#It was them in that waiting room I just know it

[writersdrug]

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.  

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

[nightingale-prompts]

God's TV- DC x DP prompt

Accidentally summoning a god from another dimension can happen, especially when cults are involved. However, no can could predict that the not only was the god a teenage boy but also a very bored teenage boy who didn't want to leave.

So he stayed and moved into Titans tower.

Danny is helpful (when he wants to be) but rarely goes out on missions. He says they are boring and nothing is dangerous enough to exert the effort. Instead, he minds the medical bay. Having a healer more than made up for the lack of help.

It's not like anyone disliked Danny or thought he didn't do anything it was just that he was unpredictable. Danny could be nice, considerate, and even sweet if he was working in the medbay. He could also be a pain in the ass anywhere else. He loved pranks and scaring people with his powers. He was harmless though.

No one really knew what he did all day. He was usually in his room doing something they guested. Said room was an anomaly. It was larger on the inside having been made into a pocket dimension. The appearance and organization of the room changed every time you went in.

It was after one mission that the team learned what was in the room.

A rogue had used their invention to erase Superboy's memories and they didn't know what to do. They took him to Danny who was currently rearranging the medicine by color. They hoped that his powers covered mind-altering afflictions. Unfortunately, Danny couldn't wave a hand and fix this.

Instead, Danny took the group to his room. The decor was neon Tokyo meets space right now. The furniture was currently floating and almost hitting Wonder Girl in the head with an end table. Of course, there was no gravity here.

"Stay here while I grab it," Danny said flying up the vertical corridor.

While he was gone the room rearranged itself into a contemporary format. The furniture grounded itself and shifted into a normal living room.

Danny returned with a cart and a headset. He placed a card he pulled out of the cart into the headset and put it on the dazed Superboy's head.

"Wait what is that?" Tim asked.

"It's his memories. I kept a backup in case this happened." Danny shrugged.

Immediately everyone began asking what the hell does that mean and why does he have that.

"Oh please, this dimension has this happened all the time. Amnesia is so cliché and cheap. I saw a pattern and decided the easiest way to prevent you from losing the entirety of your lives was to make save states of your memories." Danny said matter of fact.

Robin pinched the bridge of his nose.

Impulse studied the rack of cases and looking for the card with his name on it.

Wondergirl sighed, she was used to this from Robin but even he wouldn't go this far.

"What? It's not like just anyone can find these. Only you can access your own memories anyways. I just decided to repurpose my RE:Viewer." Danny pouted.

"What is a reviewer?" Wally asked flipping through the cases. Each one had titles like moves or shows with an arrangement of stickers.

"The RE:Viewer is something I created to catalog things I've seen looking into other dimensions. I don't have an infinite memory you know. But the longer I have my title the more I'll lose touch with my mortality. These things help me stay close to people by giving me the chance to remember how it feels. I also have been using them to get the stories of others. Keeping their experiences like you'd keep a TV show or movie. So many stories could have been lost to time but now they are saved. I use them to teach myself." Danny smiled.

The concept genuinely sounded interesting. Like experiencing a movie in 4d.

It had been 3 minutes before Kon took off the headset and back to his old self.

Danny pulled the input card out and it disappeared into another realm with a flick of the wrist. Danny was completely honest that the copies were inaccessible to everyone but him.

"You feeling alright Superboy? Your memory should be backed up until a week ago." Danny said shining a light in his eye.

"I'm fine. I think. What happened?" Kon asked batting the light out of his eyes.

"Explanation later. Take a nap first. You aren't concussed at least." Danny informed.

"What are the stickers for?" Wally said pointing at the rainbow of colors the card cases had.

"Just the emotions associated with the experiences. Orange is comedy, red is action, pink is romance, and blue is tragedy." Danny listed. "That one with the pink is one of my favorites. I meddled a bit in that world. Two people who had never met fell in love at two points at different times. One of them was doomed to die but I worked my magic on a mirror that allowed them to meet once. They shared notes left in different places for the other months ahead. Makes you believe in true love. A real tear-jerker."

"What about the black stickers?" Wally asked.

"Don't touch the black ones," Danny said darkly, smacking his hand away. "You don't need to know about those. I don't like thinking about them."

"So you just take the memories of others and put them inside your machine to replay later?" Batgirl asked. "Isn't that kind of wrong?"

"No, I asked permission. I usually pull them aside at some point and ask. If it's my memories (that's the green stickers) I don't need to. The rainbow ones are simulations. Like a video games." Danny responded patting her on the back for not being to hard on him about this admittedly weird situation.

"So what's the black one with the rainbow sticker?" Wally asked picking up the case that was obviously stuffed in the back.

"STOP TOUCHING THOSE!" Danny yelled pulling him away.

[luveline]

jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)

“You aren’t still mad.”

You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer. 

Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.” 

You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.” 

“I want it just as bad as you do.” 

“But I’m better.” 

“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.” 

You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?” 

She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?” 

“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff. 

“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.” 

“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”

“What, without you?” Elle asks. 

“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead. 

“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs. 

“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”

“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.” 

“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.” 

“And Spencer Reid?” she asks. 

You grin. “He’s cute.” 

“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?” 

“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did. 

“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows. 

“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.” 

“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes. 

“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.” 

“You don’t want to be that friend?” 

You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.” 

“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.” 

“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?” 

“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.” 

“You’re heartless, Greenaway.” 

You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle. 

But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team. 

No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle. 

You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends. 

Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk. 

“Hi boys,” she greets. 

Derek turns. 

Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes. 

You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.” 

Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.” 

You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?” 

“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”

“You really like bugs, huh?”

“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.” 

You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.” 

“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.” 

“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.” 

You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths. 

“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks. 

“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel. 

“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs. 

Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts. 

There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on. 

“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.” 

[thewidowsledger]

Toothbrush

© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)

Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

⧗

“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”

Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.

“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”

“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.

“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” she said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.

“You gotta be kidding Tony…”

“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”

Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.

The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.

“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.

With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.

Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.

The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.

As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.

“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.

“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.

“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.

Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”

Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”

“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”

Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”

Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.

“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.

“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”

“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”

“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”

Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.

“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”

⧗

For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.

Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.

As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.

She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.

She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.

Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.

“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.

“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”

Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.

The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.

She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.

Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.

Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.

However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.

You: Hi dear

Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.

She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.

Natasha: Good evening, how are you?

You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?

Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.

You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.

Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.

Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.

She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.

You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥

You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.

Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.

Nat: Thanks :)))

You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?

⧗

“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”

You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.

Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”

And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”

“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.

“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”

Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”

You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.

Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.

“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”

Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.

She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.

After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.

Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.

“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”

“Please…p-please mommy.”

You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.

“That’s not my name baby.”

“Mommy, please!”

You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”

“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”

“So good! So tight!” She cries.

“Oh yeah?”

You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.

Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”

“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.

“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.

“Y-yes…”

Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”

Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”

“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”

Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.

You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”

Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.

“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”

You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.

“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”

So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.

“Natty…baby stop…”

“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.

“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”

“Wha—”

Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”

As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.

Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.

“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.

“Yesyesyes!”

Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.

She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.

“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.

“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.

You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.

You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.

Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”

Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.

“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.

“You’re so good for me, mama.”

⧗

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.

You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.

“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”

“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.

Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it

“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”

You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.

You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.

The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.

Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.

“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”

“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.

“22 years old?”

A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.

She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.

You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.

“You're 22?!”

“Wha—”

“Your bio says you're 28!”

“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”

“That's bullshit!”

“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.

“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...

“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.

“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.

“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.

“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.

“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.

“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.

“Hm, just fucking.”

“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.

Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.

“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”

“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”

“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.

“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.

“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.

You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.

⧗

You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.

You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.

With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.

There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”

“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.

“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.

“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.

“I love you so much, ‘ma!”

Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.

“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.

As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.

“I missed you so much, mom.”

“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.

“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”

“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.

“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.

The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.

And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.

“Mom, this is Natasha.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alba's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The aftermath

*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*

It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.

You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.

You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.

You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.

It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.

She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.

There's no answer.

"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"

Still silence.

"One! Two!"

Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.

She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.

You're not there though.

Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.

There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.

Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.

She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.

"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"

"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"

That's odd.

Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.

She shuffles through the papers on your desk.

Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.

You must be wanting to take them with you.

It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.

She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.

You've not come home.

She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.

She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.

You are nowhere.

She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.

She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.

It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.

The call comes in the evening.

It's Alba.

"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"

"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."

"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"

"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."

"Alba, what is going on?"

"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."

In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.

It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.

It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.

It's even worse for a mother to see.

A picture goes up at the ballet company.

(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).

It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.

'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.

Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.

(Alexia has never been to a performance once).

Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.

Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.

She can't remember them.

She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.

There is a gap in her memory from that moment.

Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.

You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.

Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.

She loved you. She loved you so much.

Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.

The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.

The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.

She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.

She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.

She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.

Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.

Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.

It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.

It was you.

You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.

Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.

You thought that this path was better than returning home.

You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.

People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.

She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.

Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.

Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.

Your things are gone.

You are gone.

And Alexia will never know why.

[midday-clouds]

Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II

Part I

Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!

CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood

You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven

Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax

You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out

It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there

Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible

It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.

But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.

Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?

A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing

You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 

The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 

But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.

It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.

Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 

He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.

Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook

Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 

You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 

But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.

With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 

It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows

Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 

No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.

Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.

The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.

Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your

Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you

You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.

You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path

Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.

Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.

You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 

Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.

Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night

Nightwing sighs as he handcuffs the thief. He went a lot harder than he expected but how can you blame him? His family was in danger and he needed to do everything to make sure it doesn’t happen again

The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.

Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well

The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea

You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 

Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there

Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least

Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say

Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.

Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags

Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.

It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.

Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you

Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven

You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home

[mochinomnoms]

Imagine asking the jade and/or floyd to go swimming. Or while they are swimming you just join them. Now the eel twins keep imagining a future with you cause apparently moray eels do synchronized swimming with their mates. Just to add to the chaos you will probably be non the wiser to the deeper meaning of their careless actions.

I think it's especially funny if one twin is doing the "dance" with you while the other is on the other side of the water, watching with a knowing look.

The real question is how do they proceed to bully their brother over it?

Floyd

The obvious option for Floyd is to have him be very blunt and loud in his teasing, but I offer a different idea. You have no clue what the significance of the dance is, for all you know it's just Jade playing around! And Floyd just wants to play!

"You don't mind if I dance with them too, right Jaaaade?"

Floyd doesn't even wait for him to answer as he swipes your hand and spins you around him in the water. It's quite fun, but if you pay attention, Floyd is still keeping a rather wide berth of room between you two. Compared to Jade, who was twirling with you held close to him, it's practically conservative! Fortunately for him, he's good at hiding his frustration, so you can't really tell he's bothered until Floyd gets just a bit too close. This makes Jade quickly and smoothly snatches you back into his arms and far away from his annoying brother. >:(

Jade

Jade is just a bit meaner than his brother, as he's more than happy to make little comments about Floyd as he dances with you. He just lives to prod at Floyd just to see how long it takes for him to either throw hands or decide he's now bored because Jade wouldn't stop bothering him.

"Oya, getting rather touchy aren't we Floyd? Should I be informing mother about a new addition to the family?"

Floyd nonstop smacks with the tip of his tail do nothing to deter him as Jade follows you two, still making pointed remarks. First, he mentions if his brother would prefer privacy. Then he asks you if you ever had a chance to learn more about mer culture. You're confused as to why Jade is mentioning courting practices, but have no chance to ask him what he's talking about before Floyd is throwing himself at Jade and beating his ass.

[fairyhaos]

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek. 

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes. 

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come. 

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have. 

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved. 

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent. 

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face. 

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs. 

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow. 

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you. 

He isn't. 

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

 Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile. 

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself. 

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you. 

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

[lulunothulu]

Loovveee your writing. 😍 Would you be able to write where reader and Tyler are married and he’s out running errands when he gets notified from her Apple Watch that she’s taken a hard fall because she was thrown from a horse and 911 was called so he drives as quick as he can home to her driving through their gate trying to get to her faster and she’s unconscious and bleeding from a cut on her head and just worried husband vibes until she wakes up and is fine 💙

Oooo I love this. I gotchu boo 🤠 and thank youuuu I’m so sorry this is late 💗

“Don’t worry”

Tyler Owens x Reader

“Let me check the list because if I miss something, my wife is gonna have a fit.” Tyler laughs, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket.

He’d been tasked by you with getting groceries and knew you were particular about what kind of apples you liked.

When he finally pulls the list out, he hands it to the worker before him who smiles and points him to the section where the honey crisp apples are.

“Thank you!” He calls out, steering the buggy toward the section and grabbing a plastic bag to collect the four apples you wanted.

He’s about to put the last apple in the bag when he gets a notification from your AppleWatch.

‘My Wife 💗’ has fallen and their breathing has slowed down significantly. 9-1-1 has been called and they are 10 minutes out.

Tyler’s heart stops.

Within seconds, his legs are moving, sprinting out of the store the buggy full of groceries left behind.

He’ll come back another time. Right now, he had to get to his wife. He had to get to you.

He knew he was only five minutes away, but he let his foot hit the accelerator. Anything to get to you quicker.

When he finally—painstakingly—arrives at y’all’s house, your horse, Sugar, is galloping around the front yard, neighing happily to herself. He reaches for her, gently pulling her close.

“Where is she?” He asks her. He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he jogs to the training ring to the right of the house where he finds your lifeless body.

He sprints at the sight of you, fear taking over all of his thoughts and he brushes the random strands of hair covering your face.

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “Oh my god. Baby? Can you hear me?”

He checks your pulse.

Good, steady but kind of weak.

Your breathing is slow, almost too slow for his taste. Your face is relaxed in unconsciousness and there’s a pretty bad gash on your forehead and the back of your head.

Tyler knows not to move you so he holds your hand, waiting and praying that the ambulance hurries.

The next five minutes feel like hours but the paramedics finally arrive.

“I think she fell and hit her head on the ground or a rock,” Tyler tells them.

He watches from the side as they take your vitals and get you ready to transfer to the ER.

“Do you want to ride with her?” One of the paramedics asks.

“No, I’ll follow behind in my truck,” he tells them.

———

At the hospital, Tyler looks down at you from his standing position next to your bed.

How could this have happened? When is she gonna wake up?

He rubs his eyes, checking his watch again to see that it’s almost 10 PM. he’s been here for the past few hours, waiting for you to wake up.

Unfortunately, for him, the doctor said that it might take a bit for you to wake up, especially because of the fall you took.

“She’ll wake up when she’s ready,” they said.

“When?” He’d asked.

“Within a few hours. She has a concussion so she needs to rest as much as she can.”

The waiting was the hardest part for him. He hated just standing around. He needed to do something, anything to make sure you were okay, to help you wake up. Worry begins to eat at him the longer he stays in the hospital room with you so Tyler decided it would be best to go to the cafeteria.

Only when he’s about to walk out the door, he hears you groan.

“Tyler?”

“Baby,” he cries, running back to your side. He takes your hand in his, kissing each knuckles before smiling down at you with happy tears stuck in his eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Am I in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” he tells you, wiping his eyes. “What happened?”

“I was trying to give Sugar a little test run before the next race and she got spooked by a garden snake,” you recount. “I must’ve hit my head on a rock or something.”

“You did,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You look up into his green eyes and smile softly. Placing your hand on his cheek, you pull him down to kiss you.

The kiss is sweet and tender, something Tyler didn’t know he knew he needed until then.

“I love you, Ty,” you tell him.

“I love you too, Baby,” he hiccups, tears freely falling now. “You really did scare me. I didn’t know if you would be okay. If you’d d—”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence. Instead, he smiles down at you and kisses you again.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says instead.

“I am too,” you tell him. Then, smirking a bit, you add, “I would be pretty pissed if I died from falling off a horse.”

Tyler laughs at that. “I would be too.”

“When can I eat? And when can I leave?” You ask. “But most importantly, when can I eat?”

“Doctors said he wanted to keep you overnight,” he tells you. “I can get you something to eat if you want.”

“Okay, as long as it’s something filling. I have t eaten since… what time is it?”

“10:30 PM,” he tells you.

“Jesus Christ, since 8 AM this morning,” you marvel.

Tyler laughs, pecking your lips before standing. “I’ll get you a nice fat sandwich.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You watch as he walks away before saying, “And Tyler?”

He turns around. “Yes baby?”

“Walk slower, your ass looks really nice in those jeans.”

Tyler only laughs and obeys as he walks out the door.

[d3stinyist1red]

GIRLIE, YANDERE OLDER MAFIA BOSS!!(TAKE YOUR TIME IF YOU HAVE OTHER REQUESTSSSS!!💗)

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ʙᴏss x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yan mafia boss who you work under, with him being your boss and your his right hand woman

yan mafia boss who treats you like you own him, following with whatever you say

yan mafia boss who doesnt like any medics touching him, wanting you to be one treating him

The medic was standing in front of him, clearly fearful for her life bc the man in front of her could kill her if she did the slight mistake. She tried to pat and help the wounds of the Mafia boss who smacked her hand away and huffed.

"Bring me my n/n, now." He said glaring at her as she quickly nodded, basically running to you. She told you about how he refused to let her help and touch him as you sighed. You rubbed your temple before nodding and smiling at her.

"Don't worry, Ill deal with him." You said politely, nodding at her before walking past her, going to the room where he was at. You opened the door and you saw the way his eyes lit up, and a grin landed on his usually nonchalant face. "Love!" He said, as you walked up to him.

"Why are always acting so stubborn to the medics? You know that they're there to help you, idiot." You said clearly irritated, making him pout and tilt his head. "But, I want you to help me!!...and have your hands all over my body..." He whined, grabbing your hand and resting it on his cheek, looking up at you with hearts in his eyes.

yan mafia boss who has to always be in constant contact with you

ʏ/ɴsᴅ𝟷ᴅɪᴄᴋʀɪᴅᴇʀ!

n/nnn

where are uuuuu

n/nnnnn

n/nnnn

...?

...

...

no reply?

Have other hoes?

YOU DO DONT YOU?!!!?!?!!?

i hate u.

You getting blocked.

dont talk to me. I know you hate me.

Okay, im going to kill my self.

...?

....

...

This is (yans name, yall could make sum up) cat, he just shot himself

do you love him

...

...?

baby you know that was all a prank

i love u

pls let me eat ur ass

i wanna slurp ur kitty so good that the only thing i could taste is u mami

(seen 1 min ago)

ʏ/ɴsᴅ𝟷ᴅɪᴄᴋʀɪᴅᴇʀ!

ur rlly gonna leave me on seen?

ur lucky i dont come and cream all over ur face rn

pls touch me

yan mafia boss who has his bodyguards protect you no matter where you go

"Okat sigma 1, hawk tuah, ohio go protect n/n, you better fucking protect her with your life, ya hear?!" He said to his bodygaurds aggressively, scowling them down as they shook in fear,....i think one of them peed their pants...erm!

yan mafia boss who is madly jealous, putting a bullet into anyone's head he sees as threat for your love.

yan mafia boss who when you arent around, he struggles to sleep. He tosses and turns, his mind racing with scenarios about what they might be doing or who they’re with. "is she with that ugly bitch from work again?! Is she with one of my bodyguards?! Is she cheating on me?!" He hiccuped through his sobs, biting on his nails, hair all messy from tossing and turning throughout his sleep

He often wakes up in a cold sweat, feeling empty without them next to him. If you spends the night somewhere else, he'll start spamming you on everything even roblox.. If you dont answer within 5 mins, he immediately sends his men to try to find you, and paces around his house, restless waiting for your reply. bruh u were js buying sum takis...

yan mafia boss who is your boss who favors you a little too much!!! <333

IM PROB GONNA UPDATE SOME MORE ON TUMBLR BUT IM STILL ON BREAK ON WATTPAD CUZ I LOST MY GOD DAMN PHONEEE

SORRY IF THIS IS SHORT I DIDNT RLLY KNOW WHAT TO DO FOR MAFIA BOSS YAN

[luveline]

hii 🤍 i miss spencer, amanda and reader 🥺 when will reader and spencer finally kiss?? hahahah

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.2k

Amanda’s dad has a girlfriend with a kind mouth that curls in smiles, like seeing her is the one thing you’ve waited for all day. You have slow hands: your fingers ease through Amy’s hair one strand at a time, warm, but somehow shivers race down her spine whenever you touch her. You’re like her dad, in that you kiss her cheek before bed or hug her with one arm. You’re a gentle touch whenever Amy wants it. You and Spencer are both enthusiastically tactile. 

What Amy doesn’t understand is why you and her dad never seem to kiss. Amy isn’t sure if she wants to see it. She hasn’t thought of it in depth, just knows that you and Spencer are both grown ups who love one another —Spencer looks to you in every room, his eyes squinting against the sight of you like you’re some star, a sun, bright and blistering and too beautiful to look away. It’s like a movie. Plus, Amy wants a stepmom. Paula from school has one and she says it’s awesome. 

“Dad?” 

“Yeah?” Spencer’s voice echoes, head deep inside a cabinet looking for a can of evaporated milk. “We don’t buy enough canned stuff. We’d be screwed in the apocalypse.” 

“I like fresh.” 

“Of course you do. You’re brilliant.” 

“Brilliant,” you echo, legs swinging against the cabinet behind your legs. You hold the door to prevent Spencer’s likely head injury. 

“Dad?” Amy asks again. 

He pulls his head from the empty cabinet to appease her. “I know, I’m looking for the hot cocoa powder.” 

“That’s not what I want to ask.” 

“Oh. Well, what do you want from me, angel?” 

You choose that moment to hop down off of the counter top, phone in hand. “I’ll be right back,” you promise, leaving with no further explanation. 

It’s good timing. Amy crowds her dad to look up at him, a reflection of her brown eyes peering down at her curiously. He cups the back of her head. “What, Amy?” he asks. 

He says her name nicely, too. Amy is bathed in love, all the time, but it never gets any less warming. She wraps her arms around his thighs and rubs her nose against his stomach, cuddling into him. 

He’s patient, but not unaware. “What do you want, beautiful?” he murmurs, fingers scratching gently up his scalp and through her hair, soft ends of it fluttering down onto her shoulders. He repeats the motion. “I’m listening.” 

“Why don’t you and Y/N ever kiss?” 

He laughs softly. “Why are you asking me a question like that?” 

“You’re boyfriend and girlfriend, but you don’t kiss or anything. Do you?” 

Spencer holds her face, more fingers in her hair than anything on account of her small head. “No, we don’t kiss,” he says, like it’s a secret, but a good one. Amy’s confused squinting makes him laugh again. “Um… just, it’s not easy to explain, but we’re taking things slowly. That means that we like one another, but we’re not rushing to do things we aren’t ready for.” 

“You’re not ready to kiss her?” Amy asks. 

“Maybe not.” Spencer doesn’t share that you aren’t completely ready either, far as he’s aware. This is a big thing for both of you, months of deep pining, a fragility. “It’s not because I don’t want to.” 

“She’s really pretty. I think you should hurry, just in case someone else likes her.” 

Spencer hugs her to his tummy and gives her a squeeze. “She’s beautiful like someone else I know. And I will kiss her, I’m waiting for the right time.” 

Amy forgets about what she’d been asking after that, charmed and then ferried to her room to get dressed. We’ll have to go out for cocoa, Spencer had said, bundling her in a big coat. You were all to happy to put your shoes on and join them, Spencer’s borrowed scarf shielding your neck and jaw, your nose quickly sniffly against the cold. 

Amy takes your hand on the way into the cafe and savours the warmth of it. She will need to concoct the right time, she decides, for her dad to kiss you, if only so she can be a flower girl at your wedding. If you get married (if your wedding ceremony even has flower girls). She’s just thinking maybe she’ll be the maid of honour when you push out a chair for her. She settles in, wondering if you’d like flowers, what sort of clothes you’d wear, if you’d come live with them in the apartment, sipping at a procured, thick hot chocolate while you and Spencer chat. 

“Half?” he asks, knife poised over a pastry. 

“I already ate all mine.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” He cuts the pastry in half and offers it to you, a red and golden brown mini pie, fruit glistening in its jelly, flaky salt on the top that tumbles off the edges as he passes it to you. “Here.” 

You take a big bite. You smile so much you can hardly chew. 

Spencer stares at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing, nothing.”

You have fruit on your lip. Your genuine puzzlement is all the more enticing: how is Spencer supposed to look away? He hooks his ankle around a leg from your chair and draws closer. 

“You know, I heard you earlier.” 

“When?” he asks. 

“Before we left. You were telling Amy that you think I’m pretty.”

“No, Amy said pretty, I said beautiful. I should’ve said perfect.” 

“That so?” you tease.

Spencer has to wonder what’s beneath it. Kiss me, kiss me. Lean over and do it, Reid. Or if he hears what he wants from your lilting mouth. “I’m sure there’s a hundred words I should’ve said.”

“You don’t have to say anything else,” you say decidedly, your hands falling to his knee, “that’s enough flattery for today.” 

“Is it?” 

“You sound entirely genuine,” you say, voice turning soft now, a padded thing to think about later. 

“I am,” he says. Simply, and hopelessly, leaning in to breathe the same air. 

“Is now the right time?” you whisper. 

“You heard that?” he asks back. 

“I’m ready whenever you’re ready.” 

Spencer chances a glance at Amy where she’s ripping at the paper sleeve on her hot chocolate before he holds your arm to kiss you. A chaste, brushing touch, pressure of a butterfly’s wing at first and then marginally firmer. He kisses you, and he pulls away just as your bringing your hand to his cheek. 

“Was that okay?” he asks. 

“Very princely.” 

“So you're getting married, right?” Amy butts in, her smile a thousand watts. “Yes? Can I choose the flowers? Can we go on a honeymoon?” 

Spencer flushes at the idea of Amy seeing him, but then he feels sick thinking about such a short first kiss, covering the side of your face with his hand to occlude his lips as he moves in and gives you another. 

“Dad, one was enough.” Amy’s concern is grouching, and it makes you laugh against his mouth. 

You both pull away. “Sorry, Amy,” Spencer says, “but you did tell me to hurry up.” 

“Yikes. Can I have some pie?” 

Spencer hands her his uneaten half. You search for his hand under the table. 

[heavyhitterheaux]

Sink or Swim (NSFW)

AN: Joe girlies I have returned!

Synopsis: After the devastating loss to the Commanders, you knew that a bad mood would be evident with your boyfriend. So his idea of forgetting what happened at least for a few hours has to do with giving you his undivided attention

Requested by @a-moment-captured 💕

DO NOT ENGAGE IF UNDERAGE

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

There was a look of disbelief on your face as you watched the scene unfold in front of you and saw that the game was almost over when the two minute warning was indicated. The first two weeks in the season obviously had your boyfriend Joe upset and for good reason. But to see the high hopes that he had going into week three just get shot down hurt to watch.

On the sidelines you could see his helmet being thrown as he eventually sat down and the expression on his face was one that you couldn't quite read.

Pulling out your phone, you sent him a quick text knowing that he would read it when he got back to the locker room.

You- Still so proud of you bubs. You played amazing tonight and don't let anyone tell you otherwise 💕

Sighing to yourself, you stood up and began to make your exit out of the stadium to start making your way back to Joe’s condo. It was discussed earlier in the day when you had talked to Joe that you would come over right after the game in anticipation of celebrating with him, but now you weren't so sure if he would even want to be in the mood to have anyone around him right now. After he lost a game, he would understandably get into a mood but you had a feeling that tonight would be a lot worse and more than likely because of who he is, he would be blaming himself.

Climbing into your jeep, you had the radio on a low volume as you pulled out of the stadium parking lot and onto the highway. Joe didn't live very far from the stadium which you were thankful for and leaving before the game was over allowed you to beat some of the traffic that you knew would quickly come after.

Arriving in less than twenty minutes, you turned your car off before grabbing your bag and making your way inside. Your shoes got slipped off at the door as you made your way into the kitchen to find something to snack on since the mozzarella sticks you had at the game were only going to last you but so long.

Glancing at the clock, you noticed it wasn't too late to order a pizza seeing as Joe probably needed some comfort food. You opened up your DoorDash app and quickly ordered it while you waited for Joe to get there. Another 45 minutes had passed with the pizza being kept warm in the oven and you sitting on the couch re-watching Scandal when you heard his key in the door. Once it was opened, it was quickly slammed shut making you jump and the sound was quickly followed by him throwing his bag on the floor at his feet and hearing him sigh.

Still in your jersey from the game that had your boyfriend's name on the back of it, you got up to greet him by the door. His expression was still unreadable when you stood in front of him and slowly tried to take his hands into yours, but he moved away at the last second.

“Bubs….”

Joe didn’t even bother to respond to you as his eyes were closed and he was leaning back against the door.

“What do you need me to do?” You softly asked as you kissed the side of his mouth, trying to get an answer out of him.

When he finally opened his eyes and glanced down at you, his eyes had softened but only slightly as he saw the love of his life in front of him.

“Get upstairs and strip.”

“Mm, gladly. Your wish is my command.”

Nodding your head towards him, he then turned you around to face the stairs as you slowly walked over towards them. Your foot was on the first step when you heard his voice once more.

“You have two minutes to do what I told you, so I suggest you get a move on before I put you there myself.”

Hearing this made a river form in between your thighs and you loved how dominant he could get when the two of you were by yourselves. That happened to be the only good thing that would come out of him losing a game. If this is what he needed to help him get through it, the last thing that you were ever going to do was complain.

Reaching the last step, you still heard him moving around downstairs before you swung the door open to his bedroom which had been left ajar before he left for the game earlier.

Your clothes were then taken off slowly one by one in the hopes of Joe walking in and seeing you. Your shoes had already been thrown off at the door downstairs, the next thing to come off was your jeans that hugged your curves that he loved so much. Next was his jersey and the shirt that you were wearing underneath it in case you got cold. You had started to take off your bra next when you suddenly felt him behind you making you jump. You hadn’t heard him come in as he wrapped his arms around you before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought I told you to strip? So, why are you still wearing clothes? You like disobeying me?” He asked you before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“No, I was….”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. Do as you’re told the first time so I don’t have to punish you. Now get the rest of those clothes off.” He told you as a light smack was felt across your ass.

You nodded your head and your bra as well as your black thong were quickly removed from your body and discarded onto the floor all while Joe was standing behind you watching you intensely. Once you were finished, he leaned down to your ear once more before he reached around to put two of his fingers up to your mouth that you slowly started to suck on before reaching down and rubbing small circles along your clit making you gasp.

“Mmm, look how wet my baby is. This all for me?” You nodded your head to answer his question because you knew that words were going to fail to come out of your mouth.

“Get on the bed and you better not make a sound unless I fucking tell you to. Face down, ass up.”

Walking over to the bed once Joe moved his fingers away from your core, you slowly got on the bed with the help of him since the bed was so high and crawled to the top of it as you rested your head down on your arms with your ass sticking high up in the air on display for him.

You could hear Joe behind you doing away with his clothes and in a matter of seconds you felt him crawl onto the bed and roughly grab a hold of your hips before slowly entering you and bottoming out as he threw his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

It took everything in you not to let out a gasp and simply put your hand over your mouth as you felt him move out of you before he slammed back in.

His movements were intense and sloppy of course with him letting out his frustrations as you were doing your best to keep quiet. The more he pounded into you, the harder it was becoming and knew that being quiet would only last but so long.

You could feel yourself getting closer to reaching your peak and you soon felt Joe reach underneath of you to massage your clit as he continued to pound into you. This sent you over the edge and you couldn’t help but to let out a small moan but immediately put your hand back over your mouth. But the damage was already done and you tug knew that you would soon be in for it.

“Oooh fuck.”

Hearing this, Joe immediately flipped you over and a hand immediately went around your neck with him squeezing it.

“Did I tell you to fucking speak? I don’t think I did.”

You remained quiet as he let go of your neck as he trailed kisses along it and down your chest with him placing one of your nipples into his mouth as he was rolling the other one between his fingers. It was taking everything in you to stay quiet as your back arched up off of the mattress. His fingers moved on from playing with your nipple to insert two of them into you as he continued to suck on the other one.

Joe noticed that you were squirming and he took it as a sign that you were close and probably frustrated because he told you not to say anything.

“You close baby? I can tell.”

To answer him, you nodded your head as he added another finger making you gasp. His fingers were pumping in and out of you when he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue knowing that it was a matter of seconds before you would come undone in front of him.

“Shiiit!” You couldn’t help but to let out as your hands were directly to his hair to pull him closer to you.

At this point, your legs were wrapped around his neck as he began to suck on your clit making them shake the harder that he did.

“Baby…. I’m….” You started to say, but without warning a gush of liquid was now covering Joe’s face as he was still sucking on your clit making you squirm.

“That’s my good girl. Give me another one, baby. I know you can.”

You immediately shook your head no, but it was clear that Joe didn’t care since he went right back to sucking on your clit. After you squirted all over his face once more, he quickly crawled back up your body as he inserted himself into you.

His movements were more sloppy than before indicating that he was close as he put your legs onto his shoulders as you began to rub your clit.

You had reached your peak for the third time when you felt Joe slide out of you. Knowing what that meant, you immediately sat up and took him in your mouth as you tasted his cum hitting the back of your throat.

“That’s my pretty girl. You better swallow it and not waste a drop.”

Joe had now put your hair in a makeshift ponytail to get it out of the way since he remembered you one time promptly yelling at him when his cum had gotten in your hair after you had gotten it done just hours before.

Once you swallowed everything that didn’t leak out the side of your mouth, you promptly opened it to show Joe who then leaned down to place several kisses on your lips. Once you had laid back, Joe quickly followed suit with him laying on you as you held him tightly to your chest. It was quiet for a few minutes as both of you were trying to even your breathing when he finally spoke.

“We should have won.”

“I know.”

“And even though it wasn’t my fucking fault, I’m going to get the blame for it.”

“I know.”

“We’re 0 and 3 now and I don’t know what to fucking do.”

“The only thing you can do is to go out there and do your best. You played absolutely amazing tonight so this isn’t on you in the slightest even though people will put it on you anyway. I am still so proud of you and I’m always going to be proud of you.” You told him as you placed a kiss on top of his head.

“Proud of a loser boyfriend who can’t win an NFL game?”

“Joseph… talk about yourself like that again. I dare you. Just because you have a few setbacks doesn’t mean that it’s going to be like this forever. I will let you rant all you want tonight, but tomorrow I’m not having it. You are literally the highest paid quarterback in the NFL and you need to fucking act like it.”

“I... guess you’re right.”

“I know I'm right. It's only been three weeks. There's still time to turn this around for the better and I promise to be here through all of it. But did I perform my duties as your girlfriend to help you let your frustrations out?” You asked and he immediately smirked.

“You did more than help me through it, but I definitely didn't say that we were done.” He told you as he picked his head up off of your chest to look at you.

“Wait, what?”

“Switch places with me so you can ride me.”

Taglist

@a-moment-captured

@hoodharlow

@nattinatalia

@wickedfun9

@dandelionwrites8

@keiva1000

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader New

Synopsis: Everything between you and Ser Aemond was now new, but always natural. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond and Princess Secret Relationship, Fluff PREVIOUS PART

You tasted like the berries you had during tea time. So sweet. Aemond never cared for sweets; he found them too addicting, so he had managed to control himself when consuming them. However, with you, gods— he didn’t think he could ever have enough. Was it too soon to say he was addicted? By just one taste of you, he was certain he could never live without it. Now that his lips had known the pressure of yours— now that he had known your taste; he could never go back to simply wondering and dreaming about it. With just one taste, you had made him a man obsessed. 

Aemond ignored all his sensibilities and cupped your cheek, deepening your kiss— pulling you impossibly closer to him and seemingly never wanting to let you go; how could he? When he felt your soft, plush lips stagger, Aemond knew he must part for you to catch your breath, controlling himself even though he wanted to keep your lips against his. He opened his eye, the image of your parted, swollen lips— your flushed face and wide eyes forever engraved in his memory. You were not his first kiss, and he cursed himself as to why he had sullied his lips with others when, all the while, yours were waiting for him. 

“Oh gods…” you said in shock as to what you had done. You could not even look into Ser Aemond’s eye— too scared of what his reaction would be. Indeed, he was scandalized— perplexed at what you had done. You had crossed all boundaries— you had passed the point of no return, and though you yourself had no wish to go back— there was no regret; you knew your knight, who would forever hold himself in his duty would not take your actions well. “I…I’m sorry,” You say,  discombobulated; you did not even wait for his reply, for you quickly ran away, leaving your knight confused and flushed.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” You muttered as you entered your chambers, humiliated and ashamed for what you had done. You covered your face with your hands, the feel and taste of your knight still prominent on your lips. He tasted like mint and a bitterness you did not mind. You breathed heavily as you heard the clank of his armor from the other side of the door. You bit your lip, already deciding in yourself that you would hide in your chambers once more, unwilling to face the consequences of your actions. 

Aemond stood at his post, knees weak as his mind recalled your kiss. He turned towards the door, having the urge to enter your chambers and confront you. How could you just kiss him and run? Had he done something wrong? Perhaps you did not enjoy it as much as he did, or maybe he accidentally bit your lip? He did not know anymore. All he knew was this was the first time his body had reacted to such a kiss, and he could only hope that you felt the same. 

When night came, you had not left your chambers. Aemond could barely hear you. Usually, he would hear you speaking to yourself or Theodore, but not once had he heard a word leave your lips; the only indication that you were still there were your quiet footsteps as you paced around your chambers. 

As Aemond thought about your actions once more, he began to wonder what had led you to do such a thing. Why would you kiss him? What was the reason for you to bestow upon him your first kiss? There was just one apparent reason he could think of. You kissed him because you wanted to. You kissed him because you wanted him. Aemond was left overwhelmed with such a line of reasoning. Had you fallen for him as he had fallen for you? Did you truly want him as much as he wanted you? Aemond sighed heavily, his mind running and jumping to conclusions that had no concrete explanation— but he convinced himself that your kiss was a reason enough for him to believe— to hope that you held affection for him as well.

You paced in your room, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as you tried to think of a way to proceed. Surely, Ser Aemond would want to be removed from his station— that he cannot be your sworn protector after you had shown such actions that crossed all boundaries. You paled at the thought. You did not think of the consequences! You have no wish for Ser Aemond to leave your side, but what else could he do after you had kissed him? You had placed his station at peril, and you had laid yourself to scandal. When a knock sounded out, you paled as the knock was the familiar pattern of your knight’s. You stayed silent and held your breath, hoping he would think you were already abed.

“I can see your shadow by the door, princess,” You hear his muffled voice declare, and you quietly groan as you have no escape. You breathed in heavy breaths as you gathered all your courage to speak, “C… co— come in,” You squeaked, and Ser Aemond slowly entered your chambers. There was a tense moment of silence that was then broken by your rambling and profusely apologizing for your actions. “I’m sorry! I…I think I was going crazy— and… and I had no intention of offending you an—“ Aemond pursed his lips, a wide smile wanting to escape as you went on and on with your apologies, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as your hands moved with each of the multitude words that left your lips. 

“I’m sorry! I— please, you don’t have to leave your station… no one needs to know what had happened. And I swear it would never happe—“ Aemond shook his head and captured your lips before you could finish your sentence because he would never forgive himself if you made such promises. You were taken by shock for a moment as you felt his thin lips against yours again, but as he cupped your cheek, you turned lax and let out a sigh as your eyes fluttered to a close. Was it too soon that you were already addicted to his lips? You always thought that your favorite thing would be tasting the sugar on your lips each time you had your little sweet treats, but by just the second taste of Ser Aemond, you knew it had been dethroned— nothing could compare to him. 

When your lips parted, you looked upon him in shock and confusion, your mind trying to find an answer as to why he would kiss you, and there was only one answer you could think of. You breathed in a shallow breath, “Do you… do you like me as well?” You questioned, fearing the answer as there was a possibility he could say no. 

Aemond smiled and tucked in a loose lock of your hair, letting his fingers brush your soft, warm cheek. “It’s impossible not to,” he whispered softly, watching as the scarlet on your cheeks turned maroon. “Really?” You asked in disbelief as you still thought your affections for him were unrequited. “Why?” You could not help but ask— still finding it hard to believe that he would be attracted to you as well, especially as he had seen you in all of your states. “Why?” Aemond breathed out a laugh as his other hand cupped your cheek as well. “Oh, princess… because you are kind and genuine— you are selfless and caring— because… you are you— that is reason enough for me.” You bit the insides of your cheeks as you had no words— your insides were overwhelmed with further affection for Ser Aemond that all you could do was kiss again.

“You know, I really tried not to like you— but it truly is impossible,” He added as your lips parted, a smile on his lips as you circled your arms around his neck. Your lips agape at his confession. “Was that why you were so mean to me before?!” You gasped as you had thought it was your fault— that you had done something that made your knight hold such bitterness. Aemond only shrugged, “Now I’m starting to wonder why I like you,” you muttered in tease, and Aemond chuckled, pinching your side in tease as well. You laughed and pressed yourself further upon his frame, his hold on your cheeks lowering to your waist. “What now?” You asked after a short moment of silence, savoring the way he held you. “Nothing— we just stay as we are, by each other’s side,” He said and placed a kiss on the top of your head as you let him hold you for a few moments more. 

You breathed in deeply. You have always wondered about this day— when you would finally find someone you would want. You imagined that there would be great anticipation— fireworks accompanied by the loudness of the world, the erratic beating of your heart— and your nerves consuming you. You thought you would finally get that confession during a rainstorm or a heated argument; nothing about how this had all transpired. Everything was calm with Ser Aemond— almost anti-climactic, and you knew you would prefer stillness more than uproar. His love was silent, and you would gladly listen for it. 

“What did you do last night?” You almost choked on your tea as your brother asked the question. You blinked for a moment, resisting to look upon your knight whose lips had met yours countless times last night. “Uh… I was tired. I went straight to bed,” You lied, feeling an inkling of guilt as you were not accustomed to offering your brother full lies— you’d often fib but never lie. “Oh, well, you do look rested— though a bit flushed,” Your brother shrugged and went on with his meal. You sat quietly, trying to reign in the blush on your cheeks and the smile that wanted to slip your lips as your mind kept replaying the scenes with Aemond (He insisted you called him without titles when it was only the two of you.) holding you and kissing your lips. 

“When did you realize you liked me?” You suddenly questioned when it was only you and Aemond in the gardens. You hear him cough, seemingly caught off guard by your question. You smiled widely as you turned to face him, a pinkness in the tip of his ears that you would consider his version of a blush. “Uh…I don’t— I’m not quite certain,” He said, genuinely uncertain. He could recall the exact moment when he realized he had fallen for you but not the moment you questioned, which led him to think, when did he exactly start to like you? He could recall his first days, trying impeccably hard to dislike you, to hold animosity that was not backed by any support to dislike you— but he could not remember the exact moment when he finally started to let go of that forced animosity. 

You hummed and nodded, no longer prying and forcing him to think about your question. “And you? When did you realize that you were harboring feelings for your knight?” He returned the question, biting the insides of his cheek at how quickly a blush came to your face. He moved from his station behind you and stood to where you looked ahead, enjoying further the image of you sitting on your chair in the gardens, the flowers that surround you making you look more ethereal in his eyes.

“Your night off,” You answered, watching as Aemond frowned in confusion. You’ve always liked— you’ve liked him for the longest time, but not until recently did you realize that you loved him, an emotion so great that you could not yet share with him. “What?” Aemond questioned, surprised as you knew the exact moment. You shrugged, “I uh… I know I said I sneaked off into the city to watch a show— and that is true, yes, but… I was hoping to run into you, in which I did.” You smiled as the pinkness on the tips of his ears furthered. Aemond bit his lip and looked around the gardens, his heartbeat spreading throughout his whole body at your confession. “So you have been pinning for me this whole time?” He asked quietly, a further feeling of affection for you surging through him. “As if you haven’t,” You retaliated, twiddling with your fingers as you felt your stomach flip when Aemond breathed out a laugh and nodded slowly. 

You parted your lips to ask another question, enamored with the idea that both you and Aemond had been longing and yearning for each other but had stayed silent until either of you could deny your attraction, but the sound of a cat’s whine caught your attention. You frowned as you thought it was Theodore, but you had left him sleeping in your chambers. You sat straighter and saw a ball of white fur by the foot of your knight, the feline nuzzling its face on your knight's leg as it purred. “Look! A kitten! Pick it up,” You said to Ser Aemond as you as well stood in excitement. Aemond looked upon it warily, not certain how to react as he was accustomed to Theodore’s animosity and indifference towards him. Aemond slowly did as you told, and you huddled by his side to have a clearer view of the cat with white fur and sapphire-like eyes. You gently petted its head and assessed it for its gender whilst in the stiff arms of Aemond. 

“Aww… she likes you! I feared that cats are indifferent to you, seeing how you interact with Theodore,” You mumbled and scratched the head of the feline that just appeared. “We should keep her,” You said as Aemond’s arms were growing tired at how he held the cat an arm’s length away from him. “We should?” He questioned as the cat stared at him. “Yes! She clearly likes you!” You said, and the feline only meowed as you took her in your arms as you sensed Aemond was growing uncomfortable. “What should we name her?” You questioned and returned to your seat and set the cat on the table, offering her some berries in your hands that she readily nibbled upon. 

“I… I don’t know,” He muttered, mesmerized by you, who petted the feline with so much love and adoration, though you had only met it. “Surely you have a name that you like! Come now, name her!” You urged and turned to Aemond, who could only stare. He was drawing a blank— the only name he truly liked was yours and perhaps Seraphina, the name you planned to give your future daughter, but other than that, he could not think of anything. “I’m not good with naming, princess,” He said quietly as passersby started to appear. You pouted and continued to pet the cat, thinking of a name that would match Theodore’s. “Hm… what about Sapphira? Her eyes look like sapphires, do they not?” You asked, hoping your knight would agree. Aemond felt a small smile twitch on his lips as you looked upon him expectantly, “Then Sapphira it is,” He agreed, grateful to witness as a wide smile come to your face. 

“Go on, play with her,” You urged Theodore as you returned to your chambers to have the two cats acquainted. Aemond stood by the door and observed you earnestly try to make both of the cats play with one another. However, Theodore only rested on your lap, staring at Sapphira, who played with a ball of yarn with indifference. “Theo, come now, we got you a playmate!” You say, talking to the cat as if it were an actual human being. You turned to Ser Aemond, and at the mention of him, Theodore suddenly hissed, surprising you. “That’s quite rude,” You chastised your cat but still soothingly brushed his fur. “I still do not know why Theodore does not like you, but Sapphira was quickly taken by you,” You say, and Aemond tensed, the memory of what he did for Theodore to dislike him replaying in his mind. 

Aemond stared down as Sapphira came to him, urging him to join you in the sitting area where you sat. You smiled as Aemond threaded closer to you, moving from where you sat to make room for Ser Aemond. You smiled as Theodore was in your lap, and Sapphira jumped onto Aemond’s. You glanced about the room and saw the reflection of the two of you in a mirror. Sat next to each other with cats on your laps, the damned gap between dissolved, and you hoped you would never appear again. 

“Aemond,” you called as he cautiously petted the fur of Sapphira. “Yes, princess?” He asked, turning to you. “I uh… I really like you,” You confessed the obvious. A blush once again creeps up to your cheeks. Aemond bit his lip, feeling like a boy again, which was odd because he didn’t think he ever felt like a boy, but you had that effect on him. “Good. But you must know that I like you more,” He stated, and your smile only widened, and you could not help but kiss him once again. It was a rather odd feeling— kissing someone. You never thought about how it would feel or how you would react when doing it, but though the sensation felt new, it felt natural— too natural, if you’re being honest. Kissing him felt so easy as if you were just breathing. It was exciting, yes, but most importantly, it felt pure— instinctive, as if you were born to kiss his lips. And perhaps you were. 

[solxamber]

Kidnapped(?) - Malleus x reader

You were sick of the taxes imposed by the aristocrats in your already poverty stricken village. Your idea of a solution? Kidnap their young master , and make them reduce taxes as the ransom, of course. Only problem is that you went into the wrong manor and kidnapped the wrong young master.

crossposted from my ao3!

It’s far too late for a sane person to be awake, let alone breaking into an aristocratic manor, but here you are, perched atop a wrought iron fence. You inhale deeply, the cool night air doing nothing to calm the wild thudding of your heart. Sure, you’ve trespassed on fancy estates before—who hasn’t?—but this time, you’re aiming high. Really high.

Tonight, you’re going to kidnap the young master.

It sounded less ridiculous in your head, but the village’s plight had pushed you this far. Unfair taxes, people going hungry, all thanks to the greed of the lord’s family holed up in their luxurious estate. Someone needed to stand up for the people. That someone just happened to be you.

You’d never kidnapped anyone before, but how hard could it be? Grab the rich guy, ask for a ransom—specifically, less ridiculous taxes—and stroll away like a hero. Easy.

The manor looms in front of you, all dark windows and dramatic architecture. It's almost too easy to slip past the guards. You start to wonder if they’re just really bad at their jobs or if this is some elaborate setup. Still, you can’t help but smirk. You’re so good at this, it’s almost criminal.

Well, it is criminal. But you know, details.

Inside, the place is eerily quiet. Every shadow seems to be watching you as you slink through the halls, making your way toward the young master’s room. You’ve heard the rumors—aloof, cold, basically allergic to feelings. Intimidating him into compliance? Piece of cake.

After a few minutes of creeping around like a ninja, you find a room with the door slightly ajar. A faint light flickers inside. Jackpot. You steady your breath, grip your very intimidating (okay, slightly makeshift) weapon, and push the door open.

Sitting at a desk, seemingly unfazed by your dramatic entrance, is the young master.

“Ah,” he says, turning slowly to look at you. There’s a glimmer of... curiosity? in his eyes. “A visitor. How... unexpected.”

You blink. This is not going to plan. Where’s the panic? The yelling for help? The appropriate reaction to being ambushed at night?

Determined to salvage the situation, you wave your weapon and try your best "intimidating kidnapper" voice. “You’re coming with me! I’m here to kidnap you, and if you want to see your precious manor again, you’ll lower the village taxes!”

There’s a beat of silence.

The young master raises an eyebrow. “You’re kidnapping me? How... amusing.”

Amusing? You falter. “This isn’t a joke,” you insist, shaking your weapon for emphasis. “I’m serious! Ransom, taxes, starving villagers—ringing any bells?”

Instead of, say, panicking or fleeing, the young master stands up from his chair, all calm and composed, like this is a perfectly normal Tuesday night activity. “Very well. I suppose I should humor you.”

You blink again, utterly at a loss. “Wait... you’re just agreeing to this?”

“Of course.” He tilts his head, giving you a strange, intrigued look. “I’ve never been kidnapped before. It sounds rather... interesting.”

And just like that, he strolls toward the door as if this is his idea. You scramble to follow, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

As you lead him through the estate, you’re still grappling with the bizarre reality of the situation. Here you are, attempting to kidnap someone, and the guy is practically rolling out a red carpet for you.

“You know,” you mutter, glancing over at him, “most people don’t just let themselves be kidnapped. It’s not really how this works.”

He turns to you with a serene smile that’s entirely too pleasant for a hostage. “Why should I resist? You don’t seem the type to harm me.”

You narrow your eyes. Is he flirting? Intentionally or not, this guy’s nerve is off the charts.

“I didn’t catch your name,” he says suddenly, voice smooth as silk.

“I’m not giving my name to my hostage,” you snap back. This is Kidnapping 101.

“Ah, of course.” He nods, clearly amused. “Then I’ll introduce myself instead. I am Malleus Draconia.”

Your stomach drops to the floor. Malleus Draconia. THE Malleus Draconia. The name practically vibrates with power and danger, and you suddenly realize you’ve made a colossal mistake. You haven’t kidnapped the young master of the manor—you’ve kidnapped the prince of the fae.

“Oh no,” you mutter, horror creeping into your voice. “Oh no, oh no, this is bad. This is really bad.”

Malleus watches you with mild amusement, an eyebrow raised. “Why the sudden distress?”

You whirl on him. “You’re Malleus Draconia! I— I wasn’t supposed to kidnap you! This is a mistake—like, a huge mistake. I’ll just let you go and we can pretend this never happened, okay?”

But instead of looking concerned, Malleus just smiles wider, a wicked little gleam in his eyes. “Let me go? But I’m having so much fun.”

You gape at him. “You... want to stay kidnapped?”

“Indeed.” He seems completely unbothered by the sheer absurdity of the situation. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve had such an engaging evening.”

Well. This is officially the weirdest night of your life.

The night only gets stranger when you run into his retainers.

“Young Master!” a voice bellows, and you look up to see a tall, green-haired fae charging toward you, fury in his eyes. “What is going on here?!”

Before you can even explain, Malleus casually steps in. “Ah, Sebek. Allow me to introduce my kidnapper.”

Sebek freezes mid-charge, eyes wide. “Y-Your... kidnapper?!”

Malleus nods with an unnervingly calm smile. “Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Sebek’s brain seems to short-circuit, and he storms off, shouting something about telling Lilia and Silver. You groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is a disaster.”

Malleus, of course, chuckles softly beside you. “On the contrary. I think it’s rather amusing.”

Of course he does.

By the time Lilia and Silver arrive, you’ve already resigned yourself to your fate. At least they’ll make your execution quick, right?

But Lilia just grins mischievously, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well, well. This is certainly the most interesting kidnapping I’ve seen in centuries.”

Silver, on the other hand, just raises a brow. “He seems to be enjoying himself.”

Malleus smiles at you, as though being abducted by a random stranger is the highlight of his week. “Quite.”

You’re about to protest when Malleus turns to his retainers with a firm nod. “I’d like to speak to my kidnapper alone.”

Sebek looks like he’s going to explode, but Malleus’s sharp glance shuts him up. Lilia throws you a wink as they all leave, and just like that, you’re alone with the fae prince. Again.

Malleus steps closer, his calm mask slipping just a little. “You know, I’ve grown quite fond of this little adventure.”

You blink up at him. “Are you serious?”

He tilts his head, lips quirking into a smile. “I propose a deal. I’ll help your village with the taxes. In return, you’ll... continue kidnapping me.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait... you want me to keep kidnapping you?”

“Yes. It’s been rather fun.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “What do you say?”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “This is the weirdest deal I’ve ever made.”

Malleus grins, entirely too pleased with himself. “Wonderful. Now, shall we shake on it?”

And so, your bizarre, extremely non-traditional kidnapping arrangement begins.

Every few days, it’s the same: you sneak into his manor (more like casually walk in, since he always leaves the window open for you now), and the two of you embark on whatever adventure catches your whimsy. Sometimes it’s sneaking into human markets where Malleus marvels at the mundane—like street food or ridiculous trinkets. Other times, you explore abandoned castles with winding, forgotten hallways that echo with untold stories.

It’s almost normal now, the way he expects you to “abduct” him with little more than a raised eyebrow and a soft chuckle as you half-heartedly demand his presence for another outing. The most feared prince of the fae is now, apparently, your willing partner in crime.

The first time you take him to a local fair, though, you realize just how out of his element he truly is. Malleus spends a good twenty minutes, completely entranced, watching a cotton candy machine.

“Is it... magic?” he asks, his (very pretty) eyes locked onto the swirling pink clouds as the vendor twirls the sugary fluff onto a stick.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound coming out far more amused than you intended. “Nope. Just sugar spun into fluff. You’ve really never seen this before?”

Malleus watches the process with a reverence usually reserved for ancient relics, finally accepting the cotton candy as if it’s some kind of delicate treasure. He takes a cautious bite, his expression lighting up like a child’s.

“Incredible,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. “It dissolves on the tongue.”

You bite back another laugh at the sight of this powerful fae prince, someone who commands fear from almost everyone around him, completely taken by spun sugar. “Glad you like it.”

After that, it’s a night of him eagerly trying every strange, sticky fair food he can find, utterly fascinated by things as simple as corn dogs and funnel cake. You can't decide if it’s endearing or a little embarrassing, but either way, you’re having more fun than you’ve had in a long time.

As the weeks pass, the more you look forward to your little "kidnapping" escapades, and that in itself is a whole other problem. Malleus’s wide-eyed curiosity about the human world is... strangely adorable, and while he’s still every bit the regal fae prince, there’s something endearing about the way he asks you questions about everyday things with such genuine interest. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, his quiet intelligence making for great conversation—when he’s not completely sidetracked by things like human street food.

The more time you spend with him, the harder it becomes to ignore the truth creeping up on you. You’re starting to fall for him. It’s ridiculous, and yet... here you are.

Of course, not everything goes smoothly.

“Human!” Sebek shouts dramatically one afternoon as you and Malleus return from yet another outing. “How dare you abduct the Young Master again!”

You roll your eyes, half-expecting this by now. “Sebek, I’ve told you before. He wants me to kidnap him.”

Sebek bristles, sputtering indignantly, his green hair practically standing on end. “Lies! The Young Master would never allow—”

“Sebek,” Malleus interrupts, his tone calm, but with that unmistakable edge that immediately silences his retainer. “I went willingly. Again.”

Sebek’s jaw drops, looking like someone just told him the sky isn’t blue. “But... Young Master...”

Malleus gives him a slow, deliberate look, his lips curving into a faint, almost predatory smile. “You should try it sometime. You may find it... enlightening. Although,” he turns to you, his voice soft but with an unmistakable possessiveness, “you’ll have to find another human. This one is already mine.”

Your breath hitches as Malleus’s words hang in the air, and you can't help but feel your heart skip a beat. Sebek, meanwhile, looks utterly scandalized, his eyes wide as saucers. Lilia, who has been watching the whole thing with far too much amusement, claps Sebek on the back.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Lilia chuckles. “Let them have their fun.”

Sebek looks like he's about to explode, but instead storms off, muttering something about propriety, while Silver smirks quietly from the sidelines.

One night, after another "kidnapping," you find yourself sitting beside Malleus on a hill overlooking the village, the faint glow of the fair still visible in the distance. The stars hang bright overhead, and there’s a soft stillness between you as the cool air nips at your skin.

Malleus’s voice breaks the quiet, low and thoughtful. “You’ve given me more than I expected.”

You glance at him, curious. “What do you mean?”

He turns to you, his dark eyes holding a depth you hadn’t seen before. “Companionship. I hadn’t realized how much I longed for it until... until you.”

Your heart does something funny at his words, the raw sincerity of them tugging at something deep inside you. Without thinking, you reach out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, your fingertips grazing his skin. The air between you seems to still.

“I’ve grown... quite fond of you,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

You swallow, feeling your pulse quicken. “Malleus, I—”

But before you can find the words, Malleus leans in, his eyes never leaving yours, and you feel the warmth of his hand gently cup your cheek. The world seems to fade away as you both hover there, caught between anticipation and something more.

“I do believe,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your skin as his eyes darken with something you can’t quite name, “that I’m falling for you, my little kidnapper.”

Your heart stutters, and before you know it, you’re closing the space between you, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative kiss. For a moment, everything else ceases to matter—no fair, no adventures, no strange arrangements. Just the two of you, finally giving in to the pull that’s been drawing you together for weeks.

When you pull back, breathless, Malleus smiles, and it’s the softest, most genuine smile you’ve ever seen from him. “Does this mean,” he says, his voice still low and teasing, “you’ll continue kidnapping me?”

You laugh softly, feeling the warmth of his words settle deep in your chest. “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Malleus grins, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. “No, I suppose not.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

This is my first time posting here so i have no idea what i'm doing and the formatting is probably off because i'm on mobile but i'll slowly figure it out.

[flemingsgirl]

Bundle of joy

Her sweet wife's expecting and her teammates being just like family.

Viviane Miedema x freader

Tw: Mention of vomit and a swear..

Wrapped in your coat only your eyes and scrunched nose looking out you sat behind the bench of her team; Viv organized you a bandage for the seat. When the team walks back to the locker room Katie and some other wave at you and as Vivianne makes her way past you she stops at the railing. “Look at you all freezing up, just wearing gloves, what are you hoping for,” you laughed and she rolls her eyes. Her hand reaching for yours intertwining them, “You okay?” She knitted her brows. “you’re quite passive just some jogs.”

“Yeah, yeah, someone kicked me against my shine.”

“Nasty.”

“You can say that loud. Are you alright?” her eyes wandering from yours down to your abdomen.

“I’m fine, we’re fine” her lips curl up and her dimple visualizes on her cheek. “You’re rocking it Anna,” you squeeze her hand, the goner laughed, and you showed how you have her finger crossed, she gives you another radiant smile before disappearing into the dugout.

When the game ends her eyes search for you on your designed seat. “You good Miedema?” her thick accent filling the air.

“Yeah just looking..”

“For Y/N? I think she left ten minutes ago.” The woman takes off as the words left katies mouth.

Banging on the several doors in the restroom she hears heavy breathing behind the last one. “Schatje,” she raises her hand and knocks hesitantly on the door, “can you let me in?”

“It’s open,” you mumble, and she slowly pushes the door open. “It hit out of the blue, couldn’t even watch the end.”

Her hand rubs over your back, her other holding your hair back, “it’s alright, it wasn’t even important.”

“Every game is important for me, seemingly not for her.” Your head rests in your hand as you take deep breaths in.

“She cannot quite understand it,” Viv lets out a chuckle and takes your cheek in her hand.

“Don’t, I stink.”

“So, do I.”

“You don’t wanna kiss me with all the vomit.”

“I’d always kiss you but if you don’t feel like it it’s okay.” She rises to her feet holding out a hand for you, “you wanna come into the changing room and wait for me?”

“I don’t know I’m not sure if the nausea is gone,” you take her hand, and she helps you on your feet.

“Good, small steps, okay? So how are we?” leading you out of the stall and towards the sinks, getting some water in her hands she attaches it to your skin, a prickling feeling runs through your body. “You’re doing so well.”

“I’m just standing.”

“Yeah, and that’s enough,” she places her hands on your tummy which is hid in your coat. “We’re almost done, only a few weeks.” She pecks your cheek, then the other and at last your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, my love,” you bring your arms around your neck and snuggle into the crock of her neck, the sweaty smell almost calming you. “I’m ready let’s get this done.”

She guides you into the changing room where you’re meet with cheers and shouting from her mates, Beth almost jumping you to the ground, Viv could catch the two of you before worse could happen. “I can’t believe only a few weeks,” she squeaks still jumping up and down. Two strong arms sling around your body as Katie pulls you into her embrace “Can’t leave before aunty Katie said hello,” she lowers her head to the bump, “Yo hello bud in there, it’s your favourite don’t upset your mommies they’re doing their best and beyond. Can’t wait until you’re here.”

“Oh, girls you’re so sweet,” tears built up in your eyes and your bottom lip trembles they’re taking the cue and hold you in their embrace until Vivianne is ready to go home. “Okay guys see you tomorrow,” she waves for them, and you both step out.

The first days back home with your little bundle of joy was everything besides joy, screaming, crying, vomiting, pooping, people who say it’s easy peasy lemon squeezy should rod in hell. Hectic that was your new normal. Don’t get this wrong the birth of your baby girl was next to your wedding day the best day in your life, Heleen is a sweet girl and looks just like her mom but then she got this cold in the first days being home, she gets fuzzy and screams almost the whole day, neither of you could keep an eye shut, your hearts breaking at her being sick.

After this bumpy start the three of you fell perfect into the family routine and life. The only thing that was a topic that you discussed with your wife was football. She paused training with the girls the first month of Heleen’s life, she needed to get back on the pitch, stay in form, train for her to be part of the squad but that wasn’t as important to her than her family.

“Viv, it’s been a month you can’t stay home and workout here.”

“Why so?

“We don’t have the capacitate nor the girls to push you. You miss them. I know,” you caresses her cheek as you step closer to her in the rocking chair. “They need you. We got this; you still have half of the day with us my love.”

“But what if I don’t want to leave you?”

“I don’t want it either but there are some things we can’t change. We’ll come around as much as we can,” you peck her cheek and rest your head on hers as your hands hold her face. “You’re not a bad person, it’s your job.”

Marking her tenth month she was the first time in the stadium with you, the noise cancelling headphones on her head as she cradles in your arm eyes sparkling as she observes her surroundings. “Quite lovely innit Hel?” you kiss her occipital. “Look there’s mommy,” you point towards your wife who walks behind Beth onto the pitch, she squeaks and jumps in your lap. Heleen fell asleep around the twentieth minutes.

Viv scored twice that day and sent you a heart each time. Your daughter wakes before them and sees them as well, so you think cause she somewhat claps her small hands together, making you giggle. When the games ends you moved closer to the pitch with your daughter tight pressed into your body.

“Look who’s there,” you turn her in your grip, “your favourite aunty.” Katie sees you and runs over to you almost crashing into some other player.

“Look at you, all proud of aunty to win,” she raises her hands towards you, and you hand your daughter to the other woman.

“But careful Katie,” one brow raised, and your pointing finger dared on her.

“You know me.”

“Yeah, the biggest argument.”

“Let’s get you to your mommy,” she coos and walks over to Viv who was wrapped in a conversation with Beth and Caitlin.

“Oh, who’s there!”

“Our biggest fan!”

“Hartendief,” Viv tickles her side, and she wiggles in Katie’s grip and then she takes her off her aunties arm and into her body. “I scored for you have you seen that?” she whispers into her little ear, “I’m very happy you’re here.” She pecks her forehead and joins the conversation again, a smile plastered on her lips.