#but every time he thinks she's rolling her eyes at him

[rafecameronssl4t]

Can I please get smth with rafe x thorton!reader where shes confronted by topper’s ex girlfriend or something bc she got cheated on

Ruined Heels || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader

A/n: kinda sorta dislike this but thank you for the request!!

Warnings: vomiting? swearing idk what else lmk

Word count: 952

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board “You ain't never had the feds investigate you. You ain't never had the bad hoes wanna date you.”

Your heeled foot taps rhythmically on the polished wooden floor, perfectly in sync with the pounding beat of the music that fills the house, the bass reverberating through every room.

“And then she started a hissy fit like she always does,” Sarah says, rolling her eyes dramatically as she recounts Kiara’s latest outburst. Her voice carries a mix of exasperation and amusement, a combination that makes you snort with laughter. You tilt your head back, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat before setting the empty glass on the table beside you.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cuts through the chatter and music, drawing your attention. He strides over with a confident smirk, “Wanna go upstairs?” He asks, his fingers drumming lightly on your crossed knee, sending a shiver up your spine as you look up at him.

“Gross,” Sarah mutters under her breath, clearly unimpressed with Rafe’s suggestion. You glance at her, “Will you be okay?” you ask, concern lacing your voice as you prepare to stand. Rafe reaches out to help you, his hands gentle yet firm as they grasp your waist, pulling you to your feet. His fingers brush against your dress, tugging it back into place as it rides up slightly.

“Yeah, I think I saw Kaycee in the kitchen,” Sarah replies with a sigh, her expression softening as she gets up from the sofa. She gives you a reassuring nod, her eyes briefly meeting yours before she turns towards the kitchen.

You nod back as Rafe leads you away. His hand remains on the small of your back, as you both weave through the crowd to get to the stairs. Just as you’re about to step onto the first stair, a blonde girl suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back with unexpected force.

“Excuse me?” you say, furrowing your brow at the girl, your confusion evident. Rafe pulls you protectively against him, his grip tightening as his anger flares. “What the hell is your problem?” he demands, his voice sharp and furious.

The girl stands before you, her appearance a stark contrast to her fury. Tears stream down her face, her hair a tangled mess, and her lipstick smeared across her chin. Her hands tremble as she points a finger accusingly at you. “Your brother is the biggest fucking douche I’ve ever met!” she shouts, her voice cracking with emotion.

You and Rafe exchange incredulous glances, both stunned by her outburst. The disbelief in your eyes mirrors Rafe’s as you struggle to process the situation. “I’m sorry, who exactly are you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. She scoffs, “Caroline, your brother’s girlfriend! Or ex-girlfriend now, since he just dumped me for someone else!” she yells furiously.

You never supported your brother’s behavior of sleeping around and breaking up with girls left and right, but practically everyone on the island knew what kind of person he was. Topper was notorious for his inability to maintain a relationship for any length of time.

“What’s that got to do with me?” you ask, shrugging nonchalantly as her eye twitches in frustration. Rafe stands behind you, his hand resting on your hip, watching the scene unfold with amusement. “He’s—” Caroline begins, her voice rising in anger, but you cut her off sharply, “You knew what kind of guy my brother was, so why did you even bother?”

Caroline stands there in silence, her eyes darting around as the partygoers watch. She takes a hesitant step forward, and you raise an eyebrow, curious about her next move. Suddenly, her face contorts with a pained expression. She brings the back of her hand to her mouth, but it’s too late. She bends over, vomiting on the floor, causing a collective gasp from the crowd.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, stepping back quickly to avoid the spreading mess. Rafe, standing behind you, looks like he’s about to gag, his hand covering his mouth. You instinctively reach out and pat Caroline’s back, offering what little comfort you can as she remains hunched over.

“What’s going on here?” Topper’s voice booms as he pushes through the crowd. He reaches you, his eyes scanning the scene before landing on Caroline. He sighs loudly, fingers pressing into his temples as if to ward off a headache. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

Caroline slowly lifts her head, her eyes meeting Topper’s with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Without warning, she swats your hand away, straightens up, and runs off, disappearing into the crowd of partygoers. The crowd parts for her, whispering amongst themselves, while you and Rafe exchange a bewildered glance.

Topper stands there, rubbing his forehead, clearly frustrated. “Great, just great,” he mumbles. “Did you really have to break it off tonight?” You mutter, giving your brother an annoyed look as he rolls his eyes “Oh, I’m sorry, Princess. Did she ruin your shoes or something?” Topper lifts his hands up in mock surrender, his tone sarcastic. “Get fucked, Topper,” You scoff, “let’s go,” You pull Rafe with you.

"Good to see you, Top," Rafe pats his shoulder, a smile gracing his lips before he lets you walk him upstairs (walk him like a dog sis).

[glitterjay]

hi! do you write threesomes? can you write about y/n with hee and won?

⭒ threesome, exhibitionism(?, dom!heeseung, virgin!jungwon, switch!reader, pet names, smut under cut minors dni

⭒ c's note: i do write threesomes but i cant promise im good at them, hehe. im also doing my permanent taglist all over again, so if you'd like to be in it shoot me an ask or leave a comment :] also, this is all over the place so im sorry if it sucks

⭒ taglist (open): @hollyoongs

having one of your boyfriend's dearest friends watching as you got your pussy eaten out was definitely something new.

heeseung had been talking about how one of his friends, jungwon, had been getting more and more curious about the active sex lives of those in his friend circle, and to his luck, heeseung was one of his closest friends.

he had been talking with you about inviting him over some day to watch you guys do your thing, and you agreed because why not? but you didn't think it would be such a turn on like this.

you could see him through your peripheral vision as he tried to look everywhere but the bed in front of him. how his hands tried to frantically cover the very noticeable bulge under his sweats, and how he threw his head back every time you moaned heeseung's name into the air.

your boyfriend had been talking about inviting jungwon over to see the both of you do the deed. something about jungwon starting to look for hookups thanks to the influence of other friends (jake). and since heeseung was the closest one to him, why not teach him a few lessons?

your body jolted and shook as you started nearing your first high. your right hand landed perfectly on heeseung's hair to pull it, as your body arched hard and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. gasps were leaving your mouth as you came in your boyfriend's face, thanking the heavens for giving you a man with a skilled tongue like his.

"and that, won, is how you eat a girl out." he said, cleaning his chin with the back of his hand as he smacked your sensitive bud with the other, the gesture made your body shake again, a loud moan echoing the room.

the boy that was painfully sitting in a chair next to yours and heeseung's bed seemed to have his hand deep inside his sweatpants, probably trying to release some of the tension his poor cock was feeling.

"now, darling, why don't you help our special guest? hmm?"

you could see the way jungwon's face reddened even more, but his hand didnt seem to leave his dick at all. you nodded and with heeseung's help, you made it over to where the other boy was sitting. you knelt between his open legs, and asked if it was okay to touch him. the cat like boy in front of you looked over at your boyfriend for approval, who nodded in response, and mocked the same gesture.

you grabbed the hem of his sweats and boxers together, and pulled them down as fast as you could. the sudden cold air of the room made jungwon moan as it hit his sensitive member. it seemed like he was suffering a lot from the amount of precum leaking from his tip, and how hard and red it looked.

"she will help you, jungwon. trust me, her head is just as good as mine is."

you took that as your queue to go. your hand wrapped around jungwon's rock hard cock and started moving up and down. his eyes rolled to the back of his face as he threw it back in the chair, staring at the ceiling with teary eyes. it was definitely a different sensation than his own hand, and it was filling his head with clouds.

you spat on his tip, your saliva mixing with his precum before taking him in with your mouth. the sensation felt so ridiculously delicious to him that you had felt his cock twitch already. heeseung was seeing everything from the bed, his own clothes now gone and his cock in hand.

he got up from where he was sitting, pushing your head further into jungwon's dick. this made the other's body shake in response, his head shot up, wide eyes looking down at heeseung's hand on the top of your head, keeping you in place. "breathe through your nose, darling. take it in like a good girl."

the scene seemed to be taken out of the porn videos jungwon had watched on his own, and fuck was it hot. it was enough for him to cum in your mouth. heeseung was able to tell his friend was done by the change in pitch of his voice, letting go of your head to let you breathe. your own head shot up, mixtures of saliva and cum running from the corners of it as you gasped for air.

"i will let you stuff her whole, won. but no funny business. either you cum outside or you dont get to cum at all, understood?"

-

and thats how your body was being used by your boyfriend and one of his closest friends. jungwon was taking instructions from a very calm heeseung who had his cock fucking your face. your head was running to the verge of insanity. the third party was definitely hitting the right spots for it to be his first time. but yet again, he was being led by heeseung. there was no one that knew your body better than him.

"taking two cocks at a time, nobody's having it like you are, baby" heeseung cooed, ramming his hips harder and faster, the way he moved your entire body with his force was enough to have you fucking back into jungwon, who was having the time of his life. you hummed when you felt your boyfriend's dick twitch, the vibrations helping him cum.

the taste was sweeter than jungwon's, probably because you were used to it already. heeseung pulled out, quickly kissing your forehead. it was a pleasant view seeing his friend taking your pussy from behind, but he knew nobody could make you feel the way he did, so there wasnt much to worry.

"fuck jungwon... try to hit that same spot again." you said, your hand intertwined with heeseung's for moral support. the way his own name rolled of your sweet tongue made jungwon twitch yet again. he was fast to find that spot that had you seeing starts and cussing out loud, body coming to it's second orgasm of the day.

your walls felt empty when jungwon pulled his dick out, ropes of white cum landing on the bedsheets. he didnt want heeseung coming for him, although he would've loved to cum inside.

you were exhausted to say the least, and heeseung was more than welcome to take care of you for doing such a good job. not without praising jungwon as well, telling him he was ready to go make girls cum on his own. but if he felt like needed more practice, the both of you were available any time. and to be honest, you hoped he came back again.

© glitterjay | tumblr

[https-kreideprinz]

She fell in love with the medicine she's on !

Clarisse la Rue x Fem! Reader

A/N: Clarisse la Rue × female child of Dionysus, fluff (can be platonic or romantic JUST GIVE ME FLUFF)

Notes: sis is STARVING. dont worry bbg. I gotchu

CW: Dionysus makes a small comment about sexual intercourse nearing the end. Reader discretion is advised.

ׂׂૢ Clarisse la Rue

You giggled, whispering softly as Clarisse tugged you closer. An arm around your waist drawing small circles into your skin. She looked up at the stars and rested her head back against Thalia's pine tree. It wasn't everyday you could spend some quality time with your girlfriend. Meeting up alone was hard enough.

Dionysus wasn’t a difficult god to hide from.

It was the fact that he was your father that made him a hard person to avoid.

The constant scampering around behind his back. Trying to not get caught cuddling with your beautiful girlfriend was hard when your father was God who not only was unfortunately, the one stuck in camp ‘babysitting everyone’ like how he worded it, he was also quite overprotective over his daughter.

A snap of a branch caught the couple's attention and the two of you quickly fell silent. Holding your breaths as you freeze in place. "What in the- What the fuck." Your father's voice rings out and you make a silent prayer to Zeus'. Hoping to be struck down by lightning or turned into some sort of plant or something else. Anything to avoid looking into your father's disappointed and angry eyes. "Dad..." You let out a small sigh. "I didn't want you to find out that I'm-"

"Dating a daughter of Ares!"

"Gay- I- what??"

Dionysus stared blankly at you, and you simply stared back, confused. "You don't care if I'm gay?" You mumbled and your father frowned. "Oi. Katie." "Clarisse." Your girlfriend butted in, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead, ignoring the inevitable migraine from forming. "I don't have time for this. Go back to your cabin and if you're lucky, the harpies won't peck your eyes out." Your father almost growled, glaring daggers at your girlfriend.

Clarisse opened her mouth, sharp to retort but fell silent when you reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be ok” You smiled softly, and she nodded.

Clarisse sighed, looking over at you sadly before getting up, dusting herself off and heading back to camp. Once Dionysus was sure she was out of earshot he turned to you.

You opened your mouth to start defending yourself, but your father lifted his hand to stop you before you could even sneak a single word in. "I don't care if you're gay." He said plainly and you snapped your mouth shut. "What?" You reel back, confused and he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm related to Apollo. You think I care if you like girls? That guy brings a new guy or girl back to Olympus every week- I mean the number of plants he’s made- he puts Persephone to shame. Don’t tell Demeter I said that. She is still freakishly overprotective over her." He grumbled.

Dionysus crossed his arms. "Wait then what's the problem?" You frowned, confused. "The problem is- out of everyone. Every single camper here. From all the major and now minor kids of the Greek Gods- out of all of them-” You cut him off with a groan. “Dad- get to the point!” You grumble. “I was getting there!” He huffed. “Out of everyone. You pick a daughter of Ares?? I mean- what about... Oh I dunno- one of Athena's kids?"

He shook his head, pacing back and forth, dry grass crunching under his feet with every step. "I thought I raised you better than this." He tuts and you raise an eyebrow, holding your tongue so as to not anger him by stating that, he in fact, did not raise you at all.

"Dad, I love her." You sighed and Dionysus slowed his walk to a stop, looking over at you, confusion written all over his face before it morphed into an expression you couldn’t really make out. "Like... really really love her?" He whispered, thinking of his own wife. How he wished to see Ariadne again... His beautiful wife… "Like my life is incomplete without her." You whispered back and he sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Right... well... I can't stop you from dating her... and you love her too so..." He sighed, sitting down beside you. "But Chiron is giving you 'the talk' later today, ok?"

"Wha- Dad!" You groan. "Should've thought twice before getting into a relationship. Now you gotta learn about all the gritty stuff." He shrugged. "What were you two doing out here anyways? Making out?" He looked annoyed at the thought of your lips touching someone else’s and you sighed. "No dad. We were stargazing." You rest your head on your palm. "Oh... right well... no more late night running around, ok? I do enjoy having a good night sleep since I have to babysit all of the god’s mistakes..." He sighed. "And I can't be chasing you around to pull you into bed every night."

You huff, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous."

Dionysus scoffed. "No. I'm your dad."

Taglist: @thementallyunwellapollochild, @apollos-coolest-child, @too-queer-for-school, @chaotic-child-of-apollo, @vintage-wanderers

[clandestinedmeetings]

May I request a hurt/comfort fic with smut? Where reader is insecure of herself due to some hateful comments or rude 'friends' and Leon swoops in and treats her like the princess she is!

AHHHH this was funnnnnnnnnnn. Had to throw in a lil friends to lovers, too, because I am... such a sucker for it.

Lmk if you want me to change anything, and need more hurt! I'm happy to edit to make it closer to what you envisioned :) <3

Constructive criticism is /always/ appreciated, too! If there's something you think could be better, please don't hesitate to let me know! I'm always looking for way to improve my writing~

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Leon Kennedy x f!reader

Synopsis: Reader returns home one evening feeling distraught over recent events. Leon lends a listening ear (and then some).

Tags: 18+ (smut), MDNI, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, roommate!Leon, AFAB reader, cunnilingus, p in v, alcohol consumption

WC: 5,044

A/N: Take a shot (of water, if you're under the legal drinking age) every time I use celestial imagery in my writing. I need new similes/metaphors, goddammit.

Read on Ao3!

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Leon’s never been good with words. 

He’d actually go so far as to say that he’s bad with them—abysmal, even. The most he can usually muster in tense situations is a terse, “Okay,” and an awkward shuffle of his feet. His jokes suck, too, which leaves him with only the talent to dig himself into deeper holes, blush furiously, and pray that people find him charming enough to overlook his utter lack of social skills. 

This tactic had only really worked in his favor once. 

This tactic had only really worked on you. 

He’d met you four years ago at Claire’s 21st birthday party. She’d held it at a bar not too far from home, invited all of her friends, and conveniently omitted that he’d be the only guy in attendance. When he pulled her aside, when he’d hissed and complained and anger had gripped at his chest, she’d pouted. And that was enough to assuage his frustration. 

“They’re great girls, Leon, one of them ought to catch your eye.” 

Leon had rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker, Claire.” 

“Because you’ve had so many successful dates recently,” she’d said sardonically with her hand on her hip. 

No arguing there; his love life had been about as bleak as his platonic social life as of late. The girls he met were either off-put by his awkward demeanor or willing to overlook it, but only in it for sex. The latter wasn’t too bad, he figured, but not what he was looking for, either. In fact, Leon wasn’t sure he even wanted a relationship. He just wanted someone with whom he could laugh. It’d been a while since he’d laughed.

“Claire,” he sighed, “I’m not—“

“—looking for that, yeah. Whatever, Leon. Talk to them. Maybe you’ll find a roommate, then. Solve another one of your many problems.” 

Not a terrible point, but not a good one either. Claire didn’t want to hear that, though. Especially on her birthday.

His roommate moved out a few weeks ago. The first of the month was coming soon. He could afford to pay for one month in full but he’d need a new roommate soon. He’d sulked over to the bar in resignation, ordered a bourbon (neat) and sipped on it while watching from afar. He checked his watch — 30 more minutes, and he could go home. He hadn’t gotten any hits on his ad  yet. Maybe his it needed updating. Maybe he should rewrite it. 

“We can’t both leave at the same time, you know.” 

Leon turned to his left to see you perched on a barstool, espresso martini in hand. You looked positively bored, your face drained of all color, though he couldn’t deny that the fluorescent neon lights overhead suited you. Cute, he thought, pretty.Very pretty. 

Maybe the ad could wait. 

“What makes you think I’m trying to leave?” 

You’d given him a pointed look before taking a sip of your drink. He’d chuckled, “Okay, who do you suggest leave first then?”

“Me, obviously.” 

He’d taken the seat next to yours, one hand in his jacket pocket. “That desperate to get out?” 

“Kinda,” you muttered with a smile. “And I’ve been here longer than you have so it’d be unfair if you got to leave first.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” you’d echoed. 

End of conversation, clearly, but you hadn’t moved. You’d stayed put. You’d angled your legs toward him; he’d mirrored the action. You refrained from ordering a second drink, he did as well. And he was surprised at how comfortable it was, sitting with you like this. Quiet, brushing knees every so often. 

“You have any jokes, stranger?” you’d asked. 

His lips had curled into a smile. “Aside from the fact that Claire only invited me to hook her up with one of her single friends and didn’t tell me until I showed up? Yeah, I got plenty.” 

“Oh, so you’re Leon,” you’d laughed. “She told me about you.” 

Leon flushed a horrific shade of crimson. “Christ,” he muttered, “That’s… humiliating.” 

“It isn’t,” you placated with a mirthful smile, “I promise. She only had nice things to say.” 

“A pleasure to have in class, I’m sure,” Leon quips. He unstuck his feet from the bar floor with a frown. He nearly gagged at the sound it made. 

You’d giggled at that. “Something like that.” 

“What’s your verdict? Was she truthful or was she Claire about it?” he’d asked. 

You’d mulled over this question with a down-turned smile. He liked the way you smiled. He liked the way your eyes gleamed underneath the blue light bathing the bar. “Very truthful, unfortunately,” you admitted without making eye contact. 

Leon stifled a smile of his own and chose to focus on keeping his feet from staying on one place for too long lest they get glued to the filthy floor once more. He’d looked up at you, and had been surprised to find you already eyeing him. 

“Why unfortunately?” 

“Because I’m not looking for anything serious. Or at all, really.” 

That had been unfortunate. You’d divulged that you’d recently gotten out of a tumultuous long-term relationship, and that you were in search for a new place to live. The apartment you two had shared was under his name so you were crashing at Claire’s until something became available. 

“I’m looking for a roommate,” he’d blurted out before he could even consider the implications. You’d furrowed your brows, taken aback by his brazenness, but your surprise quickly melted into acceptance. 

You swallowed a sip of your drink and asked, “Are you a clean person?” 

“Obsessively so.” 

“And you’re not the ‘I can fix her’ type?” 

Leon had laughed at that. “Not much of a handyman, really.” 

“Serial killer? Sexual deviant?”

“No, and I guess that depends on what you consider deviant.” 

The rightmost corner of your mouth curled into a lopsided smile. You drained the remnants of your drink, placed the martini glass on the granite bar top, and asked, “When can I move in?”

When you both reflect on this meeting now, you laugh at the eagerness with which you’d accepted his proposal. You chastise yourself for jumping the gun, for taking his answers at face value because yeah, choosing to move in with a total stranger was foolish. But in the four years since, you’d never come to regret your decision to move in with Leon.

He was terribly respectful of your space, even early on when you’d spend most of your nights crying and lamenting on your past relationship. He’d made popcorn and sat on the couch sharing a bottle of wine with you when you needed support. When you told him you’d expected a proposal on the night your boyfriend had broken up with you, he’d balked. 

Leon opened up to you quickly, too. It wasn’t long before he told you all about his parents’ deaths and unstable upbringing. You told him about your turbulent relationship with your family. You’d commiserated over feelings of worthlessness, abandonment, and isolation. And when the ice cream ran low, you’d both hop in your car and argue in whispered shouts over which flavor to get at the grocery store.

Leon was, for all intents and purposes, your best friend. And you were his. 

In you, he’d found a confidant. In you, he’d found someone who listened and cared and never failed to make him feel seen. In you, he’d found someone who could make him laugh. God, it felt so fucking good to laugh this consistently. It’s therefore safe to say that he’s smitten — that he’s been smitten since he first met you at Claire’s birthday—but he’d never act on it, not unless he was certain you felt same, even if it kills him.

And it does kill him. 

It kills him to see you date other guys. It kills him to see you go through breakups. Most of all, it kills him to see your light dim whenever you’re made to doubt yourself. To Leon, you’re radiant. You’re brilliant and bright, a sparkling star in an otherwise blackened night. You gleam when you smile, you twinkle when you laugh. You hung the moon, as far as he’s concerned. He doesn’t understand how you could think any differently. 

But you do. Not frequently, but life gets to you sometimes. 

Tonight is one of those times.

It’s Friday. Leon is laying down with his foot propped on the back of your shared velvet couch, nursing a glass of whiskey and reading the last few chapters of his book when he hears you barge through the door. It closes with a slam. He sits up abruptly, nearly spilling the amber liquid all over his white t-shirt, as you pad down the hall. 

“Hey,” you huff, plopping down beside him and snatching the glass out of his hand. You down its contents without pretense, gagging as it burns your throat. Leon’s brows knit together in concern as he takes the glass from your hands. He gently lowers it onto the glass coffee table. You hand him a coaster without looking at him. He stifles a chuckle, and slides it under the glass. Your nose is rubbed raw, he realizes. Your eyes are bloodshot. You’d been crying for a while. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me,” you whisper.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he mumbles, rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

“No, there has to be something wrong with me, Leon,” you insist, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes. Static dances behind your lids. You wish it would swallow you whole, wish yourself to be consumed by numbness rather than whatever this fucking feeling is. “This is the fourth fucking time,” you sob, “the fourth fucking time this month I’ve all but been told I’m worthless.” 

“What’re you talking about?”

You take a shuddering sigh before slouching into the couch cushions, palms still pressed to your lids. “My coworkers spoke over every fucking idea I had at our sprint this morning. Then my mom brought up my ex again, and said he would’ve proposed if I’d been more agreeable — can you believe that?” 

Your ex-boyfriend. The one you’d expected to propose. Still a sore spot, but not for the reasons one would expect — you aren’t in love with him anymore, you don’t spare him a second thought most months. You hate his guts; Leon hates him, too. The fact that your mother was still bringing him up years after the fact is cruel, though expected at this point. Doesn’t make it any less hurtful, though, Leon knows that. 

“I can, unfortunately,” he commiserates, slumping down beside you. “Your mom’s a bitch.”

“God, she really fucking is,” you groan loudly. “And to make matters worse,” you continue, flipping onto your side to better face him, “remember that guy I went out with two nights ago?” 

Leon crinkles his nose, “V-Neck?” 

“Yeah, he told me I was a ‘waste of time’ and ‘boring’ because I didn’t like Fight Club.”

“Let me guess, Tyler Durden—“

“—is his favorite character,” you finish with an exasperated cry. Leon can’t help but laugh at that. The guy was a tool; Leon clocked it as soon as he showed up in jeans and a v-neck to pick you up for your date. 

You start to cry again. “God, Leon, I’m so sick of this shit. I’m so sick of feeling like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m fundamentally broken. Like everyone would like me better if I weren’t me. Because when I was with my ex, I was… nothing. I was nothing. I laughed when I didn’t think he was funny. I pretended to like football, I pretended to like the gold fucking jewelry he gave me even though I never wear anything but platinum! It felt like I was giving away parts of myself every time I lied just to appease him.” 

You pause to catch your breath.. “And I get spoken over all the time at work. I’m exhausted. I feel like it’s wrong for me to take up space and I feel like all of my opinions are wrong and God, I just wish I weren’t me anymore.” You’re practically shouting now, rivulets of tears streaming down your face and soaking your plush sweater. 

“God,” you whisper. You cover your eyes with your forearms. Leon doesn’t quite know what to say, so he remains quiet. The room is filled with the sound of your sobs. 

He inhales through his nose then mutters, “I think you’re perfect.” 

“What?” you croak. 

“Nothing,” he sighs. He didn’t realize he’d said that aloud. 

You wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “No,” you say, “What did you say?” 

Leon sucks on his teeth before answering. He wrings his hands before repeating, “I think you’re perfect.” 

“No you don’t,” you scoff.

“I do, actually. And I think you deserve way more than these asshole guys you choose to date can give you. And I think your mom’s a bitch who needs to forget about your ex because that guy was a fucking asshole who took you for granted, too. And your coworkers hardly have a braincell to share between them, so I wouldn’t take what they say to heart in the slightest.” 

You’re stunned by his outburst, by the reddening of his cheeks and clenched jaw. “Leon—“ 

“I’m not finished,” he huffs, sitting up and turning to face you. “I’m… Look, I’m sorry, but I’m so sick of hearing about people treating you like shit. I’m so sick of you coming home in tears and I’m so sick of listening to your insecurities.” 

“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a goddamn burden to you, Leon—“

“No—shit—that’s not what I meant,” he clarifies, taking your hands in his. “I don’t mean that I hate listening to you or talking you through it. I mean that…” 

“You mean that what?” 

“I mean that I just…. wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he whispers.

You swallow thickly before asking, “How do you see me, Leon?” 

Leon looks up to the ceiling now, a mirthless smile on his face. He thought about how it would feel to confess his feelings to you, but never about how he would actually do it. He’d resolved to take them to his grave, actually. You meant too much to him; he couldn’t lose you. But Leon has said so much already, and there’s really no going back at this point, is there? 

“Like you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever fucking met, sweetheart, and I don’t just mean that in a platonic sense.” 

A breath catches in your throat. Your stomach drops, your lungs feel like they’re collapsing in your chest. Leon licks his lips before continuing, “You’re… so fucking brilliant, you know that? You’re intelligent and kind and thoughtful and god, you’re so fucking pretty it makes it hard for me to breathe sometimes.” 

Tears well in your eyes again. A sob threatens to rack your chest but you suppress it only to hear him continue. 

“And to make matters worse, you’re a terrific fucking listener. You care and love more deeply than anyone. You make everyone feel seen. You just… “ he stops only to consider his next few words. With an exhale and a watery smile, he finishes: “You deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on, and doesn’t let a day go by without reminding you how loved you are.” 

He runs his fingers through his hair, breathless and nauseous and uncertain if the pain in his chest is a burgeoning heart attack or deep-seated panic bubbling to the surface. Leon wonders if you’d judge him for throwing up right now. It would certainly ruin his chances with you permanently, not that he had one to begin with. 

But then he feels your hand cradle his cheek. And he feels you turn his face toward yours. And he feels your lips — soft, plush, tasting vaguely of the cherry chapstick you’d let him borrow whenever he needed it — on his. 

Leon freezes, unsure how to respond. Does he kiss you back? Are you drunk and that’s why you’re kissing him? You’re clearly vulnerable — maybe it’s that. 

You press your forehead to his after pulling away. “S-sorry,” you stammer, “I just— I’m— that was—“ 

“N-no, it’s okay—“

“I’m so—“ you interrupt yourself by kissing him again. Leon reciprocates this time, though he does so with some hesitation. His hand cups the back of your head; you take it as a sign to lean further into him, to take handfuls of his shirt and pull you to him. When you break away, the sky parts and you’re awash with a sense of clarity. 

“Leon,” you sigh, “Leon, do you really mean all of that?” 

“Every fucking word,” he breathes. 

“You’re not just saying that because you’ve been drinking whiskey and you think I’m sad and vulnerable and want to take advantage of me?” 

He barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not and that glass that you finished was actually my first.” 

“And by saying all of this, are you saying you’re willing to be that person?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he chuckles, holding the hand tangled in his t-shirt. You release your grip with a chuckle of your own before looking away bashfully. He gently strokes his thumb over the back of your hand. 

You look down at your feet; he looks down at your feet, too. “So,” you say after a while, “you think you can fuck better than they can, too?” 

Leon tosses his head back and laughs heartily. You can’t help but laugh, too, loving the timbre of his joy. He stands, and offers you a hand. You take it with a giggle, standing to your full height to meet him. With a wolfish grin, Leon throws you over his shoulder. You shriek with delight at the suddenness of the gesture, but don’t fight as he carries you to your bedroom and drops you onto your plush queen-sized bed. 

He’s on you within seconds, dazzling white smile plastered on his golden skin as he kisses you. You smile as you kiss him, too. There’s something tender about the way Leon kisses you, like you’ll break under his touch. It’s different, you think, brand new. Gentle. Sweet. Caring. Even as his hands snake up your sweater to settle along your waist. 

You gasp as his calloused fingers rub loose circles along your ribcage. He trails kisses along your jaw and down the column of you throat, pausing only to suck at your pulse point and collarbone. You grab fistfuls of his shirt and move to tug it over his head. His belt is next. Then your sweater.  And before long, you’re pressed flushed against him and savoring the warmth of his skin. 

“God, you really are so fucking beautiful,” he whispers in your ears, voice low and gravelly with lust. You arch into him again, begging that he resume his kisses along your neck. He obliges —of course he obliges— and when he reaches your breasts, he looks up at you through thick lashes. 

It takes you a second to realize that he’s waiting for your consent to continue. Tears well in your eyes once more, both at the revelation that no one had ever been considerate enough to pause and ask for something as simple as this and that he did so without prompting. You give him an enthusiastic nod. He smiles and presses a genial kiss on your breastbone in thanks before taking a pert nipple into his mouth. 

You mewl at the sensation of his tongue lapping loving circles around your nipples, at the feel of his hand cupping your other breast and rolling its peak between his index and thumbs. His name slips from your mouth; he moans in response. 

“Shit, baby, say my name again,” he rasps. 

“Leon,” you keen as he sucks at your breast. He groans again, shutting his eyes as he savors the cadence with which you mutter his name. 

He’s desperate to hear it again, to hear it screamed in ecstasy, to hear it whispered lowly in his ear. Anything. He just needs you. 

He trails kisses down your torso. You move sinuously beneath him, eagerly anticipating the featherlight kisses he places on your hip bones. On your inner thighs. On your dripping cunt. You spread your legs for him; an invitation of the sweetest kind. You knot your fingers in his hair as he begins his ministrations, his tongue lapping at your pussy from entrance to apex. He lingers along your clit, drawing lazy concentric circles around it until you’re brimming with desire. 

“Please, Leon,” you beg, “more.” 

His chuckle is low and dark. It reverberates through your core, heating and cooling the coil tightening painfully within your lower abdomen. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, sweetheart. Let me take my time.” 

You arch into him, eyes wide with disbelief. “A l-long time?” 

Leon gives you an affirmative hum. You whimper as his fingertips dig into your thighs, as he drags you closer to his mouth with calloused hands. “A long fucking time,” he emphasizes before burying his face into your cunt. 

You moan at the feel of his lips, his nose, his tongue licking and sucking and savoring the ichor between your legs. He alternates between the flat and tip of his tongue. He nips at your clit. He gently prods your core with his tongue before slipping inside and coaxing forth a shattering, breathtaking orgasm. 

He holds you tightly in place, devouring you so wholly through and past your climax. It’s overwhelming, asphyxiating, beautiful and damned and in your fractured consciousness, you wonder why you didn’t succumb to these desires sooner. 

It’d be dishonest to deny your initial and longstanding attraction to Leon Kennedy. You’d withheld your curiosity as a matter of self-preservation — you can’t lose another friend to sex, you can’t lose another living arrangement. But that didn’t stop you from fantasizing about it at night. And in the morning. And whenever he’d walk around your shared apartment shirtless or in his gray sweatpants or when he held you when you cried. 

Stupid, you think now, stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Your own hands don’t even come close to comparing to the feel of him. At this point, you’re certain there’s no going back, either. You need more. You need more now or you’ll go insane. 

“Leon, please.” 

He rises to his knees, pink tongue swiping across his plush lips to consume as much of you as possible. His hands, so large and strong, rub the tops of your thighs. “Please what?” 

“Fuck me. Now.” 

He clenches his jaw in frustration. He so desperately wants to keep you like this, wants to take his time, wants to bring you to orgasm with his tongue and fingers at least thrice more before he allows himself to fuck you properly, but he can’t. He knows he can’t, not when you look like this: skin feverish, pupils blown wide, fingers knotted tightly in bedsheets as a means to keep yourself tethered. 

“Condom?”

“Top drawer,” you choke out, gesturing to the nightstand to your left. 

He scrambles to extract one from the back most corner of the drawer, and tears into the aluminum packaging with his teeth. You sit up, hands greedily tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs, and take his hardened cock in your hands. 

A delicious, gravelly moan slips through his lips as you stroke him from base to tip. Your ministrations are slow, painstaking, and Leon’s finding it harder and harder to keep his resolve. His hand reaches for your throat. It startles you at first, but your eyes roll back as he tightens his grip ever so slightly. 

“How do you want it?” He asks

Your response comes out airy, breathless, needy: “I don’t fucking care.” 

“On your back then.” 

And you oblige, but not before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of you. He smells of cloves and ginger, all warmth and spice, and it’s so intoxicating you wrap your legs around his torso to pull him closer, closer, closer.

He litters your neck with wet kisses, leaving light bruises in his wake. You’d mind if you didn’t have all weekend to help them heal. You’d mind if this weren’t the first time in a while that you’ve felt yourself grow so slick with need that you’re surely dampening the plush covers adorning your bed. You’d mind if they weren’t coming from him. 

From his eager mouth.

From his generous tongue. 

From his fevered kisses. 

You angle your neck to grant him further access; he accepts it with genuine appreciation. 

You whine as his kisses slow, as he takes his time peppering the column of your neck, your décolletage, your breasts. And you’re so preoccupied with the way he sets your skin ablaze that the feel of his cock penetrating your core takes you by sweet surprise. 

He smiles into his next series of kisses, grows harder as you arch into him and dig your fingernails into his back. He allows you to adjust to his size before moving.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he rasps in your ear. It sends ripples of want through your system. “So fucking tight, sweetheart.” 

“Leon,” you whine again, gyrating in desperation for release. 

Stars flit across your vision as he adopts a rhythmic pace. He’s slow at first, soft as you acclimate, but as soon as your teeth sink into the flushed skin of his shoulder and he recognizes the hunger in your eyes, he smirks. 

“I won’t hold back, you know,” he teases.

“I don’t want you to.” 

“Better fucking hold on then.” 

You open your mouth, snarky retort on the tip of your tongue, but a lascivious moan takes its places as Leon’s hips slam into yours. His pace is bruising, rapid, and deep. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, triggering white spots to bleed into your vision. You close your eyes, you toss your head back into the pillow, you claw at him for purchase. When you exalt his name, it comes out stuttered, choked, garbled behind a stream of curses and erotic sighs. 

He presses his forehead to yours. Your lips manage to find his even through your euphoric fog. It’s difficult to maintain with the way he fucks you, so he cradles your cheek with one hand to keep you steady. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he mumbles into your lips, “so fucking beautiful.” 

You bite his lip; he slips his tongue into your mouth. You taste his whiskey again, bitter and smokey, and moan as the tip of his cock pressurizes your g-spot. You’re close to coming undone, close to bathing in rapture, and you can’t help but feel disappointed for succumbing so soon —you wish you could stay like this forever. 

Thought that disappointment quickly dissipates as your orgasm snaps. You’re engulfed in waves of pleasure so sinful, so profoundly exhilarating. You cum with his name on your lips, and in ecstasy, it evolves into something deeper. An exaltation. A sacred prayer. An incantation summoning forth years of denied attraction. A testament to his patience. 

You come undone before him, vulnerable and raw, and he kisses you again because he’s so grateful that you’ve allowed him to see you like this. Keeping his eyes open as he approaches his own climax is challenging, but ultimately worthwhile because he swears he’s never seen anything—anyone—so beautifully and perfectly crafted for him in his life. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m—“

“Cum for me, Leon. Cum inside me.” 

And now it’s your name that’s ripped from his throat, your name interlaced with prayers and enveloped in the sanctity of his climax. You wrap your legs more tightly around his torso, bringing him closer still. His head drops, forehead meeting yours, as he comes to. 

It takes you both a minute or so to catch your breaths. You pant into each other, remain tangled in your sheets as you bask in the aftermath. 

You expect shame to blossom in your chest. You expect regret, too, but neither come. Instead, you’re filled with a sense of belonging that is only further reinforced when you look into his irises. You dive headfirst into crystalline pools, so warm and inviting, and recognize that it should always feel like this. 

“You okay?” He asks between breaths. 

“Extraordinary,” you pant, “you?” 

“Never been better.”

He presses his forehead to yours, a delightful chuckle racking his chest. It’s hard not to laugh, too, hard not to pull him into a tighter hug. You’d hugged a million times before—he’s always been quite liberal with his affections—and a small piece of you always wondered what it would be like to do so in this capacity. It is, of course, better than anything you could have possibly imagined. 

You grab his face, and pull him into a soft, loving kiss. It’s deep this time, sweet and passionate and above all else, familiar. He scoops you into his lap after he pulls out. He kisses your head, your cheeks, your lips. He holds you, rubs soothing circles along your thighs, whispers sweet nothings in your ear. 

“So,” Leon asks after a while, “verdict? Better than those other guys?” 

“So much fucking better, unfortunately.” 

Leon looks down at your quizzically, “Why unfortunately?”

“Because I actually am looking for something serious now.” 

“So am I,” he blurts out. 

You lean back to get a better look at his face then purse your lips and ask, “Are you a clean person?” 

“Obsessively so,” he quotes, beaming at the memory of the night he first met you.

“And you’re not the ‘I can fix her’ type?” 

Leon laughs again, “Still not much of a handyman, really.” 

“Are you a serial killer,” you ask between kisses, “or sexual deviant?”

“No and only if you’re into that.” 

You wrap a gentle hand around the nape of his neck, and bring his lips down to yours. After a dizzying, passionate kiss, you press your forehead to his and ask, “Where do I sign up?”

And Leon realizes that he may not be so bad with words after all.

[apocalypseornaw]

Not Just Dreams

Sam Winchester x Reader

Or maybe it's not just dreams

NSFW happenings

You hummed along to the radio as you cut up the strawberries you'd gotten at the farmer's market a few days before. The fact that Sam hadn't gone with you was still bothering you but hell the three of you lived together, worked together, all of you were due some time to yourself when needed but no matter how much you tried to ignore it you knew it wasn't just that. Sam had been pulling away from you for weeks and you had no idea why.

You heard footsteps behind you and thought for just a minute it may be Sam but your hope was squashed when Dean's hand slipped around you to snatch a few strawberries out of your bowl "Y/N, you seen Sammy?" You shrugged, trying not to seem like something was bothering you "He barely talks to me these days"

You turned to face him and saw the little wrinkle that popped up between his eyebrows when he was thinking hard. "You finally noticed that huh?" You let out a sigh, that meant it wasn't just you. Sam was indeed purposely ignoring you. You nodded, eyeing him carefully "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would ya?"

He shrugged "No clue sweetheart but I'll try to figure him out. We got a hunt so after you eat, get dressed and we'll hit the road. I'm gonna go wake see if he's still asleep or gone on a run" you nodded, watching Dean walk out before you grabbed your strawberries and a bottle of water and headed to your room.

You were everywhere, your scent surrounding him and the taste of your skin heavy on his tongue. "Sam" the whispered gasp of his name from your lips pushed him further towards that edge. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your top half was laid back against the counter of the kitchen, breasts on full display for his large hands to tease and grip. How it'd gone from making breakfast to him being buried inside of you he couldn't remember and didn't care. You were perfect to him, every damn inch, every little sound you made was music to his ears. "Fuck Sam, that feels so damn good" you cried, clenching around him.

"Sam!" Dean's deep voice mixed with his hand gripping Sam's shoulder had him jolting awake in the impala. Dean chuckled "Easy tiger. Don't think you wanna wake Y/N up"

Sam followed Dean's eyes to the backseat where you lay, peacefully asleep curled up under Dean's jacket. He nodded slowly,rubbing a hand across his face. "What was that dream about anyways man? You were making some noises"

Sam cut his eyes at his older brother who wore a smirk "Shut up Dean" the answer was Dean's laughter filling the car. You started to stir so Sam punched Dean's arm "You're gonna wake her up!"

Dean held up a hand, his laughter dying down "Sorry but man if you're having sex dreams you need to get laid" Sam rolled his eyes "I'm not having this conversation with you"

Dean shrugged "Fine. Your dream woman at least sounds like shes amazing" Sam's eyes barely flicked back towards your sleeping form but just enough that Dean caught the movement but chose not to say anything, a plan forming in his head as he drove to force the two of you to admit the feelings he knew you both had. "She is" Sam admitted in barely a whisper before laying his head back against the seat again.

The hunt had gone easily enough. A small nest was easily put down with no injuries on any of you, so you counted that as a win. The only thing that was left was to find a hotel to crash for a few hours before heading back home.

Dean pulled into the Golden Dove Inn. You groaned at the name but it looked clean enough. He parked near the office and cut his eyes from Sam to you "I'll be right back" when he disappeared inside Sam turned to look back at you "Your shoulder ok?" You nodded considering this was the most Sam had willingly spoken to you "Yeah. The ibuprofen helped so I know it wasn't anything serious" he nodded "Good"

Before you could say anything else Dean walked back out, carrying keys and a grin. When he climbed in the car he announced "You two can share right? I'm headed to that bar down the road and want the option for a little company"

You remained quiet, waiting for Sam's answer which came with him shooting daggers at his brother with his glare before saying "Yeah. That's fine"

After an awkward dinner of silence and Chinese food Dean headed to the bar so you claimed the first shower.

When you walked out the bathroom Sam walked into it without a word. You had no clue what you'd done to fuck up your friendship with him but it was weighing heavy on your heart. He was your best friend and you missed him. Hell he was more than that in your heart if you were being honest but you'd long since decided being his friend was better than risking losing him by admitting anything but now it seemed you were losing him anyways.

A part of you wanted to stay up, push him for answers as to what was wrong but you knew him too well to think that would work. He had to deal wth whatever was plaguing his mind on his own, you just wish you had some idea as to what part you had played in it.

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

Sam hesitaed when he stepped out the bathroom. A part of him hoped you were still awake but he honestly had no idea any more how to be around you without letting the memories of the dreams drift into his head. He'd had feelings for you for so long but he'd thought they were buried or had hoped for the sake of your friendship.

Instead he was met with the sight of you curled up on your side, hugging a pillow to you and fast asleep. Christ, you were beautiful. It made his heart ache.

He tossed his dirty clothes next to his duffle bag, praying for a dreamless night as he laid across his own bed.

You weren't sure what had woke you up but two things hit you the moment consciousness rushed back to you. One was that the room was hot, the next was Sam was muttering in his sleep.

You kicked the blanket off your legs and called his name, when you got no response you climbed out the bed to walk over to him but froze when you heard your name. Was he dreaming about you?

It felt wrong to listen but you were too curious as to what had gone wrong between the two of you to care. You paused next to his bed and your eyes widened when he rutted his hips against the bed and muttered "Fuck you feel so good" Sam was having a sex dream...about you.

-----------

He started to stir so you practically dove back into your bed hoping he hadn't realized you were fully awake. He sat up slowly and called your name so you acted like you were just waking up "Yeah?" when you sat up to look at him his cheeks were rosy and it took every ounce of self control you had to not glance down at his crotch.

"Is it hot in here?" "Very" you breathed hoping your voice didn't betray your thoughts.

Sam stood out of the bed and walked over to the small unit in the wall. He clicked a few buttons then smacked the side of it, "It's dead"

"Fuck" you growled, watching him turn up the ceiling fan with an apologetic smile. "Bet Dean's air works" you muttered before kicking the blanket completely off the bed, much to Sam's amusement.

He shook his head but grinned "Do you mind if I take my shirt off?" You shook your head "Naw cause you're about to get a strip show Winchester. I can't sleep in the heat"

----------

When he slipped the shirt over his head you found yourself watching the muscles in his arms flex. Damn he was gorgeous. He smoothed his hair back out his face then cut his eyes at you "Feel free to get comfortable. I'll even face the wall if need be"

You shrugged before slipping your t-shirt off considering you'd put a soft sports bra on under it just in case then slipped your shorts off your legs leaving you in the bra and a pair of black panties "You and Dean both have seen me stripped when I've gotten hurt. Hell modesty could kill in this line of work"

-----------

Sam tried to ignore how his cock twitched in the sweatpants he wore or how the comment about Dean seeing you stripped licked up a flame of jealousy in him. Fuck he wouldn't be getting any sleep with you wearing so little.

He took a deep breath then went back to his bed. He'd just laid down when you called his name. He turned to face you and you were mimicking his posture, both of you propping your head up on one arm to face each other "Are you mad at me?" He shook his head "Of course not"

"You barely talk to me anymore. Even now I feel like it's a struggle for you to meet my eyes" "No one could blame me for being distracted with you wearing what you're wearing" he blurted out, the shock on his face mirroring your own "What?"

---------

He groaned and pushed himself to be fully sitting up "We need to talk but can you promise first to not kick my ass?" You nodded, climbing out of your bed and walking towards his "You van tell me anything Sam"

The fact that he'd dreamt of you in a very similar circumstance didn't miss Sam as he stared at you. Your eyes were full of concern and it made his heart ache. He wanted you to feel the same, wanted to make every dream he'd had reality but the fear of losing you was overwhelming. "I've been having dreams about you" he admitted.

"Dreams?" You asked stepping closer and he swallowed hard "Yeah" your heart was beating wildly. Did he feel the same? Did he want you the way you wanted him?

-----------

"Sam, what kind of dreams?" You asked,stopping just shy of the bed to brush his hair back from his eyes. "Y/N we both know what kind of dreams"

You moved your hand down his face, smiling when his eyes fluttered shut for a moment before your fingers caught his chin, making him look at you. When his eyes met yours you saw the uncertainty there mixed with a need you felt in yourself "Sam, do you want to kiss me?"

He swallowed hard "More than anything and I just don't want one night. I want all of you for as long as you'll have me" you felt a smile split your face "Then claim what's already yours Sammy" you whispered and the moment the words left your mouth you saw an instant change in his demeanor. The uncertainty was gone.

"What's mine?" He echoed so you nodded, slowly climbing into the bed to straddle his waist "Claim what's yours" you repeated. The look in his eyes made you clench around nothing. He looked like he wanted to devour you and to say you were willing was the understatement of the century.

He gripped your hips roughly and turned, flipping you so your back was against the bed "Yes ma'am" he spoke against your lips before pulling you into a hungry kiss.

Sam moved from your lips down across your jaw to your neck. You gasped when he bit down on your pulse point then soothed the area with gentle kisses "Lay back baby, let me take my time" he whispered as his lips moved further down. You whimpered when his large hand cupped your breast through the thin bra "Can I take this off?" You nodded "Please"

You leaned up so he could slip it over your head. Once you were bare to him he froze, letting his eyes take in you bare under him "I'm awake, aren't I?" He asked lightly and you laughed, slipping your hand under the waistband of his sweats to grip his hard cock, lazily stroking it "That feel real?" He swallowed hard and nodded "Very" you grinned "Good. Now show me what those dreams were all about"

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

You were on your stomach, pillows under you to angle your hips just right as Sam rutted into you. Every thrust of his hips had you seeing stars as you felt his lips tease your bare shoulders, teeth lightly grazing the most sensitive skin "Fuck Sam. You're so fucking big, feels so damn good." You were barely coherent from the amount of orgasms he'd wrung out of you between his fingers, tongue and now his cock. He growled as he shifted to bury himself even further inside of you with each snap of his hips "Baby, you're so perfecting perfect, taking me so good. My good girl" he pulled your head back to catch your lips in a messy kiss, his hips never faltering their rhythm.

When you snatched away in need of air he chuckled. "You're so fucking gorgeous, all fucked out like this. Might want to keep you in bed, spread out for me" you'd never known Sam was such a dirty talker or that it'd be such a turn on. "Sam please I can't take much more" he kissed your neck gently "One more baby. Give me one more then I'll fill this pretty little pussy up and let you rest"

You whimpered but nodded. He slipped a hand under you and when his fingers found your clit your hips started to move back to meet his thrusts, needing to meet him on that high and ride it together. "You want to come with me huh?" You asked and you nodded "So damn sweet for me" he cooed, pushing your shoudlers down "Play with your clit for me sweetheart"

You slipped your hand under you, teasing your clit while he sat a punishing pace. You would be hoarse tomorrow from screaming his name but you could've cared less. You felt that pleasure building inside of you at the same time his hips started to falter. "Just like that Sam. Oh fuck" you moaned as the pleasure burst.

He buried himself deep inside of you with one final thrust, his release coating the walls of your pussy. He stilled then, hands massaging your shoulders and leaving light kisses "You ok Y/N?" He asked, voice full of worry. You laughed, turning your head to look at him "I think I love you Sam" he laughed lightly "Good because I know I love you"

@kindacher @janineb86

[coff33andb00ks]

20 Oscar

20: pressing the other’s hand against their cheek

warnings: author doesn't understand the meaning of the word "short" and (badly written) descriptions of a wreck during a race (no injuries)

driver + number = drabble/short fic <3

Piastri just doesn't give a fuck.

Oscar is just too chill.

Does he ever show emotion except when he's laughing at Lando?

You try to stay out of comments. Hell, you try to stay off social media, it's nothing but a cesspool of people with too much time on their hands and not enough brain cells to comprehend more than the surface level of what they're shown. But sometimes you like it, because there are creative people who put out beautifully edited videos of your boyfriend. Sometimes you show them to him, enjoying his giggling while he watches and shakes his head over someone finding him attractive enough to warrant a thirty second video set to a Rihanna song.

But the comments about his emotionless black cat behavior hurt. He's so much more than how he portrays himself. He's vibrant and so full of life, and you will forever appreciate the people who see beyond his social anxiety and notice his amazing sense of humor, his passion for racing and life. They'll never know the real him and will probably never understand why you fell in love with him.

Him. The sweet and shy guy who'd come to your defense when a rude customer had been berating you over a wrong order. His voice had cut over her yelling, calm and measured, and after your manager had kicked out the irrationally angry woman it had been Oscar that had approached you to check on you, frowning when he saw your tears. His gentle tone had calmed you, his respectful stance had won your admiration, and his calling the woman a fucking cunt had made you smile.

You wish you could defend him as he continues to defend you. When a video questioning how a nobody like you had bagged a formula one rookie had gone somewhat viral he'd taken to twitter and unleashed such a beautifully worded rant that people were still quoting it more than a year later.

It's come to my attention that some so-called fans are referring to my girlfriend as a nobody. Allow me to introduce her to you. She's funny, she's brilliant, she's beautiful. She's every word you can think of to describe the perfect person and she's so much more. She shines light in the darkest corners of my soul. Her eyes are a map of my universe. When you look at us together, know that I am constantly trying to be worthy of the love she gives me, and know that if you speak ill of her you will never have my respect but you will have my disgust.

You would never ever doubt his love for you. Not that you ever had but that had cemented it. You could never come to his defense in such a way. If you even tried you'd be sneered at for being a try hard.

And really, you didn't need to. Because the one thing Oscar did not give a fuck about was anyone's opinion. Only a handful of people mattered enough to him for him to care what they thought. You were blessed to be included on that list.

You love him so much that for a while it scared you, having never fallen into the this one person is my moon and stars mindset. But now you understand. He didn't just hang them, he is your moon and stars. Your one and only and if for some reason this doesn't end in forever you'll be ruined for any other man.

It was still a shock, though, when you felt your heart stop beating as you watched his car careen towards the barrier. The front wing clipped Max's rear tire and you can't breathe, watching in slow motion as the brightly colored car tips and lifts into the air. There is nothing but absolute silence around you in the McLaren garage and you're frozen, staring at the monitor while his car flips and rolls, carbon fiber flying in every direction when it lands upside down, his helmet just visible as it slides to a stop at the safety fence.

Silence. Then pandemonium. Your world has just flipped and spun and you can't breathe, ears straining to hear him but you can only hear the crackle of the radio when Zak and Tom try to get him to respond.

Then, finally, his voice. Shaken and scared. "Are they okay? Please tell me they're okay."

Of course he'd ask after the others involved. You can finally breathe but it hurts, not knowing that he's okay. And you can't do anything but wait, heart barely beating until he's finally out, he's moving, he's giving the fans a thumbs up as he's put on the stretcher. You still can't do a thing and you've never felt more useless than you do while you're waiting just inside the medical center with Zak and Lando, who'd come to wait during the red flag.

Then the most beautiful words you've ever heard.

"He's okay."

There's more after that, about him being transported to the local hospital for a complete check, the possibility of a concussion but he's okay. And you're allowed to go see him while the ambulance is readied.

He's sitting up, looking a little pale but he's not hurt, he's in one piece, and when he sees you he gasps. You try to be gentle when you embrace him, but he steals your breath, holding you so tightly it hurts, his face pressed into your neck.

"They won't tell me - are Max and George okay?" His voice is strained and you feel his tears.

"They're fine, my love," you promise.

"I didn't mean for it to happen, I don't know what I did. I was going good and then I was upside down." His voice shakes and cracks and he's trembling, one hand fisting in your shirt. You reach for the other.

"Shh shh... It's okay my love," you whisper, your tears finally spilling when he guides your hand up, holding it to his cheek as he lets out a shaky breath. "Everyone's okay, you're okay."

His eyes meet yours and your world rights itself.

[kyliekast]

ok ok i know this is cliche but i gotta know how baby daddy au patrick reacts to reader feeling insecure about their post-pregnancy body... maybe re-directing his hands during a heavy makeout sesh or asking to keep their shirt on while they do it cos there's not a single body type that doesn't turn patrick zweig on and if his partner doesn't know that? THIS WILL NOT STAND.

omfg stop. you're both giving jake a bath, testing how his skin reacts to a new body wash because he's sensitive, and while he's watching him, he notices you looking at yourself in the mirror, checking out your ass and your hips, wider now, the bit of loose skin on your stomach, your stretch marks. you're wearing denim shorts and a tank top, no bra, your thighs and hard nipples on full display. he licks his lips.

"why are you checking out my girl?"

"i'm not your girl, patrick." you immediately stop looking at yourself and crouch beside him at the bathtub, gently pouring water over jake's skin. he giggles — he looks more like his dad every day.

"you look hot."

"you're not getting laid. i need to be home after this, my mom will kill me. she already thinks you're gonna knock me up again."

"i'm not trying to get laid, i'm just saying: you're hot."

you try not to need that praise, but it feels good, especially when you've been feeling bad. patrick puts jake to bed while you shower -- his water pressure is so nice --, and when you come out of patrick's en suite, he's pretending to be texting someone, but he eyes your robe every couple seconds. where he lounges, legs splayed from his boxers, you can see the muscle of his thighs, the hair there, his happy trail.

"... what do you want?"

"you."

"you're insatiable."

"you showered without a change of clothes."

caught. "i like your water pressure." you chew your cheek and walk towards patrick's dresser to borrow a shirt and pajama pants, but you're interrupted when his bed rustles and he comes up behind you.

he grips your hips and kisses down your neck, nose nudging your wet hair. "come on, you make me so fucking hard. i need this pussy."

you bend over the cabinet, and he grips your hips, grinding through your robe. when he smacks your ass, it's muted on the fabric, but he leaves his imprint in greedy, entitled grasps, jiggling the skin. "let me take this fucking robe off, let me see you."

he does, deft fingers undoing the tie, and he immediately grips you by your middle and walks you to his mirror, groping your tits. you whimper and hide your face in his neck. "god fucking damn." one palm on your breast, he snakes the other down to hold your belly, gripping its mellow skin. "so sexy, you don't even know... look. look at you."

patrick grabs your chin and faces you toward the mirror.

"look at my girl, check her out, come on."

that night, he fucks you in doggy, letting you hang off the bed in your reflection. you watch his hands grip your ass, spank you, press thumbs into your hips. he holds his shirt in his mouth to give himself a better few of your cunt, and every time you clench, he groans, eyes rolling back.

[silent-stories]

I'm with the band

(Eddie Munson x F!reader) reader has long hair, mention of drugs.

"There are too many people out there,” Eddie said nervously, aimlessly pacing in the backstage for the fourth time, nearly colliding with the other band members who were getting ready to go on stage.

He wasn’t wrong; the Hideout had never been this crowded, and you were the one to thank (or to blame). You had invited Robin to come see Corroded Coffin play that night, and she had called Vickie, who in turn had invited some of her friends. While chatting with Robin, Nancy and Jonathan overheard and joined in (despite Nancy not seeming thrilled about “listening to four guys scream all night”), and Jonathan had invited his quirky friend visiting from California too, who brought along more friends.

In short, friends had invited more friends, and they, in turn, had invited others, making the place more packed than it had ever been.

Eddie’s dark curls bounced on his shoulders with each step, and his self-cropped Anthrax t-shirt, cut with kitchen scissors a few days prior, revealed a sliver of his stomach.

Jeff rolled his eyes and walked away. He wasn’t ready to hear Eddie give the same speech for the fifth time in half an hour.

“Eddie, can you stop for a moment?” you got up from the old armchair where you’d been sitting since they let you into the backstage area that evening.

You grabbed a drumstick Gareth had left on the table and used it to secure your hair into something that was supposed to be a messy bun. It was a habit you’d picked up a few weeks ago, and you were pretty sure your drummer friend was starting to hate you for it.

"Eddie,” you repeated his name when you reached him, placing your hands on his arms to stop him. “It's gonna be okay.”

He let out a long sigh, wondering if you were aware that your touch alone could calm him in seconds, more effectively than hundreds of words ever could. When your hands returned to your sides, he already missed that contact.

He stared at you for a moment, his brown eyes filled with insecurity. “No,” he shook his head.

“Eds, you need to stay calm. They’ll like you, and-”

“Sweetheart, no one likes us. You’re the only person who claps every time we play here.”

“Because the other times, there wasn’t enough audience! This time will be different, trust me.”

“The last time I played in front of so many people, I was in middle school, and the whole school laughed at me. I’m not ready to experience that again.”

Eddie saw how your expression softened and worried at the same time, and he almost wished he hadn’t said it.

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it even more than his quick pacing had already done. “God, I really need a joint right now.”

You let out a little laugh at that comment, and one corner of Eddie’s lips involuntarily lifted. The sound of your laughter always made him happier.

“No, all you need is a friend who tells you that you’ll rock it and that everything will be fine. And I’m here now, telling you that.” You stood on tiptoe to fix a stray curl.

“Trust me, please?” When you looked at him like that he couldn't help but believe you, or at least try. You always believed in him.

"Okay."

You smiled. God, you were so pretty and he had been so anxious that night that he hadn't even remembered to tell you.

"Okay?"

"Okay." He repeated, more confident this time.

Somewhere behind you you heard Jeff shout. "Five minutes and we're on stage!"

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed.

"Eddie. Eds, look at me. You have to promise me two things before you go out there. I'm serious."

Eddie remained silent, nodding slightly.

"The first is that whatever people do, think or say, you have to remember that it won't define you. I know who you are. I know what you're worth. I don't give a shit about them. A shit. Zero. Nada."

Eddie chuckled. "Second thing?"

"Second thing is, when you're famous you'll let me come on tour with you."

Eddie laughed, for real this time. Those dimples that you loved so much have appeared on his face. "You said you were serious!"

"Oh and I am! One hundred percent!"

Eddie, still laughing, placed his hand over his heart, as if swearing a solemn oath. "I promise on my honor."

"Okay, I'm happy now."

"I wouldn't go anywhere without you anyway. You're pretty much an integral part of the band now. I planned on kidnapping you in case I ever left town but you make things a lot easier now."

"Well, I guess you won't need it."

"Two minutes!" Jeff shouted.

"I think I have to go now."

You nodded, a smile still on your lips.

"C'mere." He quickly said before wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest in a hug.

You inhaled his scent for a few seconds, it was smoke and cheap beer, like all the other times. For you, there was nothing better.

After a moment, you slightly pulled away but his hand was still on your back, as if he wasn't ready to let you go, and you found yourself looking into his chocolate brown eyes trying to figure out what was happening.

His gaze wasn't on your eyes though. It seemed like your mouth had caught his attention.

When you realized his lips were so close to yours that you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin, a voice interrupted the moment.

You cleared your throat as Eddie took a step back.

"My drum stick!" Gareth repeated, a bit of frustration but also amazement because of what he had just seen in his voice, moving his gaze between the two of you.

"Fuck, you're right." You murmured, pulling it out of your hair and handing it to him. You had completely forgotten about it.

Gareth looked at his friend. "Are you coming with us or you two want to get a room?"

"Yes, no, I mean. I'm coming, fuck, I mean. I'm ready. All ready. Yes. Ready."

You giggled when you saw a light shade of red on his cheeks.

"I'll be cheering for you in the front row, you know that."

"I know. Thank you sweetheart."

He looked at you one last time before following Gareth onto the stage.

You stood there for a second. Wondering what the hell just happened.

Then you left the backstage.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[4:59 pm]

(cw: spoilers for Bridgerton season 3, description of a steamy scene from Bridgerton)

You had been waiting two long years for season 3. A season that for you and many other was highly anticipated since you already knew the characters that were going to fall in love. You were excited to see the shenanigans the Bridgertons would get up to, if Eloise and Penelope would med their friendship, and how Anthony and Kate would act like a married couple. You were beyond excited.

You'd gotten all your errands and some chores done earlier in the day just so you could have your afternoon free to watch part 1 of season 3.

You'd made it all the way through episode 1 with no distractions. Then came episode 2 and Jaehyun had lingered behind you while watching Colin "train" Penelope. 10 minutes later he was still standing behind you and asking questions. You were frustrated, sure, but you still paused the show to explain the Bridgerton lore. And 5 minutes later you were restarting part 1 for Jaehyun to watch from the beginning.

Now, here you were on the last episode of part 1 at the edge of your seat. You felt your heart ache for Penelope, Lord Debling really could have been a nice match for her. Was she in love with him? No, but what else was Colin doing besides being stupid?

"Wait!" You heard from the screen.

Jaehyun gasped, "it's Colin!"

"Shut up! I can't hear!"

The door of the carriage was pulled open and sure enough, there stood Colin. Jaehyun turned up the volume and you leaned forward, closer to the screen. Something big was going to happen, you knew it.

You bit your lip as you watched Penelope snap at Colin, ugh she was so right. You rolled your eyes as he gave his reasoning, as if she owed him anything. And then feelings! Colin has feelings for Penelope!

You throw yourself back and kick your legs with excitement, he likes her! Your heart soared hearing his confession, god, every confession in every season was amazing.

"But I'd very much like to be more than friends," Penelope breathed heavily.

Jaehyun yelled excitedly, "they're kissing! Again!"

You watched with your jaw dropped as the kissing got steamier and steamier, then the kissing led down her chest, and woah- exposed shoulder.

"What is his hand doing?! What is he doing!?" Jaehyun yelled with his hands in his hair, stressed but intrigued.

Penelope's jaw drops and the music peaks, Jaehyun gasps, "People can see! There's a window right there!"

Your own hand is over your mouth, watching in absolute shock as Jaehyun watches Colin... explore beneath Penelope's dress until the carriage comes to a stop in front of the Bridgerton house.

You both sit in silence, trying to process what you watched, taking in the words and the rest of the scene, too in shock to laugh at Colin's horniness.

Colin pulls Penelope's strap back onto her shoulder and your jaw drops once again. You can hear Jaehyun's surprised whisper, "his fingers."

Colin steps out of the carriage and you're confused, eyebrows furrowed, until Colin says, "Are you going to marry me or not?"

You squeal and Jaehyun stands in shock before pausing the show to gather his thoughts.

"That's it? He kisses the girl 2 times, has a sex dream, and gets under her dress and he wants to marry the girl? All the seasons are like this?"Jaehyun asks out loud.

You think it over, "um, similar but more angst."

"More?! What are we doing? Put them on!"

[thelov3lybookworm]

Figuratively Dying

Summary: the night before their wedding, Cassian is losing his mind.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: a tiny lil fluffy drabble to let you all know im coming back w my fics now that many of u are done with exams hehe 🤭

Cassian was dying.

Figuratively, he was dying.

Literally, he was very much alive, if his restlessness was any indication.

Every few moments, his wings would twitch, nervousness and anticipation slowly trickling into his bloodstream, making it impossible to sit still.

"Sit down brother. Time is not going to pass quicker if you burn a hole in the floor."

Cassian snarled in response, eyes flitting over to meet star flecked ones of Rhysand, who exposed his palms in a placating motion. "I’m just saying. Instead of tiring yourself out and making us dizzy, why don’t you sit down and have a drink?"

Azriel snorted in response. "Do you really think he cares about your opinion right now?"

Cassia reigned in a snarl, instead turning to stare out the open doors of the balcony, his mind again contemplating knocking out his brothers just so he could go to meet his love.

Cassian was being held captive.

It was downright cruel, if he said so himself. Mor had come up with the stupid rule. That he was to stay away from his soon to be wife for a whole day before their wedding.

Why, Cassian couldn’t understand. But here he was, being forced to comply.

"Cass-"

"I swear on the dark waters of the cauldron Rhys, if you don’t shut you big mouth now, I am going to fucking knock you out."

"I’m just-"

Thump.

Wide hazel eyes flew to Cassian’s, alarmed, as Rhys lost consciousness.

Cassian stared back, hand burning from the blow he had dealt, and finally, Azriel gestured at him. "Go. I am not stopping you."

"Fucking finally." Cassian mumbled as he stalked out into the open night, his wings stretching to catch the wind in their leathery grip, and then let them carry him away.

The clear air penetrated his lungs, expanding them to their full might, and washed all his nervousness for the day after away. Everything was going to go well. He was sure of it.

But he was so tired. He missed her so much.

It didn’t take long until he was hovering over the balcony that led to the room he shared with his lover, Y/n.

Slowly, so slow that a snail would have laughed at him, Cassian let himself land, eyes already searching for her without permission.

"Sunshine?"

Silence. Heavy, pregnant silence.

And then- "Cass?"

The puff of air turned white in front of his face, and steeling himself, he stepped forward.

There she stood, in nothing but a silk nightgown, staring at him with wide eyes. "What- what are you doing here?"

He said nothing, giving himself a moment to admire the angel that had blessed him by just even looking in his direction.

"Cass?"

He stepped forward, his wings folding of their own accord the closer he got to her. Y/n simply stared at him, perplexed, and refused to move even when he reached out to her. Which he was happy about as he grabbed her in his arms, releasing a breath of relief.

"Oh I missed you, sunshine."

"Is that why you are here? You do know Mor will have your head if-"

"Mor can shut the fuck up. The fact that she does not have an angel of a wife to cuddle with does not mean I should stay away from mine."

He could hear her blood rushing to her face, and sure enough, when he pulled back from mumbling into her neck, she refused to meet his eyes.

"Cass-"

"Yes, sunshine?"

She rolled her eyes at his teasing smirk, finally leaning into his embrace. "I missed you too."

Cassian hummed, walking her back until they had reached the bed. Then he picked her up, her thighs wrapping around his waist, and crawled onto the plush material of the mattress. "Good night."

She yelped as he dropped all his weight onto her, and even though Cassian knew she liked it, he could not help but wonder if he should have been gentler. "Are you staying here?"

He scoffed. "Of course I am. Where else would I stay?"

"Mor-"

"Shh. I love you." He mumbled, pressing his face into her chest.

He could feel her vibrating laughter, and it made him smile too, knowing he was the reason.

"Good night. I love you." She muttered, reaching her fingers out to caress the back of his head softly. "I can’t wait for tomorrow."

"Me neither."

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing @artists-ally @riddlesb1tch

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

@girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination @sunnyspycat

@buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming

Cassian Taglist: @moonlwghts @samslittlespoon @nickishadow139

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [26] - Breaking the Rules

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Fighting for the crown comes with decisions.

Word Count: 2600

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Growing up as your father’s heir, you had to memorize certain rules.

Honoring the alliances was one of them. No family could survive on its own in this line of work against all the others, and it was a matter of honor not to cross or go behind your allies.

Not putting civilians in danger was another. The business and its deals or disagreements could only affect the people who chose to be in it, civilians were always off limits.

But the most important rule that was drilled into your and every heir’s head?

Never, ever do anything to break the truce.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up and you tried to smile at Becca. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

No.

No you really weren’t.

What you and Bucky were planning was way too dangerous, which meant that you couldn’t say that to anyone, Becca included.

“Sure!” you said as Leila came back to the table, carrying coffees.

“Thanks babe,” Becca pecked her on the lips and she smiled at her.

“Not a problem!” she said. “So, is there any reason why you look so gloomy, Y/N?”

Shit.

“Gloomy?” you asked with a small laugh. “I don’t look gloomy.”

“Is Ethan being his tortured lover self again?”

“He’s not—” you stopped yourself. “I haven’t talked to him in a while actually.”

“Bucky then?”

“Oh is this about that girl you told me about?” Becca asked. “Anna?”

You blinked a couple of times. “Uh…”

“Anna?” Leila asked and Becca waved a hand in the air.

“This incredibly hot woman Bucky is doing business with.”

“Did I say she was incredibly hot?”

“You said hot and I stalked her,” Becca said helpfully, “She is incredibly hot.”

“Thanks a lot Bec,” you muttered and Leila tilted her head.

“Let me see!”

“I’m not gloomy because of Anna,” you said and paused for a moment. “Although, Bucky does have a meeting with her today.”

“Here,” Becca said, handing her the phone and Leila raised her brows, staring at the screen before licking her lips.

“Maybe she just has a terrible personality.”

“You guys are the best,” you muttered and Becca let out a laugh.

“We’re joking, obviously you’re hotter.”

“For some reason I highly doubt that,” you pointed out and Leila rolled her eyes at you.

“You are,” she said. “But jealousy is less about looks and more about the vibes.”

“I’m not jealous!” you said, your voice going a pitch higher before you cleared your throat. “I wasn’t even thinking about her until you brought her up.”

“Then what—” Becca started but your phone started vibrating on the table, making you grimace when your eyes fell on the caller ID.

“Excuse me for a moment,” you said and grabbed your phone, then walked out of the café to answer it. “Auntie?”

“Y/N hi honey!” her cheerful voice reached you. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Nah, I’m just with my friends,” you said and she hummed.

“Well then, clear out your schedule for the afternoon because we’re having an aunt-niece lunch,” she said, making your eyes widen.

“Oh I actually—I had this thing—”

“I already made the reservation, I’ll send you the details,” she cut off your stammering. “See you in two hours!”

With that, she hung up and you threw your head back, letting out a groan.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself. “Just what I needed today.”

                                                       *

Of course your aunt had picked a restaurant in your father’s territory and of course it was already swarming with your father’s people. Unlike you, she had no problem with being followed by bodyguards even if the restaurant seemed to be closed to any other people but you two and the bodyguards, so you tried not to roll your eyes as you sat down, the waitress bringing your food almost immediately. You pulled your brows together and your aunt sat up straighter.

“I ordered for the both of us already,” she said, making you hum.

“Wonderful,” you said. “Thanks.”

“So,” she smiled at you. “I figured today is as good of a day as any to catch up!”

No, today was supposed to be about you having an existential crisis at home, and yet here you were.

“How’s marriage going?”

Jesus Christ.

“It’s going well,” you said curtly before digging into the salad in front of you. “And you? How are you after the break up?”

“Oh,” she waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s not talk about that. Bucky seems like he grew into such a gentleman!”

“Mm hm.”

“And George is happy being retired?”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Bucky is doing a great job,” you said, unaware of the proud tone in your voice. “So yes. He probably does miss being more involved in the business but it’s Bucky’s time now. George knows it.”

“Promising heir turns into successful king, not much of a surprise there,” she commented and you sipped your wine.

“Exactly.”

“And speaking of heirs…” your aunt said, making your eyes shoot up to hers.

Fucking—

Yeah, you had walked right into that.

You knew that everything you said and did, even the smallest reaction would be reported back to either Ian or your father, so you had to keep your calm. Even though anger had started to boil deep inside you, you lowered your wine glass, tilting your head at her.

“Hm?”

“Your father may have mentioned that things between you and him are rather tense lately,” she said. “Especially after him naming Ian as his heir.”

You frowned, feigning confusion before taking your fork into your mouth again.

“I didn’t think they were tense,” you said after swallowing your bite. “Is that what he thinks?”

She paused only for a moment.

“It is,” she said. “And you know how important family is. We don’t always have to see eye to eye, but we do have to support each other.”

“Does father think I won’t support Ian?” you asked silkily and she licked her lips, deep in thought.

“Ian worked really hard to be where he is right now, Y/N,” she said, making you pull your brows together. “I am aware that you might feel some resentment but that position belongs to Ian now. And we as his family must make sure to make his job easier.”

You wanted to laugh at the audacity but managed to keep your expression under control. Of course she supported him, that much wasn’t surprising but—

Ian working for where he was?

He hadn’t even bothered to go through half of the training you had.

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this,” you told her. “It’s father’s job to make Ian’s job easier, he was the one who named him heir. What I think about his decision doesn’t hold any power in this, I’m not in the business—”

“Yes you are.”

You scoffed. “Well, that’s news to me then. Do you know something I don’t?”

She shot you a look.

“You and I both know that some bosses in the city support you to become the heir, not Ian.”

You bit back a smirk and took another sip of your wine.

“Which is normal, outsiders can have different ideas, it’s the family that decides on the heir,” she said. “But Bucky…Bucky is family now.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t control Bucky.”

“Yes you do,” she insisted. “And Bucky doesn’t necessarily like Ian, does he?”

The realization dawned on you in a second; your father hadn’t put your aunt up to this.

Ian had, because he felt threatened by Bucky.

Which in all honesty was a bit insulting, because even with other bosses supporting you to become the heir, he still didn’t think you yourself were a viable threat to him.

You pushed at your salad with your fork, pretending to be nonchalant.

“Strange as it may sound, me and Bucky don’t really spend our time talking about Ian,” you said and your aunt heaved a sigh, then reached out to clasp her hand over yours.

“Honey,” she said. “You know what will happen if a war breaks out.”

“Tell that to Ian, not me,” you said. “He seemed to be very interested in a war the last time we spoke. I know what happens if a war breaks out, does he?”

“He’s still very excited to prove himself,” she said, making you clench your jaw. “So he may come across a bit… wild but he will not start a war.”

“Funny how everyone around him seems to have to make excuses for him.”

“So many people died before the truce,” she insisted. “So many families. I know that your father promised you that position, but you cannot set the whole city on fire just because he changed his mind. Ian is the heir now, you and everyone else need to make your peace with it.”

Anger was pulsing through your veins and you dug your fingernails into your palm, then pushed at your plate and stood up.

“I have this thing, so…”

“Y/N—”

“And for the record, I’m not setting the whole city on fire,” you told her. “Make sure to hear the same thing from Ian, will you? Because from the looks of it, people aren’t that thrilled to do business with him when he’s been foaming at the mouth to start a war.”

With that, you walked out of the restaurant with your bodyguards following you.

                                              *

As much as you hated to admit, your aunt’s words did manage to make you even more restless. You had tried to take a nap but it was no use, and by the time Bucky got home, you had been pacing in the apartment for almost an hour now. He had some blood on him so he had gone straight to the bathroom to take a long shower, and when he came back, he found you by the window, your gaze fixed on the skyline.

“Hey beautiful.”

You looked over your shoulder and tried to smile at him.

“Hey,” you said. “Whose blood was it?”

“Some idiot,” he said. “Not important. Are you okay?”

“How was the meeting with Anna?”

“It was good, everything is going pretty smoothly. Are you okay?”

You turned around to see him better, then nodded your head.

“Sure!” you said. “There’s uh…there’s dinner in the—”

“What’s going on?” he cut you off, stepping closer to you and you heaved a sigh, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Nothing, it’s just…it’s been a long day.”

“I thought you were meeting Becca today.”

“I did,” you said. “Then my aunt asked to have lunch together so that totally ruined my day.”

He raised his brows. “What did she say?”

“Usual bullshit,” you said. “She wants me to support Ian.”

Bucky snorted. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen.”

“And Ian is intimidated by you.”

“Good,” Bucky said. “Does he also know the only reason he’s alive is because of the truce he’s been so excited to break? Someone should let him know.”

“He thinks he’s untouchable, you know that,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “He doesn’t even carry a gun, he’s that sure of himself. Ryan carries his gun for him.”

Bucky threw his head back. “Does he—” he started but was cut off when his phone vibrated on the table. Your heart skipped a beat as he read the text message, then held up the phone.

“So…” he said. “Are we doing this tonight?”

You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster before you ran a hand over your face.

“Bucky, is this a mistake?”

He tilted his head. “Why would it be a mistake?”

“We’re ordering a hit on a shipment,” you whispered. “That’s breaking the truce.”

“Eh, it’s not like they’ll know who did it.”

“But if they somehow figure it out?” you insisted as you stepped away from him to pace in the room again. “I keep telling myself Ian is the wrong choice, but what does it say about me that I’m willing to risk war? That I’m willing to risk so much bloodshed just to get there?”

“That you have what it takes.”

“Do I?” you asked him. “At that cost? You heard the same thing I did while we were growing up, over and over again. Never break the truce—”

“We’re not breaking the truce,” he assured you. “No one will know it’s us, and even if they did somehow figure it out; your father will kill me on grounds of breaking the truce sweetheart, nothing will happen to you.”

Even the thought of it was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t say that,” you murmured, rubbing at your eyes. “Just don’t.”

He shot you a playful smile. “I thought you wanted me dead.”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead,” you grumbled as you approached the window to look outside again. “It just feels…”

“Overwhelming?” he asked you as he came closer before his hands clasped over your shoulders, massaging there, making your eyes flutter close.

“A little,” you admitted and he hummed.

 “Of course it’s overwhelming, we’re pushing you to the top.”

You opened your eyes again, then turned around to look at him better.

“Why are you risking your own life for this?”

“Because I want to see you at the top of the food chain,” he said, then flashed you a smirk. “And on top of me but—”

“Bucky,” you said warningly as if that didn’t make your stomach do a happy flip despite the tension and he chuckled.

“Because unlike what your father seems to think, you’re the right choice for this.”

“And you still think that about me even if I’m putting the truce in danger right now?” you asked and his smile widened.

“You could shoot me right now and I’d still think that, princess.”

You nibbled on your lip, a warmth spreading in your chest before you let out a bitter chuckle.

“We’re both fucked up, you do realize that?”

“I know,” he said. “But fucked up or not, will you be alright when Ian inevitably burns your father’s empire down? The empire that belongs to you?”

You swallowed thickly as he ran his fingertips over your bare arm, awakening fire underneath your skin.

“Stop playing by your father’s rules,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “It’s your game now, you make the rules.”

You pursed your lips together before taking a deep breath, then looked up at him.

“Give the order.”

Bucky smiled at you, then touched the phone’s screen before taking it to his ear.

“Do it,” he said, then hung up, making you let out a breath, your head spinning because of the adrenaline rushing through you. Bucky stepped closer to press a kiss on your temple and you rested your forehead on his chest for a moment, letting his irresistible scent fill your nostrils.

“You’re alright.”

“I’m alright,” you muttered to his chest and pulled back to nod your head as if trying to convince yourself. “I am.”

“You are,” Bucky said, then smiled at you. “So let’s get drinks and dessert, hm? To celebrate your first ever hit order in the business?”

A nervous laughter climbed up your throat. “What?”

“Yeah I’ll even put a candle on the champagne— or on the cake, I haven’t decided yet,” he told you, pulling you by the wrist through the room while you giggled.

“Bucky wait, I need to do my makeup if we’re going out—”

“Less whining more walking princess, come on,” he said and you snatched your coat off the hanger as you walked past it, then followed him out of the apartment, still smiling.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Leon Day

Summary: The reader makes Dean breakfast on Leon Day and explains what the day is. While she has some fun things planned, Dean shares some of his own future plans with her...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,000ish

Warnings: language, 15x20 finale spoiler (fic takes place post 15x20 though)

A/N: Enjoy!

_______

“Y/N,” said Dean, scratching his head when he came into the kitchen for breakfast. “I haven’t been in a coma lately right?”

“No...why would you ask that?” you said. Dean pointed behind him to the string lights hanging in the hall, colorful lights twinkling along the wall. “Oh that? It’s Leon day.”

“Who’s Leon?” he asked, padding over to his usual stool, yawning and curling into himself. You ruffled his hair and slid a cup of coffee in front of him.

“It’s June 25th. Exactly six months from Christmas,” you said.

“Is it Leon’s birthday?” he asked. “Whoever he is?”

“No silly,” you said, returning your attention to making pancakes.

“Can I have chocolate chips?” he asked. “Please.”

“Uh we’re out of chips but blueberries instead?” you asked, holding up the package.

“That’s fine,” he said, spinning in his seat. “So...lights?”

“Well Leon is Noel backwards and since it’s six months from Christmas it’s kinda like a mini-Christmas day,” you said.

“Never heard of it.”

“Well most people have never heard of a devil’s trap but that’s a thing that exists too,” you said. He hummed and sipped on his coffee, crossing his legs on his seat. He looked younger like that and you smiled, hoping he was in a good mood this morning. “I only decorated a little bit.”

“So it’s like Christmas? I didn’t get you any presents,” he said.

“We don’t have to do presents. It’s more about, doing things together, making cookies, having a nice dinner together. Maybe take a day off from hunting,” you said. You put your back to him and finished with his pancakes, dropping some fresh blueberries on top for him when you were all done. You hummed and slid the plate in front of him, giving him a fork and knife along with a glass of water.

“I uh, actually wanted to talk to you about hunting. Sam and I saw something online,” he said. You sighed and poured more batter into the pan.

“A new case?” you asked, forcing a smile into your voice.

“This big house in Lawrence. Not obnoxiously big but it’s big, big enough for like eight people I’d say,” he said.

“Is it haunted?” you said, watching the batter bubble and begin cooking.

“It’s for sale. We were thinking of buying it. He was gonna talk to Eileen and I said I’d talk to you about it.”

“About…”

“Buying it,” said Dean. You turned and frowned at him, Dean shoveling his second pancake into his mouth. “What?”

“First off, chew. Second, why would you guys buy a house? You’re not suddenly going to become the Property Brothers are you?”

“No silly. The house would be for us. Obviously we’d ward the shit out of it but yeah, house. What do you think?” 

“Why would we get a house?” you asked. Dean rolled his eyes and you put the rest of the pancakes on a plate, bringing them over and taking a seat beside him. “Like, is there something wrong with the bunker?”

“Nothing wrong with her. But Jack and Cas are up working in heaven and the world’s not so scary...and I did have a house in heaven when I was there.”

“You still haven’t told me about whatever space time continuum crap you broke in order to be back from the dead.”

“Jack just said it was alright so I’m back and considering you weren’t up in Heaven like we all thought you were, we all decided on a do over. I missed you and I liked that house but I want you in that house with me.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying...let’s go live in a house and maybe I hunt every once in a while, maybe I run point for some other hunters, if we decide to go that route. Maybe I do something different for work. But I’m also saying, I like waking up and having pancakes and having random holidays and being happy and I can decide to do what I want, for me. I want a warm happy house with my family. You can decorate it for whatever holidays you want if I can have that.”

“We can have that,” you said quietly. You reached over and he already was meeting you there, hugging you with a happy sigh. “You’re really ready to leave all this behind?”

“We can always come visit this place. But I think our family should grow up the way we didn’t get to. We deserve that at the very least.”

“And you said you didn’t get any presents,” you said, holding him tight.

“I may have known you were planning this,” he teased. “I waited a little longer to share the news than I was hoping to but I figured you wouldn’t mind your Leon day present.”

“No, no I don’t,” you said. He kissed you and grinned before he hopped up. He dug around in the pantry and pulled out a bag of peppermint white chocolate chips. “Well now you’re just bragging.”

“I heard we were making cookies,” he said, dropping them on the counter. “Later though. After my yummy breakfast.”

“After your breakfast,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Love you. Best mini Christmas ever.”

“Love you too sweetheart. This Christmas you’ll have a whole house to decorate. Think you can handle that?”

“Absolutely. As long as I get some help?”

“Yeah I think you can swing that,” he said. He kissed your temple and hummed, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “So where’s my present in all this? I mean, I got a house and like a life changing decision for you and I got pancakes?”

“You fucking love pancakes,” you said.

“Guilty as charged,” he said. 

“I’ll make you them every single day if you want, how’s that sound?”

“Every single day?” he hummed.

“For the next week.” He chuckled and nodded. “Love you.”

“Love you back Dean.”

___________

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 17

Part 17:

The silence in Liana and Patrick's room had a static tint. Like hearing a sound from an old song over and over again but not knowing which song it is. A familiar but distant feeling. A repression that explodes in your face. Over and over and over again.

The knowledge that she was alone made it easier for her to release the tears, as if in this characterless room, in the fancy hotel, she could allow herself to be well…herself. And all she wanted right now was to lie on the bed in a fetal position and cry over the years she wasted. Over the time that won't come back. Over wrong choices. Over mistakes. Mistakes. Mistakes. So many mistakes. Why couldn't she be one of those people who shout "bingo" after exactly three rounds? Why does everything have to be complicated? Why does someone else always win?

Patrick came in late. As if he wasn’t even trying to hide what he did. Liana fell asleep easily, it was past midnight, and he expected her to be asleep. To his surprise, the light was on and Liana was packing a suitcase. "Lilo, what's going on?" He swallowed hard. He didn't see her face but his heart was racing, 'You know what's going on.' "Lilo," her voice was quiet, and sarcasm washed over her like the last of the cynics as she chuckled while repeating the nickname.

"Where were you, Patrick?" She turned to him, and he swallowed hard. She was swollen and red from crying and anger, and like always, all her emotions were displayed on her face like a billboard. He had seen her contempt for him before, but not like this. Not with such determination.

"Liana," he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing. "Be a man and say it," she said, not moving, continuing to look vaguely at him, past him. He was silent. "Pussy," she rolled her eyes and went back to the suitcase. She sounded like Tashi for a moment, and Patrick wanted to die. Sweet, gentle Liana. The one who thinks eight times before saying something, sounded like Tashi. "Liana, look at me for a second. Wait a minute." He wanted to throw up. He didn’t know how to stop her anger. How to minimize the damage. How to make sure she stayed where she was. How to make sure she would let him get close to her again. "If you touch me, I'll stab you in the eye." She said with feigned indifference when she heard his steps approaching her. "Please look at me." He begged. "Liana." His voice was more authoritative, knowing she wouldn’t withstand it. That her desire to feel needed and good was usually greater than her anger. "It won't work. Not this time. Not when it comes to Tashi Duncan." She said, as if knowing in advance what his strategy would be. What he would try to do.

"Let me explain. Please." He would get on his knees if he had to. She couldn't leave this room without knowing that he loved her. That he would leave his entire life for her. As he had done once before.

"Thank God I don’t have your baby. God, what a mess would that be." She muttered to herself as she closed the suitcase. Patrick took a few steps back. "What are you talking about?" He also had tears in his eyes, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "What the hell are you talking about? Hey, look at me!" He approached her, raising his voice with every word he spoke.

"Do you really think I would have kept your baby, Patrick? As if this whole life isn’t a mistake anyway," she shook her head from side to side, saying the most venomous and painful things she could think of. "What baby?" His voice returned to being quiet. Like a child who was promised a puppy and then told he hadn't behaved well enough. "Ask Tashi." She scoffed and walked past him towards the door.

Patrick didn't stop her.

Art couldn't look at Tashi. They were supposed to go over videos of his competitor and do a short practice before today’s game, but he couldn’t look at her, and he couldn’t hide it either. "Did you tell her?" she asked after 20 minutes of awkward silences and business as usual. "Huh?" he didn’t understand. "Liana, did you tell her?" she asked more slowly. Sometimes it took Art a moment to understand. "What did I tell her?" His heart started to race. "Oh my God, Art, you saw me and Patrick yesterday. Don’t tell me you didn’t tell her." She reacted as if it was obvious. "You saw me?" he asked. "Of course I saw you. You wore green and stood out like a traffic light." She rolled her eyes. "And you still went with Patrick." He didn’t understand.

"Oh my God, Art. Just answer me, did you tell Liana or not?" She was starting to lose patience completely. "Yes..." he turned red and couldn’t look at her, "I’m sorry, I couldn’t hide it from her, Tash-" he started a monologue, hoping it wouldn’t cost him his friendship with Tashi. He had gotten used to her presence more than he was willing to admit, and she really did make him a better player. "Good, did you seal the deal?" she asked, and he blinked at her, not understanding anything anymore.

"Tashi, what?" he asked, feeling like they were having a conversation between a deaf person and a mute one, at this point. "Art, God help me, did you fuck her?" she asked directly for a change, reaching the conclusion that she couldn’t hint at anything with him. "What? No!" he was startled by her accusation. He would've jumped out of the couch if he hadn’t been more concerned about his composure in front of her.

"Why the hell not?" she asked in disbelief. "I don’t understand this conversation." He voiced his thoughts aloud. He was maroon-colored at this point. "I made it so easy for you, Arthur, what else needs to happen for you to claim what is yours?" She looked him in the eyes and saw him swallow hard.

"Liana is not mine." He said. Loser. "She’s not Patrick’s anymore. That’s for sure." She replied. Tashi really and truly didn’t understand what was holding him back. For a year she had seen him fumbling in the dark with the girl he looked at with hearts in his eyes. A year. Who doesn’t give up after a year?! Maybe someone who carries the key to her room for five years like a pathetic fool while she’s in a relationship with his best friend. But Tashi knew more than Art. Tashi saw Liana up close as a woman sees another woman. She saw the dark circles around her eyes and the despair. She saw so much despair.

And Patrick has this ability, Tashi thinks. To be the best and the worst at the same time. Like an electric current throughout the body, there are places where it feels good and places where it burns. Patrick mostly burns. And Tashi saw Liana six months ago, almost completely burnt out. Almost begging for a lifeline.

So she gave a push. She gave a little shove in hopes that everything would sort itself out. If Art had enough balls, everything would have been sorted out yesterday, but in the meantime, everyone keeps suffering and paying for his mistakes from five years ago.

"Okay," she sighed. "Let’s go back to the video and leave this until we get back from Atlanta, alright?" she asked. "But Tash-" he tried to resist. There were so many questions on the tip of his tongue. "Art. You are going to win this tournament. You are going to be the winner of this week, do you understand me?" she asked in the most authoritative and serious voice she could find. Art had no choice but to nod.

Hey, can we talk? -Patrick-

Liana -P- Hey, not sure if you saw, but I won the Atlanta Open, wish you were here. How are you? -Art- Hey girl, you haven’t answered your phone for a few days, should I be worried? -Melissa- Liana, if you don’t answer me, I’m coming to America and staying in your shitty apartment until I grow old. -M- Patrick and I broke up. -L- Do you want me to come? -M- Always. -L- I miss you. -P- Liana. we need to talk, we can’t leave things like this. -P- Just tell me you're okay. -P- You weren’t at the construction site today, can I call you? -A- I packed all your things, when can you pick them up? -L- Liana, can we talk like adults? Please. -P- Lilo, I’m begging you. -P- Okay, tomorrow at 8 PM, is that okay? -P- Leave the key in the closet outside when you’re done. -L- You won’t be at the apartment? -P- Hey, can I come over tomorrow around 8 PM? -L- Of course. Here’s the address. -A-

Liana heard a knock on the door at two in the afternoon and got annoyed. She didn’t want to see Patrick, and they had agreed that he would come to get his things at eight in the evening. Why couldn’t he just do one thing properly for once?!

“We agreed you’d come at eight, so what the fuck is this?!” she asked as she opened the door, seeing Tashi standing there. “I decided to come early,” Tashi replied sarcastically. “Can I come in?” she asked and entered without waiting for an invitation.

Liana was dressed in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. If Tashi had to guess, and she didn’t really want to, the shirt probably belonged to Patrick. Her hair was greasy, and she looked like she hadn’t slept since Tashi last saw her briefly in Atlanta, three weeks ago.

“You don’t have a couch in your living room,” Tashi said. The small space that could barely be called a living room looked empty, filled with boxes that Tashi assumed were Patrick’s, but the absence of the couch was noticeable. “I paid the neighbor $150 to get rid of it or burn it. I don’t know. Why are you here?” Liana asked, looking at her with complete disinterest.

“You and I, we’re not friends, you remember that, right?” Tashi said. “You came to my house to tell me we’re not friends? You slept with my boyfriend, I figured out we’re not friends on my own.” Liana rolled her eyes. Indifference was the only thing evident in her voice. Maybe also exhaustion. “I just remember you sitting across from me in a café, me asking if you wanted to be friends, and you saying something like ‘God no’. We were both there, right?” Tashi reminded her of their conversation when Liana had asked her to accompany her to the clinic.

“Well done, Tashi, you did a good deed for a complete stranger, and now what? You won’t rest until we all remember that you’re actually a bitch?” Liana asked, looking at her. “Look at you, how much character you’ve developed in these weeks,” Tashi replied and chuckled. “What the fuck do you want? I’m busy.” Liana said, turning her back to her. “With Self-pity?” Tashi asked. “Do you need something? Did you come to gloat? What’s the purpose of your visit? How do we finish this faster?” Liana ignored her question.

The truth was, Liana pitied herself a lot. She had ended a relationship with someone she really loved, who had hurt her so much there was nothing left. And she probably still loved him. And she probably always would. And what did it say about her if she was willing to love someone who treated her like gum stuck to the sole of his shoe? But Tashi didn’t need to know all that.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry if you got hurt.” Tashi sighed, and Liana turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re supposed to get hurt, but I’m sorry if you did,” she added quickly. “I’m not supposed to get hurt by the fact that my boyfriend of the last four years slept with someone I trusted enough to ask for help when I had no one else to ask?” Liana asked in response. Her leg started to shake uncontrollably.

“You’re not in a relationship with me, I don’t owe you anything.” Tashi shrugged. “Do you want to hear what I think, Liana?” she asked.

“No, not really.” “I think you chose wrong. I think one of them thrives when you’re with him, and one of them withers when you’re with him. You chose wrong. And now you’re dealing with your choices. Because we both know Art worships you, and when you stand next to him, he’s the best he can be. He proves to you he’s the best he can be. He’ll be the best for you because you’re there, next to him. Watching.” She paused to catch her breath but looked at Liana with a gaze that made it clear she wasn’t finished.

“Patrick, on the other hand. He’s at his best when he needs to prove to you that he deserves your attention. The moment he got it, he lost it. He lost interest. He lost the reason to prove himself. He stopped striving higher. He wilts. You think he’s draining your will to live? Just by agreeing to be his, you took away his reason to live. It’s too comfortable for him now. He doesn’t need to impress you anymore, and who is Patrick Zweig when he doesn’t need to impress Liana Levy? A shadow of the person he was. You chose wrong, and you know it.” She finished, examining Liana, who just looked at her with tear-filled doe eyes.

“Buy a couch, Liana, or better yet, leave this shithole. It smells like mold here. Art’s apartment is nice, and I think he’d be happy to have you as a roommate.” Tashi applied what looked like hand sanitizer, patted Liana’s shoulder twice, and left the apartment.

All Liana could do was sit on the floor, crying. She didn’t have a couch to hold on to for the remnants of her self-respect.

heyyy :) kinda shorter chapter but I felt like it was a needed one. also, once again, we have more Tashi 🤭 as always, talk to me, the askbox is very open <3

taglist: @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[estellan0vella]

Goth Vampire Mafia Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon and you’ve got the living room to yourself. The tattoo parlour is closed for the day, and you’re cosied up on the living room couch with a blanket draped over your legs, the first Twilight movie queued up and ready to go. The TV’s soft glow is the only light in the room as you settle in, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

Just as the movie starts, you hear little footsteps padding down the hallway. Yuji, your boyfriend Sukuna's younger brother, peeks into the living room with curious eyes.

“Whatcha watching, Y/N/N?” he asks, climbing up beside you on the couch.

“Twilight,” you reply with a smile, ruffling his hair. “Want to join?”

“Sure!” Yuji grins, snuggling up beside you.

When the scene comes where Edward stops the car with his hand to save Bella, Sukuna can't contain his disbelief as he walks into the room and sits down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Did he just stop a moving car with his hand? And no one questions this? Are all the humans in this town idiots?”

The iconic forest scene soon appears. Edward Cullen, looking as brooding as ever, says to Bella, “You’re my own personal brand of heroin.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Sukuna scoffs. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Just wait, Kuna,” you tease, “it gets better.”

The movie continues, and soon it’s the infamous spider monkey scene. Edward lifts Bella onto his back and takes off into the trees. Sukuna lets out a bark of laughter. “Spider monkey? Who the hell wrote this script?”

By the time Yuji’s eyes light up at Alice’s entrance, you can tell he’s hooked. “She’s so cool,” he whispers, watching her with rapt attention. You smile, noting his budding crush.

As the movie progresses, Sukuna's running commentary continues, providing a constant stream of humorous and critical remarks. When the scene comes where Edward reveals he’s been watching Bella sleep for months, Sukuna’s incredulity peaks.

“Why the hell is he watching her sleep? That’s creepy as fuck,” he says, shaking his head.

Yuji looks up at him, curious. “Why does he do that, Suku?”

“Because he’s a fucking weirdo,” Sukuna answers bluntly. “Only a complete creep would think that’s romantic.”

You chuckle, trying to keep your laughter quiet, and ruffle Yuji’s hair. “Just remember, Yuji, if you like a girl, don’t ever do that.”

Sukuna nods, smirking. “Exactly. Normal people don’t stalk their crushes while they sleep.”

As the movie continues, Sukuna finds more to criticize about Edward’s behaviour. During the infamous scene where Edward takes Bella to meet his family and they play baseball, Sukuna can't help but comment on Edward’s overprotectiveness.

“Look at this guy, acting all possessive. Bella can’t even hang out with his family without him hovering over her,” Sukuna says, rolling his eyes.

Yuji, still entranced by the movie, asks, “Isn’t he just trying to keep her safe?”

Sukuna snorts. “There’s a difference between keeping someone safe and treating them like they’re made of glass. Edward’s got control issues.”

When James, the villain, makes his entrance, Sukuna’s disdain is palpable. “This guy’s supposed to be a threat? What a loser.”

When the movie reaches the climax with the showdown in the ballet studio, Sukuna’s frustration with James grows. “So, this is the big plan? Lure her to a ballet studio? Real original, James.”

As James taunts Bella and the tension builds, Sukuna’s disdain is clear. “This guy talks too much. If he spent less time monologuing and more time actually doing something, maybe he’d be a real threat.”

When Edward finally arrives and the fight ensues, Sukuna critiques every move. “Look at Edward, trying to be all heroic. This fight looks like two high school kids who took one too many drama classes.”

As Edward defeats James and the scene calms, Sukuna leans back with a sigh. “That’s it? All that buildup for such a weak villain. They could have at least made the fight interesting.”

The first movie ends and you pop in New Moon. As Edward breaks up with Bella and she collapses in the forest, Sukuna throws his hands up in exasperation. “You’ve got to be kidding me. All this drama over a breakup? Get a grip, Bella.”

Yuji looks confused. “Why is she so sad, Suku?”

Sukuna sighs. “Because she thinks her world is ending because her sparkly vampire boyfriend left her. It’s ridiculous.”

You can’t help but fangirl a bit when Paul Lahote appears on screen, and Sukuna rolls his eyes every time you sigh over him. “Really, babe? This guy?”

The movie's dramatic elements give Sukuna plenty of material. During one of the many shirtless scenes, he mutters, “Why do they keep stripping every time they turn into wolves? Do they not own shirts?”

Yuji giggles. “Maybe it’s because they get too hot?”

Sukuna shakes his head. “Or maybe it’s just an excuse to show off their abs. Either way, it’s absurd.”

As Bella continues her self-destructive behaviour, Sukuna can’t help but comment. “So she’s jumping off cliffs now? What’s next, bungee jumping without a cord?”

When Bella cliff dives and Edward goes straight to the Volturi, Sukuna groans. “Oh, come on. This is so over-the-top. Just because she jumped off a cliff?”

You laugh, patting Sukuna’s arm. “He thinks she’s dead, Kuna. It’s dramatic, but it’s love.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “Love? This is obsession. There’s a difference.”

The Volturi make their appearance, and Sukuna looks genuinely baffled. “Why is there a vampire goth mafia with creepy twins? This makes no sense.”

As Jane demonstrates her power, Sukuna snickers. “Look at her, trying so hard to be scary with her little pain trick. Adorable.”

Yuji watches intently. “She’s kinda scary, though.”

Sukuna shakes his head. “Scary? Maybe if you’re a toddler. She’s just another overhyped character in this mess.”

When Bella and Alice race to save Edward, Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Of course, now we have a race against time. How cliché can you get?”

The scene where Bella runs through the crowd to stop Edward from revealing himself makes Sukuna groan. “This is straight out of a bad romance novel. Just stop already.”

When Bella saves Edward and they confront the Volturi, Sukuna is unimpressed. “So, he was willing to die because he thought she was dead? This guy needs therapy.”

As the Volturi threaten Bella, Sukuna scoffs. “Now they’re all protective over her again. Make up your mind, Edward. Do you want her in your dangerous world or not?”

The movie drags on with more angst and drama, and Sukuna’s patience wears thin. “This whole movie is just one big pity party. Can we get to something interesting?”

When Jacob confesses his feelings to Bella, Sukuna can’t help but laugh. “Oh great, now the werewolf is in love with her too. This love triangle is a disaster.”

You chuckle, leaning into Sukuna. “It’s supposed to be romantic tension.”

He smirks. “More like romantic nonsense.”

Eclipse begins, and the love triangle heats up. Sukuna can’t stop commenting on it. “This is just ridiculous. Pick one and move on, for god’s sake.”

As Bella flits between Edward and Jacob, Sukuna mutters under his breath. “This girl has no clue what she wants. It’s exhausting just watching her.”

When Victoria makes her appearance, Sukuna smirks. “Finally, someone interesting. Please, someone tear Bella to pieces and end this nonsense.”

During the training scenes with the Cullens and the wolves preparing to fight Victoria's newborn army, Sukuna shakes his head. “So, we’re supposed to believe these inexperienced newborns are a real threat? And the solution is a bunch of reluctant werewolves and a dysfunctional vampire family?”

As the heated argument between Edward and Jacob unfolds, Sukuna bursts out laughing. “Look at these two, fighting over a girl who can’t make up her mind. Pathetic. They should just leave her and become best friends. They’d probably be happier.”

When the proposal scene unfolds, Sukuna’s frustration peaks. “Now they’re getting married? This is the most dysfunctional relationship ever. They’re doomed.”

When Bella and Edward are camping in the mountains, Sukuna snorts. “So let me get this straight, they need Jacob, the human heater, to keep Bella warm? That’s some love triangle they got going on.”

Edward and Jacob’s conversation outside the tent catches Sukuna’s attention. “Look at this, they’re actually bonding over their mutual obsession with Bella. This is the weirdest bromance ever.”

When Bella attempts to kiss Jacob to stop him from leaving, Sukuna’s disdain is evident. “Seriously? She kisses him now? She’s playing them both like a fiddle. This girl is a mess.”

As the final battle approaches and tensions rise, Sukuna comments on every dramatic scene. “Oh, now they’re suddenly a well-coordinated team. Convenient.”

During the battle, Sukuna is actively rooting for Victoria and the newborns. “Come on, make this interesting. At least take out one of the main characters.”

When Victoria and Riley corner Edward and Bella, Sukuna leans forward. “Finally, some action. Let’s see if they can actually pull this off.”

As the battle intensifies, Sukuna can’t help but critique every move. “Edward’s fighting style is so pretentious. And Bella just stands there. Great strategy.”

When Seth and Edward finally defeat Riley and Victoria, Sukuna sighs dramatically. “Well, that was anticlimactic. I was expecting more from the big bad villain.”

The movie moves to the aftermath, with Jacob recovering from his injuries. Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Of course, he gets hurt protecting Bella. Typical.”

As Edward and Bella discuss their future together, Sukuna can’t hold back his sarcasm. “So, after all that, she still chooses the sparkly vampire? Shocking.”

Breaking Dawn Part One is next and the wedding scene unfolds, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Of course, it’s a big fancy wedding. Because nothing says ‘forever’ like an over-the-top ceremony.”

When Bella and Edward’s romantic escapades start, Sukuna scoffs. “Oh great, now they’re making the bed look like it’s been through a tornado. Who knew vampires had such a destructive streak?”

Yuji giggles from behind your and Sukuna's hands. “Why are they breaking everything?”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. “They’re just... having a very intense hug, kid. Don’t worry about it.”

As the honeymoon continues, Sukuna’s smirk widens. “So, they destroy an entire bed and then play chess for the rest of their honeymoon? Sounds like a blast. Who needs a beach when you can have a game of chess in a room full of broken furniture?”

When Bella starts experiencing strange symptoms and realizes she’s pregnant, Sukuna leans back, incredulous. “Oh, come on. She gets pregnant from one night with a vampire? That’s some fast-acting biology. It’s like the moment they decided to ‘get busy,’ her uterus went into overdrive.”

Yuji looks confused. “How can she be having a baby so soon?”

You ruffle his hair, trying to keep it light. “It’s just a movie, Yuji. Things happen fast.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “Fast? More like implausibly fast. I wouldn’t be surprised if she gave birth the next day”

As Bella’s pregnancy progresses and her condition worsens, Sukuna’s disbelief turns into frustration. “This is just irresponsible. Who in their right mind thinks having a vampire baby is a good idea? It’s like playing Russian roulette with your own body.”

When Bella’s back breaks during childbirth, Sukuna laughs out loud. “Well, that’s what you get for wanting a vampire baby. A back snapped like a breadstick”

Yuji winces at the scene. “Is she okay?”

You try to soothe him. “She will be, Yuji. It’s just really dramatic.”

As Jacob’s imprinting on Renesmee unfolds, Sukuna’s face contorts with disbelief. “This is so messed up. Seriously?”

He continues, incredulous. “So, let me get this straight: he’s been in love with Bella this whole time, but now he’s suddenly in love with her newborn daughter? That’s just creepy. It’s like a bad Twilight Zone episode. One minute he’s hot for Bella, and the next he’s googly-eyed over a baby. What kind of messed-up interfamily love triangle is this?”

Yuji looks puzzled. “What’s imprinting?”

Sukuna sighs, trying to find a way to explain it. “It’s like... finding your soulmate. But in this case, it’s really weird because he’s a grown man and she’s a baby. It’s like telling a toddler, ‘Hey, you’re my soulmate,’ and then waiting for her to grow up. It’s just... wrong on so many levels.”

You nod, adding, “It means he’ll always protect her and be there for her, but yeah, it’s a bit strange.”

Sukuna shakes his head. “Strange? It’s beyond strange. It’s downright disturbing. This whole imprinting thing is like a loophole in the storyline, a convenient way to make Jacob’s character relevant without actually giving him any real development.”

As the scenes shift to Bella’s transformation into a vampire, Sukuna’s tone softens slightly, though his sarcasm remains. “Well, at least she looks hot now. Can’t deny that. But the whole process? It’s still a freak show. Who knew becoming a vampire involved so much screaming and blood?”

But when Renesmee appears, he’s back to his critical self. “Why does the baby look so wrong? That’s just creepy.”

He leans closer to the screen, scrutinizing the CGI baby. “Seriously, they couldn’t find a real baby for this? It looks like a haunted doll."

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Come on, Kuna, it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” he insists. “Look at her! She’s like something out of a horror movie. I half expect her head to spin around.”

Yuji, engrossed in the movie, glances up at Sukuna. “I think she’s kinda cute.”

Sukuna smirks, shaking his head. “Kid, you need to get your eyes checked. That baby’s giving me the creeps.”

The movie continues, and every time Renesmee is on screen, Sukuna has something to say. “Why does she keep staring like that? It’s unsettling. And those eyes! They’re way too big for her head.”

He mimics the baby’s expression, wide-eyed and stiff, making you and Yuji burst into laughter.

When Jacob explains the imprinting to Bella and Edward, Sukuna is incredulous. “So let me get this straight: he’s in love with the creepy baby now? This just keeps getting weirder.”

As Renesmee ages rapidly, Sukuna keeps up his commentary. “Great, now she’s a creepy toddler. And why does she look like she’s staring into your soul? Every time she looks at the camera, I half expect her to say, ‘I see dead people.’”

You can’t help but laugh at his relentless criticism. “You’re really not letting this go, are you?”

“Nope,” he replies with a grin. “They had a chance to make a normal-looking baby, and they blew it. I’m gonna keep pointing it out.”

As the movie progresses, Renesmee continues to grow at an accelerated rate. Sukuna's eyes are glued to the screen, his critical gaze unwavering.

“Is it just me, or is she ageing faster than a vampire should be allowed to? This kid is like a living, creepy time-lapse,” Sukuna remarks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Yuji, still captivated by the movie, looks up at Sukuna. “But she’s supposed to be special, right?”

Sukuna snorts. “Special? More like a special effects nightmare. Look at her—she’s gone from baby to child in what, a week? I’ve seen horror movies with more believable ageing.”

The scene shifts to Renesmee as a child, interacting with the rest of the Cullen family. Sukuna shakes his head in disbelief. “And now she’s a kid who looks like she’s seen some things. Those eyes are still too big for her head. It’s like they didn’t even try to make her look normal.”

When Renesmee starts using her powers to show people her thoughts, Sukuna’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh great, now she’s a mind-reading horror child. Because that’s exactly what this movie needed—more creepy abilities.”

You chuckle, trying to keep your laughter under control. “You’re really on a roll tonight, Kuna.”

He smirks, leaning back on the couch. “I can’t help it, babe. This whole thing is a mess. They should have just let her be a normal baby. But no, they had to go for the uncanny valley effect.”

As the movie progresses, the scene shifts to a wintery landscape where Renesmee is shown jumping into the air to catch snowflakes. Sukuna's critical gaze narrows even further.

“Oh, great. Now she’s a creepy ballerina vampire,” he mutters. “Seriously, what’s with this kid? She’s like a supernatural circus act.”

Yuji, still captivated, looks up at Sukuna with wide eyes. “But she’s having fun, Suku! Look at her go!”

Sukuna snorts. “Having fun? She’s floating in the air like she’s part ghost. If I saw that in real life, I’d call an exorcist.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Come on, Kuna, she’s just catching snowflakes.”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “Catching snowflakes? She’s defying gravity! Look at her. No one else seems to find this odd?”

As Renesmee gracefully lands back on the ground and smiles at Bella, Sukuna sighs dramatically. “Of course, she just smiles and acts like it’s the most normal thing in the world. No big deal, just our super creepy child playing in the snow.”

Yuji giggles. “I think it’s cool! I wish I could do that.”

Sukuna ruffles Yuji’s hair. “Trust me, kid, you’re better off being normal. Less chance of creeping people out. I'd have to disown you if you started doing freaky shit like that around me and Y/N/N”

When Renesmee looks at Jacob and they share a moment, Sukuna can’t help but roll his eyes. “Oh great, more of this weird bond thing. It’s like they’re trying to make everything as uncomfortable as possible.”

You chuckle, leaning into Sukuna. “You’re really having a hard time with this, huh?”

He smirks, wrapping an arm around you. “Just calling it like I see it, babe. This whole movie is like a bad dream you can’t wake up from.”

The scene shifts to Charlie Swan, Bella’s father, visiting the Cullens. Renesmee is playing nearby, looking much older than the last time he saw her. Sukuna’s jaw drops.

“Wait, hold on,” he says, incredulous. “Does Charlie not realize his granddaughter was a baby like two months ago? How is he not questioning this?”

Yuji looks puzzled. “Maybe they told him she grows fast?”

Sukuna shakes his head. “Growing fast is one thing, but this kid’s ageing like she’s on steroids on crack. The girl's on crack steroids. How can he just accept this without freaking out?”

Charlie awkwardly interacts with Renesmee, clearly confused but not pressing the issue. Sukuna throws his hands up in exasperation. “Unbelievable. This guy is the worst cop ever. He can’t see what’s right in front of him!”

You laugh, nudging Sukuna playfully. “Maybe he’s just trying to be supportive.”

“Supportive? He’s in denial!” Sukuna retorts. “If my kid came home with a baby that turned into a pre-teen in two months, I’d be asking all kinds of questions.”

Charlie’s scene ends, and Sukuna leans back, shaking his head. “They must have him under some kind of mind control. That’s the only explanation. Or he is unbelievably stupid and definitely should lose his job"

The scene shifts to the Cullens gathering allies from various vampire clans around the world, preparing for the inevitable confrontation with the Volturi. Sukuna's expression is a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“Look at this. It’s like a vampire United Nations,” Sukuna quips, his eyes glued to the screen as the different vampire clans make their dramatic entrances.

Yuji looks up, eyes wide. “They’re all here to help?”

Sukuna snorts. “Yeah, because nothing says ‘epic battle’ like a bunch of random vampires with barely any backstory. Who are these people? They just show up and we’re supposed to care about them?”

As the Denali coven arrives, Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “So these guys are supposed to be their long-lost cousins or something? And why do they all look like they stepped out of a fashion magazine?”

The Irish coven’s introduction makes Sukuna chuckle. “Oh great, now we’ve got stereotypical Irish vampires. What’s next, a leprechaun with fangs?”

You laugh, nudging Sukuna. “Come on, Kuna, they’re just trying to show the diversity of the vampire world.”

He rolls his eyes. “Diversity? This is more like a bad casting call. And what’s with the vampire who can control the elements? Are we watching Twilight or Avatar: The Last Airbender?”

When the Amazonian vampires make their appearance, Sukuna shakes his head. “Seriously? They brought in jungle vampires? This is getting out of hand.”

As the Cullens explain their strategy to their new allies, Sukuna can’t help but comment on the absurdity. “So their grand plan is to stand around and look intimidating? Brilliant strategy. I’m sure the Volturi are shaking in their boots.”

When the Romanians arrive, Sukuna’s eyebrows shoot up again. “Oh, fantastic. Now we’ve got Transylvanian clichés. Where’s Dracula when you need him?”

Yuji giggles at Sukuna’s relentless commentary. “They’re all here to help, Suku. It’s a good thing, right?”

Sukuna ruffles Yuji’s hair, smirking. “Sure, kid. If you consider a bunch of random, underdeveloped characters showing up at the last minute a good thing.”

The scene continues with the Cullens strategizing with their allies, and Sukuna can’t help but shake his head. “This looks like a bad game of Vampire Risk. They’re all standing around like they’re about to take over the world, but half of them can barely keep a straight face.”

As the preparations for the battle continue, Sukuna’s criticism remains sharp. “They’ve got all these powerful allies, but their plan hinges on Bella’s mind-shield? That’s like putting all your money on a horse that’s never raced before.”

You chuckle, leaning into Sukuna. “It’s just a movie, Kuna. Suspend your disbelief a little.”

He grins, wrapping an arm around you. “For you, babe, maybe. But I’m still going to call out the ridiculous parts.”

As the final battle approaches and the tension builds, Sukuna’s commentary becomes more pointed. “This whole series has been building up to this moment, and I still don’t understand half of these characters. They’re like extras in a high school play.”

Yuji is heartbroken when Carlisle, Jasper and the wolves die. You hold him close, trying to comfort him. Sukuna, on the other hand, is visibly shocked by the plot twist with Alice’s vision. “Well, didn’t see that coming,” he mutters, somewhat impressed.

After the revelation that the battle was a vision, Sukuna can't help but voice his thoughts. “So, none of this is real? This whole battle is just one big ‘what if’ scenario? What a cop-out.” As the movie continues and Nahuel, the half-vampire, half-human child, makes his entrance, Sukuna’s disbelief is evident.

“Oh, look, another surprise twist,” Sukuna mutters, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Just what we needed—another hybrid kid to magically solve all their problems.”

Yuji, still recovering from the emotional rollercoaster, looks up at Sukuna. “Is he like Renesmee?”

Sukuna snorts. “Apparently. But instead of clarifying things, it just makes it more ridiculous. Now we have hybrid kids running around too. It’s like they’re trying to cover every possible supernatural angle.”

When Nahuel starts explaining his origins and how he’s been living for over a century, Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Great, now we have a 150-year-old man trapped in a teenager’s body. This just keeps getting better.”

You chuckle, nudging Sukuna playfully. “Come on, Kuna, give the guy a break.”

Sukuna smirks. “A break? This whole thing is a mess. They’re just throwing in plot twists to keep it interesting. It’s like they couldn’t figure out how to end it, so they just kept adding more characters.”

Nahuel’s story about his mother dying in childbirth catches Sukuna’s attention, but not in a positive way. “So, his mother dies giving birth to him, and he’s been wandering the world ever since? What a conveniently tragic backstory. This guy’s existence is just one big plot device.”

Yuji looks puzzled. “But doesn’t he prove that Renesmee will be okay?”

Sukuna sighs. “Sure, kid. He’s here to make everyone feel better about the creepy baby growing up too fast. It’s like they needed someone to vouch for her so the Volturi wouldn’t freak out.”

As the Cullens and their allies celebrate their victory and the end of the conflict, Sukuna’s frustration remains palpable. “So, they gather all these vampires, have this huge build-up, and then it’s all resolved because of one guy showing up and saying, ‘Hey, everything’s cool’? What a letdown.”

You laugh, resting your head on Sukuna’s shoulder. “At least it’s over, right?”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Yeah, thank god for that. But I’m still mad about how easily they wrapped everything up. It’s like the writers just wanted to finish and move on.”

The final scenes show the Cullens returning to their peaceful lives, and Sukuna can’t help but comment. “So, everything goes back to normal? No consequences, no follow-up on the Volturi? They just walk away, and everyone lives happily ever after?”

You nod, smiling. “That’s how it goes in these stories, Kuna. Just accept it.”

Sukuna smirks. “Accept it? Sure. But I’m not letting them off the hook for this weak ending. They had a chance to do something interesting, and they blew it.”

As the credits roll, Yuji’s excitement returns. “That was awesome! Can we watch it again tomorrow?”

“Maybe another day,” you laugh, ruffling his hair again. “It’s late, and you need to get to bed.”

As you all head off to bed, Sukuna wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You know, babe, those movies were terrible,” he says with a smirk, “but I had fun watching them with you.”

You smile up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I had fun too, Kuna. Thanks for sticking it out with us.”

He chuckles, leading you to your room. “Anything for you, baby. Even if it means enduring five movies of sparkly vampires and dramatic wolves.”

As you lie in bed, you hear Sukuna’s voice one last time before sleep takes you. “I still can’t believe that goth vampire mafia. And that baby...”

You fall asleep with a smile on your face, knowing that even through all his complaints, Sukuna stayed by your side, sharing every laugh and every groan.

taglist: @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1 @kalulakunundrum @ryomku

[pookietv]

number one fan | george clarke

this was requested! and i couldn't resist the end lmao so !!

george had always been supportive. he liked to consider himself his friends biggest fans, always turning up to whatever may be important to them, from arthur's tours, to his home friends graduations, he always wanted to be there and be able to show his pride in the people in his life.

so when he began dating a singer, it was to no one's surprise that he became the biggest fan out there.

your music a staple of the household, to the point where an intervention was called by arthur and chris.

"geooooorge can we not put on different music now?" chris said with a slight smile on his face as he rolled his eyes jokingly.

"you know we love y/n's music but george, this is a little excessive," arthur agreed, giggling to himself a little.

"just let this song finish! its the best one," he protested whilst cooking at the kitchen island, earning a joking groan from arthur.

"i'm convinced that just by living in this house we may know her lyrics better then she knows them," chris laughed, and george just shrugged with a mockingly innocent look.

when you first got signed by a manager, changing from original songs uploaded to youtube to a real publishing plan.

"george?" you grinned to yourself as you went into his room, having been let in by arthur, seeing him sat at his desk, seeing you and pulling his headphones off his head.

"hey, you! didn't know you were coming around today," he said, standing to press a quick kiss to your hairline, and you could barely stop yourself grinning at him like the cheshire cat.

"what's that look for?" he asked as he pulled away, quirking his head slightly as a small smile approached his face too.

"i got offered to be signed! by a real label! they actually want me to be under their label!" you practically babbled out, watching george's grin grow wider before wrapping you in a hug, practically lifting you from the ground.

"no way! that's amazing, darling," he muffled into your hair, his arms around your torso only wrapping tighter, "i'm so so so proud," he beamed, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

"thank you george," you smiled back, your cheeks glazed with red, "you've been so supportive, and i appreciate it so much,"

"so, now can i convince you to write a whole album about your biggest fan?" he teased, and you playfully pushed his chest.

"well, maybe i could write a song for arthur, i mean he was so lovely letting me open for his tour, he definitely has been a loyal fan..." you teased in return, pretending to ponder, causing george to mock pout.

"hey, hello, i am your biggest fan you muppet!"

when your first album released, and it was all george could yap about for at least a month afterwards.

when he featured on his bach and arthur's podcast? practically the first thing to leave his mouth.

"yeah, so i've not been up to too much, y/n was really busy recently so we decided now she's done and the album's released, we might try and go away somewhere - the album's out now on all streaming platforms! go listen, she's brill," he says with a cheesy grin on his face.

"what was the timer on george mentioning y/n there? under five minutes?" bach laughed, george's face going slightly red as he shrugged.

"it is a good album, in his defence," arthur laughed a little.

when he's in one of chris' videos? practically every goal he scored was backdropped by the beat change of one of your songs.

"if you miss this one, we're not letting you aux the flat for a week," chris chided with a grin, and george rolled his eyes as he placed the ball down, lining it up and kicking it in.

"see? he's the biggest fan around! the second the thought of not playing y/n's new album 24/7 is unthinkable to george," arthur laughed, before continuing, "i don't even live with you guys and i think i've heard y/n's music more times then i have actually met her in person."

going to your first big concert?

you had offered him to be backstage, but he had said no - of course he wanted to be in the front, seeing you perform like he was anyone else, he wanted to see you properly, from the floor.

"you're sure you don't wanna be backstage?" you had asked him on facetime earlier that day, when you were already at the venue for sound checks but he had assured you no.

"we're all coming in the pit, we've gotta see it like a normal concert!" he grinned down the phone, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

"you at least gonna stand at the back so you guys don't get like, mobbed or squashed or something? 'cause people might ask for photos," you said, slightly concerned for him, but he just shook his head.

"we can take photos afterwards with whoever wants one - i'm not standing at the back and barely seeing anything just cause some people may try and be rude and take photos with us whilst you're performing, that's not fair to you," he hummed slightly down the phone, "plus, chris wouldn't be able to see from the back and you know that," he laughed a little at his own joke

you cracked a small smile as you shook your head, "you're so stubborn, george, you know that?"

and when he showed up to the concert, with both of the arthurs and chris, all stood as close to the front as they could be, and before you could even notice anything else, you saw george's shit eating grin at his shirt, which he wore in a teasing sort of pride, that just said 'i fucked the singer', and as he saw your eyes roll, you could hear his laugh from the crowd.

[sequinsmile-x]

The Beginning in the End

After his gentle suggestion, it's all she can think about, a new life away from everything they'd endured. A life where she, Aaron, Jack and the tiny baby growing beneath her skin could live in relative peace.

A life where none of their monsters were waiting for them in every shadow or around every corner.

-x-

Hi friends <3

This massively, massively got away from me. I know none of us are surprised. This is based on this ask and the Instagram post series it inspired!

This one sparked my anxiety for some reason, I think because it's not AU but it also kind of is....anyway, I'd really appreciate knowing what you think!

-x-

Words: 5.4k

Warning: Pregnancy

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily huffs out a breath as they step onto their porch, her arms crossed over her chest as Aaron digs through his pocket for his keys. He smiles as he turns back to look at her, the slightly forlorn expression on her face nothing short of adorable.

“You know,” he says, placing the key in the lock and turning it, pushing their front door open before he steps towards her, his hands on her waist as he pulls her closer, “If you were anyone else, I’d think you were pouting.”

“I don’t pout,” she narrows her eyes at him as he stamps a kiss against his lips. She says, her words muffled between kisses as she wraps her arms around his shoulders. She hums as she kisses him, her fingers trailing through his hair before her hands drop to his shoulders. She smiles as she rubs the material of his shirt between her fingers, “I will miss relaxed, honeymoon you though.”

Aaron chuckles and kisses her, his hands firm against her lower back, “It had to end at some point, sweetheart.” 

It had been a week of pure bliss. Just the two of them in a villa she’d paid a little too much for in Santorini. Seven days spent celebrating their love for each other, sunbathing and barely keeping their hands off each other. They rarely had time just for themselves so they treasured it, spent every moment just being with each other. She was looking forward to seeing Jack, to seeing the team, but she would miss the time she’d had with her husband, how soft and relaxed he was in linen shirts she’d packed for him and a beard she knew he’d shave off at the earliest opportunity. 

“Shame,” she mutters, starting to step back from him, but he stops her, a smile flashing across his face as his hand slips down from her back to her thighs, his fingers skimming under the hem of her shorts as he pulls her upwards. It makes her yelp, her arms tightening around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, “Aaron,” she laughs, joy dripping from her voice, “What are you doing? What about the suitcases?” 

“I’ll get them in a minute. It’s tradition,” he says simply, adjusting his hold on her as he turns back towards their front door, “I’m supposed to carry you over the threshold.” 

She laughs and kisses his cheek, “Maybe if we were in our 20s,” she mutters, rolling her eyes when he continues forward as if she hadn’t spoken, “Fine,” she says, hiding her smile, “But if you hurt your back I don’t want to hear about it.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

She sighs contentedly as he walks them into the house, the familiar comfort of it washing over her, pushing away some of her remaining post-honeymoon blues. Aaron kisses her again as he squeezes her thighs, his fingers pressing into bruises barely covered by her denim shorts. He made no secret of the fact that he loved relaxed, honeymoon her just as much as she loved that version of him, but he was excited for the future too. Excited for the life they would continue to build together. 

“Put me down,” she giggles against his lips, unhooking her legs from around him as he settles her back down to the floor. She smiles as she pulls back from him, “You’re a silly, sentimental man sometimes,” she kisses him again, “But you’re my silly sentimental man.”

He winks at her, a spark in his smile that she knows the rest of the team would never believe existed. A part of him for her and Jack and the future children that they were already trying for that she would do anything to protect. He’d fought for it, fought to stay soft and kind after everything that happened to him and she’d done the same. 

“All yours sweetheart,” he says, catching the corner of her lips with his before he steps away, “I’ll get the suitcases.”

She nods and steps further into the house, smiling curiously as she spots a box tucked just inside the front door. Jessica had been over whilst they were gone so she must have brought it in from the porch. Emily lifts it and rolls her eyes when she sees a card on top of it, Clyde’s distinctive handwriting staring up at her. She steps into the living room and puts the box down and opens it, smiling softly when she sees half a dozen champagne glasses, a brand that she knows her friend loves embossed on the inside of the box. She sits on the couch and opens the card, raising her eyebrow as she reads it. 

Darling,

Congratulations. Pass on my regards to that husband of yours. 

Make sure you use these glasses to celebrate both the marriage and the job when you finally take me up on my offer. 

Clyde 

She shakes her head and lets the card drop to her lap as the front door closes. She smiles at Aaron as he walks into the room and joins her on the couch, “Jess is bringing Jack home after school. He’ll be excited to see us,” he says, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, tilting his head at the gift on the coffee table, “Who is that from?”

“Clyde,” she says, passing him the card, “He sends his regards.”

Aaron hums as he takes the card from her, his wry usual comment about her old boss dying on his lips as he reads it, “What does he mean when you finally take him up on his offer?” 

She suppresses a yawn, the time difference finally catching up with her now she was home, “Oh, every time he gets in touch he offers me that job again,” she shakes her head, “Apparently he’s keeping it open for me in case I change my mind.” 

It had been just over a year since she’d turned down his initial job offer. If it hadn’t been for Aaron, for the relationship that had come out of nowhere and somehow been right in front of her the whole time, she thinks she would have gone. That she would have taken the opportunity to start again, to be somewhere new where she wasn’t haunted by the versions of herself that no longer existed. She hadn’t even considered it when Clyde asked, already turning him down before he could finish. Aaron had asked her if she was sure. A failed attempt to cover his pre-emptive heartbreak painted across his face as he told her she could go if she wanted. 

She’d kissed him and told him she wasn’t staying for him, but for her. For the first time in her life, she felt happy, the good days outweighed the bad, and she was done sabotaging her own chances at the happy ending she now knew she deserved. There were moments when it was still hard, when she’d spot something out of the corner of her eye and convince herself it was Ian, but it was something she was willing to live with when she knew she had Aaron to bring her back to herself. His touch and soft, gentle words he’d whisper against her skin when she woke up scared in the middle of the night the best comfort she’d ever known. 

Aaron frowns curiously as he looks at the small card in his hands, his expression immediately melting into a smile as he looks up at his wife, her amusement at his confusion painted across her face. 

“Just how often does Clyde offer you a job?”

She shrugs, gently pulling the card from his hand and discarding it on the table, letting it fall next to the box of crystal champagne glasses “Every couple of months or so since I originally turned him down.” 

He frowns, “You never told me.”

She giggles, squeezing his hand as she rests her head on his shoulder, “You don’t exactly like him, honey. I thought it was best I didn’t mention he kept trying to poach me.” 

His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline and his mouth drops open, surprise and self-doubt curdling in his gut, making it churn as he continues, “Do you ever wish you had taken him up on it?”

Emily’s smile slips from her face at the crack in his voice and she shifts closer to him, her skin, still somehow warm and sunkissed from their honeymoon, pressing against his as she climbs into his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, her fingers running through his short hair as she pulls back, her eyes full of love as they meet his.

“I could never regret staying for this,” She says softly, her hand migrating to his cheek, her thumb against his lower lip, “If I’d been alone when he asked, if I’d still felt completely adrift…I might have. Maybe in another lifetime, it would have been right for me.” 

Her naked honesty, the way her voice is full of reflection instead of regret, is a salve on his concerns, his arms squeezing around her middle as he hauls her impossibly closer, but there was still something lingering in the back of his mind. It wasn’t doubt in her, or her love for him and Jack, but doubt in some of his own choices, how he kept making the same ones again and again, forever returning to a job that had taken so much from him, inevitably putting it first even as it felt harder and harder to do. His eyes drift over to the card again and he kisses his wife’s temple, taking a second to breathe her in before he replies. 

“How about we do it in this lifetime?” 

She smiles at him, her mouth falling open into a soundless laugh as she shakes her head, and pulls back to look at him, “You’d…you’d do that?” 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

She laughs again, swallowing thickly, “Aaron…this isn’t…we can’t just…what about Jack?”

He cups her cheeks, his smile sure and comforting as he strokes his thumb back and forth over her jawline, “There is a lot to think about, Jack’s feelings about it included,” he leans forward and kisses her, “But if you want to do this, if you want to go, we should at least talk about it.”

She bites the inside of her cheek and nods, a shaky breath escaping as she answers, her lungs full of hope. The thought that she might just be able to have everything for once, that she wouldn’t be sacrificing part of herself for the other, blooming as wide as her smile. 

“Okay,” she says, placing her hand over his on her cheek, linking their fingers together and squeezing. A physical manifestation of their love for each other, of the fact whatever they did next, they’d do it together, “We’ll talk about it.”

___

They do talk about it. And they talk about it some more. And suddenly, it's all she could think about, a new life away from everything they'd endured. A life where she, Aaron and Jack could live in relative peace. A life where none of their monsters were waiting for them in every shadow or around every corner.

In the end, it feels strangely easy. She tells Clyde that she’ll take the job, the relief that courses through her the moment she does far outweighing her irritation at his glee that she’d given in. She gets some satisfaction out of the way his smile drops off his face, his reaction clear even over the video call, when she reminds him it means Aaron will be coming with her, their dislike of each other something she found as childish as she did amusing. 

Telling the team is hard. They don’t hide that they are hurt, and confused, and she has to stop herself from apologising, Aaron’s hand tight around hers under the conference table as she explains why they are doing this. He lets her take the lead, ready to step in if anyone gets too accusatory or aggressive, and she’s grateful for it. She knows that without her, Aaron would have stayed at the BAU until the bitter end. Whether that was retirement, injury or because he simply had no other choice but to leave, and the thought of it makes her ache. That he’d stood still to allow everyone else to progress and change for the better. 

It felt like nothing short of a privilege that she’d been the one who could help him move forward, that he’d allowed her to love him like that, and she’d spend the rest of her life trying to feel anything close to worthy of it. 

At their leaving party, held in Dave’s backyard just like their wedding had been only four months previously, she turns down every drink Penelope tries to force on her, claiming she wanted to be clear-headed to travel the day after. Emily watches her friends, the family she’d found in the most unlikely of places, and it feels bittersweet. The joy of what was to come mixed with the sadness that came with leaving this all behind. 

She was used to leaving, to being the one to go, but she wasn’t used to having something that was hard to leave behind. It reminded her a little too much of Paris, of when she hadn’t had a choice. When she’d woken up dead to almost everyone she loved, the dirt from her burial still on the cuff of Aaron’s pants as he explained it all to her. She had to remind herself that this time she wasn’t losing them, that they would still be in her life and that they’d visit whenever they could. 

“You okay, sweetheart?”

She smiles when Aaron steps behind her, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her back towards him. She turns her head to kiss him, her lips soft against his as she links their hands together on her abdomen, “I’m okay.”

He kisses her cheek, pressing his hand against her belly, “Are you sure you don’t want to tell them?”

She smiles, unable to help herself, warmth spreading through her chest at the mention of the tiny baby growing beneath her skin. They’d found out she was pregnant shortly after she’d accepted the job in London and they were both delighted, their happiness muffled into each other’s skin one morning as they celebrated and tried not to wake Jack up in the next room. She was excited, another puzzle piece seemingly falling into place, but she wanted to keep it between just her and Aaron for now. Partially down to practicality. Any pregnancy she had would be high risk, due to her age and previous injuries. But also because, in a potentially selfish way, she simply wanted to keep it a secret. 

She wasn’t someone who could be easily persuaded out of anything. It was a trait that had often made people call her stubborn. Wilful. Set in her ways. But she knows if there was one thing that could talk her out of leaving it would be seeing her friend's excitement at knowing that she was having a baby. Joy that would quickly turn to sadness once they realised it meant they’d be growing their family on another continent, far away from all the pseudo aunts and uncles Jack had always had. Even without outside influence, without Penelope’s over-the-top enthusiasm or what she was sure would be backhanded compliments from her mother, Emily had her moments of doubt. Brief, fleeting, seconds that would overwhelm her whenever she thought about it too much after the stick turned pink that she was taking something away from her children by taking them away from all of this. Then she’d look at Aaron. See how much lighter he seemed since they’d decided to leave, his shoulders looser and his eyes sparkling. She’d see Jack’s excitement whenever they talked about it, genuine enthusiasm as he spoke about his new school, his new uniform, to anyone who’d listen, and she knew they were doing the right thing. 

She didn’t want to get talked out of leaving, not now she had so much more to protect, so when she suggested to Aaron that they keep the baby a secret he’d agreed, even if he did repeatedly ask her if she was sure. His smile always fond and non-judgemental as he checked, his love for her, for the life they were building, written all over his face for anyone who cared to look. 

“I’m sure,” she says, catching the corner of his lips in a kiss, “Besides, imagine how much fun we can have with it when we do tell them.” 

He chuckles, his laugh drawing attention their way from the others, and he mutters against her cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

“Come on lovebirds,” Derek yells in their direction, “You two will have plenty of time to be all over each other on your flight tomorrow.” 

Emily rolls her eyes but steps forward anyway, keeping her hand wrapped up in Aaron’s as she goes, “You know you’ll miss us, Derek.”

She’d miss it here, she’d miss the comfort of it, the sense of home that had come with the place that had taught her she could be part of a family, but she was excited for what the future held. 

___

“Your husband is in the car park.” 

She sighs as she looks up from her paperwork, her eyebrow arched as her eyes meet Clyde’s before she looks back down at her desk, “You know,” she says, turning a page in front of her, “The whole point of hiring me to run this unit was so that you didn’t have to be here all the time.” 

He chuckles, his arms crossed over his chest, “Well, it would have been that simple if I hadn’t also had to immediately try and find maternity cover for you,” he winks at her when she glares at him, “Mighty inconvenient.” 

She hums, her hand pressed against her bump as she leans back in her chair, “Oh you’ve got me,” she says, smiling as she feels her daughter shift under her palm, “I decided to have a baby the moment I moved country not only to take advantage of the local maternity leave laws, but because I knew it would piss you off.”

Cylde laughs, “Wouldn’t put it past you, darling,” his smile only gets wider as she rolls her eyes again, “Your husband is waiting for you. Go to him before I have him arrested for loitering with intent.” 

Emily stands up, her hand against her lower back as she grunts, “He’s probably brought me dinner. I told him I’d be here late,” she says, shrugging on her coat, “I’ll be back after we’ve eaten.”

“Oh no, go home,” he says, waving her off, his smile getting wider as she frowns, “He threatened me once before over your wellbeing, and that was before you were married to him and carrying his protégé. Call it… self-preservation.” 

She presses her lips together to suppress a smile and she reaches for her bag, “You know, you two need to get over this rivalry at some point. Plus,” she says as she gets to his side, sympathetically patting his shoulder, “I think we both know he could take you in a fight.” 

She laughs as she walks away from her office, purposely ignoring his protests before she turns and waves at him as she steps into the elevator. She sighs as the doors close, running her hand over her bump as she leans against the wall. She would have once argued with Clyde over going home, insisting that she was fine, but she was exhausted. Ever since she’d tipped into her third trimester she’d been tired all the time, a bone-deep exhaustion she had never known was possible, and despite wanting to prove herself in her new role, something she felt like she had to do before she took 6 months off to have her little girl, she wanted nothing more than to go home and snuggle with her husband and son.

“Let’s go see what Daddy has brought us to eat, sweet girl,” she says, scanning her ID as she walks out of the building, exchanging a smile with the security guard as she does so. 

Their car is one of the few left in the parking lot and she knocks on the window when she approaches, her smile wide when Aaron looks at her, the clunk of the doors unlocking immediately following. She pulls the door open and climbs in, grunting as she throws her bag over into the back seat. 

She sighs contentedly as she smells fried food, “Oh what did you bring me?” 

“Nice to see you too, sweetheart,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her cheek as he passes her a McDonald's bag.

“Oh I love you,” she groans, snatching the bag from him and pulling it open, shoving fries into her mouth like she hadn’t been fed in days.

“Me, or the food?” He asks, watching her with amusement flashing in his eyes as she looks up at him.

She smiles, “I can love two things,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, the taste of salt passing from her lips to his, “Hi by the way. Clyde said we should just go home.” 

“Hi,” he replies, kissing her again before he sits back, “I’ll let you and your cheeseburgers continue your love affair.” 

“Burgers?” She says excitedly, looking deeper into the bag, absentmindedly doing her seatbelt up, “You got me more than one?”

“Yes,” he replies as he turns on the engine, “But, dessert will be the fruit salad I made for you earlier.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” she says, unwrapping a burger, “But baby girl and I agree to your demands.”

He laughs and reaches out, one of his hands landing on her stomach for a moment, smiling at the feel of his little girl kicking before he places his hand back on the steering wheel, “She told you that, did she?”

Emily nods, “She lives inside of me. I just know. Where’s Jack?” 

“At Thomas’s house, his mom picked them both up from school.” 

Jack’s adjustment to moving had surprised Emily the most. She’d worried about him, half convinced she had turned into her mother because she was upheaving his life for her job. No matter how often Aaron told her it wasn’t the same thing, that this was once and Jack was excited about it, it was only when she saw her son thriving in his new school with his new friends that she was able to completely relax. He’d told her one night, half asleep as she read a bedtime story with him, that he had more friends here. That he wasn’t the kid whose mom had died anymore - just the new kid, a title that eventually faded over time. 

“We’re going to have to get her a huge gift at Christmas,” she says, taking another bite of her burger, “That woman is a saint.” 

He casts a glance at her when he stops at a traffic light, love for her blooming in his chest, the flowers of it crowding his lungs and leaving him breathless. He’d always thought she was beautiful, even back when he didn’t trust her he’d thought it. Anger he couldn’t internalise at feeling that way for another woman when his marriage was crumbling aimed at Emily when she had done nothing wrong. As he got to know her, as he got to see that her beauty was so much more than skin deep, he fell in love with her. Feelings he couldn’t name until it was too late and his hand was wrapped around hers when she was in a hospital bed, a promise that he’d bring her home pressed against her cool forehead before she was taken away. He sometimes couldn’t believe that this was his life now, that he lived with the woman he loved and his son, that he had a little girl on the way. 

It felt too good to be true and after his worst nightmares, few and far between these days, there would always be a second when he’d think he was back in his apartment in DC. Long before Emily and when Jack was still in hiding, as if everything else since had been a dream. Then Emily would be there, pulling him against her chest, her hand linked with his as she dragged it to her belly, the roundness of it, the shifting of their daughter, enough to bring him back to her. To the beautiful house they’d bought in Chelsea. To the life he would have once thought was beyond him. 

“I spoke to Dave today,” he says and she hums curiously, her focus mostly on her food, “He said he and Penelope are planning a visit. I put him off for now, said something about Jack’s school.” 

She smiles gratefully at him, “Thanks, honey,” she says, reaching into the bag for more food, “I know you don’t fully understand it, but once she’s here we’ll tell them,” her smile gets wider, “It will be much harder to hide a baby than a pregnancy.” 

She’d decided, after a lot of back and forth, to keep her entire pregnancy a secret from the team. She couldn’t even fully explain why, aware that her friends weren’t people that her daughter needed protection from, but she wanted to fully settle into her new life before she let anyone else into it. 

“I don’t have to understand, sweetheart,” he assures her, “I’m always happy to take your lead.” 

She reaches for his hand and squeezes it, “You, my love, are very close to getting lucky tonight.” 

He chuckles, “Oh really?”

She hums, “Between the burgers and all the sweet shit you’ve been saying, you’re getting there.” 

“Well,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at her, a spark in his smile that she’d never seen before they moved, something that had made all the upheaval worth it all by itself, “I’m always lucky when I’m with you.”

She laughs loudly, rubbing her stomach when she feels a corresponding kick, a chastisement from within that she needs to calm down, “Okay, now you’re definitely getting lucky,” she says, checking her watch, “What time is Thomas’s mum dropping Jack home?” 

“She isn’t,” he says, “It’s a sleepover.” 

Emily beams at him, “Then let's get going.”

___

She huffs as she makes it up the porch steps, leaning against the stone wall as she tries to get her breath back, “Remember when I used to be able to walk up the stairs?” 

Aaron smiles and leans in to kiss her forehead, “You did just have a baby sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll be taking them two at a time again soon,” he says, kissing her forehead again before he pulls away. He gently lowers the car seat onto the ground so he can dig his keys out of his pocket and he smiles when his daughter doesn’t wake up, “You excited be home, Lucy?” 

Emily leans down, barely suppressing a wince as she does so, and she adjusts the blanket over the little girl, “Jack is so excited to see you when he gets home from school, sweet girl,” she says as she stands up straight and looks up at her husband, “We should get her inside, it’s cold.” 

He unlocks the door and stops her from lifting the car seat, his smile soft as he picks it up instead, “It’s tradition that I carry my girls over the threshold.” 

She playfully shakes her head at him but lets it go, following him into their house and closing the door behind them, crowding him from behind to look at her baby, never tiring of seeing her face, “Daddy is a sap, Lucy. But you get used to it.” 

Aaron sets the car seat down and this time Lucy wakes up, her face screwed up as she starts to cry. Emily immediately unbuckles her and lifts her into her arms, shushing the newborn as she rests her against her chest. 

“Do you need anything?” Aaron asks and Emily shakes her head, slowly walking towards the couch. 

“No, we’re okay,” she says, lowering herself down, holding Lucy securely against her, her lips against the baby’s dark hair, “Right baby? We’re okay.” 

Aaron joins them, unable to bear being too far away from either of them. It had felt like he’d left half his heart at the hospital the night before when he’d brought Jack home, Emily’s insistence that she’d been fine still ringing in his ears as he settled into their empty bed. 

“I can’t believe she’s finally here,” Aaron says, running his knuckles down Lucy’s soft cheek, “It’s strange to think we knew about her when we left DC,” he wraps his arm around Emily’s shoulders and gently pulls her closer.

“I know,” she says, tilting her head up to look at him, “Feels like no time at all and a lifetime all at once.” 

He nods and kisses the side of her head, his fingers drawing aimless patterns on her arm, “Do you ever regret it? Moving here and starting again?”

She shakes her head, and looks back at her little girl. Lucy was less than two days old, untouched by anything other than love and joy and Emily would do anything she could to make that last as long as possible. She knows she could have continued to be happy in DC, but she isn’t sure that she could be this happy, and she wouldn’t give it up for anything. 

“No,” she says, “Not for a second.” 

“Me neither,” he replies, resting his cheek on the top of her head, “So, have you figured out how we’re going to tell everyone about this little one yet?” 

“You know that photo you took in the hospital that you love?” She asks, slowly trailing off. 

Her wide smile tells him everything he needs to know.

___

Dave is making coffee when he hears Penelope scream.

It makes him jump, ageing him by about 10 years as she runs into the bullpen, seemingly unaware of the reaction she had caused, ignoring all the agents around her with their guns raised as she runs towards the team with her phone in the air. 

“Have you seen this?” She exclaims, “I can’t believe-”

“Pen, what’s going on?” Derek asks, his fingers twitching over his gun, “You screamed like you were being attacked.” 

She scoffs, “Oh I wish,” she grumbles, again ignoring as everyone around her groans and reholsters their guns, “Look.” 

She shoves her phone into Derek’s hand and his eyebrows shoot up his head, “Oh..what the fu-”

“What is it?” Dave asks, exchanging a look with JJ before they stand on either side of him to look at the screen, disbelieving laughs leaving them as they shake their heads, “Well, I’ll be damned.”

On the screen was a picture of Emily in a hospital bed with a wide and tired smile on her face and a tiny baby in her arms. The photo was accompanied by a one-line caption.

We’ve been keeping a little secret…

“Did they just…surprise announce a baby?” JJ asks, grabbing the phone to look at it a little closer.

“I believe the term is ‘hard launch’ in the vernacular,” Spencer said, frowning as he looks at the picture, “They left 30 weeks ago.” 

Derek scoffs, “Our friends just announced they had a baby out of nowhere and that’s what you’re stuck on boy genius?”

Spencer sighs, “The average pregnancy is 40 weeks, and seeing as the baby Emily is holding doesn’t look premature…”

Dave chuckles and shakes his head, “They knew she was pregnant when they left.” 

They fall into silence, happiness for their friends mixed in with confusion, the shock of the early morning announcement, settling over them. 

“Oh I am going to kill Emily Prentiss,” Penelope says eventually, her eyes shining with happy tears, “Right after I hug her and meet that gorgeous baby.” 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @rawr-jess , @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @itsmytimetoodream , @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!