anything to that, only watching you for a few moments before turning to the pie. he gestured for you to take the first bite and so you did, smiling once the sweet cinnamony pastry melted in your mouth.

"oh, that's unfair. now you're setting expectations," you told him.

rip finally cracked a small. small, but there. "can't say i've ever cared much about expectations."

"you care about mine?" you asked, glancing sideways at him.

he didn't answer again, the question just hanging comfortably in the air between you both. he stabbed his fork into the pie, both of you picking at it as you slowly scooted closer together.

at some point you'd grabbed his hand and he'd been happy to lace his fingers with yours, eyes on the stars as your head fell against his shoulder.

"you ever done this before?" you asked quietly.

he snorted. "what - eat stolen pie and sit in the back of my truck past curfew with a girl?"

you smiled. "i meant something like a date."

he faltered, looking down at the half eaten pie.

"no," he answered. "not really my thing."

"why not?"

"i don't live the kind of life that leaves time for it. don't live the kind of life that leaves girls wanting me to make time for it," he said softly.

you hummed, squeezing his hand. "well i'm glad you did make time for it. you're doin' alright so far."

his lips quirked into a small sort of smile. "only you would call this a date."

"only you would think this isn't."

he looked over at you, brows knitted slightly as he met your eyes with an intensity you weren't prepared for. the wind whistled around you both, and he watched as it blew your front pieces across your cheek. he softened a bit when you smiled up at him, reaching his free hand out hesitantly to tuck the hairs behind your ear, pausing and letting his fingers brush lightly against your cheek.

"i don't know how to do this," he admitted roughly, eyes bouncing between yours to gauge your reaction. "i didn't grow up with much... tenderness."

"i think you're doing just fine, cowboy," you told him softly, grabbing his hand and pressing it more firmly against your cheek, leaning into him.

his eyes flicked to your lips and you were all too aware of it, leaning closer to him as he finally dipped down to press his lips to yours.

you reciprocated immediately, slightly surprised at the pull he gave you to get you to lean into him more.

you just figured it was his first kiss - evidently, it wasn't.

you let out out a breath when he pulled away, brows knitting as he looked away from you. "sorry."

"don't be," you said, kissing him again shortly and smiling through it. when you pulled back, he was smiling with you. "i liked it."

by the time you wandered back to the bunkhouse the sky was pitch black and the stars were coating it completely. you couldn't hear the wranglers yelling about some card game, which told you it was well past midnight - and way past your unofficial curfew.

rip held your hand tightly, using it to pull you back towards him just short of the porch.

"don't tell anyone about this, yeah?" he said, looking at you intently. "about the pie or anything else."

you smirked, squeezing his hand. "why? scared they'll think you're soft?"

his eyes were serious when they met yours and he gave you a simple shake of his head. "i ain't soft. but i got something to protect now."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead when he moved back towards the stairs, pulling you up after him as your smile softened and then grew again.

it lingered all the way to bed.

and so did the taste of peach pie on your lips.

[blissfulbarbie]

I Hope You're Happy / Joel Miller x Reader

Description: Joel breaks up with you, thinking that he's setting you free to chase your dreams. And you do. And he gets another girl pregnant. And you meet each other in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. And you hope the other is happy. But you're not. You're both not.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Angst angst angst. No outbreak AU.

Deep down, you knew this day would come. What did you expect, dating someone 10 years older than you? You just didn’t think it would come this soon. Or that it would hurt this much. 

As you sat there in the dimly lit living room, the weight of Joel's words hung heavily in the air. It had been a typical evening, sharing a meal and telling each other about your day, but something felt different tonight. The air seemed heavy with tension and Joel’s smiles didn’t really reach his eyes, betraying an inner turmoil that you hadn't seen before.

"Listen," he began, his voice tinged with regret, "I’ve been thinking a lot about something."

You felt a knot tightening in your stomach as you nodded, prompting him to continue.

Joel stared at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "I love you. So much. More than I ever thought I could love someone. But, I can't keep pretending that I can give you everything you deserve. I'm 35, and I've lived a life that's... complicated. I don't want to tie you down, especially when you have so much of the world left to explore."

You tried to understand his perspective. Tried to see where he was coming from but all you could think was, Why now? Why now when I’ve already fallen in love with you?

"I don't want you to look back one day and regret being with me," he continued, his voice gentle as he clasps both of your hands in his. "I couldn’t live with myself if one day you look at me and all I’d see is regret in your eyes. I want you to experience the world, to find your own path. I know you'll go on to do amazing things, and I don't want to be the reason you didn't." His eyes glimmered with tears. 

“And what about what I want?” You stared back at him, defiant. “What if I want to be here with you?”

He smiled softly and shook his head. “You know, I could be selfish and keep you here with me. But what can you achieve in this town, really? You had such big dreams when we met, remember? Don’t think I forgot.” 

He was right. You passed on a few big job opportunities in New York when you settled down with Joel, and you kept telling yourself you’d apply next week, which became next month, next year, until it never happened. Suddenly a fancy job and new apartment in the Big Apple didn’t seem appealing anymore. Not when you had Joel. 

“Dreams change.” was all you managed to get out before your throat started to tighten and you felt the prickling of tears in your eyes.

Joel pulled you in for a hug and buried his face in your shoulder. “Don’t change them for me. Never for me.” 

Deep down, you knew you had to go. Not because you wanted to, but because you knew Joel would never forgive himself if you didn’t. It was ironic and so painfully stupid that it hurt - he thought this breakup would help you and you went through with it to help him. 

So there you went. You packed your bags and you were out of there in less than a week. You moved in with a friend in New York for a couple of months until you secured a stable job and an apartment. You followed Joel's advice, exploring the world, pursuing your dreams, and building a life that was uniquely your own. You missed him more than you cared to admit, but you knew that his intentions had been pure, and in a way, it did benefit you. 

You have proper savings now, and you are a fully independent adult, carving your way painfully through a year of hard work, job searches, apartment hunting - all while navigating a broken heart. And while you love your new life, late at night in the dark of your fancy new apartment overlooking the city skyline, you often found yourself thinking, was it all worth it? 

But you shake your head out of the daze eventually. Because if it isn’t worth it then all the pain and all the tears were for nothing. So you had to love this life. Forced yourself to love it because that’s what Joel wanted for you. Joel. Even now, you still live for Joel. 

Until you didn’t. Your fingers freeze on your phone as you read the caption on Cassie’s new instagram post with a man who looks all too familiar. 

Excited to welcome a new chapter into our lives. 👶❤️

Your stomach sinks. Your phone drops to the bed. And tears sting your eyes. No. It can’t be. You pick up the phone again and there he is. Your Joel, messy hair as if he just rolled out of bed and his scruffy beard. Smiling at Cassie who’s holding a picture of an ultrasound. CASSIE? And JOEL?

You try to think back to every interaction they had during the course of your relationship but it had never been more than polite small talk at neighbourhood gatherings or run-ins at the grocery store. Wasn’t she married? Fuck this. You double tap the picture, giving it a “like”. This will give them something to talk about, you think spitefully. He wanted me to move on with my life? Well this is me, moved on. As you throw your phone to the other side of the bed, the pain finally sinks in and you cry into your pillow, wondering if you truly, will ever move on. 

In the years that pass, you try to distract yourself with work and your new friendships. On paper, your life in New York was going swimmingly well and you had even dated a couple of nice guys. Dating still gives you a little twinge in the heart but you ignore it for the most part. People would kill for the life you have and you will NOT be ungrateful about it. 

But of course, life is never that simple. Just when you think you’re able to find happiness, you get thrown a curveball. And this curveball came in the form of Joel Miller, standing in the cereal aisle of your local grocery store. He’s older, grayer, but damn him, he still looks so fucking good. You stand there staring for a moment, while he examines the box of Cap’n Crunch. As he puts the box back down and glances up, he meets your eyes and you hate this cliche, but you swear to God, time stands still. 

He whispers your name, almost in disbelief as his brows furrow. “Hey. Wow.” 

“Hey.” 

“You… How are you?” 

“I’m good. Yourself?” 

“Yeah great.”

Somehow this exchange cuts you deeper than the day he broke up with you. When did you become people who could barely speak 3 words to each other? 

Trying to alleviate the clenching of your heart, you speak up. “What are you doing here? This is the last place I thought I’d ever run into you.” 

He chuckles softly. “Yeah, I uh.. Tommy’s up here meeting a couple of friends and asked me to tag along. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out by the way, I should have texted when I knew we were heading –” 

You cut him off, not wanting to hear lies. “No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to. You must be busy now anyways with the kid.” 

His eyes soften at that, guilt and pain flashing through them but you push on. “It’s fine, really. You’re not obligated to tell me these things. I just saw on Cassie’s instagram. Is she here too?” 

At that, he visibly stiffens and clears his throat as he replies, “Oh, Cassie and I aren’t together anymore. Well we were never.. But we kind of.. Yeah she’s not in the picture. It’s just me and Sarah.” 

Sarah. He had a girl. A little girl. Your stomach twists and you kind of feel like throwing up so you try to find an exit. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Well, Sarah is lucky to have you. I always knew you’d make a good dad.” 

He smiles for the first time in this conversation. “Truthfully, I have no idea what I’m doing half the time but she’s a good kid.” 

Enough. Enough. Enough. “Well, it was nice meeting you again Joel, and I’m glad you’re doing well–” 

“No, wait. Can we talk, please? I.. I’ve missed you. I want to talk.” Joel steps towards you as if to stop you from leaving but then holds himself back. 

“I don’t think we have anything much to say to each other anymore, Joel, don’t you think?” You chuckle a little to mask the overwhelming urge to cry. 

“I just want to know how you’re doing.” He looks at the ground, like a puppy scolded by his owner and you know you can’t resist the floodgates that pour out. You take a deep breath and let it all out in one exhale.

“Fine. You want to know? I’m doing great, just as you said I would. I make a ridiculous amount of money every year, I have a fancy apartment that overlooks the city, I have nice friends and a good life. It’s everything you wanted for me.” 

“You deserve it. I knew you would.” He says, nodding with a sad smile.

“So why don’t I feel happy yet?” You can’t believe it but you actually start to cry. Here in the middle of the damn cereal aisle in front of your ex-boyfriend. 

He stands stunned for a moment, his eyes concerned and brows furrowed. He eventually steps fully in front of you this time. His hands hesitate, as if he doesn't know where to put them, until he settles for your shoulders. “I’m sorry. I thought.. I thought you would be–” 

You bat his hands off your shoulders. “Yeah, you did. But it doesn’t matter because what’s done is done and we’ll never get it back. Any of it.” 

He says your name, pleadingly. 

“No, I don’t blame you. I left, didn't I? It was my decision too. I guess deep down some part of me thought I would be better off. And in a way I am. I really am. But I cannot lie to you and say that I’m happy Joel, because I’m not. And nothing will change that. Because this is my life now.” 

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as the weight of the years of separation hangs there. “I’m not either,” he whispers. 

“What?” 

“I’m not.. happy. Cassie and I had a fling when I was heartbroken and dealing with our breakup. She had just gotten divorced and I was.. I was planning to ask for you back. I was prepared to get on a fucking airplane and beg on my knees until you took me back. Whether that meant moving you back home or me moving here, it didn’t matter to me. We’d make it work. I just wanted you to know that I made a mistake and I shouldn’t have decided for you.” He places his hands on your shoulders again, and you let them stay this time. 

He continues, speaking quickly as if a dam has burst. “But then Cassie got pregnant. And I knew I had to make a choice. We said we’d try to raise the kid together and be a family but.. A few months after Sarah was born she just left. Literally, took off and left, and I have no idea where she went. Frankly, I don’t even care. And then I got so busy with the kid and then years passed, and I just lost the timing. What, am I just supposed to call you up 10 years after breaking up with you, telling you what a joke my life has become? How I’ve regretted every moment since you packed your bags?” 

You let all of his words sink in for a while before choking out, “And what do I do with all this information now? What do you expect me to do?” 

He’s tearing up and his voice rises a little as he replies, “Nothing. I don’t expect nothing. I just needed you to know that I never spent a day without thinking of you or loving you. And that I’m sorry. And that I wish you were happy, because if you were, then at least all of this bullshit would be worth it. But you’re not.” 

You nod, your brain not fully able to come up with words at this point, so he continues. “If you’d told me you were happy, I would have swallowed my pride, wished you well, and walked out of this store with the knowledge that at least all this pain has finally brought you joy. But we’re both hurting now, so what does that make us?” 

“Two idiots crying in the cereal aisle?” You offer with a small chuckle through your tears. 

He breathes out a small laugh. “Yeah. That it does.” 

A woman passing through the aisle snaps you both back to reality as you wipe your tears and gather yourselves. “It is really good to see you, Joel. And.. thank you for telling me all of it. It doesn’t change anything but I think I needed to hear it.” 

He shakes his head before looking into your eyes. “You know what the sick part is? 10 years ago I told you I never wanted you to look at me with regret in your eyes. Yet here you are.” 

You nod and smile sadly. There’s nothing left to say. 

His gaze turns soft. “I hope you’ll be happy someday. Maybe not now, but someday.” 

“Maybe. And yourself?” 

“Maybe.” He replies cheekily, smiling softly. With that, he pulls you in for a hug and the familiar waft of his cologne transports you back to 10 years ago when you hugged in his living room before saying goodbye, when you used to cuddle together so close at night, when he used to hug you before leaving for work. Your memories together flash before your eyes like a sick Hallmark movie except this time you know the ending. 

You feel the press of his lips against your head and you swear you hear him whisper the words “I love you” but you can’t be sure because your heart is pounding and you can feel it in your ears. Your life from this point on will always be divided into before and after. The point where you know, you just know, the choice you made is irreversible. You will never have Joel Miller ever again.

As you pull away, you both tearfully smile and look at each other for the last time. You spend a good minute just looking, memorizing the other’s face. You both don’t bother with the polite pleasantries of promising to keep in touch because you know that would be a lie. It would be too painful. This is your fate now. 

You walk past each other, leaving your memories and feelings behind in the dust of your footprints. To passersby, you look like strangers. Passing each other in the cereal aisle, meeting for a moment and then never again. And maybe that’s what you are now. Strangers, destined to be in each other’s lives for a moment, and then never again. 

Joel eventually goes back home to Austin, and you stay in your beautiful apartment which seems to be mocking you with how big and yet empty it feels. 

Joel looks at his daughter and wonders what it would be like if this kid was yours, and you stare at your phone, a message from your new date asking you to confirm a meeting time flashing on your screen.

Joel wonders what life would be like if you’d stayed. You wonder the same thing.

Tag list: @just-some-random-blogger @joeldjarin @pattwtf

[writingwisterias]

The different eras of Leon and how you would be able to get him to relax with affection?

Hi Anon!

Of course, we have to make sure our touched-starved man feels loved! I hope you like it! Requests are still open for Eras Leon <3

Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, drinking, GN!Reader

RE2, RE4R, Infinite Darkness, Damnation, RE6, Vendetta, Death Island

RE2:

We all know this is the softest version of Leon, so I think he would regularly accept it.

Before he joined the force he was still working his way through college. He would come and knock on your dorm room or drive to your house after a particularly hard exam.

Falling onto your bed as soon as your room's warmth enveloped you.

I think he would be more likely to hold you instead of wanting to be held in this situation. Sitting against the headboard watching over your shoulder as you continued to do whatever you were doing.

Studying at this time is a no-no, he's already used enough brain power he just wants to forget about all that for just a second.

After Raccoon City I think would be a different case:

He's older now so you both moved into a flat close to the area whilst he looked for one in the city itself.

He would return from that night covered in who knows what looking like a lost puppy with a young girl next to him.

You would help them both, letting him sit in the kitchen as you tended to Sherry first - he would rather you go straight to him but he's patient.

Once he's showered and freshly dressed he returns to the living room seeing you set up the sofa bed. You don't even get to sit down until he's in your arms.

Squashing you as he holds you close.

You can feel him cry, his tears wetting your shoulder so you just hold him. Stroke the wet strands of your hair until he calms down.

The next few days he's like a shadow, following you around the apartment holding you close whilst you cook/wash up. Showering with you. Doing the Laundry.

When they both get taken away you miss it, miss his form in the corner of your eye. Knowing that when he does eventually return he's going to be 10x worse.

RE4R:

So I would say Leon thrives off acts of service at this time frame of his life.

He just loves feeling needed and doing things for people.

So it would actually relax him when he's home and he does simple things around the house like tackle the huge pile of laundry ( most of it is his work clothes anyway, he doesn't need you touching them)

If he's home he would take you out for lunch on your breaks. Don't expect to pay for a thing because he won't let you.

I think the simpleness of doing chores would relax him. Just being able to solely focus on folding the laundry like you like it. Getting lost in the sound of the hoover. Even just chopping food for dinner.

He would do much larger things, making sure to keep busy - you have a leak in a tap. Don't worry he's got it. You wanted to repaint your wall, also done.

Even doing things just as simple as taking you to and from work, taking you out to work parties or going out with your friends.

He's already got a stable job, not the one he wanted sure. I think he would have had a fear of losing the idea of being able to have a stable home life so now he has you he works hard to maintain it.

I do think he would enjoy you sleeping on top of him like a weight blanket. Or sitting in his legs if you are watching Tv.

Infinite Darkness:

The most touchy feely man with you and only you. You walk past he's slapped your ass, Holds your hand in public, Hands on your lower back as he guides you around.

When it comes to his affection he's like putty in your hands.

I say he rarely gets nervous, or you rarely see any signs of it. So when you do it's bad. Something must be really bothering him.

In these times I dont think he's actually searching for a touch comfort instead actually a conversation, something to cling onto and focus instead of whatever is in his mind.

If you were his partner in a mission, I think he would be talking to you non stop about literally anything other than what you were doing.

When they saw his performance increase you were paired all the time, little do they know it's because he's telling you about some random advert he watched, the latest recipe he tried from a cooking channel

When it does come to intimacy, I think he would be at his most vulnerable, lots of kisses, hugs and just melts into your arms.

Damnation:

We all know he drinks to relax.

So I'm thinking he would like you sat on his lap, cuddled in close with a glass in his hand. You would prefer without the drink but knowing he's not going to give up that habit any time soon you accept it.

I think he would want to just have you there, that's more than enough for him at this current moment. Nothing fancy.

His hands would run through your hair, kissing the top of your head. Even as the drink starts to make his brain fuzzy and his co ordination begins to lack.

His hand misses your head every time he goes to stroke it again but the thought is there.

He's always off somewhere being called when he's on holiday or just taking a break so I think any time with you is where he just relaxed and smothers you in love.

He's a dick sometimes when the drink gets too much and he'll return to bed like a puppy holding you close to him.

RE6:

Leon just loved your house, it was always so much more welcoming than his place was.

Loads of soft furnishings, blankets, throw pillows. Candles making the place smell nice. Fairy lights everywhere.

Never understood the no big light rule until he came into your house.

There was one spot that you would always be dragged to for at least an hour. Your bed.

It was always filled with throw pillows, stuffies you had collected. Creating the perfect cosy corner.

He would always drag you there,practically throwing you in the mountains of soft furnishings before climbing into your arms himself.

Almost instantly falling asleep in your arms as you again light scrape his scalp as you work through his hair.

He's also the type of person where when you think he's asleep you move your hand away or stop the movements and he just picks it up and puts it back.

Vendetta:

The slightest touch would make this man cave, especially yours.

Even better just words of affirmation. Hearing that you love him and that you are there for him. That you will always be there for him will make this man instantly relax and cave

He could be having the worst day and you mention to him that you love him and the stress Is gone, almost forgotten about.

Holding his hand is a big comfort, just knowing that you are there and he is still here is big for him.

He's obviously drunk a lot but it doesn't make him careless, instead I think he would feel guilty for being like that and use it as fuel to comfort you until he relaxes or gives up on the bottle completely.

Huge cuddler but I think more in terms of spooning, like he just needs you as close as you can possibly get.

Shielding you from the world.

Like you are pressed into the back of the sofa and he's hanging off the edge holding onto you, back to the world because he'd rather go first than you.

Death Island:

I think he's at peace so it doesn't really get stressed or dealing with PTSD as much

He has more free time so acts of service, small things like re4r

I think he's changed from having to take care of the world to just you. You are his world after all.

I think just making sure you are happy and safe is his way of relaxing

You want to go to the mall for retail therapy. He's given you his card and coming with.

Want to go out for dinner? Booked you the fanciest place he can.

He's been so obsessed with the world that I think changing his mindset to just you was enough to relax.

His favourite cuddle position though is you laying on him, just the closest it gives. The weight of you is just as comforting.

It's his prime nap position

[lexaknoxville]

𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 - ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴋɴᴏxᴠɪʟʟᴇ

“𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘪’𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯���� 𝘺𝘰𝘶” - 𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯

description. | in which the boys go to film on a ranch, and knoxville can’t seem to keep his eyes off the girl in the cowboy boots.

warnings. | foul language. crude humor? idk man normal jackass shit.

notes. | if you enjoy pls like and reblog!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! MASTERLIST!!

Hot couldn’t even describe it.

Summers in the south were vicious. Some days the heat was enough to shelter you inside, not even the constant efforts of the ac units were enough to cool people down. Today was almost one of those days. Had it been just the tiniest bit hotter and not a single person would be out here running around.

Lucky for you though, your boss, Jim, decided that it wasn’t all that bad. So against several complaints, you and all your coworkers got sent in today. Jim made the argument that yall had “Special Visitors” coming in today, and he couldn’t afford not having a full staff.

You’re not exactly sure what you expected out of the visitors, but you definitely weren’t expecting to pull up to an entire film crew sitting up by the stables.

“God this is gonna be fun”

You were able to avoid the filming going on outside all the way until your lunch break, which was unusual considering Jim is usually up your ass. Deciding to go for a quick smoke break you headed out to your car, only to be stopped by the sound of hollering and something falling over.

The sound was loud and the boisterous laughter following soon after had you not only curious, but a little frightened. Naturally, the curiousity got the best of you. Finding the source of all the noise wasn’t hard considering the large crowd of people.

Spotting one of your favorite coworkers, you pushed your way to the front to see what all the commotion is about.

“Janae, what in the hell is going on up here” you asked with an amused tone.

All she could do was laugh and shrug. Clearly confused as well, but mostly entertained.

Finally turning around to look at the group causing all the ruckus, they were interesting, to say the least. There was a boy with short black hair and black clothes, a goofy looking guy with a slightly grown out buzz cut, a guy with shoulder length brown hair, a blonde man with a beard, and a taller guy wearing a red cowboy hat.

odd group.

Standing in a circle of sorts, the 5 men were talking to the camera. It wasnt easy to make out what they were saying but there was definitely something along the lines of “horse shit” thrown in there. They stood around and talked for a minute before the man in the cowboy hat laughed loudly and ushered them away.

As they were all walking to do whatever it was they had planned out, your eyes seemed to linger on the cowboy a little longer than necessary. Finally taking the time to analyze his appearance, you realized he’s actually really fucking hot.

He had on a pair of dark sunglasses, dirty red converse that matched his hat, a little facial hair, and amazing arms. The sleeves of his t-shirt were tight around his biceps, and god did he look good.

You weren’t sure if it was the muscles, the light tan, or the way he was covered in sweat, but it drove you crazy. For the first time in a long time, the heat of the south was on your side.

The way you were staring must of caught the man’s attention, cause when you looked up he was staring right back at you. He smiled at you, and sent a small wave.

You waved back, but kept your smile small, trying to play it cool even though he had definitely saw you staring . He laughed a little, looking oddly flustered, and turned back to his group.

“Oh god, Janae i’m out. I’m gonna go find something to keep me busy. Bye baby.” you muttered out, a mixture of embarrassed and nervous. “Bye honey”

Taking long strides, you made your way back to work. Your mind still filtered back to what happened, you never get that flustered over random men!

What you didn’t know was that Johnny had watched you walk off. He had planned on showing off to get your attention, but you had left before they could even start the stunt.

“Knoxville i swear if you don’t get your head out of your ass i’m gonna smack the shit out of you.” ahhh Jeff always had such a way with words.

“Sorry man, i’m focused i swear” he wasn’t.

“No you weren’t, you were too busy checking out “mrs cowboy boots” over there.” Jeff laughed. Johnny just laughed, knowing he couldn’t deny it now.

“Listen, just get through this stunt and you can go talk to her during your break, ok man?” he swore. “ ok ok, let’s get this over with” he agreed before clapping Jeff on the back.

They had just finished all their stunts and Johnny was itching to come find you. He had been counting down the minutes until he could get off.

“Hey Jeff, i’m gonna go on over there, i’ll be back in a minute” Johnny shouted. “ok man, have fun” he shouted back, chuckling.

Immediately after getting the ok from Jeff, he ran off to find you. He must’ve searched around outside for more than fifteen minutes, but there was absolutely no sign of you. Right as he was about to give up, he saw the woman you were talking to earlier.

“Hey! Hey ma’am im sorry to bother you but umm” he paused, not knowing how to go about this without seeming like a creep. “i noticed you were talking to this woman earlier, and ive gotta ask, what’s her name”

Janae paused, trying to think of who he could be referring to. Once it finally hit her she smiled “Oh! was she wearing a white shirt and boots?”

“Yeah! yeah she was. What’s her name?” Johnny was almost bouncing he was so excited. “Yeah her names y/n, real sweet girl. She’s right inside that door over there if you want to go talk to her.”

Johnny swore at this moment that this woman was an angel. “Thank you so much, have a nice day!” he exclaimed, already turning around to go see you.

Once he finally got up to the door, he took a deep breath, making sure to collect himself. He opened up the door and walked inside, relieved to feel the cool air on his damp skin. He looked around for a quick minute before his eyes finally landed on you.

You were faced away from him, looking at some kind of paper. He took a second to admire you. A clean white shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and some roughed up cowboy boots.

God you were gonna be a problem, he could already feel it. He knew it as soon as he saw you outside, but seeing you up close made it so much worse. There was absolutely no reason for a woman to be so damn beautiful.

“Excuse me ma’am.”

Hearing another person in the once empty room startled you. You whipped around and took a second to catch your breath. Realizing it was the cute guy from earlier, you straightened yourself out and walked towards where he was standing.

“Oh gosh i’m so sorry, have you been standing there long? i was in my own little world over here” you admitted. “No, no i just got here, sorry to spook you.”

“No baby you’re fine, i should’ve been paying attention!” it was then that Johnny noticed your accent, and he could’ve sworn his knees almost buckled.

god she has a pretty smile.

shit he was staring.

“Ok, i’m just going to try to be straight forward here doll, i asked your friend outside where i could find you.” he admitted sheepishly. “I saw you out there while we were filming, and i was gonna come talk to you but you ran off before i could get the chance!”

All you could do was laugh. “Yeah i kinda dodged you a bit huh… my nerves got the best of me” you laughed. “So what’s your name cowboy?” you joked, motioning to his obnoxious red hat.

“Johnny, it’s nice to meet you.” he held his hand out for you to take. “Y/n, nice to meet you too.”

Feeling how much bigger his hands are than yours had you a little flustered. it was then you realized just how much bigger than you he really was. He had to be over 6 foot, and his wide shoulders added to the look.

“Well y/n, how would you feel about going out some time. I’m in town for a few more weeks if you’re interested.” Johnny questioned nervously.

Honestly you were shocked. There was absolutely no way this man who was not only handsome, but apparently pretty well known, was asking you out.

Your silence had Johnny worried, “If you don’t want to i understand completely, absolutely no pressure.”

“No, i’m sorry! i would love to!” you answered frantically, worried you had made a bad impression. “Why don’t you give me your number, and we can talk about getting together? I know some good places around here!”

Johnny let out a sigh of relief and smiled at you. God there was no way you were getting over that smile anytime soon.

“That sounds great doll”

THIS LITERALLY SUCKS IM SO SORRY!

IM HAVING SUCH BAD WRITERS BLOCK 😭 I HOPE YALL ARENT DISAPPOINTED 🙏

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD MAYBE LIKE A PART 2?!?

tags: @vaporub4ever @maddieeb3 @stplvrr @ilovewhiteboyz

[novashelby]

Stables & Sacks: A John Shelby x Reader Smut

Pairing: John Shelby x Reader Word Count: 5,000 Warning(s): CNC, choking, degrading language, offensive language, power imbalance, power dynamics. Fingering and vaginal sex. Slight voyeurism. It's smut, expect smut. The CNC is more on a fantasy level than actual CNC, so some situations in this may be slightly triggering. Summary: John finds the new stable keep eyeing him and his wife, and decides to let her get a taste herself. Ao3 Link This is submission #1 in my 'Spin Me' taboo challenge. I will not be tagging those who played just in case you don't want to read what you got. Just because some taboo kinks may be uncomfortable for you. So you can pick and choose which ones you like!

If you do read, please consider reblogging and commenting. Likes are lovely, but comments and reblogs are helpful! :) Thank you!

She wasn’t sure what her job title actually was. Just a village girl looking for money in the city to send back to the farm. But none of them dusty, stuffy, jail like factories did it for her. With monotonous work, day in and day out. Long and dreary, depressing and gray. She decided if she were to work in one of them, she best just pitch herself off in the canal. Better to be dead than a human machine. 

Her father knew a bloke in Birmingham. A factory owner, but also a stable owner among fifty other occupations. His brother needed someone to help out in his stables. Clean out the shit, move around the hay, feed the horse. You know, the shit a stable keep does. And father sent her to Birmingham, and when good ol’ Tommy Shelby realized she wasn’t looking to make his morning tea or sweep dust from his tables, he laughed. Is somethin’ funny? I been working horses since I was five. There were three of them, sitting around in a pub. Nursing on whiskey and puffing on whatever they chose to smoke. They shared looks of amusement, but the youngest agreed, not really feeling the idea of a man alone with his wife when he wasn’t around. Besides, a young woman could be helpful with the lot of bastards. 

He brought her home with him that day. The first thing she noted was, he looked like a really classy gangster. She knew from the rings on his fingers and the way he walked. However, he had a certain level of charm and softness the other two lacked. He opened the door for her and any time his eye caught hers, he’d smile. 

It made the drive to his home on the outskirts smooth and unnerving. John Shelby. The eldest was Arthur, the middle was Tommy. Well, wouldn’t John be the middle if they also had two other siblings? Hm, she was a middle child, too. She remembered asking him that day if he thought Finn would be expected to travel for work, too, being the baby? Your parents spoil ‘em, hm? No parents here, no.��

When she met the wife, she was kind and welcoming. Taking over for John, she showed her the room in which she can stay in. Even gave her a tour around the land and asked a whole lot of questions. Gypsies, she thought, weren’t really much different than the farmers like herself. The first dinner that they all broke bread was nice. More filling than anything she’d ever gotten at home. And when she pushed aside the fact he had a razor in his cap, they looked nothing less than a normal family. Loving and sweet, and rather joyfull. Unbothered by anything. 

Working for John wasn’t awful. She got up early and worked some morning hours, took a break at noon before doing the evening keep. In the beginning, he’d often check in at some point of the day and linger just enough to crack a joke or two. But as weeks went on, his lingers got longer. His gazes felt less casual and more purposeful. I’m surprised you care so much about your looks out here, he had teased one day, his eyes skimming over her bare legs. She’d been wearing a simple frock dress. It was quite thin and hardly a thing to wear working horses. Just a bit hot is all, Mr. Shelby. Never one to read anything properly, she did hoops trying to understand why his hand dropped from her shoulder to her lower back just to help reach a tool. Or why his fingers pressed in.

That night when everyone was already tucked away, she finished fixing something in the stable. She slid in the house and locked up before yawning her way up the stairs. A dim light peeked through their bedroom. The door just slightly cracked. She approached to peek her head in and let them know the job was done for the night, but as she got closer, she heard the familiar creeks of a rocking bed. Stopping, she attempted to step back and go into her bedroom, but she couldn’t help the curiosity. He listened for it; the heavy breaths, the low cursing, the tickled moans, and vile words sometimes spoken through sex. She leaned in, looking through. 

Esme had been leaned over and arched, face in the pillow. All so erotic as his fingers, the same ones that were digging into her flesh earlier that day, dug into her hips. They gripped tightly to keep her perfectly placed and arched for him to thrust. Her breath caught in her throat as he got lost in himself, sliding his hands over his wife’s back. His body pressed against hers while his hands cupped her breasts. In a daze like state, his tongue slid between her shoulders before biting playfully at her shoulder. Esme’s moans were getting throaty and deeper, begging while her thighs spasmed.

Watching, the little stable keep felt the familiar tingle of arousal build between her thighs. Just as she was about to feel down, John's eyes opened and caught her glance. Panic struck, she felt her feet glued to the ground, unable to move. Their empty stares continued for what felt like eternity. Thoughts and images of every worse outcome overwhelmed her. In the morning, she’d be fired. Or worse, now she'd have to walk back to her farm. But slowly he grinned and sent her a wink before pulling back and slamming into Esme, the empty air filling with a whimper of want and need.

She immediately stepped back and disappeared in her room, slamming the door shut. Falling on her bed, her heart thumped in anxiety. When the moans died down, she heard one of them climb from the bed and tread down the hall. Slowly, she climbed under the covers, not caring to wash. She watched as the shadow went past her door and she eased into the mattress, letting out some of the pressure. Would he tell Esme? 

But worst of all, would they say anything to her? She practiced in her head, I thought you were up and I wanted to let you know I fixed the thing. 

It wasn’t easy, but she eventually fell asleep. Then the next morning, instead of going to breakfast, she got up early enough everyone was still in their rooms, and slipped out the door to head to the stables. There was no rush in getting to the tasks. She took her time, looking over the horses, paying attention to their manes. Kindy scratching along their cheek with her nails. They were gentle horses. Mostly used for farm work or hobby, long retired from the racetrack. She pressed her nose to his, rubbing it in soft circles.

She was entirely entranced in the moment, not noticing him stepping in. John watched her, still wearing casual trousers and a white undershirt. His suspenders rested at his sides. Most saw John dressed in fine pressed suits with perfectly slicked hair. But that day, his hair strayed, and bangs tickled over his forehead. He took careful strides forward, his hands meeting gently at her hips. He watched the corner of her eyes; they shot open and her fingers froze over the horse. Her body became tense, and she slowly turned her head, blinking. He spared her no look, his hands massaging through her clothing; rubbing up and down her sides, snaking his hands around her waist. She was greeted with his face nuzzled in the crook of her neck, taking a deep inhale. Slowly, the corners of his lips tugged up into a grin. An all too knowing grin that she was weak for the male touch. His tongue flicked upward at her sensitive, pure skin—never been cursed by a man’s touch. 

Her bottom lip quivered, and she fought the words. Her hands rested over his, her fingers fighting to peel them off. “Mr. Shelby,” she whispered, a little shake in her voice. But she was unsure it was radiating from the buzz in her head; her nerves shaking and body uneasy. Or this heat building up in her core, radiating over her. Closing her eyes, letting out a long sigh, she thought back to that moment. The way he looked at her and winked. 

John let out a taunting, throaty chuckle. His lips dragged along her neck over the curve of her jaw to the back of her ear. His cool, wet lips placed a lingering kiss. “I saw that hand. Where it was going, what it wanted to do. My only question is, why did you stop?” His hand moved up, his fingers pressing at her skin. The palm of his hand pressed over her right breast, massaging lightly, inviting himself to all of what her body had to offer—not caring to ask or confirm. Because he already knew. He felt the low vibration of a repressed moan, fighting to come out. 

She tried to answer him, feeling her thighs press together. 

“Shhh,” he hummed. “Somebody likes to watch, dirty girl. Yet so bloody fookin’ shy about it. You should have stayed there, lifting your dress up.” His words started to trail off into low mumbles of gibberish, his nose caressing circles against her cheek. “My wife would have loved that, you know? You watching her. That’s her favorite position, being a whore. All bent over, holes nice and exposed for me.” His hand lifted up, feeling along her rosy, warm cheek. Clear embarrassment laid out on her face. She felt humiliated. His finger snagged a curl, coiling it around his finger. “But do you know what’d get her off even more? Watching me teach my naughty, dirty little stable keep a lesson. You dirty little voyeur, I bet you’re into some nasty shite, huh? If you like watching people like that.” 

She pushed back on him, flaring in panic. “No! No, no, no. I swear it was an-”

John stepped away, turning her, pressing her back gently against the wooden stable. Tilting her chin gently just enough for she’d look at him, he smiled. “Someone is only shy because they got caught, hm?” There was no way he was going to allow her to get away with standing there, acting small and innocent with her quivering chin. His hand found its way to her inner thigh, and only squeezed harder when she flinched. Really just a weak attempt at hiding all the curiosities in her head. “You should take the day. Hike the road heading to the pond.”

Her shoulders eased as he let go, giving her space. “I’m sorry?” she asked, pushing up straight, her eyes looking around for any inkling that someone was watching them. 

“I have some people coming to look at the stable,” he said, but he really meant his brother needed to talk to him and it was no business for some stable keep. “You can come back out at nine. You should come back out here at nine to feed ‘em dinner. Nine, at nine, eh?”

Nodding as she walked backwards, fingers playing with the fraying hems of her frocks. Her boots left heavy indents trekking in the mud. She reached the door, and looked over her shoulder. “Nine?”

With one nod, he said, “exactly nine.” And before she could leave, he asked her something she hadn’t quite understood. “Your color. What would ya’ say is your favorite one?” Purple. He smirked at that and winked. “Purple.” Like a nice bruise. 

Nine? When the clock struck 8:55 at night, she questioned what was so important at nine? There was a hint of something sinister in his tone, and she wondered if Esme would enjoy it so much, why did they have to meet in the stable at nine at night. But the curiosity only filled her with more desire; to know what John Shelby had planned, if anything. But knowing him, he did. All Shelby’s were meticulous in their actions. Slipping out the door, she quietly treaded through the soft rain kissed grown, leaving her little trail of shoe prints. It was such a quiet night. Quiet and clear. Except for the creaking of wood when she hit the stable and perhaps the distant sound of spring crickets humming. 

Questioning whether or not she should wait for him, or actually feed the horses, she started to roll down her tights and fold up her dress sleeves. Grabbing buckets of feed, she threw it over the wooden gate. I’ve only come out to feed the horses, is what she told herself, perhaps trying to convince herself that it was only a request. It was simply her job. But his hands and the way they travelled over her body, teasing at the idea of fucking her. 

But for fucks sake, she was so oblivious to it all. Out of all the men a Shelby could have hired, they hired her. A fucking village girl with a body. A nice one that swayed anytime she walked. And John would fucking hate to admit it, but village girls were so goddamn daft. Tired of whores and pub slags, having something linger around was something different. A little piece of ass that his eyes could follow, and Esme never gave a fuck. John, since the day she slid into his car, was watching her. It was only lucky that she fell into the trap; hearing them fuck. God, a naughty little thing, standing at the door. Unable to move, and caught in the wind of her own curiosities and desires. That little pathetic attempt at easing that heat between her legs, rolling up her excuse of a dress, only to quickly stop. Shyness was such a thing. The urge to break it, to run his teeth down its delicate skin, and tangle his hands in its hair for the simple purpose of hearing it cry out. So, yes, he fucking looked. For fucks sake, Esme looked…they all looked.

She was inching towards the back stall of the stable, fussing about enough that horses formed an opinion that she was fucking crazy. Just about to grab the tools, the door creaked. The moonlight glow seeped through, and she turned, but said nothing.  John Shelby stood there, blocking the exit, his arms crossed over his chest. His jaw tightened. She questioned if it really was all to do with his little game or was he drinking? He stepped forward. “What’s this, eh?” he said, nodding to her hardly covered legs. “Middle of the night.”

She looked around him, eyes slightly narrowed. “Feeding the horses?” she answered, a bit unsure. 

He looked past her, noting her empty hands. “With what?” She turned toward the grain sack, and nodded over to it, but it’d been a new sack. John cracked a little grin, all knowing as his strides became taunting. Her heart skipped a beat, and her only solution was to reach for the sack to open it, forgetting why they were both in such a place at such a time. His strides were longer than anticipated, and he was quick to grab her upper arm hard enough she whined out, and fought back with a tug. 

There was an unusual guttural tone to his voice that she never noticed before. The harder she tugged, the more he pulled, his fingers pressing into her flesh. She’d only worn a thin white frock, meant to be more of an undergarment than a standalone piece. And she skipped out on anything proper, like shoes, for one. But dressing to society’s standards was never the village girl’s norm. Nor was it for most girls and women of her background. John pushed back as he walked until her back hit the wooden gate of an empty stall. Flimsy, it shook and the metal locks clattered. “Always fookin’ teasing me. Acting so innocent, but knowing exactly what you’re doin’,” he said, low and laced with a growl. He leaned down to her level, and in a whisper much softer and kinder, “do you remember your favorite color?” Her body eased slightly and she nodded. “Repeat it. I want to hear you say it.”

Swallowing the hard lump down, she said, “p-purple.” It was hardly even a whisper, but a cracked voice. She felt her nerves set on fire. How one could be so nervous, but excited at the same time, she couldn’t comprehend. 

John smirked at her ear, his hand letting go of her arm, tickling down to her waist. He held her, teasingly swaying. “Good girl.” And that made her melt, her knees buckling. She reached out to hold on to his white undershirt. “You just say that anytime things get a little too much.” His lips dragged along her jawline before hovering over hers. His whiskey tinted warm breath meeting her sensitive lips. “I have a tendency,” he whispered, pinching her chin. “Of getting a little too…intense.” Her breath hitched as her body leaned against the stall. All her other options were blocked either by hay stacks, sacks of grain, or hm. How he stood so tall above her, making every fiber of her being feel small. John smiled down at her as his hands roamed over her arms; up and down, teasing and enjoying how each touch only added to the mass of goosebumps.

She rolled her shoulders, shaking him off. “Mr. Shelby, we can’t-”

He snorted at that, his hands finding their way to her waist, squeezing and massaging up the sides as he pushed in further. His body pressed up against hers, feeling heavy and domineering. And any time she’d try to back up, he just pressed her harder against the door. “Let me see you, eh?” he teased, hands teasing back around to cup her breasts, squeezing. Only a thin fabric shielding her. “No bra,” he pointed out under his breath, more in thought. His eyes fluttered up, his brows arched, almost to say…are you serious? 

 Embarrassed, she averted her attention downward. Hissing under her breath, she said, “let go of me.” He chuckled at her weak attempt to wither from his grasp. Because in the end, there was nowhere for her to go. He had her cornered, tightly and every bit to his advantage.

He met her face, grinning ear to ear. Before he spoke he spat downward at her feet. John was hardly trying, really, to fondle her. His hands just went naturally where they belonged; caressing and grabbing her sides, holding her perfectly in place. She’d fucking love this, he thought to himself, knowing Esme would be sat up on the table, hand already between her legs. Slap her around a bit, John, she’d say. He was bloody fucking sure of it! “You can’t fuckin’ do shit, can you? Hm?” The barn echoed with his low chuckle as he gave her cheek a nice ol’ tap. “Can’t fucking say shit—can’t fucking do shit, you understand? Hm? Because you been walking around here the way you fuckin’ do, wearing what you’re wearing-”

“J-john,” her lower lip quivered. She raised her hand, pushing it against his chest. But the way she buckled under him gave away all her intentions.

“Don’t,” he warned, sliding a hand up and behind her neck, grabbing it and tilting her up. She cried out in a wince, reaching to meet his hand. But before she could fiddle with the death grip of his fingers, his hand cupped her right tit roughly; squeezing the sensitive flesh. Between his fingers, he pulled and pinched at her nipple before slapping the sensitive flesh. She whined, trying to avoid looking at him. “You want me to stop? Hm?” he asked, flick the hardening bud. He watched as her mouth opened, but no words came out. The grip on the back of her neck tightened and his voice raised. And he turned her head, releasing her nipple to land a few good slaps. “I asked you if you wanted me to fuckin’ stop!” Specks of spit hit her lips. “Huh? Do you?!” Leaning in, his voice evened out. “Say the fuckin’ word, but if you don’t, I’m going to continue. Understand me, eh?” But she just froze there. Sighing, he released her neck and made her look at him. “If you don’t say the magic word, your favorite color, I won’t stop.” She swallowed the hard lump in her throat, her body feeling electric. She nodded. 

After giving him that final bit of permission, she gave a weaker attempt at pushing his chest. John shoved her around, and forcibly arched her over the grain sacks. Her legs kicked as she cried out when her cheek hit the sack. The rough fabric burned at her skin. Quickly, his hand was at her mouth, pressing hard to suppress any cry. “You keep makin’ all these noises,” he chuckled into her ear, nibbling at her lobe while his foot kicked open her legs. “Are you trying to be the village slut? Letting everyone listen to you get your cunt beat.” She felt herself arch her ass a little more when his other hand grabbed at her thumb, rubbing up before snaking inward. A low moan vibrated against his hand as he felt her bare folds. “And no fucking knickers, as expected. You really were searching for this, weren’t you?” You can’t get angry at a man for being a man.

John’s fingers felt up and down her folds, her arousal wet and sticky, and very much begging in need. She shuddered, her body twitching as it was all a new sensation. Odd, really. That was her first initial thought. His fingers played at her folds, just gently skimming over her clit, not wanting to rush. Lazily, almost, as he found his rhythm. He followed her lead in the way she whined  and whimpered, and her hips jerked. Clearly finding the need within her for more. The corner of his mouth lifted up in a knowing grin as his middle finger pushed in, curling up. When she jerked a bit too hard, he pressed his weight on her harder. “Shhhh.” 

His finger pumped in and out, sparing all mercy. If she wanted to tempt him, he was going to give her exactly what she was looking for. She knew exactly where to touch and what buttons to push, and when to withhold. Finding her g-spot easily, he paid special attention to it, pressing up and rubbing while his thumb did everything possible to tease her begging clit. He rubbed around it in teasing, tormenting circles. So much was happening and she couldn’t begin to understand the sensations clearly. Her leg kicked back as she cursed under her breath. John watched as her nails clawed at the sacks, fraying the straw claw. Red and rosy, her cheeks had the look of embarrassment. ”Someone didn’t think they’d give in so easily, did they?” he whispered as he left a lingering kiss below her ear. She cried something muffled into his hand. It sounded like please. John kept his movements as he removed his hand. “What? Hm?”

She was breathless, taking all the air she could. Please, she wanted to say please. His fingers felt so slow and purposely evil. More. Her body ached for more, and she no longer gave a fuck that her brain was confused. She was sick of hanging by the edge. In a hoarse voice, she said, “ple-”

He cut her off, shoving his index and middle finger in her mouth, hitting the back of her throat. She gagged on them, her fingers clawing harder. “Enough of that, hmm? We’re good.” He teased at how wet she was. The drag and thrust of his fingers drove deeper each time, trying to pull her just about over that edge she so desperately wanted. Or not. He wasn’t quite decided, yet. He felt her tightening around him, and there was some resistance. “Relax, relax,” he cooed, breaking character just slightly as he thumbed pressed against her clit, rubbing in rhythmic circles. A pace that fluttered through her body, bringing an overwhelming pleasure.

She hummed, vibrating at the feeling. Toes curling, thighs shaking, it broke within her. Her cheeks flushed a hot red as she moaned on his fingers. Drool dribbled over the sides of her mouth, traveling between her tits. The wave shocked through her so quickly her head felt fuzzy and under water. John smiled, watching her ride the wave, and he gently rubbed her back before his hand worked at his trousers. His cock free, already leaking needily with precum. One handedly, he positioned her hips before pressing his hand on her back. 

She looked over her shoulders at him, fluttering his eyes. John winked, his hand stroking his cock, positioning it right at her cunt. He let out a sigh as he slowly pushed forward. She tightened around him, tense as she whimpered. John chuckled, giving her bottom a nice spank. Yelping out, she whined, “John!”

“You take it,” he said, nonchalantly, pushing deeper. “You take it like the dirty girl you are. Just like you wanted. Just how you begged.” The stretch made her cry out. John loved a little pain hearing the cries and yelps. But he didn’t want to scare the girl. And so he went easy, making sure her body was adjusted perfectly for him. She played into his games, trying to pull away. He leaned over her, pressing his body heavily over her’s. His hands rested on her shoulders, pulling her deeper with each thrust. 

His hips jolted and snapped against hers, his rhythm getting messier the better she felt. It was almost embarrassing for him how fast he felt his balls clenching. Arrogantly, he often teased about how he wasn’t the type to bust a nut so quickly. John’s fingers tightened, nearly bruising the sensitive flesh of her shoulders. Her hips twitched under his ragged, rough thrusts. Surprisingly finding herself trying to move her ass back to meet them. Each time they met, a long, but sweet moan would slip her lips. 

He didn’t want to cum, yet. There was still so much to do to make her squirm and whimper. He found himself, pausing between thrusts, grunting in her ear. “F-fuck,” he stuttered in the crook of her neck, peppering kisses. “Fuckin’ tight, fuckin’ beautiful.” John bit lightly at her neck, vibrating low moans. “And so easy, you fuckin’ submit so easy, you know know that?” His hips jerked, holding that edge the best he could. hand stayed tight over your mouth. It was unbearable. The pressure she felt in her core, and how fucking badly she wanted him to consume her.

She turned her head to nibble at his finger playfully. “Am I allowed to beg you now? To say please-”

“Shhhh,” he cooed, that hand slipping to a place that felt very much like home to both of them; tightly around her neck. She whimpered, begging, as he tilted her just enough so he could peck her trembling lips. And when she tried to take it upon herself to move her hips back and take control, he pressed harder, keeping her still. Whispering against her lips, he told her, “behave, hm?” His lips teased at hers, landing soft pecks before dragging his teeth against her jawline.  

He started up slow again, allowing them both to build up to that edge. Just for a moment, he wanted to enjoy the softness of her low, soft whimpers and whines. It allowed him to really feel the tightness and clenching of her cunt, and how it begged for him. He picked up the pace when the edge was too much, too high. Neither being able to comprehend words or thoughts, they soaked in the moaning. The sounds of their moans and bodies filling the air around them. Building up, all the sensations overwhelmed him. His thrusts jerked and got sloppy, and his breaths got ragged. It was right there. He chuckled as her hand reached back, trying to push  at him.

The thought of him finishing in her, filling her, and potentially leaving her with something, made her body tense. “John, don’t-”

“Don’t what, hm?” he teased, kissing at her temple. “Finish in you?” He was going to. He had to, no, he yearned for it. Filling her up that it dripped beautifully out. She tried to beg, her hands pathetically flaying. One handedly, he reached up and held her hands down. “Speak up!”

“John!” she cried, feeling suffocated by the weight of him.

He jerked harder and faster, laughing. Feeling far too consumed by his own pleasures. “Can’t fuckin’ hear you!” Every time she’d attempt to say an ounce of protest, he’d laugh. Each was met with a counter argument: too good, don’t want to stop, ooh I can’t stop. 

I can’t stop.

Can’t stop.

Can’t fuckin’ stop. 

So you just have to take it. 

In the midst of his words, he reminded her of their little special word because otherwise, he really wasn’t going to stop. At that point he was unsure if he could, truly, stop. Too close to the finish line, the pleasure burdening any ounce of common sense and rationality. “Take it!” he grunted, biting hard at her ear, his grasp on her neck getting harder. ”Good girl! Fuckin’ naughty girl for me!” When it finally overtook him, running through him like a shock wave, the moan got stuck in his throat. His hot cum leaked in her core, deep and perfect. Catching up to his breath, he eased his tension and kissed her cheek. “Fuck.” She could have sworn she could feel his heartbeat against her back as he rested over her. 

Whimpering, she wiggled her hips to release herself. Her cunt throbbed from the overstimulation. 

“Stop!” he immediately said, jolting. Breathlessly, he begged, “stop, stop…too sensitive.” Keeping her in place, he relaxed over her, closing his eyes. Sweat dripped down his temples and his hair was no longer gelled in place. “We’ll take a bath together-”

“We’re not done?”

Smiling, he said, “if I can’t afford the aftercare, I can’t afford wrecking you.”

[andy-15-07]

Hey! I really like your Aaron Taylor-Johnson story. Maybe, if you have some time, would you write an Aaron × reader in which he has an accident on set and they bring him to a hospital. Reader is his girlfriend and visits him in the? Tysm

In Sickness and in Health

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count:629 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when Y/N’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She glanced at it, expecting a message from Aaron saying he’d be home late from set. Instead, the screen displayed an unfamiliar number. Frowning, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” The voice on the other end was strained, hurried. “This is Mark, the assistant director on Aaron’s film. There’s been an accident on set.”

Her heart dropped. “What? What kind of accident?”

“Aaron took a fall during a stunt. He’s conscious, but we’re taking him to St. Mary’s Hospital. You should come right away.”

The world spun for a moment. She barely remembered grabbing her keys or how she navigated the traffic to the hospital. All she knew was that Aaron was hurt, and she needed to be by his side.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital lobby felt harsh against her eyes as she rushed to the front desk.

“I’m here for Aaron Taylor-Johnson. He was brought in from a film set accident.”

The nurse nodded, her expression softening. “He’s in the ER. Second floor, Room 214. Take the elevators down the hall.”

Y/N mumbled a quick thank you and practically sprinted to the elevators, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. When the doors opened on the second floor, she saw Mark pacing in the hallway.

“Mark!” she called out.

He turned, relief washing over his face. “Y/N, thank God you’re here.”

“Where is he? How is he?”

“He’s stable. The doctors are checking for any internal injuries, but he’s awake and asking for you.”

Without another word, she pushed past him, her feet carrying her to Room 214. She hesitated for just a moment at the door before pushing it open.

Aaron was lying in the hospital bed, his head bandaged, a bruise blossoming along his jaw. But his eyes—those beautiful, familiar eyes—lit up when they met hers.

“Hey, love,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but warm.

She rushed to his side, her hands trembling as she cupped his face gently. “Aaron, what happened?”

“Stupid stunt went wrong,” he murmured, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “Didn’t tuck and roll like I should have. Landed hard.”

“God, Aaron, you scared me.” Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, covering her hand with his. “I’m okay now that you’re here.”

A nurse entered the room, checking his vitals and giving Y/N a sympathetic smile. “We’re going to keep him overnight for observation, but he’s a tough one. Should be back on his feet in no time.”

When the nurse left, Y/N pulled a chair up to Aaron’s bedside, never letting go of his hand.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Aaron squeezed her hand gently. “Deal.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the beeping of the heart monitor the only sound in the room. Y/N stroked his hair gently, careful to avoid the bandage.

“You know,” Aaron said softly, breaking the silence, “this made me realize something.”

“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“How much I need you in my life. I don’t ever want to be without you.”

Her heart swelled, and she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, Taylor-Johnson.”

“Good,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

She stayed by his side all night, holding his hand, silently thanking the universe for keeping him safe. And as the first light of dawn filtered through the hospital blinds, she knew they’d face whatever came next together.

[dollfacefantasy]

Time to Kill

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: during a night out at a club, you bump into a bounty hunter who has some time to kill.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, heavy dub-con, p in v, fingering, degradation, size kink, public sex, biting, mentions of murder, violence, death, guns, crime, etc.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i will be back to RE after this i just wanted to try something new :) reblogs and comments mean the world <3 for @nexysworld and @kaitkatme cause they put me on jjk and i love them.

“Watch it, bounty hunter,” you scoff, eyes shooting a glare up at the guy who bumped into you and nearly knocked you down.

He returns your sneer with his own, staring down at you with condescending irritation. The fact that he towers over you is almost enough to make you regret the jab, but you bank on being in a crowded nightclub to keep you safe.

His hair hangs down into his eyes, making it harder to see his expression in the already dark hall. Regardless, you feel his gaze raking over your curves before fixating on your face.

“Maybe you should watch it, princess,” he responds. Even his voice sounded skeevy. 

The unaffected smirk on his face doesn’t elude you either despite the dim lighting. You roll your eyes and snake past him, brushing the confrontation off in hopes of still enjoying your night. Your first move is going back to the bar and downing a few more drinks. Then you make your way back to the main area to dance.

Your hips sway to the blaring music while the lights overhead bathe your skin in a red tint. The music pounds in the ground beneath you, up through your legs and into your heart. You let your head fall back and get lost in the sound of the drums. Everyone around you seems to be doing the same, bobbing to the rhythm. A sea of strangers moving together.

But as all that happens in your vicinity, you can still feel a set of eyes on you. You sense that same gaze from the hall, watching you as if you were prey ready to be pounced on. Acting as if you’re still moving purely to the song, you twist your head to the side and look around. As you expect, you catch his focus and with him in a brief stare.

You keep moving though, trying to ignore it. Maybe he was still pissy. Maybe he was bored. Either way, it really wasn’t any of your concern. He was none of your business beyond the altercation in the hall. And in your defense, you didn’t even actually know that he was a bounty hunter. You’d only heard rumors about him, the guy with the scar on his lip. He just had that look about him.

It didn’t really matter. The liquor was starting to get to your head. You felt less stable on your feet as you moved your body in between the others making up the crowd. Everything was bright and loud, the seams on your top were scratchy, and your head was swimming.

You begin pushing through people, stumbling towards the bathroom as you need a reprieve from all the action. Your attention is on not tripping or breaking your ankle in the tall shoes you wore, so you don’t notice his figure slithering through the room alongside you.

You walk down that same hallway you’d run into him the first time. Teetering back and forth, you push open the bathroom door. Two stalls stand opposite from the door with a mirror and a set of sinks next to them. You shuffle in towards the countertops, both palms landing on the cool surface. There’s red neon lights in the bathroom too. You have to squint while staring at your reflection. 

As you glance over yourself, you realize your sleeve is slipping off your shoulder, and your skirt is a little twisted out of place. You adjust your outfit before leaning closer to the mirror for further inspection. You’re shimmery with a light sheen of sweat, but there’s nothing you can do about that right now. Instead you pull out your lipgloss and swipe it across your pout with a few lazy strokes.

You’re busy tending to your appearance when the door behind you flies open. Your eyes flit to the reflection of the man who walked in. It was that guy. He looked even larger in the confined space of the bathroom. The red lighting shines directly on him, highlighting how his arms bulge as they emerge from his shirt, the way the fabric sits tight on his defined torso. To be real, he was starting to grow on you. But that must have been the drinks talking.

“Wrong bathroom, dumbass,” you say with a roll of your eyes. The drinks were responsible for that line too, dulling the fear that would have overtaken your nerves earlier.

“The other bathroom doesn’t have you in it, does it?” he asks, slipping inside and letting the door shut behind him.

He’s still against the wall parallel to the mirror. You eye him curiously, not making any sudden moves. In sober circumstances, you would be absolutely terrified. Your heart would be pounding, vision blurry, and hands shaking with anxiety at the prospect of a strange guy cornering you in the bathroom. But right now, you just had a muted uncertainty in the pit of your stomach.

“What do you want with me?” you ask, attempting to seem unamused, “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“It’s cute that you think that’s even a possibility,” he responds.

A smirk rises on his face as he steps closer to you. You can nearly feel his body against your back. His face remains clearly visible in the mirror as he stands at least an entire head higher than you. It was obvious from the start, but at this proximity, it was impossible to escape how big he was. Chills erupt across your skin as his hands coast up your arms and rest on your shoulders.

“You weren’t far off the mark before anyways,” he says.

You try to shrug him off, but his hands stay firmly in place. His eyes are locked onto your body, his current target. You were getting a little more jittery, but it wasn’t totally out of fear. Your fingers fumble as you jam your lip gloss back into your clutch.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you reply.

Beyond the strange mixture of emotions inside you, this conversation begins to grow annoying. Remarks that brush past each other instead of making direct hits. And he’s still so fucking smug. It's grating. Apparently your displeasure is visible since he chuckles and runs his fingertips down your jawline.

“Aw, look at that face,” he mocks, fingers coming up to hold your jaw, “Good to know you’re cute while pouting too.”

“What do you want?” you ask with more anger. You try to pry his hand away from your chin, but his grip is tight. There’s no getting it off.

“Impatient,” he chides, though his eyes don’t hold any irritation, “I just thought I’d check on you. Isn’t really safe for a girl like you to wander off all alone. Someone may want to take advantage.”

You try to turn around to push him away, but his hips have yours pinned to the countertop.

“Lucky for you, I have some time to kill before my real work starts,” he says.

His other hand drifts up to your chest, digits lightly dragging over your right breast, slowly moving closer and closer to the center. You hate your body in that moment for the way your nipples instinctively stiffen up beneath your top. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to notice. Or at least he doesn’t point it out if he does.

“My nerves go crazy before a hit, y’know? I could use some stress relief,” he purrs in your ear, “Judging by how riled up you get, I think you could too.”

A shiver shoots up your spine while arousal simultaneously swirls between your legs. You glare at him through the reflection, but there’s no physical resistance this time. He was really growing on you now. He was pissing you off for sure, but it was starting to circle around to the point where you wanted to take out that rage in a more carnal manner. It doesn’t help when he continues speaking.

“The way you were dancing, I know you wanted someone to notice. Showing that tight ass off, just begging for some attention. Well, you have all of mine now,” he breathes, punctuating his statement with a light smack on your backside.

Heat creeps up your neck as he speaks. It was difficult to prevent yourself from being flustered in these circumstances, but you couldn’t just give in to this shithead. You had to still have some fight in you, right? Trying to keep your voice as firm as possible, you challenge him. “I don’t want it.”

With that simple statement, you jab your elbow back into his abdomen, allowing you to spin around. But that’s all you can do because he acts as if the move didn’t hurt him at all. His hand comes back to your jaw with a harsher grasp. Still despite the rough movements, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by your attempts at rejection.

“Too bad,” he states simply. He boosts you up onto the counter, using your neck as leverage. He slots himself between your legs to keep them spread and maintains eye contact the whole time. “Pretty little brat like you needs someone to show you your place.”

His hand delves between your thighs, pressing against your panties. He watches you closely as he strokes you over the fabric. You tense up a bit at first, a shaky breath exiting your lungs. It felt good obviously, but it was still weird. And on top of that, you couldn’t understand why he wasn’t just getting to the point and taking what he wanted.

He registers the confusion on your face and leans down closer to you. His breath fans across your neck. You can feel his lips brushing your ear.

“I’m not in a rush,” he says simply, “Got some time before my guy gets here. Rather play with you for a bit longer than wait around out there.”

He continues rubbing you through the cloth that separates your skin. He’s breathing heavier as he speeds up his movements, inhaling the scent of your perfume mixed with the liquor you’d both had. A breathy whine leaves you as his middle finger flicks over your clit. You hear him hum in approval before he lowers his head more and lays some sloppy kisses on your neck. He leaves some love bites, more to occupy himself than anything else. His teeth nip at the skin while his tongue laves over the mini bruises.

You’re starting to soak through your underwear. He knows it. He can feel it. The lacy fabric clings to your folds more, letting him feel more of you. A sharp puff of hot air comes from his nostrils, sending a chill over you as it hits the wet skin on your throat.

“You’ve been aching for this since your little tantrum, haven’t you? Probably could’ve fucked you right out there in front of everyone, and you wouldn’t have said a word. Except maybe ‘more,’” he says, his voice low and smooth with his own arousal.

“No,” you object out of instinct. Your words contradict the way your hips begin to buck against his fingers, itching for him to rip your panties off.

“Yes,” he chuckles, taking your hint and pulling the damp article of clothing down. 

His fingers slide through your wetness freely now. You sigh with some semblance of relief. Your head rests against the mirror, and you can only imagine the sinful image displayed in the glass right now. You spread open for this man who looms above you.

You shake your head lazily in response to him. Your already-intoxicated mind becomes less focused as the simmer of pleasure starts melting away the functioning parts of your brain.

“Yeah. Just tell me this. Do you do this often, or is it something special about me?” he mocks.

Your response is cut short as he slips two fingers inside you. You gasp at the stretch. You’re pretty sure you’ve had dick before that was the same size as this guy's warm-up. You spread your trembling legs wider for him as your teeth briefly sink into your bottom lip.

“Just shut up,” you whimper, eyes flutter closed as he massages your walls.

“If I had to bet, I’d say this is the first time. You’re all shaky for me,” he teases and gently laps at your pulse point, “And I can feel your heart ready to beat out of your chest.”

He was right about that. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, thumping through all of your body. Your cheeks burn as he continues pumping in and out of your cunt. You tighten up around him, eyes fluttering at the sensation between your legs. Your slick gathers on his fingers and drips down to the marble under you.

“It’s cute really, knowing you’re not always such a slut,” he goes on.

You whine, loud enough that it echoes around the bathroom. His fingers curl within you, leading you towards the edge. One of your hands is flat on the counter, keeping you up right. The other is clasped around his wrist, your nails forming little red crescents on the skin. They dig in harsher as he keeps speaking.

“Like you better when you’re quiet,” you say between mewls and moans.

“I’d say the same for you if you weren’t making all those cute noises,” he says and starts thrusting his fingers in harder, “Got an innocent little thing like you moaning like a pornstar for me.”

Your head spins as the noise of his fingers inside your pussy starts to fill the bathroom. Your ear rests on your shoulder as you slump to the side in your drunken, lust-fueled haze. He just keeps on with his motions, working you right to the brink. Only when you’re writhing and whining like you’re about to lose it, does he stop and pull his digits out of you completely.

A noise of shock and frustration leaves you as your eyes narrow. He cracks a smile, highlighting that scar on his lip. He then tugs you off the counter by your hips. You nearly topple over, but he stabilizes you and walks you to the wall with the door, perpendicular to the mirror. He shoves you against the hard surface, engulfing your body with his own.

He’s breathing against the side of your head, rutting his hips into yours and letting you feel his hardened bulge. You could already tell it was big. One set of fingers holds your head against the wall while the other maintains a bruising grip on your waist.

“Acting pretty fuckin’ needy for someone who didn’t want it,” he grunts.

You catch your own eyes in the mirror and the image before you only has you getting more turned on. He’s all over you, grinding his hips and teasing himself with your flesh. His cheeks are stained with a light pink tint from the combination of desire and exertion. He reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, pushing the inky black locks out of his eyes. That same hand then ventures South.

He pushes up your skirt over the swell of your ass, bunching it near the small of your back. After a second of admiration, he pulls his cock out. At your current angle, you don’t get a clear view, but from what you do see of how his fist is wrapped around it, you know your expectations are correct.

He taps it against your ass teasingly, and you feel the weight of it. It’s heavy and warm, leaking a bit from the swollen tip. He slides it down and slips it between your thighs. It rubs against your slick folds. You’re already mentally preparing yourself for the stretch, but you still push your hips back at him because you crave it.

“That’s right. You’re learning already. Smarter than you look,” he teases before nudging the tip inside you and inching deeper.

Your guttural moan echoes through the bathroom as you accommodate his size. You feel him pulsing against every part of your insides. You sink further against the tiles on the wall. The bright gleam on them from the red neon lights fades as your eyes droop with lust. You try to say something, but you can’t get any words out.

And cocky as he is, he’s not faring much better. He groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck. His ragged breaths hit your skin that’s shining with more sweat. He watches your arms stretch out more against the wall, and his trail behind. His fingers chase yours and intertwine, flattening you against the surface.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he mumbles against your skin.

When he bottoms out in you, you’re sure you feel him in your stomach, deeper than anyone before had made it. He takes a second to take in before starting to thrust. His skin smacks against yours in a slow rhythm at first. Your eyes roll back at the motions, and your cunt clamps down on him, trying to keep him all the way in, to keep yourself nice and full. He growls as he feels it and sinks his teeth into the flesh of your throat. He bites, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to create an ache, a complement to the satisfaction you felt in your belly.

You yelp at the sudden feeling. It hurt, but you wanted more. It wasn’t good enough right now, too dull. You wanted it to hurt, to feel as prominent as everything else going on felt. The music in the main part of the club still raged on, vibrating throughout the entire building, including the wall you were trapped against. The bass thrummed against your cheek and made your head fog up even faster.

He hums with pleasure at your responses, enjoying the way you slowly unraveled for him. He bites a bit harder before loosening up completely. The marks now forming on your skin drive him wild. He knows they’ll last for days. You’ll feel ‘em in the shower, while you’re getting dressed, when you’re shifting around in bed at night. They’ll last much longer after he pulls out and both of you have left this sketchy bathroom.

Once he’s away from your neck, his eyes lock in on yours, but they’re not making contact. He’s enraptured by the way your gaze remains on the mirror to the side of you. He stares down at you, as if studying your thoughts just from the look in your eyes.

“You got a thing for watching, little brat? You like watching yourself get used?” he pants, “I know I like it.”

That snaps you out of your daze. You glance back at him with something akin to shyness behind your eyes. He’d describe it as cute if the two of you weren’t in a situation that was anything but at the moment.

“It’s alright, keep watching. Watch me fill this tight pussy better than anyone else ever could,” he grunts.

All you can do to reply is whine and whimper, squirming against the wall. And he laughs at you.

“Yeah?” he mocks, “That all you have to say?”

He hooks his index finger in your mouth and pulls at your cheek, shifting your face to a more erotic expression. Any words you got out now would be garbled for sure. His hips continue clapping against your ass, jolting you forward with each stroke. Drool drips down your chin from how your mouth is pulled open. You don’t bother with trying to speak anymore. You just give in to how good he’s fucking you.

“Pretty baby. Such a slut for me,” he murmurs. 

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. It’s one of the most intense stares you’ve ever felt, like he’s reaching into your soul, rooting part of himself there. He’s gonna be with you long after this ends and you know it. You moan for him, letting all your sounds of euphoria flood the bathroom. He grins and pistons himself into you harder.

“Driving me crazy, dollface. Look at you, all fucked out, whining cause you don’t even know what to say. Don’t even know my fuckin’ name,” he says.

That really gets you cause he’s right, and you know it. And it should make you feel icky. Should make you want to recoil in disgust. But it does the opposite. You feel like your bodies are melting together, becoming one in your haze of passion.

You turn your head to face the other way, not wanting to confront the insatiable desire you felt. He moves in closer and keeps you pinned against that wall. He’s fucking you just how you like, and you don’t think you’re gonna last much longer. He’s not sure he will either with the way you’re pulsing around him.

“Harder,” you whimper, wanting to actually make it to the peak this time, “Want you deeper.”

“Knew you’d be begging for it,” he says. He gives you what you want though, pumping harder and driving himself even deeper. “You don’t need to know my name. All you care about is that I’m giving this pussy what she needs.”

You’re both climbing to the high point, caught up in your lust for each other. You almost don’t notice the door starting to open, a sliver of the world breaking the small bubble the two of you had made together.

All you see is a pair of eyes widening. They probably freeze with shock when they register your face squished against the tile, your wanton moans drifting through the small opening to their ears. They don’t get to see any more than that though because the bounty hunter’s large palm lands on the door and shoves it closed.

Your own eyes widen and watch how his bicep flexes. He holds it shut, and you’re pretty sure it’d stay that way even if the person tried to open it for another look.

“Not gonna let anyone interrupt before I get the chance to spill every last drop of my cum inside this cunt,” he mutters.

He’s going as hard as he can now. At least that’s what you choose to believe because you’re certain if he used any more force you’d pass out. His cock rams into all your sweet spots like entering a cheat code to get you to cum.

You claw at the wall pointlessly, there’s nothing to grab onto. But you hit the high nonetheless, cumming all over his cock. You gush around him with your release. It feels like your body goes limp, but he holds you up with no effort. He keeps you up and safely impaled on his dick, using you like a toy as he works himself up to the high.

He cums with a loud groan and makes good on his word to spill inside you. You’d have to get a pill tomorrow. He fucks it deep inside you, holding still for a moment as if to make sure he got it all in you. Only then does he finally slide out. He watches the sticky white liquid ooze out of you. It’s starting to drip down your inner thigh when he tugs your skirt back into place.

Your legs wobble beneath you as he lets you go. He steps away, turning around to put his cock away and fix his appearance slightly. You slump down against the wall, reduced to a curled up heap on the dirty floor of the bathroom, looking up at him like he’s a higher power.

You try to catch your breath, but your body feels like it’s tumbling down a mountain as you come down. Your glossy eyes watch him walk to the counter and fish your phone out of your clutch you’d left there. He checks the time before glancing at himself in the mirror. He then turns to you.

Crouching down to your level, he reaches out and strokes your cheek. He pushes some of your hair out of your face to meet your eyes.

“Probably best if you stay in here for a while. Don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire. I might wanna do this again sometime,” he tells you.

With that, he rises to his feet again and exits the bathroom as quickly as he’d entered. You’re still grappling with the events that took place. You barely even register the shots and the screaming coming from the main area of the club.

About fifteen minutes later, you manage to get to your feet. You pull your panties up again and fix yourself up as best you can. Then you leave the bathroom. The music is still blaring, but it feels quiet. There’s no one else inside; spare the dead body on the stairs leading up to the private rooms.

Bright sirens wail outside and lights begin painting your skin as you walk to the glass doors labeled ‘exit.’ Your shoes trudge through some blood on the floor and crunch on shards of broken glass. You step outside, dodging people’s questions about your wellbeing and avoiding other groups of people crying their eyes out. All of it feels surreal. None of it really has your focus. 

All you’re thinking about is how you could see him again.

[fridgemissionmaster]

Diavolo x Reader: March Prompt/Day 24 Flower Crown

Prompt list/available prompt requests here, making a fic everyday of march

Another day, another ball, another party to throw to keep the more powerful demons entertained so Diavolo can work on what he believes he should and not that they think he should. Though he was used to it that didn’t make it any less exhausting, he’d gladly do it for the rest of his life if he had to though. Barbatos was a great help but there were some details he still had to take care of himself.

The brothers didn’t come to every party, but when they did it always made the event much more lively, even more so if you were around.

Everything was ready it was just a matter of waiting.

There was always a quiet he was not used too before these gallas. The rarer moments where he didn’t a have a thing to do. Technically he was to be getting ready, yet he was a prince, all that was required of him was to be in his more demonic form, and even then on it’s own it was imposing enough, no gussying up required.

Not a thing to do.

He enjoyed strolling the gardens. There was so much variety, he could never grow bored. The plants were also much more interesting than the stone walls and floors of the castle.

… You would be joining in the festivities this time.

You are the highlight of any event, no matter what it’s for. Even outside of you being you, you also happen to be human, you have no other forms, always your most bare authentic self. He could never truly know how you’d look unless it was the rarer occasions where he got to help you choose.

Like last time.

… He had to admit, his feelings for you were rather complicated. After all, you got everything he wanted AND were all he wanted, a family, someone who loved him willingly on their own without him forcing his hand. It’s more… stable to make a deal and know the other party would never break it, yet there was something so romantic, so alluring about someone just giving themselves to you. To be accepted, to be wanted, not needed a stable cage he made for himself. Sure he had come to be cared for now, but all those relationship started with an agreement. Some worked out like Barbatos, others…what was he expecting really, to become the brother of fallen angels?

But then there was you who in the matter of, what? A month? Not even that and you got the place he longed for.

Then you started going to him, indulging him in his mischief going out of your way to find him without his prompting. It was… so new. Every last interaction had to be planned out down to the last moment and then there was you who returned his energy in kind and forced your way in just as he had for others.

And now the little prince dreams of whisking you away and to keep you all for himself, away from others, even to be hidden away from the ones he wished to call brothers. Just the two of you in your own little world.

Something else he had complicated feelings on. He loved his people and home more than anything else. He’d do anything for them, but that got in the way of any other wants. Like spending time with you.

However, ultimately, Diavolo was an exceedingly selfish person so he’d as himself, why couldn’t he have it all?

He found himself strolling along that vast greenery, the most gorgeous view of the Devildom beside him, letting his mind wander as he picked at some flowers to keep for his own. It was difficult for him to truly do nothing, especially when he believed something needed to be done, to be rectified.

…

“Barbatos?”

“Yes?”

“Would you deliver this to MC and ask them to wear this to the ball?”

The butler tenderly held the gift before bowing and taking his leave.

He knew it was rather last minuet, and he didn’t actually know if it’d match anything you were wearing but maybe it’d be the final thing that felt missing last time. Or maybe he just wanted to indulge in knowing he had some sway over how others perceive you.

Although, perhaps, this was a terrible idea, because now he could not wait for the party to start already, finding himself pacing around.

Then you arrived.

A crown really suited you didn’t it, even if made of flowers and not precious metals.

Who was to say he couldn’t have it all anyway?

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Ordinary Chapter 1, Outside the lines

Masterlist Word count: 3k Zayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: After seeing his best friend getting married to the love of her life, Zayne can't help but be a little jealous. He never had this feeling before. It's almost like he's longing for someone to love. At the wedding, she introduces him to a colleague who instantly forces him out of his comfort zone. Could this be love?

"I can't, sorry. I've got work." 

Zayne had hoped you would've given up with that text. After he got home, the alien feeling he felt during the wedding disappeared only to be replaced by his usual loneliness. Only, it felt worse. So much worse. As if the warmth he had felt in your presence had become his new normal, only to feel cold when he got home. 

He doesn't like it. He doesn't want it. All he wants is to continue in life as he had before. No weird feelings, no strange moments, no chaos. Just normalcy and structure. That's all he needs. All he wants.  

But you didn't give up. 

"When are you available? Or maybe we could get some lunch during your break?" 

He wants to be optimistic, he really does, but this is how it always starts. At first, his partners take what they can get - coffee date, a late dinner together, a lazy morning before he gets called in again - but eventually they all tire of his hectic work schedule. 

However, he'll never hear the end of it if he doesn’t go out with you at least once. 

"We can do lunch on Wednesday. I usually have a break at 12:30 until 13:00 if nothing happens." 

"Would you prefer to stay in the hospital for your break or go out?" 

That throws him off a little bit. Usually, the women he dates assume he'll take them out even if he has little time and can't even be sure if he has a break. When he doesn't respond for a few minutes, another message comes in from you. 

"How about I make us something delicious and we can decide if we want to go out when you're ready?" 

"Agreed." 

"Akso hospital, right? Should I tell someone when I'm there, or just text you and sit in the waiting room?" 

"Text me." 

"Alrighty, any allergies I should know about?" 

Zayne suddenly notices his cheeks hurt a little. He's smiling. He's been smiling a while from the strain he feels in his cheeks. It almost makes him angry. How dare you make him smile like this after barely having one conversation? How dare you shake his normalcy up for the chaos you bring? How dare you make his heart stir? This isn't what he signed up for. 

"I am not the greatest fan of carrots. Everything else is fine." 

"I'll keep that in mind! See you Wednesday!" 

His words, all his texts, were quite cold and calculated. Only communicating what was needed and yet your words almost jumped out of his screen. He could see you say those things with that sunny smile of yours. This whole thing seems unfair somehow. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Wednesday. It must be around lunchtime as Zayne feels hunger building. His eyes flick to the clock on the operating room wall. 1:15. He's been in surgery for hours, and the procedure is taking longer than expected. The patient, a young man with a complex abdominal injury, is stable, but the delicate nature of the procedure has been a pain. Zayne wasn't even supposed to scrub in, but one of his colleagues got stuck in traffic and this couldn't wait. 

When the surgery finally concludes, Zayne steps back and takes a deep breath, his body heavy with exhaustion but his mind still laser-focused. It's as if there's a glass box around him and everything that's happening around him is slightly muted. He glances at the clock again. 1:30. His stomach drops. He was supposed to meet you at 12:30. 

He pulls out his phone, expecting a strong of annoyed texts or, worse, radio silence. Instead, there's just one message from you, sent at 12:19. 

"I'm here!" 

He stares at the message, a strange warmth spreading through his chest. It's just a few words but he can feel the excitement behind them and the fact that there are no other messages means you're still there. You're waiting for him. Right? 

After taking off his scrubs and putting his white coat on again, he takes a moment to collect himself on the bench of the staff dressing room. The intensity of the surgery is still on his mind and he's having a harder time than usual getting himself out of it. Deep breathing doesn't work, splashing water in his face didn't work, affirmations didn't work. Finally, when he feels a little more grounded, he decides that he's made you wait long enough. 

Besides, his stomach is rumbling like crazy. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

It's been a while since you sat down, more than an hour you figure, but you don't really mind. As you always do, you brought your sketchpad. When you started doodling, a little girl, no older than seven, sat down next to you asking how you were doing that. No more than five minutes later, the two of you were sharing the pad to draw flowers together. Her mother seemed thankful for the break, having a newborn on her arm. 

'Why are you here? You don't seem sick,' the little girl asks curiously as you hand her the pink pencil she asked for. Your tote is loaded with art supplies wherever you go. You never know when inspiration strikes.  

'I'm not sick,' you tell her, 'But I am going to have lunch with a friend. He's a doctor.' You raise your voice excitedly in the second part of your sentence. She giggles. 

'Why are you friends with a doctor? They're boring,' she states through her giggles. You see her mother roll her eyes behind her. She wants to say something, you can tell, but you nod to her to make sure she knows it's alright. 

'Are you good at keeping secrets?' The girl nods vigorously with a proud look on her face but her mother shakes her head behind her. A chuckle escapes you. 'Okay, listen up. The doctor I'm going to have lunch with, I like him a lot but he doesn't know yet. This is our first date.' 

The girl gasps, her mouth wide open, big eyes staring at you excitedly, 'oh you have to tell him!' You pretend to be thinking very deeply about it, putting your finger on your chin to act it out even more. 

'Hmmm, I'm not sure yet. I don't know if he likes me.' 

'I like you,' the girl squeals, 'so he must like you too!' 

'Maybe I tell him next time. This is the first time we're going on a date.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Zayne's breath catches when he spots you in the waiting room. There you are, sitting cross-legged on one of the uncomfortable chairs, a sketchpad balanced on your thigh, pencil in hand while you talk to the little girl sitting next to you. You're wearing simple linen pants and a black cropped t-shirt, your hair pulled up. You look like a ray of sunshine in the sterile, clinical environment. 

The way you're interreacting with the girl next to you is so patient, so gentle. You seem to have told her something outrageous with the way the girl is giggling. Your voice is warm and gentle as you encourage the girl to continue drawing. She copies with careful concentration. 

He can't help but watch for a moment as something tightens in his chest. He's not quite sure what it is – admiration perhaps, or something else he can't quite name yet. However, he can't stay stuck on it too long. He is already over an hour late and he's sure you've got other places to be as well. 

'Hey,' he says softly as he comes closer. You look up, your face lighting up with a smile as your eyes meet his. 

'Hey, you made it!' You turn to the girl sitting next to you. 'This is my friend, Zayne. What do you think? Should we show him our masterpiece?' Friend, ouch. But the little girl is giggling at your words, almost as if she knows more than he does. Did you tell her something? 

The girl holds up the sketchpad to show Zayne. It's a page with wobbly but enthusiastic flowers between carefully drawn masterpieces. Clear to see who drew what, but he can tell that you've been teaching her certain ways to make the flowers look better. 

'These are amazing,' Zayne says with the faintest smile, crouching down to her level. 'You're quite the artist.' 

The girl beams with pride. You tear off the page she worked on and give it to her. She scampers off to show her mother who gives you a thankful smile. You nod at her and stand up, brushing off your pants. Zayne grabs the woven basket from the floor while you quickly load your supplies back into your tote. 

'Sorry about that,' you grin, 'she looked bored.' 

'No need to apologize. I'm the one who's late,' Zayne says, his voice softer than intended. You shrug it off. 

'Doesn't matter. You're here now,' you say casually, 'so, did you want to stay in or go outside? Because I saw this pond in the garden...' 

Zayne hesitates. The garden is a beautiful peaceful spot, but with the rush of the day it might be better to stay inside. However, the thought of sitting there with you, surrounded by lush greenery and the gentle sound of the pond... it feels right. 

'Let's go to the garden,' he says, surprising himself. He quickly tries to rationalize it, 'I've been inside too long. It's good to go outside every once in a while' 

'Whatever you say doctor.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The hospital garden is a hidden gem, a small oasis of calm tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the building. The pond glistens in the sunlight and the grass is soft and lush. To Zayne's surprise, you prepared for this. You spread out the ugliest, yet charming, blanket he's ever seen and start unpacking the basket with the efficiency of someone who has done this many, many times before. 

'Okay, so I made a pasta salad because I figured you could use some carbs to keep you going,' you start explaining, 'It's got olives, anchovies, some olive oil as dressing. Then there's also some normal salad to get your greens in. And for dessert...' You hold up another container with a proud smile. 'Lemon cake.' 

Zayne's eyes almost seem heart shaped as he looks at the container. You notice right away and put the container down with a chuckle. 'Does the doctor have a sweet tooth,' you ask with a teasing tone. 

Zayne clears his throat, trying to collect his composure again. 'Maybe.' 

You grin, delighted at this new knowledge. 'Good. I'll keep that in mind for next time.' Zayne almost feels his cheeks flush at the thought that there could be a next time. He had his guard up so high and you've broken it down minutes into a first date. This is not good. He should calm down a little. You hand him a plate, pulling him out of his head. 'Dig in.' 

Zayne takes a cautious bite of the pasta salad, but is pleasantly surprised by how good it is. The flavors are bright and balanced, a welcome change from the tasteless hospital food he's used to. 'This is amazing,' he says, his voice sincere. 

'Glad you like it.' Zayne nods, taking another bite. He wants to talk to you, wants to ask about you, keep the conversation going, but his mind feels sluggish, still caught in the aftermath of the surgery. It seems the comforting bubble you created around the two of you made his exterior crack. Now he feels even more tired, because he doesn't feel like he has to hide it. He can just be tired. 

You watch him for a moment, seeming deep in thought. Something tells you he's tired, even though he hasn't said anything. His whole body seems to be slowing down. 'How has your day been so far,' you ask gently. 

Zayne hesitates, stuck between wanting to talk and not wanting to waste too much energy while still having half a shift left, then he shrugs. 'Busy. I had to scrub in for a surgery that ran longer than expected. It was a lot.' 

You nod, your expression softening as you watch him eat. 'I can imagine. You look like you've been through the wringer.' 

He glances up at you, surprised that you could tell. He thought he was hiding it pretty well. 'Is it that obvious?' 

You smile, but he sees no judgment in your face. Nothing that would tell him you despise him for not giving you his full attention. Instead, you look the tiniest bit worried. 'A little, but it's okay. We don't have to talk if you're not up for it. I'm happy to spend time with you either way.' 

Zayne feels a flicker of guilt. 'I'm sorry. I can imagine this isn't exactly... fun for you.' 

You shake your head, smile widening. 'Don't apologize. It's fine. I'm just glad I'm forcing you to have lunch, but I've got an even better idea if you're done.' 

Zayne studies you for a second, trying to figure out if you're just being polite, if you're never going to text him again, if you're going to leave and move to a different city. Instead, you seem completely at ease, chomping on your food happily. 'What's your idea?' 

'A nap.' You check your watch. 'If you have a half hour lunch break, we've only used a little over ten minutes. Could do you good to have a little sleep. Or just rest your eyes.' It sounds very appealing. Zayne's mind still feels slightly scattered from being in that sterile room for so long. Normally, he's fine after that but it seems the thought of meeting you cost him more energy than he bargained for. Resting his eyes sounds nice. 

'And how would we go about that?' His tone is a bit timid, scared to be so vulnerable so early on. But is it truly vulnerability? You're offering a nap to him. It's just a yes or no question. 

'You lay your head on my lap and I make sure you wake up on time.' Zayne feels his cheeks flush at your casual answer, but his body moves without his mind. You guide his head into your lap as he lays down on his back. 'I brought a book, would you like me to read to you?' 

'That'd be nice.' 

'Alright,' you smile and rummage through your tote bag, pulling out a little book, 'it's The Owl Service by Alan Garner.' 

Zayne listens with his eyes closed. One of your hands is in his hair, leaving every once in a while to turn a page. Your voice is melodic and expressive as you tell a story you seem to know very well. The bubble of comfort that was created when you sat down is suddenly very small. Seems the whole world is gone. The birds in the garden are but a background score for your story. Zayne's mind flickers in and out of consciousness, his mind wandering with the story. The story seems to be a children's story, but there's much more behind it. Either way, he doesn't have to stay fully awake to follow. 

A gentle tap to his forehead pulls him out of his dream world. His eyes flutter open and meets your eyes, shining like melting snow in the sun. You smile. 'Your break is almost over.' He nods and starts to stretch a little. Suddenly, he realizes he is holding something to his chest. Looking down, he sees a familiar hand with paint stains. He is holding your hand. 

'I'm sorry,' he stammers as he lets go and quickly gets up, regretting it right away. It's not good to sit up so fast after laying down for a while. If only he would follow his own advice. 

'It's fine. You were sleeping,' you smile kindly, 'however, if you do want to make it up to me, you can come over to my studio?' 

Zayne blinks, caught off guard. 'Your studio?' 

'Yeah,' you respond with sparkling eyes. 'I've seen your place of work, I'd love to show you around my place of work.' 

Zayne hesitates, a whirlwind of unfamiliar feelings rushing through his chest, but then nods. 'I'd like that.' 

Your smile lights up your whole face. 'Great! Text me when you're available.' 

As you start packing up, you expected him to go back inside, back to his job, but he helps you. He gathers the empty containers and closes them neatly so nothing left in them will spill in your basket, he takes the paper cups you brought and walks over to the trashcan near the footpath returning right after. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face. He even helps you fold the blanket. It all goes so naturally, it makes your heart swell. 

As he leans down to grab the basket, an idea blooms in your head. 'Thank you,' you smile and press a kiss to his cheek. His face goes bright red as he stands up. Rushed, he hands you the basket. 

'No problem.' Then he disappears back into the building. The idea that bloomed in your head, the warmth that spread from your lips, the tingling feeling in your stomach. It's a wonderful experience. Nothing quite compares to falling in love. A giggle escapes you as you leisurely stroll through the garden, heading back home to put this feeling on canvas. 

Zayne, on his end, closes the door of his office behind him and tries to catch his breath. His mind feels fragmented, lost in wanting to fall in love again and not wanting his trust broken again. One thing is for sure, he doesn't want this to end. Terrifying as it may be, for the first time in a long time, he's willing to allow himself to feel. 

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[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

Bassie x reader please? She’s my favorite out of the Easter toons! :D

Bassie X Reader Headcanons!

She's also my favorite out of the Easter toons! I totally didn't expect her personality to be like this, she really needs a hug sobs. She's the last one I need next to Bobette and Astro!! Here you go, dear! Thank you for requesting! <3

I'm also taking this chance to say that you all can now request for the Easter toons!! Twisted or not! I think I have an okay grasp on them to write now (though I might make mistakes)!! The masterlist got some upgrade too, hehe.

-Anna

-Oh, how she loves spending time with you! She feels herself feeling calm and smiling more often when you are around. It really helps with her overthinking or when she is feeling tense and anxious for seemingly no reason. At first, Bassie will never make it known that she fears being replaced, she always avoids it and avoids bringing it up. Laughing a bit too much if something like that comes up or you want to spend time with her and not Cocoa for example.

-She doesn't hate Cocoa, but her fear makes her act cold to her, she doesn't want her help, she doesn't need it, she's independent enough! It makes her calm down when you come to her for help or to spend time with her, she might feel happy enough to laugh a bit too much. It kinda was rubbing you off the wrong way but at the end, maybe you figured out that's how she was, the feeling in your stomach never left though. Asking her if she was alright would just make her have this forced smile as she reassures you that she is perfect fine.

-Pressing flowers together with her makes her feel the calmest, she loves doing that with you and it's when you noticed that she's acting more calmer, happier. It gets you to think a lot but for now, you are just happy to spend time with her, you really do love her, after all! Even her words are more firm and stable as she talks to you, she has this calming and warm aura around her that you adore. It's also nice if Flyte joins you two! Everyone has a good time as they press on flowers and do all sorts of cool things with them! Bassie loves to collect the ones you did, it makes her feel warm inside, it helps with the anxiety.

-When you accept Cocoa's offer for help or just spend time with her, Bassie feels nervous but she totally understands. She knows she might not be as helpful as Cocoa, who has a lot of experience helping others and was so kind to ask everyone if they needed anything, because she could help them. When you come back to Bassie, you do notice the nervous expression on her face as she looks away. Trying to comfort her in any way would make her try to convince you that she is totally fine! Nothing wrong! She totally isn't stuttering trying to convince you otherwise, nope!

-Sometimes the fear becomes too much that she can't keep it together and she cries to you or even on you if you hold her close. She breaks down for a good while in silence, she feels pathetic and wishes that she could just be as good as Cocoa, she is afraid of getting replaced, on relying on others yet she was here, sobbing in your arms, she felt ashamed. When she recovers a bit is when she doesn't care anymore and tells you what she has been feeling all this time, she is afraid, she doesn't know what to do to be better and better and be actually worthy of the title "main" toon.

-You try your best to be here for her whenever she needs. Bassie wants to get better and stronger and you do your best to help her. She really appreciates it and also is happy for your advice that you give her, she wants to take it well and remember it desperately when she starts to struggle with her thoughts on things. She tries hard not to let her fears get the best of her but please give her some time, hold her well if she starts breaking down again. You really do see her try better and that to get over them and feel like a proper main toon without any of those difficulties.

-Affection gets her very shy, flustered or even tense but she quickly relaxes enough to lean against your side. You still remember the first time you ever held hands or even left a kiss somewhere on her face, you watched as she felt very flustered, her face red as she hid it with her hands, refusing to look at you for a good while. She is more comfortable now and doesn't shy away as much, even leaning against your gentle touch in this comforting silence. If you don't mind, you can talk and she will quietly listen to your every word as those scary thoughts go away.

-Bassie really likes all the gifts you give her and she keeps them safe somewhere, making sure nothing would ever harm them. She tries making you gifts as well, they are more flower related things but she can also try her best to make them related to your interests! She feels warm and smiles if you enjoy them and thank her, she feels like she did a good job. She just hopes you like the other future gifts she will make for you.

-She really loves it when you two sit on the grass on the Easter map, just enjoying the view or even watching the others run around and many more, hunting eggs or just relaxing like the two of you. You two can also try an egg hunt together! Either alone or together as you explore around, will you two best Eggson? Only one way to find out! She loves doing things together with you and having fun like this makes her feel nice. Even just sitting close to you in the grass as you count the eggs you found makes her smile.

-She really hopes that you also don't replace her for another lover, it's something she fears even more than being replaced as a main toon. You mean so much to her and you are the one that helps her feel slowly more confident and that about herself. Bassie truly does appreciate you a lot and she loves you so much, she hopes you can see that even if she can be quite a mess. You help ground her and she wants to do her absolute best for you and for her to keep the main title. You make her feel happy and she wouldn't know what to do without you in her life, she hopes you see the day where she is strong enough to only stand up by herself.

Thank you for requesting! <3