#I do not have time to just go gallivanting off to do this??

[strawberry-jackalope]

my internship is gonna make my hair fall out from stress, I just know it

[mochiwrites]

couldn’t help writing a lil thing from @plumadot’s arts (linked here and here!)🥺👉👈 third life scarian possessed me so hard I broke out of my burn out for this reblogs would be really cool and awesome okaythankyou

——————————

“And how are preparations for Doom Day going, my good sir?” Scar’s voice is a light sound behind him, tone cheerful and inquisitive all at once.

Grian turns around from where he’s knee deep in sand, a small hole dug out in front of him. Scar comes to stand beside him, red eyes staring down at him. His gaze is soft, far too soft for a man who’s meant to be anything but.

With a soft noise, Grian pushes himself up to stand while dusting off his hands. He leaves his shovel in the ground by the hole. His wings flutter.

He hums, surveying the area. He gazes at the holes of sand, where the tnt will be set down, at the place where a bunker will be built. “Not bad, I’d say. I think this place’ll be ready by tomorrow or some time ‘round then.”

Scar whistles, moving to casually wrap an arm around the green life’s shoulders. “Amayzin’!” His lips lift in a smile. “Man, those Dogwarts guys won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“That’s if this trap even works, Scar,” Grian mutters, unable to hold back the bitterness in his voice. His traps have hardly worked all game, and he’d be lying if he said he isn’t worried about this one failing too. “It has to,” he says, brows knitting together, “there’s too much riding on this one.”

His eyes trail over to Scar, who doesn’t seem to share his worries.

“Aw, c’mon G,” Scar starts as he pulls the other toward him. He tugs so that Grian’s facing him, their faces a few inches apart. Grian can feel how warm Scar is this close, can see the way his chest rises and falls. “I have total trust in you and your trapping skills. So relax a little, yeah?”

Grian frowns at him in turn. Speculation and trust aren’t good enough when up against his fail rate. He needs one hundred percent certainty. But he can’t just test this one. It’s a one time pull. “Scar—”

Careful fingers grab his chin, rough and calloused from the harsh conditions of the desert but still far too careful. Red names aren’t supposed to be careful or gentle, and yet here Scar is.

“I trust you,” Scar says again, and Grian doesn’t think this is how things are supposed to go. It’s not the first time he’s had this thought, and he’s sure it won’t be the last (provided they both survive this, that is). “You really do worry too much.”

“One of us has to while you’re off gallivanting around without a shirt on,” Grian grumbles while reaching for the edge of Scar’s cloak. He holds onto it, fingers digging into the fabric.

Scar lifts a playful brow at Grian’s comment, “Does that mean I look good while valligaggling?”

Grian snorts, the action laced with too much affection. “That’s not even a word, Scar,” he replies with a little laugh, one that makes Scar’s grin widen.

“It’s close enough,” the man hums in answer, their faces moving closer. His hand drops to Grian’s elbow, the other drawing him in closer by the waist. Red eyes flutter shut as his breath ghosts over Grian’s lips. “And it made you laugh.”

“Your priorities are seriously mixed up,” Grian’s voice is hardly above a whisper as watches as Scar draws in closer.

Their lips meet seconds later, chapped and warm. Grian stares at Scar’s face, the way the creases in his forehead smooth over and relax. He looks so content, a funny feeling to express when the powder keg is seconds from exploding.

It hardly takes any time at all for Scar to deepen the kiss, raising his hand from Grian’s elbow to hold the edge of his jaw. His thumb settles too close to Grian’s throat, yet not an ounce of fear runs through him. His eyes shut as he presses his lips back against Scar’s, a bit more pressure than the other applies. He catches Scar’s wrist in his hand, and his grip is a little tight at first (too tight for a green name). He has to remind himself to loosen his hand, but Scar never gives a reaction.

He simply angles Grian’s chin up slightly, hand shifting to cup his cheek. His fingers tangle in his hair, brushing against his ear.

It’s kind of a shame they’re blowing up the desert. He wouldn’t mind sharing more kisses with Scar out in the open chilly air like this.

Scar kisses him like he’s something fragile, something precious. He kisses him like he’s afraid of breaking him, and really it’s laughable how gentle he is with Grian. His eyes say he shouldn’t be.

(Ironic then, that Grian is wearing more red than him.)

It’s with a soft sigh that Scar pulls back, setting their foreheads against one another. So easily, so fluidly, he holds Grian’s face in both of his hands, one of his thumbs brushing along his cheek. There’s a fond smile on his face, and Grian feels a little dazed by the sight.

“Gri,” Scar says quietly, a moment shared for only the two of them, “I need you to know, I—”

Some kind of alarm rings in Grian’s head, and he knows he cannot let Scar finish that sentence. Panic runs down his spine like electricity, zapping him. He sets his hands on Scar’s front, gently pushing back as he turns his head away.

“H-Haha, we’ve wasted enough time, haven’t we?” he questions, some kind of desperate attempt to change the conversation. “We have a war to prepare for, remember?”

He doesn’t watch Scar’s face as he turns away, unable to face it. He turns his back to Scar, wings twitching behind him. Grian purposefully looks down at the sand before him, reminding himself of what he’s meant to be doing. “We, uh, have much to do still,” he says, trying to focus on anything but Scar. “I mean, unless you want me to lose my first life!”

Grian goes to say more, but two hands land on his shoulders, stopping him. He jumps just slightly, startled. Yet it doesn’t last long as he feels Scar’s warmth against his back. “…Scar,” he mumbles.

Arms wrap around him proper, holding him close. He feels Scar bury his face in his hair as the smell of lilacs and poppies flood his senses. “Just a little longer, okay?” the red name murmurs so softly.

Let me hold you for a little longer.

Stay with me for a little longer.

Pretend this’ll last for a little longer.

How selfish, Scar is. Grian looks down at the sand below, its mocking grains. He grabs hold of Scar, keeping him right where he is. “…I’m not going to die, Scar.”

“Promise me.” Scar’s arms tighten around him, giving away how much he needs Grian to stay alive. How much he treasures Grian, both his partnership and company.

Grian squeezes him. He supposes he’s a little selfish as well. “…I promise.”

Scar lets out a shaky breath, burying his face further into Grian’s hair.

They don’t move for a little while. A gentle red name and a green name clothed in far too much crimson. Together they stand, selfishly.

[reiderwriter]

Okay, I just wanted to start off and say I love your stories. They're always so good. You've reblogged one of my stories a while, and I actually squealed and scared the crap out of my friend. But yeah, I live you and your stories 💖💖💖

So I read your one story of Spencer being a soon-to-be dad, and I really like the idea of seeing Spencer and reader as actual parents just feeling the emotions. I thought something based around their daughter (because Spencer's a girl dad) hitting a milestone like walking, talking, or something even bigger like the first day of school. I don't know if that makes sense, but either way, I hope you like it!

A/N: I love the idea of new-dad Spencer. He deserves a loving family and a baby so much 😭 I combined this request with one of the prompts for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic challenge which you can find the details for here! ❤️

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Masterlist

You never thought leaving to go for a spa day would be one of the hardest things you'd have to do in your life, but here you were. 

In the ten months since you'd given birth to your daughter, you'd been stressed, lacking in sleep, leaking fluids from places that you forgot could have fluids leak from, and you'd been totally, irreversibly, head over heels in love. 

Both with the tiny little gremlin you'd given birth to, and with the man that you watched become a father. 

Spencer Reid was a great dad. 

He'd had a fair amount of anxiety leading up to the birth, worrying about every detail, talking to geneticists, driving you to and from each check up or attending via video call if he was on a case. After she was born, he helped out as best he could. 

For a man who had delivered a baby before and was absolutely great with his teammates' kids, he couldn't hold her for the first week without an intense look of panic crossing his features.

“Y/N, what happens if I drop her?” 

“Y/N, she sneezed. What if I got her sick?”

“Y/N, she fell asleep, I can't move.” 

A genius with an IQ of 187 slashed to 60 in front of a pretty girl. His tiny daughter had him thrown through a loop he got seriously stuck in. 

He was still helpful, and he got used to all his new duties and tasks within a week, but watching those cute clueless expressions pass over his face now and then endeared you to him that much more. 

He knew everything, but he had to learn this right there with you. 

So yes, leaving for a relaxing spa visit was hard. 

Spencer had been on a case for the last four days, his first since your daughter had arrived and the official end to his paternity leave. You'd been happy to see him get back to it, in all honesty. Spencer’s job, his research, and his work at the FBI were like muscles he needed to stretch. It wasn't that he couldn't live without them, but there would always be a part of him that felt stiff or unsure of himself without the possibilities of a case to unravel or some theorizing to do. 

You were slightly panicked at the thought of being alone with your daughter for four days, but you managed. With a phone call home every single night where he asked you about every single thing your little bundle of joy had done outside of his watchful gaze. 

Now, it was your turn. 

Spencer had insisted on it upon returning from his case. He got four nights of relative peace after 20 months of waking up with the baby, sleeping with the baby, napping when the baby napped, carrying the baby around when it became evident that she was desperately scared of not being the center of attention. 

He came back with a spring in his step, and the deep desire to see you get a solid night's rest the way he'd been able to. 

You'd tried shooting him down, multiple times, to no reward. 

“Spencer, you didn't exactly just up and go off gallivanting. You were working.”

“I was working, and I still got more rest than you. I really needed that sleep and time away, Y/N, and I think you do, too. Now, please, go away,” he'd pulled you into his arms when you'd put the baby down that night to reveal his brilliant plans. 

“Just for the night. Go away for a lovely overnight break. Not indefinitely. I love you.” His panicked confession at the end sent you into giggles, that with a few well times kisses had you reluctantly agreeing to the girls trip he'd planned you. 

The BAU girls had been roped into accompanying you on the trip, which honestly meant that he'd be getting status updates any time he asked for one. 

JJ, Penelope, Emily, and Tara were all going to strong arm you into the car if need be to carry you off to the nearest 5(ish) star Hotel and Spa. 

And that's exactly what happened. 

The man had even packed the bag for you to send you off, had made you breakfast in bed and had run to every sound your daughter had made from dusk until dawn so you didn't have to lift a finger. 

“Y/N, you're resting today.”

“But-” 

“No. No buts. Just rest.”

“At least let me hold her for a second to say goodbye.” He blinked at you for a few seconds before his stubbornly helpful face turned softer, and he quickly handed your daughter back for a small cuddle. 

With a lingering hug, you told your daughter - who absolutely did not care one bit that you would be wandering out of the house soon enough - that you'd be back in the morning, kissed your husband on the lips, and were swiftly kidnapped by JJ and Emily. 

To your credit, you lasted two whole hours before breaking down. 

The drive to the hotel was quick and peaceful, and it felt nice to breathe in the fresh air without having to also check for various baby smells. 

You checked in fast, and all gathered in the in-hotel restaurant for brunch and mimosas, and then it hit you. Another mother walked in with a stroller, and you were blubbering. 

Your bottom lip wobbled, and the rest of the world ceased to exist as you gave in to the emotions. 

You knew, of course, that you were going to have to leave your daughter at some point. It wasn't healthy for either of you to have attachment issues, and you didn't want to hinder your daughters development by sticking too close - but that didn't mean you didn't miss her. 

JJ noticed your watery eyes first. “Oh no, I know that look,” she smiled over her drink, taking a sip. 

“What? What look?” You said, but giving yourself massively away with a good sniff and watery blink. 

“You lasted longer than I did. I couldn't go half an hour without turning my car around and heading back to Henry, and I swear it was only worse with Michael.” 

You giggled a bit as you wiped your eyes. 

“Do you think… do you think we could go back? Just for a little bit. I just want to check on them.”

The women passed a look between them and then nodded back at you, obviously having expected this. 

“Actually, we didn't book any spa treatments until the afternoon. We had a feeling something like this would happen,” Tara smiled at you, and you snorted in surprise as you dabbed away your tears with a handkerchief. 

“We are laying some ground rules though,” Emily said, a stern tone fighting the playful smile on her face. 

“We can peak through a window, but we're not going in. And we're not going to call ahead and let Spencer know. The kid needs to know you feel confident in his parenting skills, and if he's just got the baby settled and you come back in, it won't be easy to calm her down again.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, but you were already halfway to the car by the time you could finish the sentence. 

The girls pulled up a block away and let you walk calmly back to your front door. 

You'd since agreed to a time limit and not to unlock the door. Emily went ahead to scope out the house, communicating with JJ on the phone who was holding your hand to stop you from wringing them. 

You'd never been a part of the BAU, but somehow you felt like a team member on a case getting ready to stake out a target. 

When Emily gave you the signal, the rest of the girls gave you space, and you ducked down to peer into your ground floor window. 

Spencer was on his stomach with your daughter, and they were having what seemed like a riveting conversation. 

“And so then I obviously got tongue-tied. Like I said, Daddy isn't good at talking to people, let alone beautiful women like Mommy.” 

“Be be be da.”

“Exactly. I really embarrassed myself, actually. I went up to her and said ‘do you have a number?’ and she was so confused.”

“Ba!” 

“Yeah, she sounded like that, too. I kept talking more and more, and she couldn't understand what I meant. She thought I was asking about her age at one point. I was just getting redder and redder, and then she grabbed my hand and led me to a seat at the back of the bookshop because she thought I was sick.”

He smiled down at the infant again, still babbling to herself.

“I was sick, of course, but it was just love sickness. I still am.” 

The tears that you'd delicately wiped away earlier came back hot and heavy now as you resisted the urge to crawl through the window to your precious family. 

Spencer was telling your daughter the story of how he first asked you out, near disastrously, and from the sounds of it, he wasn't done telling stories. 

“I really love your Mommy, you know. She's wonderful.”

“Mmmm,”

“See, you think so too. Everyone thinks so.” 

“Mmmma” 

“Yes, your Mama. You’re just like her, everyone loves you, too.” 

“Mama.”

You heard Spencer's breath hitch as you closed a hand over your mouth to stop a shocked squeal from coming out. 

“T-That's right. Mama. One more time, say mama.”

“Mama,” the little baby squealed in delight, reacting to her fathers utter joy. 

“You're speaking. One more time, Mama.”

“Mama!” 

“Your mama is going to be so mad,” Spencer whispered, grabbing his daughter up in one more careful hug and kissing her face as she giggled delightfully. “We need to keep this a secret. Tomorrow, you'll have you say your first word in front of her, and we'll both act surprised, okay? Promise?”

The gargle he got in response was enough to have your shoulders shaking as the others extricated you from your own front lawn. 

Back in the car, you broke down into giggles and tears, shoulders rising and falling in sobs and laughter intermittently. 

“Is this a total psychotic break or just a symptom of seeing Spencer as a dad?” Penelope asked, nudging you with her elbow as you tried to regain your composure.

“It's… whew, it's okay. We can go back now.” 

“You sure?” JJ asked from the driver's seat, and you nodded once again.

“Yeah. I'm fine now. I'm really good.” 

The women all offered you similar smiles as you drove away, blissful and content. 

[spnexploration]

Comments

Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.

This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.

Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”

The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.

Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.

I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.

---

📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house

A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.

📱 You ok?

I sighed. Finally, he asks.

📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later

I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.

I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.

I walked.

---

I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just  that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.

And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.

 Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.

Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.

Fuck them.

---

“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.

“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.

“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.

“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”

“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.

“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.

“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”

He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.

I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.

“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.

“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”

“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”

“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”

“Didn’t you hear Dean?”

“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”

“No, he laid right into the guy.”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”

“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”

I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.

Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.

“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.

“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”

“I don’t remember electing you.”

“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”

“I’m not moping!”

“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”

I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.

The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.

---

Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”

“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”

I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.

“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”

---

Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”

I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.

“What time is it?”

 “Time to work the case.”

I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”

“No, come on, back on the horse.”

“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”

“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.

“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.

I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.

Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.

“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”

“Thanks.”

“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”

I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.

“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”

“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.

He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”

“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.

“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”

I laughed mirthlessly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”

“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”

“That’s not true.”

“Well, they’re all thin at least.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”

“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.

“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”

“Let me guess, beautiful?”

“Absolutely.”

“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”

I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.

“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”

His face came even closer, watching my reactions.

“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.

“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”

He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”

My hands slackened.

He edged a tiny bit forward.

His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

Was this even real?

How was this happening?

His hand came up to cup my cheek.

I leant forward.

The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the  exploration of his tongue and mine.

A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.

“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”

.

.

.

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[s1ater]

don’t tell.

pairings. mattheo riddle x fem!reader

about. mattheo can’t help but want his best mates girl and couldn’t be more thrilled when he finds out the attraction goes both ways

warnings. foul language, smut; degradation, creampie, cheating

ricky rocks. 🪺 it kills me that this story has a community label

the one thing mattheo couldn’t have in his life, he never thought it’d be a girl.

girls came easy, but they were never anything that came to mind too much; he had other things to worry about, things to do.

but he’d never thought that that girl, the girl he wanted, would be one of his best friends girl.

none of his friends were ever loyal, none of them except theo. he was a sucker for those long term relationships because the type of girls who were only looking for one night stands and hook ups made him annoyed and had more issues than he could deal with, it was too bad he got stuck with one exactly like that.

you loved theo, more than anyone, but old habits died hard. especially with all of theo’s friends breathing down your neck, begging for a taste.

but you never gave in, not until mattheo.

when you first met him, he didn’t say a word to you. you weren’t even aware of him half the time, his presence was forgettable till your eyes always seemed to find his and his body always seemed to be pressed up against yours in your dreams.

it soon became very obvious who you wanted and he knew it when he was no longer the one initiating the starring—giving him the go ahead to push your buttons.

“i’ll fuck you straight.”

“yeah, you wish riddle,” you starred back at him with a challenging look, “good luck on getting the chance.”

he scoffed, “you act like you’re so loyal.”

you immediately frowned in annoyance, “and you act like you’re all that.”

he smiled, leaning over to your level, “because i am.”

you rolled your eyes, looking him up and down with what looked like disgust, “hop off your throne, riddle. i love my boyfriend.”

“it sure doesn’t seem like it when you’re looking at me,” he tipped his head slightly, a fake expression of thought coming over his face, “you better work on that, y/n, otherwise i’m not going to be the only one who notices.”

he walked away, but some part of you wished he hadn’t and that the looks you two shared, would be caught on to, so you could just get it over with and finally get to fuck him.

that came sooner rather than later—but not how you thought. the opportunity was practically handed to the two of you when half the boys were out for gallivanting down in the forbidden forest and theo had told you to wait for him in the common room.

it was too bad he was running late.

“why don’t you sit down?” mattheo’s stare was narrowing and studying as he motioned you to sit in the big black leather chair across from him. “you’ve got a while longer to wait.”

you scoffed, “alright, but i’m sure theo-“

“who cares about theodore, he’s probably fucking around with a blonde from ravenclaw, anyway.”

the sentence caught you off guard and made you slightly pause as you sat down. you sure he was just messing with you, but with the right motivation and pressure, theo could get convinced into anything—maybe even fucking around with a blonde ravenclaw.

“he wouldn’t do that.”

“right, because you’re the cheater in the relationship.”

you scowled at him, but your cheeks turned hot at the truth of his words. he knew you well for some reason. he knew you weren’t honest—never in any relationship had you ever been in—and he knew you were also easily pressured into things.

“why don’t you show me something,” he nodded toward you, “don’t try to hide your true colors now that we’re alone.”

“piss off.”

“now don’t he so harsh.”

you rolled your eyes, thinking, thinking how wrong this was but still stood up from your seat across from him, and you still slowly glided toward him while your fingers grasped the top buttons of your pure white blouse, “don’t tell.”

“no promises,” he grinned, sipping from the bottle of booze he held as you were now in front of him, slowly leaning before him still teasing the unbuttoning of your shirt.

“mattheo,” you whined, but still continuing with your actions, giving him a peak of your black laced bra. “you’re not being nice.”

he pulled you to his lap roughly, causing you to gasp as you were now straddling him, “why would i?” his fingers reached where yours were, helping you unbutton the material of your shirt, “you’re so damn teasing all the time.”

you rocked your hips forward, pouting at his words, “shame.” mattheo’s breath became uneven for the slightest second, his eyes dragging up to yours at the feeling of your heat pressing onto his cock.

“you’re a fucking, cunt,” he scoffed, shaking his head with a slight smirk on his face. “don’t act like you don’t want this as much as i do.”

“sure, mattheo,” you tauntingly smiled, rocking back and forth again before pressing your lips against his. he immediately kissed back, his hands slowly pulling the blouse from your arms.

he smelled good and he felt good—you felt you could barely get enough despite how close he was with his arms wrapped around you now, pulling you closer and closer till his chest was pressed against yours.

he was making you desperate, real desperate with his taunting that you could barely keep up the returning taunting facade.

“let me cum in your mouth, yeah?” he pulled away and was already unbuckling his belt from beneath you, cuing you to get off the chair and to your hands and knees as he stood, “be a good girl, suck me off, y/n.”

you nodded slowly, deciding whether if this was really okay… but you suddenly didn’t care, especially when your mouth started watering the moment his cock sprung from his boxers, thick and waiting for you.

“ready, love,” he didn’t wait for your words and he barely waited for you; his hips meeting your mouth, eager, “fuck,” you eased your mouth down his length, eyes already watering even before the tip of his cock touched the back of your throat.

“such a fucking good girl,” he grunted, his hand twirling a make shift pony tail of your hair while his head tipped back, his mind filling of bliss with each suck you took. “you love my cock, don’t you?”

he thrusted into your mouth, face fucking you, helping you induce pleasure as you tried to keep up by running and swirling your tongue along his length.

you couldn’t even think to answer, or hum, or anything. you were enjoying it too much and couldn’t help let your mind travel already to fast to the thought of him fucking you.

you could tell he wanted to just by how much enjoyment he was getting from this.

and he pulled out abruptly, leaving spit and precum running down your chin with teary eyes, “let me cum inside you, show theo who really owns your body.”

you let him lay you down against the cold floor, his body hovering over yours as he undone his dress shirt before pulling it off fast with eager fingers, that watched you with dark eyes.

you watched anxiously, your eyes eating every inch of his body and the scars that decorated his tan skin. your chest heaved up and down, your heart pounding, underestimating what he might do with the stare he had.

he gripped his cock, stroking it roughly before laying on your body fully, hiking up your skirt and pushing your parties to the side. he kissed you softly before pushing into you, prompting a sharp whine to resonate from your lips, “take it.”

your hands gripped his shoulders as he slowly inched into you before harshly shoving his full length into your cunt, immediately catching into your sweet spot. a high moan released into the air as your stomach rumbled with pleasure and pain to your walls from just barely getting used to the thickness of his cock.

“fucking whore,” he continued to fuck into you as his mouth began to speak nasty words that made your stomach twist in pleasure, whimpering as he spoke. “you love your boyfriend’s best mate using you like a doll?”

you gasped as his hand caught your face, gripping it harshly, “of course you do,” he smiled devilishly before, slapping the side of your hip, “get on your knees.”

you whimpered as you did so, his hands immediately gripping your hips and continuing to fuck you stupid the moment he pushed into you again. his finger tips pained you as he pressed hard enough to leave bruises.

“i want him to know who fucked you this good,” his hand grasped your throat, pulling you closer to his body as his mouth hovered over your ear before sucking and biting on your neck. “i want him to see what a dirty little whore you are, taking me without denial.”

“mattheo, please,” you whined, grabbing his hand that lied on your hip, “please don’t.”

“don’t what, huh?”

“please don’t leave marks.”

you could feel his cock twitch to the whine of your voice, a grunt resonating from his mouth. he didn’t say a word to reply but began to savor the few minutes left of his high, roughly pumping in and out of you as you moaned—soon coming upon your own.

“who fucks you better, huh?” he leaned back near your face, “me or him, tell me?“

“you mattheo,” you stuttered, feeling your vision go blurry and your limbs grow numb the moment his high came undone and pushed cum deep into your cunt, leaving you marked.

“that’s what i thought.”

@sophiekay20 @aliyahsutherland @multifandom-obsessed @thomaslefteyebrow @transias @sambucky8 @heyitsmeimdead @padf00ts-l0ver @thehuntress09 @afidiofobia @i-love-scott-mccall @greengarsstuff @demigirl-with-problems @sunsetcurve-95

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[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid. Pt. 5! Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu brings you in as one of her maids, at least, that's what you thought she brought you to the castle for.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut.

Notes: Part 5! I had to split part 4 into two because it was getting WAY too long so here ya go💕 I wasn't planning on a certain someone showing up this early but it just worked as I was typing out my stream of consciousness. The plot is getting thiccccc

Click here for the rest of the series

The next morning you wake up and for the first time, Alcina is still in bed with you. She had gotten up at some point and put on a black nightgown, but you wake up the same way you fell asleep, tucked into her with her arm wrapped around you. She feels you stir and looks down at you. You look up at her, her reading glasses perched on the bridge of her nose with a book in her hand.

"Good morning draga." She says.

"Good morning Mis- Alcina." You say sleepily.

"How did you sleep my pet?"

"Really well, how did you sleep?"

"Well, I require very little sleep, so for the 30-45 minutes I was asleep was wonderful."

"What did you do the rest of the night?" You're pretty sure you knew Alcina and the girls were vampires of some sort, or at least not human, but there was still so much about them that was a mystery.

"Well I got up and worked for a few hours, then I had some rare free time so I came back here and continued reading my book."

You smile at her and she pulls you into her.

"I'll have Zina bring you up breakfast this morning."

"She doesn't have to, I can eat in the kitchen, I feel so bad that she's been doing so much extra work just for me." Alcina side-eyes you.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea my pet, I have, concerns, about the other maidens."

You're disappointed, but nod your head. She's right to be concerned, to be fair you are too, but you're tired of having people waiting on you hand and foot because you're trying to avoid someone.

"I understand Alcina."

She sighs and you look up at her.

"You may go down to the kitchen for breakfast, but you must bring it up here and eat in my chambers. Understand?"

"Yes, thank you Alcina." You say with a smile.

"Before you go, help me get dressed."

She closes her book and tosses her covers off of her and gets out of bed. You follow suit and go to her wardrobe to grab a dress.

"Do you want me to pick anything in particular?" You ask her.

"Just my usual attire is fine dear." She says as she removes her nightgown, revealing a new lacy bra and underwear set.

You grab her dress and bring it to her. She steps into it and slides her arms into the sleeves. She sits on her vanity bench so you can button it.

She touches up her lipstick and slides her gloves on.

"There's a new uniform on the chair over there for you." She says, nodding to one of the chairs in the corner of the room.

You walk over and put your new uniform on and turn back to Alcina who is adjusting her hat on her head.

"Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"That's all, you can head down to the kitchen. Remember, straight back up here with your tray, no gallivanting around, yes?"

"I promise I'll come right back here, no detours." You say with a smile.

"Good girl. Go on." She says, nodding towards the door.

You make your way downstairs and head towards the kitchen. You see Zina just outside the kitchen, surprised to see you.

"Y/n, I was just about to prepare a tray to bring up to you."

"Thank you Zina, but I figured I'd come down and grab breakfast myself and bring it up. I hate that I've been making so much extra work for you."

Zina looks at you a little concerned.

"Does she-"

"Oh, yes, she gave me permission to get breakfast and bring it back up to her chambers."

Her face relaxes into a smile.

"Very well then, enjoy."

You walk into the kitchen and you immediately feel eyes on you. You try your best to ignore them as you wait in line for your meal. Once you get breakfast you grab your tray and make your way back across the kitchen to Alcina's chambers.

All is fine until you feel someone shove you from behind, as you're shoved you see a foot stick out and trip you, your tray goes flying and so do you. You try to brace yourself for the fall but you smack your head into one of the benches at the table and roll onto the floor. You may have blacked out for a moment but you sit up as fast as you can, your head spinning and in pain. You feel your head and look at your hand and see blood, you look up and see Stefana standing over you with an evil smile across her face. You look down and see that she has a knife in her hand, you panic and try to back away from her as you're on the floor, afraid if you turn your back she's just going to kill you.

As Stefana takes a step forward, a loud "BAM" echoes through the kitchen startling everyone, including you. You turn your head to look and see that the kitchen door has been knocked off of it's hinges, a familiar black hat makes its way through the door frame as Alcina steps into the kitchen. She stands up straight and looks at Stefana, the look in her eyes is terrifying, she looks down at you on the floor and her eyes soften with concern, in an instant the rage is back as she walks towards the two of you, more than half of the maids run out of the kitchen through the other door.

You scramble to your feet and step back towards Alcina. Stefana drops the knife, you're not sure if she even realized she did to be honest.

"YOU." She yells, the walls of the kitchen shake. "You disrespectful, insolent worm."

Alcina extends her claws, and slowly walks towards her, she walks past you and gently pushes you behind her.

"What did I tell you last time? If you so even look at her again I will slice you to ribbons. You were properly warned yet you still did not listen." Her tone is cold and angry. "I told you you would regret it."

Stefana stands there, terrified, but also angry.

"Alci-" She begins to say.

"SILENCE." Alcina yells. "I never gave you permission to call me by that name, a name you only learned after prying through my personal belongings! How dare you try and use stolen information to save yourself."

"I deserved to know!" Stefana tells back.

"You deserve nothing." Alcina hisses.

"I love you! You told me you loved me and you threw me aside like I was nothing to you!" She yells through tears.

Alcina laughs out loud, her laughter fills you with terror. "Make no mistake little girl," she growls as she gets closer to her. "I never spoke those words to you. You were nothing to me, and you still are nothing to me. All you are is a nuisance, a disobedient, disrespectful wench and I am THROUGH with giving you repeated warnings to behave yourself."

Alcina slowly pulls her arm back, getting ready to slash Stefana into pieces.

"NO!" You yell, you have no idea what came over you, but you couldn't watch Alcina kill her in front of you, not like this. You run up behind Alcina and grab her wrist before she slashes forward.

Alcina stops and slowly looks down at you, she has an anger in her eyes you never knew was possible for someone to have, even if they weren't human.

"Please, don't, please." You beg. Your entire body is trembling, you didn't even realize you were crying.

She glares into your eyes as your hands tremble around her large wrist, but you don't break eye contact. The anger in her eyes softens, not much, but you notice the slight shift. She growls at you and aggressively retracts her claws, you slowly drop your hands and she breaks the eye contact and looks towards Stefana. She takes another step closing the distance between the two of them.

She raises her hand to her face and you wince, she drags her finger down Stefana's cheek.

"Today is certainly your lucky day." She says sweetly, but almost terrifyingly. When her finger reaches her jaw, Alcina grabs Stefana by the throat and lifts her up to her eye level. "You better be grateful for her kindness because if I had it my way you would be slashed to pieces on this floor right now." She brings Stefana closer to her face. "If you so much as breathe in her direction, it will be the very last breath you take. Next time I will not let her stop me from tearing you to shreds. Do you understand?"

Stefana tries to respond but can't because of the pressure around her throat. Alcina drops her and she hits the ground, hard.

"Now get out of my sight." She growls.

Stefana looks at her for a moment as she gasps for air and another maid comes over and helps her to her feet, guiding her out of the kitchen.

"Let me make one thing very clear to all of you." Alcina says to the maids left in the kitchen. "If anyone lays as much as a finger on her, it will be the last thing you do. Am I clear?" She says angerly.

You hear the maids quietly respond with "yes Lady" and "yes Mistress".

She slowly turns to you and stares at you.

"And you," you swallow hard, worried that you just marked yourself for death. "That was very bold, but very stupid. Do not ever do that again."

"I won't Mistress." You say with a shaking voice.

She kneels down in front of you and brings her knuckle under your chin and lifts your head, she inspects the gash on your head from hitting it on the bench.

"Oh Mother Miranda," she says under her breath. "I think you may need stitches. Come, I'm taking you to the infirmary." She grabs your hand and leads you out of the kitchen to the infirmary.

The stitches pinch a little, but the pain wasn't bad at all, especially compared to the pain you feel when Alcina breaks your skin when she feeds.

"Okay, all finished." The doctor says, cutting the sutures. "You only needed three stitches, the cut wasn't too deep and shouldn't leave much of a scar if you take care of it. You also have a slight concussion, but that should resolve itself in a few days."

"Thank you." You say quietly.

"Is there anything else you need my Lady?" She asks turning to Alcina.

"No, thank you doctor."

The doctor nods her head and leaves the room. You keep your eyes on the floor, not wanting to break the uncomfortable silence. Alcina's anger had subsided, but she still wasn't happy. You feel her eyes on you and you turn and slowly meet them, you feel like a child that's about to be scolded by their mother.

"How are you feeling?" She calmly asks.

"I'm okay." You say quietly.

She brings her knuckle under your chin and lifts your face again, inspecting the stitched up wound.

"Why on earth would you want to me to spare her life?" She says softly, almost like she's talking to herself. "She would have ended yours right then and there with no hesitation." You watch her golden eyes as they scan your stitches, she slowly turns your head back and fourth to examine it from every angle. "Yet, you begged me to spare hers." She drops her hand and looks you in the eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know, I didn't even realize what I was doing when I did that. I just got so scared and I didn't want to watch her die in front of me, I would have felt so guilty, like her death would have been my fault."

Alcina cocks her head to the side and furrows her brows like she's confused.

"And why would that be your fault?"

"Because I'm the one who replaced her, I'm the one she's angry with, if she died because of something she did to me, I'd feel so guilty."

"Her anger is horribly misplaced, I am the one she should be angry with. I brought you here, I was the one who had her replaced, I would have been the one to kill her, you bear none of the guilt or responsibility for what will frankly be her own demise." Your eyes stay focused on the floor. When you don't respond she puts her finger under your chin and lifts your face towards her. "You don't believe me do you?" She says a little flatly.

"It's not that I don't believe you, logically, yes, none of it would be my fault, but my head and my heart can't seem to accept it."

"If she does anything else, do not try and stop me again. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Come, I'm bringing you back to my chambers. I am going to have Zina pack your things from your room in the maids quarters." She says as she grabs your hand and goes to leave the infirmary.

"Wait, why?" You ask as you stop moving.

Alcina stops and turns towards you.

"After that incident I can't trust that you will remain safe in the maids quarters. I am moving you into the room next to mine so I can keep a close eye on you. From now on, unless you are in my chambers or my study, you will not leave my side. You will go where I go and have all of your meals with us in the dining hall. On the rare occasions where I cannot bring you along with me you are to stay with the girls or in one of the designated rooms. Understood?"

You can't help but smile up at her, you shake your head yes accompanied by an "mhm."

She leads you to her chambers and lifts you into her bed. You crawl under the covers and hear a knock at the door.

"Mother?" You hear Bela on the other side of the door.

"Come in." She says and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Mother Miranda is-" Bela looks over and sees your stitches. "WHAT HAPPENED?" She says running over to you. Your head throbs when she yells. Although your concussion was a minor one, it still left you sensitive to bright lights and loud noises.

Out of the three girls Bela is probably the one you're least closest with, seeing her reaction to your injury warmed your heart.

"There was an incident in the kitchen with another maid, it's been handled."

"Is she dead?" Bela asks, angrier than you expected.

"No, but she has been dealt with. Now what about-"

Two swarms of flies appear in the room and Daniela and Cassandra appear.

"What happened?" Daniela asks.

"We heard Bela yell." Cassandra says.

They look over at you and see your stitches at the same time.

"HOW DID YOU GET THAT!?" Daniela yells, your head throbs more when she yells and you wince at the pain.

"Who do I have to kill?" Cassandra says with a darkness in her voice you've never heard before, it honestly scares you a little.

They run over to the bed next to Bela.

"Girls." Alcina says. "Y/n is okay, as I was telling Bela, there was an incident with one of the other maids but it's been handed."

"Why isn't she dead?!" Bela says.

"SHE'S STILL ALIVE?" Daniela and Cassandra yell in unison. You wince again from the sound.

"Girls, volume." Alcina says to the three of them, she looks over at you. "Would you like to tell them why the maid in question isn't currently being made into a fresh bottle of my wine?"

The three girls look at you, both mad and confused.

"Girls, I'm okay, really. Just a few stitches, minor concussion, I'll be fine."

"That doesn't explain why she's still breathing!" Cassandra says.

"Al- your mo- Mistress," You stumble over your words as your head pounds from the concussion. You bring your hands to your face and rub your eyes as your head throbs. "Sorry," You say as you bring your hands down. "I stopped her."

"WHY?!" The three yell.

You wince again, the throbbing in your head increases.

"Girls, she has a concussion, will you please be quiet." Alcina hisses at them as they hang their heads. She gets up and closes the curtains, darkening the room. "Is that better?" She asks, turning towards you.

The darkness helps to ease the pain in your head a little. "Yes, thank you." The three girls stare at you, demanding an answer. "I don't know-"

"Yes you do." Alcina says flatly as she sits back down on the edge of the bed.

The girls look towards Alcina and back to you.

"I- I didn't even know what I was doing until I did it, but I didn't want to see her die in front of me, so I just grabbed her wrist and stopped her from slashing the maid to pieces."

The girls' eyes widen as they look at you.

"And you didn't kill her?" Cassandra asks her mom, gesturing to you.

"No, I did not." Alcina says.

"Woah." Daniela says, staring at you.

"Mom must really like you." Bela says quietly.

Alcina gives her a low growl.

"She's not wrong." Cassandra says to Alcina. "The last time a maid tried to stop you, you gutted her and turned her into a scarecrow as a warning to the rest of them. She's still the only maid out there!"

You swallow hard and watch as Alcina looks at Cassandra.

"Yes, I remember, thank you for the history lesson." She says sarcastically.

"Well I'm happy you didn't kill her." Daniela says, looking up at her mother. "I like y/n, I she's my favorite!"

Alcina smiles and places her hand on Daniela's head, which Daniela nuzzles into.

"So you're just gonna let that maid live?" Bela asks Alcina.

"For now, yes. But if she steps even a centimeter out of place she's finished."

"Can I follow her around so I can kill her the second she messes up?" Cassandra asks eagerly.

"Absolutely not. I will take care of her, I don't want any of you laying a finger or a fly on her, understand?"

"Yes mom." They reply in unison.

"Now, Bela, what were you saying about Mother Miranda?"

"Oh, she needs the lab and some maids to test on."

Alcina pinches the bridge of her nose and furrows her brows.

"I can not afford to keep loosing maids, the village will riot if I take any more girls." She says under her breath and drops her hand.

"We can always give her the one who hurt y/n!" Cassandra says with a devilish smile.

"No, she won't do. I will come up with some solution, did she say when she was coming?" Alcina asks Bela.

"She said she would be here soon."

"Did she say what she needed the lab for?"

"New cadou mutations I think."

"Of course." Alcina says with a sigh. "Alright, thank you girls, you may go. Please try and keep it down."

"Yes mother." They say as they disappear in a swarm.

Alcina turns to you, noticing the confused look on your face.

"You have a lab? Where you test on maids? And what's a cadou?"

"There are many things that go on in this castle that you need not worry about draga, including anything that happens in the dungeon. I must go prepare for Mother Miranda, under no circumstances are you to leave this room. I will make sure your meals are delivered to you. You are to rest until you are fully recovered, understand?"

"Yes."

She drags her finger along your cheek and studies your face for a moment. She drops her hand and stands.

"I must be off, if you need anything before I return have one of the girls or Zina assist you."

"I will." You look up into her eyes as she towers over you. "Thank you for saving me." You say quietly.

"No need to thank me my pet." she cups her hand under your face. She goes to speak but stops herself and purses her lips. You gently smile at her and she smiles back at you and drops her hand.

She opens the door and you see her stop.

"Oh, Mother Miranda, I wasn't expecting you so soon." Alcina says.

"I don't understand why, I did tell your daughter I would be arriving soon." You hear an unamused voice outside of the door but can't see her with Alcinas dress blocking your view. "What do you have in here?" The woman asks.

"Oh, it's nothing im-"

She pushes past Alcina and walks into the room. You see a woman dressed in all black, wearing a gold mask with a black feathered hood on her head. Her mask nearly resembling a birds beak, the hood attached to a floor length robe, also covered in black feathers. She removes the hood revealing her blond hair, slicked back and tucked into her robe.

"And what do we have here?" She says, almost amused.

"Mother Miranda, this is my new handmaiden, y/n."

Alcina's demeanor has completely shifted since she opened the door, usually she commands every room she walks into. As soon as Mother Miranda entered, her usual large presence seems to have shrunk. You're not sure what it exactly is, if Alcina is being submissive, if she just very, very highly respects her, of if she fears her, or if it's a combination of all of the above, but she's not her usual self.

"Your handmaiden resting in your chambers?" Mother Miranda says, as if she's mocking Alcina.

Your eyes shift to Alcina, you can almost see a desperation in her eyes, like a child looking for praise and acceptance from their neglectful parent. It's something you've never witnessed with Alcina before, you're not sure how you feel about it, but you gut doesn't have a good feeling.

"Yes, she had an altercation with another one of the maids leaving her injured. For her own safety I am having her stay in my chambers until I can make other arrangements."

"I can see," Mother Miranda says as she walks up to you and examines you. You notice she has bright yellow eyes, similar to Alcina's. "Such a pretty young thing." She says as she caresses your cheek with her finger.

You meekly smile at her. "Thank you." You say quietly. You look over at Alcina and you see a shift in her eyes as Mother Miranda touches you, her jaw clenches and she bites the inside of her lip, trying to keep her emotions in check. She doesn't look happy.

"And why is this maiden not being utilized in my lab? She may be a fine specimen for the cadou."

You see fear and anger flare in Alcina's eyes as she takes a few steps towards you both. Mother Miranda turns to look at Alcina and she tries her best to hide her emotions.

"With all due respect Mother Miranda, I don't believe she would handle the cadou well. Her small body would crumble, it would kill her, I'm certain of it. She is quite useful, one of my best maids, I have other maidens that would take to the cadou much better than she will, and they will be much more useful in your experiments." Alcina's eyes shift to you and back to Mother Miranda. You get the feeling she's trying to protect you, but you're not sure from what, Mother Miranda, the lab, the cadou, all of it?

"Alcina, are you prioritizing one of your pathetic employees over my work? You do understand the importance of these experiments don't you?"

You never thought you'd see the day where Alcina was intimidated by someone, but Mother Miranda certainly does it.

"No Mother Miranda, not at all." Alcina quickly replies, her tone apologetic. "I absolutely understand the importance of it-"

"Then stop prioritizing a simple maid over my work." Mother Miranda growls.

You see fear in Alcina's eyes, she's not fearful for her, she's fearful for you. You don't know what experiments they're talking about, or even what a cadou is, but from Alcina's reaction to the potential of subjecting you to it, it can't be good.

Mother Miranda turns towards you again and looks at you.

"You may be a wonderful specimen for the cadou," she says, stroking your hair. "Or it may kill you, there's only one true way to find out." She says with an evil smile. You're not sure if she's being serious, or just trying to get a rise out of Alcina, because if she's trying to get a rise out of her, it's certainly working. You see the anger bubbling in Alcina, you've heard of Mother Miranda before and if the rumors are true, her powers are strong, and terrifying.

"If I may," you quietly say, hoping to diffuse the situation. Alcina's eyes snap towards you, before you can gauge her reaction Mother Miranda's bright yellow eyes capture your attention as she stares intensely into your eyes. "Well first, it's an honor to meet you Mother Miranda." Mother Miranda's stare doesn't falter. The tension in the air thickens, you're not sure if you're about to seal your fate to the dungeon or save yourself, but it's too late to back out now. "But, um, I'm not an employee, technically." You break eye contact with Mother Miranda for a moment to look at Alcina, who looks both worried and unsure of what you're doing, your eyes meet Mother Miranda's once again.

"Are you a maiden?" Mother Miranda asks, her voice cold and aggravated.

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you clean the castle?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you wear a maids uniform?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you stay in the maids quarters?"

"I did ma'am."

"Then explain to me, how are you not an employee?" Her bright eyes burning into yours.

"Lady Dimitrescu purchased me." You pause for a moment, slowly and carefully selecting each word that comes out of your mouth. "She paid my uncle in exchange for me. So, although I have the same duties as the employees here, I believe I am technically her property. Right?" You look over at Alcina, you see her relax a bit and she gives you a tiny nod.

"She is correct Mother Miranda," Alcina says as she takes a step forward. "I paid a large sum of money to take possession of her. Aside from knowing she would not react well to the cadou, as other experiments similar to her physique have, I would like to make my investment worthwhile."

"You must be very special then if Alcina was willing to purchase you. Although I'm not surprised, you are very beautiful." She says, stroking you cheek again, she almost sounds like she's flirting with you. You see Alcina stiffen, Mother Miranda is toying with her, trying to provoke her. "Such a shame you'll have a hideous scar, tainting your beautiful face." She says as her finger slides down your jawline and she flicks her finger as she reaches under your chin, her sharp talon grazing your skin.

Your eyes shift to Alcina, her jaw clenched again, anger in her eyes, Mother Miranda turns to face her and she tries her best to soften her eyes. Mother Miranda chuckles.

"Very well Alcina, I will respect your property. I will meet you in the lab." She says as she stands up. In a flash she disappears in a burst of black feathers.

Alcina exhales in relief and closes her eyes, putting her hands over her chest. She takes a breath in to ground herself and regains her composure, when she opens her eyes, it's like she's back to normal. She looks over at you and you're worried about her, relieved, and fucking confused.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Language." She says, scolding you.

"Sorry."

She cups your face in her hand and you close your eyes and lean into her. She bends down and when you open your eyes you realize she's eye level with you.

"You are extremely lucky. Your boldness will no doubt be your downfall." She says looking into your eyes. "Don't push your luck." You nod your head in her hand. She kisses you on your forehead, you're both surprised when you feel her lips on you. Alcina pulls away and stands up and heads towards the door. "Since you are my property, I very well may have to get you a collar, my little pet." She says almost flirtatiously as she smirks, turning towards you before she opens the door.

"If that's what you want, Mistress." You say with a smile.

She cocks an eyebrow at you and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

"Holy shit." You say to yourself as you lay back into the pillows. Not realizing how anxious you really were that entire time, you feel like a huge weight was lifted off of your chest as your anxiety fades away.

"Why was Alcina so afraid for me? What the fuck did Mother Miranda do to have so much power over her? What experiments are they performing on maids in the dungeon or lab or whatever the hell they have in the basement? What the fuck is a cadou? What else happens here that I don't know about?!" Thoughts and questions flood your mind, you were hoping to try and relax and maybe get some sleep but that's definitely not happening anymore.

Alcina leaves her chambers and closes the door behind her. She leans back against the wall and takes a long, shaky breath in and slowly exhales. It's not even noon and she's already had the most stressful day she's had in years, all she wants right now is a cigarette and a drink. The last thing she wants to do right now is work on experiments in the lab with Mother Miranda. She knew letting you go down to the kitchen was a bad idea, but the disappointment in your face crushed her so she gave in without a second thought. She decided to quietly follow you to the kitchen, just to make sure you were safe, and she was grateful she followed her instincts.

She was worried when she heard what sounded like a tray falling, a small thud and a soft yelp, but she was hoping it wasn't you. It wasn't until she heard your heartbeat increase rapidly that she knew you were in trouble. She didn't mean to knock the door off of it's hinges, but you were in danger and she needed to get to you as fast as possible. She was completely blinded by anger, seeing you on the floor, bleeding from your head, Stefana standing over you with a knife in her hand, ready to take her revenge. She was ready to kill Stefana, she was almost excited about it. She was only pulled out of her searing anger when she felt hands around her wrist and seeing you there when she looked down. Bleeding, crying, terrified and trembling like a leaf, she was pissed that you got in her way, but she couldn't stand seeing you like that more than she wanted to kill Stefana.

Then in her chambers, where she thought you were finally safe, Mother Miranda shows up and tries to take you to the lab and experiment on you. This terrified her far more than the threat of Stefana. Normally she would bend to any request Mother Miranda asked of her, she's given Mother Miranda her personal handmaids to experiment on before. Most of them either dying or turning into moroaicas, but she desperately fought to keep you out of the dungeon; even if that meant going against Mother Miranda's wishes, something she's never even considered before. She felt jealousy for the first time in years when Mother Miranda dangled you in front of her like a toy, she knew what she was doing and she did it purposefully. It scared her that she felt so much anger when Mother Miranda stroked your cheek and complimented you, flirted with you; and it angered her even more when she insulted you, saying that your beautiful face was tainted from the wound.

She was terrified to her core when you spoke up, worried that Mother Miranda would deem you disrespectful and just kill you right in front of her. She felt a wave of relief wash over her when you mentioned that you were her property, a point she never even thought to bring up. She never looked at you as her property, but technically, you were, and that might be the only reason you weren't being dragged to the lab right this second.

Before Mother Miranda showed up, she almost said "I will always protect you." but stopped herself. She didn't want to be that vulnerable with someone else, she was worried she was getting too attached, afraid to express the feelings she had deep down she's been trying to suppress. Impulse took control when she kissed you on the forehead before she left, it's been decades since she's shown someone other than her daughters that kind of affection, and it scared her. It's been decades since she's felt so strongly for someone like this, it's something she's actively tried to avoid in all honesty.

"I'm becoming too attached." She thinks to herself. If she's learned anything in her 100 plus years of living, it's how to shove things into a box and put it to the back of her mind to hopefully be forgotten. "I must distance myself." She thinks of how heartbroken you would be and how sad it would make her to see you like that, but she quickly pushes that thought aside. Her fears greater than her guilt, she stands up straight, takes in a deep breath, exhales, and shoves all of her feelings towards you into a box and into the darkest corner of her mind. She has work to do, experiments to work on with Mother Miranda, a business to run, she has no time for these silly feelings. She adjusts her hat, smooths out her dress and makes her way to the lab to continue working towards Mother Miranda's goal.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Back Into Trouble (Winchester!Reader x Winchester Bros PLATONIC)

A sequel to Brother Mine

This fic takes place somewhere near the end of season 1, after episode 19 but before episode 20. In addition, there's a song called Brother Mine that is really sweet and cute especially if put into this context of being Sam and Dean's, but especially Dean's, older brother. "I know that I sit and I worry too much/Especially when you come home such a sight/But I guess what you've got to do, boy, you go ahead and do it/And I sure hope things will be all right"

You may not have enjoyed returning to hunting, but you're damn good at it.

Although it's made even more frustrating when your father actually calls in.

You're not so thrilled about continuing on this... gallivanting cross-country, especially when John is chasing down the demon that killed your mother.

But Sam seems to have come to terms with it, though you honestly feel like that might have more to do with his desire to avenge Jess.

The real problem you see with your little brothers is their inability to let go.

You had all been raised by John in the hunting lifestyle, the family business.

But it's been decades since your mother's death. A horrible thing, that you have had to come to terms with having no real answers for.

And you can understand the desire for vengeance, for a clear-cut answer that will "solve everything."

It won't.

Something you've tried to get your brothers to think about is the future. About what they want out of their lives.

Because you remember how it was, living completely in the moment, day to day, hunt to hunt. And it was Bobby who pointed out that you had potential, that you deserved a life, if not now, then at least the promise of one.

So you convince them to take a rest in Massachusetts after leaving a hunt. Just to take a couple of days for hanging out.

Dean wants to see the Cheers bar and Sam wants to visit the Old North Church, so you get an actual hotel suite in Boston.

You check in with your colleagues and employees, apologizing for being incommunicado for so long. Thankfully the hotel has a business center with a fax machine you can sign invoices and contracts with.

Dean looks at you curiously. "So... you really did just... start a business?"

"Technically I bought it out from the owner who wanted to retire. So more... maintaining."

"You really are just... out of the life."

"I was, til you two called me."

"...sorry." Dean mumbles, and you grab his shoulder.

"Don't be. I was never doing this for Dad. I'm here for you and for Sammy."

Dean nods thoughtfully.

"You saw him. With that girl at the art gallery. He liked her. She liked him."

"Yeah."

"And you... with Cassie."

"Your point being?"

"Life keeps building off-ramps for you but you keep on truckin down this road."

Dean scowls. "Look, I'm not stupid. I know this life is dangerous. I know my days are probably numbered. But I'm making a difference. I'm saving people."

"What about you?"

He blinks. "What about me?"

"I'm done trying to force you out of the life, Dean. It's your choice. When we finally deal with all this shit - when the bastard that killed Mom is dead and you and Sam are finally free... I'm not gonna stop you if you go back to hunting."

"You're not?"

You nod. "But I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose contact with you again. I'll be there when you need a place to crash or a voice to call. Maybe you'll even visit me.

"Just... I need you to promise me you're not gonna run yourself into the ground. None of this has been your fault. It's not your fault about Mom, and it wasn't your fault I left, and it's not your fault that Dad couldn't really be a dad to us."

Dean wants to protest but you shush him. "You're gonna do what you do. And I'm gonna stop hunting again. For good this time. But when you decide it's time to come home... I hope you come to me, little brother."

You stand up then, leaving Dean to his thoughts. He's quiet for the rest of the day, but you feel an almost companionable nature to the silence.

And just maybe, after this all... maybe your brothers will follow you away from the things that go bump in the night.

[fierymiasma]

➷ Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon ➷ // ominis x sebastian x f!mc

Summary: Ominis catches Sebastian and f!MC sneaking out of their shared house again, off on another dangerous adventure without him. Luckily, they know just how to make it up to him.

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Bliss, OT3, Silver Ttrio, Making Out, Aged Up! characters, Living Together

Word Count: 3.8k 🍃

|| My Other Work || AO3 ||

Ominis tapped his foot against the rug impatiently.  He'd been sitting in their living room, tea now cold at the side table, awaiting the other two's return.  He checked his magical watch again, only two minutes since the last time he'd check.

The nerve of those two.  Sneaking out in the dead of the night while he was asleep.  Doing Merlin knows what, going Merlin knows where.  Ever since the three of them decided to move in together, to make things official, he made them promise him that all of those unsanctioned not work-related adventures would come to an end.  He never wanted to be a widower at age 20 for Merlin's sake.  And yet, somehow, despite all their vows, he's been up since midnight impatiently waiting for their arrival back home.

At last, their front door open, creaking quite loudly despite their best efforts.  His two lovers had arrived back home, unaware that the real danger had just begun.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, you're going to wake him up.  Ominis will be livid if he knew what we'd been up to."  Sebastian whispered rather loudly all the way across the house.  They all were really getting older if Sebastian thought he was being sneaky.

He heard the front door gently click closed.  One of them locked it quietly. A feminine voice whisper-retorted, "Well, we would have cleared out those dungeons much sooner if someone didn't wake up the sleeping dragon."

Ominis could feel his heart in his throat.  A dragon?  Were they hurt?  If they weren't injured already, Ominis was going to make sure they were.

There was the sound of shuffling.  They were trying to take off their adventuring gear that they thought Ominis didn't know they had.  Sebastian teased.  "In all fairness, I thought our Hogwarts motto about tickling sleeping dragons was a small suggestion at best, or a defiant dare at the most."

One of them must have knocked over the umbrella stand loudly, making a rather loud crashing sound.  There was a sound of agony and swearing. 

"Shhhhhhh.  You'll wake him up!" She scolded Sebastian.  "If Ominis finds out where we've been, then we'd really be dead."

Ominis sighed, finishing the rest of his tea. Well, it seems like that was his cue.  Quietly getting out of his comfortable armchair, he strolled into the entrance room, his wand lighting his way.

"If Ominis finds out what?"  Ominis drawled announcing his dramatic entrance.

"Oh, bollocks!" Sebastian swore, knocking over the umbrella stand once again, causing a cacophony of tumbling knickknacks and overturned shoes.

"Ominis!"  She yelped.  Her voice had a nervous tone.  "Oh, darling, did we wake you up?"  She kissed him on both cheeks in greeting.  "Why don't we all go back to bed?"

Ominis has been with the pair of them too long to be distracted by placating kisses, no matter how sweet.  "And where are you two coming from?"

"-Taking out the rubbish-" Sebastian answered way too quickly.

"-Letting out the cat-" She blurted out at the same time.

The guilty duo stared at each other, now caught. 

Sebastian scowled.  Hands on his hips, he turned to their female partner.  "We don't even have a cat, sweetheart."

She frantically worried at her hands.  "You know I'm not very good at lying." 

Ominis was furious.  "I wake up, in the middle of the night, to find that our bed is once again empty.  No note, no sign of any of you two in the house."  The rid tip of his wand made angry sparks.  "You went off on one of your ridiculously dangerous, stupidly reckless adventures, didn't you?  You made a promise to me the last time this happened that you won't go gallivanting off to any more abandoned castles."

"Technically," Sebastian murmured under his breath as his girlfriend desperately jabbed him in the stomach to get him to shut up.  "No promises were broken.  I did swear, no more crumbling castles this time, Ominis.  We were in an abandoned dungeon this time.  Quite different scenarios really."

"Shut up, Sebastian!"  She whispered through gritted teeth.  "The second he finds out we had to duel a dragon; we're going to be in real trouble."

"Oh, I already know."  Ominis declared.  "I can't believe the two of you.  Fighting dragons?  Fighting trolls?  This isn't Hogwarts anymore!  You can't just floo powder your way back to the infirmary and expect everything to work itself out!"

She nodded rapidly, falling to pieces under Ominis interrogation.  "Ominis, I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to."  Sebastian rolled his eyes.  She always folded so easily for Ominis.  "I really mean it.  I didn't want to make you upset.  I know we promised.  But this time-"

Sebastian covered her mouth with his hands before she could spout out any more damning evidence.  "Ominis, it was just an errand run.  Nothing more than that, I swear, on Salazar Slytherin himself."

Ominis narrowed his eyes not fooled by Sebastian's lies.  He could smell burnt fabric, as if someone's sleeve had been a bit too close to the dragon's breath.  The air smelled ferric, as if there was blood spilt, either theirs or their enemies.  He sighed.  "I don't even want to know what you two were up to.  Merlin knows if I knew half of the stuff the two of you did, I'd be sent to an early grave."  He walked up to Sebastian.  Ominis ran gentle fingers over Sebastian's face, trying to map out any new cuts or bruises.  Sebastian chased his fingers with butterfly kisses as if trying to apologize for scaring him.  

"Are you two hurt?" he asked.

"No."

"Never, not even a scratch on her." 

Ominis nodded, stiffly.  "Good, I’m glad to see you both in one piece."

Ominis let the false sense of security wash over them.  The relief was palpable as they relaxed their tense shoulders, seemingly having weathered the storm of one of Ominis' infamous lectures.

Now that he knew they were safe, unharmed, and uninjured.  Ominis could finally give them a piece of his mind. He exploded.

"Again!  The two of you!  Why, I've had it up to here with the two of you.  Making me worried sick.  Look at me, I'm losing my hair, sick with worried.  I stayed up all night worried that one of you will come back in a coffin.  When we decided to be together, to properly be together, we all swore an oath to keep each other safe.  And here you are again, constantly breaking our vow to me, sneaking out in the dead of the night, not knowing if you'll ever come back in one piece.  Why, I'm so crossed I'm at a loss for words."

Despite claiming to be speechless, the guilty duo had to sit and listen to Ominis' tirade for the better parts of an hour.  As Ominis stopped to catch his breath, and calm his nerves, Sebastian decided now was the best time to chime in.

"Well, I've certainly learned my lesson." Sebastian interrupted rather boldly despite his girlfriend's increasingly panicked expression.  "I'm glad we were able to come to another agreement, love.  But really, Ominis you needn't needlessly worry.  We're the two best duelists in all of England."  He bragged.  "Even the ministry's hitwizards have nothing on us.  All of your worrying is just going to give your wrinkles."

Ominis whipped around to face him.  "You are not to speak for the rest of the night.  Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."  Sebastian gulped.

"And you," The tides of Ominis' wrath turned to his girlfriend.  "Again, and again, time after time, you let Sebastian and the whole population in London talk you into doing these insanely reckless activities.  Fetching dragons' eggs, fighting a whole horde of inferi, Merlin, when will you finally learn to say no?"  She looked down at her feet.  It felt eerily similar to their first meeting together.  "I don't know what's worse Sebastian's defiance of my direct orders or your constant need to please people at the expense of your own health."

The people-pleasing Hufflepuff in question could feel the tears threatening to make their appearance.  She wrapped her arms around Ominis, paradoxically wanting to seek comfort from the very man that was angry at her.  She buried her face in Ominis' chest, trying to hide herself away from his painful words.  "I'm so sorry, Ominis."  Her words were mumbled into his soon-to-be-wet sweater.  "Please don't be angry at me….or Sebastian."

Ominis sighed.  Dating two such different people was thrilling in its own right but also quite difficult at times.  Where Sebastian has not been immune to his moments of explosive emotions, their girlfriend lived and died by Ominis praises and words of affection.  Ominis tried his best, never to raise his voice at her.  But he was only human, and in moments like these where Ominis wasn't sure if they were safe or even alive at all…it was hard.  He did feel slightly bad.  It was just like their first meeting together, when he hear the new girl with the beautiful voice step out of Sebastian and his Undercroft.  The Gaunt family's wrath was perhaps one of the only things he did inherit from them.

It was always too hard to be angry at his lovers for any amount of time.  Hugging her back, he rested his cheek on the top of her head.  He ran his delicate hands through her hand, soothing her despite still being quite cross with her.

 "Darling, I'm not angry anymore.  Just disappointed in you.  I expect much better from someone as extraordinary as you."

She hated it when Ominis yelled at her.  Somehow it was much different compared to her screaming matches that she would have with Sebastian.  When the usual level-headed, calm Ominis yelled at her, he was most definitely in the right.  Now, the quiet disappointment?  This was much much worse than Ominis being angry at her.  Sebastian came closer to the pair, rubbing her lower back in support. 

It was always the same pattern time after time.  Ominis would get furious at the two of them for something that Sebastian would convince their girlfriend to do.  A very stern talking to and lecture would be had.  It always ended up in one of two ways.  Sebastian would sweet talk his way back into Ominis' good graces (and back into their shared bed), or she would unintentionally be her charming, selfless, kind-hearted self and just evaporate any of Ominis' anger. 

"So!"  Sebastian clapped his hands cheerily.  "It's been quite a long day.  I'm knackered and would love a good sleep in between the most handsome wizard in London and the most gorgeous witch in all of England.  Let's put this poor girl to bed, shall we Ominis?  I think she's quite learned her lesson."

"Oh, don't you think you can get away so easily, Sebastian."

Drat.  He really did hope that would work this time around.

Perhaps it was time for a different approach.  He moved behind the hugging couple snaking his arms in between the others' embrace, standing on the tips of his feet to rest his jaw on the taller man's shoulder.  Embracing Ominis from behind, he used his signature Sebastian Sallow voice that would have had schoolboy Ominis wrapped entirely around his finger.  "C'mon Ominis.  We've already apologized.  It's been a tiring evening."  Sebastian's lips tickled Ominis' ears, sending shivers down the man's spine.  "Please, let the both of us make it up to you."  He playfully nipped Ominis' ears before dropping his voice down an octave.  "I can promise you that our apologies are best heard in the bedroom." 

Sandwiched between his girlfriend's kraken like embrace in the front, and Sebastian's seductive voice from behind, Ominis knew where this was going.  He extricated himself from the two of them, drying his tear-stained shirt with a quick flick of his wand.

"Don't even think about it, Sallow.  In no way, am I rewarding your bad behavior tonight.  You can start by making it up to me by doing the dishes for a week."

Sebastian shrugged.  Well, all things concerned, that could have gone a lot worse.

"Without magic."

"What!  Come off it.  What's the point in that?!"  Sebastian protested.  He shot a look at his girlfriend.  "Hang on, why do I have to the do the dishes while she gets no punishment."

She sniffed, drying her eyes with the back of her hands.  "Yes, please, let me make it up to you.  I feel so awful for letting you worry about us.  I had no idea how much our nighttime outings affected you."  Ominis could feel his shoulders soften.  "You always cook us the most amazing dinners, Ominis.  And we immediately betray your love by sneaking behind your back the moment you go to sleep.  Let me at least prepare our meals for the rest of the week.  It's the least I can do."

Ominis sighed, running his hand through his hair.  "No, darling, that's quite all right. You don't have to do that for me."

"What!"  Sebastian sputtered.  "Oh, come on, Ominis.  Are you favoring her over me?"  Sebastian's jealousy couldn't help but rear its ugly head once again.  He couldn't help but worry, once again, if he was being left behind.

The blond man scoffed.  "Hardly.  Different people need to be punished differently.  Our girl thrives off of helping other people, getting praise, and being a little bit of a doormat."  He turned to her, hands on his hips, about to deliver the final devastating blow.  "There's nothing that you could do that would make me feel better.  You've really betrayed my trust today,"

Her expression was crushed.  Tears spilled over onto her cheeks.  "Merlin, this is ten times worse than any punishment at Azkaban."

Sebastian gaped at her.  Unbelievable.  "You are such a Hufflepuff sometimes."

She wiped her eyes before sticking her tongue out at him.  "Ominis tells me you're a bad influence, and I should stop listening to you." 

Sebastian pinched her bum in retaliation, delighting in the squeal of surprise she made. 

"Enough," Ominis said before this would get out of hand.  If he didn't stop this now, sooner or later clothes would start going missing.  "You both are sleeping on the couch together."

"There's only one couch!"  Sebastian protested.

"Then I suppose you'll have to figure out a solution.  Good night, the both of you." 

For the rest of the week, Ominis gave them the cold shoulder.  He did a stunning rendition of the Bloody Baron, drifting about their shared home with an aristocratic disdain for the other two.  ("Do you think he's still mad at us" he heard her whispering in the garden.  Sebastian snorted.  "Hardly.  Ominis is just being dramatic as usual.  You'll see.  He'll come around.") 

Ominis sighed, pinching his nose.  It was hard enough trying to juggle…whatever it was that the three of them had with his job at the Ministry.  Over the past week, his paperwork as an Unspeakable had piled up on his desk.  He was lucky that he was able to finish the majority of it today. Returning back home, he couldn't wait to make a nice quick meal, something comforting and warm.  Opening the front gate of their house, he mused over which book he was going to choose to read by the fire.  As he walked to the front of the door, his cheery mood started to dissipate.  Loud clanging and clashing sounds were coming from their kitchen.  Ominis could hear Sebastian yelling something.  Oh Salazar, what were those two up to now?

"Sebastian, the stove is way too hot!  You're burning it!  Let me cook.  I actually know what I'm doing."

"Says the one who managed to injury herself twice within 5 minutes of this whole mess.  You know, for being the best duelist of the three of us, you're awfully talented at getting yourself hurt."

"That's not what happened, and you know it, Slytherin.  Oh Merlin, why on earth does it look like that?  Is it supposed to be grey?"

"You think he would notice?"

There was a hacking coughing sound.  As if someone had taste tested their food and found it rather wanting.

"Oh, Merlin's beard, he's definitely going to think we're trying to poison him.  What on earth did you put in that, Sebastian?"

"Frankly, I haven't had the foggiest clue.  Can we call Deek for help, now?  We tried your way, being all cute and romantic, and look where that got us.  We should have done it my way from the start and just taken him to bed."

"Sebastian, not every relationship problem can be solved by a romp in the sheets."

Sebastian made a noise of disagreement.  "Hasn't stopped working for me yet." 

Ominis hovered in front of their front door.  Reluctant to open it and learn of the true extent of whatever damage they did to his poor house.  Maybe it was better if he just walked away and let this one play out.  Who knows?  Maybe they could pull through and not destroy the house he worked very hard to decorate and make a home. Maybe if he came back an hour later,  his girlfriend and boyfriend would be appropriately behaved, good, model-citizens.

"Maybe try incendio."  Sebastian suggested.  "If you burn the evidence, it's like it never existed."

"Hmmm….unfortunately, you might be right.  I'm running out of ideas on how to salvage this."

Oh, Merlin's beard.

The front door banged open, interrupting any more awful suggestions.  Ominis strolled in, wand out, ready to put a stop to whatever mayhem was happening in his kitchen.

The pair of them frozen, like two Nifflers robbing a bank.  For once in her life, she was glad Ominis was blind.  Maybe, he wouldn't notice the dough that had somehow stuck itself to the tiled ceiling.  Or how one of the freshly painted cabinet doors was hanging off by only one of its two hinges.  Or how her and Sebastian were both covered in questionable liquids.  Maybe, he wouldn't smell the burnt food or notice how one of his favorite tea towels that they bought for his birthday had been completely vanished (along with a few more traces of their culinary sins).

"Ominis!"  Sebastian greeted brightly.  "Just in time, we've almost finished with making you supper!"

"Is that what we're calling this fiasco?"  Ominis asked drily.  Merlin, he didn't want to even use his wand as a guide to "see" his way around the kitchen.  Maybe it was better that he didn't know the full extent of the damage.

His girlfriend approached him, gently taking his outer coat, scarf, and hat from his hands to hang it up in its proper places with the flick of her wand.  Her hands found his as she rubbed soothing circles on his cold skin.  "Ominis, Sebastian and I, well, we feel downright rotten for last week."  Sebastian snorted in the background.  "We can see how much our adventures affect you.  I can't make any promises that it won't happen again.  Or that Sebastian won't convince me to do something stupid again." 

"Oi!"  The offended man said in the background, throwing his hands in the air.

She ignored him.  "But what I can promise you is that we'll communicate better with you.  We'll tell you well in advance.  We'll tell you where we go, what we're expecting, and what time we'll be home by.  No more of this sneaking around in the dead of the night.  No more lies or hiding things from you."

Ominis could feel the tension in his stomach relax a bit.  "Well, I suppose it's unfair for me to demand you stop something that brings you two so much joy."  He chewed on his tongue thoughtfully.  "I'm amendable to this new arrangement.  I only ask that I not be left in the dark.  You have no idea how awful it is waking up in the middle of the night not knowing if you'll be left alone for the rest of your life."

Sebastian was behind to them, snaking his hand around Ominis thin waist and peppering kisses on the side of his pale neck.  "You shan't be alone.  We'll always be here."  His mouth was dangerously close to Ominis's pulse.  "From now on, you have an indefinite invitation to come to any one of our outings.  Merlin knows someone needs to witness the majesty that is Sebastian Sallow."  The other two snickered.  "Now come on Ominis,” Sebastian hands made their journey towards Ominis's belt.  "Let us make it up to you."

Ominis could feel how weak he was to Sebastian's tactics.  With their sweetheart in front, now pressing soft kisses on Ominis's hands, and Sebastian behind him, chin tucked on Ominis's shoulder, Ominis could feel his will waver.  Sebastian angled Ominis's chin towards him, eyes flickering to the other man's kips.  Whatever protests Ominis had in his mind were now entirely forgotten, too busy being kissed by his boyfriend.   

They kiss for what feels like an entirety until Ominis has to pull back for air.  Then, their lover kissed Ominis, hard, before he could catch his breath.  Ominis ran his long fingers through her hair.  Her hands have worked their way up to Ominis's chest and finding Sebastian's tie.  Her hands were wrapped tightly around the necktie pulling him in, refusing to let him go.  Sebastian couldn't stop grinning marveling at his own luck having successfully wooed the two most beautiful people on earth.

When she broke apart from poor Ominis, who was entirely winded, she tugged on the green tie, pulling Sebastian forward.  He gladly met her half-way, arms curling around her waist. 

 Ominis supposed one week of giving them the cold shoulder was punishment enough.  Except-

"What about the kitchen?  Weren't you two trying to make something?"

The other two separated from their kiss, arms still around each other.  The mischievous pair blinked owlishly, their eyes too innocent and too childlike.

"What are you talking about, Ominis?  I haven't had the foggiest idea what you mean."  Sebastian tried.

"We made…a small mess." she confessed.  "I think Sebastian was trying to poison you to steal your family fortune."

Sebastian laughed, before reaching around to Ominis to kiss him on the cheek. 

"Don't get too cocky," Ominis warned without any real heat.  It was hard to be intimidating when his boyfriend was kissing the edge of his lips, and his girlfriend was leaving bruising marks on Ominis's neck.  "Just because you two try to do something cute.  My mood can change at any time." 

"Mmhmm." Sebastian agreed, before teasingly nipping at Ominis's lips. 

Ominis sighed, fully relenting to the fact that he was too easy on them.  His pants were getting tighter, and his heartbeat quicken.  "I believe, there was something you two were meaning to show me upstairs?"

He could feel the other man's grin on his cheek.  Sebastian purred.  "Now, that's the spirit."

Their girlfriend guided his hand towards the staircase, "Come on, Ominis.  Sebastian and I have something in store for you in the bedroom."  Sebastian laughed, young and carefree.

Ominis shook his head with a smile on his face.  The two of them, incorrigible.  "Lead the way." Ominis answered.

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Ten)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut

The following morning

It was a gloomy afternoon in Birmingham, the streets covered in a thin veil of mist, creating troublesome conditions for the upcoming races. There was a lot of business to attend to that day, and Polly hurriedly made her way through the crowded streets in order to meet with Tommy at the gambling den.

As she turned a corner, Polly nearly collided with Lizzie Shelby, who was scowling with jealousy at the sight of Polly. Sensing Polly's urgency, Lizzie's expression hardened.

"Where is Thomas, Lizzie? Is he at the den?" Polly asked, her voice laced with concern.

Lizzie crossed her arms, looking down at Polly with disdain. "Oh, I'm sure he's off gallivanting with his new favourite person," she sneered before telling Polly that he hadn't shown up at the gambling den yet, which Polly knew was unusual for him.

Polly's heart skipped a beat, her intuition telling her who Lizzie was referring to. "You mean...," she began, her voice trembling. "You mean he's with Y/N?" Polly wanted to know, and Lizzie nodded, relishing the opportunity to unsettle Polly further.

"He's been spending quite a lot of time with her lately. Fucking her. Though he's doing his best to keep it hush-hush,” Lizzie told Polly while inhaling her cigarette smoke.

Shocked, Polly clutched her chest, her mind racing. She never thought Thomas would engage in a relationship so quickly after Grace’s passing, especially not with a woman almost half his age.

"Fuck!” Polly cursed. “I must speak with Thomas immediately," Polly declared, her voice filled with urgency. "This can't go on,” Polly pointed out, stammering almost, which, for Polly, was unusual.

“Why do you care?” Lizzie asked as her eyes widened, but Polly did not have time to explain and decided to rush to Tommy’s house where, no doubt, she would probably find the both of you.

An hour later…

An hour later, Polly finally arrived at Arrow House. She barged inside and asked Frances for Tommy’s whereabouts. As expected, Frances pointed to Tommy’s office, which, even in the morning, was a dimly lit room that smelled of stale tobacco and expensive whiskey.

Polly pushed open the door, revealing Thomas deep in thought, his brow furrowed and his eyes glazed with concern.

"Thomas!" Polly exclaimed. "We need to talk. It's urgent,” Polly told him, and Thomas looked up at her with a mixture of surprise and concern washing over his face.

“Polly? What's the matter?" he asked while Polly took a deep breath, her voice steady but filled with pain.

"You cannot be involved with her, Thomas. She's Arthur's daughter,” she spat out in urgency, but Tommy did not comprehend what Polly was saying.

“Who is?” he asked, his mind struggling to process Polly's words.

“Y/N. She is your niece, Thomas,” Polly said, her voice a bare whisper that caused Tommy’s chin to drop.

Silence hung heavy in the air as Thomas processed those words. He felt as if the ground beneath him had crumbled away, leaving him tumbling down an abyss of confusion.

Pale as a ghost, Thomas swallowed hard, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His hands trembled, his mind struggling to accept the unthinkable truth. Just then, a wave of nausea washed over him, and Thomas stumbled out of his chair, rushing to the nearest waste bin. As Polly watched in shock, he emptied the contents of his stomach.

“Lizzie is right. You fucked her, didn’t you?” Polly asked, seeing his reaction and just as she raised this question, Thomas's gaze landed on Polly, his expression one of disbelief and realisation. His heart sank, knowing that the love he felt for you would now be tainted by this newfound truth.

“Yes,” he simply said as many thoughts raced through his mind, his heart torn between his love for you and the sudden weight of your familial connection. How could he continue this secret affair, knowing the truth?

With a heavy sigh, Thomas finally spoke, his voice laced with resignation.

"How could I have been so blind?" Thomas muttered, his voice filled with regret. "I had no idea, Polly,” he told his aunt.

Polly took a step closer to Thomas, her voice filled with understanding. "None of us knew, Thomas. Y/N’s mother came to see me. She told me about it, wanting me to make sure that her daughter does not get involved in the family business,” Polly explained.

“I…” Thomas began to say, lost for words, and it wasn’t very often that Thomas Shelby was lost for words.

Polly, of course, was well aware of the gravity of the situation and spoke up. "We can't let this continue, Thomas. It's best for everyone if you sever your personal ties with her. She is your niece,” Polly pointed out, and Thomas’s heart ached at the thought of letting you go, but he knew it was necessary for the family.

“You're right,” he told his aunt as a mixture of sadness and relief washed over Polly, who queried whether you were still at Arrow House.

Tommy nodded, telling his aunt that you were sleeping upstairs, in his bed and that he would go and talk with you about it in private.

Half an hour later…

You wake up in Thomas's bedroom, stretching your limbs and blinking away the remnants of sleep. As you glance around the room, your heart skips a beat at the sight of Thomas sitting on the edge of the bed, a sombre expression etched across his face.

You scoot closer to him, the warmth of the sheets still clinging to your body, and try to place a gentle kiss on his lips. But he pulls back, his eyes clouded with sadness.

"Thomas, what's wrong?" you ask, concern lacing your voice. His silence unnerves you, and you need to know what's troubling him.

He takes a deep breath, his hands clasped tightly together. "We need to talk," he says, his tone heavy with sadness. You feel a lump forming in your throat, fearing the worst.

"It's about us, Love," Thomas begins, avoiding your gaze. "There's something you need to know,” Tommy tells you as he struggles with his words as if each one is coated in barbed wire.

“Okay, Tommy. What is it?” you ask as your mind races, anxiety gnawing at your insides. What could possibly be so dire that it threatens your relationship with the man you love?

“We found your father,” Tommy declares, and you nod.

“Yes, your brother killed him,” you tell him while running your hand over his back, causing Tommy to flinch.

“No, your real father, Love. The one your mother told you died in France. He is very much alive,” Tommy tells you, and your eyes widen.

“Who is he?” you are excited to know, not knowing that your excitement would be short-lived.

"It’s Arthur,” Thomas blurts out, his voice laced with pain. The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

“Your brother, Arthur?” you gasp. Your heart stops for a moment, the revelation hitting you like a gust of icy wind. Arthur Shelby, is your father?

“Yes,” Thomas whispers before his fingers brush against your cheek, his touch a mix of love and torment. "I wish it wasn't true, but it is," he says quietly, his eyes filled with regret.

“No, that means that…” you stammer, unable to say the words as it feels as though the room is spinning, reality fracturing like a shattered mirror. The man you love is your uncle.

“Yes, Love. You are my fucking niece,” Thomas blurts out, and you take a moment to process the news until speaking up again, your face laced with tears.

"Thomas, please," you plead, your voice trembling. "We can't let this news tear us apart,” you try to reason while Tommy looks at you, anguish etched in every line of his face.

"Love, I cannot be in a relationship with my fucking niece,” he tells you, angry and confused.

"But I love you, Tommy!" you say, tears welling in your eyes, and Tommy’s grip on your hand tightens, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and torment.

"I love you too, with every fibre of my being. But it’s not right,” Tommy says as his room is heavy with the weight of a forbidden love, the knowledge of your shared bloodline casting a shadow over their hearts.

“So, this is where you draw the line, then?” you ask. “You kill and steal and still have fucking morals, huh?” you point out angrily, shaking your head. Your mind races, searching for a solution, an escape from this agonising predicament. But no matter how hard you search, no answer presents itself.

“It’s not just about fucking morals, Love. It’s my reputation. The elections. Arthur. Fucking everything,” Tommy tells you, and with that, silence settles between you, the room filled with unsaid words and throbbing desire. Love and blood are tangled threads, impossible to unravel.

“I should leave,” you eventually tell him, grabbing your things before leaving Arrow House.

[thekatebridgerton]

Today on stories I'm too sleep deprived to write #XYZ

Sometimes I really think about writing a Polin fanfiction where Penelope marries Lucy's uncle and ends up neglected and abused, but doesn't leave him because of teenage Richard and little Lucy. Until she finds out about the deal to betroth little Lucy to Haselby Junior and how her husband is commiting treason and basically wants to sell his young niece to cover it up. So Penelope finds some will to live after years of just taking the abuse to protect the kids and sells her husband out to the crown, on the condition that the Abernathy title isn't affected.

Cue Lucy's uncle officially dying in a mysterious accident and Penelope moving back to London with little Lucy and young Richard. The Bridgertons and the Featheringtons are happy to have her back but Penelope's marriage has changed her and the first one that notices is Colin.

Penelope doesn't smile anymore, she's busy running the Abernathy estates and putting the fear of God into her teenage nephew because Richard is the darn heir to the Abernathy title and he needs to act like it, David did Richard no good and he really needs a good male influence in his life.

'No Colin not you, the last thing I need is Richard deciding he wants to drop everything and go gallivanting across Europe while his aunt and little sister despair in worry... I meant a male influence like Anthony, or Simon'

Colin starts putting the pieces together about her marriage when he sees that Penelope keeps reassuring Lucy that yes everything in the mansion is all theirs and that nobody can hurt them now. And when she keeps pushing Richard to make friends among the ton so his sister can have a better chance when she's presented.

Basically, id love to see a deconstruction of a situation where Penelope doesn't realize she's turning into her mother. And actually begins to see things from Portia's point of view now that she's officially An unhappy widow who's only joy in life will be to see her wards safely married and enjoying the life she never could.

She's Determined to make up for lost time when it comes to building connections and ensuring Richard and Lucy's future, going as far as policing Lucy's friend circle because ' Lucy is too kind and too naive, any false friend could play her for a fool'

Everyone else thinks Penelope is just being Penelope but Colin can see that she's spiraling under the weight of her worries and the ghost of her former husband, and he wants to help, he keeps showing up to everywhere she goes, trying to bring a smile out of her, encouraging her to think about herself, to dream about love, maybe remarriage, like Francesca, live again with a purpose.

Penelope thinks Colin is cute but annoying and needs to buzz off, she may still think he's handsome and charming but gone are the days she would feel over the moon for sharing a dance with him. The harder he tries to cheer her up, the more upset she gets, who gave Colin the right to see through her? Why is he so fixated on helping her, she's fine, she got rid of David, she's got Lucy and Richard and boatloads of money to do as she pleases! Penelope doesn't need Colin Bridgerton's pity!

Bonus if this is an au in which Colin still remains a bachelor, because he never found the love his parents used to have. And always felt guilty for not saving Penelope from the marriage that ruined her life.

But Colin keeps trying. Almost as if he's in love with her or something, but Penelope no longer believes in love. She's only hopeful for Lucy, because that child deserves true love, Lucy will have everything Penelope never did, Lucy is the future...

Even if Lucy IS developing the same predilection for Eton attending Bridgertons that Penelope did in her youth, Penelope will ignore Gregory's friendly attention to Lucy the same way Portia continues to ignore Colin's attention to her.

This won't backfire, not at all

[c0wgurlz]

Trouble On My Left, Trouble On My Right

Chapter 1: Sweet Caroline

Kayce Dutton x Reader/OC - Friends to Lovers

He grabs ahold of the belt loops on either side of my hips. “I just-” he shakes me, “I’m tired of people treating me like some wounded animal or-or like some bomb just waiting to go off. You’re the one person who-,” he licks his lips, “you’re my person. Please don’t do that to me.”

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UPDATE: CHAPTER 2

I'm a long-time fic writer and an even longer reader, but this is my first attempt at writing for Yellowstone. If ya'll have any notes on characterization or just anything in general, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thank you for reading xx.

As always: I do not own Yellowstone (2018) or any of its characters. This work is not monetized.

THIS FIC IS CROSSPOSTED TO AO3. It is not posted to any other site. I am lookingcold on AO3 and that is all. I do not give permission for my work to be posted by others to any other platform.

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I was no stranger to the Yellowstone Ranch, but bumping my way along its seemingly never-ending dirt drive, I still couldn’t help but feel out of my depth - like a little kid made to ride a bike with no training wheels. Its sprawling pastures surrounded by the towering mountains, standing at attention like century guards, intimidated me, and I had spent nearly every day of my childhood gallivanting around the property. I can only imagine how outsiders feel the first time they dare to mosey onto the ranch. Now, all this isn’t to say that I wasn’t looking forward to returning to Yellowstone, I undoubtedly was, but being there at the (somewhat) wisened age of twenty-seven felt significantly riskier than it had at the naive age of seventeen. The Yellowstone was trouble, and I had spent the last ten years of my life trying to stay out of it. Putting myself right back into its clutches went against every instinct I have.

Still, I was excited to see the people I had come to know as family. When my daddy died when I was only twelve, Mr. John treated me like one of his own, and when my momma remarried a man who was known for his fiery temper and love of the drink, he took me in as his own. My daddy and Mr. John had been best friends, so truly I think he felt as though it was his duty to care for me, but I like to believe he loved me all the same. And I loved him back. He taught me everything I could ever need to know - plus some. Helped put me through college. Even supported me when I wanted to take on the pageant circuit - although I don’t believe he minded the extra bit of shine my winning of Rodeo Queen added to his reputation. Hell, I even loved his ragtag group of kids, Jamie included if you can believe it. They were my family, and I wouldn’t have traded them for the world. Except I did, because Yellowstone was trouble, and I couldn’t let myself get caught up in that. And neither could Mr. John.

Sneaking up on Rip was somewhat of a talent I had cultivated over my long years spent on the ranch. I’m proud to say that I’m still the only son of a bitch who can do it. And that’s why I park my truck a good half mile down the road from the corrals. There’s a small hill in the dirt drive that obscures the shoulder of the road as you approach the house, one that Kayce and I used to hide away in, smoking or drinking, trying to stay out of trouble while getting into it. I park my truck on that hidden shoulder, closing my door as quietly as I can before approaching the road. As I walk, I stick as close to the fence line as possible, relying on the looming fence posts to provide me with cover. I know that if I can make it past the corrals unseen and circle around the back of the barn I’ll have Rip jumping a foot in the air before he can even catch a whiff of me. Lucky for me he’s locked in on what I can only describe as clownery, supervising some gangly kid as he works to stay on a bronco. Taking my golden opportunity, I creep through the barn, hushing whinnying mares as I go, before sidling right up to Rip’s left side.

“Now that kid has got balls of steel,” I comment, hands splayed across my hips, head nodding in appreciation.

I wish I had the words to appropriately describe Rip’s reaction. With a little hop and shout, Rip whirls on me, hand splayed across his chest, breath thundering in shock. “Jesus, what in the fuck do you think-” And that’s when he realizes who exactly he’s about to chew out. His eyes go wide and a grin starts to stretch across his weathered face. “Well as I live and breathe, if it isn’t sweet Caroline herself, gracing us with her beauty.” He takes a step towards me. “Come ere ya little menace!”

Before I know it I’m wrapped up in the warmest, most comforting bear hug on earth. If Mr. John had been like a father to me, then Rip had been like a big brother. My protector and confidant - and the target of my and Kayce’s many pranks.

“Where have ya been?” He jostles me around. “Haven’t heard from you in over a year, and haven’t seen you in well over that. Too busy for us old cowpokes?”

I hold onto his hands, squeezing them. “Well I haven’t been ignoring ya’ll on purpose, I’ve just been a bit busy. I -” And that’s when Mr. John comes ambling down the lodge steps, casual and collected as ever.

“She’s been in Oklahoma, working PR for the rodeo circuit. And based on what I hear, she’s pretty damn good at it.” Before I know it I’m embraced in a fierce hug, and if I didn’t know better I’d say I heard Mr. John sniffle. “It’s good to see you, honey. Welcome home.”

Rip looks between myself and Mr. John, confused. “You mean Caroline’s back working the ranch? We ain’t got any beds left in the bunkhouse.” At this, he turns to me, “Not that I’d expect you to sleep there but I know how stubborn you can be about doing what’s right.”

Mr. John cuts him off. “No.” He responds gruffly. “She’s not here as a ranch hand, she’s here as my PR specialist.” Casting Rip a pointed look, he murmurs, “Ya know with all the problems we’ve encountered lately I thought we should call in an expert to help with damage control, and who better than family.”

Rip nods gravely, a closed expression covering his face that I don’t particularly like the looks of. “Well if that’s what she’s here for then I’ll leave you two to talk privately. I’ve got wranglers to wrangle and supper to check on.” He turns to walk away, but pauses, angling his body towards me. “If you need me, Caroline, for anything, don’t hesitate to shout.”

He looks so serious, so grim, I feel the small, unsure age of eleven all over again. “Ok.” I nod, my voice coming out thin and reedy. “I will.”

“I mean it.” He’s firm. “Anything.”

“I know Rip.”

With that, he gives a final tip of his head to Mr. John and I, stalking off to holler at the gangly kid - Jimmy.

“What was that all about?” I turn to Mr. John, big-eyed and pale.

Looking resigned he says, “You know Rip, he’s just protective of you is all, and he knows I’m about to ask a lot of you, get you involved in stuff we normally would try to keep you out of.” He shakes his head, knocks one of his boots against the other. “But you’re my last resort honey, you have to know that. I wouldn’t drag you into trouble if I thought I could help it. Honest.” His voice is so sincere, soft in a way it rarely is. I would have believed him anyways, but now there’s no doubt in my mind. I have to do right by Yellowstone, by the Dutton family, by my family. I have to stay, wade through the trouble, and bring everyone out on the other side.

“Tell me everything I need to know.” It comes out harder than I expected, harder than I’ve ever heard my own voice. It makes Mr. John look up. His features turn steely, matching mine. We’re in this together now.

“Walk with me, let me show you where you’ll be lodging. I’ll fill you in.”

Ten years of keeping clear of trouble down the drain, but I owed Mr. John, owed Yellowstone, a debt, and I wasn’t about to not repay it.

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To say that what Mr. John had shared with me was shocking would be an understatement. Land and cattle disputes I had expected, helping Jamie and Beth campaign - sure, I figured (well maybe not Beth), but murder? Can’t say that was anywhere on my radar, or anywhere in my wheelhouse. If I’m being honest with God and myself, if it weren’t for my love for Mr. John and the Dutton family, I would’ve turned the job down. Any PR specialist with a brain would because what the Duttons needed was a criminal defense lawyer, not some cowgirl who’s good at turning nasty scandals into marketable flattery. But I do love the Duttons, and I love Yellowstone, so from the looks of it, if this ship goes down, I’m going with it.

Mr. John must think it wise to give me time to mull over the absolute bomb he’s just dropped on me, because after he breaks the news and confirms that I’m still willing to stick around, he goes silent, his face settling into a contemplative furrow, the same as mine. It isn’t until the foreman’s house comes into view that I break the silence, slightly bewildered.

“We making a pit stop or something?” I gesture to the house in the distance, halting my gait.

Mr. John breezes past me, only turning his head back to answer my seemingly stupid question. “No darling, I’m showing you to your lodging, like I said I would.” Darling is reserved for when I’m being a moron, honey as a term of endearment, and cowgirl for when I’m about to get what’s coming to me. I’ve not even been back an hour and I’ve managed to collect two of the three, and I’m not too keen on collecting the third.

I wait until he looks away before rolling my eyes. That would’ve earned me a ‘cowgirl’ for sure. “Well, who died and made me foreman because I sure as hell don’t have the beard or buckle to pull it off.” I hustle to catch back up with him, bumping his shoulder against my own, knowing I’m toeing the line between a chuckle and a swat. Thankfully I’m gifted with the chuckle.

“You know I keep waiting for your beard to come in, but I remain disappointed.” He shoots me a wink. “But no, I don’t want you as my foreman as much as you don’t want to be my foreman. No worries there.” He side-eyes me. “Kayce’s taken over from Rip, so this is his place now. I just thought you’d want to be out here with your partner in crime rather than cooped up in the lodge with an old fart like me.” I know he’s aiming for casual as he explains my living situation to me, but if my many years spent living at Yellowstone had taught me anything, it was how to read John Dutton. And right now, I can tell he’s up to no good - more so than usual.

“Right, because living in that big snazzy house would be so terrible. I think you’re just trying to keep me and Beth apart. Too scared to live under the same roof with us both. Can’t say I blame you.” And while I really wouldn’t blame him for not wanting to live with me and Beth - if she’s a terror alone, with me she’s a terror and a half - I have a sneaking suspicion Beth and I’s potential reign of terror isn’t the true cause of his decision. But I sure as hell can’t let him know I’m onto him.

He chuckles again, in an almost relieved sort of way. “You’ve got me there. I’d rather keep my sanity, thank you kindly. So no, I quite frankly don’t want to live with you and Beth at the same time. And truly, I just thought you’d be more comfortable out here.” He sighs. “You’ll be wrapped up in our mess during all your waking hours, I don’t want to take away the little bit of peace you’ll get during your sleeping ones too.”

I frown. “Mr. John, I-” I begin to protest.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. You’re in the foreman’s and that’s final.” Mr. John’s swinging the door open now, and the house is everything I thought it would be growing up.

High ceilings reveal exposed wood, and the humble home is lined with windows, letting in ample natural light. In a way I feel like I haven’t left the outdoors at all, the house is simply an extension of the forest that looms behind it. As kids, one of the few places Kayce and I weren’t allowed to wreak havoc was the foreman’s house. Mr. John always berated us whenever we’d beg to go inside, saying, “A hard-working man deserves some privacy, some peace and quiet. You better leave him and his home well enough alone or I’ll skin both of your hides.” For once we listened, neither of us too keen on getting our butts busted.

“Plus, I imagine Kayce will be mighty happy to learn he’s got his best friend back. It always was ya’ll’s dream to set up camp in here. Now you get to live it.” His statement breaks me out of my reverie.

“I’m sorry, you ‘imagine’ Kayce will be happy? He doesn’t know I’m here?” And so the other shoe drops. Mr. John always did hold out hope that Kayce and I would end up together. Said we’d be a power couple. Combine my business sense and charming small talk with Kayce’s grit and knowledge of the ranch and we’d be unstoppable. Let’s just say he was never too shy about his meddling. And while I did have a small crush on Kayce growing up, and I’d like to think he had one on me too, we were always both too awkward to entertain anything other than a close friendship. Naturally, we experimented the way kids do, having had a drunk kiss or two and having done our fair share of skinny dipping, but by the time we were in our late teens all romantic feelings had fizzled. That doesn’t mean we weren’t closer than we’d ever been though, thicker than thieves and troublemakers to boot. We practically lived in each others’ pockets. You wouldn’t find one of us without the other. I was crazy about Kayce and he adored me, but it was never anything other than platonic.

“Mr. John, I can’t live here if Kayce doesn’t know about it. You said so yourself, the foreman’s house is his getaway, a place for peace and quiet. I’m not taking that from him.” Hands planted firmly on my hips and lips pursed, I shake my head adamantly. “I’ll find myself a place in town or-”

“Caroline, no, you’re staying-”

“Or I’ll see if my cousin Amy has a spare room, we were always close and-”

“Caroline.” His voice is firm, if not a little irritated. “I said no. Kayce needs you here, you hear me? You’re staying here and that’s final.” This last part is spoken a bit softer, but firmly all the same.

Now Mr. John might not be my real daddy, but I’ve spent my whole life obeying him all the same, and this time is no different, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to plead my case. “Mr. John, I’ve missed Kayce too and I know he’s going through a lot right now, but he doesn’t need me.” I sigh. “And I couldn’t possibly put out his family. I mean, this place is small enough as it is. And Tate’s what, nearing eight now? He needs room to play and run around, I’ll only be taking up already limited space.” Giving a half-hearted shrug, I turn to head back toward the door, but Mr. John’s heavy sigh has me doubling back.

“Caroline honey, I wasn’t going to tell you this because I don’t feel like it’s my place, but when I say Kayce needs you I mean it. He and Monica split a few weeks ago, and with everything else going on he’s in real bad-”

Back turned to the door, I hear Kayce before I see him. “Dad, for the last time I’m not interested in meeting who you’ve got running for AG, so if you could kindly show her out I’d greatly-”

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I know I said Kayce and I had never been anything other than platonic, but you’d have to be blind not to see what a looker the boy is. God damn is he beautiful. I mean he always has been, but the years have been more than kind to him. Seeing him now damn near takes my breath away. The last time I laid eyes on Kayce he had just returned from the navy, eyes weary and hair cropped close. He had looked exhausted, almost dead in the eyes. Now though, he looks like a field set ablaze by the setting sun, all bright and aglow with something unnameable. Almost dangerous in his beauty. He must get over seeing me for the first time in five years before I get over seeing him because before it feels like I can even blink he’s across the room and I’m a foot off the ground, wrapped tight in his arms. I never knew I was missing part of myself until this very moment, with Kayce’s face pressed into the crook of my neck and my hand fisted in his hair. I swear I feel more settled in myself than I have in years, like I’m sinking into my bed after a long day, or eating a warm meal after I’ve spent all day working out in the cold.

“Caroline.” It’s a soft whisper in my ear. It almost sounds reverent, like a prayer.

“Kayce,” I murmur back, something private only he can hear.

I suppose he remembers we aren’t alone because before I know it my feet are planted firmly on the ground once more and I’m no longer wrapped in his embrace. Instead, he lets one gentle hand linger on the small of my back, almost hesitant and unnatural in its hovering. Grinning, he turns to Mr. John. “Dad what is-” his gaze shifts to find mine. “Caroline, what are you doing here?”

My lips part preparing to answer, but no sound comes out, just a whisper of an inhale followed by a beaming smile. I think it’s important to say once again that my feelings for Kayce are strictly platonic, but my God if a woman can’t get lost in his whiskey-brown eyes.

I’m broken out of my trance by an awkward cough. Both Kayce and I turn to face Mr. John, who looks a bit too pleased for my liking. Smiling wryly he drawls, “Well I think I’ll leave you two to catch up. Caroline, I’ll have one of the boys bring your truck up. No sense in you hauling yourself all around sundry.” Making his way outside, he pauses on the porch. “I expect to see both of ya’ll at supper. Don’t be late.” He saunters down the porch and down the path, not looking back when he hollers, “And Kayce, wash up! You smell like shit.”

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“So, you’re here to clean up the fucking mess I made then.” Kayce looks the most dejected I’ve seen him in years. Like a puppy dog that’s been kicked and put out in the cold. “Dad dragged you back to this godforsaken place because of me.” His fists shake where they’re clenched atop his knees. He tosses his hat onto the coffee table and rakes his hands through his sweat-dampened hair. “You know, I was so relieved when you got out of here. I was so scared this place would ruin everything good about you, set you up in flames like it does everything else.” His calloused hand clasps mine. “Why would you come back here? After everything that happened, after-” He takes a moment to collect himself, teeth gritted together, shoulders tensed. “After what Caleb- after what he did-”

“Kayce don’t.” I know what he’s trying to get at, and I won’t have it talked about. Not on my first day back. When I said I loved Yellowstone, that I was happy to be back, I meant it. But there are memories that this place carries that I’d rather forget, and I’m not about to let my reunion with my best friend turn sinister over one of those memories - over the mention of some asshole cowboy that belongs to the past. I want that memory to die with him. Placing a comforting hand on his back, I try to console him. “I’m a big girl. Believe it or not, I’ve grown into my britches and I know what I can handle. Plus,” I give his back a hard pat, “you really think I would let this place ruin me? I’d like to see it try.”

“Caroline..” He shakes his head, eyes glassy. “You-”

I cut him off with a quick rap of my knuckles against the coffee table, rising off the couch with an air of finality. “As for why I came back, well that’s simple. I love you Kace.” I lick my chapped lips, find a spot on the wall to focus on. “And I’m- I’m never going to abandon you when you need me.” I extend my pinky in the form of a promise, a relic left over from our childhood. “Come hell or high water remember?”

He straightens up, gaze ungluing itself from the floor only to meet mine. Kayce was always taller than me, but I don’t remember having to crane my neck up to meet his eyes the way I do now. His pinky wrapping around mine is a distant sensation in the back of my mind. “Come hell or high water.” He steps back, scratching his temple awkwardly. From a man to a boy with one simple gesture. “Uh, there’s only one bathroom so we’ll have to take turns. I don’t know if you need to shower, but you can go first, everything you need is in there, but I mean- you probably brought your own stuff so never mind.” He mutters below his breath, “God Kace,” and picks invisible lint off his shirt.

I laugh, bright and airy. Growing up Kayce was known for his ruthless pranks, and when I wasn’t his accomplice I was his primary victim. So to miss such a golden and rare opportunity to make fun of him would be a crime, his emotional turmoil aside. “No need to take turns bud, I don’t need to shower. Just got to freshen up a bit, throw on some makeup, brush my hair.” I start a slow saunter down the hall, sporting a feline grin. Kayce follows close behind- my shadow. Turning to walk backward, I poke him sharp in the chest. “How about you, Manure Man, hop in the shower while I do my makeup. We can keep each other company, catch up on each other's lives.” My back hits what I assume to be the bathroom door. I sigh. “After all, we don’t want to keep your daddy waiting. I for one don’t want a smack upside the head and I reckon you don’t either.” Angling my body so it faces the door, I reach for the nob and look at Kayce imploringly, my eyebrows raised, daring him to chicken out.

He suppresses a grin, tongue poking at his cheek. “Now you know that’s not exactly proper and I know that you’re trying to embarrass me, so you can go ahead and drop the act Miss Caroline.” Calling me on my shit, he leans into the door frame, his arms boxing me in on both sides.

Of course he knows I’m trying to embarrass him, anybody with eyes could see that. What he hasn’t caught onto is that I’m appealing to his competitive nature. If I keep poking at him long enough, there’s no way he won’t cave. If I know Kayce, he’ll take being excruciatingly embarrassed over losing against me any day. “Not proper? Sweetheart, I’ve seen you in your birthday suit more times than I care to think about, I don’t think standing in the same room as you while you shower will be the thing that sends me to hell.” I duck under his arm, grab my makeup bag from where I’d left it in the living room, and duck back under, swinging the bathroom door open as I go. Throwing my hair into a ponytail, I lock eyes with him in the mirror. His skin is flushed pink all the way down to his chest and he gnaws at his lip. Like I said, from a man to a boy with one small gesture. “Unless you’re too much of a chicken.” I shrug. “Then I guess we can take turns.” I aim for nonchalant, fingers crossed that he’s not catching on to my instigating.

Kayce’s eyes immediately narrow. Good, he’s taken the bait. “I know you’re not calling me a chicken.” His arms drop and he closes the door behind him.

Snickering, I breathe, “I’d only call you a chicken if you were acting like one, so tell me Kayce - are you being a chicken?”

He turns the shower on in lieu of an answer, eyes never leaving mine in the mirror. “I wouldn’t even know what a chicken acts like Caroline, having never been one, so no I don’t reckon I am.” At this, he flings his shirt off, and I hear his belt buckle clink shortly after, and then a thud as his pants hit the floor. The only thing that remains are his underwear and I hold his gaze steady, daring him to lose our little game. I can’t hear his underwear hit the floor, but I see the hunch his shoulders form as he bends to take them off. When he stands back up straight, he must see the devious gleam in my eye because he drawls out a suspicious, “What?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head, pressing my lips together. I fiddle with the hem of my blouse. It’s a frilly white thing with thin straps and a gathered waist. One of my favorites truly. Too pretty to risk getting makeup on. I pull the shirt gingerly over my head, not worried about appearing sexy, knowing my plain bra isn’t much to look at. I begin to sort out my makeup, lining products up along the counter. “I was just thinking about how I don’t want to get makeup on my blouse. That’s all.”

The rustle of the shower curtain opening and closing is Kayce’s only reply. Check and mate Dutton.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Despite my reasoning for us sharing, Kayce and I don’t catch up with each other in the bathroom, in fact, he doesn’t speak a word to me until I’ve completed my makeup and he’s finished his shower.

Brushing my hair slowly and methodically, lost in my own thoughts, I almost miss the sound of the shower turning off and the rasp of the curtain as Kayce steps out. He’s wrapped in a comically large towel, but his hair still drips steadily onto the bathmat, saturated with water. The embarrassment has leached from his face and his downtrodden expression from earlier has returned. “So dad told you about me and Monica?” He perches on the closed toilet, sagging into himself, sniffs. “Old bastard.”

“What makes you think that?” Laying my hairbrush down, I turn to prop my hip against the counter and cross my arms, face as neutral as I can make it.

Kayce looks at me from under long, damp lashes, his jaw set. “Caroline, we’ve pushed a boundary or two in our decades of friendship, but I know that if you thought for one second that you’d be stepping on any toes or be disrespecting my marriage in any way, you wouldn’t have started whatever all of this,” he gestures around the bathroom, “little game was. So what did he tell you?” His hands are shaking again, but rather than clenched shut, this time they lay open, palms up, almost pleading.

“Kayce.” I kneel down, encasing one of his weathered hands with both of mine. “All he told me was that you and Monica had split not too long ago, nothing more. And he didn’t even really want to tell me that, I kind of forced his hand. I promise you.” I stand back up and ruffle his still-damp hair, trying to bring some levity back to the situation. “Although I really don’t understand all the secrecy bud, you had to hear all about my messy divorce- and over facetime of all ways. I’m not- I would never judge you Kace.”

Rising to his full height, Kayce fidgets with one of my belt loops. “I know you’d never judge me, Caroline, it’s not your judgment I’m worried about.”

“Then what are you worried about,” I murmur.

He grabs ahold of the belt loops on either side of my hips. “I just-” he shakes me, “I’m tired of people treating me like some wounded animal or-or like some bomb just waiting to go off. You’re the one person who-,” he licks his lips, “you’re my person. Please don’t do that to me.”

“Oh Kayce, you really think-,” I laugh, “I just gave you shit in the most ridiculous way, knowing well and good you’ve been put through the wringer, and you think I would treat you like some wounded thing.” I bend down to retrieve my shirt, toss it onto the counter behind me. “I realize I have a bad habit of babying you, and I don’t plan to stop any time soon, but if you think for one second that I won’t give you hell any and every time you need it, well then you’re mistaken sweetheart.” Propping his hands on his hips, Kayce looks down, kicks his bare foot against my booted one.

“Now, nobody said anything about me wanting you to stop babying me.” He grins shyly at me. “Every good cowboy needs a pretty lady to soften him up a bit, ya know.”

I feel my breath hitch as his fingers wrap loosely around mine, I’m suddenly hyper-aware of the damp towel that seems to slide lower down his hips by the second. Have I mentioned how beautiful this man is? Have time and space away from him turned my brain into scrambled eggs? Why in the hell do I feel a flush creeping down my neck? Dear God, and I have to live with this man.

I smack his chest, like any sane woman who suddenly finds herself attracted to her best friend would do, and try to hide my nerves behind a too-loud laugh. “Well as long as you don’t expect this pretty lady to harden you up too, I think I can manage that.” Slipping my hand out of his hold, I grab my blouse and make to leave, but not before I catch sight of the scarlet blush that paints his face and ears. One foot in the hallway, I call back, “Now hurry up and get dressed cowboy, wouldn’t want to keep daddy waiting.” Closing the door all I hear is a muttered, “Jesus,” in response.

---------------------------------------------------------------

I wait out on the porch while Kayce gets ready, slouched down on one of the steps, elbows resting on my knees. The absolute quiet that surrounds me, save for the chirp of a bird or the rustle of leaves as the breeze blows, feels like a balm on my soul. I’d forgotten what it was like to feel this way. Content, at peace, like the whole world could be falling down around me but I’d still be alright, because this place, this land, will cradle me, protect me, like a momma does for her baby. I spent so long, years of my young life, running from one thing or another. Running into the arms of the wrong people, the wrong places. Yellowstone wasn’t the only place I found trouble, and while I was able to make a name for myself, to come out on top, the years I spent fighting for myself, fighting myself, have taken a toll on me. Never really thought the ranch would be my respite, but fighting for the Duttons feels like a goddamn breath of fresh air compared to what I’ve had to claw my way through in the last decade. This is my home, trouble or not.

The door creaks open, then shut, and I crane my head back to greet Kayce. “Took ya long enough, beauty queen.”

Unphased Kayce shoves his hands into his pockets. “Your face looks goofy upside down. And I can see into your nose.” He swaggers past me, down the steps, and onto the path. “Might want to invest in a nose trimmer.. beauty queen.” Fantastic. We’re back in familiar territory. No more warm damp skin, or slouchy towels, and thank god no more tugging at my belt loops or crowding me against the counter.. abs on display, broad shoulders at eye level… Yeah no, childish insults are great! Much more comfortable, way less confusing. I’m more than happy to engage in some lighthearted bullying with my completely platonic, non-romantic, best friend.

I must take too long to respond because Kayce doubles back, coming to stand at the base of the stairs below my feet. Looking at me funny, eyebrows scrunched and lips upturned, he asks, “You good? Wasn’t even that good of a burn to be honest. You’ve taken worse.” Actual concern begins to creep into his features, so before he can get himself worked up into a spiral of guilt I hop up from the stairs, dust off my backside, and punch him square in the gut.

“Oh don’t you worry ‘bout me, I’m fine. I was actually just thinking that I probably should buy a trimmer, keep things ship shape. And you know,” I glance back at him deviously, “now that we’re living together, there’s bound to be quite a few spa nights in your future. I could use it on you as well, really get my money’s worth.” As he falls in step with me, I expect him to protest immediately. When we were kids, I asked to pretty him up practically every day, told him I did boy activities with him so it was only fair he did girly things with me. In all our years of friendship he only caved once, the night I got my first period, told me I shouldn’t have to become a woman alone. He let me put a full face of makeup on him, paint his nails, and even braid his hair. No complaints, no making fun, just supported me in the only way he knew how.

So he surprises me when he inquires, “What exactly would a spa night include? Like what are we talking here? Fancy robes, overpriced lotion, cucumbers on our eyes?” His face is entirely serious, sincere in its curiosity. Man, it's easy to forget how much growing up changes a person.. how much marriage changes a person.

I stutter. “I- I mean, it can really include whatever you want it to? I normally take a bubble bath, shave my whole body- not that you’d want to do that, and then I go ham with some lotion, put on a face mask and hair mask, maybe whiten my teeth or trim my nails. Just depends.” I shrug. Kayce and I have talked about everything under the sun, but I never thought in a million years we’d be discussing my self-care routine.

He looks at me, eyebrows furrowed, contemplating. He kicks at the dirt a bit, tips his head to either side and then with an unexpected air of finality says, “Okay. I think I’d like to try all of that. I’ve never done masks or whitened my teeth before.” He stops, looking suddenly reluctant. “Wait, none of this hurts right? Like it’s relaxing?”

I place my hand on his back, half to prompt him to keep walking, half to comfort him. An easy laugh escapes me. “No, none of it hurts. And it is very relaxing, especially when you have a good bottle of wine on hand.” I wink, trying still to reassure him.

Worries assuaged, he winks back. “Well if there’s good wine involved, I’m in. Do you have the stuff with you already? Could we do it tonight?”

This time I stop in my tracks. If I was shocked before, now I’m flabbergasted. “You really want to do all that tonight?” He starts to look self-conscious so I clarify myself. “I mean, I’m more than happy to host a spa night, don’t get me wrong, but I just figured you’d need to warm up to the idea.”

Kayce walks a half step in front of me, avoids making eye contact. “In all honesty, tomorrow’s going to be a rough day. I don’t know if dad told you, but we’ve got to negotiate with the rez, the governor, and the sheriff tomorrow. Try to find some way to sweep everything under the rug, not let my fuck-ups tarnish the ranch’s reputation.” He removes his hat, runs his hand haphazardly through his hair. I know he asked me not to treat him like some wounded thing, and I won’t, but boy does he look it. “So, yeah, I just need something to take my mind off of the impending shitstorm I’m about to deal with. And I know you’re dying to gussy me up.” He flashes me a smile. “And if you’re happy, I’m happy, so a spa night it is.”

I sigh, feeling out of my depth. In all our years of friendship, I so rarely had to be the strong one. That was always Kayce. And while I’ve certainly toughened up in the time we’ve spent apart, I still feel so unprepared to tackle all of this. I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, misstep in an unfixable way. More than anything, I’m scared I’ll let Kayce down. “Your uh- Mr. John did tell me all that actually, but I hadn’t thought about how emotionally draining it’ll be. A spa night sounds good Kace. And we can even put on a horror movie, even it out.” I shrug, still feeling out of my depth.

Kayce doesn’t reply, but he does show me the barest hint of a smile, just the slight upturn of the corners of his lips. His smile says, “we’ll make it through this, we have to.”

[beary-rambles]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Twelve | The Question

Summary | The prince has shown up at your doorstep! what could he possibly want?

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon × Fem!Reader

Warnings | switches between jacaerys and reader pov, fluff!, hotheaded jace, not proofread

Word Count | 1.7k

a/n | things are finally moving along in this chapter!! i hope you guys enjoy it <3

series masterlist

Jacaerys stares after you as you walk away. The smile on his face is not faulting, he can feel his heart pounding against his chest. A hand grips his shoulders and shakes it. 

“I told you, you are a love sick fool.”

“Shut up.” jace smacks his hand off his shoulder and begins to walk away towards one of the staircases. “Youre still smiling i can see it.” 

He sighs having no reply for him. Hes never felt like this before. Did you cast some sort of spell on him? How can you have this grasp on him where you can dictate his mood by something as simple as a greeting or your smile? He barely knows you but he feels like hes known you a lifetime.

“Are you even listening to me?” he looks at lucerys with a blank look who sighs, “jace-”

“I need to go speak to the queen.” jace says before he sharply turns away from luce and walks through the corridors, his neck cramps from the amount of time he bows as he passes people. He will ask his mother about properly courting you joffrey be damned. As he is almost near his mothers chambers a voice calls out his name and he holds back his sigh. Of course someone had to come bother him now of all times. He quickly takes a deep breath and puts a gracieuse look on his face as he turns. “Lady cassandra.” 

“You fought well today my prince.” he rolls his shoulders back with a smile on her face. He knows she is just saying that to say something good to him as much as wants to say something he just shakes his head. “There is no need to praise a loss my lady.” 

“Dont be so modest not many a man would be able to fight against ser joffrey,” did joffrey even have a reputation for being good at fights? He would have to look into that later. “To celebrate you should join me and the other ladies for tea in the garden.” 

He attempts to hide the grimace that tries to fight its way onto his face. The last thing he wishes to do is gallivant around the gardens with the women of the court. “I am sorry my lady but i must speak with the queen-”

“She happens to be meeting with some of the court now so you are free to come, my prince.” and how does she know his mother is in a meeting now? And why does he speak of her so casually? Before he can question her heleana comes up behind them. “She's right, the queen is meeting some of the lord's right about now.” 

The two greet heleana as she waved them off and walks past them having said what she wanted to and jacaerys faces cassandra once more ignoring that winning look she has on her face. He clenches his jaw before offering her his arm. “Then I would be more than happy to join you, my lady.” 

Her smile grows as she grabs his arm and the two begin to walk towards the gardens. She makes a simple conversation with him asking what his plans are for the rest of the day? How did he feel about the tourney tomorrow? He grew more and more annoyed at her mundane conversation. She was quite frankly not doing anything wrong and he had no reason to get annoyed with her so why was he? 

A part of him tried to convince himself he was just still annoyed that he lost and when cassandra even noticed he was not in the best mood that is the reason he told her but when she was attempting to cheer him up there was a small part of him telling him he was so upset because she was not the girl he wanted to be talking to. She was not you.

—-

You feel yourself sit up, alarmed. The prince? He was here? Right now?

“Good day ser. I am sorry I had no clue you were all busy. I shall take my leave.”

“Nonsense my prince please whatever could you need?” your mother goes to stand by your father's side at the door blocking your view of jacaerys. Your mother turns to you and makes an alarmed face before you realize you must look like a mess. You quickly hope out of the bed and attempt to fix your hair as your heart pounds. 

“I simply wish to speak with your daughter.”

All of you freeze, your parents turn to look at you and you continue to slowly play with your hair.

“It is late my prince-”

“I apologize for showing up like this but I fear this matter is rather urgent.” 

You make your way towards the doorway and your parents move out of the way. 

“We’ll just… be back here…”

You can hear them feverishly whisper to each other as you step closer to jacaerys. You bow and avoid his eyes, “my prince, is there something you needed?” one of your hands moves up to your chest to grasp at where your heart is as you feel like it is about to burst out of your chest. 

He's quiet for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face as his hands trail down to where your hand is and he freezes before looking back at your face and turning his head. A blush forming on his face as he composes himself. 

“Could we step out into the hallway for a moment?”

Your jaw drops slightly and you turn back to your parents who look alarmed and shrug. “If you wish, my prince.” He offers his hand to you and you grasp it. He smiles warmly as he laces his fingers with yours and pulls you out into the hallway.

You don't go too far, your room only being a few feet away from you. He does not let go oof your hand. You enjoy the feeling of his hand laced with yours until the rational part of you remembers it is improper for you to be holding hands so you attempt to slip out of your grip but he grabs your hand once more and looks you dead in the eyes. 

“I find this hard to admit even to myself but ever since i saw you that first day you have plagued my thoughts,” you feel your breath run away from you as he takes a step closer to you, “my prince-” “please my lady i must speak now or i will not be able to speak again.”

You hold you tongue and he takes a deep breath, when did he get so close? You can feel his breath wisping on your face as he closes his eyes. “I have never felt like this before, you have consumed me fully and hold me in your grasp. I must know this, my lady. If I were to ask to enter courtship with you would you allow it?”

Your heart was banging so loudly you would be shocked if he could not hear it. The grip he has on your hand tightens as he eagerly awaits an answer from you. Your mind runs a mile a minute as you attempt to find some words to say.

“It is not a good idea, I am from a minor house.”

“That is of no matter to me.”

“But it should matter, you have every lady from every house vying for your attention-”

“Yet yours is the only one I wish to have. I wish for your eyes to only look at me. I wish for only your hands to grip mine. That is all that matters to me. So you must tell me.”

“Yes.” 

He freezes before a smile consumes his face and his free hand laces with your free hand and he laughs. “This makes me happier than you know my lady.” 

You can't help but grin as well at his overwhelming excitement. A part of you thinks hes about to ask if he could court your but he doesnt. Instead stepping away from, dropping one of your hands before leading you back to the rooms door where you see your parents waiting anxiously on the bed and shoot up upon seeing the two of you. Your mothers eyes drift down to your joined hands and a smile grows on her face. 

“I’d like to speak with you ser.” 

Your father clears his throat and puffs out his chest slightly, “of course my prince.”

You find yourself unable to stop the laughter that builds up in your throat as you see your father attempt to make himself look more intimidated and hide behind the wall as you laugh. 

“What is so funny? You dare laugh at your father?” This only causes you to laugh harder as you finally get out of jacaerys hand to cover your face as you lean against the wall.

You miss the smile on your fathers face as your mother smacks his shoulder and smiles at the prince. You manage to compose yourself as your mother straightens out her dress, “allow me to stay my prince, if you could.”

“Of course.”

Your mother waves her hand and ushers you to walk away and you look between all of them and you walk away, further down the hall until you cannot hear them. You lean against the wall and cover your face with your hands as the reality of the situation creeps in. 

He is most likely asking permission to court you.

Your smile against your hands as heat spreads all over your face. His words play over and over in your head and you find yourself shocked you actually managed to not faint during the conversation.

It was like something out of those fairytale books you read as a child. The prince finding the maiden girl and falls in love and they live happily ever after. The greedy part of you begins to imagine your life here in the keep. Getting to wake up and roam the rose gardens. 

You hear your name being called and you walk back towards the room and run into jacaerys who's just stepping out.

“I'm so sorry, my prince.”

He just shakes his head and smiles, lifting up your hand to place a kiss on the back of your hand before saying goodnight and walking off.

You turn and watch him walk away, the smile on your face only growing as he turns back to look at you once more.

[reiderwriter]

hi!!! omg i’ve been following you for a bit now and i saw that it’s not only your 1k celebration(AHHHHHH OMG CONGRATS GIRL!!!) but also your birthday soon!!! So happy birthday and i hope you’re having a fantabulous day!!

If it’s not too much trouble, could i request #4 on your 1k celeb list for Spencer Reid? maybe like imagine they’re undercover in a club or at a party and reader has to dance on him for some odd reason and boy is already mad in love and now he’s got a hard on while his crush dances on him for a case and reader maybe takes mercy on him and drags him to a private place tooooooo😋😋

it’s totally okay if this isn’t to your fancy so don’t feel pressured at all!! i love your writing so much and i just know anything you write, even if you don’t write this ask or if you change it up, will be amazing!!! enjoy your birthday b and take loads of a care of yourself!💕💕

A/N: Thank you for the request, and I AM SO SORRY it took me nearly four months to get to 😭 I actually loved writing this one, so I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for the birthday wishes 💖

Warnings: public sex, sex in an alleyway, talks of oral (m receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, creampie, coworkers to lovers, spoilers for upto season 7 of Criminal Minds.

“Cover? Right now? I'm wading through three caseloads of paperwork right now, I don't have time to go gallivanting across the country for another unit.” You stressed to your Unit Chief as she smiled sympathetically at you.

“Temporary reassignment means your desk will be cleared of work when you return, I'll personally complete it myself. That is if you decide to come back.”

“It would take one hell of an offer to get me to join another team, ma'am, and you know it.” 

Working under your boss Andi Swann at the Domestic Trafficking Task Force was something you took a lot of pride in. The work you did saved hundreds of women across the country, and you found justice for the ones you were too late for. It had been your second choice after you'd left the academy and a particularly ambitious one, all things considered. 

“Y/N, the Behavioural Analysis Unit needs you. Now, I remember your resume as well as you do, most likely, so don't try to convince me all of the profiling credits and courses you took at the academy were solely to be used for trafficking work.” 

You flushed as the woman caught you off guard. It was true that you hoped to someday be able to transfer to the aforementioned unit, but you truly still respected the woman in front of you. 

Deciding that your respect trumped your human need to placate her worries about you suddenly skipping out on her, you simply cleared your throat and spoke as calmly as possible. 

“What is it exactly that the BAU needs me for?” 

The older woman smiled back at you and shook her head slightly before opening her mouth again. 

“It seems that one of their team members needs a date.” 

–X– 

Having recovered from the shock of your reassignment and its details, you'd found yourself packing a few things from your desk, grabbing your go-bag, climbing into the elevator and arriving at the doors of the BAU.

You then struggled for a few minutes to open with all the things crowding your hands. 

“Here let me,” a voice said from behind you, as you suddenly saw an arm come up around your side to push the door open. You followed your gaze up the arm until your back was against the door, moving backwards even as he pushed it open as your throat went dry.

The man in front of you was hot. It was as if some deity had plucked your ideal type out of your mind, moulded him with clay, and kiln fired him before placing him right back in front of you as temptation.

You were sure that minutes had passed since he'd spoken with you just staring up at him like this, but alas, you really couldn't help yourself. 

“Oh! Thank you,” you smiled, hoping it would diffuse the sudden awkward atmosphere that your staring had bought on. “I'm sorry, can you tell me where Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner's office is?” You mumbled out, trying to clear your throat silently as you lost yourself in the strangers' gaze. 

His eyes were locked on yours, and as he broke eye contact, your heart jumped as you noticed his ears were stained red, embarrassment apparently not lost on him. 

“Up the stairs, first office, his name is on the door. You must be SSA Y/N.” Shocked to hear your name drop from his mouth  you felt a Rusholme mortification as you studied the man once again. 

Slightly messy hair, pile of books in his hand, dressed like he'd fallen into a closet at a retirement home, tall wiry frame. 

Ashley Seaver's description of Doctor Spencer Reid had been spot on. Apart from the part where she had failed to mention, he was quite possibly the most attractive man on earth. 

“Doctor Reid?” You asked, voice a squeak, almost scared that you were wrong despite there being no suggestion that you might be.

“How did you…?” His eyes widened with a smile as he looked back to you again, searching for answers with his head cocked slightly to the side.

“I work in Domestic Trafficking. Agent Seaver and my unit chief both gave me brief descriptions of your team so I wouldn't get bogged down with introductions when I got here.” You explained quickly for fear that he'd think you slightly stalkerish for knowing his name, even though he obviously knew yours as well.

He smiled slightly awkwardly again  and gestured further inside the office, sending you off to your temporary new Unit Chief's office with a small whisper.

“I look forward to working with you.”

--X–

The debrief with Aaron Hotchner was swift  and you appreciated the man's ability to cut straight to the point. 

There was a killer targeting women in New York City, just like there were killers targeting women everywhere. But this one had taken specific issue with women who were social climbers, who attended events with high profile and successful men on their arms. 

So far, the NYPD could link 7 homicides to the killer and were under pressure to catch the guy before Lucky Number eight. 

The FBI had stepped in and suggested you be Lucky Number eight.

They'd been sent the case as a consult and provided the profile, to which the NYPD had asked for full cooperation. 

Which is how you found yourself on a jet heading to New York City two hours after Andi Swann had called you into her office. Productive day.

“What does your budget look like after a year of private jet travel?” You wondered out loud as you followed Hotchner onto the plane. SSA David had followed you onto the plane as well, having tried to introduce himself earlier. You'd allowed him the moment of humility before telling him you knew exactly who he was, and he'd be surprised if anyone in the entire bureau didn't. 

“Well they haven't put me on display yet, so I don't think I'm quite a fossil. Pleasure to be working with you.” 

His words were kind enough, but they were a reminder of the other man you'd met earlier. 

The man who had since climbed into the seat next to you, ready for the on the go case briefing.

“We've established identities for the two of you, ready for you to go in tonight to establish yourselves as bait,” Hotch explained, handing you each a personnel folder. 

“Spencer, you'll be Charles Buchanan, local businessman with alleged ties to several socialite families in the Upper East Side.” That seemed to earn a few chuckles from Agent Morgan from his perch at the other end of the plane desk, but he cleverly kept his mouth shut. 

“Y/N, you'll be Daisy Smith, you're a student putting herself through a graduate degree, who has turned to sugaring to cover course fees.” 

“Sugaring?” Rossi asked from Hotch's side, waiting for someone to clarify. 

“It's a term used to describe the act of being a sugar baby or sugar daddy. A usually non-sexual consensual relationship involving cash or other materialistic gifts.” Spencer filled in the gaps easily, without looking up from the file he was scanning ridiculously fast.

Okay, speed-reading and super intelligence check, and you were two for two on descriptions of Spencer Reid. Swann's description had also left a lot to be desired. 

“We've got Garcia establishing some online profiles for the both of you currently using the images you sent us earlier. Hopefully, we were correct in our estimation of his hunting grounds, but he'll need to stalk you for a night or two before he strikes.” 

You cleared your throat carefully as you finally decided to ask the question that had been bugging you the entire time.

“I'm sorry if this is forward, but is there a reason I was chosen for this assignment? I don't have much undercover experience, and I was told there were two women on your team. Was I misinformed?” 

“That's correct. Unfortunately, last week, Agent Prentiss decided to take a job with Interpol in London. Agent Jareau was also recently married, so she put in leave to enjoy her honeymoon. None of the candidates we have lined up fit our Unsub's type. You do.”

“As good as I would look in a dress, you're going to be much more effective at catching this guy,” Morgan joked from the side, just as Hotch accepted a video call through to the jet. 

“Morgan in a dress, sounds like one of my dreams come true.” 

“Calm it, baby girl, what have you got for us?”

“Invitations to a charity ball being held in Manhattan tonight, and around 1000 hits across five sugaring platforms for Miss Y/N. If the FBI turns out to be a letdown, you have a lot of serious offers here, sweetie.” You laughed out loud at how she blasted through and diffused all the tension in your team, without even thinking to introduce herself first. 

“You must be Penelope Garcia. It's nice to meet you.” 

“Not as nice as it is to meet you, I promise.” 

The remainder of the jet ride had been quiet if not restful, the presence of Spencer Reid a disturbingly pretty thorn in your side. 

You'd sneaked glances at him multiple times, not an easy feat on a jet filled with profilers. His fingers had grazed yours as he passed you his file earlier as well, letting you read up on his new character. 

What you found most distracting, though, was the now bare stretch of skin peaking out from his shirt collar. 

He'd decided to take a nap at some point earlier, and now you silently cursed him for it as you looked at the splash of skin distractedly. 

You could press your lips there and work your way up to his lips. Or you could go in the opposite direction and have more fun, you reminded yourself. 

It seemed that image had you waking up, jerking upright so that you would not let that go any further.

This was your job. You were a professional, an FBI agent. 

You weren't allowed to imagine giving this man a blow job on government time. You'd have to save that thought for after the case was closed, and you could go your separate ways, you thought.

Landing was easy  and you moved straight into dress fittings and practising your story for the party later that night. 

Which meant a blissful few hours without the distraction of Spencer Reid. 

Luckily for you, the first dress they'd given you to wear had turned out to be a good fit, showcasing some of your more prominent assets. 

It hugged your body tight, but it wasn't uncomfortable, showing off a generous amount of cleavage and leg as well. It wasn't quite scandalous, but you knew it was definitely the kind of outfit that would stick out like a sore thumb at a socialite dinner. 

Which meant it was perfect for baiting the unsub.

By 7pm, you'd been outfitted, prepped, and deposited in the back of a limousine with Spencer Reid, and you were right back at square one trying not to climb him then and there. 

His outfit choice had been slightly harder, apparently, given his taller frame, but the three piece suit they'd given him was do perfect it was hard to tell it wasn't tailored to his measurements. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, whispering the words in your ear as he stroked your hand. Although the limousine driver was an undercover NYPD detective, you'd both been told to get into character as quickly as possible. 

There were a series of other undercover agents being placed throughout the party tonight - Hotch was going in as a representative of the District Attorney's office, a few NYPD detectives were serving guests drinks and food, and Rossi had managed to get an invite as himself. 

Morgan was left running surveillance in the van outside. 

Because of your outfit and the nature of the unsubs attacks, there had been no point in trying to put a wire on you at this point in time. It'd take him a week of surveillance to pick you up anyway. Tonight would just be the start of his hunt. 

So you let Spencer stroke your hand, fingers locked in his as you gave him a smile, and tried not to imagine them wrapped around his cock. 

“Just a little. I think it's the dress  shows off a bit more than I'm used to.” He took a second to glance down your body, as if he'd been waiting for your permission until now, and you watched his eyes pause over your chest and at where the hem sat at the top of your thighs, dangerously close to bearing everything.

“You look… beautiful. I think our unsub will like it, at least.” 

You tried to hide your disappointment as he pulled his hand away, ready to open the door as the car pulled up to your destination. 

You surveyed the room as you walked in, trying to memorise every particularly leering smile from men as you made your way to your seat. 

After half an hour, though, it seemed like catching your guy was going to be like finding a needle in a haystack. Or a creep in a room full of creeps. 

It seemed like every man who talked to Spencer only glanced at you to stare down your dress, a few even attempting to pat your back and let their hands drift south.

If it weren't for the sake of the job, you'd have sucker punched some of the richest men in New York City by now. And you'd have enjoyed it. 

Politely detaching himself from conversation, Spencer guided you away to the dance floor for a second. You'd planned it this way for when you needed some time privately to discuss potential suspects. 

A few other couples glided around the floor as you stood chest to chest with Spencer, surprised how confidently he was handling the caseload. 

His hands took their places, one on your hip, the other gripping your own as you both began to sway side to side. 

“Any ideas?” He whispered in your ear as you moved delicately. 

“Your 10 o’clock. Younger son of the Johnson family. He’s been sat glaring at me for 10 minutes despite his mother's attempts to network for him.” 

“It fits the profile, absent father, overbearing mother. He has obvious disdain for you. Is there anyone else?” His words were hot against your skin as you looked up at him, finding your lips surprisingly close as your bodies continued swaying together. 

“Half of the men in this room have undressed me with their eyes, the other half actually tried to put their hands on me when they were talking to you.” He stiffened at that, breaking eye contact as his eyes flashed with sudden emotion. 

His hand slid from your waist further down to stroke your ass slightly as he watched the crowd to see anyone taking offence at his sudden bold display of affection. 

At least that was what you assumed he was doing  as you too began to glance around, watching for anyone watching you, confident that Hotch, Rossi, and the others would do the same. 

When his hand on your ass pulled you closer into him, though, you weren't so sure. 

“Spencer, what are you-” You started in confusion, noticing that his gaze had returned to you. More specifically, that it had returned to your chest, as he stared down at how your breasts looked, pushed up against his chest as they were. 

He encouraged your other hand to wrap around his shoulder, freeing his other hand to land on your ass again as he pulled you closer still. 

You'd almost stopped moving, certain that having his body pressed against yours in every place hardly counted as dancing. You opened your mouth to say as much when you felt something twitch against your thigh. A low groan slipped from Spencer's lips as he adjusted your positions slightly as you felt something hard shift against your leg. 

“Do you seriously have a boner right now?” You whispered, as much in exasperation as in excitement. 

Spencer Reid was grinding his boner into you in front of a room full of people, and you felt like you'd just won the lottery. 

“I'm sorry, natural reaction. You look so hot tonight, and then your hands were all over me.” He rambled slightly in his explanations, mortification clear on his face as he tried to apologise. 

“It's okay.” You whispered in his ear, pulling yourself up on your toes softly to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

If you just so happened to rub up against him going up and down, eliciting another deep groan for the man, then so be it. 

“Y/N…” He whispered you name like a prayer and it almost convinced you that there was no one else in the room. 

“Spencer, there's no way our unsub is going to approach us if you have that thing tenting your pants.” You kept your voice low as your hands trailed down his chest. Pushing one further, you gently rubbed over his clothed member as if accentuating your point. 

“We need to solve this problem, don't you think?” 

His jaw clenched as he contemplated your words, trying not to let any other sounds out. His nod was barely perceptible, but within seconds you were glancing around the room for a quick exit, and in another minute, you'd slipped through a service entrance  and out through some corridors into a dimly lit alleyway. 

As soon as you were cloaked in darkness, Spencer was on you. 

Whirling you around, he backed you into the wall until your back was pressed into it, and his lips were on yours. 

You moaned helplessly into the kiss, hands finding his chest again and moving south even as he began exploring your body. 

“This is an important case, and we're about to blow it because I can't keep my hands off you,” he whispered between kisses, lips trailing down your neck. 

“Do you know how crazy we both must be?” 

“I know exactly how crazy for you I am, Reid. Now, please let me suck your dick.” You moaned the words as his fingers found their way into your panties, stroking your clit. 

“Y/N, I'm trying to talk sense into us here.” He groaned as your fingers fumbled with his pant buttons, hand sliding into the material to wrap around his cock.

“How much sense are you talking with your fingers inside me?” You panted, willing him to just fully let go and let you both enjoy yourselves. 

“While we're out here, Hotch and Rossi are inside, noting down anyone who takes particular offence to our exit. We can enjoy ourselves and catch a better lead.” You started slowly pumping him then, as he pushed closer into you, allowing you to reach more of him at this different angle.

His head dropped to your shoulder as he breathed out a laugh. 

“Right, this will help.” He tried to convince yourself, and you grinned in victory, rocking your hips against his hand to find your release sooner. 

Until he withdrew his hand and used it to grasp your own, halting your movements. 

“Spencer?” You pouted slightly, but he pressed another kiss to your lips  this time forceful and demanding, to guess begging permission to enter and dominate you. 

You gladly accepted him into your mouth, even as you felt him pushing up your skirt, letting the material ride higher as it had been trying to do all night. 

Making sure you were steady against the brick wall, he pulled your hips up and around his, pushing your panties to the side as he pushed inside of you. 

The stretch was maddening. Everywhere he touched became hot against the cool night breeze as he began his frenzied strokes into you. 

You lost all capability for speech, which was probably for the best, as you were sure you'd only ask for him to do more disgusting things to you eventually. 

His mouth slid to the top of your breasts as they bounced with each thrust, waiting to claim a nipple in his mouth when one eventually came free of the offending material. 

“Such a little slut, begging to suck my dick. Maybe next time, princess.” You screamed and arched your back as he finally bit down around your nipple, soothing the skin with his tongue as he licked and suckled there. 

His other hand fell to your clit again, pushing you to the edge as you finally came on his cock. 

He didn't stop though, powering through as you tightened around him, moaning wantonly as his thrusts hit deeper still.

“Let's see what our unsub thinks when he sees my cum dripping out of you,” he whispered again, as he too let himself go, releasing spurt after spurt of cum inside of you. 

Making sure you were strong enough, he set you back down on the ground, keeping an arm wrapped around you protectively as you smoothed your clothes back into place. 

You helped him button his pants as he smoothed your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear before ducking in for one more sweet kiss. 

“I'm sorry that I couldn't let you, uh, perform orally,” he blushed again, his ears that same shade of red you noticed earlier as he guided you back inside. “I think someone would have noticed if I'd ruined your makeup that much.”

You practically choked on your own spit as you finally slipped back into the dance hall.

“Next time,” you said, making sure to finish the conversation you'd started. “We’ll have more privacy.” 

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Mean Girls (Discord Drabble) "i'm on a bit of a writing hiatus" i say as i write something that is definitely not a drabble and want to write more of...

"What in the hell are you two doing?"

Steve and Robin turn in unison to find Erica standing on the other side of the front counter, one hand hovering over the bell, the other holding My Little Pony... Something.

And Robin is smart enough not to attempt to guess which outing in Equestria the younger Sinclair sibling is going to gallivant into this weekend.

"People watching," Robin shrugs.

"But..." Erica begins, giving Family Video a sweeping glance, "The store is full."

Robin tents her fingers, "The store might seem busy, my young friend. But we have entered, Limbo."

She wiggles her fingers in Erica's direction, but the kid swats her away.

"Meaning?" Erica asks.

"The store is filled with people who just got off work on a Friday Night," Robin explains, propping herself up on the counter with her elbows, "Lonely souls. Boys and girls getting ready to impress on Movie Date Night. Sleepovers. R&R time... Sensual adult – "

"Please do not finish that sentence," Erica interrupts, recoiling.

"Boom!" Steve beams, clicking his fingers before jotting a point on their inventory list-turned-scoresheet, "Penny from the Pharmacy just picked up a copy of Friday the 13th."

"Wait!" Robin yelps, rushing to her best friend and crowding him against the computer, "How could you have possibly guessed that?"

"Because she's dating that dickhead from the dry cleaners," Steve states as if it's totally obvious, "And he only rents horror shit. Plus, Friday is..."

He raises a brow expectantly, leaning into her side.

Robin sighs.

"Friday is Date Night."

"And yet, you lose," Steve teases and honestly, Robin wants to donk him on the noggin with their stupid clipboard.

Smug bastard.

"Can I be served!"

Robin snatches back the scoresheet, certain that Steve must be cheating. He cannot possibly have a perfect score!

She turns back to their demanding customer and finds Erica craning her neck to get a look at the clipboard.

"If you won't let me join in, that is," she adds with a challenging pout.

"Sure," Steve says, breathing down Robin's neck now, a grin evident in his voice, "Can't be any worse than Rob, here."

Robin swiftly elbows him in the stomach on her way to pick up the scanning gun.

She waves it around for a moment, carefully searching for the perfect candidate and soon settles for Scott Clarke.

"Mr Clarke..." she declares, slowly raising the scanner with an Ellen Ripley level of accuracy.

"Easy," Erica shrugs, "Mr Clarke is a boring nerd. I bet he watches documentaries in his spare time, on a Friday night, like a boring nerd."

They watch as Mr Clarke does, indeed, meander to the store's (very small) Documentary Feature section.

"Wait!" Steve panics, yanking back the clipboard, "I didn't have that."

"Oof..." Robin hums, pointing the scanner at her best friend and making a kapow noise.

[nightwingvixen23]

Dick : *pushing a shopping cart through Wal-Mart*

Tim : *browsing the electronics departmet*

Dick : what the hell Tim !? I've been looking for you for over half an hour !

Tim : over half an hour ?? in our local well-known shopping center ?? damn. . . you been awarded a medal yet for that type of investigative work, detective ?

Dick : whatever. just tell me where Dami's at

Tim : over in the produce section last I saw lecturing some timid elderly couple on the proper ways to wash their snap peas

Dick : the proper way ?? what even is the proper way ?? rinse with hot water and your done like there's literally NO other way

Tim : yeah. you would think. however you'd be wrong. you see we're all just a pack of gallivanting barbarians in that brat's mind. just stumbling our way through life. and all he wants is to "save" us

Dick : right . . .

Tim : *glazed eyes darting over the printed features of a laptop*

Dick : completely unrelated, but did you by any chance happen to catch up on any sleep these last couple nights Timmers--?

Tim : OH WOW !! a Samsung touchscreen 2 in 1 notebook ?? sign me RIGHT the fuck on up

Dick : I guess that's a no

Tim : you bet your ass that's a no; who the fuck needs sleep when you can have battery life for up to 14 hours ??

Dick : *tiredly checking the time on his phone*

Dick : I probably already know the answer to this but I'll ask anyway

Tim : go for it

Dick : did you see where the hell Jay ran off to earlier

Tim : Jason ?? yeah he went over to Subway to grab us all some lunch

Dick : he did ?? awwww ! that's so sweet of him to do without even asking 💖 ! you know he seems to really be turning over a new leaf these days 😌 I'm so proud of him

Tim : as long as he remembers to ask for lettuce on my spicy Italian sub then I'll be just as proud of him too

[ Meanwhile ]

Jason : how the fuck can the Subway inside of Wal-Mart be out of lettuce ?????

Jason : *dragging an employee up to eye level over the salad bar*

Jason : GO GET IT

[mlmxreader]

Hi can I request nsfw alphabet for soap Rudy and Alejandro please?

all gn!reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A=Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Soap is a little difficult; depending no what mood he's in, he'll either be completely attentive, or he'll just leave you do your own devices. Rodolfo is tender and gentle; he understands that with his military training, he can sometimes push you too far. He tries to focus on you as much as he can after sex, and is so, so sweet. He's mostly verbal - lots of praise and compliments falling from his lips between every kiss. Alejandro is kind; he's a Colonel, and like all great leaders, he knows when he's needed and when he has to be a kind, gentle presence. He's very physical - washing you down gently with calloused hands, soft pecks to your temples and forehead every chance.

B=Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

Soap is simple, he likes your ass and he is far from shy about saying it and showing it; he's a man who knows what he likes, and takes every opportunity to talk about it at length. Rodolfo loves your eyes, they're what he fell in love with first of all, but he loves how he can so easily get lost in them, staring up at you as you ride him. Rodolfo will never cease to tell you how much he loves your eyes and how wonderful they are. Alejandro loves your hands; during sex, especially, he loves to hold them and to feel your fingers intwined with his. He adores how your hands feel against his own, and how you grin when he kisses your palms and your knuckles.

C=Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Soap is, again, simple - he will cum anywhere. In your ass, in your mouth, on your back, on your face. He isn't picky. Rodolfo prefers to cum inside your ass, as he's a little more traditional and has never been keen on the thought of cumming anywhere else except inside you - however, if you ask him to do it anywhere else, he'll happily do so. Alejandro likes to cum in your mouth, and has done every since you first sucked him off; the way you smiled and grinned at him was fucking hypnotic, and he's always had a preference for cumming in your mouth since.

D=Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Soap hates threesomes, but he's always had a kink for fucking you while someone else is watching - someone like Alex, who isn't a member of his team. Rodolfo's dirty secret is that he loves it when you walk around in nothing but one of his zip-up hoodies done all the way down so everything is on show; the sight of you, wearing nothing but just that one grey zip-up hoodie is burned into his mind and something he absolutely has gotten off to several times. Alejandro's secret is that he actually adores it when you call him by his rank; every time you're riding him and you've let it slip, he's always had to bite the inside of his lip to stop himself from cumming on the spot. There's something about the way it sounds when you moan it so softly, it drives him wild.

E= Experience (How experienced are they?)

Soap is hardly experienced, and you have to tell him how to things properly; he's all talk, no trousers. Rodolfo is a good looking guy, but he hasn't had tonnes of experience; he hasn't had the time to go gallivanting off for sex, so he's understandably a little bit behind. But he knows the basics, and he's very skilled at what he does know. Alejandro is more or less the same, but he has had quite a bit of experience; it's not a massive load, as he's not had a lot of time for sexual encounters due to his job, but he's got quite a few notches in his belt.

F= Favorite Position

Soap - face down, ass up. Rodolfo - riding, your hands on his chest especially. Alejandro - prefers doggy, but only if he can lean over and grab your hands to hold them.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Soap tries to be humorous, but it always fails; he's not very good at it, even when he does his best. Rodolfo can be a mix; he loves to see your eyes light up when you smile and laugh, so of course he tries to throw in some humour here and there. But sometimes he's had a rough day, or you have, and the only way to get through it is with a good fuck to clear your minds. Alejandro is more on the humorous side; he likes to hear your moans get cut off when you laugh, and loves nothing more than to know that you're smiling as he's fucking you. His jokes are awful, though, it's all dad jokes.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Soap is completely shaven, even if you beg him to go natural, he'll never do it. Rodolfo is completely natural; he tidies his pubic hair every now and then, but only if he can be bothered. It suits him, though, the thick black curls around his base are long and tickle your nose. But you would hate it if he ever trimmed or shaved his bush. Alejandro is too smart to shave it; he doesn't care what anyone else says, he'll let it be natural. His pubic hair is only slightly lighter than that on his head, but it does match the hair on his stomach, chest, thighs and arms.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Soap is sort of intimate, or at least, he tries to be - and fails. Rodolfo is romantic when you are; if you want him to be sweet and gentle and intimate, then of course he will be. But if you want him to treat you like a fuck toy, then of course he will. It depends on you, and how you want him to be - he loves you, he's willing to do anything. Alejandro is always romantic, in a way. He likes to hold your hands and to kiss you and to be physically close, but he's rarely verbal about it; he will, however, be less romantic and intimate if you want him to. He adores you, but he also knows that sometimes, all you want is a good fuck.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Soap does it at least 3/4 times a day. Rodolfo usually only ever jacks off when he's really pent up; he's special forces, so he has a lot of self control and patience, but he is still only human. Alejandro is very, very rarely going to masturbate; it's his very last resort in the world and he isn't proud of it, but he is only human and knows that he has needs just as much as anybody else.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Soap - voyeur, edging, mean!Dom Rodolfo - breeding, praise, soft!Dom Alejandro - Sir kink, praise, hand holding

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Soap - back of his car Rodolfo - the bedroom Alejandro - anywhere with a lockable door and a bed

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Soap is easy, he'll be turned on by just a little kiss to his neck as much as a gentle brush of your hand against his shoulder or thigh. Rodolfo loves seeing you walk around in nothing but his grey zip-up hoodies; wear it completely undone and he is all yours. Alejandro is a patient man, tease him as much as you like and you'll get nowhere - but call him "Sir" and place the palm of your hand against his and he is putty between your fingers.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Soap - threesomes, anything that brings the 141 into it Rodolfo - degrading, humiliation, voyeur Alejandro - degrading, humiliation, anything that means hurting you

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Soap has never performed oral in his life and it shows. You have to coax him through it, step by step. Rodolfo prefers to give, and he is quite good at it, although not the best; however, with some practice, he'd be great. Alejandro prefers to receive, but he is also good at giving; he's got some talent, that's for sure.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Soap is fast but not rough; you can ask him to be rough, but he isn't really sure how to do it until you actually teach him. Rodolfo can do either way, depending on what kind of day you've had as well as how his own has gone; he always, always puts you first, though. Alejandro is usually more on the slow and sensual side, he wants sex to be a fun experience instead of just a quick release; so expect a lot of kissing and a lot of dad jokes.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Soap will always say yes. As long as it's not somewhere that anyone from 141 can catch you, it's always a yes. Rodolfo prefers proper sex, in all honesty; however, he will say yes to a quickie every now and then if the location and the risk isn't a worry - such as out in the middle of the woods where no one's around. Alejandro isn't keen on quickies at all - he likes sex to be an experience, even if it's one of those occasions where you both just need to let loose and let off some steam.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Soap will experiment quite a bit, but he will not take risks around his team at all. Rodolfo does enjoy experimenting with you, but he does measure up the risks before anything; he's careful, and he's intelligent. There's a reason he made Sergeant-Major, and it's not because he takes stupid risks. Alejandro experiments every now and then, but you have to be in the right mood for it and so does he; however, risks aren't something he's partial to. He's a Colonel, he isn't going to do something if it's risky.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

Soap - 2, and you're lucky if they last an hour each. Rodolfo - 3 rounds max, an hour/an hour and a half each. Alejandro - 3 rounds max, about an hour and a quarter each.

T=Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Soap - no. Rodolfo has a few toys - anal beads, dildos, vibrators and the like - and he's more than happy to use them on you if you want him to. Alejandro doesn't have any himself, but if you introduce some and ask him to use them on you, he's happy to do so.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Soap does his best, but his teasing just sounds like the script of a really bad 1970's porno film. Rodolfo can tease, but he always caves in and gives you whatever you want from him; he's a soft dominant, and he's easy to turn to putty where you're concerned. Alejandro is a patient and clever man, of course he can tease you until you're begging him to stop; he'll make sure you know the safe-word, though, and what physical signs (such as tapping his leg) to give him if he goes overboard, though.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Soap is atrociously loud. Rodolfo is average volume, he moans and he grunts and groans between praises, but he doesn't get to the point of raising his voice, and he doesn't go quieter than his usual speaking voice, either. Alejandro is a little quiet, when he moans and he growls and he shudders it comes out very quiet; but the praises he gives you and the jokes that he tells you are all in his normal voice, albeit a bit more hushed.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Soap's biggest turn off is when his s/o mentions him getting it on with Ghost, or inviting Ghost for a threesome. He despises the thought of it. Rodolfo likes to wear a cowboy hat during sex; it's just a fun little thing he does, and you adore him for it. Sometimes he lets you wear it out in public if it's particularly sunny. Alejandro likes to play Barry White songs whilst having sex; he thinks it's romantic and it's fun, and the songs are good so you can't really complain.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Soap - 4.5 inches, 2 inches thick. No curve and uncut. Rodolfo - 5.5 inches, 4 inches thick with a slight curve to the left and cut. A handful of visible veins, but not many. Alejandro - 5.5 inches, 5 inches thick, slight curve upwards, cut. Quite a fair few visible veins, but not a fuck tonne.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Soap has a very high sex drive, like, VERY high. Rodolfo's sex drive is pretty average; he's down for sex whenever you are, and he's happy to wait as well. Alejandro is a man of incredible patience, so he can pretend like he isn't horny for weeks even if he is absolutely aching for a shag.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Soap falls asleep five seconds after finishing a cigarette. Rodolfo waits until you're asleep first, and then he'll pull you flush to his chest, his face pressed to the back of your neck, and he'll eventually doze off. Alejandro also waits, but he lets you rest your head on his chest as he slowly dozes off to the sound and feeling of your snoring; he'll hold your hand the entire time, too.