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#*staring at page* I have no idea who any of these people are
phoenixcatch7 · 2 years
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Doe anyone else do that thing where they binge a whole series of something, I'm talking hours and hours of content, and just.
Have no idea what anyone's names are.
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fingertipsmp3 · 9 months
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Why is my friend’s brother messaging me
#i know this doesn’t sound concerning in any way but consider: i do not care for this man#i mean i don’t dislike him but i don’t want to speak to him because i genuinely never have any idea what to say to him#he’s one of those people who you feel like you can’t have a conversation with without being wrong#not that he’s critiquing what i say or anything. it’s just like. we are so categorically not on the same page. ever#i’m not even sure we’re reading the same book#like to give an example; the last time i saw him was on tuesday right. the FIRST thing he says to me (no hello; no how are you doing)#is ‘still crippled???!!?’ which… first of all yikes; second of all who told you about the knee. idk what i said. i think i just stared#then he follows it up with ‘are they operating on your knee then??’ ‘well no; it’s not as bad as all that’ ‘so what are they doing to fix it#‘well i’m in physio and i’m doing my exercises—‘ ‘so have they given you a timeline then?’ ‘well… no? recovery isn’t really a linear process#‘so what are you doing for work now’ ‘well i’m not working’ ‘because of the knee? that’s a bit shit then. you need to find something where#you can sit down’ ‘yeah i know. thanks’#this is how pretty much any conversation with him will go. like he just sort of steamrollers over you with no tact#plus he thinks anyone who’s unemployed is useless and iiiiii am unemployed#we just have zero common interests and i don’t know why he wants to talk to me because i sure as hell don’t want to talk to him#amazingly enough i don’t enjoy being grilled on my employment or medical history by people i barely know#and his only other conversation topics are cars; how stupid he thinks liberals are….. yeah that’s about it#my friend said the other day that apparently he wants to take me out to dinner and i was like. what. why#PLEASE prevent this at all costs like genuinely i’d rather spend two hours in the seventh circle of hell#i just don’t get it. at all. like pick on someone your own age AND your own size who likes cars and is ablebodied and employed. PLEASE#personal
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subwaysurf45 · 1 year
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She’s Not Mad
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Summary: Bucky Barnes was a known people pleaser, it was second nature to him. After meeting you and getting close you both try to navigate his eternal stressed state, working together you try your best to tone down his obsessive ways. 
Words: 9k (if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been...)
Warnings: Bucky has mommy issues, mentions of oral sex, nudity, angst, fluff, college!bucky, slow burn
A/N: thanks for the patience! 
Masterlist
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A Couple of Weeks Ago…
“So, you’re not a thing?” Bucky asked as he shoved his laptop and notebook back into his bag, grabbing the handle of his water bottle and choosing to carry it with him for the walk. 
The two boys were higher up in the rows of the lecture hall as they peered over the two girls talking to the professor. Steve had his eyes drilled into Natasha, the girl standing off to the side as her friend went over a question she had. 
“She told me she is still figuring out her feelings since her last serious relationship,” Steve sighed as he packed up as well, “and I told her I’d wait- apparently this guy’s parents had given their family engagement ring and everything.” 
Bucky pulled the corner of his lips out tight as they began to walk down the stairs, “who’s the other girl?” 
“The one that was just asking the question is Y/N,” Steve watched as both girls left the room, “good friends, met last year, live together now.” 
“She’s cute,” Bucky said purely, no smirk or innuendo.
********
You sat over your laptop in the library with both hands acting as a brim to cover your eyes from the people around you. Tears rolled down your face as you studied the practice question, you felt pathetic and you tried to sniffle as quietly as possible. If anyone saw you silently bawling you’d drop out, it was stupid enough already when the librarian walked over and dropped a tissue box off without saying a word. 
“What do you mean?” you whispered to the page for the hundredth time, hoping for some answer. 
You had done the homework, you went to the study groups, you even extended your prof's office hours because you wanted to make sure you were doing everything right. Yet here you were, sitting alone on a Friday night because you still can’t do the practice assignment. Quitting felt like the only option, it wasn’t like everything was going to click; it was too late. 
This was just going to become the thing that you could never do, simple as that. Sometimes there are subjects that no matter how hard you try, you don’t have the flair. It was a tough pill to swallow but you’d never be able to do any work if you’d continue to hold yourself to a high standard, it was a win to get the little things right, not the entire question. 
The idea of failing was new to you. The jump from high school to college was still something you never adapted to, you always expected nineties on everything and not the mindset that C’s get degrees. 
Trying to do the question was like beating a dead horse, you needed a break. You ran your hands over your face and leaned back in your chair, hearing pops from your back as you did so, until you were leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. When you looked straight you saw someone already staring at you. 
He had longer brown hair that hit his jawline, blue eyes that jumped out at you, and a very concerned look on his face. He was familiar but you didn’t know what it was from. 
“Are you Natasha’s friend?” The guy came up to your empty table. 
“Yeah?” You wiped away your tears, extremely confused as he pulled out the chair right beside you to sit at the eight sided table. 
“I’m good friends with Steve, I think the two of them have something going on- not important, but I kind of know you and I'd rather not leave someone I kinda know alone crying, so…” he rubbed the back of his neck, “are you okay?”
“Do I look okay?” you rolled your eyes and faced your computer again, “the absolute last thing I need is something watching me cry, alright?” your bottom lip wobbled as you kept your eyes away from his at all times. 
He was still staring at you, “come on,” he sighed and moved his hand to comfort you but thought otherwise, “I’m not going to laugh at you or run and tell everyone I know I saw a girl crying in the library- y’know what they’d say?” You could see him tilt his head, “they’d say what’s the big deal, haven’t we all?” 
You scoffed, “no they wouldn’t.” 
“You’re calling me a liar?” 
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Bucky,” he stuck out his hand, “Bucky Barnes.” You shook his hand, “and since I am a Barnes and was raised by my ma I simply can not let this continue, it’s my obligation to either cheer you up or take you home.” 
You scoffed again and tried your best to hide your smile, “and I’m Y/N, and in my family we stress about everything and never give up so I can’t leave until I get this question, so…”
Bucky’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he flipped the laptop to face him a little better, “this is the class all four of us have together, alright,” he read over the question and immediately furrowed his brows before looking at you again, trying your best to hold it together. He knew the answer but couldn’t bear to see your reaction, it was painfully obvious you were beating yourself stupid over these questions. 
“Can you take a deep breath for me?” he asked like he was talking to a child. 
“I barely know you, dude,” you crossed your arms and ripped your laptop back to face you, “and I’ll have you know I don’t need a man to come in here and explain everything to me, alright, I’m going to figure this out on my own and I don’t need you, okay? So just head home, tell Steve I say hi.” 
Bucky took a deep breath himself, “that question isn’t marked on the homework, the reason you can’t get the answer is because the way to get it has most likely not been taught yet,” he paused and saw your face crumble, “and I didn’t want to freak you out because you look like you’ve been here a while and you seem to be beating yourself up and I just couldn’t-”
“Stop,” you whispered and covered your face with your hands, “just stop talking.” 
And he did. 
Trying your best to calm your breaths, it didn’t work. So fucking stupid, unbelievable, there’s no way you just spent close to an hour staring at a problem you didn’t even have to do in the first place. 
“Can you walk me home?” you squeeked. 
“Of course,” Bucky stood up right away and started helping you pack your bag, “I have some water, do you want it?” He held up his water bottle. You nodded and began drinking as you both made your way outside and towards your off-campus house. 
“Did you need to study?” you asked as you screwed on the cap. 
Bucky laughed and looked up at the night sky, “I was going for a walk because I heard there was a blood moon tonight, and there is, look,” he point up and saw the red mood looming above both of you, “and I just happened to walk past the library, I looked in the window and recognised your laptop as well as your hair, funny enough,” he laughed as he looked forward again. 
“So you just came in to see me?” you needed to make sure you were hearing this right, it’s not like it happens often. 
“I was going to introduce myself to you actually,” Bucky shrugged and looked over at you, “I know Steve and Nat are trying to figure things out and I thought friends of two people who might date should know one another. Then I saw you crying so I changed my game plan.”
You just nodded, slightly brushing into Bucky’s arm as you walked. It was hard to stay straight with the exhaustion taking over, every now and then you’d brush your knuckles past Bucky’s. He was a cute guy, and something about him being oh so caution around you made you feel important. 
“This is me,” you said later as you walked up the steps, “thanks Bucky, I hope we can be friends.” 
Bucky smiled and stood at the bottom of the steps, “if you ever get in your head again like that and need someone to pull you away, let me know- even in the middle of the night, alright?”
“Alright,” you laughed with your hand on the door handle. 
“I’m serious, Y/N. I look after the people close to me, I look after friends of friends like siblings,” there was no joking in his tone, it seemed other people doubted him on this promise. “I’ll give you my number,” he hand reached out for your phone. 
“I’ll be fine, you seemed to have good luck running into me,” you giggle and open the door to your house. Before it fully closed you felt resistance, looking over your shoulder you saw Bucky holding open your door. 
He was smiling, “then give me your number for another reason.” 
“Oh?” you turned and placed a hand on your chest, “you’re rather forward. 
“Well being cryptic didn’t work, did it?” He laughed and held out his hand again, “come on, I might need a study buddy one day- or even better, a lunch buddy.” you laughed as he tried to duck to meet your eyeline, “you don’t want to be my lunch buddy?”
“I’ll be your lunch buddy,” you giggled and handed him your phone, he wasted no time adding it in. “Goodnight,” you whispered and made it into your house, leaning back and resting against the door. You thought for a moment before breaking into a massive smile, replaying how he tried to keep eye contact with you. Or how he’d been so proud of how his mother raised him- “son of a bitch,” you whispered. 
He walked you back home and cheered you up. 
Just like he said he would. 
A Few Days Later…
Your phone must be hacked or something because your weather app said it would be completely clear today and sunny in the afternoon. As you sat in the cafe you thought it would clear up but it was only getting worse. 
All you needed to do was brave the rain and make your way home, but waiting for the perfect time when everything would let up for a moment was pointless. 
Walking as fast as you can with your head down, you saw your grey sweatpants become a darker shade instantly. It was a straight downpour with absolutely no sign of letting up, you swore you heard thunder when you waited at the crosswalk. Due to your phone lying to you, you had not brought a hooded article of clothing or umbrella so you just had to deal with everything going wrong. 
There definitely was thunder and the lightning was right above you, it seemed like you were the last person on Earth because everyone else was smart enough to stay inside right now; but not you. Down your little street you began to run, trying to get away from the lightning that was chasing you. 
If you could guess you’d say most people who had been struck by lightning most likely thought they were too far away, in denial as the sky opened up from above. It was hard to admit you were actually a little scared at that moment, rain getting in your eyes as you sprinted down to your house that was now in view. 
With your key at the ready you fell inside, slamming the door behind you. 
Natasha rounded the corner, “you idiot, I was trying to call you!” She screamed and saw your state, “Steve and Bucky are over-they drove over they could have picked you up,” Natasha got in your face to peel off the sweater, taking it off right over your head and leaving you in your bralette and those drenched sweatpants. 
“You took off my shirt when there’s boys here?” you whispered as you began to shake, covering your chest with crossed arms. 
“We guessed you were walking back so we put towels in the dryer,” as if on cue Bucky rounded the same corner with your fluffy towel ready, “thank you Bucky,” Natasha wrapped it around your shoulders. 
“Hi, Bucky,” you squeeked, “glad we keep meeting like this.”
Natasha had walked upstairs, most likely getting different pants. Bucky got down on one knee and slipped off your shoes, “like what?” he asked as he looked up, he reminded you of a little puppy somehow. He was as big as a great dane but there was an underlying softness that made you want to hug him or just let him wrap his arm around you. 
You huffed as you pulled the towel tighter, “when I’ve just done something embarrassing and you’re there to save the day.”
Bucky stood up with his arms crossed, “only you would think crying or getting caught in the rain is embarrassing,” he shook his head and reached out to rub your shoulder that was covered by the towel, “I like helping and I like making sure people I know are okay, you know this.”
“I do,” you whispered and walked further in your house. Before you could get anywhere near comfortable Natasha whisked you away to change your soggy pants as well as throw on a sweater, they had also been thrown in the drier, everything was very toasty and warm.
Steve was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at the football game going on. Natasha guided you back in and towards the couch. There was enough room for four of you but you knew thighs would be pressed up against one another, you were okay with that if Bucky was sitting beside you. Though you don’t see him often it was nice when you did even though you made it seem like it was embarrassing. Something about having someone who loves taking care of people take care of you so well caused you to crave it a little more. 
Bucky came around the couch with a mug, “hot chocolate for you,” he whispered and took the spot beside you, next to the arm rest. You thanked him and let your hand slightly burn on the mug when you held it, liking how the warmth began to spread up your arms. Natasha found her spot on the other side of you while Steve stayed on the edge, leaning forward and never looking away from the game. 
“This is really good,” you sipped it and whispered to Bucky, he just smiled and leaned into your side for a moment. 
“What were you working on?” he asked after a moment. 
“I was at the cafe for a little treat but before I was doing my elective course,” you spoke softly. It seemed like everything happened for a reason because you only got food at the cafe which left room for this hot chocolate now. 
“And that is?” Bucky giggled as he leaned forward again. 
“Art history,” suddenly, you were coy. Most people thought your elective was a bird course but to you it was actually interesting, it wasn’t often you were met with a positive response. 
His eyes got wide, “that’s sick!” Bucky readjusted himself off the couch, “I would have never even thought of that course, wow, that’s really cool. So, like, what do you-”
“Bucky, I love you, brother, I really do but-” Steve sighed, “can you please be quiet, this game is very important.” 
“I didn’t think the Big Game was on today?” you asked as you took another sip. 
“It’s not that,” Steve places his beer down, “it’s the State Cup Finals, it’s college football.” 
Natasha smiled and looked over, “his team’s the underdog and are actually on the road to winning the entire thing!” She giggled and linked an arm with Steve who was happy to cuddle up with her, “it’s actually very exciting once you learn the ins and outs of it.”
You just nodded and faced forward again, seeing Bucky out of the corner of your eyes rubbing his thumb on the neck of his beer bottle, staring off into space. The moment you leaned your head on his shoulder he looked over at you, your heart broke when you saw a sad smile. He was just trying to talk to you, he got excited for you and here he was being scolded. 
“Do you want to come look at some of my notes, or are you into this game?” you whispered and saw his eyes light up, both of you quickly stood and headed up stairs with your bag slung over your shoulder. 
The moment you walked into your room you felt everything slow down, Bucky slowly walked in and looked around. He was smiling to himself as he l took in your photos on the walls or posters, even your to do list seemingly growing on the white board you have mounted to one wall. 
You sat on the corner of your bed as he flipped through your notes, “so you’re, like, breaking down these paintings, it's not just the history of when they were painted?”
“Oh yeah,” you fiddled with the hem of your dry sweater, “most of these artist go insane and we look for that in the work or even just what was happening during the time with stuff that you’d learn in a normal history class but we look at if and when it get put into art,” this was your little thing you could talk about for ages, “very cool stuff.” 
Bucky nodded and flipped the pages, “your notes are amazing,” he whispered, “you’re a pretty good student, huh?” he looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there, just staring at him as he made his way around your room. “What?” he giggled and made his way over to you, holding his hand out to get you to stand up. 
“Nothing,” you tucked your chin to your chest, getting coy at the attention. “You’re just…y’know, sweet.” 
Bucky just smiled and rubbed your arm, giggling as you both stared at one another for a moment. “Do you want to go back down?” 
“Sure,” you nodded and leaned forward, smiling as you both made your way back downstairs. 
The rain still worked its way down your windows as the beers and wine kept flowing. The game had ended a while ago but Steve and Bucky didn’t see a reason to leave, it was a good moment that no one wanted to end. You had finished your hot chocolate and moved onto wine, sipping it slowly as everyone talked. It was nice to be brought into this group even though it stemmed from Nat and Steve, there was good chemistry between the four of you. 
Talking to everyone was effortless, you didn’t need to act like someone else to fit in. no one was yelling over someone else to get their point across, there weren't any passive aggressive tones in anyone's jokes, it was carefree. It was relaxing to have people this easy to talk to. 
The only thing that wasn’t relaxing was the amount of times you caught Bucky staring at you. Everyone had migrated to the floor with their backs against different furniture so you could break out the board games, Bucky was sitting adjacent to you on your right and Steve adjacent on your left, Nat right in front. Every single move whether it be placing a card down or moving your little object around the board Bucky would find a reason to look at you. 
“Good one,” he’d pat your shoulder. 
“Let me move your piece for you,” he’d say before you could reach across the table. 
“Sorry…” he’d smile before taking your little object and moving it back four spots. 
He was very attentive, always watching and scanning. But the more you noticed it the more you figured out he was doing it to everyone, including Steve. Something happened whenever Bucky would either move Steve’s piece for him or go get another beer so he wouldn’t have to stand up, Steve would give this look. It seemed as though he was silently telling Bucky he knew something or he was pointing something out that had been a topic of conversation before. Bucky would try to laugh it off but Steve was very protective of Bucky, you just didn’t know why. 
The games had slowly come to a close, everyone not drunk but a little more than tipsy. Giggles flowed freely around the table as the conversation resumed again, your eyes were growing heavy as you traced the rim of your glass. 
“I’ll be back,” Bucky muttered as he headed to the washroom. 
The moment the door closed Steve sighed, “this kid.” 
“What?” you were getting protective, why was Steve about to talk shit about his best friend? 
Steve just shook his head, “It’s hard to see how badly Winnie fucked him up.” 
Your heart plummeted. Any tiredness had left your body faster than the little gasp escaped your lips. Who was this Winnie girl and why did he mess Bucky up? The thoughts circled your head, was he in an abusive relationship? Natasha looked like she didn’t know either, pouring more wine into her cup. 
When Bucky came back he sat closer to you and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrapped your arm around his. He must have been a little surprised but you rested your head on his shoulder and continued on like it was nothing. 
You were half asleep when Bucky tried to do something for Steve, maybe get him another beer but whatever it was it left Bucky looking like a sad puppy because Steve said, “Buck, relax, I can get my beers, thank you, but I got it, alright?”
Steve's tone was soft but also commanding, he wasn’t annoyed at all. With your eyes closed you pieced it together that Steve was trying to help Bucky in some way, maybe get him to relax a little more. It was out of love but Bucky was very quiet for the rest of the night. 
********
You and Bucky had started hanging out a lot more on your own. There were a lot of late night drives or study sessions, Bucky always came to the library to walk you home if you stayed late or had turned your brain into mush during your studying. 
What Steve had said stuck with you more than you thought it would, it didn’t impact how you saw Bucky but it made you more aware of his people pleasing tendencies. You wanted to do the same as Steve, tell him it was okay but you weren’t as close. You saw how hurt he was the last time and you just couldn’t do it to him. 
Currently you were both sitting on his bed, the movie was wrapping up. Half of his laptop sat on one thigh and the other half sat on Bucky’s, your arms were linked and there was a steady brushing of your thumb on his forearm. In all honesty, you thought you were lulling him to sleep when you looked up five minutes ago to see him fighting his dropping lids. 
When the movie faded to black both of you sat there for a moment, content with the sitcom that was coming up next. You looked up again to see him with his face scrunched up, his other hand was on his back. 
“What is it?” you asked and leaned over, he was rubbing a specific spot on his lower back with his thumb. 
Bucky held his breath as he leaned forward to move his hand, “I was working out this morning and there weren't any belts left for my deadlifts and I did something to my back.”
“Do you want a massage?” you offered, he’d do the same for you. 
“I’m okay, thanks,” he looked down at your head resting on his bicep. 
“I didn’t know you worked out,” you smiled, “you don’t have the, like, bodybuilder physique.”
Bucky laughed and wiped at his eyes, giggling to himself before answering. “I don’t want that look, but…” you could see the boast on the top of his tongue, he poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek. 
“Tell me!” you sat up, taking the laptop off your lap so you could fully face him now, “are you, like, ripped or something?” you both laughed as he hugged himself so you couldn’t feel or see anything, “you are, shut up!” you placed both hands on his shoulders, his face so red from laughing and embarrassment you just wanted to take a bite out of it. 
“Steve calls it a sleeper build,” Bucky managed to wheeze out, he was trying to play-fight you off of him. 
“What the fuck is that?!” you gasped as your hands reached out but he copied you and intertwined his fingers with yours. 
“It’s when someone has muscle but you can’t really see it in normal clothing,” his face was calming down as well, but that stupid smile was still on his face. “It just kinda happened, just how I am.”
You tried to move his arms around but you couldn’t, his fingers were still tightly woven with yours. You just laughed and fell back into him, cuddling up again. “I had a friend's mom who was an actual masseuse, so…” you shrugged, “I actually know what I’m doing because she’d give me massages and walk me through her process.”
“You just want to take my shirt off, don’t you?” Bucky taunted. 
“I want to make sure you’re not uncomfortable the entire time we hang out and for the rest of the week,” you giggled before snuggling into his arm again and watching the show that had come on randomly. 
It took three days before Bucky came back for that massage. 
You were hanging out again like normal and he was still trying to relieve the ache in his lower back. It was becoming sad to see him so uncomfortable so you kept reminding him of your excellent massage skills. After what you counted as his third groan of pain you just looked at him and soon enough he was asking you to turn around so he could take his shirt off and lie down. 
Choosing your angle to stand with your back to him was a science, you wanted to make sure you had the mirror to look at but you also didn’t want to make it obvious. Part of you hated yourself for wanting to catch and peek at his body but it was infamous now, you just had to look. 
And my god was it worth it. 
It wasn't an obnoxious amount of muscle that made it seem like the strength drained from his brain and into his arms. The sleeper build comment was right, you had no idea. His chest made you feel comfortable and protected, the kind of chest you’d want to fall into when the subway starts up too quick and you’re not holding onto anything. His arms were, and you already knew this, amazing at covering so much surface area for hugs. They were secure and trustworthy, you knew that when you hugged him he had you; it also helped to remember when he’d whisper it in your ear. 
“Okay,” his voice was muffled by pillows at the top of your bed. 
You turned around and were greeted by his back which was also an amazing sight, the kind of body sculptors would use and their go-to subject if no one else was there. “I have some lotion on my hands,” you warned and pressed your palms onto his back and quickly began spreading the lotion around. 
Though this wasn’t a proper table and he was resting on one cheek instead of face down you knew this was the best he’d get for a college kid. You started all over and slowly worked your way to focusing on his lower back. When you felt the knot you knew you found it, the thing was massive. The low groan Bucky let out was close to pornographic as you dug into him. 
Something about seeing him grip the sheets, making his veins pop out, did something to you. At first you only really saw Bucky as another friend or a good member of the friend group you stumbled your way into. But the more you spent one-on-one the more you realized he was your perfect guy. Any guy can be perfect physically but his personality enhanced your view for him, it made you appreciate his looks even more. 
His laugh always brought out the crinkle in his nose and those pretty teeth, the sound of him giggling was music to your ears and also was the perfect accompaniment to his squinted eyes or broad smile. The same with his little fist pumps he does when beating you at a game either around a group of friends of a video game, that stupid celebration he does every time causes him to flex his bicep but that’s secondary to the little circles he makes with his fist.  
You kept working away and looking at his rested face once in a while, seeing his eyes closed and the relieved look on his face. There was something so pure about watching the guy your slowly obsession over fall into simple relaxation all because of you, it was a treat. 
“How’s that?” you whisper, “Bucky?” trying to make sure your pressure wasn’t too hard for him you wanted to check in, but he had fallen asleep. With the opportunity in front of you, you reached out and placed your bent knuckles along his cheek, feeling the stubble tickle your fingers. 
You found him blanket on his bed and covered him up so he wouldn’t get cold with his shirt off, before leaving you placed a kiss on his forehead before heading downstairs for a snack. You also wanted to give him space, let him sleep peacefully. 
Steve was down there when you got there, another roommate of his cooking as you found Bucky’s section of snacks to choose from. 
“Where’s Bucky?” Steve asked as he looked over his shoulder, not for long due to the football playing on the TV. 
“Sleeping upstairs,” you ate the goldfish as you rounded the couch to watch the game. 
He seemed taken aback at your casualness, “what did you guys do…?” he slowly looked over, most likely trying to see if your hair was disheveled or anything was blossoming on your neck. 
“I gave him a massage,” you shrugged and fell back onto the couch, “his lower back has been killing from his workout a while ago.” 
You could see Steve look over his shoulder to see if his roommate was also hearing this, he looked over at you again and squinted. “So- and correct me if I’m wrong here- you gave Bucky a massage and put him to sleep and now you’re down here getting a snack?” 
“You would be correct,” you smiled, “would you like to do a once over of my neck for hickies or maybe rummage through the trash for condoms?” you sassed and plopped a few more goldfish in your mouth, “I was helping him.” 
That statement made Steve look over his shoulder again. The roommate just shrugged with a smile before heading down to his room in the basement, noodles steaming from the cup. You just looked at Steve as he tried to piece together everything, it was actually funny to see him try to understand. 
“Bucky doesn’t accept help from anyone,” Steve turned to face you, “it’s his thing to never want to be in debt with anyone when it comes to favours of any sort.” 
“Well,” you just sighed, “I’ve been picking up on that too but I got to him I guess, he let me do something for him.” That was all you could say because you didn’t have a full background of why Bucky didn’t accept help from anyone you just knew he didn’t; the only clues you had were Winnie and her role in this. 
“That’s good,” Steve quickly added, “I’m far from saying it’s bad, trust me, it’s just he’s been in a funk for a while when it comes to that stuff, it ebbs and flows.” 
“Do you think he’ll ever tell me?” you asked as you watched the game, too embarrassed of the question to look at Steve. It seemed there was this vital piece of information that made Bucky who he was that was dangling right in front of your face, you were falling for him but that thing that made him him was out of reach. When Steve first made the statement he siad that this Winnie girl fucked him up which implied something bad much have happened and that can also mean something isn’t necessarily right. You were never going to fix Bucky but you did want to understand so you could help be a better friend to him and not unconsciously get in the way of his mindset. 
Steve nodded, “he’ll definitely tell you,” he looked over and smiled, “I mean, you’re all he ever talks about, this kid is head over heels for you  it’s just…some guys have hard times coming to terms with their past, he’ll get there though.” 
“I know,” you nodded, “I’ll obviously never force it out but I do want him to be aware I’m here to listen, y’know?” 
“He knows,” Steve laughed and stood up, going to the cupboard and grabbing a little snack for himself as well. 
You took a deep breath before standing up and heading back upstairs, you were guessing Bucky was still fast asleep. When you opened the door you found him still laying on his bed in the exact same position, only now there was little snores coming from him. 
With a pout you crawled back onto the bed and sat next to him, placing your hand on his back and sliding it down to his arm that was bent up so his hands could rest under the pillow. Your thumb gently rubbed his arm for a moment before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it. 
The boredom ate away at you, instead of scrolling through your phone you went to his dresser to find some clothes you could change into so you could crawl under his sheets and sleep over. When you pulled open his top drawer you were met with his underwear and socks as well as a box of condoms tucked to the side, you just giggled to yourself at the painfully college male sight in front of you. 
Something about wearing his boxers made your face heat up, that was a level of intimacy you wanted to reach with him one day but you didn’t know if it was time. Looking over your shoulder after a particularly loud snore you smiled to yourself and picked up a black pair, as you held it up you remember seeing the waistband sticking out of his jeans while he reached above his head to grab something for someone - you weren’t focused on his actions at the time. 
Quickly slipping your pants off and pulling up the boxers you maneuvered to his closet, finding your favourite hoodie he wore very often. This moment of intimacy, moving around Bucky’s room while he wasn’t aware, caused a surge of confidence to shoot through you. Though you had never talked to Bucky about what the relationship between you was, you knew both of you could agree there was no room for girlfriends or boyfriends for either of you, this was the time to build the foundation for something better later. Having this idea of only being the girl in his room you took off your bralette and tucked it back in his top drawer, across from the condoms.
You didn’t choose this bra specifically but you were wearing a slightly lacey bralette, it was far from lingerie but the lace added something to it. Making sure you put it where it wouldn’t be obvious but also not hiding it, you grew giddy at the image of Bucky finding it. 
Before getting in his bed you tugged and tugged the sheets under his body before managing to get the covers fully out from under him. You scooted in and pulled the sheets up to cover both of you, it seemed he really needed the sleep because nothing was waking him up, not even the little hug you gave him before turning off the lights and falling asleep beside him. 
********
You were sitting in class aimlessly scrolling through your phone during your five minute break in your lesson, your art history professor was one of the best teachers you've ever had. She was funny but also well informed, she also had a big heart and didn’t need a eulogy as a form of proof if someone asked for an extension due to a funeral service that day. 
Bucky: What the hell is in my dresser? 
Without knowing the tone or context your heart dropped. You read the text with Bucky’s voice as if he was screaming at you, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. It was in your head, you didn’t know if it was a flirty tone either. 
You: Just my bra, when I stayed over a couple of nights ago I changed into your clothes and just absentmindedly put my bra in your top drawer. I probably was just going through the motions and thought I was at my place. 
Bucky: Can I pick you up from class, when does your lecture end?
Something about him completely disregarding your explanation - lie or not - gave you the worst feeling in the world. Ice poured down your back as you watched your prof make her way back up to the little stage she teaches on, you couldn’t keep the conversation going and just needed to deal with it later. 
You: sure, it ends in an hour. 
Bucky: I’ll be there. 
Part of you didn’t want to leave when your lecture was over, you stayed in the hallway for a moment and thought of every single end of the world situation that could happen in the car. Bucky didn’t seem like a guy who hit women but your anxiety didn’t let you leave out that thought. He also didn’t seem like the guy who’d reveal he’d been dating another girl the entire time but who knows, he could be in a three year long relationship as you stood there. 
With all these terrible situations playing out in your head you decided to face it head on, you’d walk in there and wouldn’t let him talk; just saying your apologies with your eyes closed before he could get a word out. 
You walked down the steps and to the right to find Bucky’s car parked in front, coming up in the blindspot. You took a moment to take a deep breath, opening the door and sitting down as quickly as possible. 
“Do you-”
“Bucky,” you put your hand out but kept your eyes casted down, “I am so unbelievably sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I don’t know if you already have a girlfriend and she found it and it caused a rift in your relationship, or if you like to sleep with other girls and one of them found the bra and got jealous so you lost your credit. I don’t know what made you angry but please, I am so sorry for what I did, I wasn’t thinking and I just put it in there and I-...” you just held your mouth open as you looked at the center console, you had run out of things to say. “Um,” you slowly looked up to see him frozen in shock, mouth still slightly open from when he began to say something, “sorry, you were about to say something?” 
Bucky had to physically rattle his head to get out of the shock he was in, “do you want to get some coffee?” 
Your eyes flicked up and it was your turn to stay frozen, “what?” 
Bucky pulled his brows together, “I was making a joke about the bra thing,” he seemed concerned at your extremely anxious state, “I don’t care what you leave at my place, I really don’t,” normally someone would laugh in awkward situations but Bucky didn’t, it felt like it made everything worse. “Do you want coffee?” 
“What is going on?” you couldn’t believe the situation you had put yourself in, nothing was making sense. 
“Don’t get all mad at me,” now it was time for him to scoff, “you’re the one that thought I was sleeping with multiple women while I’m actively pursuing you, you idiot.” 
“Don’t call me an idiot,” you huffed and faced the front of the car, crossing your arms after putting on your seatbelt. 
Bucky laughed as he reached over and turned your face so you’d look at him, “that’s what you took from that statement?” He giggled, “babe, I just said I was pursuing you, does that just fly over your head?” 
“Wait, what?” you grew more interested, “you want to date me?” 
Bucky nodded, “have I not made it obvious?” You just shrugged and began to feel small, curling yourself further into the seat of his car, “I would like to take you out and I would like to continue to collect little pieces of you at my place while doing the same to yours, does that make sense?” 
“Then what were those condoms for?” 
“The same reason our house keeps tampons in our main bathroom,” Bucky put the car in drive and began working towards to coffee shop, “if you ever need a tampon you go and grab one, if Steve ever needs a condom and he’s out of stock in his room he comes to me,” Bucky looked at you at the stop light. 
“Oh,” was all you could say. 
“But let me get a few things straight,” Bucky placed his hand on your thigh, “I’m not sleeping with other girls, I do not have a secret girlfriend, I am not mad you left your bra in my dresser and I tried to make the text seem flirty, and finally,” he went at the green, “I really like you and I would like you to be my girl whenever we get there.” 
“Okay,” you whispered, “I’d like that too.” 
“Then it’s settled,” it was a short drive to the cafe, “let’s celebrate over coffee, shall we?” 
You looked down at his hand on your thigh, “yeah, we shall.” 
********
Your body felt like it was floating, your legs tingled and it was hard to catch your breath. As you laid on your back with your hands on your bare stomach Bucky worked his way back up from between your legs while leaving kisses on your hip bones as well as your stomach when you lifted your hands. 
“How was that?” Bucky asked breathlessly, licking his lips before kissing you. 
You kept your answer waiting, probably because he knew it already, kissing him slowly as he wanted. He was fully in control right now, setting the pace and tone of this entire afternoon. When he pulled away for a moment you complimented him like always, your hands reached up to his shoulders and tried to push him to lay on his back but he stayed strong. 
“Flip over,” you whispered and ran your hands down his chiseled stomach, working your way up to his shoulders as your fingernails raked up his back. 
“I’m all good,” he shrugged. 
“But you’re painfully hard,” you tried again to get him to move but he just fell beside you on his stomach, not allowing you to touch him where he was in fact, extremely hard. “Come on, you always do this.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled and pulled you down with him. 
“I just want to do something nice for you, you never let me do anything for you or give you any favours,” in your head it seemed like a normal observation, it was true that Bucky didn’t let anyone do anything for him while he actively tried to help everyone in anyway he knew how. 
That seemingly struck a nerve, “alright then,” he sighed and got up from the bed, heading into the bathroom as he left you naked and alone on his bed, the most lonesome feelings in the world. 
“Where are you going?” you sat up, grabbing your shirt from the edge of the bed. 
“Going to go jerk off in the shower,” he said as he closed the door. 
“You can’t be serious,” you quickly stood and made your way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. You opened the door to see him already adjusting the tap before starting the shower. “Bucky, it’s the truth, it’s who you are but it’s the truth and as your girlfriend I want you to feel good, I want to give you pleasure like you do to me.” 
You reached forward and placed your hands on his back, slowly working your way to his shoulders so you could turn him around. There looked like shame had overtaken him as he stood before you, though he was larger in size he shrunk himself down to look small. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, he didn’t know what to say. 
“If I can’t give you head then can I come in the shower and wash your hair?” you didn’t even put on the shirt you grabbed, it was dropped to the floor. “Come on, honey, it’ll feel so good.” 
Bucky only nodded before stepping into the hot shower with you. You made sure he got most of the stream on him, you stayed in front and made sure his hair was soaked before getting any product. You could see his tenseness at first but the moment your hands made contact with his scalp his eyes rolled back, his shoulders relaxed. In that moment it occurred to you that you had actually never seen his relaxed state before. 
“Doesn’t this feel good?” you whispered, making sure you used your nails to really cleanse his scalp. “Doesn’t letting yourself relax and breathe feel so good, Buck?” 
“Yeah,” it came out quiet and broken. 
Your eyes were focused on his hair the entire time, making sure you lathered up and took your time. You needed to savor this moment for both you and Bucky, you wanted him to be relaxed for a s long as possible as well as taking advantage of doing him a favour; never knowing when your next opportunity would come up. 
Gently tapped his forehead, you got him to lean back. The water immediately took off the top layer of suds but you needed to rub out the deeper layers as well. Your fingers scrubbed until the trail of water rolling down his body was pure water and had no shampoo in it. 
“I’m going to- oh, my gosh Bucky,” you reached out and saw his red eyes, “when did you start crying?” 
“I can’t remember,” he whispered and tilted his head down, the water pushed his hair to cover his eyes. 
You pushed his hair back and pulled him out a step further so the water hit his back, your thumbs quickly wiped away a mixture of water and tears off of his face. He couldn’t stop crying as you tried your best to keep his face clear, “honey, what’s wrong?” 
“I-” he choked on his own words, “I’ve never let my guard down this much,” he admitted before breaking off into harder sobs, you swooped in and pulled him tightly against your chest. 
“I know it’s a new feeling,” you whispered, “but I want you to be able to do this all the time, let your guard down around me,” it was a shot in the dark by saying this but you did it anyways, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I’ll never take advantage of your guard down, love.” 
It must have struck something because his knees buckled, his hands gripped tighter as he desperately kept you close to him. You didn’t know if you were making him feel better or worse but the act of letting go was needed for him, you kept holding him until there was nothing left to cry. 
When he pulled away he stayed close, close enough that you kissed him under the gentle rain of the shower and played with his hair at the base of his scalp. His hands stayed on your back and held you close to him, making sure you were always touching him in some way. You tried to get a good read on him but he kept his head low and gently ran his hands up and down your sides, just feeling you. 
“You’re very safe,” you whispered. 
Bucky looked up at you for a moment before keeping his eyes down for a while, his brows pulled together and it seemed like he was trying to say something but didn’t know how. Both of you were open and vulnerable, naked in the hot shower. Tears threatened to spill over at the picture of Bucky crying in front of you. 
“It was my mom,” Bucky whispered, “the one who broke me-”
“You’re not broken,” you quickly corrected, cupping his face and stroking his cheek with your thumb, “don’t say that.” 
Bucky just shrugged, “I’m the oldest, I have four sisters younger than me - all different dads.” Bucky took a deep breath and pulled you closer, “my mom…Winnie was an interesting woman who never wanted to be pregnant but somehow always ended up pregnant anyways, it also didn’t help none of the guys wanted to stick around.” 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him the easy opportunity to hug you if he needed to. Nodding along, you encouraged him to keep going. 
“When my mom realized I could do the dirty work she would take advantage of that. I basically raised my sisters and somehow she managed to worm into my head,” he let out an angry laugh, “she’d say she loved me if I did things for her and I was a bad boy if I couldn’t or wouldn’t help her, she would say I didn’t love her if I didn’t change my sister’s diapers or bathe them while she sat on the couch.” 
“Bucky,” you were the one to instigate the hug, “that’s awful.” 
“And I’m aware of how I act now, all I’ve ever known is helping other people to make sure they love me,” he laughed again, “and it sounds stupid but I can never break out of the cycle, I always think I’m doing a good job or not being overbearing but then I start to second guess myself, you know?” he pulled away and looked at you, you quickly nodded. “I start to think about what people are saying behind my back and so I keep doing what I’m doing to stay on the safe side, I know it’s fucking annoying but I can’t help it.” 
“It’s not annoying, baby” you leaned past him and turned off the water as it grew cold, “and if you’ll let me I can help with that, I don’t want to fix you or change you, I just want you to be comfortable in this relationship and not think I’m secretly mad at you because you didn’t get me a glass of water.” 
Bucky nodded, stepped out of the shower with you and grabbed two towels. The conversation had naturally ended, Bucky didn’t have anything else to say. It was hard not to think he was overthinking again, the idea that you were causing him to stress out stressed you out. You were being truthful when you said you wanted him to be relaxed in this relationship, the last thing you wanted was underlying tension. 
Back in bed Bucky rolled over and cuddled into your breasts, holding you closely as you watched his head rise with your breath. You had no idea if he was asleep or not, you knew he wouldn’t mind either way if you played with his hair. 
“Thank you,” was all he whispered before falling asleep. 
********
You all sat around the couch to watch another big game. Though you had no idea what was going on you were just as into it as Steve. Half time had just started and you all took a collective breath, the two college teams were close. 
“Want another beer?” you asked as you stood up, looking at Bucky who was sitting on the couch. Steve and Nat had already filled up, you wanted another cooler and Bucky was almost done. 
“Yeah,” he quickly downed his final sip of beer before handing the bottle off to you. 
There was this anticipation in the room, you smiled and took the bottle and walked past Steve who was already looking at Bucky. The room seemed still when Bucky didn’t move, just pulling out his phone to look at something while the commercials played. Before making it into the kitchen you looked over your shoulder and saw the back of Bucky’s head, you bit your lip to suppress the smile that was growing. 
The moment you got back and sat next to him Bucky took your hand and pulled it into his lap. He fidgeted with your finger before looking over at you, “how’d I do?” he whispered. 
You laughed and leaned into his side, “how much did that make your cringe?” 
“I was in pain for a moment,” he answered as fast as possible before giggling with you as you clink your glasses together and take a long swing. With a deep breath he looked back at the game and kept your hand in his. Bucky must have not been paying attention but his phone buzzed, illuminating and accidentally showing his lockscreen. 
It changed from the photo of the two of you to a black background with white writing on it: 
Trust me, she’s not mad at you.
********
Thanks for reading, feel free to reblog and tell me what you think!
Taglist: @jackiehollanderr​ @tylard-blog1​ @readingbooksanddrinkingtea-blog​ @linzc-reader​ @hotleaf-juice​ @honeybunchesofbucky​ @seybox​ @yaszx​ @happyt0exist​ @striving4averagegirl​ @searchf0rtheskyline​ @aya-fay​ @wbyss​ @luvrsbian​ @albertdabuttler​
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rafebaby · 4 months
Text
Frat!Rafe has his target locked in and it's shy!reader (pt. 2)
part one / part three
Writer's note: And then here it is: part two. Can you believe it? Obviously it's not the last. I would really like to hear your thoughts and ideas on this. I have some of my own, already typed out a little bit too but still struggling to choose exactly what way I really think works best. Love y'all and thank you for your support xxx rafebaby
After your "moment" with Rafe, you decided to lock yourself in your room all weekend. Hoping it would all pass by as a bad dream. But it didn’t pass by. No matter how hard you wanted to forget about it all, memories of him and you and what happened, repeated itself in your head over and over and over again. You felt ridiculous.
This was Rafe Cameron, for heaven's sake – a guy who had every girl swooning over him. You had nothing against him, but this was literally stupid. It's as if he planted a parasite in your brain, and the parasite is him and now you're kind of doomed to have these feelings that you don't really want yourself having.
So as Monday comes around, you have a hard time convincing yourself to get out of the house to go to the first class of the week. It also happens to be the only day of the week none of your friends are in your class. But Rafe is.
Normally that wouldn’t mean a whole lot to you, but today it has your anxiety peaking. You're afraid to see him, afraid of him seeing you, afraid of embarrassment and probable rumors already being spread around campus. Maybe someone took pictures, maybe they recorded it. Not that you deem yourself so incredibly interesting but stories including campus royalty like Rafe spread like wildfire. Yet missing education for a boy and as a result of a game of ‘spin the bottle’ is something you can not justify to yourself. 
You walk into the lecture hall a few minutes before the start of the class, head facing downwards, avoiding any kind of interaction. You're greeted by the professor who is already setting up her presentation. You look up at her briefly and smile before you turn to the room to find yourself a seat, but are shocked to see Rafe Cameron sitting in the back staring straight at you.
Shit. 
You immediately break eye contact and nervously sit yourself down in the first seat closest to you Front row. With nervous hands, you manage to get your laptop out of your bag and start it up. Automatic pilot takes over and helps you find the document from the previous lecture, but you can hear the beat of your heart in between your ears, knowing he's behind you. 
Maybe you should just apologize to him after class, you think. It was kind of rude to have done what you did, was it not? After all, he never did anything wrong. Only, you have no clue what is going through his head. You've heard about him getting into fights, him dealing, him threatening other people.... But you actually didn't know him at all, so, you know, maybe he would just be happy if you just cleared the air. You're sure he could be nice, you felt it in his touch, in his pace…
Your face flushes red as the memory pops into your head again. Quickly but subtly you take a careful look over your shoulder, wary of Rafe being able to read your mind. As soon as you lay your eyes on him, his head turns into your direction, his eyes following just a bit slower. 
The teacher starts her class. “Welcome class!” You snap your head to her. “Today, we’ll follow up on the chapter we started on last week, chapter 9. We left of at page 67 in the textbook…” She goes on. 
You are definitely not going to talk to him. After class, you are just gonna leave this room as fast as possible. He's too intimidating. Too scary. 
Too handsome.
No, fuck, stop. 
During the rest of the period, you find yourself dipping in and out of attention for the lecture, struggling to take notes as time drags on slowly. 
When the professor finally concludes the lecture and wishes the class a good rest of the week, everyone hastily starts packing their belongings, eager to escape the confinement of the dusty room. Yet, nobody is as eager as you. The people passing by make it difficult to leave your spot. To them you are more or less invisible. Not to Rafe though. He follows your every move as Topper walks beside him, going on and on about the troubles of his latest relationship troubles. It was always the same with him.
“I don’t know what she wants, man. Whatever I do, I always seem to do the wrong thing. One minute we’re being all lovey dovey, the next, she says she needs space.”
Rafe’s completely unbothered. Unlike himself, Topper is a total doormat. The wait-and-see type of guy. Rafe however likes to go after what he wants. And so, without any announcements, he leaves Topper behind, following you at a covert distance. “Hey dude! Where are you going?” Topper tries to catch up with him again, but Rafe strides on. “See you later, Top!” He exclaims unentertained with his head acing his target. You’re too jittery to notice, so busy to get out fast. He can tell, but he won’t have it. This time he won’t let you get away that easily. 
➤ taglist: here
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temiizpalace · 27 days
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Ahhh ok I love your page so far and this is my first time making an ask so I hope it’s ok. I’ve been craving a little drama for a bit and I had this idea a bit ago and I just wanted to share it :)
Cater, Leona, Riddle taking their s/o home for a Holliday/school break. Reader is sweet & respectful but isn’t afraid to put someone in their place, even royalty. A lil bit of fluff at the end would also be nice. You have creative liberty, it’s your story after all :) don’t forget to eat and drink water, and feel free to ignore this if you want <3
☆┆KNOW YOUR PLACE!
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SUMMARY: your partner takes you to his hometown for the break, but you run into someone who thinks they’re a head above the rest..
CHARACTERS: RIDDLE, CATER, LEONA
GENRE: fluff
ROMANTIC
WARNINGS: people are asses
NOTES: i love this idea!! it was a lot of fun to write and i appreciate the request 🫶🫶 hopefully this was up to your standards and you enjoy!
reader is g/n, implied to be yuu
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🌹┆RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
“are you sure you’re okay with this..?”
riddle asks hesitantly, standing by the mirror as he fiddled with his fingers. since you had no place to go to over the break, riddle had invited you to his hometown. granted, he was quite nervous in asking you thanks to the relationship with his mother, but the excitement was immeasurable once you agreed to join him.
“of course i am.” you smile, taking his hand gently. “i understand how difficult it is for you to go back, so i want to be there with you.” riddle blushes at your words of kindness, unused to such affections (especially at NRC). he clears his throat and squeezes your hand. “i-if you insist.. we best be on our way then. mother expects us to be there by 8:30 on the dot.”
riddle leads you into the mirror, holding your hand the whole way through. as you stepped into the queendom of roses, you take in the breathtaking sights of the small village in front of you. “i live close by, have you gotten your gift prepared?” he asks, strolling past the various shops and bakeries.
you pause in your tracks, tensing up at the question. “we needed gifts..?” you ask, feeling part of your soul leave your body. riddle stares at you with a dumbfounded expression, utterly shocked at the fact you had come unprepared. he sighs, taking a deep breath. “thank goodness we’re by the shops. on any other occasion i would have your head..” he mumbles, causing you to awkwardly laugh and walk inside the store.
it was a small store selling small things, like purses. however, it’s not the expensive name brand purses that’d cost both your arms, it was cute and little cozy handmade bags that screamed home just by looking at them. you were in awe at the intricate stitches made onto the bag, not to mention impressed by such a simple design. “do you think your mother would like this?”
riddle turned to look at the bag, examining it thoroughly for any rips, tears, or stains. he smiles softly before nodding, holding it up to get another proper look. “i’m sure she’ll love it..”
as you both walk over to the line, chatting away at what you both were going to do on your visit, you had accidentally bumped into a woman covered in jewelry and what seemed to be designer clothing. you can see where this is going, right?
“ah, im sorry.” you quickly apologize. the woman gasps offendedly, looking over to where you had bumped into her. “excuse me? do you know what you just did? you had just RUINED my new designer jacket.” she exclaims, putting the fur jacket near your face. “do you know how much this had cost me? how do you expect to clean this up?”
riddle’s eyebrow twitched, staring at the supposed mark you had left. there wasn’t even a trace of such thing, she was just lying to make extra cash. “actually, i think you had bumped into them.” he answers, trying to be as calm as he physically can. “i wasn’t talking to you, little girl. buzz off.” she angrily glared at riddle before shifting her attention back to you.
as you glanced back at riddle, you could see him seething with anger. he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, not to mention his face was completely red. “ma’am, i in no way have damaged your jacket. you had bumped into me, and what you had said was uncalled for. please do not talk to us again, we are done here.”
you walk away, squeezing riddle’s hand as a way to calm down, but the woman wouldn’t give up. “how dare you defy me.. you little brats!” she grabbed onto your shoulder, trying to pull you back. instinctively, riddle drew his magic pen, but you signaled him not to use it. you push the woman off your shoulder and look at her with disgust laced in your eyes.
“don’t EVER lay your hands on me like that. do that again and i’ll be more than happy to call the authorities.” you had raised your voice, the entire shop looking at the scene. as the woman looks around, she mumbles something before leaving the store. you sigh, not expecting such ignorance from people so soon. “i’m sorry about that, riddle.”
“no, you didn’t do anything. i could’ve used my unique magic on a civilian if you hadn’t stopped me..” he murmurs the end part, but smiles at you nonetheless. “are you going to be alright?” he asks, caressing your cheek. “yeah, ill be fine. it wasn’t anything serious.” you smile back at him, feeling a ray of sun hit both of your figures in the middle of the shop.
“now cmon, let’s purchase this gift for your mother and get outta here.” you laugh, taking his hand and pulling him toward the register.
“..yeah.”
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🦁┆LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
“why’d you have to tag along..”
leona grumbles, leading you up to his room for your stay. “because i know you’d skip out on the dinner if i didn’t.” you retort, knowing damn well he appreciates your company.
“pssh.. why does that bother ya?” he murmurs as he opens the door for you like a gentlemen, despite his contradicting remarks. “no reason, i just want you to show more respect for your family is all.” you mention, walking into the large room. it was definitely bigger than his dormitory, and arguably larger than all of ramshackle. but it was nice.
“..do what you want. settle in, im takin’ a nap.” leona strides over to his bed, yawning while stretching his arms. you frown at him as he turns his back to you, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. leona lets out a surprised grunt before facing you with a scowl. “what the hell was that for-“ he starts before looking at your piercing gaze.
“you’re getting ready for dinner. now.” you demand, standing your ground. he stares at you, no longer having a snarky comment to each word you say. he clicks his tongue before grabbing a nearby outfit and changing in the bathroom. he gave up easier than expected, but at least that means less work for you. speaking of which, you decide to get ready yourself in preparation for the night.
sitting at the table, tensions were high. you expected it just to be leona’s family, but it appears to be a whole system of royals lined up inside the palace. even leona himself was shocked, but he also wasn’t one to keep up on his family events..
the dining hall was incredibly loud. sounds of laughter, bickering, and natural conversation can be heard from every corner. “told ya you shouldn’t have attended.” leona whispers, causing you to raise a brow. “it’s crowded, but i know you’re just trying to find an excuse to leave.”
he frowns before picking at the lettuce on his plate. “you should eat that.” you comment, seeing as the entire steak was gone but the salad was practically untouched (not including him picking at it). “hm? wanna eat it for me instead?” he smirks, about to push the salad onto your dish.
“no way!” you laugh keeping the plate away from him. the night continues, playful laughter exchanges between you both. suddenly, the banter comes to a stop when leona was bumped on the shoulder, and it wasn’t on accident. a snobby looking royal looks back and gives leona a disgusted look.
“my mistake, kingscholar. I didn’t realize second-sons were invited to such a grand event.” the royal chuckles, expecting a groundbreaking reaction from leona. all leona did was furrow his brow before speaking. “yeah well here i am in all my glory. now put a sock in it and get lost.”
the royal flinches, changing the subject to you. “and who might this be? a partner of yours? i had not realized you had one. i never thought you’d get one with such a nasty scar and attitude..”
leona scowls, clenching his fists before suddenly feeling your hand atop if it. “i believe you should show more manners. he may not be king, but he’s royalty just as you are. if you just came to bother him with disrespectful remarks, then i think it’s best you just leave us alone.” you state, leona’s cheeks turning a slightly darker shade.
“who are you to tell me this? you don’t look like royalty, not to mention you reek of no magic. you too attend night raven college don’t you?” he continues, causing your blood to boil. “were you too rejected from royal sword academy? how saddening it is to see.”
you want to punch him, and want to punch him bad. however, you contained yourself and decided to respond respectfully. “acting so snobbish is much more saddening. if royals like you are ruling kingdoms, then i fear its only a matter of time before it falls thanks to a poor king. how about you get your act together and show respect to your peers.” maybe it was a little less respectful than you thought.
“tch. this is not the last of me, kingscholar.” the royal gives up, walking away from the two of you. you smile, looking back at leona, who was a little flustered as you came to his rescue. “i didnt need you to defend me.” he murmurs before averting his eyes to the side. you open your mouth to speak, but get cut off as he suddenly ruffled your hair. “but you got guts.”
you knew this was his way of saying thank you. you laugh. unsure as to why, but something about his awkward ways with affection were definitely charming. “what’s so funny?” he asks, lifting his hand and raising a brow. “ahh, it’s nothing.”
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♦️┆CATER DIAMOND
“i have so many things for magicam now!”
cater exclaims, laying out his new props and figures onto the table. after he insisted on you joining him to his hometown, cater took you on a date across town so you can see all the wonderful places the Shaftlands has to offer. you smiled as he already began to take pictures, not hesitating to join in. “they’re adorable, cater! i really like this figure right here.”
you picked up said figure and smiled admiringly at it. cater took in your expression, feeling entranced before snapping out of it. “welll, if you like it so much you can have it!” he exclaims, causing you to shake your head. “no, no! you bought it, it’s yours. i just thought it was nice is all.” you protested, but he wasn’t going down easily.
“well i’d do anything to make my partner happy, so if you like it, it’s yours. no take backs ☆!” he giggles, causing you to pause. “..thank you, cater.” you flash him a smile before watching him take out his phone for a quick photo. with little to no time to react, he had already snapped a photo of you with a huge grin on your face. “hm.. you’re so photogenic, yknow?”
you feel your cheeks get warm at his words, but you came to your senses once you realized you both were in public. “we should pack up the things and get ready to go.” you suggest, cater already being a step ahead of you by packing everything back into its packaging and bag.
a man walks oddly close to the table, but you had decided not to question it. suddenly, in a swift movement one of the expensive props were gone, the man dashing away. “HEY!” you shout, cater looking at you with a look of confusion. “[MC]? is someth— WOAH!” before he could finish, you sprinted towards the thief. the culprit looks back, seeing your angry and annoyed face before turning forward.
“shit..” he mutters trying to pick up the pace. cater follows behind you, feeling tired from running and carrying the bags. “S-SLOW DOWN!” he shouts, but you had one goal in mind. you charged at the mystery thief, a yelp escaping him as he hit the concrete floor. “Give it back.” you stated sternly, pinning his hands behind his back and keeping him in place.
cater catches up, running out of breath as he walked towards you. “hey, what was that about— WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” the culprit struggles, trying to get up off the ground. “LET GO OF ME, FREAK! I DIDN’T DO NOTHING!” you furrowed a brow at him before grabbing the loose stolen item off the ground. “don’t lie. you tried stealing from us. i’m reporting you to police so no poor soul has to deal with you.”
cater looks at you with a puzzled expression before realizing one of his props WERE missing. “i guess i’ll call police then..?” cater awkwardly adds, pulling out his phone to dial the number.
the police eventually show up, taking in the culprit to discover this has happened more than once. he sells these stolen goods for drugs. cater looks at you, a hint of admiration and a little fear could be seen in the glint of his eyes. “hm?” you hum, noticing his staring.
“remind me not to ever steal from you.” he states, replaying the scene back in his head. “you didn’t need to tackle him, it was just one figure!” you shrug before taking his hand in yours gently. “i guess i didn’t want him stealing from you. especially since it was one of the more expensive props.”
“..you’re such an angel.” he states with a look of awe, causing you to laugh. “definitely not, but thank you.” suddenly, an arm pulls you in. your arm comes into contact with caters as he leans in and snaps a quick selfie of you two. he adds the caption before hearing your phone get a notification.
it reads: “my heroic partner ❤️❤️❤️”
you feel your heart beginning to beat faster and your stomach starting to do backflips. just cater doing the bare minimum was enough for you to feel this way. “isn’t it perfect?” he asks, chuckling as you get pulled out of the trance. “..yeah.”
“i like you being my hero.” he smiles, planting a quick kiss on your cheek before tugging your hand. “now cmon, i know this totally adorbs café on the next block and i’ve been dying to take you!”
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A/N: WRITERS BLOCK ABSOLUTELY KILLED ME WITH THIS ONE, NOT TO MENTION THE EXAMS UGGGGHHHH
date published: 5/12/24
© temiizpalace — don’t steal or copy my work!
440 notes · View notes
zwhoreo · 10 months
Note
hello! It was just recently when I found your page and Immediately loved how you write Luffy!
I wanted to know if you could write a short fic about jealous! Luffy, maybe the crew land on a island, they went to a bar and reader started get hit on by another dude, I wonder if luffy would be overprotective or wouldn’t care that much.
tysm for the support! I’m so happy you like my writing, that means a lot!! :’) I’ve had some ideas for this concept and I love how this turned out, so thanks sm for the request <3
jealous luffy - luffy x gn!reader
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fluff
summary in request, luffy’s progression from uneasy cluelessness into overprotective rage
words: 1k
________________________
Luffy’s been holding your hand all day, like he always does. And he’s been roughly dragging you around across the island because he’s excited to be in a new town and make friends and find adventures. Evening comes and your hand is sweaty, you love Luffy but you want a little break, so you tell him that, as gently as you can, when you follow some of the crew into a tavern in the town square.
It’s loud and warm and Luffy wanders off to see if they have food here, so you’re left alone to sit in one of the bar stools and wait to catch the bartender’s attention so you can get a drink. Your excitement doesn’t overflow like Luffy’s does but it’s been a long, boring voyage over this particular sea and the stable ground, the unfamiliar faces, the world outside of a wooden box are so welcome, and so you’re in a particularly good mood, more outgoing than you would normally be.
So when a man comes to you, and sits by you, and begins to ask you who you are and compliment your clothes you let him, you talk back happily. Because you’ve been talking to just the same nine people for far too long. When he offers to buy you a drink you think why not? and agree with a dismissive laugh.
Luffy is bored and notices you talking to a man he’s never seen before. He isn’t jealous, not yet. He doesn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary, he doesn’t see a problem with his hand being close to yours, or the drink he offers you. In fact, Luffy’s jealous of you, because you’re getting something for free and he isn’t. He gets antsy and wants to hold your hand again, now that he’s in a bad mood. So he comes and sits cross legged on the floor, leaning against your stool, not saying anything.
You smile at him and return to your conversation. You’re aware, only vaguely, of how the man is leaning in closer towards you, how his gestures brush your arm. Luffy isn’t. But Luffy still feels agitated, like something’s not right, though he can’t place it. He plays with the cuff of your pants, staring straight ahead, brows furrowed.
You lean away as the man gets closer. You don’t feel in danger, you’re slightly amused at this man’s clear attempts to hit on you, you continue to laugh it off because Luffy’s there and you feel safe. You bring your hand up to rest your head on, to get it away from his creeping fingers, your body language is subtle but Luffy is starting to feel like something isn’t right. Something feels off in his heart, his stomach.
He’s watching the man now, from the floor beneath you, glaring as the man glances down icily at him. Luffy is stressed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The man doesn’t feel threatened, he’s too confident, emboldened and cocky he rubs it in by leaning closer and complimenting you more. He wants to make Luffy jealous.
Luffy is angry. His face is heating up. Who does this man think he is? And as Luffy gets angry you’re feeling off too, like the man is getting too close, fingers reach out and brush your hair.
“Hey,” you try to dodge, not having any fun anymore. You want out, you’re racing to think up an excuse, or try to get Luffy to do something, but you’re scared. The man is tall and strong, probably a pirate himself, you don’t know what he might do in the face of denial. You feel awful for your kindness and excitement just minutes ago, you feel a little sick. The man tries to hold your hand and you jerk away, no subtlety anymore.
And that’s when Luffy breaks. The rage inside him suddenly explodes because he may not know what it means to come onto someone, but he knows you, he knows when you’re upset. And his overprotective side takes over and he decides that this man is going to be the one to pay.
Luffy shoots up from the floor and punches the man in the face with all the force he can, yelling at him to get away from you. You gasp and scurry off the stool, trying to grab Luffy’s shoulders, but he lunges at the man again with a sharp uppercut. The man reaches for the cutlass on his belt, blood dripping from his mouth, but Luffy sees red and hits and hits.
The tavern has turned to the three of you in shock, but cheers erupt from the alcohol ridden crowd as an animalistic fight breaks the bar in half. And there’s a clear winner.
Luffy stands, soon, in a rage-filled daze, fists clenched as he looks down at the unconscious man beneath him. And in an instant you’re crushed into strong, flexed arms, lifted from the ground, hands gripping your skin as Luffy holds you tightly in a silent need to keep you for himself. Kisses pepper your face and he rubs your hands and wrists and shoulders where you had been touched before by the man Luffy can’t stand to look at again.
“He can’t have you,” Luffy says unhappily, face buried in your neck, pouting like a child.
“Luffy…” You wrap your arms around him and try to steady your breathing, soaking in his familiar smell and warmth. “I’m ok… it’s alright-”
Your lips are met with a forceful kiss before you finish speaking. “Mmm!” Luffy grumbles into your mouth, still mad, a newfound clinginess developing in his heart as he grips you protectively.
You’re so aware of all the eyes on you, but all that you need right now is the overpowering presence of Luffy all around you. You’re safe. It’s over now. You close your eyes, Luffy’s mouth still attached to yours, as Nami rushes over to drag both of you out of the tavern.
2K notes · View notes
canthelpit0 · 2 months
Text
Come through
Pairing: Cocky!Player!Chris x Reader
Word count: 4.5k+
Summary: chris hand always been a player. Would that change once he becomes famous? -no.
Warnings: smut, player!Chris, influencer!Reader, party, mentions of drinking/tobacco/weed, pet names (ma, pretty boy, pretty lady, sweetheart, etc.), bathroom sex, semi public, oral m!receiving, fingering, p in v (protected), praise kink, swearing, no use of y/n, no oc, written in 2nd pov
(A/N: English is not my first language, and I always appreciate feedback enjoy! love y'all. this is heavily inspired by come through, the song.)
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Chris had always been sort of a fuckboy.
And with his growing fame it wasn’t getting any better.
Chris has a huge ego. Sure people would always say him and his brothers are nice and humble, but that doesn’t mean Chris can’t be cocky at times.
He didn’t drink. He was underage, though in LA nobody really cared about that anyway. He just didn’t like drinking.
Chris and his brothers would always be invited to some random LA parties.
At first Chris never wanted to go. He didn’t like partying. He didn’t like the smell of alcohol, tobacco and weed.
However he soon came to realize that his looks and fame would get girls swooning over him.
He was being a player and he knew it. However none of the girls he’s ever been with complained.
He made sure they know that it would be a one night stand, and that he doesn’t date. And it worked for him.
★ ★ ★
You were an upcoming YouTuber and influencer. You were starting to gain more and more followers. People were starting to notice you more
You were known for your humor and your witty comebacks.
And as much as you would like to deny it, People didn’t just loved you for your personality, but they also loved your body.
You were gorgeous, To put it lightly.
So obviously when Chris saw you on his for you page a week ago, picking out an outfit to put on for some place you were going to that day, he thought you were hot.
Not that he’d do anything about it.
He wasn’t the type of guy to slide into someone’s dm’s. Because quite frankly he didn’t care that much.
★ ★ ★
But when he saw you at the party he was attending tho…
You’d been carelessly dancing. You weren’t drinking, even tho you were 21. You didn’t want to drink today. You wanted to have sober fun and hang out with your friends.
Your friends always did and said the craziest things when drunk. And watching it as the sober designated driver was hilarious.
You feel big hands being placed on your waist delicately.
You turn around to see who it was and to your surprise it was one of the sturniolo triplets.
Chris.
He’s bold for just touching you like that. But for some reason it was hot. Maybe it was just the air laced in weed that was getting to you, but you were enjoying this.
So you simply dance with him.
After a while you both leave the middle of the crowd going to the kitchen to talk. The kitchen being way less crowded than the living room of this house party.
“You’re bold.” You chuckle pointing out watching as his expression morphed into one of amusement and lust as he checks you out.
“Couldn’t help myself ma”
“Sure you couldn’t, pretty boy” you chuckle rolling your eyes at the statement.
Chris, to the public was known to be a sweetheart. But in LA, around other influencers he was known to have quite frequent hook ups. And he was known to never leave any of the girls not satisfied.
You, having moved to LA recently for your career, have heard all about it. People were ‘warning’ you, but no one was outright telling you it was a stupid idea. Because was it tho?
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here anyway?” His goofy grin is wide as he stares back into your eyes.
His eyes are a light shade of blue, but in the lights of the party and his blown out pupils they look dark. His brown hair long, and a mess.
After people had told you about him and his brothers (And particularly Chris’ reputation), you had searched them up and watched a few of their videos. They were quite funny.
And Chris in particular seemed to not be able to take anything seriously.
“Nothing, just having fun.”
You shrug taking a sip from your red solo cup. It was filled with plain water. Chris raised an eyebrow at that.
“You’re not drinking?” He can’t help the small laugh he lets out at that. Tho he is secretly glad you’re not. This was his chance to get you in bed, but he wasn’t going to do anything with a drunk girl.
“No,” you chuckle back. “Designated driver” you raise your free hand in surrender as if it was a crime.
He chuckles at your antics his eyes trailing over your face over to your body once more.
“Eyes up here sweetheart.”
His eyes snap back to yours his goofy grin staying right where it was.
“Sorry ma, you’re just really distracting.” He smiles looking down at you.
You weren’t that much shorter than him. But granted you were wearing high heels. He wasn’t even that tall himself though.
You were wearing a tiny mini dress. One that ends right below your ass. Your cleavage being low giving him a great view of your boobs.
“Oh, I’m distracting?”
You tease. You take a step closer to him, stepping into his personal space as you tilt your head up to look at him better.
His hand goes to the side of your jaw rubbing his thumb over your cheek gently as if asking for consent. You wrap your arm Around his neck pulling him down connecting your lips.
The sweet kiss turns more heated when his hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck. His other hand holding you by the small of your back keeping your body flush against himself.
His tongue graces your lips asking for entrance with you eagerly give, parting your mouth slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.
You make out, your tongues tangling in each other as you simply kiss for a moment.
His tongue hungrily exploring your mouth. He leans into you more tilting your head back more, kissing you with all the lust in his body. Kissing you Like he wants to devour you.
You eventually pull apart to breath. His lips immediately meeting your jawline. He kisses down your jawline moving down to your neck to your collarbone.
“Damn you smell amazing.” He breaths out. His voice strained from the previous kiss.
“Thank you” you chuckle your hand finding its way into his messy waves. You scratch his scalp with your freshly manicured nails causing him to let out a low groan.
He pulls back slightly. He leaves a quick peck on your lips before looking at you again.
“How about we go somewhere.” His voice low and raspy. Laced with the attraction and lust he feels for you.
You just hum. He starts to drag you back through the living room, through the crowd of people. Getting to some random bathroom. He opens the door and lets you walk in first.
You immediately stand in front of the mirror, leaning over slightly to fix your hair.
He closes and locks the door behind himself. He stands behind you watching you through the mirror. You make eye contact. In this new lighting his eyes seem clearer.
He stares into your soul as you push back from the sink.
You swiftly turn around and sink to your knees in front of him.
Chris would’ve never asked. But wich guy doesn’t like head.
“So eager” he chuckles. His hand goes to the top of your head petting it gently. Before he picks up your chin, making you look up at him again.
Your head is tilted back as you look up at him through your lashes. you know he’s probably had countless woman in this same position. But it never got old for him.
And he liked seeing you like the is anyway
“You look so pretty like this you know.” He mumbles before leaning down and leaving a heated kiss on your lips.
He stands back up straight, and you can’t help the way your eyes trail to his crotch. It was right in front of your face and you were getting impatient.
Before you know it your hands go to the top of his jeans, tugging on them gently. You were asking for permission without asking.
He chuckles at your eagerness, undoing his belt, then unbuttoning the jeans and letting you slide them down.
You can already see his huge erection through his boxers. Your mouth was already watering at the sight.
You pull down his boxers fast. His length springing free, hitting his abdomen.
You flinch back slightly. You look at his length with an eyebrow raised not doing anything for a moment just admiring.
You’ve never seen a dick be this pretty. It had a thick vain running up the side. It was long, at least a good 8 inches. It was thick, not too thick, but enough that you knew the stretch would burn.
“You good?” He asks. He was clearly holding in a laugh. His hand goes to your hair, still just patting the top of your head.
“You’re sure you’re white?” You tease one hand cupping his member as you start to gently and slowly jerk him off.
“Definitely, sweetheart” he chuckles rolling his eyes at the comment. People always asked about it. Wich is fine since most people weren’t used to his size. the constant questioning was so annoying sometimes.
But the way you teased him with that sentence was just too good.
His red tip is already leaking pre cum. He eagerly waits for you to start. You press a small peck on it, while looking up at him your eyes staying locked on his.
You start to kitten lick the tip. You watch as he lets out a slightly shaky sigh at the contact.
“C’mon ma, don’t tease.”
You pull away slightly chuckling at the statement. You teasingly blow air on it, watching as he shivers. But before he can start complaining about your teasing you take his entire tip in your mouth swirling your tongue around it.
“Yeah, like that.” He sighs softly. He rubs your cheek with the back of his hand as you hollow out your cheeks to give him more pleasure.
His hand moves to my hair taking it and putting it in a makeshift ponytail. You start to take him as deep as you could, starting to slowly bob your head. Sucking and swirling your tongue. You take him as deep as you can jerking off what you can’t fit with your manicured hand.
The sounded coming from it are sinful, and so are his low moans and grunts.
When you hear his soft grunts turn into moans you can tell he’s getting close. You pull off with a pop. You stroke him gently, and then teasingly lick a stripe up his shaft.
“You like that?” You tease licking at it. He groans in annoyance. He thrusts his hips back to get more friction from your hand.
“Please keep going.”
You lick your lips briefly watching him. His eyes meet yours. You chuckle starting to suck him off again. This time you do it more vigorously and faster than before. His dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as you slightly gag around it.
Chris’ grip in your hair tightens as he starts to tug in it. He holds you in place stopping your movements as he starts to harshly thrust in and out of your mouth.
The sounds of your moans send sensations of pleasure through him. Every sinful sound echos through the small bathroom, making the music outside sound non existent to you two.
His cock is repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the harsh feeling. You try to gag as little as possible.
“Fucking- swallow ‘aight” he breaths out harshly. You hum as best as you could. The sensation tingles through his spine. And with a last thrust you feel his cum pore down your throat. You try your best to swallow as much as you could.
He gently pulls out. His thumb rubbing the corner of your lips where some of it had leaked.
He puts his thumb on your plump and swollen lips. And without a secound thought you suck on his thumb. You blink away the tears that’d been forming.
The sight is enough to have him going all over again.
His grip on your hair had loosened, but he still pulls you up by it gently.
He turns you around, so that you’re facing the mirror your hands on the sink. Your ass presented to him.
His eyes meet yours through the mirror once more. Seemingly asking for consent, to wich you nod.
His hand starts to trail over the side of your thigh slightly under your short dress.
“Words baby”
“Yes Chris- please” you waste no time asking him. You want him to touch you where you crave him the most.
“Gonna be a good little slut now?” He teases. His eyes stay locked on yours through the mirror.
“Mhm” you mumble watching him. You feel him start to pull up your dress. He bunches it up right over your ass.
His fingers go to trail over your slick wet folds. Chris pushes the lacy thong to the side. He rubs his fingers briefly over your clit, before going to tease your cunt.
“Words, sweetheart.” He repeats, his eyes staying locked on yours. He had no problem teasing you until you comply.
“Yes-“ you get cut off by a Moan. When he slams two of his long fingers into you.
Your body jolts forward, your thighs hitting the cold sink. You grimace at the feeling.
“Wow, so sensitive?” He teases leaning over again to leave a quick peck behind your ear.
He starts to plunge his fingers in and out of your cunt. He roughly fingers you, his long fingers curl just right to hit your sweet spot.
You let out a breathless moan letting your head fall forward. You were leaning on your arms for support.
You feel his big hand wrap around your throat as he pulls you back up. “Now, now, baby watch yourself.” He teases.
“Keep those pretty eyes on me” he taunts. You flutter your eyes open. You feel his fingering get rougher as you can feel your climax rapidly approaching. You’re tempted to close your eyes again, but you’re sure Chris would edge you or something.
So you try your best to keep them open and staring at his face.
“Good girl. Yeah. Just like that.” He praises. His low words sending tingles to your core. You can practically feel yourself get wetter at how words and the sound of his voice alone.
Your wetness is loud. The lewd sounds bounce off of the bathroom walls. That along with your sweet low moans, while you try to keep yourself together.
“You like my praise honey?” He asks in a sweet tone. His words sound so innocent. Unlike the very things he’s doing to you right now.
“Yes- god” you whine, this time not hesitating to answer.
He chuckles at your eagerness speeding up his pace to give you your release. His fingers curl at just the right spots, reaching places you couldn’t reach by yourself.
“I’m close-“
“I know.” Chris grins keeping his eyes on yours through the mirror. His hand moves higher from your neck to your jaw, cupping your face roughly.
He turns your head to face him. He roughly crashes his lips onto yours. You try hard to focus on the kiss, but the way he finger fucks you has you weak in the knees. The kiss is sloppy and messy. His tongue explores your mouth as you try hard to focus.
You whine loudly. His lips catching the moan as he only picks up pace even more. He gets the hint that you’re close. And before you know it, you’re coming around his fingers.
He lets go of your face. You lean further on your arms. Your Hands harshly gripping onto the sink. You let your head fall forward as you pant harshly.
He gently pulls out his fingers. His eyes focused on the way you’re throbbing around nothing.
He sucks his fingers clean humming at the taste of your cunt on them. “Did so well for me ma” he hums reassuringly, pressing a sweet kiss on your neck.
“You think you can take another, sweet girl?” He says softly.
“Please.” Your breath out your voice shaky. You pick up your head looking at him through the mirror again.
He leans down briefly to his jeans that were still pooling down at his feet.
Chris puts his hand on your hip His eyes locking with yours through the mirror. He holds out a condom with one hand. He leans over you to leave a quick peck on your shoulder.
“I’m clean” you raise an eyebrow at him through the mirror. He doesn’t respond. “And I’m on birth control..” you trail off watching him.
He grins letting out a low laugh that seems to vibrate through his entire chest.
He presses his chest up against your back as his arm wraps around your torso. He leaves another kiss on your shoulder, trailing it up to your neck and right under your ear.
“I’m not taking any chances ma”
His voice is low and seductive. The tone sending vibrations right to your core.
“Fine for me” you shrug as you watch him lean back. His eyes lock on your ass. He licks his lips.
Chris roughly rips open the condom package with his teeth. Rolling the condom over himself fast. He was eager to get into you as fast as possible.
He hums in response, caressing your ass gently, his other hand guiding his dick through your soaked folds.
He gently starts to push into you. Letting you take the tip first. Once he feels you relax he rams in the rest of his cock.
You let out another breathless moan at the impact. Chris doesn’t move right away tho, he wants to make it last as long as possible.
“Good” he praises lowly rubbing your hips soothingly. Your body was tense, and he was waiting for you to adjust just a little bit.
You let out a shaky sigh pushing yourself back on him. He takes the hint that he can move now.
So before you realize it, he’s relentlessly pounding into you. You let out a squealed moan at the sudden intense feeling of his movements.
“Oh- fuck-“
He chuckles, and suddenly you feel a harsh slap on your butt. You wince at the harshness. Chris’ hand goes to knead your ass, easing out the pain.
His other hand trails from your waist to the small of your back to arch it more, consequently pushing you closer to the sink.
You lean over the sink. You try hard to keep your head up and look at him. But with the way he is hitting every spot inside of you, it’s hard for you to focus right now.
Chris notices the struggle. One of his hands trail from your hip, up your back teasingly. Before he grabs your hair roughly, putting it in a makeshift ponytail.
“Does the pretty girl like getting her hair pulled like a slut?”
The way he tugs on your hair, the way his sharp eyes trail over your body , and then lock on your eyes through the mirror. It’s all so hot to you.
You let out a shaky breath between Moans. “Yes-“ before you can say anything more you feel him tug harder on your hair And his thrusts becoming harsher.
His eyes train back onto your ass And the way it looks when he thrusts into you. The way his cock disappears in your wet cunt. It’s so captivating to watch for him. He could stare at that sight for hours.
“Gorgeous girl wants to get fucked like this?” He questions teasingly. Another harsh slap echos through the bathroom, But it feels so euphoric.
Your eyes close momentarily at the feeling. Before you feel him rub your ass again. Chris tugs on your hair again, to wich you open your eyes.
“Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you”
Chris’ words are harsh. He is being dead serious. His breaths sharp and his tone laced with lust.
You only let out a mumble to wich he pulls on your hair harsher. And another smack echos through the room. You jolt forward again at the sudden impact, but this time he doesn’t ease the pain away. Instead his pace gets even rougher.
The sound of skin clapping, and the lewd sounds of your soaked cunt are loud, Creating a sinful melody.
“Touch yourself ma.” He huffs out harshly keeping up the pace. Chris keeps his fingers tangled in your hair pulling on it. While his other hand stays firmly on your hip. The harshness at wich he is holding onto you would be enough to leave bruises.
Without thinking you reach one hand down starting to rub your clit furiously, chasing your own high.
“Close” you moan as you keep repeatedly rubbing your clit. And the way Chris’ cock is hitting your cervix only intensifies the feeling.
“Come around me baby” you’ve been pulsing around him all this time. You were already squeezing him so tight. What he wouldn’t give right now to just feel your cunt squeeze him while you come.
So he keeps going. Until you let out a loud whine. You close your legs as best as you could and You clench around Chris harshly.
Chris keeps up pace. His eyes locking to your ass. Watching the way his cock disappears into you over and over. Watching the way the condom he’s wearing is covered in your slik wetness.
What he wouldn’t give to just raw dog it and feel your cum on his bare dick right now. He was tempted to actually just take off the condom to see and feel this without one.
Chris’ thrusts become more messy. But his pace doesn’t let up. Until his hips stutter and he lets out a breathless moan burying himself into you one last time.
His jaw is dropped. He moves his hand from your hip, instead wrapping that arm around your waist, holding you close. He leans over your back keeping himself inside for a moment. Chris burries his face in the crook of your neck. You both breathe heavily at your previous orgasms.
His hand in your hairs loosens. Until he fully lets go. His hand rubbing your scalp since he’d been pulling on it relentlessly.
“Did so good for me ma” he mumbles. His face stays buried in your neck for a moment.
You place your hand back on the sink again, trying to catch your breath and steady yourself.
You’d just fucked a random influencer. Some random player. But, god, was that worth it. No wonder none of his one night stands ever complained. That was fucking amazing.
You just mumble out a quick agreement.
He stands up straight. Gently pulling out as to not hurt you or anything. He takes off the condom.
But while he gets rid of it you don’t even pay attention to him. You look at yourself in the mirror. As much as you want to regret it, you can’t.
You pull your thong back into place and pull your mini dress back down.
You examine your face. Your hair was messy from the pulling, and your make up was only slightly smudged. You’d almost cried while deepthroating him, but you luckily hadn’t. Tho your mascara was still slightly smudged.
You could feel your cunt still ache.
You can see Chris pull up his pants from the corner of the mirror. And then fasten his belt back.
“You okay?” Chris asks his arms wrapping a round you. He looks at you through the mirror . His expression is soft and more caring than you’d expect. Most guys would’ve left by now.
“Mhm.” You mumble watching his expression through the mirror. He narrows his eyes at you.
“Do you regret it?” He asks softly. His tone sweet, like he is talking about something normal.
You purse your lips trying to hold back a smile. The fact that he cared to ask if you regret it or not. Everyone told you he’s a fuck boy, and that is motto is literally ‘hit and quit’. But why was he being nice then?
“No” you speak. And you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your lips.
He turns you around so you face him. He presses a quick peck on your lips. Before he leans over and grabs a random towel off a rack. He wets it slightly in the sink behind you.
And then he sinks onto his knees in front of you. He looks up at you pulling up your dress again slightly.
“What’re you doing?” You question. a chuckle leaves your lips at the sight of Chris on his knees in front of you.
He leans in leaving a soft kiss on your thigh.
“I’m not letting you walk out with your cum running down your thighs ma.” Chris laughs, he then runs the damp towel over your inner thighs.
He cleans you up enough for you to not feel so sticky anymore. He places your panties back. Then he gets up again. Chris pulls down your dress for you before placing another kiss on your lips.
He throws the towel into some laundry bag carelessly. At your curious gaze he explains. “A friend of mine is throwing this party.” He shrugs.
There is a silence for a second where you two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. Until you speak up again.
“Do you always wear condoms when you hook up with girls?”
You ask before the words even register in your mind. And once they do a blush creeps over your cheeks.
“Yeah. I won’t wear one next time if you don’t want me too.” He chuckles. “There will be a next time?” You question.
Chris was the type to only hook up with a girl once. He probably didn’t even remember half of their names.
Instead of answering though, he leans in and kisses you. The kiss is slower, not heated like the previous one shad been.
One of your hands moves from his neck to grab his phone out of his back pocket.
You Lean back slightly. You type your number into his phone. Then you hand it back to him.
He grins at the new contact on his screen.
“I’ll see you around pretty boy.”
You smile giving him another kiss on the lips. And this one lingers. You slide out of his grasp opening the bathroom door. he watches with a goofy grin, as you leave.
You leave going straight back into the crowd of drunk influencers. Trying to search for your drunk friends that would be around here somewhere.
You know he’s a player. So you don’t know if he’ll call you. You don’t know if you’re special, and if he treated you different than others. But if it came down to it you’d at least tried.
But,
He’s not into dating.
Materlist
(A/N: I literally wrote this within the span of one day. I feel like this is probably the best thing I've written so far. Hope you enjoyed <33)
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @ecliphttlunar
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little-diable · 4 months
Text
Following Rules - Spencer Reid (smut)
I don't know where this idea came from, but boy do I love this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: What if JJ had an older daughter? What if Spencer had known said daughter ever since she had been a teenager? What if Spencer no longer remembers the rules he was supposed to follow when (y/n) finally gives in and pulls Spencer close?
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f and m), age gap, mom's best friend situation, teasing
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (3k words)
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If there was one thing Spencer had learned from an early age, it was following rules. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about the rules themselves, about the sometimes random-seeming words that somehow managed to transmit a message burned into his mind from the second the rules were spoken to him, no matter the age. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about how the people teaching him these rules tried to pronounce the important words, underlining the importance of the rules he was supposed to follow. No, it wasn’t about these things, but it was all about Spencer desperately trying to fit in, hoping to blend in with those around him as he remembered sentences that had no real meaning to him.
If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was remembering everything, from single words, long conversations or the plots of books that had more pages than even some other so-called geniuses could count. He could remember every rule that had been forced into his mind, no matter his age, but fuck, those rules were really testing him whenever he was around her. The girl who was just above twenty-one, the girl he had known since she was a teenager, the girl who called his best friend “Mom”. 
“C’mon, (y/n), please. It’s just one night.” JJ’s sigh echoed through the living room, hands placed on her waist, eyes staring her daughter down. (Y/n) was sitting next to Spencer, eyes flickering up from the book she was reading, barely listening to the words her mother had spoken.
“I have a test next week, I need to concentrate and not babysit Henry. Why don’t you ask Penelope?” Before JJ could reply, eyes momentarily fluttering close to give in to the inner battle she was fighting – torn between being proud of her daughter for her academic success and the annoyance (y/n)’s determination pushed through her – Spencer spoke up, forcing all eyes towards him. 
“I am free, I can totally look after Henry while (y/n) studies for her test.” The softness of Spencer’s voice momentarily distracted (y/n) from the way her heart began to speed up whenever he was close to her, wearing that smile that could melt her from the inside out, paired with the glistening pupils she saw whenever her eyes fluttered close.
(Y/n) was anything but proud to admit the way she had been crushing on Spencer for the past years. Once a harmless crush she had tried to accept when she was a teenager, it had escalated into something deeper, something more sincere the older she got. Deep down she tried to accept that this wouldn’t ever be more than a crush, a one-sided one that is, and yet she wasn’t ready to shake those feelings just yet, clinging to the thin thread as if it was her lifeline, saving her from drowning. 
“You don’t have to, Spence. I know how much you enjoy your Saturday evenings.” (Y/n) tried to stop her eyes from rolling, not wanting to give her emotions too much room as she was surrounded by two profilers, but the small bits of annoyance filling her whenever her mother looked at Spencer with those big eyes of hers were hard to shake. She wouldn't be surprised if her mother had some feelings for Spencer, leaving (y/n) with a bitter taste on her tongue.
“Oh, no, I’d love to do it. And I can even help (y/n) with studying.” Their eyes met for a few seconds, seconds that felt like hours, forcing heat to rise in her system. “Not like she needs any of my help, but who knows, maybe I’ll get the chance to learn something new from her. So it’s a win-win situation for us all, I’d say?”
……
Music rang in her ears, eyes focused on her notes, trying not to give in to the distraction silently calling for her, luring her eyes towards Spencer’s frame. A sigh wanted to leave (y/n), cursing herself for giving in all too easily, not used to being around Spencer without her mother or any other member of the BAU around. Fuck, she’d need to get a grip before one of them could see through her lies, all too aware of her crush on Spencer. 
“I think it’s almost dinner time. Do you want to eat with Henry and me?” Spencer’s soft voice drew a smile onto (y/n)’s lips, clearing her throat as she tried to shake her sinful thoughts. 
“Uhm, sure. I think Mom prepared something for us.” She felt his eyes on her frame, watching (y/n) make her way towards the fridge, reaching for the containers filled with food. The sound of his Converse meeting the ground filled the momentary silence, coming to a halt next to (y/n) to help her fill their plates, standing way too close. 
“How’s studying going? Do you need any help?” Heat rose to her face, eyes forced to concentrate on the food rather than the unmistakable grin tugging on Spencer’s lips. For a moment (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of the buzzing atmosphere, of the way he made her feel something she had only read about in books so far. 
“It’s going okay. Maybe you can quiz me later, once Henry’s in bed?” God, she was digging her own grave, a grave so deep she’d never be able to escape. Just the mere thought of spending any more time with Spencer, without her little brother near, left her shuddering in excitement. 
“Absolutely, whatever you need, (y/n), I’m here for you.” 
Fuck, if it was only that simple.
……
“I knew you wouldn’t need any of my help, you’re acing it!” A proud grin tugged on her lips as she sunk further into the couch, feet finding Spencer's lap before she could even think about what she was doing. But while (y/n) was panicking inside, debating pulling her feet back, Spencer didn’t seem to mind the contact, hand finding her right foot without taking his eyes off the sheet he was using to quiz her.
“Alright, two more. Name me some sources for Shakespeare's Macbeth.” With a hum leaving (y/n), she tried to focus on the question, yet barely able to do so as Spencer’s hand began to move up from her foot to her shin, absentmindedly stroking her skin. Goosebumps covered her body, growing more and more with every passing second. 
“Uhm,” her eyes fluttered close, hoping to collect herself. “Bits from the Daemonologie of King James, several tales in Holinshed's Chronicles, and parts of Hector Boece’s book Historia Gentis Scotorum.”
“Good girl.” The praise was spoken all too softy, yet loud enough to force her eyes open, finding his darkening ones within seconds. Spencer was looking at her with something unreadable swimming in his pupils, something that seemed to call her name, begging (y/n) to move closer, to find her way to him with her gaze set on his lips. But she didn’t try to move, not daring to give in first. “Last question, finish the following quote: Was the hope drunk-”
“Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since? And wakes it now to look so green and pale, at what it did so freely?” Spencer hummed as (y/n) finished the first parts from Lady Macbeth’s monologue, unable to meet his eyes. She felt him shift, watched him place the sheet down before he turned back towards her. 
“From this time such I account thy love. Art thou afeared to be the same in thine own act and valour, as thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that which thou esteem’st the ornament of life, and live a coward in thine own esteem, letting ‘I dare not’, wait upon ‘I would’, like the poor cat i’th’ adage?” Spencer’s words rang in (y/n)’s ears, eyes focused on his wandering hand, moving up her leg till it found her trembling fingers. Their eyes met, wordlessly communicating, forcing her to shift her weight, slowly sitting up.
“You know, if there’s one thing my time at the BAU has taught me, it’s seizing every chance, even if you’re held back by rules you are supposed to follow, if it’s something your heart desires. I’m tired of fighting this, (y/n).” Spencer whispered his words, words that forced a grin onto (y/n)’s lip, barely believing her luck. Perhaps it was the warmth his words pushed through her body, perhaps it was the excitement his words made her feel, whatever it was that guided her on, it forced her to press her lips against Spencer’s before either of them could overthink this very situation. 
Within seconds she found herself in Spencer’s lap, thighs placed on either side of his, squeezing them. A moan clawed through the both of them in unison, tongues meeting as their hands started wandering. (Y/n)’s fingers tugged on Spencer’s curls, forcing the man to groan against her mouth as his hands found her behind, squeezing the soft flesh through the thin fabric of her leggings. 
“Spencer,” she hummed his name, fingers moving down to his chest, toying with his sweater, desperate to get it off him. “I need you, I want you, all of you."
“You have me, pretty girl, I’m all yours.” A smile widened on (y/n)’s lips as she kissed him again, shifting her weight further against him. The deep groan that left Spencer as her core met his hardening cock made her feel as if she was on fire, needing to feel more of it.
“Bedroom?” All Spencer could do was whisper the word, not trusting his voice, trying to hold back before he’d fuck her ruthlessly on the couch. Wordlessly she guided Spencer to her room, pulling her shirt over her head before he could get his hands on her. The sight left Spencer moaning, teeth nibbling on his lower lip, “You’re so beautiful, more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”
“Onto your knees, be a good girl for me.” The shift of his voice, now dripping with dominance, made her walls clench around nothing, watching him plop down near the edge of her bed. She sank to her knees close to him, eyes following his long fingers, watching how they undid his trousers, how they freed his cock.
This moment had something so intimate to it, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t done this much sooner. For a second, she was forced to think of her mother, wondering how she’d react to knowing that Spencer was about to fuck her daughter, thoughts that were swallowed the second (y/n)’s gaze found Spencer’s twitching cock.
“C’mon, open that pretty mouth of yours for me.” Wordlessly she followed his command, eyes rolling back into her head as he forced her lips apart with the red tip of his cock. Groans clawed through Spencer as her tongue explored the parts he had pushed into her mouth, tasting him, feeling him, hoping that she’d never forget this very moment again. “Tap my thigh two times if this is too much for you, sweetheart.”
She hummed around him, choking on her breath as Spencer forced himself deeper down her throat. (Y/n) gagged around him, tears were instantly dripping from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks one by one, but she didn’t dare pull back, wanting to make Spencer proud. He fucked her mouth slowly, trying to keep his moans from growing any louder, not daring to attract any unwanted attention. 
“You’re taking me as if you were made for me, such a good girl for me.” His praises left (y/n) moaning around his cock, trying to keep her hands from wandering, needing to take care of the heat growing between her thighs. Spencer could tell how needy she was, how much she wanted to feel his hands on her – a sight that only spurred him on. She was at his mercy, would follow his every command, like  his own toy to use, to own, to love. 
“I want you to swallow for me, can you do that, pretty girl?” Their eyes met, his blown wide from the lust thumping through his veins, hers glassy from the tears that kept on rolling. She tried to nod, tried to move her head, though without any luck, Spencer’s cock was too deep down her throat, forcing her to hold still. Her hands pumped the parts he didn’t force down her throat, adding more friction to the way he fucked her mouth.
He twitched against her tongue, about to cum down her throat, letting go with a silent groan. (Y/n) watched his head roll back, eyes fluttering close, lips parted – a sight she’d take to grave with her. She swallowed every drop he offered her, groaning at the salty taste, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time he fucked her mouth, the last time she got to taste him. 
“Take your clothes off and get onto the bed, sweetheart.” Spencer’s gaze burned straight through her, watching her shuffle out of her sweatpants, panties and bra, bare in front of him. The mere sight of (y/n), naked for him, was enough to leave his cock twitching once again, already begging to feel her around him. 
Their eyes held contact as Spencer stepped closer, quickly undressing himself before he rested between her thighs. He pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss, hovering over her with his hands exploring her naked body, cupping her breasts, pinching her hardening nipples before they found her dripping core. 
“Oh god, feels so good, Spence.” She whispered her words, eyes fluttering close as she felt his warm breath clashing against her soft skin, tongue darting out to run along her folds, tasting her arousal. Spencer took his time with exploring her cunt, thumb rubbing her pulsing bundle as he dipped his tongue into her tightness.
(Y/n) choked on her moans, having to cover her mouth to try and stop her sounds from clawing through her too loudly. He studied her with mischief swimming in his pupils, set on making her thrash around beneath him, body shaking from the first of many orgasms he’d push through her.
His thumb picked up its speed as he pushed two fingers into her, instantly finding her swollen spot, close to making her cum right there. Soft praises left him, praises she couldn’t pick up on, already too far gone, about to cum for him. Her teeth drew blood from her lip, biting into the soft flesh all too forcefully to try and keep her sounds bottled in.
“Cum for me, pretty girl, let go.” Spencer’s words seemed to push her over the edge, holding her close as if he was scared she’d disappear right in front of his eyes, not daring to ever let her out of his sight again. His fingers fucked her through her high, marvelling at (y/n) and her pleasure-drunken features. “You did so well for me, so well.”
“Spence,” (y/n) murmured his name with her voice raspy and exhausted, yet dripping with anticipation. “Fuck me, I need you inside of me.”
“Are you sure?” His hands found her chin, forcing (y/n) to get lost in his pupils, struggling to reply. A soft “Yes” rolled off her tongue, momentarily pushing him away to reach for her nightstand, placing a condom in his hand. They kept holding eye contact as Spencer rolled the condom down his hard cock, as he positioned himself near her entrance, and as he pushed into her all too slowly. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” His curses left her clenching around him, needing to deeply exhale as she tried to adjust to his size. Spencer watched her intently, not daring to move before she quietly whimpered his name, telling him to fuck her. He took his time, wanting to properly enjoy this very moment, feeling her walls flutter around him with every thrust.
(Y/n)’s moans guided him on, eyes staring up at Spencer, at the concentration tugging on his features, on the way his tongue kissed his teeth, on the way his eyes swam with a mixture of love and lust. His name rolled off her tongue every now and then, a mere whisper made for his ears only, a confession that weighed all too heavily, a confession that left both their hearts racing in excitement. 
He fucked her faster with every passing second, holding onto the headrest of her bed to try and stop himself from properly destroying her, not wanting to mark her up on their first night together. And even though Spencer tried to control himself, wanting to properly concentrate on (y/n), she couldn’t help but beg for more, letting go of a “Please” every now and then, luring Spencer further into the darkness calling his name.
“Touch yourself for me, pretty, make yourself cum on my cock.” Their eyes kept meeting, watching one another as her fingers circled her overstimulated clit, drawing a few more moans from her slightly parted lips. Spencer knew that he’d never forget this moment, the way she looked so perfectly buried beneath him, made for him only. 
“I’m close, Spence, need to cum, please.” Her words drew a “Fuck” from Spencer, knowing that he was just as close as she was. With a small “Cum” leaving Spencer, she let go, choking on her gasps with her eyes closed and her head thrown back. He kept on fucking her, high on the feeling of her, on the way she called his name, on the way she was his only.
Spencer let go a few seconds later, burying his face in the crook of (y/n)’s neck, silencing his sounds. For some moments they were engulfed by a thick blanket of silence, with only their moans echoing through the night, filling her room over and over again. Only as Spencer pulled away, throwing away the condom, did she dare to find her voice again.
“Spence,” the call of his name left him smiling, finding his way back to (y/n)’s bed. “Don’t leave just yet.” 
“I’ll stay right here with you, promise, but I’ll be gone before your mom comes home, we can’t risk anything.”
Perhaps breaking rules had some perks to it after all. Perhaps breaking rules wasn’t as awful as people have always told Spencer.
917 notes · View notes
ozzgin · 10 months
Note
Omg love your page!.. could you write there was a prehistoric reader who was found with pickle and the t-rex, they noticed that pickle was protecting the woman who was visibly pregnant and almost as tall as him (Sorry if you don't write for preg just a head cannon I thought of 😅)
Thank you and no worries, it’s definitely doable! I’m actually surprised to see how popular the idea of a prehistoric reader is. That’s the charm of requests I suppose, other people sharing their unexpected, creative ideas with you.
Baki Headcanons: Prehistoric! Pregnant! Reader
Featuring an extra protective daddy Pickle and his challengers. Since I’ve already done some backstory on a prehistoric reader, this will focus more on the vulnerability of a soon-to-be Jurassic mother and how that tweaks the character interactions.
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Pickle was the first one to awaken and had to be sedated just as fast, since he immediately begun searching for you, increasingly angry. Everyone had to be evacuated and it took several chloroform bombs throughout the building, but they managed to gain some time.
The scientists didn’t necessarily enjoy separating him from his mate, but after the initial shock of discovering the fetus you were carrying, they wanted to see if by some miracle you both could be revived in a similar manner. A prehistoric resurrection was downright ridiculous to begin with, but a pregnancy frozen in time? Peak of absurdity, and a never seen before breakthrough. Everyone could see their names published in top scholarly journals like Nature.
In a race against the clock, they fumbled with the medical machinery in order to confirm the health status of you and your unborn child. They weren’t sure if a second attempt of sedation would be as successful on the enraged, worried father.
Once all the variables are measured and safety is confirmed, they release you to join Pickle and they exhale in unison, grateful to have escaped the wrath of the Jurassic creature.
Pickle is further motivated to fight his challengers, because this time it’s not just about his hunger and entertainment: he has a duty to his mate, and you need to be fed properly. Though you aren’t as excited about digging into these miniature humans. They remind you of children.
The fighters thread carefully around you. While you may look vulnerable, you have a similar build to Pickle and they’d rather not risk underestimating you. Pregnancy can lead to unpredictable reactions if it means protecting the offspring.
You quietly watch over the fights, like a Roman emperor contemplating the fate of his gladiators. Will the matriarch spare the defeated? Pickle is but your humble servant, ready to act on your wishes.
No matter how you look at it, you just can’t stomach the thought. You stroke your fertile belly and feel overwhelmed with pity. The frail humans have impressed you with their strength, but not enough to want their flesh torn apart.
I’m almost convinced that Yuujirou’s mind would immediately wander to the breeding potential the moment he sees you. Just imagine the powerful outcome of combining your ancient warrior genes and his superhuman modern talent. Yuujirou stares at you long enough to trigger Pickle’s suspicions, and he immediately stands in front of you, reminding everyone that he’s the only one whose children you shall carry.
Retsu and Katsumi view motherhood as something sacred and will treat you like an ornate porcelain piece that could break at any moment, if not careful enough. If your mouth twists the wrong way they will join Pickle in a confused, hurried quest to satisfy your cravings.
Baki and Jack are almost as protective as Pickle, especially when Yuujirou is within several meters distance. You find it greatly amusing when the tiny humans form a shield before you, guarding you from unknown dangers. You clap your hands excitedly at all this entertainment provided to you.
You have to remind Pickle to take a break every now and then, rubbing your knuckles into his tense shoulders. He’s been alert ever since you’ve been brought to this mysterious world and you don’t blame him. Everything is new and confusing and you don’t know what to expect. But all that matters right now is that you’re still together and your family is safe. Pickle rests his forehead against yours, touching your stomach in an attempt to detect any movement. His eyes narrow in a smile when he feels the barely noticeable kick. He misses his old world dearly, but his home is not lost. It’s right in front of him.
1K notes · View notes
castiwls · 2 months
Text
unexplained cases
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Paring; dean x reader
Requested; @walkinthefairygarden
Synopsis; working as an FBI agent means you were more than used to the unusual but even some things drew the line as to strange for you. Little did you know two brothers were also on the case, and this would lead you down a whole new rabbit hole.
Notes; this is the longest thing I've written for tumblr holy. this idea is lowkey so fun tho!! requests are open!
Masterlist
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You were used to strange. You’d spent the last few years of your life dealing with any and all cases which were deemed slightly too abnormal for a normal investigation. You’d seen things most of your colleagues could never imagine, hell even you couldn't have imagined some of the things you’d seen. 
Your time working with the FBI had taught you one thing. People were cruel. Sometimes the worst monsters weren't the ones who lived in the pages of an old Brothers Grimm story, sometimes they were your neighbour or sometimes they were your own family.
It wasn’t abnormal for you to be placed on a case which involved situations where people would go out, have fun, get slightly too drunk and disappear off into the night just to be found the next day in an alleyway by an innocent passerby. More often than not if you found yourself receiving the call that the body that had been found was most likely mutilated in a way that would give most people lifelong trauma.
More often than not after looking around for a little and doing some research into past disappearances you would find a pattern in the victims. They were all young blondes or they were all young men between the ages of 19 and 23. That usually led you to the door of the town's new resident killer who got some sick kick out of killing innocent people and mutilating them to ‘leave their mark’.
But in this case. This was different. It had started out normal enough. Victims in alleyways after nights out. They were all mutilated in some way which led you to the belief that yet again, you had a small-town killer trying to make a name for themselves. 
Yet when the bodies began to be autopsided that was when you began to grow confused and…slightly concerned. Nearly all the victims after death had been drained of more the half of their blood and they all had small hole marks on their necks. 
The corner had laughed joking. “Seem’s we have a town vampire.” And you laughed along while staring confused down at the marks. They were nothing you’d seen before. Maybe you simply had a killer with a creative streak but the killings still left an uneasy feeling in your stomach.
✧.*
“Another one?” You let a sigh fall from your lips as you mindlessly chewed on your nail. “That's the fifth one this week.” You frowned slightly sitting back further into your seat. The police chief continued to fill you in on the latest victim as you stared down at your laptop. None of this made any sense. 
You had a killer. You were sure. But who the hell was draining their victims of more the half of their blood? And where the hell was this blood going? “I’ll be there in an hour.” You nodded to yourself before ending the call and pocketing your phone.
Luckily it didn’t take you long to get down to the bar where the victims all seemed to disappear from. The police chief waved you down as you approached, he passed you a file which detailed the latest victim. “I didn’t know you had a partner agent?” He crossed his arms as spoke.
Your eyes paused on the page as you registered his words. “I don’t,” You said looking up from the file. You started at him confused for a moment. “I’m the only one on this case.” The chief stared back at you his eyes narrowing. “Two other agents came around just before you got here. They said they’d been put on the case after the most recent killing.” He waved a hand at you. “They knew who you were…well claiming to.”
“What were their names?” You racked your mind for a minute trying to think of anyone who could have been placed on this case alongside you but your mind came up empty. Plus if anyone was assigned to help you with this you would have been informed.
“Osburne and Butler.” You looked back down to the file in your hand nodding slowly. You’d never heard of agents with those names before. “Are they still here?” You looked around for a moment before looking back to the chief who nodded before pointing to a black car parked a little down the road. 
Thanking him you began to make your way over to the car. Clearing your throat you came to a stop just before the car. The two men quickly turned, clearly shocked by your appearance. Tilting your head you narrowed your eyes. You’d never seen these men in your life. “Osburne and Butler I take it.” 
They both exchanged a quick look before the taller of the two nodded. “Uh. Yes. Is-is everything okay?” His tone was masked as concern but you could sense his slight nervousness from the way he shifted. “Yes everything is fine,” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m just wondering why you two think it's funny to pose as FBI agents and walk right onto a crime scene.” You hardened your gaze, watching in slight amusement as the one who had just spoken swallowed looking at his friend for help.
The other man scoffed rolling his eyes at you. “Listen here sweetheart, I don’t know who you think you are but we're not faking anything.” He gestured between him and his friend. “We got put on this case today, you can call our supervisor if you're so bothered.”
You frowned turning your attention to him. “You can’t have been put on this case.” You reached into your pocket pulling out your ID. “Because it’s my case. And in all my time working with the FBI I have never heard of any agents called Osbourne and Butler,” You placed your ID back in your pocket. “And last time I checked they were both pretty old.” 
You watched as the smaller man’s eyes widened at your words. You knew Black Sabbath? 
They both stared at you for a moment before the taller one smiled grabbing onto his partner's arm. “Excuse us for a minute.” You nodded, a quiet huff falling from your lips.
This was the last thing you needed right now. You watched unimpressed as the two seemed to go back and forth for a minute before the taller one turned back to you. He sent you another smile as he came to stand before you. “We’ll talk to our supervisor and find out what happened.” You nodded, looking back at the other man who was currently leaning back against the car. “Alright,” You nodded. 
You bid the two goodbye before walking back towards the bar where you could see the forensic officers beginning to move the body. You frowned to yourself as you looked back down at the file. 
Something about the two ‘agents’ seemed off to you. There was no way you wouldn’t have been informed. You watched as the body was taken away no doubt to the morgue which would be your next stop, though your mind was still stuck on the two men you’d just met.
You were 90% sure they were not agents, but before you acted on your suspicions you had to be sure. There was a low chance they maybe were who they claimed to be and somehow another division had caught wind of the cases and had decided to butt their head in but still never in your career had you seen that happen.
Pulling your phone from your pocket you quickly checked the time. You had more than enough time left to go check the morgue before doing some digging.
✧.*
Your fist banged against the door again for what felt like the hundredth time. It hadn’t taken you long to figure out that there had never been any agents with the names Osbourne and Butler. It also hadn’t taken you long to find a case from a few years ago that involved another strange span of killings which had ended with the killer supposedly dead. 
Just as you raised your fist again the door suddenly swung open. The man’s eyes widened slightly as he stared at you. He opened his mouth but you quickly cut him off raising a finger. “Dean Winchester. Right?” You smiled sweetly at the man who simply gapped at you for a moment.
He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Like we said yesterday, we got put on this case just like you did alright? Now I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show up unannounced.” He sent you a small smirk. “If you really have an issue take it up with your supervisor.” 
You pursed your lips nodding. “Really?” You held up a file watching his face drop slightly. “Because this says, different Dean.” 
You pushed the file you’d been holding into his hands, crossing your arms over your chest. “According to this, you died a few years back. Yet. You look pretty alive to me.” 
Dean looked down at the file before looking back up at you. “This.” He waved the file. “Was a misunderstanding.” He glanced down the hallway seemingly relieved seeing that you were alone. “How did you find us.” He asked crossing his arms over his chest.
You could tell by his body language that he didn’t trust you. The way he glared at you was enough to tell you that he was less than friendly. Though you couldn’t deny the slight pull you felt towards him. 
You’d noticed him back at the bar but had kept a professional facade knowing that you had bigger problems. Though now being closer to him you finally were able to get a good look at the man and it only confirmed your thoughts from before. He was very attractive.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m more concerned about why you and your brother are pretending to work for the FBI.” You tilted your head as you questioned him. Dean rolled his eyes moving to lean against the doorway. “Well. Like you sweetheart, we were also doing our job.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You narrowed your eyes thinking for a moment. “Your job?” 
He nodded a small smirk growing on his lips. “What job could you possibly have which would require breaking the law.” Just as he opened his mouth to respond the trill of a phone ringing. Reaching into your pocket you pulled out your phone a small sigh leaving your lips as you noticed the caller's ID. “Again.” You mumbled exasperated before sliding your finger across the screen. 
Taking a step back from the doorway you watched as Dean’s gaze softened slightly. He stepped to the side before gesturing for you to come into the room. Furrowing your brows you stood for a moment, listening as the police chief began talking about yet another kill. 
Deciding he seemed relatively harmless you took his offer. When you’d first come you’d been under the opinion that Dean Winchester may have been your killer, and his hostile attitude upon seeing you had only furthered that belief. Yet getting another phone call while he was standing before you made you begin to rethink your original suspicions. 
Taking a seat on one of the beds you sighed. “Two victims,” Dean closed the door before moving to stand a few feet from you. “Alright. I’ll be there in an hour.” You ended the call before groaning. Two victims completely threw your pattern off. 
You looked around the room for a moment as you spoke before a thought hit you. Dean hadn’t been alone yesterday and you’d read on his file that he had a brother. “Where’s your brother?” You looked back over to the man who was watching you from his spot.
“He’s getting food.” Dean shrugged. “So two more victims huh.” He pushed. You nodded. “Yea. Why do you care anyway? What are you some kind of true crime fanatic.” He laughed quietly shaking his head.
“Oh no. It’s a bit more complicated.” He came to sit beside you, passing the file back. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention the whole me not being dead to your boss.” You pursed your lips. “Why would I do that?” 
Dean Winchester being alive was very strange to you, but it wasn’t your issue. “Because we can help each other.” 
Dean gestured between you both. You stared at him confused for a moment. You needed to solve this case, and soon. Too many people were dying and you still had little to no leads on who it could possibly be that was committing these crimes. You thought it over for a moment. You were breaking so many rules even being here. You should have reported this to your supervisor straight away but you’d been curious. 
“Me and my brother, we deal with stuff like this all the time. We can help but I need you to promise not to try and shoot me if I tell you what we actually do for a living, alright?” 
✧.*
Working with the Winchesters was… interesting. 
You really hadn’t thought your life could get any stranger, yet here you were staring down at the bodies of three men. Turns out Sam and Dean Winchester had actually not been FBI agents and instead they spent their time traversing around the country killing ‘monsters.’
You initially laughed in Dean’s face calling him crazy before attempting to leave but he’d been quick to stop you. He’d then sat you down and pretty much showed you every piece of evidence they had to suggest that these killings were far from normal.
“A vampire?” You stared at him astounded as he simply nodded. “Yes. And most likely a werewolf. The killings line up.”
You’d not want to believe him but part of you after looking at the evidence knew he had a point. And so that had sent you down a spiral over the last week where you’d learnt of things that you’d only ever known about in your nightmares.
After that, the three of you quickly began comparing notes on the case. In doing this you’d quickly come to find at least three possible culprits. Each of the men had been seen in the club the night of the killings and they were always seen leaving with someone.
You’d surprisingly found yourself beginning to enjoy the company of the two. You normally worked alone during your cases and had always found that you’d worked better alone but during the last few days, you’d found that you actually enjoyed working with others.
Over the last two days, you’d always found yourself steadily growing closer and closer to the older of the two men. Dean Winchester was someone who you’d originally planned to keep at an arm's distance, but that plan quickly fell away.
You’d found yourself spending most of your time interviewing witnesses with him while Sam had stayed back going over your notes.
“Thank you, we’ll be in touch.” You smiled at the older woman as she said her own goodbyes before closing the door. Dean let out a breath as you walked down the porch steps towards his car. 
“You still think it could be her son?” You stopped beside the car to face him. Dean crossed his arms nodding slowly. “Yeah. Vamps don’t have to be born. The guy could have been bitten she’d be none the wiser.” 
You nodded pulling your lip between your teeth. “Okay. We got our guy.” A wave of relief ran through you as you stood there. For the first time in the case, it seemed like you finally had a strong lead who you were all sure was the killer.
Everything lined up. Now all you had to do was catch the guy. Dean reached into his pocket pulling his keys out. “We should go get Sam before heading to the bar. If he follows his pattern our guy should be there.” 
✧.*
“So. Case closed I guess.” You mumbled looking down at the body. Sam nodded from his spot opposite you. “Yeah.” You reached into your pocket pulling out your phone. You looked between the two.
“I’m gonna need to call this in, you two should probably disappear before the cops get here.” You smiled at the two. Sam nodded before looking over to his brother who was still looking down at the body. “How are you gonna explain this?” He asked pushing a hand into his pocket. 
“Suicide.” You gestured to the body. “Guy went mad, killed people and then couldn’t live with himself.” You shrugged. “It's more common than you’d think.” 
“Thank you. I don’t think I would have been able to do this without your help.” You rubbed a hand behind your neck before turning to Dean. “I’ll make sure your file disappears, just try and not get framed for another murder.” You teased slightly making the two men chuckle.
“I’ll try.” Dean grinned, his gaze settling on you. Over the last few days, you’d noticed the way he looked at you had changed. At first, he’d been hesitant, he’d always looked at you with a sceptical eye as if he was ready for you to flip on them at any moment but over time he’d realised that maybe you actually did want their help.
Maybe you really weren't going to lead him into a trap. And with that realisation, the way he looked at you had softened. He’d let himself become more comfortable in your presence. The way he looked at you now was different again. There was no lie that you felt something towards him. 
You’d resigned yourself to the fact that he was just another one of your passing crushes. You’d finish the case and he’d move on. Yet looking at him now you could swear he looked slightly disappointed.
“I’m gonna go wait in the car. I’ll see you there.” Sam nodded at his brother before sending you another smile and walking away. You both watched him go for a moment before you turned to Dean.
Dean didn’t say anything as he turned back to face you. He swallowed before raising a hand. “I guess I better let you call this in before someone sees us.” He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck before he turned and began walking away.
You stood for a moment before beginning to follow him “Dean. Wait.” At your voice, he paused turning to face you. You stopped a few feet from him before taking a breath. You slowly stepped closer until your chests were practically touching. 
You heard his breath hitch as he stared down at you, his lips parting slightly. Pushing yourself up you connected your lips with his. His hand wrapped around your waist as your own went to his head. 
His thumb rubbed circles against your waist as he slowly pulled back. A slight blush covered your cheeks as you panted softly. “Hey. Why don’t you come with us?” Dean whispered moving a hand to brush against your cheek.
“What?” You gasped, furrowing your brows as you looked at him. His eyes had lit up slightly at the idea and he smiled resting his forehead against yours. “Think about it alright. We’ll stick around for two more days and if you decide you wanna come with…you know where we’ll be.” He pressed his lips against yours again for a moment before pulling back. 
You frowned slightly watching him disappear around the corner before your attention turned back to the body. Pulling out your phone you found the chief's number before pressing call. As it rang you found yourself nervously chewing on your nail.
You felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. Stay here and continue working for the FBI and leave behind a man who you were very much falling in love with or take his offer and discover a whole new world.
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obsessivelyloved · 25 days
Text
This was requested on one of my nsfw blogs but I went insane and made it 3,000 words long. So I can post most of it here lol. Just know that in my heart, this takes place in Arkham. Also I'm super rusty so I apologize if anything feels off/wonky. The ending is abrupt here bc the rest of it/the ending is nsfw. I was up til 5am writing this and I'm not writing a sfw ending for this blog until after i get more sleep.
Anon asks: I’m a big sucker for Psych Au fics. Reader is a cis female doctor who treats Tord with kindness. He becomes obsessed with her. Refuses to talk to any other doctor. Tord is always on his best behavior for her which leads her to let her guard down. BIG MISTAKE
___________________________________________________________
“You dropped this.” 
The man stares at you wide eyed as you hand him his lighter. He stands, rigid. You give him a gentle smile and press it into his palm, your other hand curling around the back of his hand. 
“I know there’s no fluid in it, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it,” you say to him. You pat his hand and step away.
The man turns fully towards you and you’re able to read the name sewed onto his shirt. 
“I-” the man- Tord- swallows hard. He quickly pockets the lighter. “Thank you.” 
You give him another smile and walk past him. He seemed to be going the same way as you but he never caught up. Nor did you hear footsteps behind you. Once you reach the director’s office, he leaves your thoughts. You were determined to make a good first impression on your first day of the job. 
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The man you met earlier had turned out to be your first patient. And oh boy, what a patient he was. Like you had promised yourself you weren’t going to judge any of these people but god damn. His file was thick. At least twenty papers were inside the manilla folder you had received from the head director’s office. Maybe even more. 
You’d never know if you kept standing outside the director’s office gawking at it. You take a deep breath. Going through it sitting down was probably a good idea. As you make your way to the breakroom, your grip on the folder is tight, trying your best to make sure you don’t drop it and reveal your patient's file. 
Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to get to the breakroom. A few people were there but they paid you no mind. They sit, hunched over lunch or their own files. You sit and start to read. 
Løvik Tord
3 7 2 5 9
DOB: 1995
Age: 28
Hair: Dark brown with lighter brown roots
Eye: Silver
You end up skimming through this until you get to the bottom of the page. It wasn’t… pretty. 
CASE INFORMATION: 
Tord is a violent man. He is aggressive, manipulative, and has a short temper. Many doctors have tried working with him to no avail. He does not respond kindly to Dr.Casey (see page 5), Dr.Bonnie (see page 8), Dr.Roxy (see page 12), or Dr.Harley (see page 15). 
He is extremely aggressive towards Dr. Bruce (see page 20). 
You stop reading there, your chest feeling tight. You flip to page twenty. It’s not the last page like you had hoped. There were still…. Quite a bit in the file. 
Dr.Bruce has tried everything he can to help Tord. He has tried finding common ground with the patient. Has tried being lax and strict with Tord’s schedule. Has tried working with Tord and letting him sit outside. Tord had found every loophole and burned every bridge until Dr.Bruce stopped lenient treatments. Tord stabbed Dr.Bruce fifteen times before guards made their way into the room. 
It is unknown how and where he had gotten his hands on a sharp long blade. Tord was seen licking the blood of-
“Don’t worry if you can’t fix him. At this point, Doctor Markman hands his case off to fresh blood to showcase this place. No one expects you to be able to tame him.” 
You startle at the voice, goosebumps raised on your arms. “I’m sorry?” you ask with a polite smile. Anger clouded your fear. What the hell was this person talking about?
The doctor, Alice, her name tag reads, smiles at you. 
“Nearly everyone has tried working with him at this point,” she continues. “No one expects him to ever get better. He's here for murder, after all.” 
You give her a tight smile in return. “I’ll just have to see for myself.” 
Before she can keep going, you straighten up the papers and close the folder. 
“I appreciate the advice, but I must be going now,” you lie through your teeth. What bullshit! What kind of doctors run this place? 
You actually hadn’t needed to be anywhere for another thirty minutes but if this conversation continued you wouldn’t be able to hold your tongue. Everyone can be saved. With compassion and kindness and help, no one was beyond redemption. Or too far gone for help. 
You storm out of the breakroom and wander. 
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“I was hoping I’d see you again.” 
Tord grins at you as he’s escorted in. His hands are cuffed and before he can sit down, the guard pats him down. 
It makes your stomach churn but you keep your face kind. 
“It’s nice to see you too,” you greet. You watch cautiously as he sits down in the plush chair. The guard leaves the room. 
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
It’s silent enough to hear the clock as the two of you study each other. He seems to drink you in, eyes wandering up and down, seeming to take in everything. You’d do the same if you weren’t a professional. 
“You used to dye your hair?” 
Tord raises an eyebrow. He tilts his head a little, eyes focused solely on you. It unnerves you almost as much as his file had. No patient of yours had ever stared at you so intensely in the past….
After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I fancied black quite a bit.” He gestures towards his roots. “It’s been a while since Bruce got me more dye. No one else will.” 
“I could look into it,” you clasp your hands, jumping into this opportunity. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Doctor Marksman.” 
“And what do you want from me in return?”
“I’m sorry?” 
His gaze hardens. “What. do. You. want.” He grinds out, his body rigid in the chair. His hands were clenched.
Without thinking, puzzlement falls across your face. What did he mean? What did you want? For him to get better, obviously. 
“I want you to be at ease with your mental health,” you answer, still looking puzzled. “I don’t want anything else from this job but that. I’m not dangling hair dye in front of you in exchange. I want you to feel comfortable in your skin and at home here, Mr.Løvik.” 
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. 
“Is that really what you want?” Tord asks, an emotion you can’t quite place in his voice. “To help me get better?” 
Whatever it may be, you smile at him. 
“Of course. I want nothing but to see you succeed and be happy here.” 
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Things were easier after that first session. You always started off kindly, asking Tord how his day was going. If his favorite show or movie had aired on the television today.If his favorite food had been served that morning or afternoon. If he slept fine through the dreadful storm. 
(“I know I wasn’t,” you had laughed. “I tossed and turned, jumping at each sound all night.”
“I’m sure your boyfriend was quite displeased.”
“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, no. I have a cat but no boyfriend. I was too busy getting my decree to ever really mingle like that. Though, my poor little man was also distraught at all the thunder last night. He yowled at my door until I let him into my room and he curled up on my bed. I’ll bring pictures next time.”) 
Too well for you and only you. Tord refused to talk to anyone but you. He would sit in silence or insult other doctors during his sessions. In one instance, he broke a new doctor’s nose. The poor guy had quit on the spot, cussing Tord and the whole place out as he was escorted to the medical section. 
You were tense the next few sessions but that violent man was nowhere to be found. He kept his cuffed hands right in front where you can see them at all times. He never lunged from you. In fact, barely ever moved in his chair. 
Tord was easygoing. Polite, charming, even. He took any medications he needed obediently and put up no fuss when you’d have him describe in later sessions how he was feeling and if he was feeling any negative side effects. 
He asked about your cat. About how your favorite show was going. If the movie you were looking forward to has come out yet. If your favorite restaurant down the street from your apartment was still closed for renovations. 
Eventually, enough time had passed that you relaxed. You stopped keeping your eyes trained on his hands. You stopped worrying yourself sick about his body language. You focused on his treatments and his mental health. 
If he was going to hurt me he would have done so by now, you thought to yourself after your latest session with Tord. He was doing so much better than he had been doing six months ago. It seemed as if you were really making a difference, helping him improve. 
It had been three months since he last fought another patient. Two months since he assaulted another doctor. And five months since he refused treatment of any kind. 
You step outside the building and take a deep breath. A dopey smile sticks to your face as you walk to your car. Becoming a doctor was the best choice you’ve ever made. Nothing was more rewarding than helping people. Not even this cloudy weather could bring you down. 
In fact, nothing tried to drag your mood down. There was no traffic on the way home. Some asshole hadn’t parked in your assigned parking spot again in the parking lot of your apartment. And your sweet cat hadn’t knocked his little box over again. 
You happily reheat your leftovers and watch tv for a while before you get ready for bed. Unfortunately, your mood does come crashing down. 
In the middle of the night, thunder wakes you. You jolt up, scrambling for your phone. Your hands come up empty. Shit, you think. I left it charging in the kitchen. Ugh. Oh well, you don’t need to look at your phone to see it is late and storming. 
Another loud sound booms through your apartment. Only this time, it sounds like a crash. 
“It’s just thunder,” you tell yourself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” You lay back down. Your eyes shut and you’re just about drifting to sleep when your door creeks open. 
You bolt up, knowing damn well that your cat can’t open doors and you freeze. 
Your heart races as your mind tries to process just who was in front of you. 
“Tord?” you whimper, hands shaking. But that can’t be. That was impossible. He was supposed to be sleeping soundly in his room with the soundproof headphones you got him. He didn’t like storms. The thunder reminded him too much of gunshots and made him restless. 
Useless information floods your brain. 
“I’m home, sweetheart,” he rasps. His grin is soft in the moonlight. He reaches over to flick on your bedroom light. 
He’s gentle he’s kind he’s sweet he’s-
He’s covered in blood.
Tord steps forward and you’re frozen in bed. His eyes are wild as they drink you in. There’s blood on his hands. In his hair. Splatters on his face. 
“Oh honey how I’ve dreamed of this,” he croons at the foot of your bed. “Your apartment is just as cute as you described.” 
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theehoneeybee · 7 months
Note
i’ve never made a fic request before but here goes! could i get a mike schmidt x reader request that’s something like….
reader is an old friend who fell out of touch with mike but they stumble into each other. one thing leads to another and they besties again <3 but both of them are like ‘wait oh NO they’re HOT’ but both are also too emotionally dense to realize each others feelings. fluff + some angst where one or the other or both think they don’t like each other but they work it out in the end??
+ bonus: abby loves reader and reader is just so good with her (maybe they draw together and reader just older sister’s abby or maybe reader emergency babysits abby and they get along perfectly or smth?) and mike is just *heart eyes*
(sorry if it’s too much… i just love this man oml… the movie was so good ;w;)
thanks~ 🧡
You really slayed with this idea. I'm obsessed. This ended up being longer than I anticipated but I'm not mad. I'm gonna write the bonus one as well in a separate post so keep a look out :) lmk if you liked it!
Word count: 1.9k
.・。.・゜✭・.
"Mike?"
It was unmistakably him. The last person you expected to run in while grocery shopping was Mike Schmidt. The grocery store was always quiet this early in the morning, most people were still asleep. Your hands gripped the handles of the cart tighter as you stared at the familiar stranger.
The last time you saw Mike was not long after his brother Garrett was taken. He wasn't the same after that. The outgoing boy you once called your best friend had disappeared. The loss of Garrett tore his family apart. You tried your best to be there for him but he shut you out, shut the world out. You kept calling him to check in but after months of silence, your calls slowly came to an end.
Even a decade later, Mike looked the same. He had the same curly brown locks and beautiful hazelnut eyes, but now they were accompanied by heavy bags. He slowly turned around, clearly not expecting any recognition today. You watched as his eyes narrowed for a moment, examining you before widening in shock.
"[Name]?"
Mike couldn't believe his eyes. His childhood best friend was standing in front of him, in a random grocery store at 6:30 in the morning. He clumsily shoved the box of cereal back on the shelf as he turned to fully face you.
"It's been a while," Mike says awkwardly. "How have you been?"
"Quite a while." A decade to be exact. "I've been doing alright, nothing special. How've you been, Mike?"
Hearing you say his name again after so many years was surreal. "I'm fine, y'know, same as always."
The two of you stood in awkward silence for a moment. "I have to keep shopping, but," you grabbed a notepad, scribbling down your number and handing him the page. "I'd like to catch up sometime. See you around, Mike."
You strolled down the isle, leaving Mike standing in silent shock. He stared down at the numbers of the page, years of childhood memories flooding his mind. He pocketed the page and promised himself he would call you.
-
Mike stared at the phone, the numbers staring back at him in anticipation. He was more nervous than he'd care to admit. Mike was going to call you but he kept putting it off. One day led to two, then almost a week later he finally decided to man up. He took one last look at the handwritten number before dialling it in. Mike held his breath as the phone rung.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
He blew it. He'd left it too late and now you're weren't going to pick up-
"Hello?" Mike couldn't speak. The words wouldn't make their way out of his mouth. "Hello?" you repeated again.
"Hi, it's uh, it's Mike."
"I thought you were never going to call."
"I'm sorry," Mike apologies. "I was going to but, I-... I'm sorry," he said with a guilty chuckle.
"I forgive you."
Mike cleared his throat. "I was thinking we should catch up." He twirled the cord of the phone between his fingers like a love-struck teenager. "We could meet at Sparky's tomorrow?"
"Does 11 suit you?"
He nodded before realising you couldn't see him through the phone. "Yeah, 11 is fine." His attempt at being nonchalant was embarrassing.
"Great, I'll see you then Mike." He could hear your smile through your voice. Mike hung up the phone and let out a breath of relief, slouching back into the uncomfortable kitchen chair.
"Someone's got a daaaaate," Abby sung in a sing-song voice from the living room.
"It's not a date!" Mike yelled back defensively. Of course it wasn't a date. Just two childhood best friends meeting up after a decade apart. Completely normal.
-
Mike stood at the doors of the diner, nervously fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. Not that he'd ever admit it to anyone, he changed his outfit three times in anticipation. Of course he landed on his usual hoodie and jeans combo, but he couldn't understand why he was so nervous.
"Fuck it," he whispered to himself and pushed open the diner doors, the bell chiming invitingly as they swung open.
He nervously walked through the diner before he spotted you. You were sat at one of the leather booths, head resting on your chin as yo gazed out the window. The bright winter sun shone through the window, gently illuminating your face. You brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. You looked so beautiful. He hadn't mentally prepared himself for that. In his mind, you were still the thirteen year old with braces that he remembered. You looked so different now, but you were still so remarkably yourself. He almost spun around and ran out the diner back to the safety of his car, but he didn't.
"Hey," Mike said quietly as he took a seat in the old leather booth.
You turned to face him and a sweet smile formed on your lips, sitting up straight. "Hey yourself. Here I was thinking you had forgotten about me again," you were serious but you looked at him with a sly smile. Your eyes darted over Mike's face, taking in his features. His curly brown hair shone in the sun. You may have had a little, well, rather big, crush on him when you were younger, and felt similar butterflies in your stomach.
Mike looked down sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I never meant to cut you off like that. It's just after Garrett was taken, I- I couldn't handle it. I shut down."
You held your smile, but your eyes shone with sadness. "I know. I forgive you Mike." He couldn't help the feeling of guilt rising in his stomach. "Now," you said, grabbing your menu. "What are we eating?"
The server who took your order was lovely. While he commented about how great the breakfast menu was, he insisted that the lunch one was nicer. It was the most important meal of the day after all. You ordered a simple meal of bacon and eggs on toast. Mike chose something a little different. Pancakes with ice cream. He always had a sweet tooth. You remembered back to when you would make cupcakes together as kids. Of course, it always ended with one of you smooshing frosting in the others faces.
You dug into your food and the awkward small talk slowly evolved into a conversation between friends. Mike's tired and closed-off demeanour melting away to reveal the talkative, happy kid he once was. The hours passed by in what felt like minutes as you caught up on years of life. Years you had missed out on spending together. He told you about his sister Abby. You never got to meet her since you fell out of contact before she was born. But from what Mike described, she sounded like a lovely girl. The way he talked about her with such compassion warmed your heart. He always was the best big brother.
"Did they every find out what happened to Garrett?" you quietly asked, scared you were pushing a boundary.
Mike solemnly shook his head. "No. They never found him or the guy that took him."
Your expression fell. Some part of you was holding onto the hope that they would have gotten some closure. For Mike's sake. You knew he blamed himself for Garrett's kidnapping. You gently placed your hand on top of his. It was comforting and familiar. "I'm so sorry, Mike."
"Thanks. I've accepted that they're not going to find him." The two of you sat in silence for a moment. "I never stopped thinking about you, y'know?"
Your heart skipped a beat and you felt your cheeks burn. You were certain that after all these years you had faded from Mike's memory. Hearing those words made your heart soar.
"I know you think I forgot you," Mike continued. "But I could never."
The two of you smiled, staring into each others eyes as your friendship rekindled.
-
"Gosh! They like you Mike. You're so stupid sometimes," Abby insulted, barely taking her eyes off her drawing.
You and Mike had been seeing each other non-stop for the past week. He felt himself longing for your company, wanting you to be by his side. The feeling scared him. He wasn't used to that kind of intimacy. Mike had convinced himself that there was no way you were interested in him. Slowly, he began to distance himself from you. The occasional missed called turned into cancelled plans. He felt guilty about it, just as suddenly as you shit back into your life, he was pushing you out. It was for the best.
Mike groaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch cushions. "I don't need dating advice from a ten year old."
The knocking of the door drew Mike out of his misery. Sluggishly, he got up and answered it, immediately standing up straight when he saw you waiting outside for him.
"Hey, um, what are you doing here?" Mike asked with a nervous smile.
"Just stopping by," you said calmly. "Can I come in?"
Mike slowly nodded and let you inside. His house was modest, in need of a few repairs, but it was loved. Abby's drawings were strewn around the place, with even the occasional crayon mark on the wall.
"Don't you have homework to do, Abby?" Mike turned to look at her, shooting her a knowing look.
She smiled. "Nope," but skipped off to her room regardless.
"She looks just like you," you said with a small smile as you watched the girl go.
Mike stared at you anxiously, waiting for you to yell at him, to tell him how terrible he was, but nothing came. You wandered into the living room, kneeling down to look at Abby's drawings. Mike was in almost all of them.
"Did I do something wrong?" you couldn't hide the crack in your voice, not looking at Mike as you spoke. He felt a pang in his chest.
You thought the two of you had something special. You wanted him back in your life for so many years and when you finally had that opportunity, he pushed you away yet again. You wanted Mike back, not just as your best friend, but more this time around.
Mike sighed and stared at you guiltily. "No, of course not."
"Then why are you pushing me away again?" You turned to face him, eyes glossy with tears. Mike frowned and walked over to you.
He brushed a fallen tear off your cheek and you leant into his palm. "I'm just an idiot." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I like you and I don't want to lose you, but that thought scared me. I didn't know if you felt the same so I did what I knew best. I'm sorry."
You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears. "God, I thought you didn't like me! Every time I tried to make a move you completely ignore it."
The fact you had been flirting with Mike this whole time went straight over his head. He thought you were just being nice.
Mike let out an embarrassed chuckle. "I'm just dense I guess. But I do like you, [Name]. I really like you."
"I like you too," you whispered. Mike hand drifted from your cheek, gently tilting up your chin so you met his gaze. In a moment of confidence, he lent in, his lips softly meeting yours. You lost yourself in the kiss, your hand resting on his shoulder as you melted into him.
After a moment, you slowly pulled away. "Promise not to leave me again?" your lips brushed against his as you spoke.
"I promise."
582 notes · View notes
xxdark-obsessionxx · 25 days
Note
I’m a big sucker for Psych Au fics. Reader is a cis female doctor who treats Tord with kindness. He becomes obsessed with her. Refuses to talk to any other doctor.
Tord is always on his best behavior for her which leads her to let her guard down.
BIG MISTAKE
I was supposed to be asleep five hours ago but I couldn’t until I finished this. Just know that in my heart, this takes place in Arkham. Also I'm super rusty so I apologize if anything feels off/wonky.
CW: Noncon
Dark themes ahead, please read at your own discretion and keep yourself safe. This is a work of fiction and I do not condone or support scenarios like this in real life
_____________________________________________
“You dropped this.” 
The man stares at you wide eyed as you hand him his lighter. He stands, rigid. You give him a gentle smile and press it into his palm, your other hand curling around the back of his hand. 
“I know there’s no fluid in it, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it,” you say to him. You pat his hand and step away.
The man turns fully towards you and you’re able to read the name sewed onto his shirt. 
“I-” the man- Tord- swallows hard. He quickly pockets the lighter. “Thank you.” 
You give him another smile and walk past him. He had seemed to be going the same way as you but he never caught up. Nor did you hear footsteps behind you. Once you reach the director’s office, he leaves your thoughts. You were absolutely determined to make a good first impression on your first day of the job. 
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The man you met earlier had turned out to be your first patient. And oh boy, what a patient he was. Like you had promised yourself you weren’t going to judge any of these people but god damn. His file was thick. At least twenty papers were inside the manilla folder you had received from the head director’s office. Maybe even more. 
You’d never know if you kept standing outside the director’s office gawking at it. You take a deep breath. Going through it sitting down was probably a good idea. As you make your way to the breakroom, your grip on the folder is tight, trying your best to make sure you don’t drop it and reveal your patient's file. 
Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to get to the breakroom. A few people were there but they paid you no mind. They sit, hunched over lunch or their own files. You sit and start to read. 
Løvik Tord
3 7 2 5 9
DOB: 1995
Age: 28
Hair: Dark brown with lighter brown roots
Eye: Silver
You end up skimming through this until you get to the bottom of the page. It wasn’t… pretty. 
CASE INFORMATION: 
Tord is a violent man. He is aggressive, manipulative, and has a short temper. Many doctors have tried working with him to no avail. He does not respond kindly to Dr.Casey (see page 5), Dr.Bonnie (see page 8), Dr.Roxy (see page 12), or Dr.Harley (see page 15). 
He is extremely aggressive towards Dr. Bruce (see page 20). 
You stop reading there, your chest feeling tight. You flip to page twenty. It’s not the last page like you had hoped. There were still…. Quite a bit in the file. 
Dr.Bruce has tried everything he can to help Tord. He has tried finding common ground with the patient. Has tried being lax and strict with Tord’s schedule. Has tried working with Tord and letting him sit outside. Tord had found every loophole and burned every bridge until Dr.Bruce stopped lenient treatments. Tord stabbed Dr.Bruce fifteen times before guards made their way into the room. 
It is unknown how and where he had gotten his hands on a sharp long blade. Tord was seen licking the blood of-
“Don’t worry if you can’t fix him. At this point, Doctor Markman hands his case off to fresh blood to showcase this place. No one expects you to be able to tame him.” 
You startle at the voice, goosebumps raised on your arms. “I’m sorry?” you ask with a polite smile. Anger clouded your fear. What the hell was this person talking about?
The doctor, Alice, her name tag reads, smiles at you. 
“Nearly everyone has tried working with him at this point,” she continues. “No one expects him to ever get better. He's here for murder, after all.” 
You give her a tight smile in return. “I’ll just have to see for myself.” 
Before she can keep going, you straighten up the papers and close the folder. 
“I appreciate the advice, but I must be going now,” you lie through your teeth. What bullshit! What kind of doctors run this place? 
You actually hadn’t needed to be anywhere for another thirty minutes but if this conversation continued you wouldn’t be able to hold your tongue. Everyone can be saved. With compassion and kindness and help, no one was beyond redemption. Or too far gone for help. 
You storm out of the breakroom and wander. 
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“I was hoping I’d see you again.” 
Tord grins at you as he’s escorted in. His hands are cuffed and before he can sit down, the guard pats him down. 
It makes your stomach churn but you keep your face kind. 
“It’s nice to see you too,” you greet. You watch cautiously as he sits down in the plush chair. The guard leaves the room. 
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
It’s silent enough to hear the clock as the two of you study each other. He seems to drink you in, eyes wandering up and down, seeming to take in everything. You’d do the same if you weren’t a professional. 
“You used to dye your hair?” 
Tord raises an eyebrow. He tilts his head a little, eyes focused solely on you. It unnerves you almost as much as his file had. No patient of yours had ever stared at you so intensely in the past….
After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I fancied black quite a bit.” He gestures towards his roots. “It’s been a while since Bruce got me more dye. No one else will.” 
“I could look into it,” you clasp your hands, jumping into this opportunity. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Doctor Marksman.” 
“And what do you want from me in return?”
“I’m sorry?” 
His gaze hardens. “What. do. You. want.” He grinds out, his body rigid in the chair. His hands were clenched.
Without thinking, puzzlement falls across your face. What did he mean? What did you want? For him to get better, obviously. 
“I want you to be at ease with your mental health,” you answer, still looking puzzled. “I don’t want anything else from this job but that. I’m not dangling hair dye in front of you in exchange. I want you to feel comfortable in your skin and at home here, Mr.Løvik.” 
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. 
“Is that really what you want?” Tord asks, an emotion you can’t quite place in his voice. “To help me get better?” 
Whatever it may be, you smile at him. 
“Of course. I want nothing but to see you succeed and be happy here.” 
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Things were easier after that first session. You always started off kindly, asking Tord how his day was going. If his favorite show or movie had aired on the television today.If his favorite food had been served that morning or afternoon. If he slept fine through the dreadful storm. 
(“I know I wasn’t,” you had laughed. “I tossed and turned, jumping at each sound all night.”
“I’m sure your boyfriend was quite displeased.”
“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, no. I have a cat but no boyfriend. I was too busy getting my decree to ever really mingle like that. Though, my poor little man was also distraught at all the thunder last night. He yowled at my door until I let him into my room and he curled up on my bed. I’ll bring pictures next time.”) 
Too well for you and only you. Tord refused to talk to anyone but you. He would sit in silence or insult other doctors during his sessions. In one instance, he broke a new doctor’s nose. The poor guy had quit on the spot, cussing Tord and the whole place out as he was escorted to the medical section. 
You were tense the next few sessions but that violent man was nowhere to be found. He kept his cuffed hands right in front where you can see them at all times. He never lunged from you. In fact, barely ever moved in his chair. 
Tord was easygoing. Polite, charming, even. He took any medications he needed obediently and put up no fuss when you’d have him describe in later sessions how he was feeling and if he was feeling any negative side effects. 
He asked about your cat. About how your favorite show was going. If the movie you were looking forward to has come out yet. If your favorite restaurant down the street from your apartment was still closed for renovations. 
Eventually, enough time had passed that you relaxed. You stopped keeping your eyes trained on his hands. You stopped worrying yourself sick about his body language. You focused on his treatments and his mental health. 
If he was going to hurt me he would have done so by now, you thought to yourself after your latest session with Tord. He was doing so much better than he had been doing six months ago. It seemed as if you were really making a difference, helping him improve. 
It had been three months since he last fought another patient. Two months since he assaulted another doctor. And five months since he refused treatment of any kind. 
You step outside the building and take a deep breath. A dopey smile sticks to your face as you walk to your car. Becoming a doctor was the best choice you’ve ever made. Nothing was more rewarding than helping people. Not even this cloudy weather could bring you down. 
In fact, nothing tried to drag your mood down. There was no traffic on the way home. Some asshole hadn’t parked in your assigned parking spot again in the parking lot of your apartment. And your sweet cat hadn’t knocked his little box over again. 
You happily reheat your leftovers and watch tv for a while before you get ready for bed. Unfortunately, your mood does come crashing down. 
In the middle of the night, thunder wakes you. You jolt up, scrambling for your phone. Your hands come up empty. Shit, you think. I left it charging in the kitchen. Ugh. Oh well, you don’t need to look at your phone to see it is late and storming. 
Another loud sound booms through your apartment. Only this time, it sounds like a crash. 
“It’s just thunder,” you tell yourself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” You lay back down. Your eyes shut and you’re just about drifting to sleep when your door creeks open. 
You bolt up, knowing damn well that your cat can’t open doors and you freeze. 
Your heart races as your mind tries to process just who was in front of you. 
“Tord?” you whimper, hands shaking. But that can’t be. That was impossible. He was supposed to be sleeping soundly in his room with the soundproof headphones you got him. He didn’t like storms. The thunder reminded him too much of gunshots and made him restless. 
Useless information floods your brain. 
“I’m home, sweetheart,” he rasps. His grin is soft in the moonlight. He reaches over to flick on your bedroom light. 
He’s gentle he’s kind he’s sweet he’s-
He’s covered in blood.
Tord steps forward and you’re frozen in bed. His eyes are wild as they drink you in. There’s blood on his hands. In his hair. Splatters on his face. 
“Oh honey how I’ve dreamed of this,” he croons at the foot of your bed. “Your apartment is just as cute as you described.” 
He grabs the edge of your blanket and pulls it off. His smile grows sappy. “You did go for the red pants like I suggested.” He giggles, staring between your legs. “I wonder if there’s a match beneath them.”
That snaps you out of your shocked stupor. You scramble off your bed, slamming your head hard against your nightstand as you try to avoid Tord’s lunging grasp. 
You lay fetal on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your head. “Fuck,” you hiss.
Tord clicks his tongue. He slowly climbs off your bed, crouching next to you. “My poor clumsy sweetheart.” 
You feel his hands in your hair. 
“What do you want?” you gasp. Fear and pain mix as you start to cry into your carpet. 
His hands stroke your hair. 
“You.” 
With that, you’re powerless to stop him as he scoops you up into his arms. You thrash as he dumps you back onto your bed, pinning you down. 
“I know you're scared but it’s ok. I’ll be gentle, my love. So gentle.”
Your mind can’t wrap your head around what’s happening. Tord isn’t supposed to be tying your wrists to your headboard. He isn’t supposed to be kissing your neck and grinding his hard arousal between your legs. He isn’t supposed to be in your home. 
“Such a good girl, staying still for me,” Tord says softly as he pulls back. He slides your pants down. Disappoint clouds his eyes when he sees your panties aren’t red but it’s deepened when he pulls those down and you’re barely wet.
“It’s ok sweets. I’ll figure out what gets you going. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in needing help.” 
Anger wells in your chest as Tord fishes for something in one of his pockets. How dare he. How dare he parrot your own advice back at you. As if this was a simple therapy session. As if you were the patient and he was the doctor wanting to help. 
“Get off me!” you snarl. “You know this isn’t right Tord. Y-you’re sick! You need help!” 
Tord stops what he’s doing to stare dead eyed at you. He plucks a clean rag off your nightstand and stuffs it into your mouth. 
“Enough of that,” he scolds. “You need this as much as I do. In fact, doctors orders.” 
He grins at his own twisted joke. He fishes through his pockets again and pulls out a small bottle of lube. “Yes, just what my love needs. A good thorough fuck.” 
You desperately try to spit the rag out but your mouth is too dry. You twist and tug your wrists but to no avail. This was happening. Your gentle, sweet patient was going to take your virginity. 
Tord carefully squirts lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together. He parts your folds, humming appreciatively as he rubs your clit. 
“That’s it, my good girl. Get nice and wet for me.” 
You feel sick. Against your will, his crooning and his touches stir up arousal inside you. You close your eyes as he gently fingers you as if he was searching for something. 
A minute later, your eyes fly open as he jabs something horrible. Your pussy grows slick from it, pleasure building in your lower stomach. 
“There it is.”
You shake your head violently. Not there, you try to plead with your eyes. Anywhere but there! 
But Tord merely smiles at you and ruthlessly abuses that spot. Over and over his fingers jab and curl,  rubbing it. You squeeze your eyes tight, small moans making their way out of your throat as pleasure jolts through you.. His thumb strokes your clit and you cum embarrassedly fast. You stare at the ceiling and wish you hadn’t wanted to cum at all. 
“Good girl,” Tord praises. He pulls his fingers out, eying them appreciatively. He sticks them in his mouth and sucks, moaning. “So sweet. But I’m too impatient to try it from the source. You’ll have to forgive me, my love.” 
Panic jolts up your spine as you feel his tip pressing against your entrance. You try to climb up your bed rest but you only achieve getting a little higher up on your pillows. Tord sighs and presses forward. 
“It’ll hurt for a moment but I promise this will feel good,” Tord tries to soothe. He picks up the lube and squeezes more into his palm and strokes himself. 
You hate him. You hate him with all your heart. 
He pushed forward and once again, you squeezed your eyes tight. His hand roughly grabs your throat. 
“Eyes on me,” he snaps. “I want to see how good I make you feel.” 
The fear overturns the pain and you quickly open your eyes. He pushes further in, reaching down to run your clit. 
Tord rocks his hips a little, eyes starstruck as he stares down at you. “You’re getting wetter,” he mumbles to himself. A grin spreads across his face. 
His hips snap forward, setting a firm pace. He stops rubbing your clit to grab under your thighs. He lifts them up and pushes until they’re almost touching your breasts. 
He thrusts harder and- 
You squeal, bucking your hips as he hits that horrible spot. You can’t stop bucking your hips, jolts of pleasure stabbing your stomach and stars in your eyes. 
Tord pressed closer to you, caging you in. He holds your gaze intensely, panting a little. His eyes dart between your face and your bouncing tits. 
Like earlier, you cum fast. This one hits you harder. And Tord doesn’t stop. 
You cum again and he pulls out. “Move and I’ll beat your ass with a belt,” he growls. He pulls out a switchblade and cuts the rope off your headboard. He’s quick to tie your wrists together. 
You find yourself on your stomach, ass up. Tord firmly holds your hips. He enters again, pressing down against you. Caging you against the mattress as he pounds into your pussy hard. By the time you’re cumming again, he finally cums with you. 
You’re crying by this point. Overstimulation has you cringing, your pussy tingling as he pulls out. Once again, you start to panic. Tord had come inside you. You thrash underneath him. 
“Stop that,” he hisses, slapping your ass hard. You cry harder as he does it another three times. And another, until you finally go still. 
You hear Tord sigh harshly. “I need to be patient with you,” he mumbles to himself. He gets off of you and you hear him leave the room. 
He’s back within minutes, holding a wet hand towel. You’re gently turned over onto your back and he softly cleans you up. You can’t look at him. 
“Mrrow.” 
Your heart jolts. Your cat jumps onto the bed, purring as Tord pets him with his clean hand. Traitor. 
“You rest while I pack,” Tord says softly. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll grab everything you need and love for our new home.” 
He climbs off the bed and leaves the room again. He comes back with duffel bags. Your cat paddles up to you and curls up next to you. He purrs hard as you sob your eyes out.
232 notes · View notes
coff33notforme · 1 year
Note
PLEASE CAN YOU WRITE A WALLY DARLING X READER (ROMANTIC) WITH A NON VERBAL READER? NO PRESSURE THO X3
A/n: Yes of course Anon! This was a super cute idea and I really enjoyed writing it!
Disclaimer: Once again this might be inaccurate to the experience of everyone who is non-verbal, I mostly based this off of how my friend who is non-verbal communicates, so if this isn't true for everyone thats why!
Pairing: Wally Darling and Gn Reader (Romantic!)
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When Wally first met you, he was inclined to greet you with an over the top introduction, so when you responded in silence it threw him off
Did you feel overwhelmed by his greeting? Were you uncomfortable? Or maybe just shy?  
But he was snapped out of his thoughts when you you gave a gentle wave, a concerned look on your face 
Wally smiled, letting out a breathy laugh
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m Wally, and you are?” he paused hoping you would say something, but much to his surprise you instead reached into the bag that hang on your hip, pulling out a notepad of some sort before you jotted something down
Before you flipped the notepad around
‘I’m Y/n, it's nice to meet you’
Wally smiled, before he continued, telling you about his friends and neighborhood
Over time Wally will become more comfortable with asking questions about you being non-verbal, he didn’t want to get all up in your face about it the first time he met you of course but since your much closer now, it doesn’t seem inappropriate
If you have any other preferred method of speaking other than writing things down Wally would be happy to help you feel more comfortable using them around other people
Like Sign language, or if you have a tablet that you use to communicate, anything you want  
Even though you don’t speak to Wally using your words, he's become very good at picking up on cues you give him that signal your behavior, as well as reading your body language to know how your feeling 
When you first met your other neighbors, Wally had simply remained quiet, something rare to see from the usually energetic, puppet letting you introduce yourself to them with your notepad. It was clear from their expressions that they were confused
You turned to Wally expecting him to say something, but he simply returned your stare, moving his hands, signaling you to continue
You sighed, flipping the page to jot something else down, then you turned the notebook again
‘Hi, I’m y/n, I’m non-verbal, so I won’t be using my voice to communicate with you, I hope we can all become good friends.’ 
You glanced to Wally nervously, but he offered you a supportive smile, giving you a thumbs up
“That's so cool!” Julie shouted waving her arms enthusiastically, you gave a small smile
“How else do you speak? Do you just write?” Sally quipped curiously
You stepped back a little, feeling overwhelmed by the flood of questions being thrown your way
Until you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder, Wally! 
You completely forgot he was here, he offered you a lazy smile
“Now, we don't want to overwhelm our guest here, do we?” 
Julie and Sally shook their heads, as you gave a meek smile
“Then we'll be on our way for now, see you two later.” he spoke, before turning on his heel walking away with you in hand
You turned to Wally arching an eyebrow at him
“What?” 
You looked to him and then back at your neighbors behind you, you flipped your notebook up, writing something down again before showing it to wally
‘Why didn’t you say anything when we were talking to them?’
Wally gave out a low hum
“Because I know you can talk for yourself, you didn’t need me to say anything for you, and they loved you!” he exclaimed, you felt your cheeks become warm as you smiled
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Feel Free to Drop me some more Welcome home requests!
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portgasdwrld · 11 months
Note
Hii!! I came across ur page and ur writings are so good and nicely written!!(*^^*) so I was wondering if I could request like a scenario of ASL (+any character of ur choice!) accidentally finding/stumbling upon the readers diary and inside the reader wrote their true romantic feelings about ____ (character) and they (!character) felt the same way about the reader and the rest could be up to u!! Please and thank uu in advance :]
Pretty much just fluff! (๑>◡<๑) Anyway, I hope you have an amazing day/afternoon/night!!^^
Hi lovely 💕, thank you so much. I’m happy y’all enjoy my writing ! I would love to do that but I’m still not that familiar with Sabo so I can only write about Ace and Luffy 😔🫶🏻I hope you still like it nonetheless 🍃the idea is so cute btw 🤍
📂Op men + stumbling on your diary
Featuring: Luffy, Ace
Warning: None, vomiting fluff
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Luffy
Luffy was always dense about things such as love. He knew what it was and he believed he loved a lot of people in his life like his family and his friends, but he wasn’t one to think farther about it as such as a relationship. He loved a lot of things in life such as adventures and being true to himself.
He didn’t know that you admired him a lot for that. You thought he was such an amazing person. The way he would turn a situation to his advantage with his mental & physical strength, was inspiring you to do the same, to never let a fight end without absolutely giving your all. He gave you the courage you were lacking at critical times and that made you admire him even more as your captain.
On his part, Luffy do notice your fond smile when you walk up to him at the end of a day on the Sunny and simply stare at him. He would jokingly ask you what was making you happy, but you would shook your head telling him it was nothing. Staring off at the sea with eyes glittering at the thoughts of new adventures waiting for you next to Luffy.
It was feelings you wanted to tell him. Too nervous, you filled the empty pages of your diary with emotions that couldn’t find their way out of your lips. You wrote how much you admired him but slowly that admiration turned into a crush. When you realized, you couldn’t shake away the rush of anxiety that took over your every nerves.
You? Thinking you had a chance with the person you knew was going to be the future King of pirates?
A severe frown on your face, you read again and again, and over and over the pages you wrote about him. Your eyes widened and with shaky hands, your pen fell from your grip. You let out a shaky breath as your head fell into the palms of your hands in despair.
What were you going to do, it was the the first question to pop into your mind.
You had to forget about them. You couldn’t be in love with your captain. You quickly closed the diary and threw it behind a pile of clothes and books. As you looked at the now hidden diary one last time, your teared up.
You took your distance with Luffy ever since that day. He noticed and he asked you if you were okay. If you were sick, if you were hungry? But you let him know you were fine and walked away. Luffy could feel the atmosphere between you two wasn’t the same and he hated it.
One day, Nami had sent him to look for her book in your room. He grumbled that he didn’t want to but after a beating from the redhead, he walked into your room. He searched in your room but fell instead on a purple book with « Diary » written in bright yellow on the cover.
He grinned mischievously because he knew what were those. When he was a kid he was definitely noisy and would read diaries of anyone who had the bad luck of leaving it next to him. He laughed as he jumped into your bed and started to read it. He quickly went through the pages not truly taking his time to read it, but his eyes caught a page that have been ripped but tapped back into the book.
His eyes grew big as he read your true feelings for him. He was shocked because he never knew you felt like that about him. He couldn’t help but also notice the way his heartbeat picked up from the indirect confession.
-HUUUH?! THEY LIKE ME?!
He closed the book and ran to you, screaming your name across the ship. He finally found you in Sanji’s kitchen helping him with the dishes.
-YOU LIKE ME ?!!
He yelled at you. Assimilating the information he just said you stared at him blankly completely confused. The plate that was in your hand fell on the floor. You blushed and furrowed your eyebrows.
-Wha-What are you talking about !! I don’t like you !!
-YES YOU DO! ITS WRITTEN THERE !
He screamed again overly excited when he rubbed your diary in your face. You grabbed the familiar book and looked at him with a mix of fear and anger. You took a big breath and looked at him with confidence.
-SO WHAT IF I DO?! I KNOW IM NOT WORTH BEING YOUR LOVER BUT I STILL DO !
You yelled back with tears at the corner of your eyes. He looked taking back but his faded smile was now replaced with his infamous warm grin.
-What are you talking about? Worth? What’s that all about, if you like me and I do too, it’s just natural for us to start dating.
-What..?
You asked in a little voice with your diary held tightly on your chest. You couldn’t truly believe him, it felt too good to be true.
-If you two could please leave your romantic drama out of the kitchen, I have to serve the food.
You heard Sanji softly say while picking up the broken plate from the floor and making sure you weren’t hurt.
-FOOD?!
-ITS NOT READY YET!
Sanji scolded him as he pushed him away from the boiling pots.
-HURRY UP, WE HAVE TO CELEBRATE Y/N AND I !!
-Luffy…
You whisper. He looked back at you and stretched his arm and pulled you against him. He hugged you tightly.
-Now, you don’t have a reason to be distant from me.
Ace
You had sent Ace to search for your notebook that was lying on top of your desk. He couldn’t miss it and you were too busy right now to get it, so he accepted. The notebook mentioned a lot of interesting information about the next island y’all were about to visit, that you gained from the citizens of the last island. Ace was curious so you told him to grab it in your room while you finish your task.
Ace looked around but saw a bunch of books on top of your desk. He sighed confused at what to do now because he had no clue which one was the right one. He sat on the chair and started to go through each of the books at the research of your precious notes.
With a bored expression he looked through them until he stumbled on one that was at the bottom of one pile. It was a crimson read notebook with Diary written on it. He didn’t thought much of it, thinking it was probably a diary keeping up with your journey on the sea, which it was but there was a little twist. Curious he started to read quickly through the pages and a faint smile curved his lips at the mention of your family and the friends you made on the sea. He started to wonder if you possible talked about him somewhere.
His stomach clenched in nervousness. He started to think that maybe he was invading your personal space and maybe it was better to let your thoughts about him unknown. What if it was something bad that could completely ruin your friendship with him, but maybe he should know if there was. He was stuck in a dilemma. He sighed as he looked up at the ceiling wondering what to do.
Fuck it, it was too tempting.
You two have been quite flirty and had even shared a drunk kiss but he didn’t count it because he doesn’t even think you remember. He always had feeling for you, the moment he saw you. So now it was maybe his chance to see if you felt the same or maybe not.
-Alright let’s see~
He started to read from the moment you mentioned being a member of the Whitebeards and how it felt. He smiled when you mentioned thinking Marco looked funny with his pineapple hair and how giant WB was. Little things that you thought, but still felt worth writing down. Then his eyes fell on his name. His heartbeat quickly picked up, now nervous. You wrote about one guy grabbing your attention.
“Then, this guy named Ace, I think, walked up to me to present himself. I never met someone as charming as he is or maybe I did, but my heart never reacted the way it did with anyone else. I felt like I was about to faint, he probably noticed the way I started to blush. Quite embarrassing..He has the cutest freckles and wear this unique hat all the time. He’s funny and everyone seems to very like him on the ship. I hope we could eventually get closer and I could get to know him more.”
He couldn’t help but grin at your short description of him and how it felt meeting him. He did remember that day, how nice it was to welcome a new member on the ship. Especially, someone that made him feel some type of way that few did. It was a little bit funny to him to see you write that and now seeing how close you two got. You were inseparable.
He continued reading the pages at the research of something more. He knew curiosity killed the cat, but he was ready to risk it in that moment. Then he found it, his eyes widened and a smirk covered his face.
So you did remember.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t tell this to no one so I might as well write it here. Ace and I kissed. We were both drunk, but I can clearly remember this happening. How am I supposed to face him now, I’m truly panicking. The best thing is probably acting like nothing happened. He will simply think I was too drunk to remember. God I need to watch how much I drink. I wish our first kiss didn’t happen like that though… wished it was more intimate”
-What are you doing ?
You asked lowkey annoyed as you opened your door.
What was taking him so long honestly? That’s what you thought before you decided to help him out and walk back to your room. When you walked in, you saw him sat on your chair with a familiar book in his head.
His eyes widened in shock and his face quickly got red as he roughly closed your book and pushed it with the others.
-Don’t tell me, you said as panic ran through your system. You walked quickly to your desk and saw your Diary not too far from Ace. You grabbed it and held it tightly to your chest as you glared at him in embarrassment and anger. You blushed as your mind started to wonder what did he possibly read.
-I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy when you trusted me in your room and-
He started explaining while standing up.
-What did you read?
You sternly asked cutting him to go straight to the point. You couldn’t make him unread the pages of your journal anyway. You were mad if you were to be honest with yourself, but you were also nervous wondering if he read too much and how it could affect y’all relation.
-I…I was at the part where you talked about the time we kissed when we were drunk.
He admitted as he scratched the back of his wavy black hair. You sighed and walked to your bed were you sat defeated. So he knew how you felt about him. He stared at you with guilt.
-Then you know how I feel about you ?
His eyebrows furrowed and he looked at you a bit confused but nodded at your question. You rubbed your eyes with your hand as the other one was still holding your journal closely. You looked up at him and smiled accepting your situation.
-I like you, Ace.
You admitted while slightly looking away too embarrassed. You stared back at him to watch his reaction and the man in front of you simply grinned. A smirk creeping on his lips, he walked towards and took your free hand in his weirdly rough but soft hand. He pulled you up, standing now at few inches of you.
-You said you would’ve wished our first kiss to be different right ?
You smiled back and hummed as you looked at his dark eyes. He was even prettier up-close.
-Then let me fix this.
He whispered before pressing his slightly chapped lips against yours. You smiled before kissing him back, letting your lips fold into his. You threw your book on your bed as your arms found their way around his neck where you brought him closer to you. Ace pulled back a little to catch his breath, he felt that his heart was about to explode.
-I like you too, y/n.
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saintescuderia · 3 months
Text
pancakes (pt. 2)
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AKA - the story of how the naive australian rookie befriended the gym junkie F1 hospitality worker with the shoe collection - and inadvertently broke the grid's most treasured and unspoken rule: you don't go for y/n.
series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)
A/N: apologies for the delay; was marshalling the aus gp lol. enjoy.
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P2 - hamstring and piriformis stretches
“Y/N Tessio?”
“She works in hospitality.” Oscar clarified without an ounce of stress. He wasn’t embarrassed by this. Yes, he was close friends with a member of the F1 Hospitality. Yes, he was asking that part of his Formula 1 contract include that you become his personal trainer. Yes, he wasn’t going to accept any contract without that condition. 
Otmar didn’t know that last fact when he had laughed off Oscar’s request the last time they had spoken. It was the last nail in the coffin that showed to Oscar what had been gnawing at his gut for so quite some time: this team wasn’t quite right. Now, at lunch with Zak Brown, who had wanted more official meeting in the McLaren motorhome, Oscar laid out the same request. And Zak Brown seemed understand the severity of it: Oscar Piastri would not accept anything unless you were right there with him. 
This morning was only proof of it all. His anxiety had kept him up and it was only after finding you that everything seemed to work itself out. After you had made him run a lap around the track, you promptly dumped some melatonin gummies in his hand and sent him off to bed to sleep. And sleep he did. Oscar had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long, long while. 
Refreshed, Oscar had taken your advice and called Lily. He mentioned love languages and she gushed. The call ended with them sounding more on page and stronger than ever. Oscar also took your advice in calling his dad to ask about a lawyer. His dad had been surprised that his son had been so forward thinking.
Oscar had admitted it was your idea. His dad stopped being surprised; of course it had been your idea. 
“Oh, they’re good people, Osc. The sort you need around you in a place like Formula 1! Make sure you have them on your team!” Oscar was already thinking what his dad was suggesting, agreeing wholeheartedly. He needed you on his team.
And that was before Oscar arrived at the Alpine motor home for one of the staff to let him known that hospitality had delivered some specially made protein pancakes and fresh orange juice for his breakfast. There was a note under cutlery with your scrawl of ‘take magnesium.’ 
He asked his Alpine trainer for some, the very same one you thought was an utter dickhead. Said trainer, François, somehow didn’t have any supplements. Sighing, Oscar dug into your famous pancakes that had the perfected macros for an athlete of his sort. He would just ask you for magnesium later - and take your usual heat of having a “fucking dropkick of a trainer.” It was just more and more proof that Alpine wasn’t looking good for him. Even he knew it was bad for a trainer to not be prepared like that.
Now, in a room full of papaya orange, Oscar looked at the American CEO and waited patiently for Zak Brown to tell him what he thought about the request to have you working alongside McLaren Racing as part of Oscar’s contract.
“What, um, what qualifications does she have?” Zak asked, shifting slightly to type on his computer. Oscar watched as Zak’s eyes grew as he stared at the screen. “Oh, I know her! She makes an solid cappucino!” 
“Melbournian barista.” Oscar smiled. It was true, you had gotten your barista license back when you were living in Melbourne. And if there was one thing Melbournians were proud of, it was their coffee. “She grew up near Albert Park.” Oscar added the tidbit you had dropped upon first meeting and Oscar was basking in the Australian accent. 
"Says she was born in Monaco." Zak said.
"What?" Oscar frowned, completely taken aback at this. You had never mentioned anything to him about being born in Monaco. You were from Melbourne, near the beach. That's what you had told him.
Nothing about Monaco, Monte Carlo.
In Europe.
But Oscar didn't have time to process that because Zak Brown continued on. “Still, it doesn’t say anything about Y/N being trained in anything health or sports-related.” The McLaren CEO said, his eyes skimming over his computer screen that likely read your resume that was stored in the shared F1 database. Formula One Group and the FIA had allowed team principals and CEOs to access these files when they needed to identify a snitch that had violated the NDA.
It was all too often that a team suffered a blow by a Hospo staff member whistleblowing some important fact they overheard while serving the refreshments. 
“She knows about Daniel.” Oscar said. Zak blinked, clearly taken aback. He swallowed and Oscar quickly added, “And no, she didn’t tell me. I figured it out that she knew and told her.” 
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“Okay, you’re right. I do feel better.”
“Better enough to do another lap?” You grinned at your friend whose sweaty face dropped into a deadpan. You had both slowed down as you came to the starting line. Now that was nearing the 6am mark, there were more and more people starting to come out. 
But you were with a driver. You knew all too well that it would be fine. Drivers are untouchable. You wanted to milk this for all it was worth. “Come on, Piazza! A light jog!” You added, wanting to enjoy this just all the little bit more. 
“You’re insane. No.” To prove his point, Oscar actually came down to sit on the road. And then he lay flat on his back. You watched him and exhaled, accepting one lap was all you were going to get. Hell, that was more cardio than you normally did. And besides, you knew Oscar had a rough night and was running in Sambas. Athlete aside, you were just surprised he managed the lap in as is. 
So you came to sit beside him, except you didn’t lay back and try to catch your breath as he did. No, instead you stretched your legs out and then leaned forward to stretch out your calf muscles. 
Oscar looked over at you and rolled his eyes. The ever insane gym junkie Y/N. He knew he should be doing the same. His flexibility had really taken a toll and besides that, he was stiff and restless from all the travelling and the stressful conversations with his girlfriend and team principals. Oscar sat up and brought his legs out just like you and leaned forward to stretch his hamstring. Just like you. 
You said nothing about this but you didn’t need to; the smug grin on your face was enough. You switched legs shortly. Oscar copied. You brought both legs together. So did he. You leaned back and brought your knee up to stretch your piriformis. Oscar begrudgingly did so. And so it went as you and Oscar stretched your entire bodies out right there at the starting line of the Sochi Circuit. It was when they finished the reverse pigeon pose on both sides that you stretched your legs out and made no move for another stretch. You both settled in a comfortable silence and watched the sky. 
Oscar watched the sunrise and smiled, feeling a lot lighter after the run and the stretching. He glanced over at you watching the sun and felt a sense of appreciation for you.
“Think carefully of who you choose to drive for.” You said, breaking him from the reverie. “This will be your first F1 team and it will reflect on how other teams in the future will see you.” Oscar was quiet as he thought about your words. Some birds were starting to fly across and Oscar noted how your eyes trailed them. 
Oscar took a steading moment and then said what had been on his mind the entire night. “Daniel Ricciardo is going to be dropped. Zak Brown wants me to be his replacement.” 
You didn’t react. 
You didn’t have to. 
All you did was keep watching the birds. 
Oscar pursed his lips. Of course you weren’t surprised. You were never surprised. And you already knew about Daniel.
“You know about Daniel and McLaren.” It really wasn’t a question. You offered him a soft smile in response and sat up to stretch out your hand to gently squeeze his. Oscar frowned. 
“My platonic brother in Christ,” you began with a sad smile and he grimaced, “you have a good heart. Don’t let this place take that shit away from you.” 
You let go of his hand and Oscar sat up to face you. “Why didn’t you— you didn’t say anything.” 
“It’s not my place, man, I just make the coffee.” You said with a full fledged smile. Oscar was at a loss for words. You often worked shifts at McLaren - he knew that because those were the days you had double sessions at the gym. Oscar never found it in himself to ask. Now, he did. 
“Do you not like… McLaren or anything?” Oscar asked. “Should I not drive for them.”
You were silent for a moment looking ahead of you before you spoke. “No, nothing wrong with the team.” It was clear there was something wrong with something. Oscar couldn’t ask because you stood up and held out a hand to him. He took it and let you pull him up. “Come on. Reserve drivers are only needed after lunch. I’ll give you some melatonin to help you sleep and then you can call your girlfriend.”
“And find a lawyer.” Oscar added. “But I think Zak Brown could get me one.”
“Always have your own lawyer.” You said with such a firm conviction that it had Oscar looking at you with curious eyes. 
Sometimes, he wondered how you knew so much about the ins and outs of life in Formula 1. 
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“So you’re saying Y/N actually follows the NDA?” Zak asked, bringing his hands together to rest under his chin. 
“Yep. Wakes up at 4am everyday and works out for two hours. Doesn’t drink or smoke and if given the chance, would probably run a half marathon at every track. She's worked with F1 for years so she knows the diet and routine of a driver.” Oscar paused and then tried to remember some more facts now that he had his chance, his opening.
Never mind that he didn't know you were apparently born in the heart of Formula 1.
Though, that reminded him— “She's fluent in French. And Arabic. Which will be good for the Middle Eastern and European races." Oscar added, thinking of your background. Or what he did know of your background. "And she has an international license.” Or he thought you did, vaguely remembering you mention something about cars in Japan. Japan!
“I think she also speaks Japanese pretty good.” Oscar said, remembering Spa last year and seeing you conversing with Yuki Tsunoda as you made him a matcha.
“Hmm.” Zak pursed his lips. His eyes scanned over the resume once more and then nodded. “Look, Oscar, it’s no secret that I want you for McLaren. I think you’d be a very good fit here. If you think Y/N would be a good fit with McLaren also, then I’m onboard with that.” 
Oscar nodded, finally letting himself let go of the seriousness and let out a smile. He honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was actually happening.
But if his father had taught him anything, it was to not get too carried away. Oscar kept composed as he kept his face as neutral as possible and smiled politely. “That sounds really awesome, Zak, thank you. When could we get everything in paper so I can go over it with her?” And his lawyer.
“I’ll speak to some people today and we’ll get a rough contract outline ready. Helen, the PR manager, will send it to you and Y/N,” Zak looked back at his screen, “to the email on the resume here. And then we can organise a meeting and move forward.” Oscar smiled once more, feeling the stress and tension dissipate from his shoulders. 
“But,” Zak then added, “I can’t really promise anything. The lawyers will need to sort this out since she’s already under contract with the Formula One Group and if they won’t release her then there might not be much we can do about it.”
Oscar nodded, frowning slightly. “I understand.” Admittedly, that was something he hadn’t thought about. He’d been too preoccupied trying to get Y/N a place with him on whatever team he joined that he didn’t think about her tie with Formula One Group. 
“If all goes well, though,” Zak was quick to add, seeing Oscar frown, “we could even sponsor some study for her and help her work her way up. If she’s as dedicated as you say, and has that sense of integrity and spirit, then McLaren would be perfect for her.”
Oscar knew Zak was trying to butter him up with the promise of having Y/N. And Oscar had to admit, it was working. This was about you, after all.
There was a knock on the door. Oscar recognised Zak’s PA but couldn’t recall a name. She offered him a warm smile and then apologised. “I’m so sorry to interrupt but Lando wants to speak with you.” 
“Yes of course!” Zak beamed. “Send him in.” He stood up and Oscar’s manners kicked in and he stood up also, assuming the meeting was now over. This reminded Zak of him and he returned his attention at the young Australia. “Unless you had any questions or anything else you wanted to add?” Zak’s question made Oscar want to laugh since they were both already standing up and Lando Norris was already through the door. 
Oscar knew how these politics were going to go. If he did sign with McLaren, Lando Norris was going to be the number 1 in everything. And not just in driver priority. 
“Nope, all good. Thank you again for listening and being so receptive to my request about Y/N.” Oscar held out his hand. Zak shook it and smiled. 
“I have a good feeling about this, Oscar. I’m looking forward to the future.” Zak said. He came around the table to greet Lando and Oscar smiled at his soon to be teammate. 
This wasn’t the first time Oscar had met Lando Norris, such was the small world of karting and racing. However, it was the first time that Oscar had seen Lando since Zak Brown had made it clear that he wanted him to be Norris’ new teammate.
Oscar wasn’t sure how to feel about Lando, knowing that the driver was equal points talented as he was, well, spoiled. Not that a spoiled F1 driver was a novelty, but Oscar had noticed that Y’N’s mornings before a McLaren shift always ended with a long sparring session with the punching bag.  
“Alright?” Lando said with a lazy acknowledgement. “Heard the news.”
Oscar’s kept his face straight. Of course Lando Norris would see no need for subtlety. The PR training all drivers went through for the media usually extended to the Paddock as a whole as conversations were always sanitised. Everyone knew that what you said wasn’t what you meant. Talking around the issue was part of the life of Formula 1. 
Oscar was used to this. So seeing Lando so abrupt about this, and in front of Zak Brown, was quite telling. Especially when it was doubtful that Daniel himself knew anything about his imminent redundancy. 
“Yeah, I’m good. Nice seeing you around.” Oscar said, keeping himself polite and respectful - and making no comment about the news. He looked at Zak Brown once more and offered his thanks before letting the PA show him out of the room. Oscar looked back to see Lando staring at him. Oscar considered just what he was signing up for. 
Still, Oscar could turn around and leave the office with a weight off his shoulders. Even though he knew how it would look, walking out of McLaren, he was surprisingly more at ease than ever. Sure, Oscar knew the fallout of leaving Alpine and joining McLaren would be bad; especially if it meant kicking out another driver - and one that was a personal hero, but he felt a lot more at ease. No matter the fallout, no matter Lando Norris, he knew it would be okay. Because he was going to have you right there next to him. 
There was no way Oscar was going to survive Formula 1 without you. And your gym addiction. 
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