#So is she BACK back? Or part time back? Is she going to commute between San Fran and New York?

[lowkeyerror]

Instant Attraction

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Notes: Stepmom!Wanda, pining, masturbation, kissing, thigh riding, cheating, mommy kink, lmk if there's anything else,

Summary: Your dad calls you home from college unable to afford for you to dorm. He doesn’t let you know that in the time you were gone, he had gotten married. When you meet his wife Wanda, you're instantly attracted to her. That attraction doesn't seem so one sided.

An: Could be persuaded to write another part... after I finish my request

Masterlist

You grew up in a single-parent household. Your dad spent most of his time at work, trying to provide you a better life. You could never hate him for that. Your mother, she decided that motherhood wasn’t for her when you were around 5. She left one night and never came back.

You weren’t a very social kid. You had a few friends, but no real affinity for going out. There was a preference on your side of things to stay in, watch movies, and play games. Even when you grew your interest stay the same.

There were times were your father nearly forced you out of the house, just so he could see the sun touch your skin.

You weren’t the smartest kid, but you weren’t an idiot either. You took your average grades and went to community college securing yourself a general AA before you decided to transfer to a Cal State University. Though your father originally paid for you to dorm, he mentioned that it was a bit expensive.

So next semester you’d be commuting between home and school. Honestly, you’d only dormed because your father had pushed for it in the first place. He’d thought it’d be a good opportunity for you to branch out.

Your roommate, Kate was pretty cool, but in actuality she was a bit of a loser just like you were.

“Back so soon Y/n L/n?”

The thick accent made a smile tug at the ends of your lips, “What can I say, I missed the scariest neighbor on the block. Who’s going to tarnish your hardcore image if it’s not me, Lena?”

You and Yelena had grown up together, she’d been your neighbor for as long as you could remember. One of the few people that you’d let into your social circle.

“I’m back to stay. My dad told me dorming was too expensive, so I get to come back home.”

Yelena laughs lightly, “I bet it’s out of his range now since he’s caring for a woman and her children .”

You look at her dumbfounded. Slowly the laughter stops and the smile disappears from her face.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you not know?”

Her eyes are wide as she stares at you.

“Know what Yelena?”

She begins to sputter, “Holy shit, what kind of father doesn’t tell his daughter this things?”

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a little, “What kind of things, Yelena? Would you just tell me?”

“Y/n… you’re father. Sometime near the beginning of your semester, he got married.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head, “He did what?!”

“Her name is Wanda, she’s got 2 sons, twins.”

You open and close your mouth a few times. Laughter builds from inside of you and before you know it, it’s spilling out, “Good one Lena, you almost had me there. My father, married. Jesus Christ, this is why I don’t have too many friends.”

“Y/n, I’m serious.”

“Sure you are, now help me take some of this in the house, since you’re here,” you grab a bag from your trunk, shoving it into the blonde’s hands.

You don’t fumble around looking for your keys, instead opting to ring the doorbell. You told your dad you were coming this weekend, and he said he’d be home to let you in.

“Y/n, I’m really not lying about the marriage,” Yelena nudges you as you wait for the door to open.

You roll your eyes, “Even if I did believe you, what poor woman would marry my father?”

You ring the doorbell again, becoming impatient with waiting.

“Red head, green eyes, mother of 2 kids but you can’t tell from her body. She honestly a really attractive woman, don’t know how he did it,” Yelena goes into the details.

You laugh a little more, “This hypothetical woman sounds like my type. Maybe I could steal her from him.”

Yelena joins in on the laughter, “Not with your inability to speak to women.”

You glare at her, “Not funny.”

Finally the door opens, except it’s not your dad. It’s a woman with red hair, green eyes, a body that definitely doesn’t look like she had two kids. You can’t help but gawk at her.

“You must be Y/n, I’m Wanda. Your father told me to welcome you in, he’s working, but he’ll be back soon.”

“Hi, Mrs. Maximoff,” Yelena spoke with a smirk on her face.

“Yelena, it’s good to see you again. Helping Y/n with her bags?”

Yelena nods, “She needs all the help she can get.”

You shove the blonde while maintaining your gaze on the redhead, “You married my dad?”

She laughs at the disbelief in your voice, “Yes, I did sweetheart. Is that alright with you?”

You’re at a loss for words when you hear her call you sweetheart, “I um… I’m going to head to my room.”

You rush into the house and up the stairs past the red head. Yelena offers the woman a bright smile as she trails behind you a much slower pace.

When the blonde enters your old room she finds you pacing back and forth. Your teeth are sinking into one of your knuckles as you try to get your thoughts going.

“So…”

“You weren’t lying,” you whisper, more to yourself than her.

“I was not.”

You keep pacing, “She has two kids?”

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p', taking a seat on your bed.

You pull out your phone to call your dad. The phone rings, so long that you almost hang up.

“Hey kid, what’s going on?”

You feel your anger growing at his relaxed tone, “ I just got home… and there’s a woman in our house. A woman that Yelena told me that you are married to! Dad, what the fuck? When did you get married? Who is this woman? When did you start dating? She has kids?”

“One question at a time Y/n, please.”

You scoff over the phone, “No, you’ve been lying to me for months now, possibly longer. I deserve the truth.”

You hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know the right time. Wanda and I had been dating for almost 2 years, I didn’t want to introduce you two before I was sure she was the one.”

“Well technically you still haven’t introduced us. You were supposed to be here today.”

He sighs again, “I know kid, but work called last minute. I know I should’ve been there for this, and I’m fucking it up, but I swear Wanda is amazing, you just have to get to know her.”

“When did you get married?”

“A week after you left, it was… spontaneous. We ended up at courthouse and next thing I know, I’m Mr. Shawn Maximoff.”

You furrow your brow, “You took her last name?”

“It sounds cooler,” he concedes.

It does sound cooler so you don’t argue with him.

“I can’t believe you kept this from me. We’re supposed to be in this together. Thick as thieves, I have your back and you have mine, but you’re lying to me about things this important,” you sit on your bed next to Yelena.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to I promise. How about I come home right now, and we can talk about it in person?”

“That’s a start,” you relent.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon, love you.”

You let out a sigh of your own, “Love you, bye.”

When you hang up the phone, your head lands on Yelena’s shoulder. She pulls you into her side, rubbing your shoulder for comfort.

“There, there my friend. I’m sure everything will work out fine between you and your father. If not, you could always go with the plan of stealing Wanda away from him.”

You push her away from you, “Not funny.”

Yelena raises her hands in surrender, “It was just a suggestion.”

“Help me unpack,” you begin to unload your belongings.

Yelena deflates, but helps you regardless. When you’re done you can hear a car pull up in the driveway.

“Looks like your dad’s home.”

“Great.”

Yelena starts making her way to your bedroom door, “I love you, but I am not staying for whatever talk is about to transpire.”

“Fair,” you follow her to the front door.

“Last thing, will you be calling her mommy because-"

You open the door and push her through it, “Goodbye, Yelena.”

Your dad walks into the frame, chuckling at the scene. He waves to your friend, “Goodbye Yelena.”

She waves back, “Bye Shawn, bye Y/n.”

He closes the door behind him. Your dad turns to you and opens his arms. As upset as you are with him, you can’t deny him the hug. You wrap your arms around him, and he squeezes you tightly.

“Believe it or not, I really missed you kid.”

“Enough to get a whole new family,” you shot back him.

“That’s fair, let’s talk in the back.”

You agree, but you don’t make it to the backyard before running into Wanda again.

“Honey you’re home early,” Wanda strides past you and kisses your father.

The sight is strange to you. You knew that your father had dated after your mother, but he never brought anyone home. You had never seen him be intimate with anyone, it felt weird. At least that’s what you think the feeling is.

“I am, I owe Y/n an explanation for some things . So I thought it was best to come home and straighten things out.”

Wanda seems to understand what he’s alluding to, “Alright, while the two of you talk how about I get dinner started.”

They kiss again, and this time you turn away.

“Sounds good, let’s go kid.”

You follow your dad through kitchen and to the backyard. He stops for a second in the kitchen to grab two beers, before continuing outside. The two of you sit on the patio chairs, facing out towards the yard.

He opens both the drinks and hands you one wordlessly. You hate beer, but you’re not turning down this moment with your dad.

“I was lonely for a long time when your mom left Y/n. I wanted to unpack those feelings, but there was one feeling that I felt more than loneliness and that was fear. Fear that I wouldn’t be able to take care of you and that someone would take you away. There was nearly 10 years that I pushed those feelings of loneliness down, to focus on you, on us. It was what I supposed to do and I don’t regret it. I know I wasn’t always there for you in the way you needed me to be, but just know I was always thinking about how I could be better for you.”

He stops to take a swig of his beer, “Eventually, once I thought that you were old enough, I started dating. Nothing really stuck until I met Wanda. It was a chance encounter at some coffee place, she’d just had finalized her divorce. I wasn’t sure about it, but I also just couldn’t let her go without giving it a shot. Low and behold a shot turned into 2 years.”

You take a large gulp of beer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared. I didn’t know how you’d react. We don’t really talk about your feelings about your mom, I just didn’t want you to think- that I was trying to put someone in that spot for you."

“I understand that feeling, but I would’ve like to meet her before you know, you got married.”

“It was so just such a quick decision. That we were already married before I realized that I fucked up. There wasn’t a ceremony or anything,” he explains.

You drink some more, “But it’s been months dad. You know I thought Yelena was lying to me in the driveway when she was saying something about a wife and 2 kids.”

He looks into his lap, “The longer I waited, the harder it got. I felt like a kid who was going to get scolded, I didn’t feel like I had the right words. I still don’t think I do. ‘Hey sport, so I’ve been seeing someone for 2 years and I got married how’s your first week of college going’.”

You laugh, “I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to be left in the dark like this ever again.”

“Yes mam,” he salutes you. “So how was your first semester? Get into any trouble, join any clubs, get a girlfriend maybe?”

You stop him there, “Pump your brakes, I still have questions about… your marriage. Like where are the two kids?”

“They’re at their father’s house. They usually do two weeks there, two weeks here. I think they might be spending more time with him this summer. Billy and Tommy are great kids, I think you’d get along with them pretty well. They’re into games and stuff like you. You’ll meet them. ”

“I’m assuming they’re younger.”

“15.”

Your eyes go wide, “She has two 15-year-old kids?”

Your dad chuckles, “Yes, she does. Wanda is actually older than me.”

“Bullshit,” you say in disbelief.

“Swear to god, I’m serious. She’s a really cool person once you get to know her.”

You hum, “Well she’s already in the family, so I don’t really have a choice, do I Mr. Maximoff?”

He gets up from his seat, beer bottle empty, “Isn’t your generation supposed to be the progressive one?”

You follow his lead, downing the rest of your drink, “You’re the one giving it negative connotation.”

“Whatever kid, I'm going to change out of my work clothes. How about you see if Wanda needs any help in the kitchen?”

You take in a deep breath, “I’ll do my best.”

He places a hand on your shoulder, leading you back inside, “She’s a nice woman Y/n, she’s not going to bite your head off or anything.”

Once you’re back inside, your dad heads upstairs, while to go towards the kitchen.

“It smells really good in here,” you say entering the space.

“Thanks, I’m trying something new today. Your dad said you’re a bit of a picky eater, but I hope you’ll like it.”

“Between us, I’ve always just said that because dad only knows how to cook 3 things,” you joke, and find yourself smiling harder when you hear Wanda laugh.

“Let me guess, burger, steak, salmon?”

“You survived eating the salmon?”

She laughs even harder, covering her mouth, “There were a few bones, but it was an honest attempt.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?” You ask, but you can see that she’s about done with everything.

“Could just get the plates for me, I know they’re right by me, but I have to keep stirring or-”

“It’s no problem, Wanda.”

You cut her off politely. The plates are stashed right above the stove. You come up behind Wanda, who is stirring the food in the skillet. You are taller than her so reaching above her is no problem. The only thing that you are unsure about is standing so close behind her.

Your front is only centimeters away from touching her back. When you reach over her, you think you hear her curse to herself.

“Is everything alright?”

“The food just got me a little, all good.”

You grab the plates and sit them on the counter next to her.

“So Y/n I hear you’re an English major.”

You nod, “I am.”

“I was too back in my day.”

You can't help but shake your head, “You look like you could still be in college.”

You see her blush at your words turning off the stove. You don’t know why seeing her blush makes you feel smug, but it does.

“Oh stop it,” she looks away from you.

“I’m serious, Wanda. I would’ve never guessed you were a mother let alone to two teenagers,” you continue to compliment her.

“A lot of people are surprised when I tell them how old I am,” she admits. “They all say that I look good for my age.”

You catch her gaze, “They should just tell you that you look good. Age is irrelevant.”

“You’re quite the charmer Y/n. I don’t blame them, I’m nearly 50.”

Your eyes go wide, “Wanda, I don’t believe you.”

She laughs, “It’s true, I’m 45.”

“I’d believe you if you said 25,” you’re serious when you speak.

The compliment flusters her, “Could you help me take the plates to the table?”

You grab 2 of the 3 plates sitting them at the table. You would’ve thought that Wanda would’ve set her plate next to your dad, but instead she sits next to you.

“You can dig in when you’re ready, no need to let the food get cold waiting for your dad.”

You take her words to heart and begin eating. After the first bite you find it impossible to stop. It tastes as good as it smelt while cooking. You could cry at the home cooked meal. Ramen packets and fast food could not compare. You had been prepared for a burger that your dad made or to go out for dinner, but this was better than you could’ve expected.

“I take it, you like it,” amusement present in her voice as she watches you devour the food.

“I haven’t had a home cooked meal in a long time and if I’m bring honest they never tasted like this.”

“Do you cook at all?”

You nod, “You’re looking at the family chef. I didn’t want to always eat steak, burger, and spaghetti. “

“How could I forget about the spaghetti? He’ll literally eat it all week.”

“Now you see why I was surprised when I found out he was married.”

Your dad finally makes an appearance, “What’s wrong with my spaghetti?”

“Nothing its good spaghetti, but all week dad?

“Well if it’s good, then I don’t see the problem.”

The three of you sit and chat through dinner. It comes surprisingly easy as you find yourself enamored by Wanda. You hang on every word she says, there’s this twinkle in her eye when she speaks. Her expressions are right there on her sleeves.

You don’t miss the way she bites her lip while she’s thinking, or the small hint of an accent in certain things she says. It makes you wonder more about how your dad could ever manage a woman like this.

When everyone is done eating, you stand up and begin to collect the dishes.

“I’ve got it Y/n,” Wanda tries to take them from you, but you stop her.

“No, it’s alright, you cooked it’s only fair I do the dishes.”

She smiles, giving your father a pointed look, “Maybe someone else should take notes.”

He gives you a playful glare, “Home for a couple hours and already making me look bad.”

You start on the dishes, taking the moment to yourself to gather your thoughts. No matter how many subjects you tried to shift through, the one your mind kept falling back to was Wanda.

She was truly one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. She was a virtual stranger to you, so there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. You’d only just met her, it would take some time to get used to seeing her as your dad’s wife.

“I think that one is clean.”

Wanda’s voice startles you a bit causing you to jump lightly. Heat fills your face as embarrassment sets in.

��You caught me lost in thought,” your nerves are still high as you speak.

“What’s got you so far away sweetheart?”

You make the mistake of looking into her eyes. The genuine curiosity behind them paired with a gentle worry conveyed by the small furrow in her brow. You’re gawking again, your focus returns to the dishes.

“It’s just been me and my dad for long time.”

“I understand that , I know that you’re just meeting me-"

You stop her, “You’re lovely, Wanda. I’m not- I don’t have concerns about your relationship with him. I just… I don't know where I fit into all of this. With me moving back home, I feel like a stranger.”

Wanda takes the dish out of your hands and sits it in the rack. If she cares about the moisture level of your hands, she doesn’t say anything. She takes them in her own and looks into your eyes.

“This is your home Y/n. You will never be a stranger in it. It’s a lot to get used to, especially when it’s sprung on you so quickly and I'm sorry for that. Consider it my goal to make you feel at home.”

You don’t know when your eyes dropped to her lips, but it was abundantly clear they had when she stopped speaking.

“Sweetheart?”

You blink a few times regaining your awareness, quickly pulling your hand from hers, “Sorry, long day. I think I’ll turn in for the night, but thank you Wanda… for the food and the talk.”

You rush upstairs and close yourself in your room. What you never noticed was the faint blush on Wanda’s cheeks. She had seen you focus in on her lips while speaking. Honestly, she was finding the way you were looking at her hard to ignore. There was such a wanting in them. She was trying to ignore it, while still getting to know you, but that task was beginning to seem difficult.

She decided to wipe up the kitchen area. Her thoughts wander to when she opened the door for you. The way your eyes traveled the length of her body, the way your mouth stayed agape when she spoke.

You didn’t look a lot like your father. Wanda noted that you were tall and sort of lanky like he was, and you had a lot of his mannerisms, but physically she assumed you looked like your mother. You had soft features, that might have clashed a little with your urban aesthetic.

You presented yourself much how your dad described you. A bit shy, but truly a good mannered, funny kid. Wanda expected a little more social ineptitude, but she was surprised with how chatty you ended up being.

She wondered if it had anything to do with the way you perceived her. Truth be told she felt sorry for you, your father should’ve told you about this a while ago. She had heard about you and pressed to meet you, but he always had some excuse to why you couldn’t meet.

“So, what do you think?”

“I wish I would’ve met her a little earlier but she seems like a good kid,” Wanda turns to face her husband.

The man frowns, “I’m sorry, seeing you both interact made me realize that I could’ve done this much sooner.”

“How do you think she’ll interact with the boys?”

He smiles, “Y/n is basically one of the boys. You’ll see that side of her eventually. She’ll be in that room for the foreseeable future, until Yelena or someone else drags her out.”

“I could take her out for a girl’s day,” Wanda suggests.

Shawn laughs at her, “I’ve never known her to be into any of that stuff, but if that’s something you want to do, let me know. I’d probably have to convince her to agree.”

Wanda shakes her head, “I think I can get her to go all on my own.”

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’ll see you upstairs.”

The man makes his way upstairs to the bed. Wanda on the other hand, stays finishing up some minor things in the kitchen, before heading up herself.

She heads straight for the bathroom, ready to get the smell of the kitchen off of her. She wasn’t paying much attention on her way, looking at her phone. That’s how she found herself running straight into you. She would’ve fell if it weren’t your strong grip on her hips.

She went to apologize, but the words died on her lips as she saw water droplets falling from your skin. Her hands pressed against your slightly damp pajama shirt, in order to stabilize herself.

The shirt was thin enough, for her to feel your abdomen through it. She found herself at a loss for words.

“Are you alright Wanda?”

She nods meekly, “Sorry sweetheart, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“It’s no biggie, as long as you’re ok,” you help her fully upright, hands not leaving her side.

“All good, thanks to you,” Wanda struggles to meet your eyes.

You are about to squeeze her sides when you remember who this woman is. Your hands fall to your sides quickly. Nervous laughter build up in your throat, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Y/n I was wondering if you'd be interested in having a girl’s day with me, before my boys come. I think it’d be good to have some bonding time.”

“I um- I’ve never really had a girl’s day,” you scratch the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Well, it’ll be my treat?”

You nod, “Ok, like tomorrow or…”

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

You give a thumbs up and make your way to your room, while Wanda goes into the bathroom.

You plop straight into your bed, slapping your hand on to your face, “Really Y/n, a girl’s day. What were we thinking?”

You knew exactly what you were thinking. Alone time with Wanda, piqued your interest. The feeling of her in her hands felt like it was etched into your memory. The way she was looking at you made your heart pound in your chest.

As you lay in bed, your mind begins to paint vulgar images in your head. Ones that you had yet to experience due to your introverted lifestyle. The farthest you had gone with another girl was some lackluster dry humping.

That didn’t stop you from imagining your hands on Wanda’s body. The way she softly gasped when your hands stopped her from falling. The feeling of her fingers against your abdomen, blessed for the thing material of your shirt. The addictive color of her lips, and how they could move against yours.

You couldn’t sleep with her on your mind and the wetness pooling between your legs. You sit up in your bed, leaning back against the headboard. It’s only a moment of contemplation, before you stick your hand under the band of your pajama pants.

Your fingers are determined as they draw tight fast circles around your clit. You want to expedite the experience as much as possible. There couldn’t be anytime to dwell on who you were thinking about.

With your eyes closed you could see her taking her shirt off. Her skin soft and cool under your fingertips. A trail of goosebumps in your wake. You could see her craning her neck as you sucked on the exposed skin, marking her as your own. You could feel her hands tugging at your hair, moaning your name as you tasted her.

“Fuck, Wanda,” you came with a grunt. Your eyes still closed as your fingers stilled against the mess you made of yourself.

On the other side of your bedroom door, Wanda was standing there in shock. She had heard some sounds coming from your room after exiting the bathroom. When she realized what the sounds were, she thought she should leave. Yet the sound of her name being whispered on your tongue along with the sound of you playing with yourself, kept her in place.

She found herself worked up after her shower. Wishing that she would’ve cracked the door to see you, touching yourself with her in mind. Simultaneously scolding herself for having thoughts like this running through her head.

She married your father, she liked your father, he was a decent man. He was good to her and her boys. So what if he was always working, who cares that he hid their entire relationship from the most important person in his life, and does it even matter that he hasn’t ever really given her an orgasm. This was her new husband and she shouldn’t be thinking about his daughter in this way.

Maybe asking for a girl’s day, wasn’t a good idea. Being closer to you seemed like a dangerous game, lines that Wanda couldn’t allow herself to cross.

It was hard for her, knowing your young prying eyes were on her. From what she had heard, you already wanted her. The token of a youthful want and desire, it went right to her core.

When she finally made her way back to her room, she had decided that she needed some relief. She was going to seek it from your father, but the man already laid snoring. She shook him a couple of times in hopes to wake him up, but her attempts were met with swats of her hand and incoherent grunting.

Wanda huffed with irritation sliding into her side of the bed. She let herself get off to the thought of you that night unable to think herself guilty.

Your father was out of the house before Wanda or yourself had woken up in the morning. Wanda hated waking up to an empty bed, but it had become her new normal.

She didn't bother getting ready for the day yet. She simply stretched some, before brushing her teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast. She was surprised to find you in the kitchen, cooking.

You hadn’t recognized her presence yet, too caught up in breakfast. Music played lowly through the kitchen and you hummed along. You thought it’d be a nice gesture to make breakfast since Wanda had cooked dinner last night.

The older woman watched you in somewhat of a trance. Your movements were a little clumsy, but it was clear that you had been doing it like this for a while. She could see herself coming up behind you and wrapping herself around you as you cooked for her.

Her muscles twitched at the thought. She took in a deep breath before she finally announced her presence, “Good morning.”

You turn away from the stove to smile at her, “Perfect timing, I'm almost done with breakfast.”

“You didn't have to do all of this, your dad’s not even here to enjoy it.”

You shrug your shoulders, “I figured he’d be at work anyway. Consider this a thank you for dinner."

You bring her a plate along with some coffee before getting your own.

“Y/n, this is amazing,” Wanda praises you.

You grow bashful, “It’s nothing really. So, what’s on the agenda for our girl’s day?”

Wanda ponders for a moment, “How about you tell me some things you like to do and we’ll go from there?”

You stumble a bit, “I uh- I don't really like to do much. Dad and I never really did anything more than like going to a park and sometimes fishing.”

“What about the mall? People your age are into shopping, right?”

You laugh, “I’ve only really been back to school shopping.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Today, I guess I’m going to introduce you to some of life’s little luxuries. I’m going to need you to trust me.”

You give her a small smile, “I trust you.”

You say it so earnestly that it nearly scares her.

“Good, so we’ll head out after we’re done eating and getting dressed.”

After cleaning up and getting dressed you regrouped in the living room. You tried your best to not let your eyes linger over Wanda’s attire. She wore a simple yellow sundress, it wasn’t anything extravagant but it looked good on her. It almost made you want to change out of your t-shirt and jeans, feeling a little underdressed.

“Ready?”

You answer her, and soon you’re in the passenger seat of her car with no idea where you’re going. You both make pleasant small talk, not really feeling the need to fill the silence. The only thing you make conscious effort to do is not stare at her cleavage in the dress.

It hard to erase the images that you pictured last night, but for your own sake you try.

The first place Wanda takes you is a nail shop. You had been before, but it had honestly been years. She opted for a manicure and pedicure, while you just got a manicure. You were usually a clear coat type of girl but today you decided to get black paint.

After your nails, Wanda decides to take you to the mall.

“Ok, whatever you want in here, is on me today,” she says as you enter the shopping center.

Your eyes go wide, “Wanda, I couldn't ask you for that.”

“Good thing you didn't ask sweetheart,” she responds and you feel yourself melt a little.

“I’m not even good at shopping, I don't really know what looks good on me,” you admit to the woman.

She pauses her steps to give you a once over. Her eyes dragging slowly across your body, as if she was personally undressing you then and there.

“Honey, you should've never told me that. Now, I’m afraid you're going to have to indulge me through these stores.”

“What does that mean?”

Wanda’s tone is playful, “Don’t worry your little head about it sweetheart, I’m going to help you find some clothes.”

It's not a second later that she’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a clothing store. She starts grabbing clothes and holding them up to your body, trying to see what looks good. She had a pile of clothes in her arms that she was shoving into your hands.

“Try these on,” she pushes you to the dressing rooms.

A lot of the stuff she had was stuff you’d never grab for yourself, but it did all look good on you. There were a few pieces, particularly crop tops, that you weren’t too sure about.

“I think I look weird,” you come out in the crop top.

You have something of a jacket over it. You look down at your exposed stomach before looking up at Wanda. There’s something in the way she’s looking at you.

“It looks good,” her tongue swipes across her bottom lip. “But if you’re uncomfortable then you don’t have to get it.”

“Do you really think it looks ok?”

She stands from her spot and makes her way over to you. Her hands fiddle with the end of the shirt. She adjust the waistband of your jeans. With a few quick tugs, she has you seeing the outfit in a different way.

“I do.”

You nod, “Ok, I see it.”

“You should wear it out,” she suggests and you comply.

You thought it’d be over after the one store but Wanda takes you into 3 more clothing store, racking up a whole new wardrobe. At the end you practically had to beg her not to spend any more money.

“Do you want to go in there, your dad mentioned you’re a big gamer?”

She nods her head to the video game store that you admittedly had been eyeing since the last store you went in.

You shake your head, “You’ve already spent so much and games are like $70 now.”

“ So I’m going to take that as a yes,” she starts walking ahead into the store.

You groan, but follow her in anyway, “Wanda, can I ask what you do for work?”

She laughs, “Why, so you can feel a little better about me spending the money?”

“Maybe,” you say browsing through a few games.

“Well, I used to work in real estate and now I do editing for major publications books, magazines, things like that.”

“That seems like a big jump,” you point out.

She nods, “It is, but I’m much happier editing than I was selling houses. The real estate did give me a good standing to be able to chase and finance my dreams. It’s honestly given me more money than I know what to do with. So I usually just don’t do anything with it.”

“Does my dad know?”

Wanda adverts her eyes, “No, he doesn’t. Your dad really enjoys being a provider. He wants to be the breadwinner and bring home the bacon. He doesn’t even let me pay for dinner. I pay for some of the bills at home and he doesn’t even want me to do that. I’ve been trying to coerce him into letting me do more but-”

“He’s a stubborn guy,” you finish her thoughts. “When I was in high school, I got a job at the movie theater to help out with some things around the house and for college. Dad was really…insecure about letting me help. He wanted to prove he could do it on his own.”

Her eyes soften, “Oh wow."

“Yeah, I think it has something to do with my mom walking out on us, but I don’t know. We never really talked about it,” you say picking up a game.

Wanda knew this topic to be sensitive to your dad. He had mentioned it, but never went into detail. When Wanda tried to press for information, he'd either shut down or get irritated, she wonders if he was the same with you.

“No pressure, but if you ever want to talk about it or vent, I’m here for you.” She takes the game from your hands, “I know it’s not your dad’s favorite topic and I know I don’t have the answers you’re probably looking for, but I don’t mind listening to you.”

You look at her for a long moment. Your eyes are watering against your will. You blink back the tears and nod silently. You never really talked about your mom, truth be told you never unpacked those feelings yourself.

“I- I’ve never really talked about it with anyone. I don’t know how I feel about it, I mean I was only 5.”

Wanda thinks of her words carefully, “Do you remember her?”

You laugh lightly, still pretending to browse the games, “Of course I do, she was my mom. She brushed my hair, tucked me in, put band aids on my scrapes and cuts, and she never got mad when I got grass stains on my clothes.”

Wanda keeps quiet as she senses you have more to say.

“She was a stay-at-home mom, so I spent most of my time with her. I don’t- I wish I remembered what she looked like more. I look like her, I know I do, but… I don’t know it’s not enough.”

Wanda rests her hand on your back. Rubbing small circles bringing you more comfort than you thought you needed. You place your hand in her other hand, sighing deeply.

“I wish I knew why she left. Dad never told me, I just know that one day I woke up and she wasn’t there. He told me she wasn’t coming back. I never wanted to ask him, he was already doing so much to prove that he could be enough. I’m grateful for that, for him… but in the back of my mind I can’t help but wonder, you know.”

A teardrop falling onto your cheek, pulls you quickly out of the moment. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve and take a step back from Wanda.

“Y/n-"

“I’ve heard really cool things about that game. I’ve been wanting it for a few months now,” you pivot topics, clearing your throat.

“Then it’s yours sweetheart.”

You were grateful that she just let it go.

After that you both decide to call it a day and head back home. You bring all of your new clothes to your room and begin to put them away. You decide to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes before heading down to the living room. Usually you’d keep to yourself in your room, but you were secretly hoping Wanda would join you.

“What’re you watching?”

“Back to the Future, it’s one of my favorites,” you make room for her on the couch next to you.

She takes a seat, “Mine too.”

You perk up, “Really?”

She nods, “Me and my brother used to watch it all the time when we were younger.”

The two of you sit in silence as you watch the movie. Unbeknownst to either of, the space between you grows slimmer by the minute. You take a peek at the woman to find her eyes fluttering, before they finally close. She had already nearly been laying on the couch. Her feet are up, bent to lay over each other. She had been holding up her head in her hand. Now as she fell unconscious her head had drops into your lap.

You feel your heart rate pick up. The movie suddenly becomes uninteresting. You don’t want to move, unwilling to wake the woman. She looks peaceful in her sleep. You notice how she twitches lightly and though you shouldn’t your fingers begin to comb through her hair. She hums in your lap, but you don’t still. Your fingers work gingerly to bring her comfort.

She stops twitching and you refocus on the movie with your hand still in her hair. Eventually you find yourself dozing off as well.

“Well, well, well looks like girl’s day was a success,” it’s your father’s voice that wakes both you and Wanda.

The red head becomes alert first, she notes her position in your lap and your hand in her hair and immediately bolts up right. You’re slower to come to stretching widely before open your eyes.

“Yeah, it was pretty fun,” you say while yawning.

“I see some nail polish Y/n, that’s new.”

You shrug, “It’s not the first time.”

“I know but it’s been a while, having another girl around the house is nice, isn’t it?”

You let out a huff of irritation, completely aware of what he was insinuating. For the most part your dad was in support of your sexuality. However, there were some jokes he just couldn’t let go of. The “gay” thing was fine with him, but he still believed that you could stand to be more ladylike. Which was completely rich coming from the man that raised you on fishing trips, Miller Lite, and WWE.

“So, ladies what’s for dinner?”

Wanda goes to answer but you speak over her, “Honestly dad, I was hoping for some of your burgers tonight.”

Your father beams with excitement, “Will do kiddo, just let me shower first and I’ll be in the kitchen.”

You both watch as he wanders up the stairs.

“You didn’t want to cook, did you?”

“No, not really. Thank you for the save and for letting me nap on you,” she adverts her gaze as she speaks to you.

“I’m happy to help in any way I can,” you say to her, not noticing the undertone of your statement.

Her eyes become dark as she looks at you. The lust filled look in her eyes has you reeling at what you said. There’s no point in taking it back now. You swallow thickly under her gaze, but don't make any motion to move away from her. Instead, you find yourself compelled to lean in closer.

Wanda let’s you get within a few inches of her face, before breathlessly letting your name fall from her lips, “Y/n.”

You close your eyes, “You can’t just say my name like that, Wanda.”

“You can’t make statements like the one you made,” she fires back.

Both of you give leeway to how you’re actual feeling. You go to move closer to her, but her hand on your shoulder keeps you away. It honestly breaks you from whatever pulled you in, in the first place

The tips of your ears heat up as you stand abruptly, “Sorry, I- I’ll see you at dinner.”

Much like when you were a teenager you lock yourself in your room. Wanda picks up a pillow from the couch putting it over her head, pretending to scream into it.

You send a quick text to Yelena. Something along the lines of saying you should hang out tomorrow. She is in disbelief at the fact that you want to do something out of the house, but is equally as excited. She says she’s taking advantage of this and keeping you out all day.

You needed to get out of the house. You stayed in it so much because you deemed it as a safe space. However, with Wanda around… you didn’t know if you could truly call it safe. It had only taken two days for you to almost kiss her.

There wasn’t a bone in your body that was used to moving this quickly. It had taken you years to develop your first crush and even longer before you acted on any such feeling. Yet with Wanda everything felt different. You weren’t a believer in love at first sight, you wouldn’t call what you were feeling love. This attraction… for lack of a better term just felt intense.

It was almost as if every interaction had a double meaning to it. It was something that the other woman was clearly also aware of. Neither of you should be acting on it and technically you hadn’t done anything. The problem was that you wanted to, and you didn’t see those feelings going away anytime soon. It was only the second day and you had the rest of your life to go.

One day out with Yelena became a couple days of the week out with her. You even had started texting your former roommate to see if she’d be down to hangout as well. So save for the first two days, you spent every day out and about.

You had similar plans for the next week too, but they came to a halt quickly when your dad mentioned Wanda’s kids coming back from their dad’s. He made it clear that he wanted you to be there to meet them so your plans of avoiding home, became a little more complicated.

So once again you were stuck in your room. The doorbell ringing is the only reason you had left the space. You knew that your dad was out and Wanda was working in her office at the time, so you were the only option.

It rang one more time, before you got to it. When you open the door, you are met by two teenage boys and an older looking man. You stare at them and they stare back at you.

“Is Wanda in? I would like to have a talk with her,” the man in the middle speaks.

“She’s working right now.”

He rolls his eyes, “And who are you exactly?”

Something about his tone makes you jaw twitch, “I’m Y/n, Shawn’s kid.”

“Right, the one he was hiding away.”

“Dad-”

Dealing with stuck up assholes was unfortunately nothing new to you, “Billy, Tommy you guys can head on in.”

They look from their father to you before quickly making the decision to go inside. The man trues to go in behind but you block his entry.

“They live here, you don’t. I suggest you try talking to Wanda again sometime next week…” you smile at him.

“Jarvis,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Goodbye Jarvis,” you slam the door in his face.

You clap your hands together as you turn around. You slightly startle at the presence of the teen boys behind you. There’s an awkward silence as you stare at each other.

“So, your mom said you guys are gamers?”

That’s all it took for the three of you to hunker down in the living room and start gaming. From Mario Kart to Mario Party to Mortal Kombat, the three of you rotted the day away. You end up ordering some pizza and junk food, which is essential for all gaming marathons.

“I love your style by the way,” Billy says grabbing a slice of pizza.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You might as well just ask me if I'm gay.”

Tommy laughs at this, which earns him a slap in the arm from Billy.

“Well… are you?”

“Yep.”

“Girlfriend?” Tommy asks.

“Nope, how about you two?”

Billy smiles, “I have a boyfriend.”

He goes on telling you some details. You genuinely feel happy for the boy. To be young, out, and dating is really cool.

“That’s really cool Billy.”

“Thanks, I wish my dad thought so too.”

Tommy jumps in the conversation, “Dad is fucking stupid, what does he know about any kind of relationship.”

You agree with Tommy, “I mean he did fumble your mom.”

They both laugh, but Billy brings the conversation back, “I just wish he was more accepting.”

“He’s either going to come around because he loves you or keep showing you who he really is. Either way you still have your mom, your bother, your boyfriend, and even me to rely on. So just cause your dad isn’t accepting doesn't mean you aren’t accepted,” you tell him sincerely.

“He wanted to talk to mom about Billy’s boyfriend. He thinks it’s… inappropriate,” Tommy spills.

“Well I don't think it's any of his business, and even if he did tell your mom she’d have your back,” you say like it’s obvious.

“If who told me what?”

Wanda comes out from her office and her kids greet her. She’s surprised to see you downstairs with them, but doesn’t comment on it.

“Dad doesn't approve of Billy’s boyfriend,” Tommy says again earning an agitated look from his brother.

“Yeah, he was going to talk to you, but Y/n kicked him out,” Billy says awkwardly.

You keep your focus on the game, “I didn’t kick him out… I slammed the door in his face.”

“Y/n!”

“It was well deserved. He asked who I was, I told him. Then the asshole has the audacity to refer to me as ‘the one he was hiding' when trying to get into my house. I think the fuck not.”

Wanda walks in front of your TV blocking the game. You pause it and look up at her to find an unexpected fury in her eyes.

“What did he say to you?”

You meet her eyes, urging her to calm down, “I handled it.”

She takes the hint, moving out of your way, “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She then focuses on talking with her children, recapping the week that they had. Billy also goes into some less than nice details of what his father had to say about his boyfriend.

Wanda’s hand presses against her brow line hearing the details. She’s clearly irritated with the twin’s father.

“I’ll talk to him, and you tell me if he says anything else. I have no issue coming to get you guys if he makes you uncomfortable,” Wanda says hugging the boys.

You take this moment between the family to go upstairs. You breath in the minute to yourself. The twins were nice, and it was cool to have people in the house to game with. They’d seem like people who’d you befriend at their age.

“Thanks for hanging out with my kids and for the stuff with their dad,” Wanda stands in your doorway.

You give her a small nod, “Billy and Tommy are cool. Their dad… less cool. So it was my pleasure to slam the door in his face.”

Wanda chuckles, “Jarvis is an asshole.”

You join in on her laughter, “Yeah, I definitely can’t see you with that guy.”

“I was young and naïve. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have stayed for so long.”

“How young?”

Wanda sighs, “18. He was older, more appealing back then.”

You can’t hide your reaction, “Oh.”

“Yeah, but that asshole gave me my kids. So I guess he was good for something.”

You disagree with her, “Just cause a guy is good for something, doesn’t mean he’s good for you.”

“Where were you when I was in my prime, Y/n?” her words have a double meaning.

You look at her, more serious than a heart attack, “I’m right here, and your prime is far from over.”

She shudders under your look, “Y/n.”

“I wish you could feel how hard it is for me to do the right thing, Wanda. I hate leaving the house, but I know if I was here all day with just you, I’d lose it.”

You’re lying on your back in bed. Your eyes cut from Wanda to the ceiling.

“Y/n, I’m married to your father.”

“He doesn’t even fuck you,” you say with a bored tone.

“Y/n!”

You don’t return her reaction, “I’ve been waiting to see if I’d have to plug my ears, or move downstairs so I didn’t have to hear. But it hasn’t happened yet. Probably too tired from work.”

“Y/n my kids are downstairs.”

Your head falls into your hands, “I’m sorry. I-I’m going to head out for a bit.”

You get up and go for your door. Wanda doesn’t move out of your way. She stands still in your doorframe.

“Where are you going?”

“I don't know, Lena’s if she’s home.”

Wanda frowns hearing this, “You don’t have to-”

You lock eyes with her’s, “I do.”

Wanda’s hand caresses your cheek. You lean into her touch. You hear her take an unsteady breath.

“You make this so hard for me.”

She slowly removes her hand, only to replace it with her lips. It’s enough to ignite a fire in your body. They linger, much longer than they should.

“Be safe,” she fixes your clothes a little, before finally clearing your path.

“Wanda-"

“I’ll see you back for dinner,” she says walking away from you.

When you think she can't see you anymore, you touch your cheek. The spot where her lips had been. You slip out of the house and make your way to Yelena’s.

You knock on the door and wait for her to answer. When she does, you don't let her say anything. You drag her upstairs to her room. You lock her door, before you start pacing in her room. She sits on her bed watching you.

“So… are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“I need this to be a judgement free zone.”

Yelena tilts her head, “Then why come here?”

“Yelena, I’m serious.”

She raises her hands in surrender at your snappy tone, “Fine, what is it?”

“I’m attracted to Wanda, and I think… she’s attracted to me.”

Yelena laughs as you stare at her. The laughter goes on for minutes before she realizes that you aren't laughing.

“Y/n, are you being serious?”

You close your eyes, “Lena there’s this tension. I just thought it was in my head. I almost kissed her, I don’t know what’s going on. I’ve been going out, and stuff just to stay away from her. She’s driving me insane.”

“You tried to kiss her!”

“She gave me this kiss on the cheek. She said I was making it hard for her. Yelena I’ve never felt like this for anyone,” you tell your best friend.

“Dude you’re fucked,” is all that she says.

“I know.”

“She’s your dad’s wife.”

“I know.”

“She has 2 kids.”

“I know.”

“Did I say she’s your dad’s wife already?”

You groan joining her on the bed, “I- I don’t know if I care about it. I mean I do, but he doesn’t even treat her that good. It could be worse, but it’s not great.”

“And you think you can do better?”

“I’d worship her.”

Yelena shakes her head, “I can’t believe you right now. You’re trying to get with your dad’s wife, she’s like almost 30 years older than you.”

“Can you blame me, you’ve seen her? It’s not my fault. If I would’ve met her before, maybe it would be different. It’s just like I come home and there’s this undeniably attractive woman in my house. She doesn’t feel like my dad’s wife to me."

Yelena nods along, “That’s fair, but Y/n this is insane.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Let’s go to a club.”

Your eyes widen, “A club?”

“Lots of attractive people who are closer to your age and eligible,” she reasons with you.

“I’m not even supposed to be out right now. My dad says I have to be home to get acclimated with Wanda’s kids. They leave in a week.”

She claps her hands together, “Alright then, next week we’re going clubbing.”

You get a text from Wanda saying your father is on the way home. You know it’s her way of saying you need to be back soon.

“What should I do in the mean time?”

Yelena searches for an answer before landing on, “Act like she’s your mom.”

You gag at the thought, “Ew.”

Yelena reacts gleefully, “Exactly.”

You pause before exiting, “Technically… she is a milf though.”

“Y/n L/n get a fucking grip,” Yelena says with amusement.

“I’m trying, but she won’t let me,” you whine.

“You having a thing for older women makes so much sense. No wonder you had a crush on Natasha.”

You send her a playful glare, “We do not talk about the dark ages.”

“It’s alright, I forgive you. I don’t know if your dad will be as forgiving as I am.”

You shrug, “I’ll test it out and let you know.”

She leads you to her front door, “Think about the club. Focus on it, breathe it in. Dream about it. Do not think about fucking your step mom.”

“Too late for that,” you shrug again.

“Just get out already, I’m running low on things to say back.”

“Bye Lena,” you say as she basically pushes you out of her door.

You make it back just before your dad gets there. It’s interesting seeing him interact with Billy and Tommy. It’s clear to you that he favors Tommy a little more. It’s just in the way he speaks. It bothers you a bit and you make sure to include Billy any time that you can in conversation.

You can feel Wanda’s eyes on you throughout the dinner, but you keep your attention with the boys and your dad.

“So I have a bit of an announcement to make,” your father says, gathering everyone’s attention. “I have an opportunity to get a promotion at work.”

“That’s great honey, we’re so proud of you,” Wanda gives him a quick kiss.

You try your best to hold back any malice with a fake smile on your face.

“Well, the thing is I’d need to go out of town for a bit to secure the position,” he says and you feel Wanda’s mood shift.

“For how long dad?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink.

He winces, “At least a month, maybe more.” He begins to pile on in an effort to make it seem less drastic. “It’s really a once in a lifetime opportunity, I've been working there for so long it feels overdue, but with this money our lives could change dramatically. We could move, Y/n you could go back to dorming, it would be-”

“You already accepted it didn't you?”

Wanda’s tone is guarded as she speaks. It's clear that she's unhappy and you don't blame her.

You sigh pushing yourself away from the table, “Congratulations dad, I’m going to head up to my room now.”

“Wait.” Wanda’s voice stops you in your tracks. “How do you feel about this Y/n?”

“I uh-”

“Don’t drag my kid into this.”

Wanda starts gesturing with her hands, “I’m not, she’s bound to have an opinion. She lives here, she’s your daughter, and she came back home because of you. Now you’re bailing.”

“It’s not a big deal. I’m used to him being busy,” you try to mediate.

Your dad throws his hands up, “What is that supposed to mean?”

You give him your honest opinion, “It means you’re busy. You were late to my graduation because of work. You missed my award ceremonies. There wasn’t any point in me signing up for extracurriculars because you’d never take me or show up anyway. It’s nothing personal dad, it’s just the truth.”

“I was providing for you,” he throws it back in your face.

Your shoulders drop, “I know and I’m grateful, but-” you stop yourself. Instead you just head for your room. You hear him call after you, but you don’t respond.

It’s not soon after that you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. There’s a soft knock on your door. You don’t say anything as Billy and Tommy slip into your room.

“They’re still going at it,” Tommy announces.

“Do they… do this a lot?” You ask the boys.

Billy answers, “When any sort of quality time is involved.”

You scoff, “Classic.”

Tommy places a hand on your shoulder, “We get it you know.”

“Sometimes you just wish they were there for you,” Billy finishes the sentence.

You feel yourself breaking down but refuse to let the tears fall. Tommy pulls you into a hug and Billy joins in soon after. You center yourself in their embrace. It’s not a comfort that you’re used to experiencing, you appreciate it immensely.

At some point during this moment the voices downstairs escalate to yelling. It quickly grabs your attention and has you realizing that you are the only other adult present in this moment. It feels like your responsibility to try to shield them from this, even if they are on the older side of things. Teenagers are still kids. Hell you still feel like a kid in your early twenties.

You place a hand on Billy’s head and the other on Tommy’s, “Thanks kids. I’m going to go handle downstairs, you stay up here.”

Tommy interjects, “I think-”

You stop him, “I’ve got it, trust me. They’re going to get noise complaint if things keep going.”

You steel yourself as you go downstairs to find Wanda and your father in the middle of a heated argument. They’re both standing, yelling in each other’s faces.

“SO WHAT SHAWN YOU LEAVE FOR OVER A MONTH AND DON’T EVEN THINK TO RUN IT BY ME FIRST?”

“RUN IT BY YOU FOR WHAT WANDA? YOU AREN’T MY MOTHER.”

“I AM YOUR WIFE, OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT? TOO BUSY WORKING TO EVEN ACKNOWLEDGE ME.”

“WHEN DID YOU BECOME SUCH A NEEDY BI-“

“ENOUGH,” you cut your father off in the middle of his sentence. The couple looks at you, and you can feel the anger simmering in their gazes. “It’s late, you’re going to get the police called with all of your arguing.”

“Well if-”

“Stop. The conversation is going nowhere because you aren’t having a conversation, you’re just screaming at each other,” you tell them.

“Y/n, you should stay out of this,” your father glare at you.

“I would love to, only we can all hear you upstairs. You either need to table this conversation for another time or go somewhere else to talk. Neither of you should be acting like this in front of your kids. I don’t care who started it, if you both plan on staying here tonight it’s over right now.”

Wanda is the one to take in a deep breath. She looks between you and your father. There’s something behind her eyes but you’re focused on the task at hand.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” she walks away from the table, past you, and disappears up the stairs.

You muster up all the disappointment you possibly can as you take in your father’s appearance, “She has a right to be upset with you. It seems like you keep hiding these really important, life altering things from her. You have to be more upfront, more honest with her.”

“How was I supposed to know she’d react this way?”

You level with him, “You had to have expected something like this, it’s why you didn't tell her in the first place.”

“Maybe I did, I just… I really want this,” he says slumping down on the couch.

“Wanda doesn’t seem like the unsupportive type. It’s all in your delivery. You need to apologize, before you leave. When are you leaving?”

“In 3 days.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “Christ dad.”

“I know, I know. I’ll take her out tomorrow and we'll talk it out there.”

You nod, turning to go back to your room.

“Kid wait.” You pause at his call. “What were you going to say back there, before you went to your room?”

It takes you a moment to respond, “Sometimes I just wanted someone to be there for me. My dad, my mom, just someone. You were always busy with work and I was always alone.”

You don’t give him a chance to say anything else as you go up the stairs. His eyes follow you until you disappear. He sighs, leaning back into the couch, feeling like he could scream. He was failing, and he had 3 days to fix it.

When go back upstairs the boys are passed out on your bed. You think about waking them up, but decide against it. You settle on going into their room. It’s not until you shut the door behind you, that you notice the red head sitting on one of the beds in the room.

You take a seat on the bed that she’s not sitting on. The silence is heavy as you stare at each other. You can see the emotions running through her eyes. The anger, the frustration, and the lust. Your heart beat is steady as you look back at her.

“Do you think I’m in the wrong?” her voice is small when she asks.

“No, I just don’t think you know what kind of guy you married. He’s never going to be around enough and he’s never going to pick you over work. I’m not trying to be an asshole, it’s just the truth,” you speak bluntly.

“If you-" Wanda stops her sentence in its tracks.

“Honestly if I were him, I’d turn it down. I wouldn’t want to leave you for a month, but he's not me.”

“No, he isn’t,” she breathes out.

There’s another silence. Then it happens, so suddenly that you nearly freeze. Wanda’s lips are on yours. Her hands are planted in your hair and yours rest on the dips of her hips. Your back lays flat against the mattress.

Your tongue slips into her mouth causing you both to moan. Her hips roll on your lap and you grunt at the sensation. Your lips leave her mouth only to kiss down the side of her neck. As much as you want to leave a hickey you don’t. It’s not until your tongue runs across the top of her breast that she partial breaks from the trance.

“Y/n,” it’s a whine from her lips. The sound is entirely to intoxicating.

You begin to guide her hips against your thigh. Her sundress not leaving much fabric between her cunt and your sweats.

“Y/n we shouldn’t,” her hips follow your movements though her words tell you different.

“Just let me make you cum, please. Please Wanda, get off on my thigh,” your words are low as you beg her.

“Fuck,” Wanda watches the way your eyes don’t move from where she grinds on your thigh.

She lifts the sundress slightly so you can have a better view.

“Oh god,” you groan at the sight of the dampness of her panties. It turns you on even more.

Wanda finds herself grinding down harder, chasing her orgasm. You hold her firmly, helping create more friction. You find yourself getting off on the image before you.

“Fuck, use me. I know he can’t do it, so let me be useful. Fucking use my thigh. You’re so hot, shit I wish I could have you like this every night. I’m so desperate for you. I’m going to cum just from having you on me, fuck mommy.”

Wanda’s body completely falls into your arms. She shakes as she cums, leaving a mess on your sweatpants. She’s trying and failing to catch her breath as you hold her upright. Her head lolls into your shoulder.

“Did you really cum?” she says lips brushing against your ear.

You nod dumbly.

She moans again, “That’s so fucking hot.” She places a kiss right below your ear. “And what did you call me?”

Your chest heaves as you breathe out a response, “Mommy.”

She purrs in your ear before pulling away some. She grabs a fistful of your shirt pulling you into a searing kiss.

“We’re doing this again. Do you understand sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes mommy.”

She kisses your head one last time before getting off of your lap. You don’t miss the way her legs shutter as she gets up. You whine at the loss of contact.

“Don’t worry detka, we’ve got a little time to ourselves coming up. Mommy will let you go as far as you can handle, and maybe a little more than that.”

Next part

[bluebirdsfeathers]

First Day

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summery: You are a new intern at Westview paper hoping to make a good first impression with you new boss, Wanda.

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Classism, use of y/n nothing else

A/N: inspired by this post by @wandaslittlehorns this was meant to be short but I really like this idea, so this is just part one now haha.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

You shot up in bed, the sound of your alarm belting in your ears. Aimlessly you smacked your bedside table, though you weren’t sure if the collection of cardboard boxes next to your mattress on the ground could be considered one, you eventually found and turned it off. Grabbing your phone, you looked at the time. “Shit…” You groan. Somehow, you’d slept though both of your previous alarms, the one that woke you was intended to let you know it was time to leave.

Today was the first day of your new internship and now you were going to be late. Great first impression. Jumping to your feet you make your way to the bathroom, you don’t particularly smell so some time could be saved by forgoing a shower. You get dressed and drench yourself in axe body spray. Your wrinkled white shirt had a small stain that you hid by tucking it into your jeans. They were black so it wasn’t like you weren’t trying to look professional with your limited wardrobe and budget.

Before long you were riding the cramped subway drinking what was left of the monster energy you’d grabbed before leaving on you way to your first full-time job since graduating college. An internship at the Westview Paper wasn’t something you just got handed. You had worked hard but you were by no means the hardest worker. You did however have a talent for getting stuff done quickly, all the assignments you completed the night before could prove that. It was weird that you had gotten picked for this position, you could think of at least five more deserving people in your graduating class alone. Especially since you thought you bombed the last interview stage. She was in the room for that. Wanda Maximoff, the CEO of Westview Paper. Though she hadn’t spoken a word, just sat at the back of the room occasionally making notes while you were grilled by a very intense man in a far too expensive suit.

As you emerged from the subway, lost in a sea of other commuters, you scanned your surroundings for Westview Tower, the homebase of the Paper’s operations, now your place of work. Checking the time as you rushed through the spinning door you were revealed to see you were only three minutes late. Standing in the lobby you looked around at all the people cutting through clearly on a mission to get somewhere faster than any human reasonably could. Lots shouted down phones while others talked into earpieces, not a single person without coffee in hand. Slowly you made your way to the front desk, “Hi, I’m y/n… I’m part of the new internship.” You said sheepishly, embarrassed slightly you didn’t know where you were meant to be, you were sure it was probably mentioned in an email somewhere. “Do you know where…”

“Third floor, room 43B, you’re late by the way.” The women at the front desk didn’t even look at you, just continued to type on the computer and chew gum. “Right, sorry, Thank you.” You took a few steps toward the elevator before she spoke again, slightly too loud for the distance between you. “Forgetting something? You won’t get very far without this sweetie.” She dangles your employee badge, and you retreat to collect it, cringing slightly at the pet-name.

Finally, you were able to leave the sensory nightmare that was the lobby and enter the elevator. It was just you alone with your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a mess. Have you looked like that the whole time? Is that why the receptionist was rude? Was she even being rude or is that just how people talk to each other here? You took a deep breath and tried to tidy your appearance, feeling much more self-conscious than you did ten minutes ago. The doors to the elevator opened to the Third floor and you set out on finding room 43B.

The room was easy enough to find and by the looks of things nothing had started yet. The other interns were all just talking amongst themselves, so you grabbed an office chair and joined the conversation. “So, y/n, did you do anything nice between graduation and now?” One of the male interns, the one with the most punchable face although it was a stiff competition, asked with a grating the tone of voice. “Oh well my parents took me to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate,” the others laughed as if there was some joke everyone was in on but you, “Then we went to the cinema to watch the new Godzilla movie.” Again, laughter and you shifted awkwardly in your chair.

You weren’t left with the feeling for long as soon the door swung open and several very well-dressed people entered. Following what everyone else was doing you stood up and went over to great them. You went down the line of businessmen, each one either smelling like tobacco or overpriced cologne. You weren’t really looking them in the face as you made quick introductions, that was until you reached a hand with deep red nail polish. Lifting your head you met the gaze of Wanda Maximoff. She was dressed in a black suit with her white shirt slightly unbuttoned. Your brain buffered for a moment before you realised how long you’d been holding her hand. “Hi! I’m y/n.” You felt your cheeks heat up and quickly let go, painfully aware of how sweaty your palms now were. “Pleasure to meet you.” Wanda smiled while looking you in the eyes and you quickly became interested in looking at the floor, meaning you didn’t see how her eyes linger on you as she moved to great the next person.

What followed was a boring meeting about company goals for the next quarter, you tried to pay attention but felt your thoughts drifting to the events of earlier. It had quickly become evident you existed in a different tax bracket to everyone in the room. Your joyous memory of dinner and a movie now slightly tainted by comparison to the rewards of ski vacations and new designer goods your peers had received. While lost in thought your eyes found their way to Wanda as she once again sat at the back of the room and took notes. It was clear she’d paused her writing to look at you, catching you slightly slouched staring off into space. She shook her head disapprovingly, making you sit up straight instantly to which she gave a small laugh that only added to your embarrassment.

As the meeting drew to a close, you said your goodbyes to the higher ups, only managing a respectful nod in Wanda’s direction, before heading to lunch with the interns. “So, who do you think she’s going to pick?” Mildred, girl with the whitest teeth you’d ever seen, spoke to you in a hashed tone as you stood just outside the office room.

“Pick for what?”

“To be her personal intern? Were you not listening in there?” She sounded slightly annoyed. “We are all going to be assigned to different departments, so who do you think it’s going to be?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” You found yourself looking back into the room you’d just left; you could see Wanda talking to someone through the internal windows. She was beautiful, you’d love to be her intern, learning from the best. As she exited the room, she gave you one last look and a small wave before heading down the hall in the other direction. “Maybe it’ll be me.” You said without really thinking. Mildred scoffed and mumbled something under her breath before speeding off to catch up with the others.

The rest of the day was spent learning fire safety and being given a tour of the building. Passive aggressive comments from the other interns got less effective as you noticed you weren’t the only one receiving them and before you knew it you were back on the subway heading home. Getting off a stop early you decided to pick up a pizza as a reward for surviving your first day, the streets were a lot calmer near your apartment on the outskirts of the city, and the walk was enjoyable in the cool September weather. Your apartment was small, a studio with only the very basics, it was all you could afford on your previous job’s salary. But now you were going to be earning so much more, and you hand big plans for that first pay-check, like maybe a bed frame.

[novemberheart]

{overview} Just because your pack is back together doesn’t mean things are back to normal

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly141, cursing, mentions of being scared, smoking, short chapter

Chapter 30 <- Chapter 31 -> Chapter 32

“Hi, Ms. Garrick,” you greeted. You heard her chuckle on the other end of the phone.

“Well hello, lovely,” she greeted back. You smiled at the similarities between their pet names for you. She had gotten your number from John after Kyles accident. She called you leaving the kindest message in your inbox.

Hello, Sweetheart. Now you don't know me, but my name is Rosalind Garrick, Kyle’s mother. But don't think that just because you don't know me, I know nothing about you. You’re all Kyle talks about anymore and I’m just so happy he's finally able to get some peace amongst his chaos. I know how hard this all must be for you so if you ever need anyone to talk to please reach out to me. As far as I'm concerned you’re a part of our pack and we want to make sure you are taken care of.

Alright, sweetheart. Talk to you soon.

Since then you've called her every few days, mostly to give her updates about Kyle.

“How’s our beta doing?” she asked.

“He’s been doing good. Started to get up and walk with crutches. He's stubborn and restless,” you grumbled. As if on cue, the beta trudged out of his room, heading towards the kitchen.

“That’s the man I know,” she chuckled.

“Hey, mum,” Kyle greeted from the kitchen. You bounded over, hoisting yourself up onto the counter.

“The next time you all go on leave I want you to come home,” She pressed. You grinned wickedly, agreeing before the words had even reached Kyle’s ears. “I’ve only met Johnny. Now it’s a crime I haven't met your alphas yet, and I'm not going to let you get away with me not meeting your omega. In-person,” she added.

“Sounds right to me,” you agreed. That's why she loved you.

“You’ll love the city. Did Kyle tell you about all the museums? I know you love those.”

Kyle did tell her about you.

“We can work that out,” Kyle agreed. He did want to go home, and he desperately wanted to share that part of himself with you. You and Ms. Garrick both squealed excitedly.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you asked. He stiffened immediately, his mind jumping to the worst.

Had he hurt you again?

Your hands smoothed over his shoulder, your bottom resting against his knee. His relax was instantaneous. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours.

“I was wondering if I could get a job?” you said slowly. It wasn't slow enough with the way the wheels in his mind were turning.

“Why? Something you need? It’s my job”-

“No, nothing like that. It’s more social than anything.” you interjected. “I’ll be with Anais and Jane. It’s at a new bakery a little off base. It's just a few hours on Fridays and the weekend,” you explained.

He wanted to shut it down. You were social enough. Before Kyle was hurt you had activities nearly every day. Sometimes it felt like you did more in a day than they did.

Yet the look in your eyes halted him. You had forgiven him- he could feel it. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you after just making up.

“Alright,” he agreed. You gasped softly, a wide grin spreading over your face. It made him happy despite the feeling of something wrong clawing at him.

“Thank you!” you cheered, your lips colliding with his cheek.

“One of us will take you to work the first week. Then you girls can commute together. And you are never to go off on your own, you understand?” he urged. You hummed against his cheek. “And I need to meet your boss- and anyone else who’s working there,” he added, between your attacks.

You were just about to head to your room, when a strong arm wrapped around your middle. You recognized a familiar tattoo.

“Tavy,” you giggled. He said nothing, heading to his room.

“Seems like you've forgotten it’s my night, bonbon,” he teased, tossing you on his bed. He crawled over you, making you flush.

“I could never forget,” you lied, blinking up at him. He smirked down at you, completely still for a moment before pressing rapid-fire kisses against your cheek.

You squealed as his hands tickled up and down your sides.

“Mac, no!” you gasped out. “I was just getting tired,” you whined against him. He paused, his smirk pressing against yours.

“Alright, peaches,” he agreed. He wrapped an arm tightly around you, purring softly as you buried your face in his chest. Cinnamon mixed with some of your vanilla lotion he had stolen.

“Simon comes home tomorrow,” you sighed happily. Johnny hummed, a pleased rumble leaving his throat. “I thought you and John would be gone longer,” you yawned.

“So did we,” he yawned back. He said nothing more on the topic, yet you didn't expect him to.

When you woke up you were no longer trapped between him and the bed, but him and another body. Leather with an undertone of black licorice. There was more smoke in his scent than you were used to. He must have been smoking a lot. A purr vibrated through you, making his chestnut eyes flutter open.

“What’re you purring about?” Simon groaned, pushing the two of you closer to Johnny. He was playing dumb. You could feel the curl of his lips against the back of your head.

“You’re back,” you said weakly, your throat hoarse with sleep.

“I’m back,” he affirmed. His hand found your stomach rubbing small circles in an attempt to lull you back to sleep. He wasn't ready to get up yet. He had just gotten home an hour ago and the last thing he wanted to do was pull himself away from the warmth of this bed. “Go back to sleep, pup,” he urged. You didn't need much more convincing, your eyes practically sewing themselves shut.

“Welcome home,” Johnny grumbled, with half-lidded eyes.

“Thanks, pup,” Simon mumbled, his fingers digging into the Scots side, pulling all of you closer once more. That wasn't usual for Simon, needing to have his pack this close, especially after a mission. Something must’ve happened.

“You alright?” Johnny drawled, unburying his face from your neck. Simon hummed in assurance.

“Fine, mutt,” he soothed. “Get some sleep,” he pressed, his fingers racking up and down Johnny’s lower back.

The next time Simon woke he had a fever. It was hot enough to make you and Johnny wake up in a sweat. Johnny quickly grabbed you, plopping you on the couch next to Kyle- assuming you may have triggered a rut for Simon like you had for John.

“What’s happening?” John groaned, uncurling himself from Kyle on the couch.

“Fever,” you responded. Kyle's hand pressed against your forehead. “Simon,” you clarified, moving to stand so you could peek into Johnny’s room. “I don't think it’s a rut Johnny,” you mumbled.

“I’m fine,” Simon groaned. He peeled off his sweatshirt, flopping back down against the mattress. His wide chest rose and fell irregularly. You approached your hand resting on his stomach. His body seemed to relax slightly, and you decided to take the chance and curl up against him. His heartbeat was fast- too fast.

“I’m calling a doctor,” John pressed, gently maneuvering Kyle off of him. Simon flipped the two of you over, making you gasp. Johnny flung forward his hand gripping the alpha’s shoulder.

“Not gonna do anything, pup,” he mumbled, his heart squeezing at the sound that escaped you. “Need to feel ya,” he mumbled, just low enough for you to hear. His hand crept under your shirt resting against the soft skin of your back.

He couldn't explain it. It started two weeks ago, a light burning sensation under his skin, and an almost sour feeling in his mouth. It felt like he was going through withdrawals. He was shaky, his heart skipping beats. He went through two packs of cigarettes in a day and still no relief. Wasn't till he met you at the hospital after Kyle’s accident did he start to put it together. Yet it only got worse being around you.

He growled against your neck, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth creaked.

“Doctor’ll be here in fifteen,” John spoke, his shoulder taking up the doorway. “How long have you felt this way?” John pressed.

“Couple weeks,” he growled. A pang shot through his skull, he steadied himself over you, taking a deep breath. It only made it worse, yet he couldn't pull himself away. Johnny leaned against the desk causing it to creak, the sound sending Simon on high alert. You whined at the snarl that left him. “Sorry,” he apologized instantly.

“Sweetheart, how about we wait on the couch till the doctor gets here?” John offered, beginning to move towards the two of you. He didn't like the way Simon was acting. The sound that came out of Simon was deadly, making it known he disagreed with Johns suggestion. John released a sound of his own.

You were scared.

It didn't help when Simon's hand reached behind him, grabbing at John's shirt.

“What the hell?” Johnny growled. Johnny sprung into action, his arms reaching under Simons pulling him to the floor.

“Get out!” John commanded. You didn't need to be told twice, throwing yourself off the bed, curling up behind Kyle. Kyle held you with both arms, not caring about the uncomfortable stretch of his shoulder.

“Up we go,” Kyle pressed, grabbing his crutch and leading you into your room. He locked the door behind the both of you, cradling you against him as you shook.

You could hear them.

Cursing. The sound of someone being slammed against the wall. Growling. Shouting. Things breaking.

The smell of angry alpha began to seep under the door.

“Kyle,” you whimpered. He shushed you softly, his lips pressed against your hairline.

It suddenly went quiet.

Hi friends! See you in three days for chapter 32! 🧡🙌🏻

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part eleven

Back to our regularly scheduled chaos 🫶🏻

Warnings: angst, reader is just really down on herself in this one sorry guys, Hotch being so strangely sweet for once, but then Hotch being down on himself (these two are a fucking wreck i wish they'd just TALK IT OUT)

Hotch doesn’t give you the day off after this case, but when you walk into the bullpen the next morning, you wish he had. For no particular reason other than you weren’t able to sleep, and dread seems to have made a home in your bones overnight.

And, of course, everyone notices.

“Oh,” Penelope’s frown looks out of place among her bright outfit. You hate that you’re making her frown. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, flashing her a smile. “Just exhausted.”

She doesn’t seem too satisfied with your answer, but wraps you in a hug all the same. “If you need anything, come see me. Okay?”

You squeeze her tightly. “Thanks, Pen.”

She pulls back and lightly pats your cheek. “Anytime.”

Morgan comes sauntering over with his coffee, eyeing you both cautiously. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Garcia saves you the grief, turning to rest her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Just telling her to come bug me when you guys start boring her to death.”

Derek laughs. “Riiight.”

Garcia heads back to her office with a flourish, something about needing to do her own paperwork to justify all the hacking she did for this last case. You dump your things down at your desk with a sigh.

You try to discreetly look up into Hotch’s office to see if he’s here. When you glance back at Morgan, you see he’s caught you red-handed. 

“Looking for someone?” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, busying yourself with putting your things away. “Is Hotch in yet?”

“Not yet, we’re the early birds today,” Morgan says, propping himself on your desk like he belongs there. “Why?”

I’m trying to avoid him at all costs, why else? “Just curious.”

Morgan hums. “Alright. Well, no, he said he was taking Jack to school this morning, so he’d be in late. You would know that if you didn’t put yourself in time out on the jet yesterday.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna start up that tally again,” Morgan jokes.

“Be my guest,” you mutter through a small smile.

Morgan goes quiet and that scares you, because you know exactly what’s coming next. Goodbye Joking Friend Morgan, hello Serious Big Brother Derek.

“Hey,” he says, leaning toward you. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You nod. If only everyone who says that knew that you can’t. “Yeah. I know.”

“‘Kay. Good.” Derek nods as he slides off your desk, returning to his own and leaving you alone.

Reid whirls into the BAU next, nose in a book, nearly taking himself out when he stumbles into Morgan’s desk. So, a typical morning for him.

JJ and Emily come in next, coffees in hand, having run into each other again on their morning commute.

Rossi next, stopping by your desk to ask how you’re doing. He doesn’t press when you say you’re fine and heads up to his office, leaving you alone.

Then, there’s Hotch, who comes in with his phone pressed to his ear, a frown on his face. He doesn’t even glance toward the center of the bullpen as he practically floats up the stairs into his office, shutting the door.

You share looks with the rest of the team. Reid grimaces. He must’ve read his lips through the office window. He goes back to his book without saying anything.

You return to your paperwork, scanning the text. It’s necessary, and you know why you have to do it, but that doesn’t make any of it less boring.

Next to you, Emily leans back in her chair. “You should join us for coffee tomorrow before work.”

You lift your head, your eyes slowly trailing over to her to make sure she’s talking to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “JJ and I always end up at the same place, we should get there a little early and have breakfast.”

“Uh, hello?” Morgan pipes up, pointing his pencil between himself and Reid. “What about us?”

Emily inhales sharply through her grin. “Sorry, girls only.”

“Alright, I see how it is,” Morgan laughs. He turns to Reid. “Hey kid, wanna get coffee tomorrow?”

“Why?” Reid asks without looking up. “The BAU has free coffee.”

Morgan sighs. “You’re not helping.”

Reid still doesn’t look up, but his lips stretch in that little smirk he always gets when he pushes Morgan’s buttons just for fun.

You turn back to Emily. “I’d love to. Where?”

She lists off the name of the cafe and then pauses, “Oh my god, I need to add you to the group chat.”

“Group chat?” Reid looks up this time. “You guys have a group chat?”

“Girls only,” Emily says again, looking down at her phone.

“Is Garcia in it?” Morgan asks.

“Duh,” Emily replies. “There.”

Your phone buzzes. Emily added you to Women Only. You snort. “Thanks.”

Garcia sends a few hearts and other emojis when she sees you’ve been added to the chat. You laugh quietly before returning to your paperwork, even though you’ve read the same line probably fifty times by now. 

The conversation carries on around you, with Reid even chiming in here and there, but you’re mostly silent. You know it’s unlike you, so you figure it’s a matter of time before one of the profilers calls you out for it.

But they don’t, because they don’t get a chance to.

Hotch calls your name from the second level. You lift your head, eyebrows raising. You find him standing just in the doorway to his office, nodding his head for you to come up.

Just great. Great.

You’re too tired to offer any protests, so you stand immediately, taking your lukewarm coffee with you as you head up the stairs. You don’t need to glance down at the bullpen to know the team’s eyes are on you.

Hotch seems to notice, too, because when you walk into his office, he draws the blinds.

You freeze in the doorway. This can’t be good, if he’s purposefully trying to prevent Reid from lipreading. He normally doesn’t bother.

“Come in,” he says quietly, rounding his desk. “Sit, please.”

You’re being fired. You’re sure of it.

Still, you shut the door, eyeing him warily as you sit across from him. You place your coffee on his desk so you can clasp your hands together.

“So?”

Hotch tilts his head. “So?”

“What’s the reasoning?” you ask. “I’m assuming I’m being transferred or terminated, whatever we’re calling it these days.”

If you aren’t mistaken, his expression seems to soften. Just barely. “I’m not firing you.”

You sit back. “Oh.”

“Why would you think I’m firing you?”

“Why would I not?” you shrug. “We don’t get along, I’ve done nothing but cause problems — that I will admit—”

“Stop,” Hotch almost looks pained as he cuts you off. “Stop. You’re not causing problems by being here.”

You stare at him tiredly. “You know I hate it when you lie to my face.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replies, just as tired. “And I’m not lying now.”

You’re not convinced of either of those things. “Okay.”

He sighs, leaning onto his elbows on his desk. “I know we don’t…get along, as you said, but you are a valuable asset to this team.”

“Hotch, my first two cases, both unsubs have gotten away.”

“Is that what this is about?”

You don’t know. You don’t know what any of this is about. “I guess. Look— I’m just not on top of it today. I’m tired.”

“Do you need to go home?”

You glare at him. “No. I said I’m tired, not that I can’t work.”

“Just clarifying,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair to study you. 

It makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You hate the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t know yet — or that you don’t want to know. Because knowing him, he’ll say it out loud, and then you’ll have to deal with it, and you don’t want to.

You think for a fleeting, terrifying moment that maybe Rossi told him about your father, but Rossi wouldn’t. Right?

“It’s not your fault,” he starts, but he keeps his eyes trained on his desk. “That the unsubs have gotten away. We got Lila back home safely, and that counts for something.”

You hum, uncertain.

“We don’t always catch the unsub,” Hotch continues. “We help where we can, and sometimes that has to be enough.”

“It’s not, though,” you shake your head slowly. “It’s not enough.” You look over at him, that anger still simmering like always. You’re tired, but it doesn’t take much for it to spike again. “I still don’t think we should’ve left them.”

“I did what I thought was right and I stand by—”

“What if it was wrong?”

“I’m not going to sit here and argue what if’s with you,” Hotch snaps, voice firm and tone final. “I don’t have to explain my decisions to you.”

“No,” you reply, pushing yourself to stand up. “But you could at least act like you care about your team’s opinion of you.”

You get to the door before you pause, eyeing the closed blinds. You turn around as you cross your arms over your chest.

“What was it you actually called me in here for?”

Hotch barely shrugs. “I just wanted to check in with you after the conversation we had yesterday.”

You roll your eyes. Highly unlikely that that’s the only thing, but fine. “Sure.”

Hotch sighs tiredly. “Here we go,” he says under his breath.

Might as well tease him. “Just saying,” you give him a wicked look.“You better be careful. Kinda starting to make me think you like me or something.”

He scowls at you. “Go back to work.”

You’re laughing as you leave his office.

+++

Hotch stares at your coffee on the edge of his desk. You forgot to take it with you. He could call you back in here to get it. Or let it get cold and get rid of it later. Or he could take it to you.

He needs a fresh cup anyway.

He grabs his mug in one hand, yours in the other, and heads out of his office. You’re already back at your desk, laughing at something Prentiss said. Hotch feels the corners of his lips trying to tug upward, listening to your laughter. He doesn’t hear it often, especially not like this. Carefree and light. He’s used to the sarcastic, condescending laughter that you usually give him. 

His frown returns with that thought. He’ll never be the cause of this kind of laughter from you. Not as long as you seem to have him at the top of your shit list. It’s been a decade, so he doesn’t expect that to change.

Shaking the thoughts away, he heads down the stairs to drop your mug off on your desk with a silent, “You left this,” like he did with your jacket just over a week ago.

He doesn’t hear you say anything as he strides past you and everyone else to the coffee machine at the edge of the bullpen. 

Hotch loves his team for many things. Their subtlety is not one of them.

He can hear them whispering, all trying to figure out what you and him discussed and why the blinds had to be drawn. None of them believe you when you say it was nothing.

For what Hotch had originally planned, yes, the blinds needed to be drawn. He wanted privacy to ask you about your father.

But how was he supposed to bring up your father when your first thought was that you were being fired? When your first thought is that you’re doing more harm than good by being here?

Regardless of how much pleasure you seem to find in pushing his buttons, he couldn’t let a member of his team go without addressing those kinds of thoughts. You’re a valuable addition to this team. If you weren’t, you never would’ve been hired by Strauss, let alone by him.

It’s bad luck, sure, that these last two cases haven’t ended the way they’d like. But that’s no one’s fault, and certainly not yours alone. It just happens. They can’t save everyone, solve every case quickly and easily. Nothing is neat and tied in a bow in this field. He needs you to understand that. Because if you don’t, you won’t survive. 

And he needs you to survive.

Hotch turns around to head back to his office, pausing to raise an eyebrow when his team scrambles cartoon-style to “act natural” — as if he has no clue they weren’t watching him.

He loves this team, he does. He shakes his head as he walks around them.

He feels your eyes on him, though, as he ascends the stairs. He glances down at you and you avert your eyes masterfully. If he didn’t know you so well, he wouldn’t have known you were watching him.

Hotch is too busy looking at you to notice Rossi has stepped out of his own office, and the older man gives Hotch an equally skeptical look when Hotch nearly crashes into him.

Rossi follows Hotch into his office, shutting the door behind him.

“What’s with all the secrecy today?” Rossi asks, gesturing to the closed blinds, tugging one down with a smirk as he makes eye contact with Prentiss. He lets it snap back into place.

“Nothing,” Hotch replies, settling back down at his desk. “You can open them.”

Rossi doesn’t.

Instead, he stands in front of Aaron’s desk, hands shoved in his pockets. “Did you tell her?”

“She’s still here, so obviously I didn’t,” Hotch mutters, looking up at his friend. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Rossi says, turning to open the blinds.

Unsurprisingly, the entire team, except for you, is caught in their attempted eavesdropping. Rossi laughs as he turns back around to face Aaron.

“Warn me before you do? I’d like some time to prepare to get out of here before you get a chair thrown in your face,” Rossi says.

Hotch stares at him. A chair will be the least of his worries when he eventually confronts you.

His eyes flick to you down in the bullpen, focused and content, swatting Morgan away when he tries to toss balls of paper at your head. Hotch doesn’t want to ruin this, the joy you’ve found here. 

But ever since the first day you met, that’s all Hotch has known how to do. Say the wrong thing and make you hate him. Over and over. 

It’s no wonder you push his buttons so much and fight so hard to get under his skin. It’s not like he can’t understand. It’s a vicious cycle with the two of you, and there’s no way out.

At least not one where no one gets hurt.

[2handsslan]

franco colapinto // fc43 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

mystery kisser - @mywritersmind

“you didn’t expect your ex to be there. you’re on a girls night out, trying to forget the cheater! spontaneity is supposed to be on the list. you check it off one drink in when you grab a random man and ask him to kiss you”

no exit - @clara-a7

“you run into your ex franco at the paddock in monaco”

stranger, danger and vanilla swirl - @lvrclerc

“the night you met franco colapinto involved stealing, melted ben & jerry's, blunt honesty, and kissing a complete stranger, because you were pretty sure you were never going to see him again. except, by morning, you do see him again, and he looks way more familiar this time around”

entre cada palabra- @dreamauri

“it's your aneversairy dinner with colapinto, this year you wanted to gift him something special: speaking his language”

and… by uber i mean texting my boyfriend franco - @cheriladycl01

“in which you always seem to use your boyfriend as a convenient uber and the media start to pick up on it”

flirt - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

“franco is notorious for his flirting abilities, but maybe he's met someone who can play him at his own game”

clumsy - @purinfelix

“being a mechanic is a tough enough job - but with a driver like franco who can be oh so distracting, sometimes it feels impossible”

beautiful stranger - @purinfelix

“as your city's turn to host a Formula One race rolls around, you're not surprised when your usual morning commute is disrupted. the arrival of an unexpectedly charming face, however, takes you by surprise”

from raya to rivalry - @julietsf1

“carlos sainz's little sister is pushed to the limit when rookie franco colapinto, who stood her up after a flirtatious encounter on raya, re-enters her life—without any sign he remembers her at all. between race weekends and time with friends the tension between them becomes impossible to ignore. will franco finally remember why she’s been driving him mad all along?”

the secret admirer - @julietsf1

“y/n thought the biggest challenge this season would be her dynamic with her cold teammate, but mysterious notes and gifts start to complicate things. who’s behind it, and what happens when she finds out?”

fiesta 4 u - @joaosnovia

series

i know who you are, you’ll be fine - @formula-ghost

“becoming franco colapinto’s social media manager could be the end of your career, or the beginning of the love story you never thought you’d have”

smau

mi vida - @n0vazsq

“what's better than one chaotic f1 driver? two! and that's the story of how you got together with your boyfriend, franco”

match made in heaven - @spiderbeam

“you’re a professional golfer. he’s a formula one driver. it’s just franco’s luck that your dad happens to be big a fan of his”

reserve driver syndrome - @spiderbeam

“two replacement drivers turned reserve drivers are in desperate need for some media training”

pr nightmare - @landoughnut

“you and franco being menaces on your social media accounts”

what’s a soft launch? - @piastrisun

“childhood friends, slowburn or… maybe just an slowburn for everyone else except for you two”

challenge accepted - @hugleclerc

“franco flirting with one of the drivers's sister and she never says anything until she starts flirting back and her brother just freaks out!!”

phone theft to f1 wag pipeline - @empyrealix

“charles and carlos accidentally steal your phone. chaos is bound to ensue as you meet franco during the race charles invited you to as an apology for the phone theft he committed”

*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*

[latenightdaydreams]

I have an idea that Konig was kicked out of his old apartment because his last deployment was last for years and he decided to find another place to rent a share apartment. When he opened his new apartment's door to move in, reader accidently greeted him with the biggest squirt in his life that he's ever seen =)))) (like reader didn't know he'd move in that day)

I love it, a great way to start off a new lease😈

Roommates (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

Part 2 Part 3

>cw: fem/afab, masturbation

1.5k word count

.

.

Coming back after four years of being deployed, he was greeted with a huge pile of mail. Plopping his body in his desk chair, he began to look for a new place to live. That when he finds you listing. Pets are okay, no smoking, and only one other roommate. The apartment was in a nice area too. Without going to look at the place, König messaged the tenant to apply for the available room.

When you posted the ad, you didn’t add that you’re a woman. You didn’t want people applying just to be creeps or to get harassed. When König’s application comes in, you think it sounds too good to be true. Older man, no pets, doesn’t smoke, is military so he would be deployed for months at a time, maybe years, and willing to divide the rent 40/60, him covering the larger half, since he said he is paid well. It was an incentive König was hoping would help inspire you and make you pick him since the spot was perfect for what he needs.

Flipping back and forth between König’s application and this woman your age, you feel torn. The woman would make a fun roommate, but she is a struggling artist and you don’t want to be put in a situation where you’re paying full rent WITH a roommate.

König on the other hand, while he is a man, will be gone most of the time and is willing to pay more meaning you’d be able to set aside money and finally save some.  It’s a selfish reason, but times are hard right now.

You send back a response message to König to tell him that he’s got the room. You send him the move-in date and where to pick up the key. Instantly you get a message back saying he will be about a week late to move in but will send you the money now. You phone chimes and you see your Venmo with his portion of the rent. Feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, you go back to cleaning up the apartment.

Two weeks pass and König gets back from his mission a week earlier than expected. He walks past the boxes of his belongings stacked along the wall of his office. His shoulders slumped over, exhausted from all of his recent travels. He sits at his desk, pulling off his sniper hood and opens up the email with all of the information about his new living situation. Leaning back, he lets out a deep sigh and looks at the time. Figuring it was too late he decided to wait until tomorrow to move in.

The next morning you wake up a little after 9am and make yourself breakfast. You check your emails to see if there has been any word from König. Nothing. After you eat breakfast you sit on the living room couch, wasting time. Since today is your day off you planned on getting some chores done, but you have other things on your mind.

Quickly, you stand from the couch and go to your room. Opening up your underwear drawer you grab a black bag of goodies. You open it up and pull out your favorite silicon toy before going to the kitchen sink to wash. The hot guy from your commute to work everyday comes to mind as you begin to daydream about him naked, kissing you, touching you, fucking you...

Drying off your dildo and walking back to the living room couch, you pull the throw blanket from the back of your couch and lay it down as a makeshift towel. You pull down your pants and underwear before laying back on the couch. Your fingers go to gently rub your clit while you close your eyes and begin to day dream.

Him kissing your neck lightly as his fingers circle your clit, leg twitching as you moan to him. His fingers slowly inching lower and pushing into your tight little cunt. His fingers pumping in and out quickly as he moves his lips to yours; his mouth devouring your moans. His other hand moves to your breast and begins to lightly tug at your nipple.

You open your eyes for a second and remove your fingers from your cunt and rub your arousal on the blanket underneath you. Moving your hand from your breast, you reach over and grab your dildo from the coffee table. You move yourself so you can get more comfortable, rubbing your dildo over your wet folds. Letting out a sigh, you lean back and close your eyes again.

His naked body looms over you as he rubs his erection over your wet little pussy. His hand reaches back out and begins to rub your nipple.

“You ready y/n?”

You let out a soft yes before he shoves his cock inside of you slowly, inch by inch. He begins to thrust into you quickly, the sound of your loud moans filling the room. His hand moving off of your breast so he can fuck you quicker. You reach out gripping the bedsheets and pulling them as your legs begin to tremble from his cock hitting your g-spot over and over…

König decided to only grab his duffle bag full of clothes and a few boxes for his first trip. He will be off the next few days so he has time to go back and grab his stuff, take his time moving in. He walks out to his SUV and loads up the trunk with five boxes. Sitting down, he puts the address into his GPS and begins to take off.

The building was nice, there was a park nearby and it was 40 minutes from base. That gave him a sense of privacy. He parks his SUV at the front, pulls his sniper hood off, and walks inside to go to the building manager. He welcomes König and hands him the key to the apartment that you left for him two weeks ago.

“Danke.” König takes the key and begins to walk back to his SUV to grab two boxes.

Apartment 304. König walks up the stairs and gets to his floor. He looks around the hall, doors with cute welcoming mats and small seasonal decorations giving the complex a nice homely vibe.

Your eyes still closed and hand behind your head holding on to the couch cushion as your legs are spread wide open. Your 7-inch dildo moving quickly in and out of you as you moan out, but quietly enough that the neighbors can’t hear. One of your feet moves to the coffee table to spread your legs open even more, back arching as you get close to release.

König gets to the front door, holding his boxes in one arm as he opens the front door. He hears your moans and the sound of the dildo in your pussy before you begin to squirt. His eyes glued to your pussy as he watches the impressive stream leaving you. His jaw drops and he accidently drops one of the boxes. He looks down at the box and then back up at you to see you open your eyes and look at him.

You freeze as you realize your door is open and a giant man is just standing there. You assume it’s König, but he wasn’t supposed to be here for another week. You feel as if your heart is going to explode. Your face is hot with embarrassment. Before anyone can say anything, you pull your dildo out, get up and run to the bedroom.

König stands there looking at the wet spot on the blanket and the wet mess on the floor. Your pants and underwear tossed onto the other end of the couch. He takes a deep breath and picks up the box on the ground before walking further into the apartment. He closes the door behind him and just stands there awkwardly with a boner.

You’re in your room dying of embarrassment. You don’t know what to do, you can’t face him now. Not after that. You put on underwear and pants to open your door and yell out.

“Your bedroom is the last room down the hall to the left!” Thankfully on the other side of the apartment from yours.

“Okay, thank you!” He yells back.

He walks towards his room, his eyes lingering on the mess you left behind for a moment. Finally, he makes it to his bedroom door. He opens it to see a queen size bed and two dressers. The window is letting in the bright sun. He drops his boxes on the floor and sits on the bed, looking around the room for a while.

He can’t stop replaying the scene of you squirting over and over in his mind. His hand wandered to his boner instinctively. You’re his new roommate, he doesn’t want to start the relationship off by jerking off to you. Yet, he can’t seem to stop himself as he unzips his pants and pulls them down enough to release his cock. He closes his eyes and replays your sounds and the moment over and over as he strokes his cock.

Part 2 Part 3

[hopelesswrites]

Double Shot Extra Sweet

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: your restless heart finally settles down when a grumpy man enters your work for his morning coffee.

Note: shes longer, shes got an age gap, shes got potential for more? (Let me know how you feel about this plz)

-

Being the new girl in a workplace wasn’t unnatural for you. You had jumped from job to job for the past year, never being able to settle into one place. You passed it off as a quarter life crisis. Every decision you made seemed to be a result of this crisis, you had moved cities and changed degrees, all because one day after turning 25 you had a hunch you were on the wrong path. A year later and you were in this big new city, on your third cafe job because the other two didn’t vibe with you.

This place however was looking promising. It was a small shop sandwiched between a laundromat and a news stand. The owner Emma was a bubbly older woman with red cat eye glasses and long red acrylics. You learned quite quickly just by the decor of the cafe she was a big fan of cats. Despite the tacky cat shaped clock and the “good meowning” doormat the shop was tastefully designed. It was warm and inviting much like going to your grandmother’s house for tea. The part of the shop you loved the most though was the small free library box out the front. You had taken a small romance book the day you went in for your interview, noting the out of place “theoretical physics” book and a biography on Carl Gauss.

Your first week on the job went by quickly and you seemed to adjust to the clientele easily, most being early morning professionals on their commute to work.

In addition, you quickly decided your co-worker Charlotte would be your new best friend, so after the first rush hour of the morning you both got back to chatting about your lives.

“I swear to god, my brain has been so muddled lately, my classes are so difficult, and I can’t believe I had to ask Mr Wilson 3 times what milk he wanted, I just can’t concentrate its getting concerning” you rambled just as a tall man approached the counter.

“Good morning! What can I get you today?” You spoke happily, noticing the frown etched onto the man’s face. It deepened when he looked around the cafe then back at you.

“Is Lisa not working today?” He asked, ignoring your question. You frowned back at him, noticing how increasingly uncomfortable he was getting.

“I’m sorry, she moved back home to look after her father, but you’ve got me most mornings, I promise I make a good coffee” you encouraged, hoping this man didn’t become your first upset customer at this new job.

He seemed to take a moment to think, eyeing you cautiously before giving you his order. You carefully inputted the order into the till before pulling out a cup.

“Name for the order?” You asked, raking through a list of names you think this guy could possibly have.

Richard? No

Steve? Absolutely not

Lucas? Maybe..

“Spencer”

You raised your eyebrow at him, not what you expected, but it suited him.

“Won’t be too long Spencer” you motioned for him to wait to the side of the counter while you made his coffee. You quietly observed him while you worked. He stood so stiffly, looking around the room as if to look busy. He was older, at least in his late 30s and had the sharpest jawline you think you had ever seen. Somehow, his strong bone structure was softened with fluffy curls framing his face. Honestly, you thought he was gorgeous, if only he loosened the scrunch he seemed to permanently have between his eyebrows.

“Spencer?” You called, sliding his coffee towards him on the counter. His head snapped towards you, frown not slipping as he reached out for it. You watched him inspect the cup, you made sure the lid was on tight, no spills. He took a tentative sip, you can practically see the cogs turning in his head, deciding if you were worthy of the job, making his morning coffee.

“Good?” You asked, suddenly a wave of nerves washing over you.

Spencer looked at you, and you swear you saw the line between his brows twitch and the corners of his lips turn up a tad.

“Yeah good, thanks” he answered before leaving.

For the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking about Spencer. You had a deep desire to know everything about him, but in the same thought, you loved the mystery, it almost made him hotter.

He looked bookish, his old man cardigan giving him an English teacher vibe, but he had this look in his eyes that told you he didn’t spend all day talking about Shakespeare. You also noted his need for routine, your presence this morning obviously throwing him off. You hoped you had proven yourself worthy of being a part of his routine though, because you could get used to him being a part of yours.

-

The following day Spencer returned, instead of a cardigan he had on a brown blazer, one of those ones with the patches on the elbows, it was a cute look you thought.

As you suspected, Spencer was all business, sticking to his routine, same coffee order, stood in the same spot to the side of the counter, you were sure he even looked around the room in the same methodical way he did the day before.

You called his name out, he took a sip, he told you it was good and then he left.

This went on for the rest of your week, and it was this daily interaction that had you deciding you were in the right job finally. You woke up and were finally excited to go to work, you just wanted to see that grumpy older man.

Naturally, you started to romanticise the interactions, you were just a girl after all, a hopeless romantic who lived vicariously through the couples in romance novels. You could already picture the ao3 tags if this were a fanfiction. #agegapromance #grumpymmc #cafemeetcute.

The first day Spencer didn’t show up was the following Wednesday, and you declared it the worst day of your life. In fact, your headache returned the second the clock ticked 8am and your favourite grumpy troubled English teacher hadn’t walked through the door. You held your breath for another 10 minutes, maybe he was running late, and he would rush in hair dishevelled, tie askew, face flushed. But you were left disappointed for the rest of your day.

Thursday was much the same, in fact, Thursday had you writing up your resignation letter in your head, clearly this job wasn’t right for you.

Come Friday you were well and truly ready to admit yourself into the emergency room. Your headache was almost excruciating, you couldn’t muster a single smile for your customers. So, when it was well past 9am, the morning work commuters were at their respective jobs and the door chimed your frown stuck in place, you barely looked up when the customer walked up to the counter.

“Are you still getting that headache?” The man spoke, snapping you back into reality.

“Excuse me?” You looked up at Spencer, eyes wide. He was here, and your life had purpose again!

“You said you were getting headaches last week and you look in pain, I thought maybe you were still getting them”

You barely acknowledged the fact that Spencer had been listening to your conversation with Charlotte or that he could tell you were actively fighting a headache right then, all you could think about was he was here, in the softest looking sweater vest, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked incredible, a real life angel.

“Probably just not drinking enough water” you brush it off, pulling out a cup from your stack and writing Spencers order on the side.

“Headaches can also be caused by lifestyle choices, high stress and anxiety, bad diet and even posture” Spencer explained. This was the most you’d ever heard him speak. His voice was like velvet, you thought if he was one of your college professors you would have no trouble learning your course content.

“Is my posture bad?” You asked suddenly insecure, pulling your shoulders back a bit on instinct.

“Not the worst, but if you’re studying and hunched over a desk all day that could cause your headaches”

You didn’t know how to explain your headache had suddenly disappeared in his return and it was obviously psychological, so you nodded in agreement.

Still, curious, you wanted to prod for more information on his whereabouts, his addition to your routine becoming increasingly important to you.

“Where have you been all week? I was starting your think you found another barista”

Spencer looked up at you, eyes wide at the continuation of conversation, obviously assuming your exchange would end at the headaches.

“I sometimes have to go away for work”

Curious, you thought. What English teacher travels for work? Maybe he was a guest lecturer at universities.

“I’ve been trying to guess what you do for work” you chuckle while you popped the lid on his drink.

“And? What have you come up with?”

You take a moment to consider your answer. “One guess a day, no hints. My original thought was English teacher, you look studious”

A small smile crept its way onto Spencers face. He took the drink straight from your hand this time. “Not an English teacher, better luck next week”

Spencer had long left the cafe before it hit you, he knew your work schedule. He knew you didn’t work weekends.

Those 2 days off were excruciating. You couldn’t wait to see Spencer Monday morning. You had so many ideas in your head. He seemed to know about headaches which had you thinking about what medical professionals travel for work.

When Spencer returned you wasted no time. “Do I get to know what circumstances you’re travelling for?”

Spencer smirked, “you’re the one that said no hints”

You huffed in annoyance but continued your routine in making Spencers drink. “Fine, brain surgeon”

Spencer scoffed, “not a brain surgeon, no”

You shrugged your shoulders, “maybe you’re a highly awarded brain surgeon and have to travel to different hospitals to perform high risk operations” you felt the need to justify your decision. Spencer smiled at you, “no it’s a good guess”

Tuesday you tried for architect, which puzzled Spencer, you had to explain he gave off a prestigious aura, “you look like you could measure walls with just your eyes” you told him.

“I am very good with numbers” he replied. You had to scold him for giving you an unwarranted hint but kept numbers in mind.

The rest of the week was the same. “Engineer” “no” “data analyst” “no”. you were getting frustrated, and you felt no closer to knowing Spencer than you were that first day.

The following Monday you spotted Spencer outside the cafe, he had stopped at the library box. You watched him put a book in and take one out, stuffing it under his arm before entering the store. You recognised the book immediately; it was an old textbook of yours that you had bought for your course. You only donated it to the library because you had bought the latest edition and didn’t need that one anymore.

“I didn’t take you for an archaeology kind of guy” you joked, pointing at the book.

“I find it fascinating actually, the study of archaeological context has aided in solving many cold case murders”

“I know, it’s my book, I’m studying forensic archaeology” you laughed. Spencer quirked a brow, “how are you enjoying it?”

“It’s fun actually, I like that I feel like I’m actually going to make a difference with my career one day”

Spencer nodded along, obviously wanting to say something else but bites his tongue. “You haven’t had your guess today”

You rolled your eyes, already getting fed up with your own game. You were about to make your guess when Spencers phone chimed. He pulled it out of his coat and frowned at the screen, the first frown you’d seen from him since that first week.

“I’m sorry, I have to go” Spencer rushed, taking his drink from you. “I’ll be away for a couple days, by the way” He gave you a sad smile, “keep working on your guess, I know you’ll figure it out” and then he was gone.

Your world felt like it slowed right down, and you had been forced back to reality. The rest of the week dragging on. Work, no Spencer, late night lectures, sleep, repeat. Come Saturday Charlotte had decided you were going out clubbing to forget “that nerdy dilf” as she put it. You had to explain to her that the ‘nerdy dilf’ was actually a super complex and interesting man who you were growing very fond of seeing every day. This didn’t help your case, and she declared you needed “dick your own age”

Safe to say you were not excited to go out.

The club was one of the bigger venues in town, one of those places with booths you could hire out and bottle service, not exactly your crowd. Charlotte on the other hand was having a blast and had found a group of guys to flirt with. They had their own booth right by the door, you saw them as you walked in, they were observing the room like a bunch of creeps hunting for prey. Carmen seemed to be the ringleader and found a keen interest in Charlotte, his friend Jesse deciding to take on the challenge of flirting with you. There was one other guy who had a girl you didn’t know latched to his hip, Charlotte said her name was Angela, she was clearly wasted and could barely stand, but seemed comfortable enough with the guys, you assumed they knew each other.

The night seemed to drag on and Jesse seemed to get increasingly pushy. You were ready to leave and excused yourself to grab Charlotte, you watched as Carmen noticed you approaching the two and gestured towards Jesse who was close behind you. Before you realised what was happening you were being grabbed from around the waist and dragged over to the door. The man with Angela was already by the door and you watched him disappear into the street with her cluelessly following.

“What are you doing?” You struggled in Jesses grip, looking over to Charlotte for help, she had her head on Carmens chest struggling to keep her eyes open.

It suddenly hit you, were you being kidnapped right now?

You screamed, not caring how big of a scene you caused before a hand was pressed firmly to your mouth. You continued to struggle as you were dragged away, no one seeming to notice. You reached out for Charlotte, just about reaching her shoulder with your fingertips as she was guided out behind you.

Your looked around hoping someone, anyone would notice when a loud voice screamed “Hey!” in your direction. A man rushed over and began to scream, pulling Jesse aside, his grip loosening on you allowing you to slip out of his arms.

“What are you doing with those girls?” The man yelled over the music, causing a couple more heads to turn. You rushed over to Charlotte, but Carmen pulled out a gun, facing it at your head.

More voices echoed around the room as security guards surrounded you.

“Let me go man” Jesse tried to get away, but the original man pinned him to the wall.

Before anyone else could make a move Carmens arm redirected its aim, and one shot fired straight above your head towards the man who had Jesse. Another shot went off as a guard tried to pull Charlotte away, this one was closer to your ear and a ringing echoed through your head. You felt something wet hit your face, but shock had completely set in. There was more commotion before both men ran out of the venue, leaving you and Charlotte standing there.

You don’t remember moving but at some point, you were guided back into the club and into a back room, a manager’s office. A woman crouched down in front of you and began to speak but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying. You had never witnessed a shooting before, you’d never seen someone die before. You knew the guard that was beside you had died, you figured that out when you touched your face and realised it was his blood splattered across your cheek.

A nudge to the arm pulled you out of your daze and you looked over at your friend. “The lady says we need to stay and speak to some FBI agents, okay?” You could only manage a weak nod.

You don’t know how long it took but the door to the office opened and in walked two pairs of feet. You didn’t bother looking up, but you knew these were the agents you had to give your statement to. You wondered how serious this had been for the FBI to be involved.

The man with black leather shoes on approached Charlotte and began to speak, you weren’t listening, but you watched as he guided her out of the room. The other man stood in front of you his voice sending blood rushing up to your ears, you knew that voice.

He crouched down, resting a hand gently on your knee and looked up into your eyes.

Spencer.

He had on a navy blue button up shirt with a navy vest strapped to his torse, big letters reading FBI over his chest. His hair was as fluffy as always and he had that crease between his eyebrows again, a stern but sad look on his face.

“Hey, you” He spoke softly once you confirmed your recognition in the form of a struggled smile. All your emotions washed over you at once and the tears began to fall freely down your cheeks.

Spencer squeezed your knee rubbing his thumb soothingly in a back-and-forth motion. “You’re okay, you’re okay” He whispered taking his other hand and swiping away tears that were only replaced by more.

“I would have never guessed FBI” was all you could think to say, overwhelmed with the entire situation. Here you were after almost being kidnapped and the FBI agent gently rubbing your knee and swiping away tears was your ‘nerdy dilf’ work crush!?

Spencer let out a small laugh, “are you crying because you couldn’t guess my job?”

You laughed back, “no I’m crying because I was almost kidnapped tonight”

Spencers face went serious again, “I’m sorry, I do have to ask you a few questions about that, is that okay?” You nodded your head and allowed Spencer to sit beside you. He reached over for something and returned with a wet rag, gently wiping away the blood from your face while he asked you his questions.

The moment was so tender you wished it hadn’t been tainted by the memory of the men from earlier. Spencer asked you what time you got to the club, what you remembered seeing when you entered, what you knew about the men and what you knew about Angela.

“Are you going to get Angela back?” You asked once he had finished, feeling more childlike than every under his stare.

“We’re going to try, I promise I will get those men though”

You trusted him, Spencer didn’t seem like the type of person to make promises lightly. There was a darkness in the way he said it, like he was haunted by every promise from his past he couldn’t keep.

The other agent returned with Charlotte and pulled Spencer aside to talk. You watched and waited for your next instruction as Spencer returned back to you. “I’m going to have Officer Berkley drive you both home, another Officer will be stationed outside both your apartments in case these men are stalking you” Spencer shot off orders in that stern tone he used when you first met him. You felt ashamed of the thoughts running through your head at this time, and a quick glance from Charlotte let you know she knew exactly what was on your mind.

He was just so hot.

English teacher was sexy, but this? This was insanity.

Before you were escorted outside Spencer pulled you aside slipping a card in your hand. “Call me if there’s any issues, okay?” He gave your hand a quick squeeze before strutting out of the room in search for his partner.

-

Sunday dragged on, you watched your window anxiously, making sure the officer in charge of protecting you was still there. You and Charlotte had both taken the Monday off work, being advised to stay in your homes until they caught the men. All you wanted was to know what was going on. Spencer wouldn’t tell you anything that Saturday night and neither would the officer who drove you home. You wondered how Angela was, had they killed her? How many other women had they kidnapped?

Monday night you were just about to get into bed when a knock at your door interrupted your nightly routine. Your heart felt like it stopped, what if it was one of them. A quick glance out your window had your worries increasing, the officer wasn’t in his car.

“Miss, are you in there” You heard his voice from outside, followed by another knock.

You opened the door to see the man assigned to your protection.

“Feds caught the guys; I’m just letting you know you’re safe and that I’m heading home” He looked tired, and you began to feel bad for the job he had to do.

Once he had left you quickly shot Charlotte a quick text to make sure she was okay and went back to bed. In bed your eyes were locked on the little card you had placed on your bedside table the night before. Spencer told you to call in case of an emergency, but you needed to know if he was okay. He had been out there tracking down the men that tried to kidnap you, men that were violent and had already shot two other people, what if he got hurt?

Before you could think too much about your decision you pulled your phone out and dialled the number, clicking call immediately so you wouldn’t psych yourself out of it. The phone rung and your heart pounded heavier and heavier with each second that passed.

“Dr Spencer Reid speaking” That sweet voice echoed through the speaker. He sounded softer over the phone; you wondered if he was home now and also in bed.

“Hello?” He spoke again, pulling you out of your daze.

“Spencer” You answered, suddenly lost for words.  

Spencer repeated your name back to you, “We arrested those men, Angela is safe”

“I know, the officer told me, are you okay?”

There was a silence before Spencer answered, “I’m fine, why do you ask?”

“Those men were dangerous, I was worried”

Spencer let out a breathy chuckle, “I’m fine, thank you for checking up on me” another beat of silence. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am now” hearing his voice had instantly calmed you, and you finally felt tired enough to sleep.

“You should get some rest, ill see you tomorrow?”

Your heart fluttered, “Yeah, see you tomorrow Spencer” You hung up the phone, smiling ear to ear, if Charlotte could see you right now, she would absolutely tease you to no end. But you were too happy to care, you were safe, you loved your new job, you love your degree and you got to see Spencer, your very sexy FBI agent nerdy dilf every morning.

[xxsteveharringtonxx]

Ditto

Steve Harrington x Reader

You had known Steve all through high school, you were even part of his little click when he was King Steve. You got ditched along with Tommy and Carol but you weren’t like them, Steve knew that and he felt a little bad leaving you behind. But that’s high school you guess and now looking back it seemed so long ago.

He had heard (quite reassuringly) that you’d stopped hanging out with them after some party in senior year where Tommy thought it would be funny to throw you into the pool.

Everyone knows you can’t swim, right?

Surely Steve wasn’t the only one that paid that much attention to you.

A specific memory he had of you was in junior year when he was on the swim team, you’d always wait around for him to finish practise for a ride home but you wouldn’t go anywhere near the water edge.

You had bumped into each other again at Star Court too a few years ago, a stripey top and funny hat adorning his head. It had been the first time you really saw him since graduation.

“Nice uniform.” You had quipped with a scoff and fond smile. Leaning against your car door as he walked from his own.

He had look you up and down, slowly from head to toe, taking in your white paper hat, yellow and white checked dress and white tennis shoes. You were clearly waitressing in the diner up on the food court.

“Ditto.” He had retaliated with a smirk before walking off, hair perfectly placed and his shoulders shaking as he laughed at himself walking in.

Over the years you had then obviously seen each other across town, Family Video mostly, sometimes at the pool if it was warm enough and you both had time off work.

But now most recently as you’re both nearly 24 it was in The Hideout.

He was friends with Eddie Munson now, truly reformed King Steve.

Tonight The Hideout was particularly busy and you waved over to Robin as you were stuck chatting with some random guy a few years above you in school.

His name totally lost on you as your focus was stolen by Steve.

As usual.

She grinned and waved back before grabbing hold of a reluctant Steve and dragged them both over to where you were.

“Hey!” She greeted hugging you tight, you greeted them both, extending a hug to Steve too.

His fingers lingered a little on your waist and you looked up at him hopeful, a glimmer of something as your eyes met. The two beers you’d had giving you the false bravado to give him a grin, suggestive and flirty.

“Hi Steve.” You chirped happily and hadn’t even noticed the guy you were talking to sulk off with a pout.

“Hi honey.” He replied, a name he had given you in high school, said because you were always sickly sweet to him and back then the casual flirting was nothing.

Now it gave you butterflies and a smitten smile you’d tuck under your teeth to try and hide.

“Eddie playing tonight?” You asked looking between them for an answer.

“Yeah and Robin has dragged me out on a double date.” Steve grumbled with an eye roll.

You were slapped cold all of a sudden and it was a sweat box in this place.

“You’re here on a date?” You asked as if making him realise what he had even just said., your head titled to the side and taking a step back from him in disappointment.

He definitely didn’t want you to think he was on a date, or interested in dating.

Well, dating anyone but you that is.

“Oh uh, yeah but not really it’s just-“ he was cut off by Robin grabbing his arm again with excitement.

“They’re here! Come on let’s get a drink!” She dragged him off again in a flash and you were left red cheeked and pouting.

Blinking out of the hurt you looked around for your friends, you had met them at college, staying close to Hawkins you would commute to campus and they became your best friends.

Rejoining them you couldn’t help but be distracted, the girl Steve was on a date with was blonde, on the younger side and definitely interested in him. Giving him the same smitten grin you probably were when he first got here.

She was laughing at all his jokes, which you knew were lame but you knew why she was laughing.

You do the exact same.

Looking away back to your friends distracted you while Eddie was on stage, one of them crushing on him bad. He was good you have to give him that and when he threw you a wink your friends squealed latching onto your arm.

“I’ll introduce you come on!” You had said a few hours later, Eddie and Steve currently sitting in the booth they claimed.

Robin, her date and Steve’s date were dancing to the next band.

“Hey pretty!” Eddie greeted jumping up and hugging you.

He’d become one of the coolest guys you knew, and he definitely wasn’t The Freak anymore.

“Hey! You were amazing up there! My friend Sasha is a huge fan, Sasha this is Eddie we went to high school together and you know Steve you met him before.” You introduced nicely and Eddie took an immediate interest in Sasha.

“You’re like so cool, I wish I could play an instrument.” She gushed instantly.

“Well it’s not that hard princess, want me to teach you? It’s all about the fingers.” He purred making her giggle and drag him to the bar.

“Hey you want some air?” Steve asked you standing up and putting a hand on your lower back. You were once again completely taken by him, he was looking down at you for an answer, his cologne wrapping you in his familiar warm presence.

“Sure!” You followed him outside to the small seating area, nowhere near enough heaters but Steve sat down close enough to keep you pretty much on fire with his presence, but he sat down with a huff clearly enjoying the fresh air and being away from the groups.

“What’s up Stevie? Not having fun?” You asked a little teasingly and with a small nudge of your shoulders.

“Not really.” He confessed making you look down at your lap, fingers picking at nails. “You look pretty tonight.” He followed up quickly and you could feel him watching you, waiting for a reaction.

“Steve.” You groaned trying to hide your smile and it made him laugh out loud, you felt his laugh rumble through him you were sitting that close.

“You know you’re pretty, but you look especially pretty right now.” He reaffirmed and you looked up at him.

“You’re on a date right now.” You reminded and he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t care honey.” He reassured. “I was hoping you weren’t here tonight, you are literally the last person on earth, I want knowing I was doing Robin this favour.” He told you honestly and the excitement burst in your chest.

The years of flirting and tip toeing around the attraction seemingly becoming real.

“You finally admitting you like me Harrington?” You joked knowing everyone teased you both throughout high school, your late teens and early twenties being taken up by much the same but it was a little less jokey.

“Depends.” He teased making you glare at him mockingly, a glint in your eyes that he swore in that moment to himself he’d never get bored of.

“Depends on what?” You played along.

“On whether you’re admitting to liking me too.” He laughed and you smiled right up at him.

“Oh right. Well, if you’re playing that game I’ve liked you since we were freshmen, actually I think specifically it was when you told Tommy to fuck off because he pulled my hair all the way back in middle school.” Steve laughed at the memory before looking at you and nodding slowly.

“Ditto.” He whispered leaning down slightly and lowering his gaze to your lips.

“You gonna kiss me now?” You asked hopeful making him smile at your impatience.

“Oh yeah, I’m going to kiss you now honey.” And with that his lips met yours, gently and softly making you warm all over.

When he finally pulled away you rolled your lips into your mouth before smiling.

“Finally.” You told him happily.

[yumecel]

Ignorance is bliss 💙

yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 1.5k words

summary: you always felt something was off about the man you see on the train.

specifics: absolute creep neuvillette, OOC, modern AU

reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever

tws: yandere, stalking, nonconsensual touching, molestation, s/a

Part 1 of Pervert Neuvillette.

[ReadMe 🔗] [1 📍]

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

You’ve always made a conscious effort to avoid sitting next to the man you always see on the commuter train. Something unsettling surrounds his presence.

Others don’t seem to think so. This is in spite of the fact that he sticks out like a sore thumb, briefcase on his lap, blemishless skin, flawlessly styled white hair, immaculately dressed in suits that change daily, but are always various shades of blue. Around him, the bustle of the general public- more restless, more disheveled- fades into the background. He looks so out of place to you, the kind of person that could definitely afford a taxi, yet you see him almost daily on your morning commute.

And you swear he stares at you.

You try to avoid looking at him.

He gets on one stop after you. Of course, there’s nothing odd about regularly seeing someone on public transportation. He does, however, seem to share the same carriage as you a lot. And perhaps that’s also by coincidence, the regularity of what end of the platform you end up standing on. He’s consistent. So are you. You can’t rationalise going out of your way to avoid the man.

You’d come to regret this.

One morning, the train is packed. Not the most abnormal thing in the world, but definitely a mundane inconvenience to grit your teeth through until you get out. Slipping your bag off your shoulder, you place it front of yourself and shuffle onto the train. You’re forced to stand near one of the doors, watching as the last few available seats are filled.

The next stop, you watch as people get off the train, more waiting outside to get on. Any seats that are freed are quickly filled, and you place yourself into a corner as people begin to step on. You turn yourself so your back faces the open doors, trying to protect your bag just in case. It’s a position that feels safe. Until it doesn’t.

Someone is pressing into your back. Unsurprising, considering how another gaggle of people just boarded. But this body behind you seems to be pressing up against you more deliberately, hot breath tickling your neck. There’s no way to reposition yourself, and you know you have to be understanding of strangers in times like these. All you do is clutch your bag in front of you a little tighter, reaching out to a handrail by your side so that you can steady yourself.

You hear your own name from directly behind you.

Your first thought is that you’re imagining things. It’s a male voice, deep and rich, and certainly not recognisable as anyone in your life. But when you ignore it, the presence behind you leans in closer, that same voice now speaking into your ear.

“Be a dear and let me put my briefcase between your feet.”

You freeze in place, willing yourself to pretend nothing is happening- but a hand begins to press at your waist, stroking upwards and downwards, applying more pressure at it starts to climb up to your chest-

You awkwardly shuffle your feet to accommodate the briefcase, stomach turning as you realise how your legs are now slightly spread and now both of his hands are free to do as they please. He manoeuvres the briefcase between your legs and drops it down, hand drifting dangerously close to your pussy. It’s on its side, meaning not even your knees can squeeze together. You’d never regretted wearing a skirt so much in your entire life. Panicking, you start twisting around- and when you can barely make out the blue suit of the man behind you, everything clicks.

“Good girl. I’m certain you’ve figured out who I am by now, yes? I can’t help but feel like we’ve known each other for years.”

The train begins to move.

One of his hands finds yours on the same handrail, engulfing it. His fingers are slender, but you can’t move your own hand away. His body feels as if it’s been locked to yours, now surrounding you entirely. The other hand moves to rest on your waist, thumb gently caressing back and forth over your shirt. It slowly slides downwards to your hip and you lurch forward- but there’s nowhere to go. Only the cold door of the carriage is in front you, locked shut as the train rattles along. Around you, oblivious bodies sway with it, looking down at phones or into the backs of others.

“I know so much about you, my love…” He says, hand briefly gliding to your rear. The train jostles. You feel him press into your back even more, chest bumping against you as he starts to speak again. It was bad enough that he knows your name- but horror fills your haywire brain as he starts listing off more names- reciting a list of your family members, friends, colleagues, social media handles. Your fingers tighten around the handrail and you shake, tears beginning to well up in your eyes out of fear.

Who is this man?

“Do you feel like you know me too, after all this time?”

You shake your head no, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the noise of the train.

“What a pity. You must be curious, though. I’ve noticed that you avoid looking in my direction.”

His hand glides down your thigh, thumb creeping under your tight skirt. You squeak as your lips tremble, staring out into the darkness beyond the train windows.

“When someone leaves a seat next to me, you’d rather stand. I wonder, what are you so afraid of?”

This. This. This.

With a lack of response from you, his hand continues to sweep across your lower body, desperate to feel every inch.

“You have such a lovely figure ,”He mutters, leaning deeper into you. You hear him inhale through his nose and are unable to suppress a shudder. “And such a lovely scent.”

You feel him bend his head down and lightly kiss your neck, causing you to jerk away from him- as far away as possible. Which is, much to your dismay, barely a few centimetres.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He whispers, retracting himself slightly. You’re still reeling from the kiss when his hand starts to go deeper, to somewhere more dangerous, slipping between your legs. You try to close your them but find it impossible to do fully with the briefcase obstructing your motion. The only thing left to do would be to try and bend forward, still exposing your most vulnerable area to him.

There is no escape.

You realise you’re out of luck when you feel his fingers slip over your panties, eager to explore. Your breath hitches and your face is on fire yet a deathly cold pervades every sensation. Worst of all, your body refuses to move. A single, wet tear rolls down your cheek. It isn’t long before one finger hooks underneath the fabric, stroking clumsily across your bare pussy, dragging itself upwards to your clit. Another finger joins it to rub, applying pressure in a way that would be admittedly enjoyable if not for the circumstances. Self loathing creeps up on you with a particularly pleasurable motion, a disgust at how skilfully the man behind you manipulates your body. You whimper pathetically, a sound that must’ve been audible to him as he lets out a small chuckle. It’s too lighthearted, too friendly, too boldly in contrast with the way his hand shamelessly molests you.

He suddenly stops, pausing for a moment with his fingers resting beneath your pussy. Now, only one finger circles your clit lazily, still sending sparks of unwanted pleasure into your core. “I believe it’s almost your stop. I’ll be in touch with you soon to finish what we started but… ah, where should I put this?”

His hand departs from your crotch, wiping carelessly against your thigh but soon returning with an object in tow. Something sharp causes you to squirm, surely it’s not anything dangerous, surely-

“Steady.” He murmurs.

He slips this object- now recognisable as a small card- into your panties, pressing directly up against your labia. With the card placed, he readjusts your underwear and skirt, still rubbing lightly at your clit over your panties until the train starts to slow. It creaks to a halt as he gives a demeaning pat to your rear, whispering his final message.

“Have a wonderful day, beloved.”

The briefcase is pulled out. He shuffles around. You hear him tell someone to “please, let this young lady exit” but you still avoid looking at him. You only look forward, eyes straight ahead as you try your hardest not to waddle with the foreign object inserted into your underwear. Making a beeline to the nearest public restroom, you breathe in and out, heaving. When you finally sit down on the toilet, you slowly peel off your panties with tears of shame dripping down your face.

Just when you thought you could take no further humiliation, you realise the card is stuck to the fabric due to being saturated with slick. You pry it off, trembling, and what you find is a business-card.

Mr Neuvillette. Epiclese Law Firm. Flipping it over, an address and a number you can barely read with your blurred, tear-filled eyes.

You drop the card to the ground, pressing your face into the palms of your hands and sobbing.

Bzz.

Must be your phone. You don’t care.

Bzz.

Bzz.

Bzz.

You end up rummaging around in your bag, seeing your phone already lit up with new notifications on the screen with every passing second. All are images from an unknown number. And with a rudimentary scroll, you realise all images are of you in various locations, and even various states of undress-

With bile rising in your throat, you turn off all notifications and power it off, staring into the blackness on the screen.

You’re calling in sick today.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

The Start of the Future (Part 26)

Previous | Masterpost

The ring of rage made it possible for Danny to open portals to the Infinite Realms on his own, which would at least make commuting back and forth much easier. While they were at the Watchtower Danny had raided the equipment that had been liberated from the GIW bases and, after his panic attack, he found a suit of ectoplasmic armour that he could update and upgrade for Jason. Sure he was already liminal but Danny would rather be safe than sorry with the amount of concentrated ecto he’d be exposed to in the Infinite Realms. It was pretty easy to tinker with, improve the blasters and repaint it to match Jason’s colour pallet, once it was slimmed down a little as well and given a better finish Danny had to say it looked cool as hell. 

Once it was done and Jason had some experience wearing it and operating the weapons, they were as ready as they were ever going to be to face the mountain of paperwork that was inevitably waiting for Danny. It was easiest to leave from the Batcave, leaving Jason’s motorbike there before Danny transformed back into Phantom. With one last check on Jason’s armour Phantom ripped a hole through space and time to get to his new castle. As he stepped through onto the dark cobblestones he felt a shiver run down his spine. God this place was so deeply infused by Pariah’s malice it was going to take him a long time to shape the haunt to his will instead of its previous master. 

Danny was not pleased to see that half the council and the Observants were waiting for him, as was Fright Knight. Just great. The portal closed and Fright Knight stepped forward, and Danny stepped back, Jason slid between the two of them glaring at Fright Knight through his visor. Fright paused looking annoyed, but after it became clear Jason wasn’t going to move and Danny wasn’t going to come forward again Fright elected to ignore Jason and just focus on Danny past Jason. 

“My King,” Fright Knight bowed to Danny. “I want you to know that my vow to the crown still holds. I will serve you however you order, I will be your knight.”

“No you will not,” Danny said calmly but firmly, ignoring the look of hurt and fear in Fright’s eyes. “I will not revoke your title, and you may continue to serve the crown, but I will be knighting Red Hood. He will be my knight, not a knight of the crown,” He said with a sneer. “For now you can serve me by making sure news of my rule is properly spread. Make sure they know, and know that things will be changing and do it without threats. Understand?”

“Yes my King,” Fright said, though he still didn’t seem pleased he wouldn’t disobey an order. He got up and shot a glare at Jason before flying off to do a task Danny hoped would keep him busy for a good long while given the Realms were Infinite and all. 

Once he was gone Danny turned back towards the rest of his ‘welcoming party’, He sighed and forced his shoulders to relax. “So, show me to the work that needs to be done,” He said, more confidently than he felt.

“Oh there will be plenty of time for that,” Clockwork said wryly, leaning heavily on his staff. 

“There’s a royal wedding to plan!” Frostbite butted in, excited and eager as ever, trigger near identical startled sounds from Jason and Danny. 

“Are you sure? We were planning on waiting and getting married in the mortal world first. I’m sure there’s a ton of stuff to do before…” He trailed off because Pandora was shaking her head. 

She held out one set of hands, the other still clasped behind her back; “A royal wedding is exactly what we need. It had been a long time since the Realms had a king, and much longer still since anything to do with a king could be called a joyous occasion. Not counting when the council managed to bind Pariah Dark.

“A royal wedding will bring everyone together so they can see you, while ensuring the expectation is that they be happy for you, and bring gifts. Since the coronation was immediate, and took place in the human world, this is the best opportunity for you to meet the other governing bodies within the Realms, and to set their expectations of you.” 

“I do not want my wedding to be a political affair,” Danny said coldly, drawing himself up to his full height, which still wasn’t very impressive at all in the face of Pandora and Frostbite. He was taller than Clockwork now at least. He relaxed just slightly when Jason rested a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“You can still have the wedding you want in the human world, the ceremony here won’t be binding there. And you can have whatever guests you want as well as the political ones, the guest list will be hundreds long as is, and we’ll make sure spaces for family are reserved right at the front,” Frostbite assured, placatingly. 

Danny took a deep breath and shook his head before turning back towards Jason. “What do you think?” He asked, taking one of Jason’s hands, he couldn’t quite lace their fingers together with the size of Jason’s gloves so this would have to do. 

Jason shrugged; “I told you I’m happy to get to marry you multiple times, This isn’t the way we planned it sure, but this can be a dress rehearsal basically, and I gotta admit I’m curious as fuck about what sort of gifts ghosts will give their king. I think Robin and Phantasm will have a blast with it too. Ohhh you should invite Constantine! Seeing him scramble to get a gift would be hilarious!”

Danny couldn’t help but smile at Jason, glad he wasn’t taking this seriously as he might have, and could see the humour in it. “Alright,” Danny agreed fondly, leaning forward to kiss his helmet over Jason’s cheek. “How do ghostly weddings even work?” He asked, turning back towards his new council. 

Clockwork smiled approvingly and Frostbite downright cheered, Jason and Danny were shepherded into a council room where planning began. For the most part Danny and Jason let the planning take place around them rather than actually taking part in it.  They put in their input here and there, colour choices, food, making sure things were human-safe options for the few guests Danny and Jason wanted to bring. The councilors were the ones who knew who in the Realms needed to be invited, mostly kings and chiefs of various sections of the realms who were too used to ruling without oversight. 

When it seemed like all the personal touches were finished Danny placed his palms on the table and stood up, smiling around the table without much feeling. “Is the guest list all you’ll be discussing now?” He asked calmly.

“Well, yes but-” Pandora started but Danny held up his hand and shook his head. 

“I don’t care who you invite other than my family. Send me a list of who you decide to invite and what I need to know. I’m going to have a look around the rest of the keep to see what else I’ve inherited from that bastard, other than a complete mess.” Danny dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Did Pariah Dark have an office?”

There was a moment of silence, the rest of the council glancing around at one another, everyone clearly expecting someone else to have an answer. “He must have had an office right?” Frostbite questioned. 

“I’m sure that he did,” Pandora agreed, nodding firmly. “He wasn’t always mad, he did his duty at some point.”

“Great,” Danny sighed, pushing himself back from the table and standing up. “Well, maybe we’ll find his office while we’re exploring and if not I’ll choose a new room to be my office. I should start remaking this place to suit me anyway, I don’t want anyone you bring to the wedding to think that I’m in any way like him after all, I should start reshaping this place.”

“Very well,” Clockwork sighed and turned back towards the table, launching back into discussions about the guest list. After that would be discussion of seating arrangements. Danny fully expected this to take days. Even if they insisted this needed to be done quickly, all of the people discussing it were ancient and immortal, to them tomorrow still meant next month. Of course thanks to the time dilation in the living world they would still get around to the wedding before Danny and Jason could, unless they wanted a Vegas wedding, which he didn’t. Although… No, he wouldn’t compromise the wedding that they had dreamed for this. 

Danny slipped out of the room with Jason on his heels to explore with him. Danny paused to take Jason’s hand again so they could walk together down the broad, dimly lit haul. Danny grimaced and glared at one of the torches. “Okay to start with we can get some more fucking light in here, and maybe a rug,” He grumbled, closing his eyes and focusing on the ecto around him. It was resistant to his touch, he wasn’t the mind that it was used to responding to and it didn’t want to listen to him. But this was his haunt now, he was the master of this space now and it would answer to him. 

The world beyond Danny’s eyelids brightened slightly and Jason gasped softly. Danny opened his eyes and gave a self satisfied smile when he saw the torches were brighter and a slightly warmer shade of green and there was now a very grand rug stretching off down the long hall. “Good, that’s better. Let’s get going.”

“How did you do that?” Jason asked curiously. 

“Oh right, you’ve never been to the Ghost Zone before! The entire place is made of ectoplasm, that means it responds to emotion and will. Not all of it I mean, every ghost has a haunt and the ecto in their haunt responds to them, everyone’s haunt is specially tailored to them. Actually… because when I died I didn’t come to the Realms naturally, I’m not sure I had a haunt here before I defeated Pariah and took his. I’d better make the most of it huh? I’m going to manifest an observatory!” Danny exclaimed, excitement getting the better of him for a moment. And why not? It was about time this place felt a little bit of joy. 

Jason laughed and Danny grinned at him, tugging him along after him. “Come on, we should find a bedroom for the two of us as well and make that ours. We’ll be spending some nights here while I set everything up, or at least I will. I’ll figure out how to make it safe for you so you can have a comfortable place here too while you’re still living.”

“I love how ominous you are,” Jason said with genuine warmth, making Danny laugh again. They continued on with a bounce in their step and the energy of giddy children exploring an ancient mansion, and they found plenty of hidden rooms and hallways to justify that excitement. Though whether they’d been there before or if the ecto was manifesting them because Danny expected them to be there was anyone’s guess. 

They carried on that way until they found a potential bedroom that, with a little editing, would work for the both of them. Danny could will a lot of the ecto in the room to be inert, or absent, but it took a lot of concentration and it wasn’t perfect. He was going to have to invent something, a miniature ghost shield maybe? Either way it would be safe for one night and Jason was tired.

Danny lay with him until he was asleep, but in his ghost form and in a place of infinite ambiently metabolizable ecto he didn’t need to sleep much and he wasn’t tired. He slipped out of bed again and left a note for Jason in case he woke up while Danny was gone. Then he continued exploring, looking specifically for the office now because with Jason asleep he had nothing better to do then get a start on the work right?

Unfortunately he did find the office, which was dusty as fuck somehow despite no one here shedding skin cells. There were piles upon piles of papers here, the stacks had probably started on the desk, but when they got too tall work had started to pile up on the floor. As Pariah lost interest in the actual work people must have continued to just drop paperwork here in the hopes he might get around to some of it… eventually. They had probably only stopped once Pariah had been bound in the coffin, and then enough time passed for everyone to forget this office even existed. 

Danny sighed and settled into work, starting with the dustiest piles because those were the oldest. Most of the papers that didn’t disintegrate as soon as he picked them up were probably not valid anymore and the ones that were were probably long overdue and increasingly desperate. He incinerated ones that said they needed things on a time limit, thousands of years expired the need had probably passed one way or another, and if not they could re-submit the request to him this time. The ones that seemed like they might still need help he set aside to ask Pandora or Clockwork about when he got the chance. 

The task became meditative; pick up a paper, scan it for dates, then set it aside or incinerate it. The small amount of ecto in each of the papers giving him a little boost as they disintegrated. It gave him the time and the brain space to pay attention to his new haunt, expanding his mind to start the process of properly melding with his new haunt. It was resistant to his will for now, and he didn’t feel like forcing it, he wasn’t going to be that kind of king after all. For now it was enough to let it get used to his presence, like sharing space with a neglected cat.

At least by the morning it was responsive enough to tell him that Jason was up. Danny sighed and got up, stretching with a groan. He had gotten through about a quarter of the accumulated paperwork, not reading it or anything, just sorting out that maybe he should read it later. But still the room looked much less crowded and dusty so he was going to call that a pretty good start! He shut the door after him and concentrated for a moment to alter the door, making it more distinctive and easier to find for the future before he rushed off the say good morning to Jason, and open a portal out of the zone so they could at least get some breakfast.

Jason met him at the door and hugged Danny tightly, scooping him up as Danny yelped then laughed, wrapping his arms around Jason’s shoulder in return. “Put me down,” He laughed, not really meaning it so Jason held him for a minute longer before putting him down and kissing him sweetly enough Danny started purring instantly. 

“Let’s go to the courthouse,” Jason announced, soft and breathless once he put Danny down. 

“What?” Danny asked, shocked, but when Jason looked chagrined and started to pull away Danny hugged him tighter and pulled him back in. “No no! I’m not opposed to it, I’m just surprised!”

“I know. And I’m really not upset about the ghost wedding thing, I meant that! And I don’t want us to rush before having our big wedding. But that’s going to include a ton of heroes right? So it’s kinda a masked wedding, and I want us to be married before we’re politically married you know? Let's pick up our siblings, maybe Bruce, and go to a courthouse. I’ll buy you a bouquet, and Bruce can pay for the fanciest fucking dinner of our lives as an afterparty…” He trailed off as Danny laughed and pulled Jason in for another kiss.

“Add Roy to the list of people we’re picking up and absolutely! I think we have to call ahead to make an appointment though. And I have a little more to do here, can I drop you off at home to call the courthouse and get those flowers? I’ll finish up here and come join you as soon as I can?” He asked hopefully.

“You got it Moonlight,” Jason agreed easily. 

“You’re the best, Boss,” Danny teased laughingly and Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Keep that nickname for the bedroom now Cub,” Jason replied, pushing Danny away for just a  moment before pulling him back in as Danny purred.

“Tonight?” He suggested hopefully. 

“Tonight,” Jason agreed and they kissed one more time before Danny ripped open a portal for Jason to head home with both of their tasks assigned. 

Danny threw himself back into work, doing what he could do. He dismissed the souls that Pariah owned, and set the ones that wouldn’t or couldn’t leave to cleaning the castle with strict orders to take regular breaks if they’re tired, and maybe try a couple hobbies as long as it doesn’t bother anyone else. That’s the best he can do for now. It’s going to be slow going until everyone he loves can join him in this world, and this time they actually will. None of them will be killed with ecto weapons which simultaneously destroy bodies and souls, he will never have to lose this family like he did his last one, no one will. 

He arrived home while Jason was halfway through making dinner, and got to hear about Jason’s day. He cooked and told Danny excitedly how he had called the courthouse and managed to get an appointment for the afternoon after next, and he’d called their family and everyone would be able to come! Including Dan who hadn’t gone so far that Ellie couldn’t catch up to him and ask him to come back for the wedding. Jason laughed as he told Danny Dan had been relieved to hear there was going to be a smaller wedding so he’d have an excuse not to attend the bigger ones later! 

Their home was warm and cozy, their safe nest just the two of them and any stress Danny had been feeling melted away. He couldn’t wait to eat, he couldn’t wait to spend the night with Jason, he couldn’t wait to get married in a couple of days! There was so much to look forward to, so much in a life, an eternity, of people that he loved. He couldn’t say he didn’t regret what had happened to his first family. But with Pariah gone, the GIW on the run, and Jason at his side Danny could say he was finally, and unequivocally, happy.

[merrybloomwrites]

When The Wolves Come Out (Chapter 3)

Story Summary: When Y/N gets hired to play drums for One Direction, the last thing she expects is to find herself as part of their pack. Especially since it seems that they don’t want her there. Only time will tell if they’ll accept her, or if the omega will have to deal with rejection from the others.

Chapter Summary: Throughout rehearsals and the start of tour, the boys continue to keep their distance from Y/N, leading to her developing touch deprivation.

Previous chapters: One , Two

Word Count: 1.9K

Tags/CW: omega verse, omega reader, alpha Harry, alpha Zayn, alpha Louis, beta Niall, beta Liam, poly, cat calling, touch deprivation

AN: Normally I write longer chapters (like 3k-6K words) but I’m enjoying these shorter quicker chapters for this series. Feels like it works better, plus there’s less waiting time between posting, which I know I enjoy as a reader haha

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The beeping of your alarm slowly wakes you up, and you get ready hoping that today will be better than yesterday. It’s your first official rehearsal with the band, and you hope to win over the others by being able to show off your skill. If yesterday's meeting is anything to go by, you won’t be winning them over by your charming personality. Not when they’re apparently so determined to not let anyone get close to them. 

Just before leaving you pick up your bottle of scent neutralizers, about to methodically put them on before remembering the rules Simon had for you. He told you not to wear blockers, that they should always be able to pick up on your floral omega scent. You don’t really like this, as it makes you feel vulnerable, especially in a city you’re unfamiliar with, but you follow the rule anyway. 

The rehearsal space is a bit farther than the offices were, so you leave early to make sure you give yourself enough time to walk there. A wrong turn takes you down an alley that leads to a side street. Checking your map app shows this will get you where you need to be, so you follow it rather than turning around. 

The main street had been loud and filled with people, most probably on their morning commute. But this way is quiet, practically deserted. You nearly jump out of your skin when a voice shouts out, “Hey pretty thing!”

Turning around you see a man behind you. You can get just a whiff of his scent but it’s enough to know he’s an alpha. Internally cursing yourself for taking a back road, you start walking faster. 

The footsteps behind you grow louder, and you know that the man has picked up his pace to get closer to you. Now panicking, you start jogging down the road. You just need to get to the end of the street so you can turn back to the busier part of the city and you’ll be safe. 

Just as you get there he seems to admit defeat, and angrily shouts out, “You shouldn’t be wandering all alone with a sweet scent like that!” 

Doing your best to ignore that comment, you finish your walk and arrive at the rehearsal space. You try to compose yourself, but you’re still shaky, and you know your scent has probably turned a bit sour from the fear you’d just been feeling. 

After taking some deep breaths you walk into the room. Niall, Louis, Harry, Zayn, and Liam are all there, and they turn to look at you. After quick good mornings they go back to what they’d been doing. Not wanting to bother anyone, you head to the drums and take out the music you’d been sent. 

As you flip through the pages, you sense eyes on you. Looking up you see Louis staring your way, his eyes calculating, even a little bit worried. Like he can sense something is wrong. Maybe he does have some alpha instincts in him. But instead of coming over to check if you’re okay, he simply shrugs and goes to talk with Niall. 

Finally the rest of the band and the music director arrive and it’s time to actually get to work. It’s a bit chaotic at first, but it doesn’t take long for everyone to click. By the time you break for lunch, any negative feelings have gone away, replaced now by excitement. 

You grab food and sit at one of the tables, soon being joined by the boys. At first you think this is an improvement in your friendship with them. But then they start talking among themselves, barely acknowledging that you’re there. 

Rehearsals last a few more hours, and everyone’s ready to head home by the time you’re dismissed. As you head outside you’re surprised by Zayn saying, “Good work today.”

“Yea, you’re really talented,” Harry adds. 

“Glad you’re on the team,” Louis then says before all five of them get into their car. 

While walking home you think about that interaction. The words were nice, even if they seemed almost reluctant to say them. Sighing to yourself, you accept that for now, you’re looking at an amicable working relationship at best. 

You just hope Simon can accept that as well. 

Weeks pass in a flurry of planning, rehearsing, fittings, and numerous meetings to make sure everything is ready for the upcoming tour. 

A few days before setting out, Louis gets called in to meet with Simon once again. 

“Y/N will be joining you on your bus,” he states with no preamble. 

“Excuse me?” Louis says, shocked by this news. 

“She’s an omega. She’ll need to be close to alphas while touring.”

“She’s an omega. What if she slips into heat? Or one of us goes into rut? It’s not safe!”

“You know that won’t happen,” Simon answers. “You’re all on the best suppressants, not a chance you’ll fall into a cycle unexpectedly. You just don't want her around, and to be honest, I'm disappointed in you boys. You’ve rejected her since she got here, pushed her away, ostracized her.”

“We didn’t ask for her to be here. She’s a great drummer, and we respect her as a musician. But as we said before, she isn’t going to just push her way into our pack.”

“And as I’ve said before, you cannot be a pack without her. She will be on your bus. Maybe the time together will open your mind.”

Louis leaves that day feeling frustrated, like his words don’t matter. He gets home and shares the news with the rest. 

“I don’t like this,” Zayn says. 

“Seems like a bad idea,” Harry agrees. 

“What if having her around triggers one of your ruts?” Liam asks nervously. 

“I said that to Simon, he said it won’t happen cause of our meds,” Louis replies, clearly still agitated from the meeting. Niall moves close to him, tucking to the alphas side in an attempt to comfort and calm him. It helps, but Louis suddenly thinks that it might be nice to have the true calming pheromones of an omega when he’s upset. 

He shakes away the thought a moment later and instead enjoys a night with his pack. 

He manages to put the news of their bus mate out of his mind for the following days, but as they load up to get on the road there’s no denying it. 

“D’ya think you could wear some scent blockers?” Louis asks you the first night. 

“Not allowed,” you reply curtly. 

“What do you mean not allowed?” Harry asks. 

“I mean that Simon told me I can’t wear them. It’s one of my rules.”

“He’s such a wanker,” you hear Zayn say under his breath. 

Not wanting to cause any problems, you get into your bunk and try to sleep. Even with all the stress you’re feeling, the familiar lull of the bus driving down the highway helps you fall asleep in minutes. 

The next morning is tense, and you can feel the boys' annoyance at your presence. The logical human part of you knows it must be difficult to have someone new, especially someone with a strong scent, invade their bus. The omega part of you is less understanding. It’s on edge, upset at the rejection of the others. 

Luckily you arrive at the first venue, and you no longer have to worry about your dynamic with the others. Now it’s time to just worry about your job, about putting on a perfect show for the fans. 

And that’s just what all of you do. Opening night is a success, and everyone heads back to the bus on a high. You’re even invited to hang with them in the lounge as everyone comes down from the adrenaline of performing. 

For a little while, everything feels right. But then it shifts once more and you find yourself being pushed out of the conversation again. Not only that, but you watch as the boys huddle closer together. Liam rests his head on Louis’ chest, and Niall finds himself sandwiched between Zayn and Harry. The betas look perfectly content, and your omega cries out for that kind of affection. 

Not wanting to broadcast your feelings to the others, you rush out a good night and head to your bunk. You spray scent neutralizers on the curtain that separates you from the rest of the bus, hoping it will block your scent from getting out. 

More than that, you don’t want the boys knowing about the scented clothes from your former pack mates. You still have a couple from both Kevin and Joe, and you pull out one shirt from each of them. You place them by your pillow so their scent will be close to you. It’s a sad imitation of a nest, but it’s the best you can do. 

As weeks pass you start feeling drained. You write it off as exhaustion from the constant work and travel. But then you start to get shaky, cold, itchy, not to mention the headaches that seem to get worse daily. 

The European leg of tour ends, and you all spend a few weeks in South America for a run of shows there. After the first few days you finally admit that you’re experiencing touch deprivation. It shocks you, since you’re constantly surrounded by alphas. Their scents around you should be enough to keep this all at bay. 

But their constant rejection of you must be distressing your omega more than you’d realized. It’s never that they did anything major. They were never mean, or rude. They included you at mealtimes, would check in and see how you were doing. But it was always them just being polite. 

You’d also learned the dynamic between the five of them was deeper than you originally thought. On numerous occasions you’d walked in on them being physically intimate with each other. You’d seen duos, trios, even walked in on all five of them on the floor together sharing kisses. 

Even though you hadn’t expected that, it didn’t bother you. Part of you was happy for them, glad they had one another, and that they all seemed to have a healthy relationship. 

The part that did bother you was the jealousy you felt. You wanted that type of intimacy as well. Every time you watched the alphas dote on Niall or Liam, you’d feel another pang of jealousy rip through you. It’s not like you were looking for a relationship, but seeing how happy they were, it felt like they were rubbing it in your face. 

Plus the pheromones. They were overwhelming. Especially whenever the boys would get intimate. That always led to you hiding in your bunk and breaking the no scent blockers rule. Anything to prevent the others from picking up on the sweet smell of your slick. 

As the symptoms of touch deprivation worsen, you count down the days until your first US show. It’s at MetLife Stadium, and you consider it your hometown show. Your family and previous pack members will be there to support you. If you can just make it to New Jersey, you can spend time with Kevin and Joe. Hopefully being around the alphas will help with the depri. 

And hopefully your bandmates will accept you as one of their own before it’s too late.

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AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one should see the dynamic between reader and the band starting to shift, which I’m excited for!

[matchalovertrait]

We have landed 😌

NOTE: I used the "Japan Train Station" lot by LeeWangWei

NOTE: I also used the "Komerobi Little Dreams" lot by deedaadoodii

Start from the beginning (Gen 2)

Previous | Next

[Now Playing; First Song; Zachz Winner, Gaiyu, Roga.]

[Once the plane touched down, the three ladies boarded a train to the city where Rubiya, Dulce’s longtime friend, resided. Though springtime was an ideal time to visit, Dulce saw that autumn was majestic, too. The crisp air and warm-colored foliage, combined with the shoin-zukuri style architecture, created an enchanting atmosphere.]

[It was also her first time in a country where she didn’t speak the primary language. Luckily, Dani could speak some Japanese – mostly conversational, but it was enough to get by, and her accent wasn’t terrible. Dulce listened with awe. The phonological similarities between Spanish and Japanese were pretty cool.]

[Then, Dulce spotted Rubiya! She wanted to squeal, but she didn’t want to be a rowdy tourist. Despite how new and exciting everything felt, this was the everyday commute for mostly everyone else here.]

DULCE: Rubiya! It’s so good to see you again.

RUBIYA: Same here! How was the flight?

DULCE: Super long, but I’m used to it from frequently visiting my family back in Tartosa. I just watch plenty of movies like 13 Going on 30.

RUBIYA: That movie is a classic.

[Rubiya pulled back to greet her other guests.]

DANI: Hi again! Um, I’m not sure if you remember me.

RUBIYA: You’re the paralegal who showed me that remarkable taco place!

RUBIYA: And you’re Amethyst, of course!

AMETHYST: The one and only. Thanks for inviting us to stay at your place. We could’ve booked hotel rooms.

RUBIYA: I don’t mind it at all. Speaking of which, let’s start heading over there.

[After studying abroad, Rubiya chose to stay in a duplex where she ran a halal restaurant. It was modest, but certainly not unpopular. Those “Top Places to Eat At” videos often featured the establishment.]

AMETHYST: You won in that episode of Diced Junior, huh? I watched it when it aired.

RUBIYA: Yeah! I know some people expected “more” from me, but I’m perfectly content with where I’m at.

DULCE: The people who think you fell off are losers. I say you’re living the life. You received an education and you’re doing what you love.

DANI: I get you, Rubiya. I’m more than happy being a paralegal. Even when I was a teacher, I didn’t aspire to become a principal or school administrator.

AMETHYST: It’s unfortunate that teachers aren’t supported enough. The students must’ve loved you.

DANI: I miss them but I love where I work now. When I moved from Ciudad Enamorada with Yoltic, I took the chance to start over.

AMETHYST: Would you have missed Dulce as a student, though?

[Rubiya smirked. She also attended Tartosa High School, so she was aware how Dulce was like.]

DULCE: Oh, gosh... I used to sneak into the school kitchen to make my own food.

DULCE: I have to take matters into my own hands. The school lunch really ain’t it.

DULCE: Hey, Prescott. Do you want a sandwich, too?

PRINCIPAL PRESCOTT: No cheese. Extra mustard.

DULCE: My future kids better not do stuff like that. The disrespect.

[Dani snickered.]

DANI: Sometimes the most difficult part about dealing with students displaying misguided behavior is trying not to laugh.

[Before long, it was time for lunch. With two chefs in charge of the food, you knew they ate well! Dulce found it intriguing how the cooking styles of Rubiya, Lewis, and Alex remained unchanged from their Diced Junior Days. They each kept their unique flair even after all this time.]

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: waiting, expecting and safe. 

contains: MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI MDNI, childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, makeout sesh

authors note: this my first time officially writing smut vs a maladaptive day dream...i can only go up from here (I tell myself as i edited this chapter idk how many times) the smut was fun to write, i had to keep reminding myself to be a little shameless...enjoy!

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06. my love

Laughter bounced off the walls of the cabin, engulfing you and Bradley in a warm atmosphere. Minutes felt like seconds each time your cheeks flushed. 

“I swear I know where I’m going!” 

“By the looks of it, Penny will make it back before I do.” 

“Hey, I’m doing pretty good for having not driven up and down these roads in a while.”

You paused, giving Bradley a small side-eye. He stiffened up and glanced at you anxiously. 

“Did I say the wrong thing?” He inquired softly as if he was expecting a blow. 

You’d given him plenty but the energy was light right now, your body feeling weightless. “Yes.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry Bugs I know I keep–”

“You literally learned how to drive on the I-5. You should know these roads like the back of your hand Bradshaw.” You laughed again, leaning on the window to get a better view of him. His shoulders relaxed, moving his neck side to side,“When I was like sixteen!” He said exasperatedly. 

“Oh please at this point we’re gonna end up in Ramona if you take one more wrong turn.”  

“We’re barely in La Jolla, shush.” 

“That's the thing…WHY are we in La Jolla?” You huffed. 

Penny nor your parent's house was far from North Island, both your father and your aunt preferred a shorter commute. Which for them, was Point Loma. 

“Alright alright, you caught me.” He gave you a small lopsided grin, “You really don’t remember one of our favorite spots?”

Bradley had caught you off guard. In truth, you did forget. It’d been forever since you’d been near the West Field, let alone La Jolla Shores. When Bradley left, anything related to him was pushed into the corners of your mind. You watched as his smile faded, eyebrows creasing in the center.

“Oh my god, you forgot?”

“Can you blame me?” You exclaimed. “After you left anything related to you I just dumped in the back of my head refused, refusing to think of it again.” You put your face in your hands, ears burning from the heat of the embarrassment.

“Bugs you picked this spot out…” He trailed off, his laughter barely concealed.

“Don’t remind me!” 

“I remember how proud you were to show me! Made me close my eyes so I wouldn’t know the way there.”

The spot in question was a little bit past the university, instead of turning onto one of the other main roads, you kept going past the golf course. You’d been hunting for small spots by the shores. You and Bradley grew up on the San Diego beaches, but La Jolla Shores was the last place you visited with Carole before she got bad. After that, you had no reason to be hunting for small nooks and crannies tucked between the cliffs.

Now that it had dawned on you where you were going, it surprised you. Bradley left San Diego scorned of everything it reminded him he lost. 

You looked at him, really looked at him. His cheeks had shed their baby fat, his eyes were a little heavier, and his jaw stronger. The nose you used to outline is more sculpted. Time had worn his face and polished him into a man and you’d never truly noticed until this moment. When he left you there was still some plushy youth in cheeks and a chubbier smile. 

You had no idea what he had been through in the years he was away. 

“Look,” He pointed towards your side, “There’s the campus, we’re close by.” 

Bradley kept pointing towards random things that served as memory markers, the gate that got you all the down the cliffs, the Scripps research building, some new ones you had no idea what they were.

The windy road was quiet save for the wind that got stronger as you got near the beach. The sand was beating against the windows and he double-checked every window was rolled up tight. Lowering down the music he turned to face you, fingers drumming his thighs. 

Before he could get a word in, you unbuckled and climbed over the console into the back seat, stretching out. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“You’re not gonna join me, Bradshaw?”

“Am I allowed to?” 

You cocked your head to the side, “Now that you ask…” 

“Too late I’m already climbing over.” 

You laughed as he lugged his body through the small space. Another reminder of just how much time had passed. He was bigger, all the training had beefed him up a bit, not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

He sat next to you with a huff, legs man spread and his hands hanging over his thighs as he took a deep breath. “You know this car is supposed to be roomy?” 

“It was roomy when we were younger.” You smiled up at him, watching his neck turn a little redder. 

“Yeah..yeah it was.” He trailed off, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. 

“We were awful back then, getting into all sorts of…” He trailed off, “Mischief?” 

He laughed in response, “I guess you could call it that.”

You leaned on his shoulder, legs tucked under you as you watched the waves sallow up the sand. Today must've been high tide since the water was near the edge, much closer than normal. Bradley leaned his cheek on your head, not moving closer, not pulling away, just leaning. 

You both remained quiet for a couple of minutes. You slightly dozed off until he pushed a piece of hair out of your face. Grazing your cheek and pinching the top of your ear. You gave him a small glare.

“Hey, no sleeping on the job.” He said as he tapped the tip of your nose. You scrunched it at him. 

He re-adjusted, leaning on the door and pulling you in so you laid between his legs. Bradley wasn’t as small as he used to be, keeping one leg straight across the back seat, and the other bent off the edge for balance, placing you right so you were laying back to his chest. You leaned your weight on him as he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a bear hug. It wasn’t suffocating and you gripped his arms holding him back.

You let him hold you as long as he needed, hearing his deep breaths as if he was trying to memorize your scent, and his hands pressing into your shoulders to make sure you were still there with him. 

“I missed you Bugs, more than words can describe.” 

“I missed you too Bradshaw.” He loosened his grip, using his hands to caress your cheek and your jaw, moving up your nose and to your eyebrows. Outlining your face with his finger, as much as you wanted to let him continue, you also wanted to look at him. 

You shifted away from the back of the seats and threw your legs over his bent one, feet just reaching the console. You were practically sitting in his lap, save for the fact he was splayed out semi-starfish, using the door to keep him upright. You settled on top of his thighs and looked up.

He didn’t say anything and instead gently kissed your forehead. Holding himself there before moving down to your eyebrows, then each cheek and the tip of your nose. 

“No kiss for me Bradshaw?” He huffed a little bit, you’d always been straightforward, to his demise or his benefit. 

“Do you want a kiss Bugs?” You raised an eyebrow. “Question is Bradshaw, do you deserve a kiss?” He laughed his time, head on the window as you felt his body shake. 

“Always turning the tables on me.”

“Hey,” you lifted in your arms in defense, “You always walk right into it.” 

Nodding, he leaned forward once more, “Can I kiss you?” He asked.

This time you paused, “Please.” 

Bradley didn’t hesitate before he slotted his lips against yours. Hands coming down to support your waist as you twisted to give him a better angle. 

Your hands moved to cup the back of his neck and pull him closer, hands threading through his hair and tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth and you opened up to give him more access. 

The taste of the mocktails he had been drinking gave a slight sweetness on his tongue. One of the hands moved between your shoulder blades to push you into him. You didn’t know how much closer you could get but you tried. You engulfed each other more and more after each moment that passed, feeling as if you could finally breathe. 

Your mind was foggy by the time you guys pulled apart, he pulled you into him peppering more pecks all over your face. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

Bradley had come to terms that he’d never see you again, and if he had, that you’d hate him. Seeing you now had resurfaced every urge he tamped down over the years, all the yearning that had followed him across the globe. 

He could never outrun you. Every time he saw you, he clenched his fist to suppress the feeling, the need of wanting to hold you. He missed how you felt in his arms. Having you here now overwhelmed him, but he didn’t care. Not if it meant having you in his life again. 

You took time recuperating, listening to the rise and fall of his chest. Feeling the electricity in your fingertips as you drew meaningless shapes on his forearm, tracing your way up and outlining every detail of his face, just as he had done to you. Feeling how angular he was now boiled up a little grief on the time you guys lost, but he was here, and he was real. 

The silence broke when he started to rasp out the lyrics to Time After Time. A belly laugh breaking through your lips with his off-key singing. 

“Now Bradley…I saw that little performance you did the other day, why am I getting the short end of the stick?” 

This only prompted him to sing worse, pitching his voice high and squeaky during the second chorus. He held your cheeks as he sang to you, singing into them in a half peck until he pulled away to sing the high notes. 

His voice became quieter in the last verse, his tone gentle and lulling you as you hummed along. He hadn’t taken his hands off of you, still caressing your cheeks in small circles. The moment felt familiar and the ache in your chest had turned into a warm glow that radiated through your body. 

You stared at him for a moment longer, cutting him off with another kiss before he got the last lyric out. This one was much slower, controlled. The raw need had turned into something tender. 

He took his time feeling you out, his tongue working yours as his hands traveled up and down your body. Hands teasingly drumming along the back of your ribs. 

His touch was light as if his fingers were dancing across your skin. His other hand moved closer to your front, his thumb sliding under the sideband of your bra and caressing the tender skin. A small moan floated out of your throat. Too lost in what his hands were doing. 

Bradley wasn’t timid, he was savoring every inch of skin he came across. “Bradley..” You groaned out, your own hands sliding down his chest. 

He pulled away, looking at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Yes, Bugs?” He asked, kissing down your jaw and to the bottom of your ear. He licked and sucked his way down your collarbone, his hands still kneading your skin. 

“Please..” You huffed out, “Please touch me.” Your voice had gone raw and breathy. Bradley's eye dilated. Taking in as much detail as he could in the low light. He complied with your request, the hand that was already under your bra pushing you up slightly to readjust you and sliding your bra up in one swift motion. You arched your back to give him more access. 

Each movement you made had heat pooling down his body, his breath scalding as he took your nipple in his mouth. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was teasing you, but you did. You knew Bradley. 

He loved pleasing, but just as much as he was a giver he was selfish, he would take his time until he was ready to cherish another part of your body, whether you were whimpering under him or not. Your hands found purchase on his scalp, pulling his head back and he came off you with a lewd ‘pop’. You leaned towards him and kissed him hard, grinding as much as you could into his lap. 

The sense of urgency building between you only got worse as he pulled away from the kiss. Shushing your whimpers. Heat had been building at the apex of your thighs and you were lit hot with need. 

His tongue worked its way back down to your chest, “Let me finish this first.” He looked up at you, and you glared.“Don’t worry Bugs, I’ll take care of you.”

Time felt infinite, his tongue ran over the puckered pink flesh, pawing your other tit until you were practically begging him to fuck you, but Bradley didn’t cave. He hadn’t had you like this in years and he’ll be damned if he didn’t savor every part of skin he touched. 

When he got down to your belly button he shifted both of you, holding your head as he laid you down on your back. You sat up on your elbows in anticipation, but Bradley had other plans. He looked up as he unbuttoned your pants, looking for permission to continue. You nodded. His movements were graceful, as soon as a piece of your legs were exposed he placed well-intentioned pecks, lightly suckling the flesh. 

He’d just pressed a gentle kiss on your ankle when a wave of apprehension washed over you. As if sensing your anxiety, he shushed you, “If it’s too much, tell me now. I want you to be comfortable.” His thumbs rubbing your knees, keeping your legs together. 

Gnawing on your bottom lip had always been a bad habit of yours, Bradley hated seeing the teeth marks you’d chew the sides of your mouth. His thumb reached out to gently tug it mid-bite. “Bugs..” He pressed a gentle kiss to your knee and a shiver ran down your spine. 

Without thinking, your body moved on its own, your legs pulling apart to give Bradley access. You felt vulnerable being exposed to him, allowing him to see just how worked up you were. His silence made it even worse. You couldn't understand what he was thinking, but the nervousness from before was kicking in and your knees wobbled closer together. 

Bradley was having none of it. He laid as flat on his stomach as he could, hanging his chin low as he was enveloped in your scent. A mewl came out of your mouth, “I know,” His lips left a trail of gentle pecks. “I’ll get there I promise baby.” 

The tension was twirling in your stomach, knotting tighter with each mark he sucked between your thighs. “Bradley..” You whimpered. “Please, Bradley...I need you.” You watched a small smirk curve on his face. “I know baby. I can see how wet you are.” 

Had this been anybody else, the shame would have burned your chest red. But this was Bradley, emboldened you thrust your hips up towards his mouth. He pulled his head back. “Bradley!” You cried. 

Unphased, he continued his ministrations. Kissing and pulling the gentle flesh of your outer lips into his mouth. Leaving a trail of spit everywhere but where you needed him. Tears threatened to spill over onto your cheeks. He paused, looking up at you, “Just for your Bugs.” Bradley licked a long thick strip up your cunt, moaning as he tasted you. It’d been years since he last had the privilege and a new hunger sparked in him. 

His lips latched to your aching nub, his thumb pressing at the base of your entrance, massaging your in small circles. Pleasure thrashed through your body and you nearly saw white. His free arm came up to pin your hips down, almost holding you to his mouth. Bradley moaned with each suck to your clit, suckling lewdly. The noise alone had you aching for more. 

His name came out in breathy pants, and each time curse that followed was motivation for Bradley to keep going. Blood pooled into his cock. The head pressing against his zipper as he ground himself into the backseat for friction. Your mewls and whines left his mind hazy. All he knew was he wanted you. He missed your taste, and he was going to make sure he was satiated tonight. 

Your cunt clenched as his thumb teased your entrance. Your body wanton and pliant, he had you molded perfectly to his tongue. He pushed his thumb into your entrance and you gasped. It wasn't enough. You needed more to feel properly filled. 

“Fuck—You’re tight.” He replaced his thumb with two digits, opening you up inside and searching for your sweet spot. Your back arched once more, arm coming up to grab onto the window, onto anything to support you through your impending climax.

Bradley smiled at you from between your thighs. “Did I find it?” His fingers pressing up into you and curling. Your legs latched to his shoulders, hips gyrating to meet his pace.

“Bradley—I’m gon-” You arched again, vision whiting out as he suckled your cunt. “Come on baby,” He mumbled, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. “Give me the first one.” Your body compiled. Your hands scrambled to latch onto anything to guide you through the heat that encompassed your body. 

As you came down, you registered Bradley's fingers still in you, gently pressing inside your inner walls. He’d been laying gentle pecks on your cunt as your body recalibrated. His teeth marking any free flesh he saw on your inner thighs. 

You moved away from him, hands pushing his head away. But Bradley didn’t budge. You realized too late what he was gunning for when his mouth sealed onto your cunt once more. Continuing his relentless pace as if he never slowed down. 

“Bradley,” You called to him. He didn’t respond, “Bradley!”  You cried. “I can’t—fuck—I can’t.” Scooting yourself up, but it didn’t work. Bradley held you firm to his mouth. 

“You can.” He growled, lapping at your cunt. His eyes had blurred out, dilated, and focused on giving you another orgasm. The overstimulation was clawing its way through your nerves, shooting tingles down into the soles of your feet as you became breathless. 

You were close, so close. Bradley could you feel tightening around his fingers, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “One more baby. Just one more.” He groaned into you, the sound of his voice cresting you over into white-hot pleasure. His hips ground out into the seat one last time, your screams pushing him over the edge to finish. 

He slowed his pace to match your breathing as you came down. Being mindful of your twitching the more he played with your pussy. You leaned against the doorframe, legs lazily splayed open, Bradley between them leaving gentle pecks, each one sending your legs into a spasm. Your handprints had been seared into the window, and you looked down at him with a lazy grin. 

You tugged on his hair to signal him, wanting him up by your mouth to kiss him. He moved, but not before sucking your clit and leaving a gentle kiss on the apex of your cunt one last time. He sat up, massaging your thighs, knowing they’d be sore tomorrow. 

Leaning close, you tugged him to you by the back of his neck, kissing him slowly, tasting you on his tongue. He moaned into your mouth, a cheeky grin on his face, “You sure you can’t give me one more?” He was mostly joking, but you shook your head no, laughing breathlessly at his pout.

You frowned in response, “Bradley, what about you? Let me—” but before you could finish he hushed you, “Don’t worry about me. This was about you and just seeing you get off on my tongue was enough.” He smirked, “Trust me, we both are satisfied.” 

He peppered kisses all over your face, “You did so good for me baby.” He kissed you once, “So so good.” He kissed you again, holding it a little longer, before moving back a little to look at you, fucked out and eyelids heavy, “You’re beautiful.” He murmured. 

You looked at him, noting his puffy lips that would be chapped tomorrow, his flushed cheeks, and the gentle expression he had as he admired you. “I missed you so much, Bradley.” You couldn’t get enough of him, pecking his cheeks and rubbing circles under his jawline. “Thank you,” You whispered, and you meant it. Bradley was extremely generous, but you forgot just how generous he was. 

“I missed you too Bugs.” He held his lips to your forehead, putting your hair behind your ears before shuffling to grab your pants. He was tempted to lick you clean, but your eyelids became heavy with each passing moment and he was sure he’d never hear the end of it if you were any later for your sleepover. 

Bradley was tender as he helped you dress, hands working on your muscles every chance he got. You were always sore the day after and he hadn’t forgotten. It’d taken you a while before you’d noticed your panties missing. Another laugh made its way out of you, “Bradshaw?” You called to him as you got your shoes back on. He looked at you, eyebrows creased. “Just where oh where, have my panties gone?” 

He looked around dumbfounded.  Feigning innocence. “I’m not sure Bugs. They might be stuck under the seat.” You didn’t buy it for a second. “Really?” You questioned. 

“Are you sure they aren’t hiding somewhere in your pocket?” You grinned lazily, enjoying yourself as you watched his neck flush red again. “For safekeeping?” He said meekly. 

“You’re lucky I like you.” You said, pecking him one more time before making your way to the front seat. The wind had picked up, causing sand to coat the car. It’d be a bitch to drive with the window shield, but it was a small price to pay if it meant no one could see just how wrecked Bradley had you. 

He threw a leg over the console, settling into the driver's seat. Bradley stole glances at you. Watching as your frame relaxed into the seat. He reached over and buckled you in, stirring you awake. 

“Shhh…I’ll drive you back to Penny’s. You might be an hour late, but you’ll make it for girls' night.” You grinned. “Ah, Amelia is going to kill me if I’m any later than Penny. Judging by the time, I’m cutting it close Mr.Bradshaw.” 

He kissed you, flattening your hair before starting the car. The ride back wasn’t long. Empty roads meant a 25-minute drive instead of 45. The hum of the car stirred you awake. Wind fitting itself around the car and lightly tapping the windows. You admired Bradley's side profile. He hadn’t realized you were awake and you took advantage of it, “You know…you stare kind of loudly.” He rasped out. 

Your hands came to cover your face. You looked out the window to avoid eye contact and he grabbed your thigh, wanting your attention. “So…you like me?” He questioned. 

Dumbfounded, it took a second before you recalled what you said before knocking out. 

“Bradley!” You exclaimed. His laughter reverberating and leaving a warm glow in your chest. 

taglist! (new thing i'll start doing from here on out, if anyone wants to be added let me know)

@that-daughter-of-hephaestus

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part eleven)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, ekko x reader college au

content: you and jayce finally have a chance to talk

notes: 18+ minors dni, smut (everyone jumped), oral (reader receiving), ice play, nipple play, overstimulated reader, kinda dom jayce omg, mentions of death, science talk (LMAOOOO i swear i chose simple topics)

i usually fkn hate slow burns but wanted to challenge myself to make something realistic and i hope this has been worth the wait. its a longer one like you guys deserve! jayce also is more dominant here but it makes sense for his character...in arcane he doesn't give me this vibe at all lmao.

ps. for the circuit mentions, if you need an example of the references they are making....google circuit battery diagram and you'll see some with four lines!

series master list

It was often you saw homes that were the epitome of modern—just white and drab and soulless. Jayce’s family home was different. You couldn’t help but see the character oozing off of it. It wasn’t completely run down. In fact, you could tell a lot of these changes were done in the last twenty years. Yet there was still color, wooden accents, and family photos lingering about that really made this space feel homely. 

“You grew up here?” 

“Yeah,” Jayce led you around a corner toward the back of the house. “Only ever lived here.”

Makes sense—this house resembled everything good about Jayce that you’d noticed. It had a fortitude that was undeniable yet an underlying warmth was always present. You liked that about Jayce—that even when he was angry it was always fueled by a desire to be better. He was mad at you for your voicemail, sure, but even more with himself for not equally splitting the time with his mom. You remembered how he talked about her often, how the love he had for her was eerily similar to that of your friends. The way you could empathize with him only having one person in this world meant you could never hate him, not really. 

“I’m just glad it’s close enough to school that I can commute.” He continued, not knowing you were only half listening. 

Eventually you emerged behind him into the garage. Looking around made it clear that this was his space. There were books, papers, and tools on every surface. He maneuvered in the garage with a fluidity that showed you that even in the clutter, he knew where everything was, probably preferred it this way. 

“Another reason why I love my mom is that she let me have the entire garage as my workshop—foster my gifts and whatnot.” He heard you chuckle from across the room, him now moving around quickly to make space for you. “Sorry it’s a mess.” 

“I’ve heard something about smart people having messy rooms so I get it.” 

He continued his mindless tidying, piling up papers and hanging his tools on the wall where they belonged. “What about you? Is your room a pigsty?” 

“You’ve been in my room, you tell me.” 

He fluffed some pillows on the couch and chairs, purposely avoiding eye contact with you. “Let’s just say it’s a miracle I escaped that biochemical hazard without boils all over my body.” 

You scoffed, moving over to him. Swiftly snatching a pillow, you launched it at his face. “You weren’t complaining when you were under my damn blankets. You know what, I actually prefer you sleeping—then I won’t have to hear your big mouth.” 

Jayce had caught the pillow and suddenly lobbed it up and served it like a volleyball—smacking it over toward you in return. “Please, you love to hear me talk.” He laughed as the pillow hit you back, impressed by his own aim. 

“Oh please, you and that mouth are so nasty and rude that I could go a lifetime without it.” You chuckled and tossed the pillow between your own hands. 

You expected Jayce to continue the playful banter—failing to realize he was immediately transported back to your argument. You called him rude, and then he’d been the epitome of it. He didn’t let a second pass before uttering out an apology. 

“I’m sorry.” He watched your face fall, twisting at his change in tone. “I was horrible to you and I didn’t mean any of that stuff.” 

“It’s fine. I started it and you were having a horrible day, week even. I was so insensitive and I feel horrible-“ 

He shook his head hard, “No it was me and I won’t forgive myself for that—for the way I acted that day.” 

The day after the kiss, one that felt so amazing when it happened. You related to Ekko most in that moment, that feeling of time escaping you without being able to do anything about it. It felt as though the moment ended as quickly as it started and it didn’t help that he ignored it the next day. Every second was truly precious, and he spent a ton of them making you feel unimportant. Even if by accident.

He sat down, and motioned for you to as well. Once you were across from him he continued, staring off into the distance. “I didn’t mean to just leave you. I tried, I swear I did. It only took me that hour to realize I was an idiot—that I…” He paused and inhaled, “I just saw her face and I knew something was wrong, something really bad happened and there was nothing I could do.” 

You shifted a bit but still let him talk, let him get it out. 

“Kino and Mel would sneak over here when we were younger, you know that?” His face lit up at the memory. “They didn’t have a good relationship with their mom so I’d just say ‘Come sleep here, you’ll be okay.’ That was until my mom found out.” He looked at you briefly, his eyes glossing over slightly before looking away again. “She let them stay whenever they wanted, tried to be the best role model for them.” 

You saw his fingers flexing, clawing at his own skin in an attempt to ground himself. Without thinking you moved closer, grasping his hands in your own. He looked up to a reassuring nod from you, one he returned. 

“Kino was my brother, in every way it mattered. So when I realized I lost him at the same time my mom was still stuck in the hospital…I just shut down.” 

“I get it, I do.” 

“I could’ve called you back, texted you. You had a right to be mad at me.” 

“No,” your voice cracked a bit, “I had other stuff going on and I took it out on you which wasn’t fair at all. I’m sorry.” 

He squeezed your hands before pulling one away to wipe his eyes. He let out a strained laugh, “So we’re both just some sorry asses then?” 

“Guess so.” 

Jayce let his hand fall, clasping over yours. Neither of you really acknowledged it until then, the way it felt to be in contact with each other again after so long. He wasn’t ready to face it, not yet. 

He pulled his hands away with a clearing of his throat—moving to stand. He rubbed his hands down the front of his pants, “Do you want a drink?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

He walked away without another word. This let you observe the space in greater detail. There was a white board filled with notes in his handwriting that you recognized. He color coordinated his writing but it was far too advanced for you to figure out what the reasons for that were. He’d moved his tools, but you noticed a great deal of them were small—almost as if he worked on intricate pieces often. There were larger ones too, like hammers and a nail gun. You shook your head, bewildered at what he could possibly need that for. As your eyes scanned you noticed he had a refrigerator, and yet he left the room to get you a drink. Shrugging it off, you picked up on the other inviting aspects of the space—the smell of cinnamon from a candle and worn cushions of chairs that made you feel all the more welcome. 

Eventually Jayce returned with two cups in his hands. He gave you a tight smile as he moved closer to the couch. You weren’t paying close enough attention, mindlessly reaching for one of the outstretched mugs with both hands. 

Before Jayce could tell you to be careful, you’d burned both your palms on the heated ceramic. 

“Shit!” You yelled out loud, hissing at the radiating pain. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Jayce sat the cups down. “I should’ve told you—I made hot chocolate.” He scrambled to his refrigerator, grabbing a makeshift ice pack he’d left in there. 

“It’s my fault—ahhh,” the sting was starting to hit more. “Hot glass looks like cold glass right?” 

He chuckled at the chemistry phrase, one often used when doing experiments. He’d recalled times in high school where a teacher would remind him that there was, in fact, no real way to tell a scalding glass from a cold one. That meant a lot of students got hurt for being careless, that and not wearing the proper clothing on lab days. 

“Give me your hands.” He slid in next to you on the couch, knees close enough to touch. “This might hurt a little.” 

“Can’t be worse than whatever degree these burns are.” 

He smashed and separated the ice that sat inside a ziplock bag into two. Outside of the bag rested pieces of fabric, a barrier he realized was necessary after many times of hitting his own fingers while at his workbench. He let your hands rest between his, alternating them in a pattern of one of his hands to yours, so as to put ice on both palms. 

The cold didn’t soothe yet, but stung at the sensitivity. You groaned, “Fuck this hurts—you were right. As usual.” 

The monotone sarcasm in your voice wasn’t lost on him, again making him laugh. In a split second, he noticed something. 

“This might be the wrong time…but I kinda thought of a way this could help with physics.” 

“It is absolutely the worst time, but I’m sure this’ll help me remember it for a test so go ahead.” 

He looked at your hands fondly, smiling at how perfectly it resembled part of a circuit diagram. “Our hands look like a battery here, you see?” He slowly turned your hand, making sure to maintain the pressure of the ice between them. “The way it’s a pattern—your hand, then mine…it looks like those four lines. You remember those?” 

“Yeah,” you searched in your mind to a few weeks back—a lecture that actually made sense because it was simply shapes and repetitive formulas. “Yeah, I remember the batteries. They have charges for each line, right?” 

“Positive and negative charge, yeah.” He took in a breath, looking again at your hands sandwiched together. Without trying his palms completely overtook yours, clearly much larger. It worked for his analogy, though. “If you think of my hands, of course, as positive—since I am just that amazing…then yours would be-“ 

“Negative?”

“Exactly, but the easiest way for you to remember is unfortunately because you were burned.” 

“I’m not following?” 

“Did the burn hurt?” 

“Yes…”

“Does pain feel good?” 

You hesitated, smirking slightly at the place your mind went to. “Well-“ 

“No, it doesn’t.” His hands shook then, his entire body moving at the deep laugh that escaped him. “My mentees cannot have their minds in the gutter—focus please.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You straightened your posture, faking a salute for emphasis. 

That immediately got another laugh from Jayce—one you could tell he deserved. He seemed drained, overwhelmed by everything. 

“Are you tired?” The question was random from you, but Jayce understood where it stemmed from. 

“Even if I was I’d fight it for you.” 

Your head tilted and your body stilled, “Stop-“ 

“I’m serious. I don’t care.” He shrugged.

“That’s how I know you’re exhausted, you’re talking crazy.” 

He grasped your hands a bit more firmly, pulling them toward him. He shuffled closer to you as he looked into your eyes—maintaining his stare even when you tried to look away. “It’s because of the kiss right, you think I regret it?” 

“No, I-“ 

“I don’t.” He looked at your face, eyes flickering how they did that night at the bar. His tone deepened, “I’d do it again if I had the chance.” 

You met his tone, teetering on the edge of something you both wanted but couldn’t put into words. “I don’t believe you.” 

“No?” He moved in closer, lips barely grazing yours. He looked up into your eyes and whispered, “How about now?” 

He finally pushed forward into you, letting the feeling of familiarity wash over you. Jayce’s movements were conscious; he was calculating every single detail about this. He wanted it to be right, to show you how much he appreciated the chance to kiss you again—that it wasn’t a mistake the first time. 

Without breaking the contact, he moved his hands to the side and discarded the ice packs on the table. Almost immediately you let your fingers wrap around his neck, ignoring the pain in your hands as you pulled him further into you. He was eager, slipping a tongue into your mouth that left you breathless. 

You felt your neck hit the arm rest of the couch, Jayce pushing you back into it as he worked over each of your lips individually. He didn’t want to let you go, never again—especially not when you’d been interrupted the last time. He wanted you in that moment. Jayce was ready to have you in the open and couldn’t care less if anyone saw. He’d have to settle for now, though. 

Somehow it was even better like this. Nobody was here except you. In every moment that his mind had been elsewhere, when he could sense your anxiety about the next thing you had to do...neither of you truly sat in your time together. You finally had the chance to be fully and completely together and he wouldn’t let you go. 

As if you heard his thoughts, you moaned into his lips. “God, I need you so bad right now.” 

He didn’t let another moment pass before sitting back and sliding his shirt over his head. You reached up, fingers tingling over the new sensation of his chest. Where he was so quick with himself, he was slow with you. He let his hands grip the bottom of your shirt and slowly rolled it up and over your head. You were bare on top now and lying under him. In any other situation you’d feel off letting him straddle you this way—overwhelmed by the sheer size of the man in front of you. This was different because of Jayce’s delicacy. 

His hands were large, yet they moved over your chest and nipples with such softness that you almost didn’t realize he was touching you. He moved back a bit as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. He focused on one, pulling the other into his mouth and sucking on it. He watched your eyes, completely entranced by his movement on you. 

He lifted his mouth for a second, “Gonna try something okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed out—shockingly getting worked up a lot over this alone. “Yeah, sure.” 

His hand left your nipple to which you immediately replaced it with your own—needing the feeling there at every second now. He kept his mouth on you, reaching over to the discarded ice on the table and grabbing two cubes. Lifting his face for a second, he placed one just between his teeth and put his head back down, immediately swirling the cube on your nipple. With the other, he held it between his fingers, teasing your now reddened skin of the opposite nipple. 

“Wow,” you choked out, fingers curling on themselves at the overwhelming stimulation. “That is—that is something.” 

He hummed into you, excited that he’d only just gotten started. The heat of him let the little ice chunks melt rather fast but the chill was still there as he sat back completely. Your chest was firm now, completely hardened by both him and the cold. He smacked each side of you one by one, smiling at the way you reacted—almost completely blissed out already. 

You spoke between ragged breaths, “You might actually be insane.” 

He simply shrugged and moved to pull your pants off. He dropped them on the floor beside the couch and grabbed another piece of ice. This time he kept the ice pinched between his thumb and index finger, moving to rub over you where you were already dripping for him. Your back arched as he reached between you, completely intrigued by how skillful he was. He continued like this, prepping you but not letting a single finger slip in despite your desperation. 

“Jayce-“ 

“Not yet.” 

“Please.” 

You were numb, the ice both heightening and relaxing your nerve endings. It was confusing and left you searching in your mind for an idea—of how good it would feel to finally have him on you. 

Eventually he gave up on the ice, ready to work you over on his own. He let his head fall and clasped his lips over you eagerly, letting his tongue flatten and move up and down on you. He simultaneously slipped in two fingers which made you sigh. Jayce felt your body relax into him and smiled at that, humming on you and adding to the sensation. Your insides pulsed, too, sucking him in and out and enticing him to go faster. He left his fingers spread, pressing against the outermost lining of your walls. He didn’t let his tongue and mouth slow, either, continuing to bob his head up and down and look at you through his lashes. 

You couldn’t keep the eye contact, but leaned your head back into the arm rest again. You let a hand fall into his hair, tugging at a lifeline to tether you to this reality. You wanted to be present with him for once. Your free hand fell to your face, slipping between your lips in an attempt to suppress the moans tumbling from you. 

He watched this and slipped a hand out of you immediately. Swatting the hand away he groaned out, “Don’t. I wanna hear.”  

“Fuck.” You couldn’t reply, too turned on by his needing to draw every sound from you, to hear his work on display. 

The pace of his hand and mouth were torturous and the snap in your groin as soon as you felt the familiar heat. He felt you convulsing and nudged you back down. 

“Just a bit more, okay? You can do it.” 

You weren’t sure you could. This was already so much—so good, but so much. 

He kept going, needing to feel this for just a bit longer. He didn’t care about him, only that you felt good. After a few more pumps he started to slow and pulled away from you, smirking to himself at the exchange. 

“You did great.” 

You could only huff at that, writhing at the air on you now. You were painfully aware of the fact that you were naked and sat up a bit. Jayce stalked around the garage, back muscles flexing how you’d never had a chance to see. You smirked as he slipped out, happy with yourself admittedly. 

Jayce came back with a rag and throw blanket, first wiping the sweat from your face then the mix of mess he’d left on you below. You didn’t move, still overwhelmed by him. He knew it, too, and simply threw the blanket he had over your body. 

He sat next to you, just observing the way your chest rose and fell. You didn’t ask anything of him, but you were owed an explanation. Even more so now. 

“I was afraid… that taking this step with you would hinder me from being what you need.” He paused, “I was afraid if I didn’t close myself off that I’d make you lose focus…lose your scholarship.” 

You looked at him, breath still ragged. You simply nodded in understanding. 

He kept going, though, “I’m so glad I met you and I’m sorry for saying otherwise.” 

There was a serious tone on him that scared you, a sincerity that not many people conveyed when they talked to you. You avoided it, had to. 

“I’m glad I was dragged into the student center that day…needed someone to tutor me really bad.” 

Jayce scoffed and playfully swatted your leg. “Let’s see how you feel when this tutoring suddenly stops, huh?” 

“So,” you arched a brow, “Is this a bad time to say that I failed my midterm and retakes are in two days?” 

“You’re not serious-“ 

“Unfortunately, I am.” 

Jayce looked down at you. “You know, this just means we get more time together. Just us.” 

You felt your face heat up at that, “Sounds amazing.” 

He leaned back into the cushions, mindlessly rubbing your knee with his hand. You enjoyed the silence with him—the first time in a while that it wasn’t laced with something completely intangible. 

part twelve

tag list

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @angelicmisty @1800latenitecreep @venus-in-roses @myxticmoon @rando-no-5 @pebble-bb @morosluvbug @gorgeouslylethal

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The evening shift is quiet. You don’t mind the low din of the atrium. The cafe offers the only light to the empty lobby. Hours ago, it was a rush of bodies and voices, now, the shops have closed down and the sign above you remains lit as the sole beacon in the business plaza. 

The slower hours are more routine than the frantic mornings filled with early risers desperate for their first dose of caffeine. You did a few weeks of that before you hopped on the evening’s rota. It gives you time to read between baking and cleaning. 

The front doors open and close, echoing through the space. It’s eerie this late at night but you it doesn’t bother you as much as it once does. The footsteps that follow add to the unease of their approach. You recognise the man by his silhouette. 

The marquee glow limns his harsh features, the stubble on his jaw adding to the sharp angles, his dark hair and brows give him a sinister slant. You smile as you stand from the stool and pour him a black coffee. You ring him up before he even gets to the counter. 

“Evening, sir,” you greet him. You still don’t know his name. All your other regulars like to chat. He doesn’t. “Black.” 

He flicks a card up between his index and middle fingers. The stamps across the rows add up to a free drink. You take it, brushing his calloused fingertips as you do. 

“Oh, a free drink. Exciting.” You cancel the transaction and slide his cup forward, “enjoy.” 

He grumbles and takes the cup. He moves to the other end of the kiosk and grabs a lid and sleeve. As he walks away, you bid him a good night. He never says much, if anything. 

You go back to sanitizing the frother. The work isn’t so dull when you have nothing else to do. The night wears on as the sky softens through the glass walls of the atrium   

Dayani arrives just before five to take over. You hand her the keys and balance the till before you go. She sends you off with the dread of the shift ahead. 

Out on the street, the lull remains. Not for much longer. The bus routes will pick up and the daily commuters will clog the streets. Your trek home is five blocks but not too bad considering. You share a loft with two other girls but you rarely run into them. You all work different shifts in different borroughs. 

Your room is at the rear of the old brick building. The legislated fire escape crosses your window and casts a shadow through the sheer curtains. You undress and unwind in your single bed. The room is small and not exactly worth the cost but it’s a roof over your head. 

You sleep until just after one. The city had you waking in spurts at the honk of an angry driver or the shouts of rowdy pedestrians. You eat the stale scone you claimed from work and have instant coffee to wash it down. 

You go through the usual. You wake up little by little and drag yourself out to the shower. You catch a glimpse of one of your roommates. Lottie barely seems to notice you as she carries a basket out the door. 

When you’re done washing up, you pull on your sweats and a loose tee. You waste some time watching TV on your phone then plug it in so you have some juice left when you leave. You eat a microwaved tray of pasta and change into your uniform. You do up your hair and face, nothing too much, and count the minutes until you’re due to leave. 

As exciting as the city can be, you can’t afford that part of it. You work, you sleep, you get by. 

Xander has an hour overlap with you before he goes. He tells you about all his midterms and the party he wants to ditch his studying for. It’s only an elective course anyway. He leaves in indecision. 

You never finished school. You did one year and dropped out. You did well enough but you couldn’t afford it. Not even the local community college in your hometown. Funny, you still came all the way out here to scrape pennies. 

The last rush of the day passes through. Those on the way to their own overnight shifts; security guards, hotel clerks, and all others. 

The silence sets in. You play around on your phone. The battery dies a lot quicker lately so you make yourself quiet the matching game and put it in your pocket. You pull out the novel you keep hidden behind the till and read until the door opens and closes. 

Same time, same man. His black hair swallows up the light of the sign above as you pour his coffee. You get him a new card and stamp it, handing it over with your usual smiling nicety. Still no response. He goes to grab his lid and sleeve. 

You wait patiently. He doesn’t march off like usual. You peek over as he strides along the counter. He drops a bill in the tip jar. You thank him. Still no answer. 

He walks off and you look in the cup. You can’t believe it. You snatch up the bill and push through the door at the side of the kiosk. You hurry after his shadow. 

“Sir, sir, I think you made some mistake--” the door closes heavily and his figure passes outside the glass panels. You can’t go that far without locking up. Oh well, he’ll be back tomorrow and you can let him know. 

You walk back to the cafe stand and dip back behind. You unfold the hundred dollar bill. Maybe it’s not real. Maybe it’s a joke. Looks pretty real when you hold it up to the light. 

[deathbecomesthem]

Blizzard

Eddie Munson x a Blizzard treat

MINORS DNI - +18 ONLY

For @jo-harrington. This was meant for your birthday, but we know that didn't happen. I love you forever.

Summary: Eddie works at the DQ and gets weird with some ice cream.

CW: Male masturbation, food play, brief discussion of vomit.

--

Eddie is torn between two paths of thought - needing cash in his pocket, therefore needing to go to work - and wondering what is the point of selling ice cream in the winter. The defroster in the van quit working in early spring, and Eddie had done what Eddie does - put it off. Well, now it’s cold again, and he’s wiping off as much of the frost accumulated on his windshield as he can with the crumbled Burger King napkins he found on the floor of the passenger’s seat.

He’s thinking about simply turning around and heading back into the trailer where he can at least crawl under the comforter in his bedroom to keep warm, and then he remembers that he can’t fix the defroster in the van without some form of income. Goddamn Rick for getting pinched again so soon after the last time. Eddie’s more than a little concerned that the next time he gets picked up it’s going to be for longer than the usual 90 days in lock up. How many strikes has it been? Surely more than three. Eventually Magistrate Johnson won’t be able to turn him loose on the good people of Roann County, even if that means facing the wrath of Rick’s favorite second cousin who also happens to be his wife. 

It could be worse, he could be working at the arcade still. It was 4 blissful hours behind the cash register before that red headed kid, Brant?, puked all over Donkey Kong. Eddie had a fleeting thought that he might be able to handle the situation, and then the smell hit him square in the face. He was out the door before Keith could get the mop from the back room, reaching back in to leave his name tag on Pac-Man as an afterthought.

Of course he knows that vomit can happen anywhere, but Eddie is fully prepared to immediately quit any job that requires him to get up close and personal with someone else’s bodily fluids. Technically, it’s a part of his side work to clean the bathrooms at the DQ after close, but technically, no one ever fucking checks, so technically, it’s the problem of whoever opens the next day. It doesn’t matter, this job is just a placeholder. Well, that’s what he tells himself, anyway.

Eddie climbs up into the cab and turns the key. The old girl coughs back, but ultimately turns over. He kisses the ends of his fingers and pats the dash. Good girl. He cranks the defroster while saying a little prayer that maybe it fixed itself overnight. Regardless, he needs that air to keep the windshield from fogging up while he makes his 15 minute commute to the edge of town. It’s a blizzard out there, and the irony isn’t lost on him. Driving in a blizzard to serve blizzards for $3 an hour.

—

“There he is,” Eddie can hear Lynn before he can see her. He’s late again. 

“Sorry,” Eddie calls as he shakes the snow off his jacket. He grabs an apron that’s just clean enough to not give him the heebie jeebies, and heads towards the front of the store. “The roads suck, maybe we should just shut it down for the night…”

Lynn is standing at the cash register, but she’s not alone. A customer is standing in front of her, and not just any customer. It’s you. Eddie slows his steps and lowers his head, as if he could disappear behind the curtain of his curls. 

“Eddie, can you please get your ass over here and take over the register? I need to get home before the babysitter decides to take off. Three days in a row, Munson.” Lynn doesn’t wait for Eddie to acknowledge her words, she’s pushing her way through the kitchen to the back door while he’s still tying his apron strings.

Eddie takes in a breath and looks up to meet your eyes. He’s pleased to see you still looking at the menu above his head so he can scan your face unobserved. You got your hair cut since he last saw you; it’s sitting on your shoulders under your blue knit hat. 

“Can I get a small Oreo blizzard -” you bring your gaze down to the person standing at the cash register and “- Oh, Eddie. I didn’t know you work here.”

It’s a blur, the next 10 minutes. As soon as it’s over, he couldn’t tell you what he said. The only thing he knows is that there’s heat in his cheeks even after he watches your back go through the front door of the store holding the paper cup of ice cream. If you had asked him before this interaction tonight, he would have pegged you as an M&M blizzard person. 

Eddie remembers that you liked M&Ms. You sometimes ate them secretly in Algebra class when Mrs. Harrison wasn’t watching. He would watch you reach into the front pocket of your backpack to get a piece of candy, and place it on the end of your red tongue. Just the memory is making the front of Eddie’s jeans uncomfortably tight. 

He sighs to himself, you’re not a goddamned teenager, Eddie. He’s looking out into the empty parking lot as your red brake lights disappear in the swirling snow. It really is stupid to be selling ice cream in this weather. The dining room is empty. Hell, the roads are empty. And you’re as hard as a rock, Munson.

Logic is out the window now, his erection is running the show while he prepares the ice cream treat. Not Oreo, but M&M. He tries not to consider that the smell of vanilla soft serve is making him even harder as the vibrations of the blizzard machine travel up his arms. He’s not thinking about where this is inevitably going to end.

Eddie locks the doors - front, side, and back - all with the blizzard clutched in his hand. Vanilla ice cream is melting down the palm of his hand. He scans the street again, only to continue to see no signs of life. He sighs in relief that there are no witnesses to what he’s about to do.

He allows himself to have a brief feeling of regret about not cleaning the bathroom thoroughly before pushing the thought out of his mind. It’s not that bad. Not really. Besides, his back is staying firmly against the door. It’s locked. He lets himself envision your open mouth, tongue peeking between lips. With his free hand, he feels the outline of his erection and moans.

Ice cream is dripping on the floor as he unzips his jeans and frees himself. He brings the ice cream to his mouth and his tongue laps at it. He strokes himself. He licks at the cold, sugary treat. He squeezes and bites the lip of the paper cup. Sticky melted ice cream runs down his chin while he runs his thumb over his slit. 

He doesn’t think about it. It’s instinct. His erection shrinks at that initial shock of cold, and then he gets his rhythm. The cup is too small to accommodate his entire length, but Eddie doesn’t even notice. He’s thrusting as hard as he can, his cock threatening to break through the bottom of the paper cup. 

Oh, Eddie! I didn’t know you worked here. You look so good. Eddie’s eyes are closed tight. He sees you with that blue knit hat on your knees in front of him. Mmmm, M&Ms, my favorite. It’s embarrassing how quickly he can come just at the image of your open mouth. Your tongue.

Eddie’s hips thrust into vanilla ice cream with crushed candy bits while his jeans are dropped around his ankles until he unloads his need into the back of that paper cup. He’s left with an M&M and jizz blizzard dripping down his thighs at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday evening in a fairly disgusting DQ bathroom. 

“Fuck it,” Eddie says, pulling up his jeans over his sticky legs. He wipes up most of the ice cream and M&M pieces from the tile floor, it would be wrong to make Lynn clean that up tomorrow. He leaves his apron and name tag on the counter before walking out the back door. 

Maybe Johnny over at the Shell is looking for a clerk.