#i forget i have things in my inbox help..

[vbecker10]

Bucky's Favorite Person

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N - not dating... yet?)

Summary: Bucky dislikes how the team is taking advantage of you while your bosses are out and decides to take matters into his own hands to help you relax.

A/N: I'm supposed to be working on a lot of other things but my brain decided to do this instead... I've been kicking this idea around for a while and it won't leave me alone so I need to write it just to get it out of. I hope you all like it ❤️

Sitting at the end of the oval table in the conference room, you glance anxiously at your watch. If this meeting ends on time, I should have exactly fifteen minutes before my next one. I think that'll be enough time to head upstairs and make another cup of coffee. Your leg bounces under the desk restlessly while you listen to Agent Hill wrap up the meeting.

"Remember, if you need to order any new tech, equipment or weaponry, Y/N will be able to help," she says and you force a smile as you close your laptop.

Yay me, you think sarcastically when all of the Avengers look in your direction briefly before getting up.

You're not supposed to be the go-to person for requests of this type but for the last two weeks, you have been running the Supply Chain Subsection of the Logistics Division for SHIELD. Your manager is on maternity leave for the next few months and as luck would have it, the day after she left the section director was called away for jury duty. The decision was then made to place the most senior analyst in charge of the supply chain for the foreseeable future and that just so happened to be you.

You sigh deeply as you skim through the emails on your phone, nearly a dozen new requests have been submitted since you checked this morning. I should just deny all of them at once and close my inbox, you think when you begin to see duplicate forms and requests you've already refused to approve this week. You know you can't though. As acting head of supply chain, you need to formally respond to each with a detailed explanation of why it was denied. With your head down and your attention still on your phone, you enter the kitchen and walk straight to your favorite appliance in the Tower.

You let out a surprised yelp as you walk directly into what feels like a very muscular wall, causing you to drop your phone but thankfully not your laptop. "Oh crap, I'm really sorry," you apologize quickly when you realize you've bumped into a super soldier and not an immovable object. Taking a step back, you watch Bucky's metal fingers wrap gently around your phone before you even think to bend down and get it yourself.

"It's okay," he says when his eyes meet yours, your stress melting quickly when he smiles.

"Thanks," you can't stop the nervous giggle that escapes you when his vibranium hand brushes against your warm skin when you take your phone back. Between the unbroken eye contact and his unbearably cute smile, you briefly forget why you came into the kitchen in the first place. It's not until he talks again that you remember your mission to get coffee.

"Long day?" he asks with a lighthearted chuckle.

"Very long," you answer, walking past him towards the coffee maker.

Bucky walks away, taking a seat at the island with an open book and a drink from the fridge but you focus on the task at hand. You open the drawer that holds the coffee pods and quickly select your usual, happy to see there are plenty to get you through the rest of the week. Before you can put the pod in the machine, a familiar voice causes you to turn around.

"It's a little better now that you saw me though right?" Bucky jokes from behind you.

You smile and answer him in a sarcastic tone, "Of course, because you're my favorite person." You keep up your long standing joke with your crush, hoping he can't tell you're being honest or that just hearing him laugh made your day ten times better.

"Hey Y/N, the request Peter and I submitted for new lab equipment got denied," Bruce complains. "Again. It's like the third time. Can you see what's going on?"

"Sure, have him send in another one and I'll see what I can do," you offer even though you are the one who keeps refusing to sign off on it when the form crosses your desk. The new equipment he is asking for is almost twice his department's budget for the quarter, there's no way my bosses would ever approve it if they were here, you think. I'm pretty sure that's why he waited until they were out to request it in the first place. This also confirms my theory that no one reads the rejection emails I send cause I already told him why I denied it.

"Great, thanks," he smiles as he leaves. "You're the best."

"Yep," you mumble and turn back to the coffee maker, pushing the button but nothing happens.

You groan and push it again as you begin to get frustrated when Bucky says, "You didn't put the coffee in."

A blush spreads across your cheeks at the realization that he's watching you struggle from the island instead of reading. "Right, thanks," you look at him briefly over your shoulder to see him smiling then open the top to add the coffee. "That's why you're my favorite, always keeping an eye on me," you joke as you push the button for a third time then look up when someone calls your name from the doorway.

"Sorry to bother you here but I know you have a ton of meetings this afternoon," your intern bites her lip anxiously, holding her tablet tightly to her chest.

"It's fine," you offer her a smile knowing she's probably just as stressed as you are since her first day was also your managers last day. "What do you need?"

She let's out a breath of relief then walks closer to you quickly. "I have a question about this form Thor sent, he marked it urgent but I don't know why. Would you be able to help me?"

"Of course," you take the tablet from her and read it over quickly, shaking your head then you give it back to her. "Forward this to me and I'll take care of it."

"Thanks!" she smiles and types on the tablet while exiting the kitchen.

You can't help but look towards the island and notice Bucky's eyes on you instead of his book. "It's the second time this week Thor has ordered pop tarts and claimed they were necessary equipment for a mission," you explain, shaking your head lightly.

He chuckles, "If you've been around Thor when he's hungry you know they absolutely are."

"He's still not getting them," you laugh then pick up your coffee mug and take a sip. Scrunching your nose, you set the mug down and open the drawer to find the sugar you forgot to add.

"Hey, just who I was looking for," the newest member of the Avengers says as he walks over to you.

"Hi Scott," you try not to seem annoyed by yet another interruption during your very short break. "What can I do for you?" You stir your coffee after adding the sugar, blowing on it lightly before taking a sip and setting it back down.

"I tried filling out that form to request a new suit but I can't figure it how to submit it," he shrugs. "All the little code boxes turn red but I don't know where to get any of that information. Clint said to just send it to you and you'd fill it out for me."

You force yourself not to roll your eyes then tell him, "I'm really not supposed to fill out the request forms for you guys. That kind of defeats the purpose." He frowns as you begin to explain the reasoning behind the process but your phone beeps, alerting you that your next meeting is starting in five minutes. "Just send it over and I'll take a look. I gotta go."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he calls after you as you leave quickly and head down the hall.

It's not until you push the button for the elevator that you realize you're holding your laptop in one hand and your phone in your other hand. "Crap," you mumble when the doors open, knowing you don't have enough time to go back for your coffee.

Staring at your computer screen, you pinch the bridge of your nose when you hear a knock on the door. Oh come on, it's almost 5. Can't I get out of here on time just once, you wonder as you tell the mystery person to come in.

"Hey Y/N," Bucky's friendly voice fills your office and you relax for a moment until you see he's holding two coffee mugs.

"Hi," you sink into your chair a little as he comes closer to your desk. "What do you need help with?"

"Nothing," he answers, setting one cup down in front of you.

"Come on Bucky, you only bring me things when you need something," you slide the mug closer while he sits across from you.

"Oh, I didn't realize that," he responds a little hesitantly.

"Don't worry about it, it's why you're my favorite person here," you say with your typical sarcastic tone and the smile reappears on Bucky's face. "But it's only cause you bring me snacks when you have questions," you remind him playfully.

Last week he came to your office with a strawberry donut, telling you they were leftover from a morning briefing. While in your office, he just so happened to mention that he needed a replacement part for his bike and couldn't figure out how to fill out the forms. The super soldier has brought you cookies, coffee, pastries and a few other treats over the last couple of months and it's where you're joke about him being your favorite began. You truthfully never mind when Bucky has questions or issues, even if he didn't bring you a little treat in return for your help. He is the only person you work with who seems to value your time and apologizes for not being able to keep up with the newer systems.

"Well I don't have any questions this time I promise. I just dropped by to make sure you got your coffee fix," he explains and you hide your widening smile behind your mug. "I know it's late but every time I checked, you were in a meeting."

Taking a sip, you sigh happily when you realize he made it exactly the way you like it. "This is perfect, thanks Bucky," you smile and he grins proudly. A loud knock on your door pulls your attention away from the super soldier and you miss how quickly his smile fades. "Come in," you call hoping whoever it is doesn't need anything important.

"Hey Y/N, oh... and Bucky," Tony greets you both as he walks in.

You take another sip of your coffee, not wanting it to get cold since Bucky went through the trouble of hand delivering it to you. "Hi, what's up Tony?"

"I just sent in a handful of requests for some tech upgrades and your intern said you aren't going to get to them until tomorrow," he says in a disappointed tone.

"Oh yeah," you agree with your intern's response to him. "You sent..." you turn to open a few windows on your screen, "...twelve requests. A little more than a handful, it's gonna take me a while to go through all of them."

"I really need an answer on them tonight," Tony stands right behind Bucky who is holding his mug tightly in his metal hand.

"Tonight?" you check the clock on your desktop and sigh then look back at him. "Sure, yeah I guess I could work late again-"

"You've worked late every night for the last two weeks," Bucky interrupts your response. While you wonder if you complained to him about that and forgot he adds, "Whatever you need can wait until tomorrow."

"It'll only take a few hours and it's not like she doesn't get paid overtime," Tony counters and instead of Bucky letting you agree like you were going to do, he stands up to face Tony.

"I'm taking Y/N to dinner. She can deny whatever ridiculous requests for equipment you don't need in the morning because we both know you and everyone else keeps asking for things her bosses would never approve of," his words take you by complete surprise but thankfully it doesn't seem like he's expecting a response from either of you. "Grab your coat," he turns to you with that cute smile you can't get enough of and you nod, closing your laptop as you blush.

"I- uh... yeah, tomorrow is fine," Tony takes a step towards the door but Bucky's already forgotten he's in your office.

"So, where would you like to go?" he asks and you barely notice the door closing when he moves next to you behind your desk.

Giggling at his sudden closeness, you look up at him, "Honestly, I'm just excited to eat a meal that's not at my desk. You can pick since it was your idea to go out for a date." Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you shake your head, "Dinner, I mean dinner, sorry."

He smiles and cups your cheek gently with his metal fingers, "It's a date Y/N and don't worry, I think I know just where I want to take you."

"Oh really?" you ask, trying to sound calmer than you really are when his other hand settles on your lower back and he pulls you closer.

"Yep," he leans closer to you and just when you think he's going to kiss you he pulls back with a smirk, "But it's a secret. Come on, if we stay here any longer someone else might have a question for you."

You agree quickly and giggle when he takes your hand and leads you out of your office. While you wait for the elevator, Bucky let's go of your hand to wrap his arm around you and pull you closer. Smiling, you look up at him and joke, "Is this cause I said you were my favorite person?"

He chuckles, "It's because you're my favorite person."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did ❤️❤️ Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[revelboo]

I send this upon you, to cash in at any time:

💣

Inbox Nuke. So you may close and do another inbox wipe should you so choose. No request or anything.

🤣 at this point, it’s morbid curiosity to see how bad it can get. I wish the inbox had a search feature, because it would definitely make my life easier. 🔞 🌶️

Cybertronian Relationship/Intimacy Headcanons

Let those Cybertronians make noises, delve into details and sensations, into the fact that they’re not human. They act human enough, their expressions so like our own, that they lull you into feeling comfortable and it’s easy to forget. The first time they growl when you’re touching them and it’s a vocalization underlaid with the rev of their engine. Hearing them rumbling with the soft click of their fan cycling on. Trying to climb in their lap and digging a knee into mesh inside a seam, both of you startling at the unexpected blare of their horn. A seeker getting too warm during and their turbines kicking on with a whine, if you have longer hair you look like a very small, benign tornado got you afterward.

The first time Ratchet, Red Alert, or Prowl get head, their lights and sirens go off. They’re mortified and you’re laughing too hard to keep going. The bots getting too warm during sex. Having to stop in the middle to hit the washracks and cool off because they’re not burning you, but your skin is flushed red from the contact and it’s uncomfortable. Trying to get some space from your bot after sex because they’re too hot and you’re sweating only to get dragged back into them because they want to cuddle. It’s like getting spooned by a space heater.

Pressure lines on your skin from the edges and seams of their plating when you lay on them. So many bruises on your hips and thighs. The ambient thrum of their spark sinking into you, getting so used to it that you can’t sleep without it. The random revs, whirs, and clicks of noise their internal systems make all the time becoming white noise after a while. The heat and breathless, electricity of their spark when you run your fingers through it. Feeling it pull at you, teasing yourself and them with every touch, bombarded with bits of them, emotions and memories sinking into you in little prickles until you want to drown yourself in it. In them. Wanting to lose yourself to them completely and feel them cradling you in warmth knowing you’re safe. Addicted to that sensation of being seen and accepted.

When they slip up and start murmuring sweet nothings in their own language. Confessing the things they’re too nervous to just say to you. The cultural misunderstandings. Innocent things to one partner confusing the other. Sharing a meal an act of intimacy for Cybertronians. Energon so scare that the act of giving their fuel or ration to another becomes an act of love. Giving up fuel that was hard to come by to make sure their partner had enough even if they go without. Driven to feed you because they need to take care of you, to prove you matter to them.

Elaborate or simple conjunx gifts made from bits of themselves to adorn you. Mostly made by themself, but sometimes they might ask for help for complicated designs beyond their skill level. A physical show of their commitment that should be given before bonding but might even be given before intimacy. If it’s not explained to you, it’s just a pretty bit of metal in your bot’s colors. And you can’t understand why your partner becomes irritated if you don’t wear it at all times, but the mech might be too embarrassed to explain why it’s not just jewelry. They also might just pinch the clasp closed to prevent you from removing it altogether to avoid explaining.

The shockingly, humbling intimacy of you riding in their alt mode. Of having someone inside them, touching parts of them that have never been touched. The reassuring warmth and barely there weight of you tucked inside them trusting yourself to them. Not understanding how big a deal it is, but the bot is losing it if you actually fall asleep inside them on a long ride, curling up in their seat. Trusting them completely.

Unconsciously pulsing or cycling their biolights for you trying so hard to telegraph what they want without just saying it. Almost coming undone at the feel of soft, human fingers tracing their biolights because they’re pretty and not understanding that you’re flirting back now. Human hands on wings, chevrons, and antenna. Just lazily exploring without realizing those are all so sensitive, loaded with sensory arrays and you might as well be caressing their modesty panel. Warm mouths on neck cables and mesh, biting softly, those blunt nails dipping into mesh between seams while your partner’s venting raggedly.

Being reluctant to pull out after, curling themself around you, your head tucked under their chin. Wanting more, wanting everything and unsure how to just ask instead of taking. Worrying in the quiet after if the differences between you both are insurmountable. If there’s no way to overcome them in the long run. Servos toying with soft hands, lazily playing with your fingers while you drowse against them. Not recharging even as your breathing evens out with sleep, kept up by their own worries. Knowing they’re not safe, that being with them when they’re actively at war puts you in danger and that the kind thing would be to let you go. And unable to, needing your warmth to fill out the empty places hollowed out by a millennia of fighting and death. Wanting to feel something real. Something that isn’t hate, anger, or fear. Wanting to be allowed this.

[ddejavvu]

Excuse Me, Barmaid - Hiccup Haddock x Reader (Part 2) | SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Berk is a small island with a small populace. Everybody knows everybody, and everybody especially knows the son of the Chief. When you’re thrown into the mix, arriving alone on a ship from an island they’ve never heard of before, you’re the talk of the village. It, of course, doesn’t help that you’re now roommates with the aforementioned son of the Chief. Stoick’s hospitality is welcome, but how will you survive living amongst the Chief of Berk and his inquisitive son, all while keeping your secrets close to your chest?

Contents/Warnings: afab!fem!reader, mentions of sex, runaway!reader, non-canon timeline (no valka yet/stoick is alive but hiccup has dragonscale armor + trader johann hasn't... y'know...), more to be added as chapters are posted

WC: 7.6K / navigation / inbox / ddejavvu's summer of series

A/N: thank you for the love on part one! i'm massively inspired to write this series right now so I really appreciate that you guys are loving it and eager for more. I hope you like this part as much as the first! More is definitely on its way <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Hiccup’s journal is a tattered, impressive thing. It contains pages upon pages of sketches, blueprints for Toothless’s prosthetic tail fin- the story of which you’ve been filled in on, as well as Hiccup's metal counterpart - and doodles here and there of his green-eyed best friend. They bear a striking resemblance to the dragon currently stretched out on the forest floor to place his head in your lap, and his warm breath puffs over your stomach, seeping through your threadbare tunic and heating your skin.

You may be in shock.

You’d have assumed it would be harder to assimilate to an island full of dragons, not even ones that breathe fire and snap their great heavy jaws at you, but ones that blink up at you, pupils wide and teeth sucked into their gums.

But he’s done such a good job of acting like a cat that you almost forget he isn’t one, and his wings take you by surprise when he curls one over his exposed belly, protecting it from the ticklish grass of the cove.

“He really likes you.” Hiccup smiles, “I suppose that’s another reason I’m trying to help you. I trust his judgement.”

“He’s- sweet.” You marvel, “He’s twenty-five feet long, he’s got to weigh a thousand pounds, and he’s… sweet.”

“Legends about dragons are wrong.” Hiccup states, slipping his hand beneath Toothless’s wing to rub over his belly, round with fish, “You won’t need to fight them unless you try to. They’re gentle creatures.”

Toothless demonstrates this by getting so delighted that his belly is being rubbed that he whaps Hiccup upside the head with his red tail fin.

“Ow! Okay, except for that.” Hiccup yelps, scrubbing a hand over the back of his head, “You’ve really gotta stop swinging that thing around, bud. You’re gonna knock me out one day.”

Toothless raises his head from your lap to chatter back at Hiccup, and though neither of you understand what he’s saying, you certainly understand how he’s saying it.

“He has tone,” You laugh, “He’s- he’s arguing with you!”

“Yes, he is,” Hiccup drawls, “He does it all the time.”

“Incredible.” You note, and Toothless purrs contentedly, pressing his face back into your belly.

You gently rake your nails over the smooth scales on Toothless’s chin as Hiccup turns back a page of his journal, “Okay, so, we’re both familiar with the plan?”

“Stay out of the way, wait until the mead hall is empty, scrub like my life depends on it, and then in the morning your friends divebomb my boat?”

“You forgot be polite.” Hiccup reminds you, “I know my dad can be… brash, but that’s because he feels like you’re being brash. You might have to do some ass-kissing.”

You wish you could act indignant about it. But you are being stubborn, you are hiding the truth, and you’re going to for as long as you can get away with. So you nod, losing yourself in the pattern of Toothless’s scales, “Right. Ass-kissing.”

“It’s starting to get dark.” Hiccup notes, looking at the pinkening sky, “Berk doesn’t get much sun. We should head back before its hard to see.”

“Right. We’re flying.” You remember, as Toothless gets to his feet and shakes himself off, “I’m still getting used to that. Do you fly everywhere?”

“Almost everywhere,” Hiccup nods, reaching for his helmet on instinct and realizing that he’d left it in the great hall earlier, “I’ll walk around the village- to the forge, or to the great hall or whatever, but anywhere more than that and Toothless likes to stretch his wings.”

The large dragon crows in agreement, wings already spread to their full span. It makes him more intimidating, but you take Hiccup’s helping hand and mount him without much hesitation.

Taking off is easier this time, because now you know he’ll be gentle. It’s not really anything you’ve ever thought to prepare for- handling dragons, so you’re adapting as best you can amidst all of the other crises you’re going through. Toothless is a good test subject, and you’re sure Hiccup knows that.

Landing reveals that apparently it’s feeding time for the dragons, and Toothless nudges his snout into Hiccup’s back, crooning hopefully as the other dragons swarm the feeding troughs.

“Go ahead, bud. We’ll be okay.” Hiccup ruffles his hand over Toothless’s nose, nudging him towards the fish being snapped up by the mouthful. The dragon bounds away excitedly, and sticks his nose in beside a dusty blue colored dragon with a yellow spiked tail. They gorge on food, stuffing their mouths and shoveling mounds of fish into their hungry bellies.

“Hiccup!” A woman’s voice calls, and you turn to see a blonde viking rushing over. She’s got furs on her shoulders and around her ankles, and her hair is intricately braided over her shoulder, “Hiccup, I heard what happened.”

“I’m sure you heard something happened,” Hiccup grimaces, turning towards her, “But I’m willing to bet everyone blew it a little out of proportion.”

“You’re our overnight guest?” She guesses, her eyes narrowed like Stoick’s, and you wonder if she’s heard from him, or his friend, “The one that won’t answer any questions?”

“I’m Y/N- That’s me.” You nod politely, “I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m only restocking my rations.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what they’ve all said.” She warns, “Everyone’s curious, y’know. It’d probably be easier just to tell us the truth, instead of whatever everyone else will come up with.”

“I’ll take my chances.” You let your weight rest on one leg, your hip jutted out defiantly, “But thanks for looking out for me…?”

“Astrid.” Her mouth forms a tight line, then she nods to the dragon beside Toothless, “That’s Stormfly, my nadder. Stoick wants us to keep an eye on you, too.”

“Toothless and I can handle it,” Hiccup reaches for her placatingly, but she rounds on him.

“He meant for us to keep an eye on you. The three of you, you, Toothless, and Y/N.”

“I don’t need babysitting.” Hiccup grumbles, sounding like someone who does, very much, need babysitting.

“Well, you’re just lucky Stormfly can’t leave her clutch for more than a meal this soon after hatching,” Astrid sighs, “I told Stoick I couldn’t do it. But I swear,” She leans towards you, poking an accusatory finger at your chest, “If I hear even a whisper that something’s going on with you, she’ll shoot every single one of those spikes into your gut, you got it?”

Astrid points at the nadder’s tail, and your arms cover your vulnerable torso instinctually.

“Alright,” Hiccup laughs nervously, pulling Astrid’s shoulder back so that he puts space between you two, “She already thinks we’re a little hostile to outsiders, let’s not make it worse. Toothless and I can handle it! He’s a night fury! And I’m Hiccup! And she won’t do anything, anyways. She promised.”

Astrid looks at Hiccup like wearing a helmet to protect his brain is a waste of time.

“Oh, she promised! Like Heather promised to-”

“Heather is different!” Hiccup insists, and the two devolve into squabbling that their dragons have to separate. You stand uselessly while the two bicker over each other, and Toothless nudges the dragon beside him with irritation clear in his narrowed eyes. Apparently, dinnertime is over.

They move as one, creeping up behind their riders and plucking them apart like mother cats scruffing kittens. Toothless drags Hiccup five meters backwards, and Stormfly ends up parking Astrid beside you, noticing you for the first time. She drops her rider into the grass in favor of examining you with one of her massive, yellow eyes, and you take a half-step backwards in fright before Hiccup can shout that you’re okay.

“She’s friendly!” He assures you, and to his credit, the dragon does nothing but stare, tilting her massive head towards you while keeping it sideways, “She can’t see in front of her, she’s just checking you out from the side.”

“You’re afraid of dragons.” Astrid notes, almost haughtily from where she’s picked herself up and dusted herself off, “Are you a trapper?”

“She’s not a trapper,” Hiccup scoffs, reaching out to scrub a hand over Stormfly’s nose and hopefully deter her from moving any further into your personal space, “She’s never even seen a dragon before.”

Astrid’s brow creases only further at that, “Never? What island did you come from, anyways?”

“Remember, I don’t answer questions?” You raise a brow at her, but then you remember the part of Hiccup’s plan where you’re supposed to kiss ass, “I- It’s just private, okay? It’s all very dramatic and I wouldn’t want to bore anyone with the details.”

Astrid’s studying you much like Stormfly had, but her arms are crossed in front of her chest, unimpressed.

“Well vikings are fond of storytelling,” She muses, and Stormfly has grown bored of Hiccup itching at her scaly snout, now huffing and puffing at your arm, “Maybe you could regale us with the tale around the dinner table tonight.”

“Astrid.” Hiccup snaps, his voice taut, “Lay off.”

Stormfly snorts, and you choose to ignore the dragon snot now adorning your tunic, because you have bigger things to worry about. The dragon knocks her great head into your side so roughly that you tip over, and you yelp as you hit the grassy ground, the dragon following your descent.

Stormfly barely misses clipping your chin with her horn with the way she huffs into your stomach, dragging her snout up and over you as her two giant legs move on either side of you. All at once there’s a very large dragon on top of you, and she tucks your flailing limbs into the space between her legs and tail with her chin, closing you in.

Your thigh is by your cheek, and your other leg is bent awkwardly away from it, your tendons burning as they strain to stretch and not snap. Your head is cushioned by a scaly dragon foot, and you barely have time to get your bearings before light spills into your eyes again, and Astrid is shoving Stormfly’s giant head out from between her feet.

“Sorry!” Hiccup calls, his voice muffled until one of your ears becomes uncovered, “She has a habit of collecting people she likes. You can take it as a compliment,” Hiccup offers a hand to haul you out from beneath the dragon that Astrid is persistently shoving backwards over the grass so that you can untangle your limbs, “But I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

“She frequently sits on people?” You ask, brushing loose grass from your clothes and stumbling warily away from the two-legged dragon currently squawking at her rider.

“That’s how Nadders protect their young,” Astrid glares sideways at you, like it’s your fault that her dragon had decided you were baby-shaped and tried blocking off your airways, “She’s just very friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” Hiccup reasons, “It’s a good sign that the dragons are liking you so far. That means we’ll have less problems to deal with in getting you to stay.”

“Stay?” Astrid raises a brow, her arms crossed in front of her chest, “The Chief said she could be here for one night.”

“I know that,” Hiccup hedges, grimacing at his slip-up, “I just mean- well, y’know, if she does a really good job at scrubbing the mead hall, maybe we’ll want to keep her around.”

“She’s leaving tomorrow.” Astrid glares first at Hiccup, then at you, “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” You lie, standing tall with your hands clasped primly behind your back, “No trouble.”

“We’re watching you,” She vows, and Stormfly emphasizes her rider’s point by staring at you sideways again out of one great big eye, “I swear, any suspicion and I’ll fling you out into the sea myself. Stormfly is very good at ditching people in the ocean.”

Despite her threats being empty, just for show, your stomach twists and you edge a step away from the dragon, to Astrid’s satisfaction.

“Yes, and Barf and Belch are good at blowing houses up,” Hiccup drawls, “And Hookfang is good at threatening to swallow Snotlout, and so on and so forth. They’re all capable of dangerous things, but they’re also capable,” He smiles at you, his eyes bright as Toothless burrows beneath his arm and against his side, "-of loyalty. Absolutely unfailing loyalty, at that. If you're kind to us, trust that you’ll be safe here.” He casts a backwards glance at Astrid, “Even if you’re only planning on staying one night.”

Toothless croaks happily at you, and when he carefully steps forwards, considerate enough to take slow steps in case he spooks you, you let him butt his head up beneath your palm for a scratch against his jaw.

“See? You’re a natural.” Hiccup grins, and you’re fairly certain that’s because your cousin had a dog while you were growing up, and they seem to be similar creatures, but you’re not going to talk back any more than you already have. Hiccup seems to be the only one on Berk that’s on your side, so you heave a silent, heavy sigh instead of opening your mouth again.

“It’s dinner time,” Astrid notes, watching the sun sink lower into the sky, as well as the swarm of Berkians headed for the doors to the great hall, “Will you be joining us, or are you late for another disappearing act?”

“Oh, don’t mind her.” Hiccup decides your conversation is over, pushing you firmly but not roughly towards the great hall while the dragons tail you, “In her defense, like I said, we have had newcomers sneak off to conspire against us. But stay where everyone can see you, and try not to be so, well, y’know, stubborn and mysterious at dinner, and you’ll be fine.”

Shoulders hunched, hair a mess from its rendezvous with the grass, two dragons and a pissed-off rider trailing at your heels, you’re not sure you could look more mysterious and stubborn. But you’ll try to do what Hiccup thinks is best, because right now he's all you've got.

The meade hall is bustling like nothing you’ve ever seen before. Berk is a refreshingly tight-knit community, with people lining up at tables against the far end of the hall to set up dishes they’d brought in communal pots. It seems as though it’s one big assembly line, food brought from here, there, and everywhere for everyone on the island to share. For the most part, people serve their own dishes, and you feel out of place lining up to be served instead of bringing your own portion.

“I told you we mostly barter.” Hiccup hands you a bowl, still wet from having been washed previously, “Berk’s gold is more for alliances than anything. A lot of people make food to share because everyone needs to eat.”

“It’s nice here.” You hum, stew poured into your bowl despite the curious glances from the people dishing out their food, “My home- well, people weren’t cruel, but we had to pay. And some people couldn’t.”

Bread and cheese are handed to you, and you let someone siphon a generous helping of shredded meat into your bowl. It looks delicious, but a smell wafting from the end of the makeshift assembly line has your eyes slamming shut as nausea roils suddenly in your gut.

“Oh no,” Hiccup mutters from behind you, nearly bumping into you where you’ve stopped dead at the smell, “Okay, uh, Astrid’s very... generous! And she likes to contribute to dinner, but some of her recipes aren’t always village favorites. Just- whatever it is, take some and thank her. Please? It’ll help your case.”

The stench is truly horrifying. You weren’t quite aware that anything besides a decaying corpse could produce such an odor, but whatever thick, chunky substance Astrid is pouring into mugs for everyone seems to be more than cadaverous.

“Oh, yaknog!” Hiccup laughs, his voice dead and his eyes despairing, “It’s not Snoggletog, Astrid.”

“I know it’s not,” She rolls her eyes, grinning all the while. She passes you your mug gruffer than she does anyone else’s, but you take it without spilling a drop, even if it makes your stomach churn and your delicious stew less appealing, “But everyone always drains their glasses, so I thought I’d make it as a summer treat.”

“Thank you,” You hum blankly, staring at the noxious substance actively curdling in your mug, and as soon as Hiccup takes his stein, he rushes off to a far corner of the hall to claim an empty bench.

“We can dump that.” Hiccup promises, setting his own cup halfway across the table like it might contaminate his other food, “She’s- we really do appreciate the thought she puts into making food, but…”

“Yaknog.” You nod, still pulling in breath after nauseating breath of the odor, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Here,” Hiccup glances at Astrid, finding her completely obstructed behind his father’s stocky form, “Quick, while she’s not looking.”

He takes both tankards, dumping them out into what looks like someone’s dirty pot. It blends in with whatever unusable scraps they’d left behind, and he slides it several feet away with the toe of his boot.

“Everyone does drain their glasses," He admits, grimacing, "We chuck it as soon as we get the chance. Just... tell her you liked it. She might stop threatening to kill you.”

“She’s very… spirited.” You continue your directive of ass-kissing, “Is she a part of your father’s council?”

“No, but she should be.” Hiccup digs into his stew, but your stomachache lingers, and you decide to give it a few more minutes before braving your meal, “She’s really smart. And she’s really strong. And she’s really good at scaring people off. Berk could probably use someone like her as Chief.”

“Are you next in line?” You ask, and you swear you see his face pale in the candlelight.

“Technically. It’s just- not really my thing.” He admits, “It’s complicated. But I think Astrid would do a better job than me.”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty smart,” You remember his journal, packed with pages and pages of blueprints and deductions, “And you’d have to be strong to fight off a dragon the size of a mountain. You two nearly scared me off,” You remind them, “But maybe she’s more like your dad.”

Hiccup nods, chewing through a bite of stew.

“That’s not a bad thing.” You add, conscious of the way his eyes have dimmed slightly, “Not being like your dad. I’m sure you are, in some ways. But that’s not the end-all be-all.”

He swallows and clears his throat, and you remember you’re not supposed to be there. You remember you’ve only set foot on Berk hours ago, and fall back into silence, still afraid to touch your meal.

“You know a lot about me,” Hiccup's eyes remain on his food as he tears into his bread, “Or, at least you think you do. And I still don’t know anything about you.”

“You don’t need to. And I’ll leave you alone.” You glance at your own bread, finding its bland flavor appealing to line your stomach with. You leave the cheese aside, but take a tentative bite of the bread, “I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

“If you’re gonna be staying here for more than a night, you’d be better off giving up,” He advises you, “I wasn’t kidding when I said we have stubbornness issues. You’re gonna be asked so many times that you’ll go crazy.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t stay for longer than a night, then.” You consider, “Maybe I’ve already botched my chances here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hiccup frowns, shifting in his seat, “You’re welcome to stay. I believe you. I… I trust you. It’s just- you have to trust us too.”

“Not- not yet.” You plead, fingers pinching the soft bread until it’s flattened, “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

You’re grateful when he shovels another spoon of stew into his mouth.

The bench shakes as someone sits down beside you, and your breath catches in your throat. You hadn’t seen them coming- perhaps you’d been too embroiled in your own thoughts. It feels like there’s a target on your back- and maybe there is, but they don’t know the half of it.

“Something wrong with your stew?” A loud, brash voice comes from the man beside you, and Hiccup grumbles something surely offensive into his spoonful of dinner, “I can go get you another bowl if you want. Or- two bowls. Like, any amount. I can get you whatever you want.”

It’s a dark-haired man, a helmet on his head with horns that spiral and wind. They look intimidating, but his wide, dark eyes don’t, even if he’s trying very hard to make them by accompanying them with a dry smirk.

“This is Snotlout.” Hiccup nearly bites through his name, “And you can ignore pretty much anything he says, all the time.”

“You told me to ignore Astrid, too,” You glance at Hiccup from across the table, “Do you have any friends?”

You don’t mean for it to come out rude, more concerned, but Snotlout barks a laugh, “Not without us, he wouldn’t! He’s just jealous, ‘cause I’m better than him, and Astrid doesn’t like him anymore.”

“I am not jealous,” Hiccup argues, “Your name is Snot. Lout. You have the word snot in your name. I’m just trying to give Y/N a peaceful introduction to Berk, and neither of you are ever peaceful- like Fishlegs is! Fishlegs, sit.” Hiccup offers the blonde man a seat beside him, and you kiss your empty table goodbye once and for all. The man who sits across from Snotlout offers you a wary smile, hesitant but not unkind.

“Fishlegs is peaceful. Just endure Snotlout for one meal,” Hiccup offers, “And I’ll have Toothless burn through the seat of his pants when we leave.”

“Toothless would never do that to me,” Snotlout brags, but you watch the way one of his large hands curls into a fist on the tabletop.

“That’s true,” Hiccup muses, glancing sideways at Fishlegs who grins back, “Because Hookfang would have already done it for him.”

“You’re all jealous.” Snotlout declares, eyes narrowing from beneath his bushy brows and wild hair, “Because the bond that I have with Hooky is far greater than any dragon-rider bond you’ve ever seen before!”

Hiccup and Fishlegs share a glance that tells you Snotlout is speaking out of his ass.

“Do you have a dragon, Fishlegs?” You speak, diffusing the tension by keeping your voice that same timbre of politely interested that it’s been when speaking to anyone but Hiccup thus far.

“Yeah, she’s a gronckle.” Fishlegs nods, scooping meat onto his spoon. Your brows raise, and Hiccup swallows so that he can fill you in.

“Y/N’s never seen a dragon before.” Hiccup reveals, and both men share a startled glance that they don’t keep secret well enough, “A gronckle is- uh, a big boulder-class dragon. She’s super friendly, you should meet her next.”

“Hiccup, you shouldn’t call her big.” Fishlegs frowns, “She’s sensitive.”

“Fishlegs, she eats rocks! She’s- she’s a little tubby.” Hiccup groans, “All gronckles are.”

“I’m sure she’s gorgeous,” You conclude, and both men smile gratefully at you for the effort. 

You hope you’re doing enough ass-kissing.

“Yeah, well, Hookfang’s a little more impressive than a gronckle.” Snotlout brags, and you marvel at how you can really hear the narcissism in his tone of voice, “He’s a monstrous nightmare. Probably the most dangerous dragon out there. I tamed him though.”

“Neither of those things are true,” Hiccup glares at Snotlout, “Don’t worry about Hookfang, Y/N. The dragons have seemed to like you so far, and the only one who Hookfang ever has problems with is Snotlout, anyways. Plus, he’s nowhere near the most dangerous dragon out there.”

“There’s worse?” You ask, stomach now twisting for a different reason. You can’t possibly fathom a creature worse than one named a ‘monstrous nightmare’. Maybe you should leave Berk come morning.

“None that you’ll encounter.” Hiccup assures you, “And none that would hurt you even if they could.”

You’ll take his word for it, because you need to stop worrying or you’ll never eat.

You’re starved from nothing but rations on your boat, dried meats that hadn’t filled you the way you’d wanted them to, and bread you’d had to gorge on before it got moldy. You welcome the warm, steaming stew, and try to clear the smell of yaknog from your senses while eating.

It’s delicious stew, and you let the cheese get gooey on the bread before dragging it through the dregs in your bowl. Your almost non-stop nausea since departing from being rocked constantly by the waves had put you off of food, but you hadn’t realized just how much of a difference a hot meal could make until now. You wolf down the rest of your dinner, and Snotlout eyes you like he thinks you might tear into him next.

“Did you want another bowl?”

“No, thank you.” You straighten in your seat, your belly stiff, bloated and uncomfortable now that you’ve stuffed it for the first time in a week, “I shouldn’t overdo it.”

“You can have more later, if you want.” Hiccup smiles at you, stretching out in his own spot, “I’ll have them keep just the one fire going.”

“If the twins left any,” Fishlegs groans, “Here they come.”

All heads turn towards the pair of blondes headed your way, mid-squabble about who gets what spoon. They look identical to you- the spoons, not the twins - but you suppose siblings have to bicker about pointless things else they wouldn’t be close.

“-my spoon! I always take this one!”

“No you don’t,” The man practically roars at his sister, “This one doesn’t have a chip in the handle and yours is chipped from when I bit it.”

“I had to get a new spoon after you bit mine! It was giving me splinters. The new one's not chipped."

“Ruff, Tuff,” Hiccup tries, arms outstretched placatingly, but he nearly gets whacked on the head with a non-chipped spoon handle for his efforts, so he chooses instead to duck and cover.

“Fine. Then I want the one with the knot in the handle.” The man throws his spoon at his sister, smacking her square in the nose, “That one.”

He points to the spoon in your bowl, and seems to realize that he doesn’t recognize it’s user.

“Woah. Fresh face,” He notes, and his sister blinks owlishly at you from where she’s rubbing her stinging nose, “I’m Ruffnut.”

“No, I’m Ruffnut,” The woman scoffs, “He’s Tuffnut. The lesser twin.”

“Lesser? I’ll have you know, sister, that I’ve pranked more people than you have. That’s clearly not lesser.”

“You have not.” Ruffnut snarls, “You’re lesser because you have less of a brain.”

“Here’s the spoon.” You briefly rinse it with water from a jug on the table, wiping it dry with the hem of your tunic, “Please don’t start a food fight. I have to clean this hall later.”

“We heard you got a nasty punishment,” Tuffnut grins mischievously, “I think the last time this hall was cleaned, it was by fourteen-year-old Hiccup after he blew up the forge. There’s probably, like, spiders everywhere.”

You shoot Hiccup a concerned glance, but whether it’s more about his explosive tendencies or the Berk’s arachnid presence, you’re not sure. Either way, his ears flush red and you can’t see his cheeks because he hides behind another mouthful of stew, shoulders shielding his face as he hunches.

“I won’t throw anything.” Ruffnut promises, meeting your eye curiously, “But I can’t guarantee my brother won’t.”

“If I throw anything it’s gonna be at you, not at the wall.” Tuffnut grouses, kicking her beneath the table, “And I have, like, such good aim, it would never make a mess.”

“Your whole room is a mess.” Ruffnut scoffs.

Tuffnut yelps, “It’s your room too!” and you’re fairly certain that you’ll be scrubbing stew off of the walls hours from now.

“Guys.” Hiccup cuts in, his voice sterner now, “Guys!”

“What?” The twins shout in unison, brows furrowed as they seethe at the interruption.

“I have something for you two to blow up.” Hiccup pitches, and all at once it’s like they’ve been tranquilized. Their expressions relax, then kick up into pleasant grins.

“You’re speaking our language.” Tuffnut encourages, “So what is it? The hatchery? Mildew’s yard? Snotlout’s house?”

“We were already gonna do that,” Ruffnut shrugs, “But we can move our schedule around.”

Snotlout, who looks justly alarmed at this information, can’t get a word in before Hiccup continues.

“We need you to bomb Y/N’s boat.” He drags his journal out of a pocket on his pants, flipping to the appropriate pages, “And we also need you to not tell Astrid. Or my dad. Or- anyone, really.”

Tuffnut blinks awkwardly at you, a grimace twisting his features, “She’s not gonna be in the boat, is she?”

“No! Why would she-” Hiccup rears back, hands waving wildly, “Oh, whatever. No, she will not be in the boat when you two blow it up. My dad’s only offering her one night on Berk. And she needs more than that. We’re trying to make her a permanent resident, and he can’t send her away tomorrow if her boat’s in chunks throughout the coast.”

“I like where this is going,” Ruffnut nods, her voice gruff and enthusiastic, “And after we blow up her boat, everyone will flock to the ocean to see what happened. It’ll be the perfect time to strike Snotlout’s house!”

“Don’t blow up my house!” Snotlout shrieks, and Hiccup, for once, agrees with him.

“Don’t blow up Snotlout’s house.” 

“Fine.” Tuffnut grumbles.

“Whatever,” Ruffnut sighs into her hand.

“So just- in the morning, sneak out before my dad wakes up. Make sure there’s witnesses though- we don’t want anyone thinking Y/N was responsible. Barf and Belch can do their thing, it’ll be dismissed as one of your regular escapades, and Y/N can get comfortable here.”

Tuffnut’s face twists into a pleased smirk, “Oh, but Hiccup, Barf and Belch don’t have to do their thing.”

“Indeed they don’t,” Ruffnut chuckles sinisterly, “We have a better plan.”

“Introducing!” Tuffnut reaches for a bag resting on the seat beside him, a messenger that’s bulging from the inside, “Thorston Productions' newest invention: The Zippleblasts!”

He shakes the bag, and the flap opens, letting tens of round, metal objects fall to the floor. They scatter around the hall, rolling this way and that, and Ruffnut laughs again, “We made bombs.”

Hiccup’s eyes widen, and so do the rest of your tables’, “You made bombs?”

“We made bombs!” Tuffnut shouts, louder than the crowd, and the hall falls silent. He doesn’t seem to notice or care, and no one moves to pick up the explosives at their feet, frozen in fear. “Ruffnut got Barf to breathe a bunch of gas and I kept Belch asleep so he didn’t light it.”

“You made bombs.” Hiccup repeats, “And you brought them into the meade hall?”

“We wanted to show them off,” Ruffnut huffs, as if Hiccup’s the crazy one, “Plus, it’s just gas in there. They’d need fire to get them going.”

“Right, so you brought them to the communal oven.” Snotlout scoffs, warily eyeing the fires still blazing at the head of the hall, “Nice going, geniuses.”

“I-I’d like to take a look at your production process,” Hiccup’s tone is, frankly, terrified, “But that’s a problem for another day. Ruff, Tuff, pick those up and keep them away from any flames. They might be useful if we ever have to fight again, but let’s not tempt fate by carrying them around the village.”

“As you wish, wise leader.” Tuffnut stands to bow dramatically, “Sister! Retrieve the bombs.”

Ruffnut’s already scooping them up from where they’ve rolled off to, and she flings one at Tuffnut’s ankles. It hits bone, and he drops to the floor to clutch at the instantly reddening skin.

“Ow! Hiccup, she bombed me.” Tuffnut gripes, “Can’t you throw her out or something? You’re the son of the chief.”

“Stop throwing them!” Hiccup exclaims, “Tuffnut, help clean them up. Ruffnut, stop throwing them. Just- help. For once. Please.”

“He’s exaggerating.” Ruffnut pops up beneath the table by your feet, snagging one of the explosives that had rolled under your bench. One of the horns on her helmet nearly stabs you in the stomach and you fling an arm around yourself to protect it, “We help all the time. Which is why we can definitely help get you an extra-long vacation on Berk by-”

“By what?” Astrid’s piercing voice cuts through the amicable chatter, Ruffnut’s eyes widening as she snaps her mouth shut. Evidently she's done dishing out yaknog, and is now standing with her food at the head of your table looking entirely unimpressed.

“Nothing!” Ruffnut and Tuffnut declare in unison, physically incapable of sounding more suspicious. Ruffnut disappears beneath the table again, and Tuffnut decides that he has to check on his smarting ankle again, whistling faux-casually all the while.

“Right. Nothing.” Astrid huffs, slamming her own food onto the table beside Hiccup’s, shoving him to the side despite his yelp and squishing him between her and Fishlegs on the bench, “You two are always doing nothing.”

“Astrid, don’t you think you’re being a little rude?” Fishlegs questions, but he seems to regret it when her eyes flash dangerously.

“Have you forgotten what’s happened to us every time someone new shows up out of the blue? Heather tried stealing my dragon her first night on Berk. You really think I’m gonna hold Y/N’s hand and teach her the quickest escape route?”

“Heather was… complicated at first.” Hiccup admits, shoulders around his ears with the way he’s compressed between his friends, “But let’s just try to keep an open mind here. Y/N’s gonna do a fantastic job scrubbing the hall, and we’ll send her off with rations in the morning.”

“Yes, we will.” Astrid speaks through a mouthful of stew, lessening the bite that her tone could have had, “Whatever you're planning, Hiccup, drop it, now. And Ruffnut, Tuffnut?" The twins glance warily at her as she meets their gazes head on and steady, "Stay out of this.”

--

“So they’re gonna do it?” You ask, your knees aching and your palms smarting from the way you’ve been hunched on the floor for three hours, “They’re gonna blow my boat up tomorrow?”

“They’ll use one of their Zippleblasts, I guess,” Hiccup nods, his eyes widening as his shoulders heave with a sigh, “Don’t worry about Astrid. The twins are the only two people on Berk that won’t listen to her. They don’t listen to anyone.”

“They’re certainly entertaining,” You groan, straightening up to find Hiccup scrubbing his own portion of the hall, “You don’t have to help me, you know? I’m supposed to be doing this all myself.”

“I’ve scrubbed this hall a thousand times.” He admits with a sheepish grin, “I know what I’m doing, and I know how to do it. Besides, we can get it done in half the time. We’ll already be finishing late, I’m not going to leave you hanging all the way until morning.”

“I appreciate it.” Is all you can huff before hunching over again to get a stubborn stain out of the floorboards. One lone fire crackles beneath a pot of stew beside Hiccup, and you can’t wait until you’re finished cleaning and get to indulge in the stuff. It provides warmth, too, but mostly an enticing aroma that keeps you motivated to finish scrubbing.

“So,” Hiccup calls, “Now that we’re alone again, away from the prying eyes of the Berkians, is there anything you feel like sharing?”

“Nice try.” You don’t mean it, “How about instead, we talk about why you’re an expert at cleaning duty?”

“I got in trouble a lot as a kid,” Hiccup admits, shrugging his shoulders while soaping up the wood around the fire, “I’m- clumsy. And I’ve always been imaginative. And bold, I guess. So those were really a recipe for disaster.”

You grimace, “I can imagine. So, what, you blew up the forge every week?”

“No! Just three times.” He grumbles, “And there were a few other incidents, maybe, but hey! This seems completely unfair. You won’t answer any of my questions, but you want me to humiliate myself for entertainment?”

“Fine. I’ll stop asking.” You nod resolutely, tossing water on another expanse of the floor, “I just thought we could make conversation.”

“You can keep asking.” Hiccup offers, his voice suddenly pointed, “If I can get just one honest answer from you.”

“What?” You snap, irritated, shoulders hunched and aching, sweat beading at your brow.

“Were you being honest with my father when you told him whatever you're running from isn't going to disrupt Berk?”

You glance up at Hiccup, surprised by both the question and its tone, and you find him kneeling in your direction, sponge forgotten on the floor and fire illuminating his expression. It’s concerned, but resolute, his brow drawn low and his jaw set tight. He looks chiefly in this light. Like his dad.

“I was.” You promise, sincerely as you meet his eye, “It was- listen, whatever you’re thinking it was, it wasn’t that crazy. Just- they would have hated me. When they found out. It was something stupid I did, and they would have excommunicated me anyways, so I just got it over with and ran away myself. Just some silly, interpersonal drama, and that’s it. It won’t come to Berk.”

He nods once, his face softening in the firelight. 

“Good.” He rises to his feet, stumbling slightly with his prosthetic as he hobbles his way over to you on sore limbs, “I know what it's like, you know? Being a social outcast. You’re safe here,” You hear a clinking sound as his metal foot collides with something behind the table leg he walks past, “-and we’ll convince my dad to let you stay.”

“Hiccup.” Your eyes widen, and your stew-filled stomach drops down to your aching feet, “Bomb.”

“What?” His face scrunches in confusion, but at the sound of metal scraping wood, his eyes drop to find one of the twins’ stray, forgotten bombs rolling across the floor of the hall, beelining fast and true straight towards the only fire left in the hall.

Hiccup must have accidentally kicked it open, because a seal in the metal has come undone, leaking noxious green gas that kickstarts your fight or flight response. You’re on your feet in seconds, and you repeat yourself, shouting ‘Bomb!’ as you dash for the door.

“Run!” You scream, as if it might not have occurred to Hiccup. He’s already racing after you, the bomb too quick and close to the fire to stop, and as the blast sounds from behind you, you cross the threshold of what was once Berk’s great hall, but is now a pile of timber as the whole thing collapses.

You’re safe from the blast, but there’s smoke pouring from the building already. You trip and land on your knees outside of the hall's perimeter, and Toothless, who had been asleep outside, exhausted from the day’s patrol, jerks awake, his eyes wide and his ears alert.

“Toothless!” You exclaim, coughing as he bolts upright and rushes towards you, “I- I- It blew up! Hiccup, oh my god, are you okay- Hiccup?”

He’s not behind you.

You freeze, not for long, only for a split second, but long enough to realize that Hiccup hadn’t made it out. 

God, you hope he’s not dead. 

“Hiccup!” You cry, calling out into the wooden building already fully ablaze, itching to do something but faced with a roaring fire, “Hiccup, can you hear me?”

There’s no answer. Toothless is already rearing back to shoot what’s presumably more fire out of his throat but you push his head aside, “No, no, no! More won’t help! Are you fireproof?”

He screeches angrily at you like you’re not very helpful and he can’t understand you, both of which are probably true.

An alarm bell rings, high up in the village as a watchman shouts, ‘Fire!’

Within seconds, villagers in their pajamas pour from their houses in alarm, and you’re already prying at fallen planks of wood to try to locate Hiccup. They’re scorched, some still on fire, and you hiss as the flames lick at your skin.

“Hiccup!” You shout again, and thundering footsteps appear behind you as you dig through the rubble you can get to, “Hiccup, can you hear me?”

“Hiccup!” Stoick’s voice booms from behind you, “Hiccup’s in there?”

“He didn’t make it out,” You shout, tears beading in your eyes as you find a microscopic opening in the wood, “Help- help me! Help me find him!”

“Get out of the way,” Stoick shoves you aside, roughly enough to send you sprawling on the grass, “I knew you’d be trouble. Gobber! Help me get Hiccup.”

“I’m trying to help him! It wasn’t me!” You scream, and Toothless dashes forwards and picks you up by the neck of your tunic to run you around to what used to be the side of the building. There’s a larger opening there, not enough for a dragon to weasel through, but just barely big enough for you. It hasn't been engulfed in flames yet, but it will be soon. You don't have much time.

You dive in without a second thought- what do you have to lose?

The mass of broken wood is hot and still aflame, and you dodge the roaring fire as you scramble to find Hiccup amidst the carnage. You’re looking for a thick boot, a scruff of brown hair, a scaled shoulder pad, but what you manage to find is a leg, metal and glinting in the firelight.

“Hiccup!” You shriek, grabbing and pulling. To your horror, it slips right off of his body, leaving the most important parts of him still buried.

You groan and toss the metal behind you, digging further through the rubble to unbury him enough. You don’t mean to hit Toothless with the prosthetic, but it manages to alert him that you’ve found his rider, and he bashes a larger hole in the wood with his head to help you unearth Hiccup, thankfully not trying the fire-breathing approach anymore.

“I’ve got his leg!” You screech, your face ashen and sweaty as you fight through the fire, “Toothless, grab hold of his torso, and pull!”

To do this, Toothless retracts his teeth and practically swallows Hiccup’s head. He has to get a good grip on the man, for fear of injuring him without removing him, and you decide you’ll apologize for the spit in his hair after he wakes up.

If he wakes up.

His unconscious face is just as soot-covered as yours, but it’s quickly eclipsed by Toothless’s gummy maw, and you and the dragon work together to pry Hiccup out from the ruins of the hall. The fire blazes around you, and you feel the back of your tunic catch, but you use all of your energy to heave Hiccup out of the rubble before it’s too late.

When you smell fresh air again it’s because Toothless wraps his tail around your middle and helps compensate for your weakness. He drags Hiccup out by the torso and you out by your belly, grunting with exertion as he brings you both to safety away from the fire.

You’re coughing and your back hurts, but Toothless is slapping his tail against your tunic to put out the flames before you can think about dropping and rolling in the grass. It leaves you to worry about Hiccup, and you fall to your knees beside him.

“Hiccup?” You shout, grabbing his face and jostling it back and forth, “Hiccup!”

“Son!” Stoick’s voice reaches your ears again, and you feel the ground shake slightly as he parts the crowd to bound over to you both, “You found him.”

“He was buried,” You pant, coughing at the smoke filling your lungs, “But he’s- I tried, I swear I tried to help-”

Stoick takes the boy from your arms and nestles his ear against Hiccup’s chest, eyes squeezed shut in a silent prayer.

“He’s alive!” Stoick shouts, eyes springing open, and tears of relief and adrenaline bead at your eyes, “He’s alive, he’s- he’s not-”

“Thank the gods.” You breathe, your chest heaving with a sob. 

“You.” Stoick grunts, gruff again, cradling his son protectively to his chest. Hiccup begins stirring, coughing the same way you are though his eyes remain closed. Stoick glances at your singed tunic, and the way blood is smeared up your arm from a jagged plank of broken wood, “Why’d you go in after him?”

“Because I didn’t set the fire,” You growl, panicking even though it’s miles away from the politeness you’d promised Hiccup, “It was them!”

You gesture roughly to Ruffnut and Tuffnut, who have shown up beside their two-headed dragon, which you’re sure is the aforementioned Barf and Belch.

Their eyes widen at the accusation, but they don’t deny it, “Uh, you wouldn’t have happened to see one of our bombs, have you? We counted when we got home and one was missing.”

Stoick’s eyes squeeze shut again, this time in exasperation. He clutches Hiccup tighter as the man rouses, eyes blinking open, arms trying to reach his face to rub smoke and ash out of his eyes. Stoick mutters, “Odin’s beard.” Then shouts, “Ruffnut! Tuffnut! Put out the fire. Then, you’ll rebuild the hall. Plank by plank. And I’m confiscating those bombs of yours.”

They protest, but it’s not meaningful- they’d blown up the great hall. They seem to know this and get to work without much fuss, grumbling instead of causing a scene as their dragon takes them all the way to Berk’s water reserves.

“I can-” You pant, fiddling awkwardly with your fingers as you come down from your adrenaline rush, “I can help rebuild it. If you want.”

“I suppose it wasn’t your fault.” Stoick eyes you with a narrowed gaze, peering down at Hiccup who’s barely conscious. He sits the man up against his chest, tipping his head back to open his airway, “Still. It doesn’t help your case that the village blows up the same day you get here.”

“I- I know, but,” You try explaining, but before you can get far a black-and-red tail crosses over your face, and you find yourself pulled backwards against Toothless’s side. The dragon leans his great head over your shoulder and chitters at Toothless, all sass and gruff grumbles.

“That’s rude.” Stoick grunts. “I don’t know what you’ve said to me, Toothless, but I know it’s rude.”

“He said,” Hiccup wheezes, his voice interrupted by a trembling cough as the twins return with water, dumping it over the flames, “That Y/N’s been nothing but helpful so far. She saved my life and it’s only fair that we save hers. He said we should let her stay.”

You’re fairly certain the dragon didn’t say that, but you appreciate both of their efforts anyways.

Stoick sighs deeply, glancing down at his weakened, frail son. Hiccup does look especially pitiful, and you’re sure that’s why Stoick heaves a great sigh, eyes flickering upwards towards you where Toothless is keeping you tightly held against him.

“Right. You did save my son’s life.” Stoick acknowledges, “And that means a great deal to me. You can stay. But-” He points a thick, accusatory finger at you, “Not unconditionally, and not forever. You earn your keep, you stay out of trouble, and we’ll find you someplace else to stay.”

“That’s all I ask.” You breathe, shoulders lifting as Stoick releases their burden, “I’ll work for my food and wherever I sleep. And I won’t cause trouble. I swear on my life. And- and thank you. For helping me.”

“You’re welcome.” Stoick meets your gaze, his eyes deep and soulful, Chiefly the same way Hiccup’s were a mere ten minutes ago as he clutches his son to his chest, “Don’t make me regret it.”

[an-extrodinary-blog-for-el-topo]

What do you do in your Free time?

(omg Lord help my soul I forgot about this ask I'm horrible..)

It depends on the day,

Some days, I like to go exploring and scaling, and..dig.

And on some days. I dig—Then sit there for the entire day. Or until Le Chèvre drags me out of my hole.

I do not only cook, y'know–I knit and paint sometimes but most of my paints aren't as .. recognizable, as I wish it would. At least my knitting looks nice, at least that's what Le Chèvre said. Tigress said once she'll use it to keep warm when lighting a fire.

I also lift, most times it's weights and sometimes it is Le Chèvre,

But most of these things happen rarely because of how many operations I am sent on by Professor Maelstorm because I am his "star student"

I'm sure there are other operatives better than I am.

👋

[spookythesillyfella]

Tiny inbox because my mind is blank but I love Michi's design SO MUCH and I just love how her facial expressions are drawn like you can tell the hard work put into her character please never stop talking about this man's music and characters I love it forever

I sadly have not much to talk about lately EITHER so just know I'll be the first to say I love your posts about the (Character) and hope you keep going! I love you Spooky <3 Thank you for being around still

I KNOWW .... MICHIZ DEZIGN IZ SO THOUGHT-OUT AND . ABOVE THAT . SO NICE TO LOOK AT ........

every frame from "You will never forget me" – Dobuno Awa really doez juzt capture each of her exprezzionz in such a good light ... u can see the "forced smile" . u can see dizappointment . u can see fear . dezperation . determination ; Geronika doez a phenomenal job with the MV and – if i had to admit – im incredibly jealouz of their artiztic talent

in the album cover for "You will never forget me" – once again illustrated by Geronika – she iz ... incredibly in her element ; glitching out from her regular human form into the puppet form . both of her eyez incredibly tired . az Popo forshadowz the worzt . back turned towardz her friend [perhapz to symbolize that she played a hand in Michi'z suicide . but that she waz never aware of it]

^ small sidenote : Michi iz often azzociated with puppetz / dollz – Madoguchi and Itoguchi alike both pozezz a little doll of her ; my bezt guezz iz that she alwayz felt treated like a toy . and not like a perzon – Madoguchi ownz several of theze and iz quite deztructive with them . letting some of their headz fall off and dizcarding of them once they're broken . and Itoguchi haz only one . but that she holdz incredibly cloze . in all the scenez shez had it in . she keepz it firmly pressed againzt her chezt . cradling itz head

the way in which Dobuno Awa himzelf drawz Michi iz alzo really nice ; he uzez a lot more colorz . and when he drawz her exprezzionz they have a certain gentlenezz to them that waz a bit lacking in Geronika'z renditionz – much like how her "smile" lacked meaning and emotionz to begin with ...

if i had to dezcribe thiz difference in a bit of a more concize manner . it would probably be : "Geronika'z Michi iz edgier and accentuatez her deteriorating mental situation . while Dobuno Awa'z Michi iz softer and reprezentz her façade of happinezz better"

[martinsorbit]

I forgot to say it before but i am SO sorry that I didnt answer all the Halloween trick or treats from last October; I got way more asks than I'm usually used to (which is like. 2 max) in a day so I fr couldn't take making a drawing for all of them. Just know that I did read and see all of them (I just forgot to answer) and I'm putting some candy in ur hands now as a kinda late apology :*-)

[monstermoviedean]

thanks for being nice to me <3

[invoncible]

ok but hear me out mark and a magical girl reader that’s it that’s the imagine

MARK GRAYSON & magical!reader ✧˚.

— im def hearing you out on this one anon — my inbox is open for any kind of invincible requests :P

for someone who's fighting tactics are just.... 90% brute force, mark was fascinated by you a little a lot

you can make the world around you bend to your will with elegant swooshes of light

you had a hold on the hero scene in general, but you had something different on mark... except he was the last one to realize it

rex always teased that you were some fairy tale legend, but that's literally what you were. something out of a storybook

"you're embarrassing me." rex grimaced as he cast a sideways glance at mark. "haven't i taught you to be a better flirt than this? you're just staring at them."

mark shook his head, heat rising to his face as he snapped out whatever trance you had him in. "uh. yeah, okay."

"'yeah, okay' what?" the redhead jabbed a finger into mark's face accusingly. "go talk to 'em, what's the worst that can happen?"

what's the worst that could happen? a lot of things. at least in mark's eyes.

but once he finally mustered up the courage to ask you out, he realized he'd been worrying for nothing

the whole magic thing was your brand, so he figured he'd match your energy when he tried to sweep you off your feet.

it was halloween, and you went in a variant of your hero costume. it passed more or less for a fantasy getup, like you were a magical royalty or something like that

mark thought he was so clever going as a knight in shining armor

"i was thinking that, uh... you and me, you know? we go pretty good together, outside of the fighting stuff." he strolled beside you. he'd thought of what to say many, many times before this moment, but standing next to you was a whole different story. "not that we don't make a good team, cuz we do. i think we make an awesome team, but, uh... i just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out on our own, without the world threats and stuff."

he cleared his throat, mentally punching himself for that mess of a set up, eyes darting to your face to assess your reaction.

"like a date?" you blinked, a slow smile of realization spreading on your face.

he cleared his throat, fist curling around his play sword. "uh... yeah." he pulled a red rose from his belt and twirled it in his hand nervously as he held it out to you. "for you." this is stupid this is stupid.

but you beamed at him, your bright laughter making him relax from the apprehensions in his head. you accepted his sweet token and took his hand in yours. "thank you."

he grinned and stood a little straighter, puffing out his chest. "heh. you're welcome."

if he saw something in a comic book that resembled your abilities, he'd tell you and try to help you emulate the power if it was worthwhile.

"mark, i'm not a wizard. i don't have a crystal ball or a giant scepter." you put your hands on your hips.

he frowned, flipping his comic book towards to and pointing to the frame where the character was doing a crazy spell that knocked out all of the enemies. "just hear me out! what if—"

after you met his mother, you started hanging out and staying over a lot more. debbie was so delighted to have the equivalent of a disney princess in her home that could make the brooms sweep for themselves, the pots and pans cook on their own, and the laundry to fold without any help.

mark opened the door to the broom shuffling along the floors dutifully, stopping and shaking when it saw him as if waving hello. mark hesitantly waved back, and it went on about its tasks.

"oh, mark!" debbie's smile was welcoming. she held out her mug and the coffee pot floated over and poured her a fresh cup before retreating back to its station.

he sighed and hung his jacket, kissing his mom's head in greeting. "mom, you can't have y/n work all the time when she's over."

debbie glared at her son. "what kind of host do you take me for? you forget i'm in real estate—i'm a master at hospitality. y/n was the one that insisted. and believe me, they’re not working." she chuckled to herself, endeared by your stubborn need to help her out.

mark gave a confused look to his mom before he flew upstairs, and his mom was right. you were sleeping soundly in his bed while clothes were being folded and sorted into baskets beside you.

he huffed a little smile as he climbed under the covers beside you, snuggling into your back.

© invoncible

[pervertwhore]

LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE

SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!

CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!

SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.

slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.

a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.

aerial shoot, his favorite.

but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.

slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.

he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.

he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.

hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.

looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.

a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.

he was lonely.

despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.

the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.

he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.

the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.

the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.

he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.

he wasn’t happy.

leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.

his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.

so, that left him with one more option.

opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.

pornhub.com

this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.

his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.

he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.

he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.

opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.

it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.

college girl masturbates solo :)

it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.

there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.

the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.

he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.

he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.

leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.

after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.

it was slick, glistening.

his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.

leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.

he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.

it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.

his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.

his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.

the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.

oh, how he missed it.

as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.

his cock twitched, fuck.

you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.

pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..

you’re pathetic leon.

even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.

he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.

his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.

a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.

his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.

holy fuck.

his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.

leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.

he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.

he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.

looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.

your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?

he sucked in a breath and gulped.

him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.

it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.

but it wasn’t, and he knew that.

sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.

the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.

choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.

he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.

your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.

his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.

it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.

his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.

he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.

he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—

his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.

you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.

not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.

it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.

leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.

running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.

reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.

no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.

he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.

instagram.

leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.

you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.

you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.

after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.

leon wasn’t sick.

he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.

he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.

sick. you are sick.

leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.

the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.

he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.

at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.

this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.

occasionally, you participated in live streams.

it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.

that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.

in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.

he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.

tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.

‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.

you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.

leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.

get a fucking grip.

your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.

his mouth went dry when you addressed him.

he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.

SKENNEDY001

okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?

slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.

but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?

“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.

leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.

he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.

‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.

his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.

he was obsessed with you.

the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?

the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.

“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.

leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.

you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.

he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.

the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.

luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.

he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.

the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.

not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.

what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.

‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’

leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.

running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.

‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’

he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.

‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’

your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.

‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’

he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.

‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’

oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?

‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.

the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.

leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.

he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.

nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.

≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.

he couldn’t expose himself.

but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.

you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.

he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.

once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.

entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?

he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.

he couldn’t go into this sober.

letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.

‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’

why would he say that?

leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.

after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.

‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’

he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.

leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.

he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.

‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.

he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.

leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.

‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’

‘take your time.’

during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.

he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.

moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.

reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.

he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.

feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.

‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.

he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.

‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.

looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.

‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.

okay, good.

eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.

“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.

taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.

leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.

he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.

why was it so easy to get hard for you?

“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.

leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.

you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.

leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.

“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.

a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.

leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.

humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.

you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.

“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.

you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.

so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.

“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.

leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.

leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.

“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.

turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.

you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.

turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.

leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.

you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.

“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.

you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.

“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.

you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?

a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.

reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.

his camera turned on and he had no idea.

you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.

he was hot.

like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.

this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.

you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.

he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.

“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.

leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.

he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.

leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.

your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.

this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.

only him.

“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.

your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.

leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?

this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.

leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.

a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?

you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.

leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.

but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.

“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.

leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.

he was so cute.

“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.

each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.

you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.

“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.

leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.

“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.

you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.

this was so hot.

leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.

the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.

while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.

leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.

panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.

“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.

your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.

rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.

he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.

if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.

by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.

leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.

it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.

your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.

god.

leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.

this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.

watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.

metaphorically, of course.

you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.

he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.

he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.

slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.

your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.

squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.

eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.

“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.

looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.

plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.

“so, tell me more about you, leon.”

≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.

the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.

he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.

he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.

he missed you.

reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.

hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.

it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.

the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.

it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.

had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.

taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.

‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’

╰ TAGS: @gor3-hound @rigorwhoring @nilpill @ottermarbles @argreion @angelstargel @lysa1201-saucy @dilfsmaid @sweets3rial @doja-rat16 @bababsthings @frillyyyy @nyxxoxo @admirxation @gcldtom @ashrillvenheim @seraphicsuicides @altissia-09 @ghostier0t @biohazard-4ever @leonsgirl-111 @th3lma @squazmine @dakotali @neverg0nnagivey0uup @brblnc @emodanoriddler @v1ccc @dear-satan @skydisneylover @calansic @acidaciruela @vkurtmien @shiawaseorii @fxnfandxmmp4 @valentin78pon @antagonize-me-motherfucker

[robbysreaders]

Sorry I don’t make the rules, we need more ex x baby daddy!Jack!

Especially their wedding, breeding kink Jack, more babies, the whole thing.

Hehe pls & thanks

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader word count: 3.6k notes: part 4 of ex!reader and babydaddy!jack way hornier than the rest of writing but tbh like .5 chili peppers haha and thank you for this req in my inbox!!!! i love these two and i'm working my way through some ideas that have been shared with me but i just started a new job so they will probably be over the next few weeks!

Something unlocks after you get engaged.

It’s not dramatic, not fireworks. Just this quiet, grounded certainty that settles between you. This is it. This is real. There’s a ring on your finger, a boy in the other room who looks like both of you, and Jack—Jack, who once felt like an impossible choice, now feels like home.

And you continue to see a side of him you’re not entirely used to.

He's still Jack—still grumbles about budget cuts and leaves coffee mugs in strange places—but he’s also… attentive. Almost absurdly so. Sweet in a way that feels like he’s been saving it all up. And maybe a little unhinged in the best, horniest way. He touches you constantly. Always finds a way to press a kiss to your temple, your shoulder, your stomach. Like he still can’t believe he gets to.

“I locked you down,” he mutters one morning, arms snug around your waist as you brush your teeth. “You, Beau, and a damn ring. The trifecta.”

“You make it sound like a hostage situation,” you laugh, spitting into the sink.

Jack grins against your neck. “Maybe I should squirrel you away to the courthouse before you change your mind.”

“Oh, we were dangerously close to that, don’t kid yourself,” you say, rinsing. “But I wanted the view.”

And the view was worth it.

Lake Como in late May. A small villa perched on a hillside, all warm stone and blooming vines. The ceremony was intimate—friends, family, a very small and slightly chaotic PTMC contingent somehow made the trip. Robby cried, and Dana pretended not to. Your sister wrangled Beau through the flower-petal aisle like she’d been training for it her whole life.

You danced under string lights. Said “I do” to a man who still sometimes forgets to fold towels correctly but looks at you like you hung the stars.

And somehow—shockingly—you agreed to let your sister take Beau back with her, so you and Jack could have a true honeymoon.

Just you. Just him.

The first night, you’re on the balcony in a linen robe and nothing else, wine glass in hand, the lake glowing below you.

Jack comes up behind you—barefoot, shirtless, lazy smile on his face—and wraps his arms around your waist like he can’t help himself.

“I love this,” you murmur. “I love you. I want to stay here forever.”

“I know,” he says, kissing that spot just beneath your ear. Then, after a beat, “But… is it just me, or does it feel like missing a limb without Beau? …no pun intended.”

You laugh and spin in his arms, wrapping your hands around his neck. “God, I love you. This is why I married you. You’re in my brain.”

“I’m just saying,” he grins, brushing your hair back. “Maybe we wouldn’t miss him so much if you were already carrying another little Abbot with you.”

You raise a brow. “Wow. Wasting no time, huh?”

“I’ve been waiting six years Mrs. Abbot. You can’t be surprised.”

“Careful,” you say, teasing, “you sound like you get off to me being barefoot and pregnant.”

Jack hums, low and amused. “I mean… if the shoe fits.”

You groan, half-exasperated, half turned on. “God, you’re such a menace.”

“An insatiable menace,” he says, sliding his hands beneath your robe. “Who happens to be very good at making you come. Efficient, even. Fill you so good we’d get twins. Two for one.”

“Okay, Doctor Abbot,” you laugh, swatting at his chest. “Did you hit your head or is this just post-wedding delirium?”

He grumbles into your neck.

You swat his chest. “You know, for a doctor, you know nothing about conception.”

“I know the basics,” he says, hand smoothing over your hip, “and that I’m pretty damn good at it.”

“God, you are so full of yourself. Should’ve never married a jock.”

He smirks. “Did someone say cock?” His hips roll against yours, slow and deliberate, pressing a point.

You groan, laughing into his mouth as he kisses you. “You’re ridiculous. And I thought you’d go for the “and you’ll be so full of me’ route”

“What can I say, I’m maturing,” he mumbles, deepening the kiss, his hands roaming now. “You’re lucky you married me. Any other man would’ve passed out from post-wedding exhaustion.”

“Instead I got the energizer bunny in scrubs.”

He scoops you up with ease—one arm under your thighs, the other around your back—and carries you inside like it’s your first night all over again. He drops you onto the bed gently, then follows, kissing a path down your stomach.

“Jack,” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I’m just doing a thorough exam,” he says into your skin. “You’ve under my care, it would be negligent not to check on you after such a major life event like getting married.”

“You’re annoying,” you say, breath hitching.

“You love it.”

You do.

You love all of it. The warmth, the ease, the hunger in him that never faded, just changed shape over time. You let him take his time—relearn your body like it’s the first time all over again. You lose yourself in him, in the soft press of lips to skin, the whispered confessions that slip out only when his guard is down.

Laughing, gasping, kissing like it’s the only language you know. After, you lay tangled together, sweat-damp and boneless.

He traces circles on your back, eyes half-lidded. “Seriously. Twins.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m just saying, it’s efficient.”

“Beau is six and I’m still tired.”

Jack chuckles. “Fine. No pressure. Just practice. Lots of practice.”

You roll over, facing him. “You happy?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “More than I knew I could be.”

The room is quiet. Outside, the lake glimmers in moonlight.

“I was scared, you know,” you whisper.

Jack glances down at you. “When?”

“All of it. Letting you back in. Saying yes. I kept thinking, what if we just mess it up again?”

He brushes a hand along your jaw. “We probably will. Sometimes. But I’m not going anywhere. And I won’t let you carry the weight alone.”

Your eyes sting. “That’s what scared me before. Feeling like I was alone in it.”

“I know,” he says softly. “I felt it too. But I didn’t know how to fix it then. I was still trying to outrun things.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m tired of running.”

You press a kiss to his chest. “So no running. No hiding.”

“No hiding,” he repeats.

There’s a long silence, filled only by the soft hum of the night and your breathing slowing in sync.

Then Jack says, so quietly you almost miss it: “I want a big life with you.”

You look up. “You already have one.”

He smiles. “I know. But I want more of it. All the messy, beautiful pieces. Soccer games and parent-teacher conferences. Slow Sundays. Another baby. or two. or ten. Just—more.”

Your throat tightens. “God, you’re such a sap now.”

“Shut up,” he mutters, pulling you in closer.

You grin into his skin. “Don’t worry. I’m into it.”

And he’s into you—clearly—because within minutes, he’s proving again just how committed he is to “practice.”

That night, you fall asleep in his arms, lulled by the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the quiet certainty that this time, you didn’t choose wrong.

His arm is slung heavy around your waist, one leg wedged between yours. His hand is resting possessively on your hip, thumb tucked just under the curve of your stomach like it belongs there. You don’t move. You just lay there, soaking in the stillness.

The lake outside is calm. There’s birdsong, a faint breeze, and nothing else.

You sigh into the silence.

“Mmm,” Jack mumbles, tightening his grip. “Alive?”

“Barely.”

“You wore me out,” he says, voice hoarse and self-satisfied.

“You begged for it.”

“I did,” he agrees. Then, after a beat: “I’d do it again.”

You smile, pressing your nose to his chest. “We’ve officially entered the honeymoon stage.”

“We skipped it the first time. I’m cashing in.”

You shift slightly, pressing your cold toes to his shin. He flinches.

“Jesus.”

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Poor circulation. Still your wife though.”

“Unfortunately.”

You laugh, then kiss his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“No idea. But I think I’ve achieved full body paralysis.”

“Same.”

There’s a long, quiet pause. Then Jack says, “We should go swimming.”

You blink. “Right now?”

“Yeah. Why not? Lake’s right there. We’re in Italy. No Beau to referee. Might be our last chance before life crashes back in.”

“Very romantic. Also, I don’t even know where I packed my swimsuit.”

“Who said anything about swimsuits?”

You arch a brow. “You want to skinny-dip? In the daytime?”

He shrugs, rolling onto his back. “I’m just saying, we’re legally married. What are they gonna do, arrest us for being in love?”

“Jack.”

“Live a little, Mrs. Abbot.”

You stare at him. “You’re serious.”

“I’m proposing an impulsive memory. Don’t make me swim alone like some pervert.”

You groan dramatically, grabbing a sheet as you roll out of bed. “Fine. But if I get arrested in a foreign country for public indecency, you better bail me out.”

He grins. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

You wrap yourself in the linen sheet toga-style and pad barefoot out onto the balcony. The stairs down to the private dock are warm beneath your feet, sun already high and bright.

Jack follows behind, also barely dressed, with two towels slung over his shoulder and that cocky post-wedding glow.

The water is cool but not cold. Crisp. Clean. You wade in first, shrieking at the initial shock until Jack yanks you forward and pulls you under with him.

When you surface, sputtering, hair slicked back and gasping from laughter, he’s looking at you like he can’t believe this is his life.

“You’re unreal,” he says, reverent.

You splash water in his face. “I married you, didn’t I?”

“Best scam I’ve ever pulled.”

You drift closer, legs brushing. His hand cups the back of your neck. You kiss, slow and deep and lazy, and when he pulls back, you can see the smile in his eyes.

The lake stretches out behind him. A postcard come to life.

You stay in the lake until your fingers are pruned and your stomach’s growling. Breakfast is pastries you picked up from a little corner bakery, still flakey and warm. Jack makes espresso in the tiny kitchen, whistling off-key. It’s stupidly domestic. And perfect.

You sit on the floor of the villa, legs tangled, plates on your laps. He steals a bite of your sfogliatella without asking.

“Do you think we should call Beau today?” you ask, chewing.

Jack nods, swallowing his own bite. “Yeah. Just to check in. Not now though. He’ll be with your sister at the zoo or the pool or learning how to disassemble small electronics, depending on her mood.”

You laugh. “She does run a very strange babysitting operation.”

“She’s a miracle worker. Honestly, I’m still shocked she agreed to take him.”

“She told me every married couple deserves three uninterrupted days after the ‘I do.’ Then handed me a jumbo box of condoms and said not to come home pregnant unless it was intentional.”

Jack chokes on his coffee. “Jesus Christ.”

You shrug, smug. “Just saying—her words, not mine.”

He leans back against the couch, eyeing you. “And is it?”

You glance at him.

“Intentional.”

The air shifts.

You don’t answer right away. Just push your plate aside and crawl into his lap. He adjusts instantly, arms wrapping around you, palms dragging up your thighs.

“I think… I’m not not open to it,” you say slowly. “Before, it felt impossible. Everything felt so fragile. But now? I look at you and Beau, and it’s like—yeah. I want more of this. More of us.”

He swallows, throat bobbing. “You’re sure?”

You smile. “You’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure about.”

His mouth finds yours, urgent now, full of promise. You kiss like it’s a decision, a vow, a whole damn future.

And when he finally pulls back, he’s flushed and breathless.

“I love you so much it’s physically uncomfortable.”

You laugh against his jaw. “Sucks to be you, I guess.”

He grins. “Yeah. Tragic.”

That afternoon, you nap in the sun. The villa has a hammock strung between two cypress trees and Jack insists on sharing it, even though he’s too long and your legs keep tangling and one of you always ends up with an elbow in the ribs.

“I hope Beau’s having a good day,” you murmur, eyes closed, head on his chest.

Jack’s hand is tracing idle circles on your bare arm. “I’m sure he is. You think he’ll remember the wedding?”

“Some pieces,” you say. “The dancing. The cake. Robby giving him ten euros to yell ‘just kiss already!’ before we even got to the vows.”

“God,” he sigh. “What a circus.”

You hum in agreement.

Then, “Do you think we’re doing okay? With him? With this?”

Jack shifts beneath you. “Honestly? I think we’re doing great. Not perfect. But real. He’s kind. Confident. Feels safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod slowly. “I used to worry so much about what we were showing him, you know? The split. The mess.”

“He saw love,” Jack says simply. “Even when it was hard. Especially then.”

You press your face to his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him—sun, sweat, skin.

“I’m glad we waited to do this right,” you whisper. “I don’t think I could’ve survived a version of us where we never figured it out.”

Jack’s voice is thick. “Me either.”

That night, you dress up.

No real reason. Just a silky dress you’ve been saving, heels a little higher than you usually wear. Jack puts on real pants—well, linen slacks—and a button-down that’s already half undone by the time he finishes wrestling with the cuffs.

He sees you and stops short.

“Jesus.”

“Too much?”

“Not enough.”

Dinner is just a short walk into the village—twinkly lights and hand-pulled pasta and a carafe of wine that disappears too quickly. You talk about everything and nothing. The neighbors at home. Future holidays. How much more you can fit in your suitcase without paying extra baggage fees.

“You’re going to check my carry-on and judge me, aren’t you?” you accuse.

“Only because you brought six pairs of shoes and wore the same ones every day.”

“They’re options, Jack.”

He leans over the table, resting his chin on his hand. “God, I love you.”

You stop. Just for a second. Let it wash over you.

“I love you too.”

Later, you walk back slow. His hand finds yours. Your shoulders brush.

Back at the villa, Jack peels the dress off you like he’s unwrapping a gift. Kisses every inch of bare skin he uncovers. You let him take his time.

You make love slow. No rush. No hunger. Just reverence. It feels different this time—heavier, softer, but still electric.

You don’t remember falling asleep—just the weight of Jack’s body against yours, the slow press of his kisses, the steady rhythm of your breath returning to normal in the quiet afterglow.

What wakes you is the light. It spills through the shutters, golden and soft, casting lazy stripes across the sheets.

Jack’s already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching you like you’re some kind of sunrise. His hair’s a mess, lips kiss-bitten, and he has the nerve to look smug about it.

“Morning, Mrs. Abbot,” he says, voice rough with sleep.

“God,” you groan, burying your face in the pillow. “You’re going to say that all the time, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” he grins. “Until it’s on your driver’s license.”

You roll onto your back, stretch slowly. His eyes follow the movement like he’s hungry again.

“You’re staring,” you say.

“You’re glowing.”

“I’m sweating.”

“Still counts.”

You nudge him with your foot. He catches it, presses a kiss to your ankle, and suddenly you feel a whole lot warmer.

“You hungry?” he asks.

“Starving.”

“I’ll make breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You brought me to Italy just to feed me scrambled eggs?”

Jack swings his legs off the bed and stands—naked, unabashed. “I’m a man of many talents. But fine. Pancakes?”

“In Italy?”

He shrugs. “International pancakes.”

You laugh as he heads toward the kitchen, grabbing a pair of boxers on the way. He whistles while he moves, some Sinatra song you vaguely recognize, and your heart tugs in your chest like it still can’t quite believe this is real. 

You pull on one of his shirts and pad barefoot after him. The villa is quiet, the lake just barely visible through the open patio doors, glittering in the morning sun.

Jack’s already got flour out. There’s a pan warming on the stove. You wrap your arms around him from behind, rest your cheek between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t burn them.”

“You wound me.”

“I’ve seen you try to flip a pancake. You get too cocky.”

“That’s because you heckle me,” he says, flipping the first one with unnecessary flair. “Watch and learn, Mrs. Abbot.”

You roll your eyes but sit at the table, watching him with something dangerously close to adoration. There’s something ridiculous about how seriously he takes this—like he’s proving something. Like if he makes these pancakes just right, he’ll have earned it all over again.

He sets a plate in front of you with a flourish. “Bon appétit.”

You take a bite, eyes widening. “Okay. Okay, maybe you have improved.”

Jack smirks, sitting across from you, fork already in hand. “I’ve been practicing.”

“For this moment?”

“For this life.”

The words hit you low and deep, like a drum. You look at him—really look—and see it there: the steadiness. The certainty. He’s still Jack, but he’s… more. Softer around the edges. Not smaller, just less armored.

You reach for his hand across the table.

“I still can’t believe we’re here.”

“Me neither.”

“I don’t think I let myself imagine it,” you admit. “Not after everything.”

Jack’s expression sobers. He sets his fork down. “Can I tell you something?”

You nod.

“That night. The one when you said you needed space. I thought… I thought that was it. I thought I’d ruined my life beyond fixing.”

You squeeze his fingers.

“I let it happen,” he continues quietly. “I was so afraid of screwing it up that I stood back and watched it fall apart. It’s like—if I didn’t fight for it, I couldn’t be blamed for losing it.”

Your throat tightens. “Jack…”

He shakes his head. “But I realized it wasn’t fair. To you. Or to Beau. Or to myself, honestly. But I didn’t know how to be better then. I didn’t even know what better looked like.”

“You do now,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he says. “Because of you.”

There’s a silence that stretches, heavy but full. Then you stand, walk around the table, and sink into his lap. He holds you like he’s anchoring himself.

“You did all the hard work, I just pushed you to do it. We’re allowed to be happy now,” you murmur into his neck.

Jack’s arms tighten. “Yeah. I don’t think I ever thanked you”

“I can think of a few ways to start showing your gratefulness”

The rest of the day unfolds like a dream.

You spend the afternoon wandering through the nearby village—stone streets, small shops, gelato for lunch. Jack insists on carrying your bag. You make fun of his touristy camera strap, and he makes fun of your obsession with ceramic bowls.

You take a million photos together, and he looks so happy—so open—that you save one immediately as your phone background.

When you get back, you read on the balcony while he naps on the couch, one arm flung dramatically over his eyes like a romance novel hero. You don’t even wake him when he starts to snore.

By evening, you’re tangled again in bed, warm skin against warm skin, and Jack is tracing his name on your thigh with his fingertip.

“You know what I was thinking?” he says, voice low.

“Mm?”

“That I want to take you everywhere. That we should do a honeymoon part two, with Beau. Paris. Or Morocco. Or Tokyo. Somewhere Beau can try weird candy and yell at me in public without getting in trouble.”

You laugh. “He already does that.”

“True. But we could do it under the guise of cultural education.”

You turn to face him. “You really want to travel?”

“I want to do anything that keeps us feeling like this,” he says. “Like we’re not just surviving.”

You study him. The honesty. The hope.

“Then let’s make it a plan,” you say. “Once a year. Somewhere new.”

Jack’s smile softens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Deal. Annual Abbot Adventures.”

“Trademark pending.”

“You, me, a six-year-old with a suitcase full of Legos. What could go wrong?”

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him. “Everything.”

“Exactly,” he grins. “Perfect family vacation.”

Later, after you’ve both showered, after he’s poured you a glass of wine and rubbed your feet and claimed it was “medically necessary to assess swelling from travel,” you’re curled together in bed with the windows open to the night air.

Jack’s arm is around you, fingers resting on your stomach again. Always that same spot. Like he’s waiting. Or willing.

You place your hand over his.

“You really want another?” you ask, voice soft.

“I want whatever you want,” he says.

You don’t respond right away, “You’d be a great girl dad.”

He snorts. “God help me if she’s anything like you.”

“Smart, stubborn, charming?”

“Dangerous,” he says. “too smart, perfect.”

You smile. “You’re already soft. You’d fold the second she looked at you.”

“Don’t tell Beau.”

You laugh, and the sound is easy. Real. Everything feels easy tonight.

And it hits you again—like it’s the first time.

You’re married. To him.

[deesseshesca]

PAC : Moving in with them (18+)

(SINGLE SINCE BIRTH - ERA ~6)

Hiatus FUCKING OVER !

PILE 1

5 wands, Page wands

How will it be ? 

Hey babes … How are u ? Another night spent in insomnia… one would think that with all that overthinking you would live an amazing life yet you only look drained. Almost as if that is the point … xoxo. Now let’s dive into your reading, living with them is going to be very passionate. 

A lot of displays of affection, a lot of touching and a lot of teasing. Morning cuddles, bad breath kisses, back hugging while cooking breakfast, teasing them with your booty short when they comeback from work or them running a bath for you so they can dive in it (iykyk) and constant fucking hugging. Don't get me wrong since I am diving into a relationship, I know it is going to be cheesy but y’all are pussing it in my visions. ALWAYS HUGGING, KISSING OR TOUCHING IN ALL THE WAY POSSIBLE. Had to turn around and look for the camera crew because it looks like y’all are filming some kind of romcom. Lets not forget the eye contact, all I could think was : ‘’Just fuck already…’’ before I realize I am the one out of place. Don't yell at me, I am getting out of your way babe. Not to mention the beautiful friendship y’all have. You be roasting each other on the low for the fuck of it. You have a TV show you watch everyday together and no cheating or that is going to be a  problem … lol. You guys may be both obsessed with legos, you with the flowers one and them with the Star Wars one. You guys get really excited to spend y’all grown money on childish things together. Get even eager about basic shit like walking together or even grocery shopping because as long as y’all are together everything is worth it. 

How will it feel ? 

Y’all are going to keep the spark alive. Y’all are never settling the relationship or even taking the other for granted. Is not because you pay bills, you have to deal with changing lights or even putting furniture together that you are not lustfully in love. You would go on dates often. Is not because y’all are home together everyday that you dont deserve to go on dates. You will still put effort in your looks. Doing your hair, nails and keeping up with the shaving and lingerie to please your men. That does not mean you can not rock a bush and an amazing Adam Sandler outfit at home without him being turned on. You genuinely put in the work to make each other happy. They will help with house chores even tho you actually enjoy doing them because they want to show you  that they care and see the work that you are doing around the house. You cook and they do the dishes. Even the simple act of you taking a bath, they would probably be sitting beside you,  laptop on their lap answering some emails. At the end of the day both of you understood that it takes effort to show love  the proper way to your partner. 

PS: They love when you are busy doing your own thing around the house it turns them on. You are cooking while they are  probably just yapping beside you, having a hard on or getting wet. You are moping around the house while they are playing video games, they are having a hard on. You do your hair and makeup in the morning and they just start hoping they dont get hard. Is almost like  seeing you acting in a domestic setting with them is making them more horny. 

PREVIOUS READING

2. PAC (FREE ) : PAC : Why are they grateful for your existence ? (I know I said no more free but I love y'all 2 much)

3. COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : BLOSSOM.

PLZ, if you have any ideas of topic regarding this playlist share it with me (comments, dm or inbox ... thx babe)

PILE  2

4 pentacles, 9 pentacles (reverse) 

How is it going to be ? 

Hey Chérie d’Amour ! How has life been lately ? Good … You sure. If life has been that good why are you spending it daydreaming. Is ok, maybe everything is too overlearning right now but it is not by hiding behind your maladaptive fantasy that your reality will get any better. Don't rush, take a deep breath, I am sure you have all the power in you to find your way out of that situation.

For now, let's dive into what's good awaiting you when you are brave enough to deal with reality. When you eventually move in with the love of your life, nothing will really change. Before you move out, they may be very protective and possessive over you. They don't like it when other eyes wander over you. They will never ask you to change because they enjoy your creativity and love seeing you feeling comfortable enough with your body to wear your risky outfit. Knowing how really insure you feel sometimes in your skin. Yet it does not stop them to death stare every fucking persorn laying yes upon you. They need you location on all the time. Every time they dont get to drive you around they must know who is with you and if you are safe. Honestly you love it , because often you grew up and nobody would pay attention to you. Often people would joke and say their only friend is their parents but for you it has been like this since elementary school. It's like you don't exist. People at work can go months without knowing your name and in some fuck up way  some people dont even know your existence while literary sitting right beside you. You never thought you really matter, you were sure that if you die it would not change a fucking thing. Until him, all the way he deals with you makes you feel very seen. Living together they may even throw baby tantrums because all they want to do is spend time with you. They may have a 20 minute alarm before they real alarm so they remember to cuddle you before starting to get ready for work. They may even try to invite you to boy night just to be with you. They will often want to cuddle you while he plays video games. Dont worry I dont see you giving up on yourself to please their little bratty needs. Them pouring into you is actually going to make you go after what you want in life. I see you are going to meet your soul tribe after them, your grades will improve or you will find a better job after him because you are not going to be scared to ask for more from life anymore. 

How is it going to feel ?

A bad bitch is born. I know I am supposed to focus on your couple but all I see is you. You are going to be so much more independent when you are going to be living with them. You may actually get your driver license which is weird because rn you may have driving anxiety. You may enroll in a hobby like pilates, yoga or even pole dancing. Your calendar is so much more busy. You pour so much more into you. You eat with no shame, you dress how the fuck you want, you create and enforce bounderies regarding the respect people should give you. Damm I am not a fan of the rhetoric that love heals because I believe that you should be your own healer. I don't think they healed you because to meet them you need to get out of your own way but them pouring into you  gives you enough strength to finally look at the glass with no shame and see all your potential. 

PS : I don't know if y’all care but the message came through. They have a circumsized dick. No extra skin with that one…lol. 

PREVIOUS READING

2. PAC (FREE ) : PAC : Why are they grateful for your existence ? (I know I said no more free but I love y'all 2 much)

3. COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : BLOSSOM.

PLZ, if you have any ideas of topic regarding this playlist share it with me (comments, dm or inbox ... thx babe)

PILE 3 

 Knight pentacles, 10 cups

How will it be like ? 

How are y’all doing babies? Don't worry … no need to grab your pearls. I come here in peace and with good news. Whatever manifestion you did recently weather you did a whole spell work or just wish upon the star that shit is coming in fucking quickly ! Congrats babes ! Now let's dive into more good stuff. 

To begin with I think you are going to move in together with bigger commitment than the other piles. There's a high chance that y’all are going to be engaged. Also I think whoever you are moving in next … you are going to marry them. You may also get pregnant in that apartment. To add, after marriage, y’all are going to build your dream house not actually buy it . Going back to baby… you know what is the best part of it … MAKING IT ! A shit y’all going to have a whole lot of sex. Damm when you are ovalating the house is transforming into a sex dangeon, like you can even fuck 2 to 3 time a fucking day. I mean you fucking everywhere. On the sofa, the bed, in the hallway, in the closet, on the kitchen counter … does not matter. Like is not fucking enough, it take nothing to set the fire between y’all. Just one intense eye contact or your hands barely caressing each other and  you are on it. Fucking like animals going as far as pushing anything on your way. That being said stability is going to be a key element in y’all relationship. You guys are serious about making it in this fuck up economy. You want the house and the kids. You will invest together, save  and meet with a specific financial advisor so they can help you sort out the best assurance. You will have cars and save every year for a couple trips. You will have meetings in the dining room or living room discussing your fiance and doing weekly check ups to make sure to keep y’all motivated and to keep y’all in  line. If you have a couple goals surring eating better and moving more the whole house is going to reflect it. With vegetables and everything free ingredients filling up the fridge and pantry. 

How will it feel ? 

You are going to feel seen. You are going to feel like you matter. Is the way they can spend hours staring at you. Is the way they go to the store and buy products made for you curls because one day while you were pillow talking you complained about your curls being dry and not juicy. Took upon their own hand to actually research about good products. Is the way you have fresh flowers every 2 weeks without asking. Is the way they do you cup of coffee every morning or bring you a snack when you stay up late on an assignment. I can go on and on but to sum it up, you are fulfilled by the effort they put out to make sure you FEEL love. 

PS : They may be quite submissive in the bedroom. They whimper more than grunts or groan (or whatever noise men are making). They love being your good boy and also enjoy obeying your orders in the bedroom. Not in a BDSM way, more in a natural sexual power play in the bedroom. Also love to please you and worship you. 

PREVIOUS READING

2. PAC (FREE ) : PAC : Why are they grateful for your existence ? (I know I said no more free but I love y'all 2 much)

3. COLLECTIVE READING (FREE) : BLOSSOM.

PLZ, if you have any ideas of topic regarding this playlist share it with me (comments, dm or inbox ... thx babe)

[maidragoste]

Scare

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

More of Daemon's Wife AU

Summary: You and Daemon get a scare at Laenor's wedding.

Reblogs, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 💖💖

If you have ideas or thoughts for this series you are welcome to share them in my inbox 🤭

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

Daemon is not usually afraid, after all, he is a Targaryen, he has the blood of the dragon, he is "The Rogue Prince", he claimed Caraxes, he fought in tourneys, he was the leader of the golden cloaks and he fought in the war of the Stepstones. A fearful man couldn't do any of that.

But today he really felt afraid at Laenor's wedding. One moment he was talking to his cousin Rhaenys and then the screams were heard. Both of them quickly went on alert and Daemon began to look around the room for you because minutes before you had left the table to dance with one of your cousins. But the prince couldn't find you. Daemon couldn't remember ever feeling so desperate as he tried to get through the crowd of guests to get to you. Irritation grew in him every time someone bumped into him making it harder to find you. Then he finally saw you and got to the reason for all the fuss. Criston Cole was hitting your brother's lover without stopping and a few meters away you were. Daemon saw the determination in your eyes and began to call out to you, but you didn't hear him over the screams of the other guests or you decided to ignore him as you made your way to Criston Cole. You were barely able to hold on to one of the guard's arms before he pushed you away and you ended up on the floor. If it wasn't for Daemon's fear of you and the baby then he would have gone and cut off Criston Cole's fucking head for daring to touch you. But at that moment your husband's priority was the safety and well-being of you and the baby so he took you in his arms and carried you out of that damn wedding while you screamed for Laenor and Joffrey.

Now Daemon and you were alone in his chambers, the maester having left a few minutes ago after assuring the two that the baby was fine.

“I’m fine” you reminded your husband as he remained silent, probably thinking of everything that could have gone wrong. “We’re fine” you took his hand and placed it on your belly despite the baby not kicking yet.

Daemon caressed your belly before leaning down to place a kiss on it, thanking his son for being strong. “You were reckless” he scolded you, turning his attention back to you.

“I was,” you agreed, feeling guilty for not thinking about the baby, but at that moment, all you could think about was helping your brother and Joffrey. You couldn’t stand by and watch them get beaten. But the adrenaline of the moment was wearing off and you were starting to feel overwhelmed by the situation you were in. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to put our baby in danger.”

Daemon’s serious expression fell the instant he saw your eyes begin to fill with tears. If there was one thing he hated, it was seeing you cry.

“Hey, don't cry.” He took your face in his hands and began to tenderly caress your cheeks. “You said it, you're fine and you heard the maester, the baby is fine.” He kissed your forehead. “But if you're so worried about putting yourself and the baby in danger again, then I could lock you in our chambers until you give birth.” Of course he wasn't serious, but he succeeded in his purpose of distracting you.

“Of course you'd like to do that, you want to have me just for you.” A small smile appeared on your lips as you spoke.

“I'm not going to deny it, you know I don't like sharing you with the rest of the world, wife.”

You didn't know if it was Daemon or you who was the first to capture the other's lips. But it didn't matter, what mattered was that for a moment while you kissed and touched each other you were able to forget about the scare you experienced. Daemon and you took refuge in each other's warmth, ready to not let the night end bitterly.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @jacesvelaryons

@aemondwhoresworld @cassiopeiablogg-blog

[harknessxo]

Prompt to a request (if it is okay) 🫶

Agatha and innocent fem reader+ corruption kink

Reader hasn't even had her first kiss and Agatha teaches her how to tongue kiss and so much more(fingering and magic strap)

Breeding kink as well plsss

Neighborly Desires

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Warnings; dubcon, corruption kink, enchanted strap, fingering, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving), breeding kink, dummification.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox since DECEMBER of 2023…I am extremely sorry but I hope this makes up for it. 😅

You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She watched you struggle to carry the boxes back and forth from your car to your living room and grinned. You were wearing a cute little pink dress and she couldn’t help herself.

“Hiya hon! Do you need some help with that?” You heard a friendly voice from behind you. You swiftly turned around to look at the woman, almost dropping the boxes.

“Careful, there, sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself,” Agatha chuckled, taking a box from you.

“T-thank you,” you blushed, slightly embarrassed at your clumsiness. She helped you put the boxes inside your house before turning towards you.

“I’m Agatha, your neighbor to the right,” she smiled at you kindly, stretching her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n,” you shook her hand, longer than intended, “And thank you so much for helping me with those boxes. Would you like something to drink?” You offered not knowing what else to say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Y/n...” she tasted your name on her tongue, “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Tea would be wonderful.”

“Alright, just give me a second until I find my cups,” you chuckled nervously and disappeared into your kitchen. Agatha walked to your living room and sat down. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She waited patiently for you to finish up, thinking of all the things she had planned for you.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot where I packed everything. I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body,” you joked as you handed Agatha her tea.

“Thank you, hon,” she took a sip, “So, what brings you here?” She asked, curious on how a girl like you ended up in this shitty town.

“Well this was my mother’s home and she passed away a few weeks ago so decided to move in.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she held your hand, gently running her thumb over your knuckles.

“No, it’s okay. We weren’t really close and I wanted a new start.”

“Well if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door, alright sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah,” you blushed at the nickname and she grinned. You two talked for a little while longer before you bid her goodbye and continued unpacking your things. Agatha walked home with a smirk on her face. You were too cute for your own good and she knew she was going to have fun with you. The fact that you were alone in this town was a bonus.

Days passed, and her visits became more frequent, her presence becoming very comforting. Somehow many things started to break inside your home and Agatha always seemed to be there to help. She was slowly gaining your trust and finding how truly innocent you were. You hadn’t even had a boyfriend before, how adorable could you possibly get? Yet beneath her warmth and sweet reassurances, a cunning plan took shape. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Agatha now stood next to you in your kitchen. She had offered to help you cook dinner with the excuse she didn’t want you to eat all alone. She made sure to put her hands on your waist and press her front against your ass every time she walked past you. You, of course, didn’t think anything of this, too oblivious to think badly of Agatha’s touchy behavior. She couldn’t help but tease you a little more. She leaned in close to your ear and whispered.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“T-thank you…” you tried to hide your flushed face and she chuckled.

“Why don’t you go clean up while I make the table?” Agatha said as you were finishing up.

“Okay!” You obediently took your apron off and started walking to your bathroom to clean up.

“Good girl~,” she said under her breath but just loud enough for you to hear, making you flush once again.

You quickly went in, washed your hands, and fixed your hair. While you were in the bathroom, Agatha debated whether or not she should put a spell on you so she could take you right then and there but she wanted to take her time with you. By the time you walked out, Agatha had the table set up beautifully. There were candles and rose petals on the table. It was almost like a romantic dinner. How did she do this so quickly?

“Agatha, this looks beautiful.”

“Just like you,” she complimented you, booping your nose.

“Thank you, Aggie.” You recently started calling her that. Agatha didn’t seem to mind the newfound nickname, in fact, she loved it.

“Of course, darling.” She pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit down. She was such a gentleman. You were completely oblivious to her true intentions.

You both sat down and ate dinner. Agatha asked you all kinds of questions, she wanted to know every little detail about you. What made you blush, what made you upset, what made you cry, what made you break. You answered all the questions, not thinking anything of it, and asked some yourself. You liked Agatha, more than you actually thought. God, you were so naive.

Eventually, you both finished eating dinner and she helped you clean the dishes. She always found a way to touch you even if it was just touching your hand when you passed her a plate or spoon to dry off. She saw the slight tint on your cheeks when she did.

"We should do this more often, don’t you think?” Agatha asked, her voice carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place.

“I would love that!” You said happily. Agatha smiled, her eyes seemed to glint in the candlelight. After you were done doing the dishes Agatha started gathering her things to go home but you stopped her.

“Can you stay and watch a movie with me?” You asked, not wanting for her to leave yet.

“I think it’s a bit late, sweetheart,” she said, wanting to hear you beg for her to stay.

“Pretty please?” You grabbed her hands in your, caressing her knuckles with your thumbs, giving her your best puppy eyes. Agatha pretended to think about it, a sly smirk on her face. You were just so cute, how could she possibly say no to you?

“…fine, I’ll stay, but not too late. You need to go to bed soon, deal?”

“Deal!” you said, excitedly, pulling her towards your couch. She sat back while you picked the movie, settling for Tangled, it was your favorite comfort movie. After you started playing the movie, you sat next to Agatha, subconsciously snuggling to her side. She smiled as you snuggled against her. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

“Is this your favorite movie, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!”

“Who’s your favorite character?” Agatha asked, combing through your hair.

“Mother Gothel,” you mumbled.

“Mother Gothel, huh?” she raised an eyebrow, “Why her? She’s the villain of the story.”

“I don’t know…” you frowned slightly, “I just like her character I guess…”

“Hmm. If I were Mother Gothel and I kidnapped you into my tower, what would you do?” she half joked.

“I would never leave.” You smiled at her. Agatha was very pleased with your answer and pulled you closer.

The movie went on and by the time it was over, you were fast asleep on Agatha’s shoulder. You looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, Agatha wanted to take you right then and there but no, she had to hold herself back. She picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently placing you on your bed. She tucked you in before leaning into your ear.

“You will be mine.” Was all she said before leaving to go back home.

—

Over the passing weeks you had gotten attached to Agatha, almost obsessively. Maybe it was her caring nature or your mommy issues coming to bite you in the ass. You were sitting on your couch with Agatha once again. She had picked the movie this time, telling you it was a surprise. She started playing the movie and you soon found out it was titled Carol. You had never seen it before but curled into Agatha’s side, wanting to feel her warmth.

The movie was good and all until the motel scene. Watching as Carol and Therese started kissing and touching each other made your core feel warm. Agatha noticed the way you were trying to hide your flushed face and how your thighs clenched together and smirked. She had you exactly where she wanted you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you cold?” she asked, pulling you closer, placing her hand on your thigh.

“I’m f-fine,” you stuttered out, unconvincing. She chuckled and gently started rubbing your thigh. Her touch was so warm and comforting, it made you want to melt against her. She moved even closer, cupping your face to make you look at her.

“You’re trembling, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I-” you realized how close your faces were, noses almost touching, “Aggie-” she finally crashed her lips against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring how soft her lips were until you pulled away, looking away from her. She smirked at your reaction, enjoying how flustered you were. She gently turned your face to look at her again.

“Sweetheart? Did you not like it?”

“No! I loved it, it's just that…I don’t know how to…” you trailed off, embarrassed.

“Aw, such a dumb baby,” she cupped your face, “You’re so naive and innocent you don’t even know how to kiss. How cute.”

“Wha-” She pressed her finger against your lips, shutting you up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Just follow my lead. I promise you will love it,” you hesitantly nodded and she kissed you again, this time moving her lips against yours and you did the same. She poked her tongue between your lips and you opened your mouth to let her in. You did your best, following her lead and moving your lips and tongue like her. Agatha moved her hand to squeeze your thighs, sliding them closer to your soaked core making you squeal and pull away.

“Agatha I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she pulled you into her lap, your thighs on either side of her legs, “Let mommy do the thinking.” You frowned slightly at her comment but then she pressed her fingers against the wet patch on your panties, making you lose any train of thought you had.

“You’re so wet baby,” she started rubbing her fingers over your clothed clit, “Is that all for me?” she asked, her other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Hmph…” You unconsciously moved your hips against her hand.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” she commanded, pressing harder against your clit, the pressure sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“Yes…”

“That’s a good girl.” She growled, moving your panties aside to touch your bare core directly, her fingers sliding between your folds. You gasped at the new feeling. You had never felt like this before. You’ve never touched yourself let alone have sex.

“So innocent…” She said before shoving two fingers inside of you. You were so tight, so warm, so wet for her. She pumped her fingers in and out of you, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” She praised you.

“Aggie-” you clung to her, wrapping your arms around her neck while she worked on fucking your with her fingers. Her other hand started to sneak under the thin dress you were wearing, finding that you weren’t wearing a bra at all.

“Not wearing a bra?” she pinched your nipple, “What a naughty girl…” You whimpered in response, making her chuckle. She pinched your nipple again, she started biting your neck leaving a trail of marks on your skin. She added a third finger, her thumb circling your clit faster than before and then suddenly stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined desperately.

“Such a needy girl,” she picked you up like you weighed nothing and carried you upstairs like she had done before. She took you to your bedroom and sat you on your bed.

She took your dress off, throwing it elsewhere and started undressing as well. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She smirked as she looked at your surprised expression.

“Like what you see, darling?” She pushed you back against the bed and climbed on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist.

“W-wait-” You started to hesitate.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” She gently caressed your cheek, looking into your eyes with a soft expression. Her strap was pressing against your core and she started rubbing it against you.

“It’s going to feel so good,” she pressed the tip of the strap into your entrance, “I’ll be gentle, okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head.

She slowly pushed the strap further inside your warm wall, watching as your mouth made an ‘o’ shape and your brows frowned in pleasure. She let out a low groan as the strap went further inside, your pussy greedily clenching around it. Her eyes roaming over your body, watching every little expression you made.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well,” she said most out of breath.

“M-mommy-” She almost lost the little control she had left when you finally called her mommy, feeling a rush of pleasure run through her body. God she was going to finally make you hers. Agatha’s grip on your hips tightened as she began to thrust into you, slowly at first, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it.

“Oh, you like calling me that don’t you, darling?” She grunted.

“Mhm!” You nodded your head. She smirked and began to pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder into you. She leaned down and began kissing your neck, leaving more marks as she went. Her hands roamed over your body, squeezing and pinching every inch of your skin.

“Such a good girl, taking mommy’s strap so well…you’re mine.” Agatha finally said out loud. She continued to ramble on, as she thrusted into you. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, making you completely helpless beneath her.

“No one else gets to see you like this. You’re all mine. Fuck- I’m never letting you go.” Your brain had turned to mush and all you could do was chant a bunch of yeses as she snapped her hips at a brutal pace. Agatha loved how incoherent you were becoming. She loved how easily she could reduce you to a moaning mess. She began to talk to you in a soft voice, praising and mocking you at the same time.

“Look at you. Such a babbling mess. Mommy’s little dumb slut. Isn’t that right? All mine?”

“Yes! All yours!” Your voice trembled as you got closer to the edge, your orgasm building up.

“That’s right,” she moved one of her hands from your wrists to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, “You’re all mine, and you’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?”

You tried to reply but instead let out a loud sob, tears running down your rosy cheeks from the pleasure you felt. Agatha leaned down and kissed your tears away, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased your release.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart. Agatha moaned as she felt your walls clench around her, sloppily helping you ride out your orgasm as best as she could as she held onto your trembling legs.

“Fuck- I’m going to fill you up nice and full of my cum, baby, you’re going to be all mine.” She came, moaning loudly as she spilled her hot seed deep inside you. She gave you a few more thrust before pulling out, making you whine in protest at how empty you felt. Her hand on your wrists loosened and she looked down at you with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“There we go…Good girl. You did so well for me, baby. So perfect,” she started kissing down your body, “Now mommy’s gonna clean you up…” She finally let go of your wrist, putting your legs together and bending them against your chest, your pussy now completely exposed to her. She used her fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. She watched as her cum leaked out of you and almost moaned at the sight.

“God look at how messy you are…” she leaned down and ran her tongue over your entrance, licking up her own cum. She lapped at your sensitive core, moaning at the taste of the two of you combined, “You taste so good, baby.”

You squirmed against her mouth, your pussy already too sensitive. Agatha chuckled and wrapped her arms around your thighs, holding you in place as she continued to eat you out. She was going to make sure you were completely clean.

“Stay still, honey. Mommy’s not done with you yet.”

“But it h-hurts-” She looked up at you with a mocking expression.

“I know it hurts, baby. That’s why you’re going to be a good girl and take it, isn’t that right?”

She nipped at your inner thigh before diving back down between your legs. You reluctantly nodded, letting her lap over your puffy folds and sucking on your clit. She moaned against your clit, enjoying the taste of your juices. She swirled her tongue around it before sucking on it again, pulling it into her mouth and teasing it with her teeth.

“Mmmm…there we go,” she kissed your clit before letting go of your legs, “All done.” She pulled you into a kiss, shoving her tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. You whined against her lips, finding it hard to keep up. She just chuckled and pulled away.

“Come on, baby. Let’s give you a bath.” She started picking and you absolutely melted into her. She set you on the bathroom counter while she filled the bath. You simply watched her as she put bubbles in the bath and made sure the water was at a good temperature.

Once the bath was ready, she gently picked you up and lowered you into the warm water. She sat behind you, letting you lean against her chest. She began washing your body with a soft washcloth, making sure to be extra gentle with you. When she got close to your core, you stiffened slightly, still sensitive from your orgasm and her tongue. She chuckled softly, noticing your reaction.

“Aww, is my baby still sensitive?” She pressed her fingers against your clit. You tried to swat her hand away and clench your thighs together but she took your wrist and held them against your chest while using her own legs to keep yours open.

“Just give mommy one more orgasm and we’ll be all done, okay?” She said, already playing with your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

“It hurts mommy…” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you can do it,” she continued to tease your clit, rubbing it faster and harder, “Don’t you want to make mommy proud?”

“Y-yes-” she smiled and rewarded you by letting go of your wrist and wrapping her free hand around your throat, gently squeezing it.

“That’s my good girl. Keep being good for mommy and I’ll make you feel so good, okay?” The pain finally turned into pleasure and your body pathetically melted to Agatha’s once again. Her grip on your throat tightened slightly making you light headed.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this, darling. All weak and pathetic. You’re mine to use however I want, aren’t you?” She slipped two fingers inside you, making you mewl like a dog in heat.

“I’m close!” You moaned as she nibbled on your earlobe before whispering in your ear.

“Good. Come for me, baby. Come for mommy one more time and I’ll let you rest.” Your hands clung to the hand that was still tightly wrapped around your neck for dear life as you came again. Agatha grinned, loving the way you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. How pathetic and adorable.

She kept her hand around your neck, slowly applying pressure as you came. Once you came down from your high, she loosened her grip and rubbed your neck softly, admiring the redness she left behind.

“That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you,” she soothed you, combing through your wet hair until the water in the bath became cold. She got out first, getting a towel for you before helping you out.

She gently wrapped you the towel, setting you down on the counter once again to brush the knots out of your hair. Once she was done, she wrapped the towel around you tighter and lifted you, cradling you in her arms like a small child.

“It’s time to go to sleep, my sweet girl. You must be so tired huh?” she sat you down in the bed while she went to get you some pj. She made sure to be quick noticing how droopy your eyes looked. She came back a moment later with some soft, silk pajamas for you. She gently dressed you in them before tucking you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Comfortable, Angel?”

“Aren’t you going to stay, Aggie?” Agatha smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course, I am, darling. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, sweetheart. You’re mine, I’m not going anywhere. Now get some sleep.”

[verricherri]

you call and i arrive ma cherié 🍒❣️ have a couple random requests that so will spam your inbox teehee, no pressure to write tho! <3

reader gets her menstrual cup "stuck" and panics, she doesn't want spencer to help take it out but he does and fluff/smut ensues....

Just Breathe (NSFW // MDNI)

A/N: My biggest nightmare is my menstrual cup getting stuck and ending up in the ER like “hi hello I need professional help and zero eye contact.” BUT. here’s Spencer Reid — like the dream man he is. Warnings: If period talk isn’t your thing, feel free to skip, but personally? An orgasm a day keeps the cramps away Masterlist Feedback and reposts are appreciated  ☀️

You’ve been in the bathroom long enough to lose feeling in both feet and every last shred of dignity.

You’ve squatted, you’ve breathed, you’ve tried to “relax” like the forums say — but your damn menstrual cup won’t budge. It’s stuck. Like emotionally-attached kind of stuck. And the longer you try, the more you spiral.

Which is exactly when you hear it.

“Babe?”

You freeze.

Spencer’s voice is gentle, just outside the door.

“You okay in there?” “…Yeah,” you croak. “Fine.”

Pause.

“You’ve been in there twenty-three minutes. That’s 8.5 minutes longer than your average shower plus oral hygiene routine.” You groan. “Stop with the stats, Reid.” “You don’t sound fine,” he says. “You sound… frustrated.”

You lean your forehead against your palm. There’s no saving this.

The door cracks open. You poke your head out.

Spencer’s in plaid pajama pants and a worn Caltech t-shirt, hair sleep-mussed, eyes full of concern.

“…My cup’s stuck,” you admit. He blinks. “What kind of cup—oh.” You give him a look. “Yeah. That one.” “Okay,” he says simply, like you just told him you misplaced your keys. You shuffle awkwardly. “I’ve been trying. My hand’s cramping. My uterus is staging a revolt. I feel like a goddamn Tupperware container.” “Suction lock,” he nods, already processing. “Happens when the rim seals too high near the posterior fornix. Add muscle tension, it’s like trying to pull a plunger off a mirror.”

You stare.

“…Why do you know that?” “Because I love you. And because I wanted to understand everything that affects you — not just emotionally, but physically. So I learned."

You snort despite yourself.

He leans in, voice soft.

“Do you want help?” You blink. “Help… how?” “I wash my hands. You lie back. I find the rim and release the seal. No big deal.” Your face is on fire. “That is absolutely a big deal.” “Not to me,” he says. “To me, it’s anatomy. And you. And the fact that you trust me enough to ask.” You hesitate. Then: “Okay. But if this gets weird—” “We stop the moment you say.”

---

Spencer washes his hands like he’s prepping for surgery. Thorough. Focused. You catch yourself watching him — the way water glides over his wrists, the roll of his sleeves, the precision of those impossibly long fingers.

He glances at you in the mirror. “You’re staring.” “Just… mentally preparing.” “I’ve delivered a child in less-than-ideal conditions,” he says with a tiny smile. “Helping you with this? I promise — it’s not even remotely uncomfortable.” You nod. A breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

You’re on the closed toilet lid, towel wrapped around your hips, heart pounding in your ears.

Spencer kneels in front of you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Scoot forward. And try to relax your pelvic floor — think melting butter, not steel door.” You bark a nervous laugh. “Do you flirt like this at the BAU?” “That wasn’t— I wasn’t trying to flirt. I just wanted you to have a helpful visual.” Then, after a beat, quieter: “But… if it helps, I don’t say things like that to anyone else.” He glances up again. “Still good?” You nod. “Alright. I’m going to feel for the base. Tell me if anything hurts.”

You take a shaky breath. And when his fingers make contact — warm, steady, gentle — you almost forget how anxious you were.

“Tilt your hips a little. Good. The seal’s strong. No wonder you couldn’t get it.” “I told you—” “Shh. You’re doing amazing.”

His voice is low, focused, soothing. And when he finally releases the seal and eases the cup out, you actually sigh in relief.

He doesn’t toss it.

He rinses it.

You stare as he rinses the cup at the sink — gentle, thorough, not even slightly grossed out. He’s handling it like it’s just another lab instrument. Like it’s normal. Like you are normal.

He turns the tap off and dries it carefully before setting it back in its little container. Then he looks over his shoulder, casual as ever.

“You're supposed to wash it with warm water and mild soap after removal to avoid bacterial contamination. You can also boil it between cycles, or use a 70% isopropyl solution, but it depends on the brand, and—” He cuts himself off. “Sorry. You probably know all that.” You blink at him. “No, I mean—yes, but… you’re doing it like it’s second nature.” He shrugs, drying his hands. “I’ve read before. Menstrual products. Pelvic floor tension. Cervical positioning—” You tilt your head, amused. “Spencer.” “Right. Sorry. I just meant... you shouldn’t be the only one who understands your body. I care about you, so I learned.”

That hits you right in the chest.

“I think I just fell in love with you again.”

He blinks, caught off guard. Then gives you that soft, lopsided smile that ruins you every time.

“Are you still cramping?” You nod. “A little.”

He sits beside you, drying his hands again — mostly to keep them busy.

“There’s a statistically significant link between orgasm and pain relief, particularly during menstruation. It’s the oxytocin — it spikes during orgasm, which helps reduce the release of prostaglandins, which are the primary cause of uterine contractions and cramping.” You raise a brow. “Spencer.” “Also dopamine and endorphins. Plus, the muscle contractions during orgasm help relax the uterus post-release, which—sorry. I’m rambling.” “I’m not complaining.” “Okay, good, because—” he breathes in, grounding himself “—I could get your heating pad. Or… I could use my fingers. Only if you want.” “You’re prescribing it?” “No,” he says seriously. “Prescriptions come with dosing requirements and side effects. This is just… a suggestion. Based on research. And love.”

You stare at him.

He fidgets. “Was that weird? That was weird.” You shake your head, smiling. “It was very you.” “Then I’m glad,” he murmurs, finally settling beside you. “Because I really, really want to help you feel better.”

You nod, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to melt.

He stands, then pauses.

“Would a warm shower help first? Before… anything else.” You glance up. “Yeah. That actually sounds good.” “Okay. Yeah. I’ll, uh—set the temperature.”

You watch as he turns toward the shower, rolling up his sleeves instinctively, even though they’re coming off. He adjusts the knobs, testing the water with the back of his hand like he’s handling evidence.

“Too hot can increase blood flow,” he murmurs. “But if it’s comfortable, it can also relieve muscle tension.”

Then he looks at you — and there’s something so gentle in the way he says:

“Do you want help with…?” You nod again. Quietly. “Yeah.”

He moves slow, untying the towel around your hips like it’s something sacred. Then he peels off his shirt — awkwardly, like it’s a crime scene hoodie — and drops his flannel pants next.

When you’re both bare, he offers his hand again.

“Come on,” he says softly. “Let me help you feel better.”

The water steams behind him.

And this time, when you step in together, it’s not just for relief.

It’s for all the things you’ve never let anyone else see — and all the ways he shows you he’s safe to be seen.

---

The water hits your back. The steam rises. But it’s his fingers on your stomach that make your body melt.

“Still okay?” he murmurs behind you. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I’m going to use my fingers. Just me and you, and how you trust me.”

Your eyes flutter shut.

He turns you gently, back pressing to the tile. His hand cups your hip, the other sliding between your thighs.

“You’re bleeding a little,” he says softly. “You know I don’t care, right?” “I know.” “Good.”

Then he presses in.

Two fingers — slow, deep, and absolutely filthy. You gasp, eyes flying open.

“God—” “Not God,” he murmurs, “just your boyfriend.”

He starts to move.

Slow thrusts. Thumb circling your clit. His other hand presses to your stomach like he wants to anchor you to the earth.

“You’re already dripping,” he growls. “Not just the water — me. You want this so bad.”

You moan, hips grinding forward.

“That’s it. Fuck yourself on my fingers. Just like that. I’ve got you.”

You’re barely breathing. Every word makes it worse — better — everything.

“This is what you needed. Not a heating pad. Not ibuprofen. Me.”

He thrusts deeper.

“You think this changes anything? You think I don’t want you like this?”

“Spence—”

“I want all of you,” he says. “Messy. Bleeding. Soft. Loud. Ruined. Always.”

Your legs tremble. Your voice breaks.

“I’m gonna—”

“Cum for me. I’ve got you. Let go.”

And you do.

Your orgasm rips through you like a wave — sharp, overwhelming, perfect. You cry out, collapsing into him as your whole body shakes.

He doesn’t stop until your knees give out and he’s catching you.

Holding you.

Kissing your temple.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You’re so okay. You’re mine.”

[httpsleclerc]

the second date

pairings: Charles Leclerc x Single!Mom!Verstappen!Reader, Charles Leclerc x Romy Verstappen (BABY!OC)

summary: A peak into yours and Romy's second meeting with Charles

warnings: none for this part!

word count: 1.7k

a/n: I really love this little part I think its so cute! Let me know what you think by leaving a comment here or in my inbox!

series masterlist // main masterlist

The sun beamed down on Monte Carlo, an accurate symbol of how you had been feeling in the days since your first meeting with Charles. Talking to and with him, you felt like you could almost forget everything that had happened with Lukas - Almost. You were well aware that you would always have constant reminder of your ex, but that was in no way Romy's fault, you had spoken to Max and Kelly, proposing the idea to them that until or if she asked, you wouldn't tell your daughter about her father, and even then, depending on her age, you would only tell her the appropriate parts - That at some point he had been a good man, and that there came a point where you did what was best for her.

Max had laughed, saying that you were being too polite by calling Lukas a good man - Claiming that that would have been like calling Jos father of the year. Kelly had elbowed him after that, telling you that that sounded like a good plan.

You looked down, smiling at Romy as she curiously eyed all of the trees and greenery above her, giving you a gummy smile as she saw your face in her vision. You adjusted the umbrella to cover her face, protecting her sensitive skin from the harsh rays of the sun - You and Kelly had laughed as you asked Max if he could help you try and apply a layer of sunscreen onto Romy, which you two had known would be no easy feat. However, your older brother, seemingly the baby soother, had managed to apply not one, but two layers of heavy duty sunscreen onto your daughter.

"I see you, Romy," You spoke to her, fondly smiling as she babbled back to you. "Oh you're very talkative, I think you know who we're going to see." You said, scanning for the brunette Monegasque, waving over to him as you saw him sitting on a bench.

It had been Charles' idea to meet you in Romy in a more secluded park in a beautiful area of Monte Carlo, Max had told him that you would most likely need worked up to going to busier areas, especially with Romy. You had always been anxious, your older brother knew that better than anyone did, but he couldn't imagine how you would be feeling having been isolated for so long and going back into such busy environments, never mind adding the single most precious thing in your life into the mix. So, Charles had thought of the small, yet beautiful park that his parents had brought himself and his brothers to as children.

He was trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach he got when he saw you make your way over to him, smiling as he heard Romy babbling from within her stroller. He knew that it would be wrong to propose a relationship to you right now, considering the relationship you had just come out of - He understood if you just wanted to be friends for a bit, he loved both you and Romy too much to miss out on anything.

"Hello you two," He greeted you, a charming smile on his face. You had to admit, Charles was incredibly handsome, but you had always known him to be.

"Hi Charles, nice to see you again," You said cheerily, putting the brake on Romy's stroller so you could lift her out and on to your lap, settling down on the bench beside Charles. "You picked a beautiful day." You told him, smiling as you placed your daughter on your lap, letting her play with the rings on your fingers. 

"I know, you know my parents used to bring me and my brothers here? I thought that maybe it could be something we could do with Romy," He said, only to stumble over his words as you looked at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "Nono, I-I didn't mean like a date or anything like that...not that I don't want something like that with you! I think you're really pretty and Romy is the most perfect little girl and-...I am making a fool of myself, aren't I?" He held his head in hands, his cheeks heating up as he realised how much he had been rambling.

You giggled, placing your free hand on Charles' back as a means to try and comfort him. He looked up at you, a blush creeping over his cheeks as he made eye contact with you.

"I'd love to do this with you as a tradition, Charles, I um...I just don't think that I'm quite ready for anything more than friends right now," You told him - Charles was at least happy that you could be honest with him, instead of dating him out of pity for his inability to shut up. "I really like being friends with you, Cha, Romy loves you too. You really make me feel listened to, in a way that Max and Kelly don't really get - they look after Romy and I but you..you're different, but in a good way." You assured him, smiling as you ran your hand up and down his back.

As if sensing his sadness, Romy started wriggling in your arms, babbling as she reached for Charles, who immediately perked up as the small girl reached out for him.

"Can I?" You nodded, you loved how he asked before taking your daughter out of your arms. You softly smiled, seeing how content both him and your daughter were with each other - You had seen Charles in interviews, talking about he had wanted 3 children, you could see him outnumbered by girls, begging their daddy to do their hair and play princesses and tea parties. It was funny, you had never imagined yourself having kids, especially not one at 22, but now that you had Romy, you couldn't imagine your life without it, it felt like her being here with you, she completed you - She was your baby and you were her mother, nothing could ever, and would ever change that. "She's so cute, and I see that she let you put her socks on her this time." He recounted, making you laugh as you remembered the day that you had first met up with Charles, more specifically you remembered the 15 minute battle you had with Romy about putting her socks on.

"Max actually got her sorted for today, you would be surprised at how good he is with babies," Charles nodded - He, more than anyone, was probably most familiar with how you and Max were raised, so hearing you talk about how great that your older brother was with your daughter, was almost a shock; Two people who he had expected to want nothing to do with children, had become in closest contact with them, with you being a mother and Max having such a close bond with Penelope. "I'm going to go get something to drink, do you want anything?" You offered him with a smile, watching as Romy, who normally screamed and cried any time you left her, remained perfectly happy in Charles' arms.

"Just a water please, cherie," He responded, gently bouncing Romy on his knee as he watched you nod and walk away, over to the small concessions stand. "Such a pretty girl, aren't you Romy? Just like your mama." Charles spoke to the baby girl on his lap, grinning as she giggled and clapped her small hands together, babbling to him. He sighed as he sat back against the bench, Romy resting against him as she settled down - Charles was thankful he hadn't made a complete fool of himself, although disappointment did weigh on the fact that you weren't looking for a relationship at the moment; However, he understood, and would continue with your friendship.

You made your way back over to the bench where Charles and your daughter sat, Romy having settled against him, almost asleep on his chest. 

"Oh, she um...I think she's asleep, Charles," You said quietly, placing a hand on your daughter's small back. He looked down, noticing that Romy, had in fact, fallen asleep on him. He looked up at you, clearly never having had a baby fall asleep, judging by the almost bewildered look in his eyes. "It's okay, just relax, I'll put her in the stroller so she can sleep with the sun umbrella covering her." You told him, lifting your sleeping daughter off of his chest so he could move without fear of waking her. Making sure that she was in securely, you sat back down, handing Charles the water you had bought him.

"She's so calm, I don't think I've seen a baby sleep so much or fuss so little," You chuckled at Charles' thoughts on your daughter. "Uh oh, that tells me otherwise." He grinned, prompting you to tell him more.

"She's cute, but she uses it to her advantage. She's got her uncle Max wrapped around her little finger already, Kelly and I told him off the other day because she was being fussy because Max had a stroopwafell and she wanted some," You told him, smiling as you remembered the look on your brothers face as Kelly told him off, while you attempted to take the sweet treat out of your daughter's tight grasp. "Getting her onto solids has also been a nightmare, she's a fussy little monster sometimes."

"I bet you wouldn't change her for the world," Charles smiled fondly at you, watching as you studied your sleeping baby carefully. You shook your head, turning to look at the Monegasque once more.

"Absolutely not, I wish I could change her father, but the only plus from him was that he gave me her...my baby girl," You smiled widely, your heart beaming with nothing but adoration for the life that you created. He also smiled, watching you with the same adoration, even if you didn't share the sentiment right now, Charles was almost certain you shared the same feelings, and he would wait until you were ready.

<3

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[rhyrhy]

Professor Anderson

[a/n]: I literally couldn’t get this out my head, so I had a few headcannons for a fic later, where the idea came from!, short random blurb, suggestive-ish.

Professor Anderson, who loves her job.

Professor Anderson, who is always so patient. She replies to every email, text message, and phone call because she cares deeply about her students’ success!

She’s fully aware of her own appearance, who tolerates no fraternizing from her students—no flirting, no jokes, none of it. “You are here so I can teach you, nothing more, nothing less.”

She would never even look at a student below the neckline, loves eye contact. shows respect and that you are engaged in her material.

always has someone help her when she’s trying to present because she’s so bad with computers. The type to leave the YouTube video off full screen, unable to get the sound right until someone steps in to help.

Often forgets her glasses are on the collar of her shirt or the top of her head until someone calls it out, and it’s a short laugh every time. Just a little chuckle, followed by a soft, “I swear, I’ll never learn.”

Professor Anderson had always imagined she’d be married in the next few years but was okay with her own company. A framed picture of her loving canine sat on her desk, a constant companion who was always there for her, even when no one else was.

She never specifically says “wife” or “husband,” just “partner” when asked if she’s married. Yeah, probably wasn’t straight. She never felt the need to explain herself—just content with the way things were.

Professor Anderson always signs her webmails with:

————————————————-

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then, when you know better, do better.” — Maya Angelou

Abigail Anderson

Spanish, English

XXX-X-XX

Click to schedule an appointment | Classroom Padlet

She’s just such a sweetheart! So when you accidentally sent her a selfie to her work phone, she just replied:

She didn’t think much about the interaction after. Just a mix up.

Professor Anderson did notice how you held eye contact with her, head rested on your hand as you soaked up her every word. It made her smile. you liked her class. Liked her teaching you. So she did, she smiled at you a little, then turned her attention back to the board, going over the study material. But just for a moment, a smile that she quickly masked, focusing on the next point in her notes.

She would find herself enjoying the small back-and-forth on discussion boards, especially when classmate Emily corrected yours, laughing at the response.

You were her best student. So Bright. Always prepared. Always watching her so closely, like what she said mattered. So of course she opened your latest assignment ready to grade and be done for the day. Only to be greeted with another photo of yourself—less modest than usual.

Professor Anderson, who immediately closed her laptop. Heart racing against her ribs. She stared at the screen for a second too long before it went black, the image still burned into her mind. That wasn’t meant for her. Not at all. A slip-up, clearly. An accident.

Why would you even have something like that saved on your computer? Why had it ended up in her inbox? She ran a hand over her face, fingers brushing against the frames of her glasses perched on top of her head—forgotten again. She let out a shaky exhale and removed them, setting them gently on the desk like she was setting the moment down, trying to ground herself.

————————————-

Subject: Wrong File

Dear,___

I believe you may have attached the wrong document to your last message. Please double-check and resend when you have a moment.

Best,

Professor Anderson

—————————————————

She took a deep breath, taking off her glasses. You were gorgeous, yes. But that’s simply not a line she’d cross. She’s better than temptation. She wasn’t about to risk her career, her boundaries, or her principles just for a moment of fleeting attraction.

I NEED HER TO IMPREGNATE MEEE ?!