#and we could collect it but it was. on the table behind me. that i spun around towards.

[rafecameronssl4t]

The weight of expectations || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: I know you guys wanted more soft moments between Rafe and reader in this au so here you go!!!

Warnings: nothing!

Word count: 1,532

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The dimly lit office in the Cameron building had always carried an air of prestige, a reminder of the empire Ward Cameron had built with his own hands. But now, Rafe sat behind the polished mahogany desk, feeling the weight of that legacy pressing down on his shoulders.

His reflection in the window—sharp suit, tired eyes, jaw clenched—was one of a man constantly battling his own demons. Rafe’s phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. The meeting with Mr. Cartwright was scheduled for five minutes ago, but knowing Cartwright, he would make him wait a little longer just to make a point.

Rafe’s lip twitched in annoyance. This was supposed to be simple—sign the deal, deliver, and collect the reward. But like everything in his life lately, nothing was as easy as it seemed. As if on cue, the heavy doors creaked open, and Mr. Cartwright strode in, his presence filling the room with the unmistakable arrogance of someone who thought he could toy with the Camerons.

Rafe hated men like him. Cartwright was older, maybe late forties, with graying hair slicked back and a suit so tailored it made a statement by itself. Still, Cartwright had power, and Rafe knew they needed him for this deal. Rafe’s eyes narrowed, but he stood, gesturing to the chair across from him. “You’re late.”

Cartwright smirked, unbothered. “You’ve got nothing but time, Cameron.” Rafe resisted the urge to slam his fist on the table. The conversation turned cold quickly, escalating from subtle jabs to outright confrontation as Cartwright slammed his hand on the desk. “This wasn’t the outcome we agreed on, Cameron. I expected the deal to be completed two weeks ago.”

Rafe gritted his teeth, leaning back in his chair, trying to play it cool. Cartwright was testing him, seeing if Rafe would break under pressure. “Things take time, Cartwright. We’re working on it. You can’t expect a project this size to wrap up overnight.” But Cartwright wasn’t having it.

“I expected results, not excuses. I trusted your family’s name—your father’s name—when I signed on to this. Now, you’re telling me I just need to ‘wait’? My investors don’t have time for your delays.” Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “I think you forget I was my father’s protégé, and now I’m handling the business. You underestimate me.”

“I don’t care what your investors think. The timelines shifted, and there’s nothing anyone can do about that. We’ll deliver, but on our schedule, not yours.” Mr. Cartwright slams his hand down on the table, eyes narrowing. “Your schedule is putting my reputation on the line. I’m not some small-time client you can string along. My name holds weight, and if your company can’t keep up, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker with irritation, but he maintains his composure, though his tone becomes icier. “You’re not going anywhere, and we both know that.” He leans forward, his stare sharp. “You’ve invested too much in this project to pull out now. So let’s stop pretending you have the upper hand here.”

Mr. Cartwright scoffs, clearly insulted. “Your father knew how to handle his business. You, on the other hand, seem more interested in playing house with your perfect little wife and children than focusing on the deals that matter.” The mention of you brought heat rising to Rafe’s face.

His jaw clenched as he fought to control his temper. The comment hit too close to home. Cartwright had no idea what his marriage was like, the public façade they upheld, the tangled mess of feelings that simmered beneath the surface. “Mention my wife again, and you’ll regret it,” Rafe spat, his voice low and dangerous.

Cartwright just smirked. “Touchy subject, huh? Maybe if you focused on the business instead of her, this deal wouldn’t be falling apart.” That did it. Rafe was out of his chair, leaning over the desk, his eyes flashing with barely controlled rage. “You don’t get to talk about her. You signed the contract. You’ll get what we promised, but on our terms.”

“If you’re too much of a coward to stick it out, then fine—walk away. But you’re not going to find anyone better than me in this industry, and you know it.” The room was tense, their stares locked in a silent battle of wills. Cartwright didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened his suit jacket, his mouth set in a hard line.

“I’ll give you one month, Cameron. If this doesn’t turn around by then, I’ll make sure everyone knows how your family is crumbling—starting with you. Rafe forced himself to relax, stepping back from the desk, his smirk returning, though there was no warmth behind it. “One month. You’ll get your results. But you don’t scare me, Cartwright. Cross me, and you’ll regret it.”

With one final glance, Cartwright turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, leaving Rafe standing alone, the weight of the confrontation settling over him. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

~

It was nearing 8 p.m. when Rafe pulled into the driveway, his mind still buzzing from the heated argument with Cartwright. He had no doubt he could deliver on the deal—he always found a way. But tonight, Cartwright’s words had gotten under his skin in a way that lingered, like a dull throb at the back of his mind.

The quiet of the house was almost unsettling as he stepped inside, the weight of the day’s events hanging heavily on his shoulders. Making his way upstairs, Rafe entered the bedroom, immediately spotting you on the bed, nursing Leo. Your eyes were closed, head leaned back against the headboard, one hand gently patting Leo’s back as he fed contentedly.

Rafe sighed, running a hand over his face, feeling the tension in his body slowly begin to ease. As complicated as things were between you, there was an undeniable comfort in your presence—an unspoken understanding that neither of you acknowledged but both felt. Rafe quietly crossed the room, his gaze softening as he approached.

Leo’s wide eyes met his, curious and bright. Rafe couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to gently stroke his son’s cheek. Leo’s tiny hand immediately grasped Rafe’s finger, holding on tight. A warmth spread through Rafe’s chest, and for a moment, the stress of the day melted away. His eyes shifted back to you.

Your breathing was calm, features relaxed in a way that made you look at peace, despite everything swirling around your lives. There was something soothing about the scene in front of him—something grounding. Leo’s eyes never left Rafe, watching his father with that same innocent curiosity. “Tough day?” Your voice, soft but alert, broke the silence.

Rafe’s gaze snapped up, meeting your half-lidded eyes as you watched him, though you hadn’t moved. He straightened, clearing his throat as he walked to the dresser, his back turned to you. “Just another asshole trying to tell me how to run my business,” he muttered, slipping off his watch and setting it down with more force than necessary.

“Cartwright’s testing me,” Rafe continued, running a hand through his hair before heading turned back around, leaning against the dresser. “Thinks I’m not my father.” Your gaze softened as you watched him. “You’re not your father, Rafe. And that’s not a bad thing.”

His blue eyes searched yours, trying to figure out if you truly meant it. There was a sincerity there, a quiet support that he wasn’t used to. It disarmed him for a moment, making him pause as he watched you with a curiosity that mirrored his son’s. The way you moved so naturally—so gracefully—as you gently lifted Leo and placed him in his bassinet beside the bed was a sight he found himself quietly admiring.

A soft sigh left your lips as you tucked him in, smoothing the blankets before slipping back beneath the sheets. You glanced up at him, still leaning against the dresser, lost in thought. “Are you going to get ready for bed?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying that calm tone you always seemed to have when it came to him.

There was no pressure, just a simple question, but it tugged at something deeper within Rafe. He cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he muttered, his voice low as he turned back to the dresser, his fingers absently fiddling with the cufflinks on his shirt.

But he didn’t move right away. Instead, he stood there for a moment longer, watching you settle into the bed, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around him like a comfort he hadn’t realised he needed. Despite the chaos that always seemed to swirl around them—around him—there was a strange sense of peace in this room, in this space they shared.

Even if it wasn’t always easy, even if things between them were complicated, there was something grounding in the quiet moments like these. And as much as Rafe hated to admit it, those moments were starting to mean more to him than he had ever expected.

[evilgwrl]

hey sunshine 🥰 could you possibly do the 141 with a hyper independent reader? id love to see how they handle a s/o like this!! if not, i totally understand 💜💜 enjoy your sunday

Ofc!! I hope this is what you were looking for, I'm not the most educated on hyper-independence but I tried to do a lil research <3 Sorry it took me so long to write it, I've been having a hectic week

Your feet strummed against the floor; body restless as you looked at the flock of emails piling up. Fidgety hands were tugging at your hair as you looked at the time. Your laptop shut with a huff as you walked into the kitchen, eager to eat as your stomach grumbled.

There was a soft shell of steam covering the room, food broiling in the oven as you turned your attention to the chopping board. You swore quickly, the smell of burning sauce catching your attention as you turned to quickly stir it. Your body swayed back and forth, constantly focusing on something new as you struggled to keep up.

You had a strict schedule, always needing to be on top of everything. You enjoyed the smiles on the boy’s faces when they came through the door to a cooked meal. It was different today, however. Work had finished later than usual, pushing your activity back as the boys walked through the door.

“Hey, bonnie,” Soap flattered, pressing a kiss to your head as he looked at the kitchen, every saucer in use.

“Hi,” you smiled, swatting his hands away as he attempted to stir something.

“Smells good, love,” John cooed, husky breath against your neck as he hugged you from behind.

“I’ll set up the dining table,” Kyle chirped as you quickly yelped at a ‘no’.

“No, no. I’ve got it. Just go sit down. It’s nearly done.”

Simon raised a brow, taking in your quick no. They knew you enjoyed working alone, it just seemed easier for you, but the scene before him was overwhelming to look at as you rubbed at your forehead, pulling something out of the oven.

“We’re happy to help, sweet’art, just let-“

“No, no, I promise its fine. Please just go sit down.”

You were consistent as you shushed them out of the kitchen with a handtowel, turning your attention back to the scene in front of you. Soap frowned as he sat down, resting his chin in his hand.

“She’s gonna work ‘erself to death,” Simon scowled, concerned.

“You know how she is, she’s independent,” Gaz quipped, rubbing a brow.

You were a flurry, piling food onto the plates before they grew cold. You were quick to place all their plates down and hurry back, grabbing a stack of cutlery and cups, the glass pile slightly tipped. John raised from his seat to assist you as you pulled back, offering him a gentle smile.

“Let me help, dove.”

“I’ve got it, I don’t need help,” you spoke quickly as you moved too fast, the glasses tipping over as they clattered against the floor, shards of crystal collecting at your feet as you hissed, the four men surrounding you quickly raising to their feet.

Your legs padded against the floor as you hurried to the kitchen to grab a dustpan from under the sink, Soap quickly in toe. It was overwhelming as they crowded around you, trying to grab the scoop from your fidgety hands before you snapped, “I don’t need your help, just eat your food.”

Your tone was harsh as they stilled, staring at you with concern. Your face felt hot, unshed tears welling in your eyes at the situation. The glass collected in the black box, flickers of shimmer dancing off the sharp shards as you grabbed your own plate, heading to your bedroom.

You weren’t sure where it came from, the need to never ask for help but it ate at you until your body was scolding with overworked heat. The night ticked by slowly as you cooped yourself up in the warmth of your sheets, only getting up to clean as you walked to the kitchen, no mess in sight.

“I hope you don’t mind that we cleaned up, figured you had done enough for us today,” Price’s voice was soft, a glide of comfort slipping from his tongue as he placed his hand’s on his hips.

“I could’ve done it.”

“I know, we all know. But we’re here too, love. It’s not fair for you to take on every load of responsibility. You deserve help. We’re not going anywhere, and we want to show you that we appreciate you too.”

The words settled in your chest as you stared at him, placing the plate in the sink as you offered him a polite glance, attempting to wrap around everything he was saying.

“Thank you,” you said, eyes low as you began to wash. The tickle of hair was felt around your waist, along with two arms as Kyle pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

“We want to help you, love. You don’t need to go through anything alone, we’re here to support you the way you support us.”

You swallowed deeply.

“We don’t want to overwhelm you either, we just want our girl to feel the best she can,” Price spoke.

It was harder for you to talk about your feelings, your heart chained in between your rib cage, the need to ask for help always at the tip of your tongue but never able to leave, keeping you prisoner to your own despair. The boys left you for a little bit, asking you to join them in the living room when you were ready. There was a gentle pit of anxiety in your stomach as you huffed, ensuring everything had been done before you joined them.

It was a sweet sight to walk into. They were spread on the couch, reassuring smiles on their faces as Soap held his hands out towards the table, a chocolate cake decorated with the words ‘Thank you’ on it along with a bouquet of pink peonies.

You laughed, “When did you have time to get all this?”

“I’m quick,” Ghost beamed, tapping the spot between them as you huddled over.

“Thank you,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks. It was hard for you to comprehend you had people wanting to help you, and you knew they would never be able to understand what it was like for you, but they tried their hardest, and that was the greatest gift you could ask for.

“Can I eat some cake now?” Soap chorused as you laughed, rubbing the back of his head before nestling into Kyle.

[truthfulpoint]

I fucked my girlfriends little sister.

It was just another Friday night for me. I work as an auto mechanic, and like most guys after a long day, we hit the bar. Most of the men were married and started to stagger back home pretty early, leaving just me and a few of my buds that were single. We nursed a few more beers, but I was avoiding going home since I knew my roommate would bring back his date.

“Last call!” The bartender hollered, breaking me out of my daydream about the security at work. The bartender was a cute little thing, college-aged with a few freckles across her nose. And those eyes - ugh, they were something to die for.

I had already collected the empties from my table and made my way to her to get a last round. I smiled at her as I tossed a twenty onto the counter.

“Another for the road and keep the change.” She bit into her lip as she took up the bill, shoving it into the apron she wore. The blue label of what I had been drinking all night was slid over to me as I eyed her; there was something about her that I couldn’t put a finger on.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” The towel over her shoulder was taken down as she wiped the trail of water left behind. I used the counter to pop the lid off of my drink as I stared at her.

“No, but I was just thinking there was something about you.” She seemed to deflate at my answer; it didn’t seem it was the one she was looking for. That smile returned as another customer came up to close their tab.

“You dated my sister.” She looked over her shoulder at me. The strap of her too-thin tank top had slipped just enough to show the small tattoo on her shoulder blade— one that looked familiar to me.

“… AUDRY?” That was said a little too loud. I fixed my face and cleared my throat, nursing my beer to hide my reaction. The last time I saw her she was just a fresh teen with braces, always wearing hoodies. This was a woman in front of me, but she still held onto that familiarity that made my heart skip a beat.

She laughed, and I swear it lit up the room. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one to notice. A few of the guys still lingered about, and I’d bet money it was to see who could take her home.

“Yes, yes. Don’t say it so loud.” The change was given to the customer, who gave it back along with a napkin with his number. She pocketed both, but as soon as he was out the door, she tossed the napkin out.

“I haven’t seen you in…” I thought back to the last time I had seen her. It had to be a good ten years. It was my senior year of high school, and she was just in middle school?

“Eleven years. I think I’ve grown up since then.” There was a tease in her voice. I couldn’t help but let my eyes drop down her body and take in just how much she had grown. Her breasts were more than a handful each, and I wondered if they were real.

“Certainly have.” I looked back at her features, and I could see it now. Her hair was more red than brown now, the baby fat gone from her face, and she had that smoky eye look going that framed her blue-grey eyes. My interest sparked just thinking about what I could do.

She cleaned and closed tabs as the room emptied. She waved out the other barback as we caught up, closing out the drawers, emptying the trash, and tending to general bar duties. When the last of the patrons left, it was just the two of us.

I decided to go out on a limb and ask for her number, unsure about how weird it would be since I had dated her sister.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She took my phone, entered her number after asking for the pin. Immediately after, she texted herself from my phone, indicating that she was interested. Time to turn on the charm.

“Let me walk you home?” I slipped off the stool, placing it on the counter with others. She removed her apron, collected her tips in a jar before returning. As she walked back around, I noticed her curves accentuated by her chest bouncing slightly with each step. All I could think about was how amazing she would look riding me.

"I'm good at walking home alone," she said softly, her voice now deeper and more sultry than I remembered. "But if you want to follow me... well, I wouldn't mind some company."

My heart hammered in my chest as I fell into step beside her, not wanting to miss another beat of conversation. We walked together silently for a moment as she unlocked her car door, and then turned to face me once more. In the dim lighting of the parking lot, I saw her cheeks flush slightly under his gaze; her body language changing from confident to vulnerable. Something inside me stirred at this newfound vulnerability in her demeanor.

"What?" she asked playfully, rolling her eyes at herself before looking away shyly. "I mean... it's been so long since someone found me attractive."

I couldn't help but smirk at that statement - like she wasn't attractive now? It was hard not to imagine all those curves underneath those tight jeans, and that coy smile on my face felt foreign to me.

“You gotta be kidding me. Look at you.” She blushed deeply at my words, her hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. I couldn't resist reaching out and tracing her jawline with my finger, causing her to shiver slightly.

"Is that so?" she asked, her voice low and breathy. Her eyes never left mine, full of desire and a hint of mischief.

Without hesitation, I leaned in and captured her lips with mine. It was like fireworks exploding in the night sky - passionate, intense, and electric. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around my neck as I pulled her closer to me.

We stumbled towards my car, our kisses becoming more frantic and urgent with each step. Once inside, we were all over each other - hands roaming freely over each other's bodies as we devoured each other's mouths.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Not only was I making out with my ex-girlfriend's sister after all these years, but it felt amazing, like we were meant to be together all along.

"You taste so good," I groaned against her lips, my free hand finding its way to her derrière and squeezing it roughly through her tight jeans. She let out a moan of approval, grinding her hips against me in response. "Goddess, you feel amazing."

She let out a small laugh into the kiss before breaking away for air. "You really think I'm a goddess?" she asked with a smirk that made my anticipation grow.

I smirked back at her. "Are you kidding? You do see how beautiful you are."

Her eyes widened for a moment before she leaned in again, this time biting my bottom lip softly between her teeth playfully. Her breasts were pressed against me, and I could feel the heat of her body seeping through our clothes as she ground against me harder - she felt so good.

"Take your shirt off," she demanded between breaths. Her voice was low and sultry now; it sent shivers down my spine as I pulled it over my head without hesitation. My chest hair tickled against hers as she ran her hands over them greedily while still keeping the kiss going.

She pulled away from the kiss, her eyes filled with lust. "Lay back," she commanded, her hands pushing me gently towards the back seat of my car. I complied eagerly, anticipating what was to come next.

She climbed on top of me, straddling my hips as she leaned down to resume our passionate kisses. Her hands roamed all over my bare chest, exploring every inch of my skin as if it was something she had been longing for.

I couldn't believe this was happening - just a few hours ago, I was at the bar, trying to drown out my sorrows. Now, I was here, making out with the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Life could be so unpredictable and yet so amazing.

As we kissed, her hands traveled down to the waistband of my jeans, teasingly running her fingers along it before slipping them underneath and grabbing onto my hard member through my boxers. I let out a groan in response, unable to contain my desire any longer.

"Please," I whispered against her lips, not needing to say more for her to understand what I wanted. She pulled away from me slightly and began pulling her top up slowly - giving me a tantalizing view of her cleavage before tossing it aside, revealing a black lacy bra that barely contained her generous breasts.

My eyes widened in appreciation as she leaned in again, capturing my lips in another searing kiss while teasingly grinding against me through our clothes. Her hands worked quickly to unbuckle my belt and unzip my jeans before sliding them down along with my boxers.

I lifted myself slightly so she could pull them off completely before settling back down on the seat. She sat up and looked down at me, her hand wrapping around my length as she began stroking it slowly - eliciting a deep moan from me.

"You like that?" she asked with a smirk before leaning down and taking me into her mouth. I let out a string of curses as she expertly took me deep into her throat, sliding up and down with a skill that belied her inexperience. She looked up at me with a mix of lust and wonder, her blue-grey eyes wide and dark with desire. Her tongue danced over the head of my dick, tracing circles around the tip as she bobbed her head faster and faster. My hands tangled in her hair, holding her close to me as I arched into her touch. The scent of her perfume filled the car - something sweet, like vanilla and smoke.

My hips bucked against her face, trying to get closer, but she held me back, teasing me with a wicked smile on her lips. I groaned into the car door as she took more of my length into that perfect mouth. It felt so good to have someone else's touch on me after so long.

Her fingers trailed down my chest to my stomach before undoing my belt buckle and pulling it off, tossing it away along with my shirt. She pushed me back against the seat as she straddled me once more, leaning in for another scorching kiss. Her breasts brushed against my chest, nipples hard from arousal. I reached up to cup them both through the thin fabric of her bra, squeezing them gently. She moaned into my mouth as our teeth clicked together before pulling away breathless.

"Please," I whispered hoarsely, wanting more of this electric connection we shared.

She nodded once then slid off me, unzipping her jeans slowly revealing black lacy panties underneath which barely contained those perfect curves of hers. She stepped out of them both, and I couldn't help but admire how perfect she was.

Her lips met mine once more, and I tasted the sweetness of her tongue on the side of my mouth before we parted again. "I've always wanted you," she whispered between breaths. It sent shivers down my spine—a feeling of desire that coursed through my veins like lightning bolts connecting us both together.

She slowly lowered herself onto me, her breasts grazing against mine before sitting up straight again; moaning softly at the contact. And then without another word, she lowered herself back down, taking me inside her slowly but surely. Her eyes widened as I filled her up, making sure to look at me every second of the way as if to make sure I knew what we were doing here tonight.

Her skin felt so soft against mine, yet there was an edge to it all—an urgency that matched our beating hearts and racing minds that seemed to set us both on fire. Goddess almighty did she feel good wrapped around me like this!

My lips found sweet spots along her neck as we moved together in sync. Sweat and leather mingling with our arousal created an intoxicating mix. I couldn’t help but growl out loud as she took me. My hands came up to cup her ample breasts, thumbs teasing at her hard nipples.

She seemed to like it, her back arching as though I sent a wave of pleasure through her entire body. She moaned into my neck making me wild. I drove into her faster and faster. Her biting and sucking at my neck just at the collarbone. It felt so good to be wanted after all these years.

“Oh god,” she gasped into my kiss between nips at my neck. “You feel so good.” I couldn’t help but grunt against her neck and continued my frenzied lovemaking. My fingers dug deeper and deeper into her flesh with each thrust inside her welcoming heat.

The friction between us was an exquisite torture building up at an almost unbearable speed. Pleasure was consuming me. It felt like I needed to push past my own body and become one with hers.

Our bodies glistened with perspiration from the fervor of our lovemaking. Every inch of my length sliding against hers sent sparks through my body, igniting a fire inside of me I didn't know was possible.

Her mouth found mine once more; our tongues tangled in a heated dance while we ground against each other frantically. Her fingers dug into my shoulders as if seeking purchase, as she rode me harder and faster than ever before.

I groaned into her mouth, feeling an impending orgasm rising within me at this unexpected turn of events. She bit down on my bottom lip softly, then sucked on it tenderly before returning to the kiss - sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body straight to my core.

With one last hard thrust deep inside of her, I came deep inside of her pussy. Her walls clenched around my cock right after, as I finished inside of her. She moaned louder than I had ever heard a woman before - her own orgasm forcing her body to shake.

My fingers traced her thighs, and the mark of her jeans on her hips, as I looked to her. She pulled my now semi-limp dick from her pussy, my cum dripping down those silken thighs. I looked up at her perfect body, drunk on both alcohol and her.

"That was amazing," she whispered, her voice husky and filled with satisfaction.

I couldn't agree more. It had been years since I had felt this kind of passion and connection with someone else. And the fact that it was with my ex's little sister made it all the more intense.

But now, as we lay here together, I couldn't help but wonder what would come next. Was this just a one-night stand, or could there be something more between us?

[dramionestills]

Dramione month days 17-21

The Hunger Games/Pride and Prejudice/Hogwarts a History/Twilight/Hermione’s Birthday/and Free

“Open your eyes.” He whispered in her ear

She removed her hands from her face and blinked. She couldn’t hold in her gasp of delight at the sight before her.

They had moved in together a few months ago and to say it had been chaotic was an understatement.

There were still boxes of unpacked stuff all over the cottage they had bought together, as work and other events had not allowed them the time and energy to fully settle in.

Hermione had worried, and still did to some extent, that moving to a smaller place than the Manor would be difficult for Draco. Not only was the space so different but also she worried about how much he was straying from traditions for her and whether that may put a strain on their relationship. But Draco could not be happier to leave the bad memories and restrictive expectations that the Manor represented behind and start a new chapter with the love of his life.

So, while Hermione had been too busy the past month with a new piece of werewolf legislation that demanded she put longer hours than usual, Draco had been coming to the cottage during the work day (with permission and even help from his boss, Head Auror Harry Potter) to set up one single room.

On the west side of the cottage, there was a room that had initially been too small to be anything but storage. Obtaining the extension charm permit had been an annoying process but well worth it, as was adding a bay window to the wall that now let the most beautiful sunsets play out. He had installed handmade cedar bookshelves on most of the available wall space, including below the window seat.

And he had organized all of their books alphabetically by author’s last name, which was their (Hermione’s, but he went with it) preferred method, combining their collections in a perfect mirror of how their lives were now intertwined. Hermione’s collection of rare Jane Austen books displayed beautifully with Pride and Prejudice (her favorite) front and center next to the first edition of Hogwarts a History that Draco had also procured from the Manor. He had brought in several that were too valuable and useful to leave behind. He had even gone to a muggle bookstore and bought some new titles for them to enjoy together once they had more time. They had recommended a few series, including The Hunger Games and Twilight, and he couldn’t wait to discuss them with his beloved while drinking the perfect cuppa.

He had chosen (with help from Ginny and Pansy) a warm color scheme and furniture that looked perfectly cozy and inviting, with luxurious velvet cushions on two large armchairs, some fluffy alpaca and cashmere throws and an ornate walnut coffee table already equipped with aromatic candles and coasters and tissues and a carafe.

It was the library of her dreams and Draco had made it a reality.

She turned to him after taking it all in, adoring the way the golden hour glow fell on not only the room but his alabaster skin and blond hair.

“Draco, this is…” she was starting to tear up, overwhelmed by emotion. “It’s perfect! When? How?”

“Happy birthday, my love” He replied, “I wanted to surprise you with something useful, especially now that the werewolf bill has passed and you will have so much more free time to enjoy your books”

He had walked closer to her and was now wrapping his arms around her waist, leaning his forehead to hers. “We can also do research here, and hopefully we can make good use of that window seat” he smirked slightly.

Hermione let out a watery chuckle. “I love it, so so much. No one has ever done anything this thoughtful for me before”

“You deserve it.”

“And I do think I’ll make good use of it for the next few months before my next project, because that will take up so much of my time.”

“You already got a new project deadline? I thought Kingsley was going to let you have a bit of a break after this one. When do you start?”

“Well,” she looked up mischievously at him. “There will be a preparatory period and then the real thing begins in, oh, approximately 7 months.”

“Huh, oddly specific amount of time but at least you do get quite a bit of time beforehand. And as I said, this library is yours to use as you please; you could use it to complete some of the work here if necessary.”

“I guess we could add a cot between the armchairs…”

“A cot? What? Wait. wait.” She could see him finally catching on and seeing the smile grow on his face as he realized it was the best birthday gift she could have gotten.

[plushievash]

im FREE !!!!!

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

And the Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt post can be found here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[luveline]

Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻

mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”

You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.

“Okay, now we count. One, two…”

“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”

“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”

“Five, six, four–”

You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.

“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.

“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.

You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”

She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.

“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.

She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.

She touches your neck.

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.

Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.

If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.

You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.

“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.

“Hi,” Junie says.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”

“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”

You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.

“Eddie, what is that stuff?”

“You don’t know what day it is today?”

You think about it for a second at least. “No?”

It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.

“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.

You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”

You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am. Open it up.”

You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.

“Is it today?” you ask.

“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”

You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”

“Junie got me this?”

“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”

Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.

Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”

You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.

You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.

“What’s in the box?”

He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”

“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.

He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”

You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.

It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.

“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.

Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”

“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.

“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”

“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.

He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”

“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I really love you.”

“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”

Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”

She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.

[writtenbymoonflower]

how about

and hear me out

room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate

oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered

1.1k words

Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 

They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.

That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 

“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.

“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 

“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 

“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.

“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.

“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 

“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 

“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 

“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 

“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 

“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 

“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 

“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 

You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 

“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 

“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.

“Do you have work today, love?” 

“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 

“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.

“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 

“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 

“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 

“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 

“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”

Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 

“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 

“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 

Baby. Baby. Baby.

It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16

Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k

To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.

“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.

“Nothing happened, dad.”

“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”

It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.

“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”

You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room. 

“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”

You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”

“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”

“Isä! No!”

Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”

The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later. 

“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

“Kimi.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah.”

You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?” 

“The police station.”

“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”

Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”

“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.

“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”

“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”

“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”

His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”

The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.” 

“That wasn’t a denial.”

You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”

“But we’re on the top floor.”

You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.

“You’re still not denying it.”

“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.

“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”

You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”

“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried. 

“You hate him, why would you follow him?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

“It does to me.” 

Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level. 

“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”

The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.

“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street. 

“He was just drunk.” 

“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.

“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”

“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.

“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”

He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”

“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?” 

“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.

His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”

It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits. 

By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall. 

Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.

The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down. 

“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”

He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”

He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.

“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”

They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles’ eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed. 

“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”

Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.

“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”

“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”

“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”

“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”

“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod. 

“And you, what did you do, dad?”

“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”

You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car. 

“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”

It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.

“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”

“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”

You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”

“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.

“I support it now.”

“What changed your mind?”

You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”

—

“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.

Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”

“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.

“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”

The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.

You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.

“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”

Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”

“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”

“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”

“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I will.”

“Answer the question or go out with me?”

“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.

Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.

“But not anymore.”

Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”

“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”

“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”

[flickering-chandelier]

You Matter to Me

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Reader is the mom friend, and she’s very good at it. While she is always taking care of everyone else, Cassian decides to be the one to take care of her. 

Based on this request! 🩷

Word Count: 2.6k

Cassian couldn’t help but laugh as you weaved your way through the dining room at the river house with Nyx on your hip, helping set up everything on the table while Rhysand and Feyre were finishing a meeting with Azriel and Amren in their study. 

“Oh, the wine!” you said suddenly. 

“Do you want me to get it?” Cassian asked. 

As he knew you would, you answered cheerfully, “Nope, I’ve got it.”

“At least let me hold the kid. I don’t want you falling down the stairs,” he said, reaching for Nyx and taking him from your arms before you could protest. 

You smiled at him before disappearing to the wine cellar. 

He was endlessly impressed by your incessant energy, never sitting down until everyone else was settled first, always the one to jump up and grab something if somebody needed it. Since you had come around, it felt like everything was always in order. 

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too much. If you were always taking care of everyone else, who would take care of you?

His attention was pulled when you glided back into the room, placing wine bottles on either side of the table, before the room filled with people, the rest of the inner circle spilling out of Rhysand’s study. 

Feyre smiled at Cassian, her arms outstretched to take Nyx. “I’m surprised she let you take him.”

“Practically had to wrestle him from her hands,” he teased, smiling at you as you sidled up next to Feyre. 

“He’s being dramatic,” you said. 

“Somehow, I don’t think he is,” Feyre smiled at you. “You don’t have to take care of us all the time, you know.”

You shrugged, your eyes shining as you smiled down at Nyx. “I don’t know how to act any other way.”

Maybe we should help change that, Cassian thought. 

Cassian’s eyes were on you all throughout dinner, as you laughed with Feyre, bouncing Nyx on your lap so she could eat. He hadn’t noticed before just how many things you did for everyone else. Feyre’s glass was empty, and likely before she even noticed herself, you were smiling at her, pouring more wine. Nyx knocked Azriel’s spoon off the table and in a heartbeat, you were handing him the clean one that you hadn’t used. Cassian himself unsurprisingly required another napkin and without looking up, you were reaching to pick one up and hand it to him across the table. 

It seemed effortless, like second nature, but he knew it couldn’t have been. It must be exhausting to think about everyone else. 

As dinner came to a close, you rose from your chair, collecting plates and dirty napkins. Feyre stood up to help, and Cassian found himself doing the same. Azriel looked at him with a raised brow, and Cassian just shrugged, snatching up Az’s discarded napkin and Nyx’s floor spoon. 

He followed you into the kitchen, where you already had the sink full of water and were soaking the plates. Feyre had gone back out to collect more from the table.

You looked surprised as you noticed him. “Do you need something?” You asked. 

Cassian tried not to be offended. “No. You think I would only come talk to you if I needed something?”

He tossed the spoon into the sink behind you and threw the fistfull of napkins on the counter to be washed before turning back to you, leaning against the counter where you were, his arm nearly touching yours. “I want to help,” he said quietly. “Put me to work.”

Shrugging, you said, “No, I just… Well, what are you doing?”

You waved your hand dismissively and turned away from him, going back to the sink. “You don’t have to do that.”

“So?”

Cassian moved around you, cutting off your path. You looked up at him exasperated, and he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. “Neither do you! You don’t even live here.”

“You know who does live here?” Cassian asked, moving in front of you again as you tried to side step around him. “The High Lord and High Lady. You do know they have servants, too right?”

“Servants deserve a break,” you said, finally looking up into his eyes. 

“So do you,” he murmured. Without thinking, he reached forward and brushed a piece of hair that had fallen on your forehead behind your ear. 

He heard your breath catch and warmth spread through him. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. 

Cassian smirked again. “See? You know I’m right. Put me to work.”

You blinked, then rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, you said, “Fine. Can you grab the rest of the napkins from the table?”

He gladly did as you asked. 

---

From that day, Cassian made it his mission to be the one looking after you. 

Not that he would let you know that, of course. He tried to be stealthy about it, so you wouldn’t shut down the whole operation. 

Most of the normal group was outside at the river house, enjoying the warm summer day. Cassian sidled up next to you as you were talking to Feyre and handed you a glass of lemonade. 

“Oh!” you said, surprised, but clearly pleased. “Thank you.”

It looked like you had needed it too, because not long after, your glass was empty. Cassian broke off the conversation that he was having with Azriel and wandered over to you casually, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Having a good day?” He asked, pulling the glass from your hand as you smiled up at him. 

“I am.”

“Glad to hear it,” he beamed, before heading back into the house and filling the glass up again. 

When he returned with it, you raised your eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 

Cassian furrowed his brow as he passed you the lemonade. “What do you mean?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, like you were studying him, but you brushed it off. “Nevermind. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he smiled. “Really.”

---

Cassian was acting weird. 

Feyre had been your best friend for years, and you were pretty sure Cassian had talked to you more in the last few weeks than in all of the previous years combined. 

You could feel his eyes on you often, and he was popping up next to you seemingly constantly, refilling your drink or handing you a snack from the kitchen. He even seemed to know which snacks and drinks were your favorites, though you weren’t sure how he would have figured that out. 

It was sweet, you supposed. If you really let yourself stop to think about it, you were willing to admit that it was nice to be taken care of a little for once. You got so busy looking after everybody else, you truly couldn’t remember the last time somebody had cared to pay attention to what you needed. 

But, at the same time, you felt a little bad, and you couldn’t understand why on earth Cassian suddenly cared so much. 

Cassian himself interrupted your thoughts, coming up behind you and wrapping a shawl around your shoulders. You realized that you were holding your arms together over your stomach, shielding yourself from the evening wind. 

You raised an eyebrow at him in question. 

“What?” he smiled, his hands lingering for another moment on your shoulders. “You were shivering.”

“Was I, really?” You asked, surprised. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He leveled you with a remarkably serious expression, considering how easy going he always was. The two of you were back towards the river house, away from the rest of the group who were gathered in clumps around the rest of the yard, laughing and drinking. 

“How do you always notice what other people need, but you give no thought to yourself?” He asked, his eyes softening as he looked down at you. 

You grappled for an answer, feeling slightly paralyzed under his gaze. “I don’t know,” you finally said honestly.

Cassian offered you a sad smile, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly. “You hungry?” 

You laughed. “A little, I guess?”

He smirked, nodding his head to the house, then pulling you forward by the hand. 

The two of you reached the massive kitchen. You started rifling through the pantry and Cassian placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back against his chest. 

You embarrassingly let out a squeak of surprise. “What are you doing?” You asked, trying to twist around to look at him, but he pushed you toward the counter, spun you around and lifted you to sit on it. 

He grinned, his hands still on your hips as you gaped at him. His eyes were locked on yours, and you felt your heart racing, but you were trying desperately to not let him see it.  

“Stay,” he commanded teasingly as he finally stepped away, but you knew he meant it. 

As he rummaged through the kitchen, you tried to steady your breathing. You had to admit, you had been thinking about Cassian a lot more often lately. And that… what he just did… that would not help matters. 

By the time Cassian was back towering over you, you felt more normal. He presented your favorite snack with a smile. 

You took it, thanking him. He hopped up on the counter next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

After eating in silence for a few moments, you turned to him. “How did you know this is my favorite?”

He shrugged, turning his smile on you. You tried to ignore the way that your heart melted. “I pay attention.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

Cassian seemed to contemplate for a moment, his easy smile gone. He finally looked back to you, his eyes smoldering, and said, “You matter to me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he gazed at you, your cheeks warming, and you unfortunately could not think of a single thing to say. 

Suddenly, footsteps were coming toward you and the trance was broken as you looked toward the door to find Feyre striding into the kitchen. 

She looked surprised to see the two of you sitting together, and you knew her well enough to understand what her answering smile meant. 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, hopped off the counter, quickly thanked Cassian, and retreated back outside. 

---

Your mind had been reeling with thoughts of Cassian for days. Something in the air felt different between you in that kitchen, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. 

A loud knock on your door roused you from your ever spiraling thoughts. 

Cassian was grinning as you opened your apartment door, holding a bag of food out to you. “I hope you didn’t have lunch plans.”

You gaped at him. “You’re feeding me in my own house now?”

“I thought I’d mix things up a little bit,” he said, nodding his head inside. “So, are you going to let me in?”

After studying him for another moment, you stepped aside. He walked right past you, going to the kitchen table and spreading the food over its surface. 

Giving in, you went to your cabinet to get cups and plates, but Cassian stilled you with his hands on your hips once again. “No, you don’t.”

“Cassian,” you huffed as he pulled you back toward the table. “You don’t even know where anything is!”

He pushed your shoulders down lightly until you were sitting in a chair. “You can point, can’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. “This feels excessive.”

“I disagree,” he winked at you before going to the cabinet that you were just at, pulling down a few plates, then placing them on the table. 

“Cups?” he asked. 

Sighing, you pointed to another cabinet and he went to it, jovially pulling glasses out and filling them with water. 

Within a few minutes, Cassian was piling food onto your plate, watching you intently as he ate from his own. 

“What is going on with you?” You asked. 

Casually, he said, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Why have you been hovering around, feeding me, bringing me jackets?”

The side of his mouth turned up into a lopsided grin. “Do you want me to stop?”

The question was not what you were expecting. You weren’t sure that you were willing to admit to him how much he had been affecting you yet. You sat back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Answer my question.”

His smile only grew. “Answer mine.”

You raised an eyebrow, determined. “I asked first.”

Cassian laughed. “Okay, fine.”

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him, his eyes fixed on you. “You really want to know the truth?”

You nodded, forcing yourself to keep your eyes locked on his. 

His teasing demeanor dropped, his expression suddenly serious. “I was watching you at dinner with everyone a few weeks ago. And you were running around, taking care of everybody else the entire night. It was like you didn’t even think about it. It’s amazing how you can do that, and I know that everyone around you is thankful for it. But…” he hesitated, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “But, it also made me sad. I started wondering if anybody ever took care of you. And I figured I could be that person.”

You had to take a deep breath, your mind reeling. 

When you were silent for a few more moments, Cassian continued. “You don’t have to take care of everybody, you know. You can slow down. You can relax, and let someone else help you out, too.” He smiled slightly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to show you.”

Something seemed to snap in you then. You hadn’t even realized how badly you had been wanting someone to help you, to pay attention to you, to take care of you for once. The fact that Cassian had noticed even before you did how badly you needed someone to be there for you made it even more unbelievable. 

Your feet seemed to move without your brain’s permission, stepping right up to Cassian, cupping his face in your hands, and kissing him. 

Cassian responded immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you to sit on his lap. He weaved his hands through your hair, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin at your waist where your shirt had ridden up the slightest bit. 

His lips trailed down your neck, and he murmured, “You never answered my question.” 

“Don’t stop,” you panted. 

He chuckled into your neck before kissing you on the lips again. “Don’t stop kissing you? Or don’t stop taking care of you?”

“Both,” you smiled, taking his face in your hands and kissing him again. 

“You got it,” Cassian smiled against your mouth. 

After a few moments, you pulled back, tracing the edge of his jaw with your thumb. “Thank you, Cassian. Really,” you said quietly. 

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t even realize how badly I wanted someone else to watch out for me for once.”

Cassian kissed you gently. “I’m here for you now. Whatever you need. Whether you know it or not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into his neck, hardly believing it. 

---

It took some time, but you eventually became more used to Cassian’s eyes on you, to not be shocked when he handed you a plate of food or washed the dishes for you. 

You were still very much the mom friend who took care of everything, as it was in your nature. But you now knew that you had someone looking after you, too. And you couldn’t be more thankful, as Cassian sidled up to you, kissing you on the temple and handing you a glass of water. 

“Thank you,” you beamed. 

Cassian wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a kiss. “Anytime.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @marina468 @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @azrielshadows1nger @andreperez11

[rafecameronssl4t]

Never say never || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: thank u for the request I love it!! @ghostlythinggoingaround

Warnings: swearing, sofia is insecure abt herself. other than that, nothing really

Word count: 1,317

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

"Who are you looking at?" JJ asked, his curiosity piqued as he followed Sofia's intense gaze across the room. His eyes landed on Rafe, who stood by the pool table, exuding his usual air of arrogance. JJ let out a loud sigh and turned back to Sofia, concern etched on his face.

"Sof, you gotta stop," he said, frowning deeply. Sofia looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her hands mechanically wiping the glasses clean behind the bar. "Stop with what?" she asked, her voice tinged with feigned ignorance.

"Thinking you have a chance with Rafe," JJ replied bluntly. Sofia's hands paused for a brief moment before she resumed her task, her shoulders tensing. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that—well, I did, but—" JJ stammered, his voice trailing off as he noticed the sadness clouding her eyes.

He sighed heavily, "Rafe doesn't do relationships, you know that, right? He'll string you along and then break your heart. Besides, he's a jackass." JJ scoffed, his eyes flicking back to Rafe, who was now laughing loudly with a group of friends.

"Who's a jackass?" a familiar voice chimed in from behind them. JJ and Sofia turned to find Sarah, John B, and Pope approaching the bar. Sarah settled into a bar stool beside JJ, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Your brother," JJ stated, his tone flat. Sarah snorted, rolling her eyes dramatically. "He's worse, trust me," she said, her eyes shifting to Sofia with a knowing look. "Don't tell me you still like Rafe?" Sarah raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with incredulity.

Sofia swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sof—" Sarah began, but Sofia cut her off. "Don't. JJ's already said enough," she sighed, placing the last glass back on the rack before leaning against the counter, her posture defeated. "I just don't understand why he doesn't do relationships."

"Commitment issues, probably," Pope suggested, his eyes following the group's collective gaze towards Rafe, who was in conversation with Topper. "He's got way more issues—" John B started, but Sofia shushed him urgently.

"Stop, he's coming this way!" she whisper-yelled, quickly pretending to be busy as Rafe sauntered over. Rafe walked past them all without a second glance, his attention solely focused on the bartender at the far end of the counter. Sofia took a deep breath, mustering her courage as she approached him, ready to offer her service.

But just as she reached him, Rafe glanced her way, his expression indifferent, and turned to the other bartender to place his order. Sofia's heart sank, and she turned back to her friends, who were watching her with sympathetic eyes.

"See? He's an asshole, Sof. Don't waste your time on him," Sarah advised, her voice softening as she watched Sofia's sullen expression. "I guess," Sofia murmured, her gaze lingering on Rafe for a moment longer.

~

"What time do you get off? I was thinking we could have a fire tonight and have drinks at the chateau," John B suggested, leaning casually against the bar. "I'll be off at seven, and that sounds great," Sofia replied with a bright smile. The others chimed in with their agreement, the excitement of the plan evident in their voices.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sofia noticed you standing by the counter, catching her attention. "I'll be back," she said to her friends, making her way over to you with a welcoming smile. "Hey, can I get you something?" Sofia asked, her eyes meeting yours as you lifted your gaze from your phone, a friendly smile on your lips.

"Hi! Can I just get a Long Island Iced Tea, please?" you replied. "Sure, coming right up," she said, her smile widening as she turned to prepare the drink. As she mixed the ingredients, Sofia couldn't help but steal glances at you. Your natural beauty seemed effortless, and she felt a pang of envy. Your perfectly styled hair, flawless skin, and confident demeanor made her acutely aware of her own insecurities.

"That's a gorgeous necklace you got there," Sofia remarked, her eyes lingering on the shimmering pendant that caught the light with every movement. You smiled warmly, your fingers instinctively reaching up to toy with the delicate chain. Sofia's gaze remained fixed, silently estimating its worth and admiring its intricate design.

"Thanks, my boyfriend gave it to me for my birthday," you chuckled, a note of fondness in your voice. Sofia nodded with a smile, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of envy. She turned back to prepare your drink, but you called out, "Babe, did you want anything?"

Sofia's eyes widened in surprise as she turned and saw Rafe standing beside you, his arm protectively draped over your shoulder. "Whatever you're getting," he replied smoothly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. You smiled at Sofia, who struggled to mask her shock and disbelief.

"Can I get another one, please?" you asked, your tone polite and cheerful. Sofia's eyes darted between you and Rafe, her heart sinking as she realized the truth: your boyfriend was Rafe, the guy who supposedly never did relationships. The realization hit her hard, leaving her momentarily stunned.

Rafe noticed the awkward silence and turned his attention to Sofia, who still held your drink. "Are you just gonna stand there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a hint of impatience.

Your eyes widened in embarrassment. "Don't be rude," you whispered to him, trying to diffuse the tension. Snapping out of her daze, Sofia mumbled, "Sorry," and placed your drink on the counter with a clatter, spilling some of its contents in her haste.

As she prepared the next drink, Sofia couldn't help but eavesdrop on your conversation with Rafe. "Do you wanna do anything this afternoon?" Rafe asked, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "Got any ideas?" you chuckled, resting your hands on his arms, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"Could take the boat out and have dinner?" he suggested, causing your smile to widen with excitement. "That sounds great—" you began, but were interrupted by a loud thud. "There's your drink," Sofia said, pushing the glass toward you with a bit more force than intended. You thanked her and reached for your card, but Rafe quickly swatted your hand away.

"Don't even," Rafe said playfully, making you sigh jokingly. "Rafe—" you started, but he cut you off, chuckling. "You know to just put it on my tab." Sofia's annoyance bubbled over, her fingers tapping rapidly on the counter in frustration. "Just put it on my tab, Cameron," Rafe repeated, not even glancing at her as he took both drinks.

“Thanks again,” you said with a polite smile to Sofia before walking off with Rafe. From behind the bar, Sofia watched with a mix of emotions as you settled onto Rafe’s lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. Laughter bubbled up between you, triggered by something one of your friends said, a scene that ignited jealousy and heartache in Sofia.

She exhaled shakily before returning to her friends, attempting to distract herself from the sight. Unbeknownst to Sofia, her friends had witnessed the entire scene. “Did you not know?” Sofia asked Sarah, wiping down the bar in an effort to focus her thoughts. Sarah hesitated before responding, her expression conflicted. “I did…” she trailed off.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sofia’s voice quivered with confusion and hurt, her brows furrowing. “I didn’t know they were together!” Sarah’s voice was defensive yet apologetic. “I thought they were just hooking up, but I guess not…” She shrugged, a look of regret crossing her face.

“How long?” Sofia finally spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. Sarah hesitated, meeting Sofia’s gaze for a fleeting moment before answering, “About a month, now?” Sofia fell silent, her lips pressed tightly together as she struggled to maintain her composure. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them spill over.

“Shit. They’re even matching clothes and everything,” Pope muttered under his breath, the disbelief evident in his voice. His words were abruptly silenced by a firm slap from John B on his chest.

“Sofia…” JJ began, his tone soft and filled with concern. But Sofia, determined not to let her emotions show, dismissed him with a wave of her hand. A solitary tear had slipped down her cheek, betraying her true feelings, which she quickly wiped away.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They look good together anyway,” she added, casting a fleeting glance at you and Rafe. The sight of you both seemed to sting, but she tried to mask it.

Clearing her throat, Sofia straightened up, striving to maintain her composure. “I’m just gonna go back to work,” she said, her voice steadying as she turned away. With a final, determined breath, she walked off, leaving her friends behind, trying to hold herself together.

[byproducts-of-my-imagination]

Everyone Hates Todo Except You

The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive.   You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking.  He’s just so intense.  I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.

~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!

At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business.  But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it.  Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him.  At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.

“It’s not fair!  Why do I have to do it?”  Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.  

“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it!  We'll back you up.”  Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.

Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment.  She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo?  Could you move all this stuff please?  You’re starting to block the hallway.”

“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up.  Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”

“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…”  The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.

Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner.  Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him.  And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.  

Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been.  He knew this was the likeliest outcome.  Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him.  He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.  There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away.  But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures.  No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world.  He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend.  And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon.  As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.  

A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan.  He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field.  Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children.  As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view.  I’ll never get tired of seeing her.

“Todo, is everything okay?  What’s up?”  A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising.  God, even your voice was perfect.

“I love you.  Promise me, y/n.  That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.”  He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.

“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date?  I like you too.”  While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo.  You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.

“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!”  A single tear ran down Todo’s face.   

Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.  

“Ugh that gorilla?  You guys are dating now?”  Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.  

“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.

“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction. 

“We’re dating now!  He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.  

“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement.  However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.  

“What are you guys talking about?”  he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.  

“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.”  Mai minces no words for Todo.  With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.  

“My love, I made lunch for us.  I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates.  But I will be devoted.  I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.”  he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins.  His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.  

“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me.  I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t.  I also think you’re quite handsome.”  

“You love me back?”  he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you.  While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him. 

“I do love you back.”  He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest.  It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.  

[moonstruckme]

absolutely live for ur roommate!james could you maybe write one on him meeting some of readers friends for the first time or calling james to pick u up after a girls night 😇would love to see him finally feel “included” in our life like we are in his

Thank you for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words

James is so absorbed in the football match on his phone that when there’s a tap on the window next to his face, he jolts halfway across the center console and squeaks like he’s twelve years old again. 

You’re beaming outside the car. Your shoulders shake with quiet, un-self-conscious laughter, so it’s impossible for James to be any kind of upset. Still, he makes a show of huffing a little as his own smile spreads. He reaches over and opens his door. 

“Sorry,” you say. You don’t look it, so he lets you off the hook for your over-apologizing. 

“Who do you think would drive you home if I had a heart attack?” James asks. He’s somewhat breathless, either because of the scare or the easier-than-usual grin still fixed on your face. 

You lean against the side of his car and roll your eyes. “Oh, your heart’s too healthy to be in danger of attacks.” 

“What are you doing on this side of the car? You’re the passenger, you know.”

“Okay, listen.” You give him a very intentional look. It’s more eye contact than he’s used to from you, and it makes his guts go all twisty in a surprisingly nice way. “It’s completely up to you, of course, but I think I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.” 

It clicks into place. “You’re drunk.” 

“Not very.” Your grin is a short fall from impish. Your eyes sparkle. God help him. “But you’re about to be.” 

James feels his eyebrows float up. “How do you figure?” 

“Because I’ve come to collect you. If you want.” 

“To collect me…where?”

“Inside,” you say, as though this should be obvious. You tip your head towards the restaurant. “We’ve just closed, and we have so much wine. Pleasepleaseplease, James, come in.” 

“Okay.” He’s letting you tug him from his car before he knows what he’s agreed to, only that one please will always be enough to get whatever you want from him. “Alright, love, but doesn’t your manager mind that you’re drinking their wine?” 

You let loose a bark of laughter, loud and sharp and totally unlike you. “Tom? Yeah, right.” 

Tom, James learns quickly upon entering the rowdy atmosphere of your workplace after hours, is younger than the both of you, hardly old enough to serve alcohol and yet managing the restaurant. And the wine isn’t stolen, necessarily, but the fortunate leavings of a wealthy customer who bought more bottles than his table could handle and then left nearly all of them. 

Everyone who’d been on the night shift is strewn about the empty restaurant. Servers and busboys and dishwashers all perched on stools, standing behind the bar, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on tables. You take James by the hand, first reclaiming the bottle of wine you’d evidently stored behind the host’s station and then leading him around the room to introduce him to various coworkers. His hand feels warm and tingly. You have an easy repartee and a million in-jokes with the servers, but even the kitchen staff seems to adore you. As they rightly should, James thinks. It’s obvious you’re as kind and considerate here as you are at home, and he feels a bit silly for not having been able to picture you in this place so clearly before now. 

Art is working with you again tonight. It’s embarrassing, the warm wave of relief that James feels when he notices you don’t pay him any extra attention. He makes a mental note to extend his offer of a ride home more often. Every time your hand starts to slip from James’, you readjust your grip before he can even think of doing it himself. Suits him just fine; ever since your mugging incident, suddenly James is in this weird place where he always wants a hand on you.

You say his name, and then the lip of a bottle is being pushed against his lips. 

“You haven’t had hardly any.” You look like you’re trying to pout, but your eyes are smiling. 

James takes the bottle from you. He looks you in the eyes as he takes a sip as if to say, Happy? It’s barely enough to warm his throat. “I am still driving us home, you know.”  

The pout is getting better. “I know, but I’m trying to be fun for you. You don’t have to drive us if you don’t want to! You’re always the one doing the nice things.” 

“Oh, don’t.” His tone is fonder than he means for it to be, but luckily you’re too tipsy to mind. “You’re plenty fun. You do nice things for me all the time.” 

“Yeah, but not enough to balance out.” You make your eyes big and pitiful. James feels fortunate this isn’t a skill you seem inclined to utilize sober. “Obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but—Jamie, don’t hold back because of me, please.” 

His stomach does an impressive flip. He doesn’t think you realize you’ve called him that, doubts you’d have done it under normal circumstances, but his nervous system cares not for rationalizations. He wants desperately to hear you say it again. 

You beam as James lifts the bottle to his lips again, taking a few hearty gulps. You both end up walking home that night, but you wake even before James to go retrieve his car in the morning.

[libingan]

— tf141 calling you “ma’am.”

no smut, only fluff

JOHN PRICE

you’re preparing for a cozy movie night and have a specific vision in mind. you turn to john with a list of tasks. “john, could you move that armchair closer to the middle? i want to make sure we get enough light for our movie marathon,” you instruct.

john flashes a playful grin and replies, “yes, ma’am.” he lifts the armchair with ease, carefully positioning it just where you want it. he checks it from different angles to ensure it’s perfect, making sure the light hits just right. once he’s satisfied, he looks over with a smile. “what’s next, ma’am?”

you direct him to arrange the snacks. “the popcorn goes on the left side of the table, and the chips on the right. make it look inviting,” you say. john nods, his focus clearly on creating the perfect setup. “on it, ma’am,” he says, arranging each item with meticulous care.

after setting up the snacks, you notice the pillows on the couch look a bit out of place. “can you fluff these pillows a bit more? i want them to look just right,” you request. john chuckles softly and responds, “absolutely, ma’am,” as he fluffs each pillow to perfection. he checks and re-checks their placement, making sure they’re exactly how you like them.

as you think of more details to perfect the evening, you ask him to adjust the drinks. “the drinks need to be kept on one side, can you do that ?” john adjusts the drinks with a practiced hand, saying, “yes, ma’am.”

by the time you’re done with all the adjustments, john has followed your directions to the letter. his willingness to accommodate your every request highlights his affection and dedication to making the evening special for you.

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

you’re preparing for a shopping trip and have gathered a large number of items. you turn to kyle with a stack of bags and hand him the first one. “kyle, can you hold onto this for me?” you ask, passing him the first bag.

“yes, ma’am,” kyle replies with a grin, taking the bag from you. as you continue to collect more items, you hand him another. “and this one too, please.”

kyle shifts the bags to balance them better and responds, “yes, ma’am,” taking the new item with ease. you keep adding more bags, and each time, kyle responds with a cheerful “yes, ma’am,” as he adjusts his hold.

after a while, you’ve accumulated quite a stack of bags and packages. you hand him a few more smaller items, each time asking him to hold onto them. “i’ve got a few more things,” you say, handing over the last items.

“yes, ma’am,” kyle says, adjusting his grip to accommodate the new load. despite the growing pile of bags, he maintains a good-natured demeanor. “anything else you need me to carry, ma’am?” he asks with a smile. his readiness to help shows his enjoyment in being of service to you.

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

you’ve caught johnny leaving dirty dishes around the kitchen and decide it’s time for a chat. “johnny, we need to talk about cleaning up after yourself,” you say, trying to keep it light-hearted.

johnny looks a bit sheepish but responds with a nod. “aye, alright, ma’am,” he says, picking up a plate and heading to the sink. he starts rinsing off the remnants of his meal, scrubbing the plate with a determined focus.

as he works, you continue the conversation. “you know, johnny, leaving dishes everywhere makes more work for everyone.” johnny nods, scrubbing away. “aye, i ken, ma’am,” he replies, giving the plate a final rinse before moving on to the next one.

you notice a few utensils left behind. “don’t forget to wash the utensils too,” you remind him. johnny looks up with a grin and says, “aye, i’ll get tae it, ma’am,” as he tackles the utensils with the same thoroughness.

once he’s done with the dishes, you point out some crumbs on the counter. “and don’t forget to wipe down the counters,” you add. johnny grabs a cloth and starts cleaning, his tone still light-hearted. “got it, ma’am,” he replies as he meticulously wipes down every surface.

as he finishes up, you mention the floor needs sweeping. “the floor needs to be swept too,” you say. johnny grabs the broom and starts sweeping. “anything else ye need, ma’am?” he asks with a playful tone, clearly taking your instructions to heart while maintaining a light-hearted approach.

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

you’re relaxing on the couch, lost in a book, when simon quietly enters the room with a tray. “i thought you might need this, ma’am,” he says softly, setting down a steaming cup of tea on the coffee table next to you.

you take a sip and smile, feeling the warmth of the tea. “this is perfect, simon. thank you,” you say, feeling content. simon sits down beside you, his presence comforting. “how’s the tea, ma’am?” he asks, his tone gentle and caring.

“it’s exactly what i needed,” you reply. simon’s eyes light up, clearly pleased with his little gesture. “is there anything else you need, ma’am?” he asks, eager to ensure your comfort.

if you mention needing a blanket, simon immediately gets up, retrieves it, and drapes it over you. “here you go, ma’am,” he says, adjusting it to make sure you’re snug. if you ask for anything else, such as adjusting the lighting or fetching a remote, simon is quick to respond.

“just let me know if there’s anything else, ma’am,” he says each time, his voice filled with genuine attentiveness. whether it’s adjusting the room temperature or fetching a book, he shows his dedication to ensuring you’re completely comfortable.

[lovifie]

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 7: Price’s Date

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

W: Price x Reader, inaccuracies around gun-related stuff, use of Sir (like a brat), something with cameras.

Not too far away, at the base, a phone rings inside Price's office. His eyebrow furrows for a second at the unknown ringtone, until he remembers is the burner phone he has with only your number on it, the same case for all the 141 task force. An extra security step he is more than willing to take. 

“What’s wrong, love?” He asks, once he picks up the phone, worry clear in his voice. 

“Nothing!” You quickly reassure him. “I was just wondering… are you busy tomorrow?”

Price looks at his agenda, it is filled to the brim with meetings and things to do. “I could move some things, why?”

“I thought you would like to go on a date… with me?”

“Are you… are you asking me out on a date, doll?”

You remain silent for a second. “Maybe… Only if you want…”

“I do!” He quickly says before you can step back. “I just thought it would be me asking you out.”

“So do it.”

Price chuckles, the sound travelling through to your ears making you smile. “Do you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You quickly answer. “I would like it very much, John.” 

The sound of his name leaving your mouth travelling straight to his dick. “Sounds like a date then, love. I’ll drop by the house tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you then the time, sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect.” You mutter back. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, love.”

After another beat of silence, the beep beep beep indicates one of you hung up. 

Price claps his hands as if his football team just scored a goal before quickly collecting himself and getting back to work wanting to get done as much as possible. 

On the other side of the line, Johnny keeps teasing you about how you looked like a teenager asking his crush out while Simon laughs at the both of you.

“You are just teasing me ‘cause you are jealous you were not the first one.” You say sticking your tongue to him as you sit on Simon’s lap like a kid hiding behind his parent.

Johnny looks at you offended while Simon laughs at him before adding. “She got you there, mate”

“Good morning, lovie.” Price says smiling when you open the door for him in the morning, stepping aside to let him in. “Good morning, John. I’m still having breakfast, want to join me?” You ask smiling.

“I’ll join you to the end of the world, love. Breakfast is just a plus.” He says dropping a kiss to your forehead as he walks in. “I brought you this.” He adds, raising his hand and letting you see the bag he is holding.

“And what is that?” You ask taking the bag from his hand when he lends it to you. You leave it on the table as you fill a second cup with coffee for him, both of you sitting down before you take the bag again to check what's inside. “Oh! This is mine!” You say surprised.

Price smiles back at your surprised expression and says: “We went back to your apartment, picked up everything that we left the last time. It is mostly bathroom stuff, and some clothes we were able to find.” 

“Aw, John… Thank you, really.” You say looking through your stuff, until you come across an unfamiliar red colour. “John?”

“Yes, doll?”

“How many women being followed by terrorists do you know?

“Hm, a couple actually. You are the only one I'm hiding, though.”

“Johnathan!” You exclaim slapping his arms when he laughs. He grabs your hands, kissing your knuckles and keeps your hand on his.

“Keep saying my name and we will not be leaving the house today, love.” He says looking at your eyes with a smirk on his face.

“Another chance, John. How many?” You ask, raising a finger keeping the rest interlocked with his, raising an eyebrow. 

“Only you, love. I promise.” He says smiling softly, no teasing left in his voice. “I bought you that dress, for tonight, you silly girl. You could get me on my knees in your pyjama, but I assumed you would rather wear something fancier.”

“Oh.” You say a little bit embarrassed, but accepting the compliment. “Okay.” 

He chuckles softly at you, drinking his coffee and standing up, he cups your face with both his hands before kissing your lips harshly before pulling away. “I'll pick you up at seven, love. Be ready by then.” 

You nod quickly, he gives you one more kiss and he says goodbye before heading out to work.

You basically start getting ready after lunch, you don't have much to do anyway. So you run yourself a bath, taking your time, not a rush in you. 

It makes you think about how your life was just a couple of days ago, you didn't even have a bathtub and now? Two baths in two days! 

The dress Price brought you fits you like a glove, and you make a mental note to ask about it. Almost your whole back is exposed, the dress almost reaching the floor with the heels on. You choose a red lipstick that luckily matches the red colour of the dress and decide to do your hair up so it doesn't cover your back. 

You look at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom, happy with the result. And if there was any bit of self-doubt left in you, it quickly dissipates the moment you walk into the living room where the other three men are currently at. Laughing when their mouth falls open like in the cartoons.

“Fuckin' hell, bonnie.” Johnny groans looking at you.

“Alright, is she ready?” Price asks entering the flat, a small bouquet of roses in his hand and a suit that could be tailored by how well it fits him. You walk up to him smiling, bending down a bit to smell the flower. “For me?” You ask softly.

He nods, unable to find words to answer and helps you take the bouquet taking care that you won't touch any thorn. Once on your hands, you walk to the kitchen to put them in water. Price looks at you up and down when he sees the dress flow with every movement of your hips. He definitely needs to send a good bottle of wine to Laswell for her help choosing the dress. 

“Ready?” You ask looking at him once you are back and you find him with his eyes still staring at where they were before you entered the kitchen. He quickly looks up at your face and smiles. “And waiting, love. Let's go.” He finally says, lending you his arm which you gladly grab. He turns back to the three massive scary military men in your living room who look like kids who have gotten their desert stolen. “Good night, boys. Be nice, we'll see you tomorrow.” You chuckle blowing them a kiss and getting out first, what you don't see behind your back is the way Price raises his hand with his middle finger out and a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Fuckin' bastard” Soap chuckles once the door closes.

Once on the street, you take a deep breath, savouring finally being out of the house. And Price must take notice because when both of you are sitting in the car (he opened the door for you, of course), he pulls your window down slightly letting the night air hit you. 

“I’m definitely making all of you take me out more often.” You say looking out the window.

“And we will do it gladly, love.” He says resting a hand on your thigh. “You just gotta ask.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” You say smiling resting your hand on top of his. 

The street air flows through the open window taking with it the last worries on your mind, it is easy being with him. With the four of them to be honest.

“Are you hungry, love?” He asks, moving his hand from your thigh to the gearstick to switch gears as he gets closer to the restaurant. 

“I'm starving, Captain.” You say smiling when he side eyes after you talk. Chuckling softly at the double meaning of your words. Once the car is parked, he exits the car to open your door, holding his hand out for you. 

The restaurant must be the fanciest you have ever set foot inside of, as soon as you enter a waiter comes to walk the both of you to your table. The other guests are calmly eating at their table, the decorations of the plans and folding screens making it feel like a separate room for each couple. 

Price pulls your chair back to allow you to sit and then push you closer to the table. A waiter comes after a while to take note, and not much later comes back with a bottle of wine. He pours the glasses and Price and you are left alone.

“Can I ask you something, John?” You ask, resting your hand on top of his, caressing it with your fingertips. He quickly nods, and you add: “How… how did the relationship between the four of you work?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It's a bit blurry how it started to be completely honest… As a team we expend so much time together, we must trust each other with our lives, and sometimes these things just… happen?” He ask, just to check if you understand. He continues when you nod. “It was not the four of us at first, Soap and Simon were the closest and as far as I know, the ones who did it first. Then Gaz and I were sent on a mission together for a couple of months and it simply happened. Then Gaz and Soap talked about it, they got drunk and did it too. After that, we realised we were not hurting anybody so… we continued.”

“And now there is me…” You add, looking down at his hand. There is an underlying question, about how exactly do you fit in a relationship that seems to have been built around a web of trust and years of knowing each other. And now you appear, and in 48 hours, you are in the centre of it all. 

“And now there is you.” Price answers, interlacing his fingers with yours. “And we are really happy you are, you know that right?” He asks, and he squeezes your hand when you don't answer him. “Look at me, birdie.”

“I'm sorry.” You mutter looking up at him. “I'm sorry, I know we talked about it, but I can't help it, I'm sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, easy now, love. Don't apologise.” He says, extending his arm easily reaching the other side of the table to cup your face. “What is it, love?”

“It's just… you are like… bigger than the CIA.” You whisper, unsure of how much you can say. “And it's not only like, the name. The four of you are just… so big, and cool, and handsome, and nice, and kind, and strong, and you can fight, and people respect all of you… and me… I'm a fucking loser.” 

“Now, that's where I'm going to stop you. Because I'm not letting you shit talk about my girl, birdie.” He says, bopping your nose with his finger as he does. “You are not a loser. You are breathtaking, you have a job, you have a house, you have a car, you are smart, you are kind and for god's sake, birdie, you have an entire SAS task force begging you to even look at them. Take pride in that, love.”

“But that's not the same, Price. What if… what if my apartment didn't have the hiding spot on top of the closet?” You ask, and you can see his expression change, disliking to even think of the possibilities. “I would have been at their mercy so fucking easy, you remember how easy it was for Soap and Ghost to pick me up and handcuff me to Gaz. They'll raise their voice at me a bit too much and they'll have me at my knees begging for forgiveness because that's the only thing I know how to do. Fucking useless…”

“And if you knew how to fight back?” He asks, looking directly at your eyes. “Would it help you feel better?”

“I don't want to be even a bigger burden, Price.” You sigh, unconsciously pouting slightly.

“That's not what I asked, birdie. Would it help if you knew how to fight back? How to defend yourself?” He asks, and when you nod, he nods back, thinking to himself. “All right, luckily for you, I know just the Captain to teach you a couple of tricks.” He says, making you smile. At that moment, the food arrives at the table and when the waiter walks back, he says; “So eat up, we have things to do tonight, love.

Dinner turns out to be delicious, nothing that you didn't expect. And after enjoying each other company through it, he pays for the food and walks along you back to the car.

You still don't know what's his plan, and he won't tell you any more information than what he has already. It's not until later, when he is already driving that you start to recognise the road and you ask: “Are we going to the base?”

He nods. “I'm gonna train you. Is as good as any time to start doing it, right?” He asks, smiling at you.

“Is it?” You ask, looking at the clothes the both of you are wearing. “Aren't we dressed a little bit too fancy?”

“Well, you never know when you are going to be attacked, it'll add to the realism.” He answers chuckling, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow before shaking your head and smiling as well. 

Once he parks in the base, he opens your door again and the both of you walk hand in hand to the shooting range. He turns on the lights to illuminate the empty room and walks to one of the cupboards on the side. He opens it, taking a gun, some bullets and a pair of glasses for eye protection from the inside. He puts the glasses on you, smiling for himself and hands you the gun.

You pick it up, a bit surprised by the weight and look up at him. “Straight to shooting? I was expecting maybe some sparring for my first class, John.” 

He chuckles nodding before saying: “I know, but it's really weird to find the shooting range empty. So let's take advantage of it, shall we? First lesson, how to reload the gun.”

He explains to you how to do it, stirring something in you as he uses a different from what you are used to. You assume that's how he talks to his soldier when instructing them, and even though a part of you is curious about what he must sound like when he is pissed at them, you follow the instructions earning yourself a “Good girl” that has you smiling and blushing like an idiot.

He steps behind you, separating your feet with his foot and telling you what's the best position. His chest is pressed to your back and his hands are around your hands. He points to a little relief on the end of the barrel and says: “This is the front sight, and this is the rear sight.” He says pointing to a second one on the back. “Align them, and then you'll know where you are aiming. Once you have done that, take the safety back and pull the trigger. Careful with the recoil, I'll help you with this one.”

You follow his instructions, grabbing the gun with steady hands so it doesn't fly away once you press the trigger and when you can see the target through the align sight, you shoot. Price's hands over yours keep the gun in place, and he looks up to the screen on top of you to see where the bullet hit and he whistles looking back at you. “You hit the target, birdie. Quite impressive, love.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You say and chuckle when he looks at you with a face. “What? You don't like it when I call you sir?”

“You have a gun on your hands, birdie. Behave.” He says sternly but still gently. “Shoot again.”

“Yes, Sir.” You say smiling and going back to aiming the gun. Just when you are about to shoot, Price presses his growing boner against your arse, completely distracting you and sending the bullet out or the target.

“Birdie! That was worse.” Price says behind you, with a fake worrying tone.

“What did you expect?” You exclaim, looking back at him offended.

“Now, now. It's part of the training, love. You need to work through the distractions.” He says chuckling.

“Yeah, I'm sure all of the boys went through it.” You reply.

“Gaz did.” He says simply. “And he didn't complain, so back to work.”

You groan, clearly knowing what he planning on doing and getting ready for the teasing he is about to put you through. You close one eye to be able to focus more clearly, and position the gun to shoot and again, just before you pull the trigger, he rubs against you making you miss the target. He laughs softly behind you and you groan pulling your head back “John!” you whine

“What is it, love?” He asks nonchalantly. “I am not going to learn like this.” You answer looking back at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He says peppering your exposed shoulder with kisses. “You are right, I’m sorry, birdie, you just make me lose my mind so easily. Get back at it, I’ll try my best to not eat you up for now.”

You shake your head at his dramatism and raise the gun again. Once Price is back in Captain's mood it is fairly easy to get the hang of it, after a while letting you hold the gun on your own, the recoil shaking your whole body the first couple of shots. Not that Price shamelessly ogles your whole body when it jiggled because of the shoot. At the end, and actually fairly soon you get more and more clean shots, getting closer and closer to the bullseye earning yourself a pat on the back by Price. “You’re a natural, birdie. I’ll keep you in mind if we get an opening.” He jokes making you laugh.

“Sure, I’m sure I’ll be at you guys level in a week.” You joke back and then look at him. “You can go back now.”

“Sorry?” He asks raising an eyebrow.

“You know, back to that… distraction training thing.” You say, struggling to keep the eye contact and when he gets what you are talking about he laughs loudly before going back to hugging you from behind. “Does my sweet girl want a bit more extra training?” He says grinding against your arse, his boner more prominent now than on his last try. You nod breathless, unable to speak. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir”

A groan is everything you hear before he grabs your hips pushing you flush against him. He kisses your neck leaving a wet trail as he goes up to your ear. “Shoot the gun, birdie. Don’t miss.”

You try to focus as hard as you can with his warm mouth against the skin of your neck and his hard dick in between your ass cheeks; when you shoot it goes terribly out of the target and when he realizes a slap lands on your clothed cunt making you shake a whine escaping your mouth. “Again, birdie.”

As you adjust the gun, you feel his hand find its way under your dress beginning to rub your cunt over your underwear. When you are about to shoot, he presses his index finger against your clit making you miss again and another slap land on you, harder with the loss of the dress in the way. “You are getting these underwear ruined, birdie. Such a nasty girl. Try again, and I'll give you something.”

Once again, you raise the gun, closing your eyes for a second when he circles your clit with his fingertips. He gets his hand under your underwear, slipping his finger back and forth from your hole to your clit. You can feel your whole body shake, but somehow your hand remain steady and when you shoot this time you feel his finger enter your cunt forcing you to close your eyes. You leave the gun on the table, not trusting yourself with your eyes closes and whole body shaking again once Price begins to piston his finger in and out of your cunt making you moan his name. 

His other arm finds his way around your neck, pushing you up and keeping you in a headlock only able to moan his name and take his finger in your cunt. “Look at the screen, birdie.” He whispers in your ear, and when you look up you notice the bullet hit straight into the bullseye, a weak smile appearing on your face. 

“Such a good fucking girl, birdie. Shooting so good so soon.” He whispers against your skin as he enters a second finger into you making you whine at the stretch. “Now I need to give you something, right?” He asks and you quickly nod moaning. “How about I give you a good fuck, birdie? Hm? Almost my whole team has already got a taste of fucking your sweet little cunt, and here I am, waiting for you to let me get inside, love. You want that, birdie? Are you gonna let the Captain fuck you stupid, hm?”

You eagerly nod earning a chuckle from him, but his fingers don't stop fucking your cunt the ball of his hand hitting your clit with every thrust sending a shock up your spine. You can only whine and moan at his mercy as you feel your orgasm approach, for a second you fear he might leave you wanting but you quickly realize that he much rather have you crying from overstimulation. You come with a loud moan of his name as you whip your head back on his shoulder unable to stay still as he keeps going not slowing down making your juices lazily drip down his hand.

“Ask for it, birdie. Please, I want to hear you ask for it.” He says, moving the arm from your neck letting you hold yourself up holding onto the table, slowing his fingers but still slowly fucking you.

“Please… Fuck me, please, John.” You half moan, looking back at him from over your shoulder. Price groans letting his forehead rest on your back, laughing to himself. “Birdie, you are going to kill me one of these days.” He says before dropping a kiss to where your exposed back begins and dragging his tongue up to your nape making you whine and arc your back onto him. 

You hear the unmistakable sound of his belt getting undone, and you feel his fingers slip from your cunt only to appear right on your lips. “Taste yourself, birdie. Taste how fucking delicious you are.” You take his finger on your mouth, making him groan as you hear him fist himself; his tip grazing your wet cunt once he moves your underwear to the side. He pushes his finger down on your tongue, forcing you to open your mouth and a loud moan leaves your mouth as his dick enters your pussy stretching you out. 

And then, a series of praises and compliments begin to fall from Price’s mouth as he fucks you that takes your mind to a blissful state where the only thing you can do is moan and take in the love Price is pouring onto you. “My sweet fucking girl… taking my dick so fucking good, the best fucking pussy I have ever had, love. You just fucking ruined me for everyone else, gonna keep you with me forever, hm? You’ll like that, birdie? Keeping you with me forever, and with the boys. Oh, birdie, if you have heard them… fuck… fucking obsessed with you, birdie. Stay with us, birdie. We’ll be good, I promised. We’ll take care of you, of everything you want, everything you need.”

To hear the respectable Captain Price practically whine in your ear, begging you to stay with him has you weak on your knees and you fear you may collapse when the hand on your hips disappear for a moment. It quickly comes back, and the hand inside your mouth goes out grabbing your jaw instead and forcing you to look at the screen, and the sight makes your eyes widen. 

On the screen is the clear image of you getting your gut rearranged by the 141 Captain, being livestream by the security camera of the shooting range. Price goes back to whispering filth in your ear when he feels you clench. “Look how good you fucking look, birdie. Going to fucking steal the footage, watch it every night. How about we let the boys see it, hm? How good you take my cock on this tight fucking pussy, hm? Like a fucking champ.”

You whine clenching again earning a groan from him, unable to peel your eyes away both by his hand and by the hypnotic image on the screen. The mental image of Price or any of the boys pleasuring themselves with the ongoing images has you getting closer and closer to the edge, and Price must be able to tell because he gets a hand down to your clit rubbing quick circles in it making you cum with a loud moan as you clench on him like a vice. He groans behind you, your hands find their way back to the edge of the table when he takes back the hand from your jaw, just to slap your ass making you whine and grabs your hips fucking you hard, the sound of his hips hitting the meat of your ass filling the room. You wouldn't be surprised if you woke up to bruises on your body, Price chasing his own release like a madman moaning your name when he finally reaches it releasing his hot cum inside of you. 

Still buried inside of you, he hugs you from behind his forehead resting on your shoulder, groaning when he feels you clench around him from the aftershock of your orgasm. He raises, grabbing your leg in the process and raising it, leaving you spread-legged directly to the camera. “Show the boys, doll. Did I fuck you nice, birdie?” He asks, and when you nod without talking he gives you a quick thrust with his softening dick making you moan of overstimulation. “Words, birdie.”

“Yes, Sir.” You moan softly, and whine when Price bends down biting the joint of your shoulder and neck hard, possessiveness taking over him and urging him to leave a mark on you as if his cum leaking from your cunt around his dick wasn't enough. “Good fucking girl, birdie. So fucking good.” He says licking the mark of his teeth he just left. He leaves your leg down, dropping kisses around your shoulder before asking: “Can you hold still for a minute, birdie? I’m gonna be back in just a minute, I promise.” You nod, leaning more of your weight onto the table making him chuckle and you hear him walk away. 

Being true to his word, he comes back just a minute later, a pen drive in his hand and two hours' worth of footage deleted from the security system. He lifts you bridal style and he starts to walk to his room, turning the lights off on his way out. 

Once inside his room, he takes your clothes off as well as his own and gets in the shower with him. A warm innocent shower, just him washing the sweat and saliva of your body. Once the both of you are cleaned, he covers you with a towel sitting you on the toilet and uses a wet towel to clean the make-up off your face. The both of you brush your teeth in comfortable silence and then he dries you up. Neither of you bothers to put on any clothes before getting under the cover, the heat of each other body keeping you warm.

Price cups your face, finally kissing you for the first time in the whole night, sealing the deal of all the promises and feelings he professed for you. He lets you readjust your position against him before hugging you and whispers before falling asleep. “Sleep nice, birdie.”

Hii 💗

Hope you liked the first date with the boys, Price won the poll like, with a huge difference 🤣 so I hope I met the expectations.

I already have most of the other dates planned, but let me know if you would like for something to happen hehe.

Thank you so much for the support, make sure to leave a comment if you liked it so I can see, really I love to read the comments so don't be worried about writing.

If you want to be added to the permanent link it is on my masterlist, and I love you guys ❤️❤️❤️

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[tortillamastersblog]

ᗢ Take My Hand | Wanda Maximoff ᗢ

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: steamy scene, violence, major injuries, and angst

Summary: A collection of the three times you comfort Wanda when she is scared of her own powers. . .

Continuation: Enough

________________________________________________

The first time

“Okay, you’re good to go.” Dr. Cho finishes stitching up my shoulder and gestures for me to get off the table.

I thank her and put my shirt back on, leaving with a smile and a small wave.

The flight back from Lagos was exhausting and I can’t wait to just crawl under the covers of my bed and fall asleep.

I showered earlier and I thought I could go to bed right then and there, but Nat noticed the cut on my shoulder wasn’t healing the way it usually does, so she sent me to see Dr. Cho to get it stitched up.

I make my way through the dark compound and toward my room, expecting to find a familiar redhead under the covers of my bed, but she isn’t there.

I frown and look around, noticing the door to the bathroom is standing slightly ajar, a sliver of light from inside escaping onto the hardwood floor of the bedroom.

I close the door behind me and walk toward the bathroom, carefully pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The sight that greets me makes my heart ache.

The room is illuminated by the flashlight on Wanda’s phone which is sitting on the sink with the screen faced down.

It’s not much, and any other person would have probably missed the dark figure sitting curled up against the shower wall but I don’t because of the connection the mind stone has created between Wanda and me.

We were both experimented on by Hydra, the only two differences being that I was dead when they used the stone on me and they did it when they first got their hands on it back in the 1940’s. I was in the army back then and was killed in action before Schmidt recovered my body, somehow giving me powers and bringing me back to life.

They thought it didn’t work though, which is why they put me on the bomber plane that Steve ultimately crashed into the Arctic. They were planning on throwing my body off out over the sea to get rid of the evidence of their experiments, but because of the turn of events, I was stuck in the ice with Steve for sixty years before S.H.I.E.L.D. found and recruited us.

Wanda’s soft sobs fill the silence, each one making my chest hurt, and I’m quick to rush to her side, kneeling down in front of her after turning off the running water.

The tiles are wet and when I carefully place a hand on her knee, I notice that her clothes are soaked as well.

She freezes and buries her face in her knees even more, the hold she has around her own legs tightening.

“You know you’re supposed to take your clothes off before showering, right?” I whisper softly, not bothering to ask why she’s crying because I already know the reason.

The whole flight back from Lagos she was shaking and staring at nothing with a far off look in her eyes.

She blames herself for what happened and even though people did die because of her losing control, she also saved countless of lives on the ground.

Wanda doesn’t react to my attempt at a joke and I sigh, moving forward and unwrapping her arms from around her legs.

She whimpers in protest but I keep going, slipping my arms under hers and getting up, pulling her to her feet with me.

She sobs and tightens her hold on me, her face landing in the crook of my neck.

“It will be okay, darling,” I whisper, not caring that my clothes are getting wet. “It’s not your fault.”

Wanda shakes her head and another sob escapes her lips.

Then, as if realizing something, she pushes me back and stares at the bandage that pokes out from underneath my shirt.

“You’re hurt,” she croaks. “I hurt you.”

I frown and go to grab her hand, but she pulls away “What are you talking about? You didn’t hurt me.”

Wanda nods frantically and stares at her hands with watery eyes. “You got caught in the blast.”

“Wanda, I did, but—“

“No,” she whimpers. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

Her bottom lip begins to tremble as a tear rolls down her cheek and her knees start to buckle.

Ignoring her hands which are trying to keep me away, I step into her space and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her up.

She fights me for a few seconds, whimpering, “No, no. Get away from me. I don’t want to hurt you again,” before she stops and melts into the embrace.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

Wanda sobs and curls her fingers around the fabric of my shirt. “I’m a monster. . .”

“No you’re not.” I state firmly, squeezing her in my arms.

“You should be afraid of me,” she argues weakly.

I blink a couple of times to get rid of my own tears and shake my head. The fact that she’s thinking of herself like this, makes my heart ache and my throat burn with unshed tears.

“Wanda,” I whisper pulling back just enough to meet her gaze. Her eyes are filled with hurt and despair and I take a deep breath, moving my hands from her waist to cup her cheeks. “I will say this as many times as I have to. . . I will never— you hear me— never be afraid of you and your powers. I love you and you couldn’t hurt me even if you tried.”

A new wave of tears streams down her cheeks and I use the pads of my thumbs to wipe them away. She lifts a hand and places it over my injured shoulder.

“But today—“

I shake my head again and press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s nothing, darling. Please, trust me on that. It’s just taking a little longer to heal because I’m exhausted and drained.”

“Y/N. . .” she protests weakly and I step back and take her shaking hands.

She watches with wide eyes, trying to pull away but I tighten my grip and hold her gaze as I lift her hands and press a kiss to each palm.

“I love you, Wanda,” I say firmly, bringing her hands to cup my cheeks. “And I love your powers. You’re beautiful inside and out and I don’t want to spend a single moment of my life without you. So please, stop. I’m not scared of you.”

Wanda’s red-rimmed eyes dance over my face, obviously looking for any doubt on my part, and when she doesn’t find any, she surges forward and kisses me.

Her lips are chapped and I can taste her tears, but I don’t care, letting go of her hands and pulling her closer.

“I love you, too,” she whispers against my lips before leaning back in, trying to deepen the kiss.

I stop her before she gets a chance though, not wanting to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable moment, and squeeze her hips. “We should get some sleep, darling.”

Wanda sighs and nods, resting her forehead on my sternum. “Okay. . .”

I help her out of her shirt and jeans, giving her one last peck on the lips before leaving her to take a proper shower.

While she showers I change into a new, dry set of clothes and slip under the covers of the bed.

It’s not even five minutes later that the door to the bathroom reopens and Wanda emerges in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

I lift the covers with one arm, extending my other in invitation, and let it drop back down once she has slipped into bed, pressed against my side with one of her legs thrown over my hips.

“I love you,” she says when I start running my fingers through her damp hair.

“I love you, too, darling,” I whisper. “Now get some rest.”

Wanda sighs and noses forward, pressing a kiss to the underside of my jaw before settling back down and closing her eyes.

Within a couple of minutes she’s asleep and I continue to scratch at her scalp until I drift off myself.

The second time

I’m as relaxed as ever listening to Wanda playing her guitar quietly.

We’re on our bed with the lights turned down low and a storm raging on outside, the rain and wind whipping against the windows.

Wanda is sitting with her back against the headboard and I’m lying on my side, watching her with adoration.

Her nimble fingers are picking a calming melody and if it weren’t for my inability to take my eyes off her, I would have fallen asleep a long time ago.

It’s been a little over three weeks since the Lagos incident and even though Wanda still feels guilty about it she’s doing better. I’ve done my best to be by her side whenever she has a bad day and keep her from watching the news.

“You’re staring, moya lyubov,” Wanda says, glancing at me before returning her attention to the guitar.

I smile, not at all fazed that I’ve been caught “I can’t help it. You’re just so beautiful.”

She chuckles shyly and continues playing, her eyes meeting mine every now and then before she stops abruptly, catching me off guard.

She sets the guitar down next to the bed and moves to straddle my hips, forcing me to lie on my back.

I blink at her in surprise and raise a questioning eyebrow, my hands automatically moving to rest on her thighs.

“What are you doing?” I whisper breathlessly when her she place her hands on my lower stomach.

Her eyebrows are furrowed and it looks like she’s conflicted about something, but when her eyes meet mine her face softens.

“I love the way you look at me,” she admits quietly, shifting her weight on my hips and I have to bite my tongue to stop a gasp from escaping my lips. “No one’s ever looked at me like you do and I. . . I just love you so much.”

I smile and give her thighs a squeeze to show my appreciation. “I love you, too,” I say, reciprocating the kiss Wanda gives me when she bends down.

I love wholesome moments like this and I kiss back with the intention of keeping things short and sweet, but Wanda seems to have other plans.

She bites my lower lip, slipping her tongue into my mouth and slips her hands beneath my sweater. Her nails scraped against my skin and I groan, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

We’ve kissed and made out before, but this feels different than anything we’ve ever done.

Wanda is kissing me with an unprecedented sense of purpose and urgency and I have to pull back to make sure I’m not reading too much into this.

Despite being together for almost a year now, we’ve never been intimate before. It’s something we’ve spoken about a couple months ago when Wanda stopped a particularly heated make out session, saying she wasn’t ready to cross that line yet. I reassured her and told her I’d wait for her no matter how long it takes and that was that, but now things seem different.

Following our conversation I always stopped things before they could escalate, but now, when I try to pull away, Wanda whines and reattaches her lips to mine in a desperate kiss.

It takes my breath away and we continue kissing for a few seconds before I regain my bearings and place a hand on her shoulder, pushing gently.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Wanda asks breathlessly, her fingers tracing over my ribs beneath my sweater.

I shiver at the feeling and close my eyes for a moment to escape her intense gaze. “Yeah, I-I’m okay. Are you? I mean, is this going where I think it’s going or do you want to stop?”

It’s silent for a second and I open my eyes to find Wanda staring at me with dilated pupils.

“I think I’m ready,” she whispers against my lips, making my heart skip a beat.

“A-Are you sure?” I stutter and instead of answering verbally she resumes our kiss.

It’s hot and open mouthed, and when I squeeze her thighs, a squeaky moan leaves her lips. It sends a spark of arousal through me and I do it again just to hear it again.

“Y/N,” Wanda gasps, sitting up abruptly to take off her shirt before leaning back down to resume the kiss.

My mind is reeling at the sight of her exposed skin and I can’t stop myself from bringing my hands up to her waist.

Her skin is soft and warm and I can’t wait to feel it against my own.

We continue to kiss feverishly until Wanda runs out of air. She disconnects our lips, panting, and I take it as a chance to connect my lips to her neck.

I kiss and suck harshly, not caring about leaving any marks and taking delight in the gasps whimpers it’s eliciting from the redhead.

When I move to the sensitive spot just below Wanda’s ear, she shudders and digs her fingers into my ribs, making me groan.

We’re so caught up in the moment that it takes a second for the sound of breaking glass to register in both our heads. We freeze and pull apart, looking around the room for the source of the sound.

My eyes land on the lamp on the bedside table where wisps of red magic surround the now broken bulb of it.

I chuckle, realizing what’s happened but Wanda remains frozen on top of me. She’s blankly staring at the broken glass and retracts her hands from below my sweater.

“Hey,” I say softly, my voice filling with concern. “Are you okay? It was just an accident. I can replace the bulb in the morning.“

“I—“ Wanda stops herself and stares at her hands in disbelief. “I don’t think I can do this, Y/N.”

I frown and sit up, wrapping my arms around her waist to keep her on my lap. “What are you talking about?”

I hate how quickly the mood has shifted and I hate seeing the familiar look of reproach and regret in Wanda’s eyes.

“I just— I can’t do this,” she elaborates gesturing between us with a shaking hand. “I want to, but I can’t let my guard down. I’ll lose control and I’ll hurt you. My powers—“

I cut her off before she can go on, grabbing her hands and kissing her knuckles. “Hey, no. Don’t do this. We’ve talked about this. You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

Wanda chuckles sadly and shakes her head. “But I don’t trust myself.”

I sigh. Not because I’m disappointed we were interrupted, but because it hurts to know Wanda still thinks of herself like this.

I rack my brain for new ways to convince her she’s not the monster she thinks she is when I suddenly have an idea.

I scoot back until my back is against the headboard and turn Wanda’s hands around so her palms are facing up.

“Darling, look at this,” I say quietly, letting go of one of her hands.

I flex my fingers and focus on my own powers, feeling a familiar warmth rush into my fingertips until wisps of yellow surround my hand.

They slowly dance around and illuminate Wanda’s face as she watches what I’m doing.

I move my hand toward hers and as soon as our fingertips brush it’s as if my powers coax Wanda’s out of hiding.

Soft red tendrils begin to appear at the tips of her fingers and Wanda watches in amazement as they connect with my own powers.

They dance around each other, mixing and merging around our palms until they’re an orange web of liquid energy.

“Do you feel that?” I ask, referring to the warmth that spreads through my hand and up my arm.

Wanda nods, her eyes glued to our hands and the ever flowing stream of energy between us.

“Does it hurt?” I ask, knowing that it doesn’t but wanting Wanda to actually say it, to admit it, and acknowledge that her powers could never harm me.

“I— No,” she whispers, her eyes meeting mine. “It feels good. I— I feel you.”

I nod encouragingly and interlace our fingers, “Exactly. . . Now you know you won’t ever be able to hurt me, but we don’t have to continue. You can put your shirt back on and we can cuddle and watch a movie and forget any of this ever happened.”

Wanda’s eyes drop back down to our hands, her eyebrows furrowed in though for a couple of moments before she whispers, “No.”

“No?” I question gently, not knowing what exactly she means. I disconnect our hands and will my powers to disappear before placing my hands on her thighs.

Wanda’s eyes meet mine and I gasp when I notice a faint red glow in them. “No. I don’t want to stop,” she admits, her voice raspy. “I want you.”

My eyes widen and my fingers twitch in excitement. “Are you sure?”

She nods and whispers a Yes before cupping my cheeks and pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

In the end, a couple more light bulbs explode and the whole room shakes when Wanda comes for the first time with a broken cry, but no one gets hurt.

Well, that is if you don’t count the countless bruises in the form of love bites on our bodies and the angry red scratches down my back.

The third time

“Wanda,” Vision says, “It’s time.”

Wanda turns and stares at the synthezoid with watery eyes. He’s her best friend and beside me he’s the only one who truly understands her.

“No,” she says sternly, turning back around to watch Thanos taking apart the team one by one.

Vision and I share a meaningful look and I nod in acknowledgment.

“They can’t stop him Wanda,” I say, cringing when Steve gets socked in the face. “But you can. You have the power to destroy the stone.”

Vision nods in agreement and takes Wanda’s hand, placing it against his cheek.

She shakes her head with a trembling chin as her eyes fill with tears.

“Wanda please,” Vision says, his kind blue eyes focused on nothing else but the redhead in front of him. “We are out of time.”

“I can’t,” she whispers, looking at me pleadingly even though there’s nothing I can do. I may have gotten my powers from the stone as well, but I’m not as powerful as she is.

Vision takes Wanda’s hand off his cheek and raises it in front of his face. “If he gets the stone half of the universe dies.”

Wanda’s face contorts with agony and she takes a step back, acknowledging that there’s no other way.

I bow my head, trying to hide my own tears at the imminent demise of one of my friends and turn around to make sure Thanos doesn’t get to Wanda or Vision.

“It’s alright,” I hear Vision say, “You could never hurt me.”

I swallow the growing lump in my throat, remembering how I taught him that phrase before everything went to shit because of the Sokovia Accords.

He called me one evening when I was gone on a solo mission, asking how to calm Wanda down after she accidentally lost control of her powers during a training session.

Thanos catches T’Challa mid-air and slams him into the ground before striking Nat with a powerful fist.

He’s getting too close, I think, getting into a fighting stance.

I raise my hands, letting my powers flow through me until my hands are surrounded by yellow wisps.

I can’t let him get to Wanda. . .

I take a deep breath, getting ready to get my ass handed to me like the rest of the team, when the breath suddenly gets knocked out of me by some invisible force.

I gasp and look around to see what might have caused it when a blinding pain shoots up my spine and through my head.

It feels like I’m being split apart from the inside out and I drop to my hands and knees, blinking rapidly to get rid of the growing black spots in my vision.

I whimper and press a hand to my temple, only for the pain to disappear the next second as though it was never there.

“My love,” Wanda’s voice and her hands on my cheeks make me flinch and when I look up I see she’s kneeling in front of me with concern written all over her face. “What is it?”

I shake my head, confused as to what just happened and take her hands off my face. “I don’t know, darling. Just keep going, I’ll be fine. Thanos can’t get his hands on the stone.”

She watches me with uncertainty, only reluctantly getting back to her feet when I shout, “Go!”

We’re running out of time.

I take a shaky breath and stand up on shaking legs before leaning against a nearby tree.

My eyes land on Wanda as she’s getting back into position to destroy the stone.

I want to get back to shielding her from the incoming Titan, but as soon as her power connect with the stone, the pain returns, and I yelp in surprise, doubling over in pain.

Just like last time, it stops almost immediately and it’s then that I realize what’s happening.

The mind stone brought me back to life, so if it’s destroyed, I loss my powers and I go back to being dead.

When I look up I see the same realization in both Vision and Wanda’s face.

Vision just smiles sadly, knowing this won’t change our shared understanding that the stone has to be destroyed, but Wanda’s paralyzed with horror.

“No.” She shakes her head, tears of despair dripping down her face. “Not you, too. I can’t do this.”

She shakes her head like a kid throwing a tantrum and I have to bite my cheek to stifle a whimper when I drag myself to her side.

“Wanda, there’s no other way,” I croak, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

She sobs and holds onto my wrists with an ironclad grip. “No. No. No. I can’t lose you. You’re all I have left. You’re my everything.”

I force a small smile and try to ignore the agony that washes over me.

Whenever one of us is feeling overwhelmed by an emotion, the other person feels it as well. It’s a side effect of the connection the mind stone has created between us and it usually doesn’t bother me, but right now it’s chipping away at my resolve to save half the universe.

“It’s going to be okay,” I lie even though my heart is begging me not to go through with this.

I’m scared of dying, yes, because I don’t remember what it was like the first time, but what I’m even more scared of is what’s going to happen to Wanda once all this is over.

She has lost so much already and I don’t know how much more she can take before she breaks completely.

“Please, no. Don’t make me do this,” Wanda cries softly, making my own tears run down my cheeks.

I struggle to breath and, not being able to bear the look of complete and utter despair in her eyes, I Iet go of her face and move so I’m standing behind her, her back flush against my front.

I press a lingering kiss to the side of her head, right above her ear, and take her hands in mine, raising them so her palms are aimed at the stone in Vision’s forehead.

“We’ll do it together, darling. I’m right here, okay?” I whisper.

Wanda sobs and whimpers, but a moment later her fingers are once again surrounded by her magic.

“Y/N. . .” she weeps, seeming unable to go through with it, but when I press another kiss to the side of her head, she lets her magic go, directing it toward the stone.

The moment it makes contact, I groan and my grip on the back of her hands tightens.

Her engagement ring glints in the sunlight and even though my body is overwhelmed by all the pain coursing through it, I managed to smile as I remember how I slipped it onto her finger a couple of days ago.

Oh, what a beautiful bride she would have made.

There aren’t many things I regret in life, but not asking her to marry me sooner is definitely on of them.

I would have loved to call her my wife. I would have loved to raise kids with her and I would have loved to grow old with her by my side.

Now, all we have left is this moment and I’m sure as hell not going to waste it.

When the pain turns blinding, I grit my teeth and close my eyes, pressing my nose against Wanda’s neck to breathe her in.

Her body is shaking with sobs and the effort it takes to destroy the stone and there’s nothing I can do to help except comfort her in this defining moment.

“I love you.” I gasp, letting go of her hands to instead wrap my arms around her waist.

I keep saying it with my eyes squeezed shut until the pain suddenly stops.

I don’t feel anything for a heartbeat, but then my blood runs cold and I feel my knees buckle.

My grip around Wanda loosens involuntarily and my body hits the ground hard.

The last thing I’m aware of before slipping into darkness is a pair of warm hands on my face.

________________________________________________

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. . . *insert evil laugh*

Not proofread yet.