#immediately after going to post this I remember I had to change her hair

[menphinaswhitemage]

Scattering of Petals - Tamao Tomoe Encore

"Come rain or wind, we will keep our glimmer of hope alive and kindle it into a sparkling glow. I will protect our precious place."Eternal life is but a dream — a never-ending play is but an illusion. Destiny fickly burns, edging itself on the stage. Rinmeikan Performance Association — Tamao Tomoe! I will blossom until there's no life in me! "

[reiderwriter]

The Us That Could Have Been

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader

Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!

W/C: 5.7k

Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.

Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.

A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet. 

Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down. 

“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body. 

“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once. 

“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-” 

“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you. 

“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long. 

“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words. 

“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?” 

“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-” 

“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.” 

–X–

A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right. 

Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.

The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step. 

If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care. 

The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one. 

It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed. 

Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion. 

You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you. 

“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day. 

“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his. 

You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out. 

Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home. 

“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now. 

The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust. 

The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys. 

“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk. 

“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance. 

“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock. 

“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”

“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.” 

“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.

“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?” 

“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away. 

He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember. 

–X– 

“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead. 

“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time. 

Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day. 

“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them. 

Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions. 

“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?” 

“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it. 

He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway. 

When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.” 

JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women. 

“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it. 

“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…” 

“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue. 

“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession. 

“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed. 

“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.” 

They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued. 

“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”

“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?” 

“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”

JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them. 

“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around. 

“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.” 

The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you. 

“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.  

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued. 

“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.  

“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her. 

“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out. 

“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in. 

“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word. 

“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.  

“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-” 

“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.  

“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”

“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?” 

“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve. 

“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added. 

“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly. 

“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?” 

They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them. 

“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.

“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.” 

“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.  

“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.  

“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.” 

“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things. 

“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.  

He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.  

You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess. 

“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.  

“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen. 

“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.  

“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly. 

“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came. 

You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left. 

“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.  

“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.” 

–X– 

The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?

Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning. 

“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”

Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.  

“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.  

“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?” 

He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.” 

“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.  

“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.” 

He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly. 

“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said. 

“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.” 

“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time. 

–X– 

You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him. 

You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions. 

“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider. 

It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.  

You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies. 

He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed. 

“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin. 

“I love you, please don’t cry.” 

“I love you, you’re so beautiful.” 

“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again. 

“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him. 

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body. 

He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.  

“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again. 

“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another. 

Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time. 

“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again. 

He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes. 

“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied. 

“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively. 

“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly, 

“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question. 

“Why did you run away the other day?” 

“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”

“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far. 

“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself. 

“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.” 

“Y/N, please.” 

“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.” 

The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away. 

He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch. 

[buckysbabygorl]

Petty

Summary: Y/N is trying to prepare for her tests in the army, Joaquin offers to help her out but she has trouble focusing when a certain chaotic duo comes to the base. Without thinking, she takes things a little too far…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: mild language, Post-FATWS

Word count: 4.4K

Y/N struggled to weave through the crowd of scrambling cadets, getting thrown about in the mass of chaos.

She did not have time for this shit.

She sighed as another elbow blocked her path, popping her head above the crowd to look for Joaquin.

He had told her that he would be there after his briefing, promising that he would help with her exam practice questions.

Though she knew Joaquin would keep his promise; she worried. With all this -- whatever the hell it was -- going on, she doubted that she’d get enough peace and quiet to focus.

She didn’t have time for base drama; she needed to pass this or else she’d never make it into the SWORD program.

She refused to have her dream crushed by rambunctious wannabe soldiers; she was buckling down and passing this test. She would make sure of that.

Suddenly, a tuft of dark hair appeared over the heads of her fellow cadets.

Recognizing him anywhere; she prepared herself for shoving her way through.

“Excuse--sorry, excuse me--hey watch it! Excuse me, yep, right here--sorry.”

Hearing her voice, Joaquin turned and smiled.

He caught her as she stumbled in front of him, finally vacating the mass of people.

“Kind of a bad idea asking to meet me on base, don’t you think?” Joaquin joked.

She grumbled as she reached back to tighten her bun.

“I didn’t realize it would be a problem.” She said, looking back at the crowd. “What’s everyone freaking out about anyways?”

Joaquin smirked. Of course she wouldn’t remember. The girl had a one-track mind; with the stress of the written, nothing else was on her radar. Not even those two.

“We’ve got some A-listers on the base. People are hoping to get a glimpse.” He teased, being intentionally vague.

She scoffed at the idea of needing an autograph over an A.

“We have our written tomorrow; they’re wasting their time.” She thought aloud.

Placing a hand on her back, he ushered her through the jungle of recruits. “Don’t be snobby; people’s idols are here. I’d probably be doing the same thing back in my day”

“Back in your day?” She repeated, followed by a genuine laugh. “You’re only a few years older than me. Besides, I'm not being snobby; I’m being practical.”

Joaquin laughed loudly at her, but immediately stopped once he saw her face change.

“This is the rest of my life Joaquin. Take it seriously.”

His lip pulled at the bitter taste of regret on his tongue. He knew how much this meant to her. Years ago, during the disastrous effects of the blip, the program had encouraged upper year recruits to take newcomers under their wing. It was like a big brother program: and he had the fortune of being assigned to Y/N.

From the first day he met her, he knew she was different from the rest.

Yes, everyone wanted to be there. But there was something different in her ideology; she needed to be here. She studied harder than anyone he had ever met, she pushed herself well past her limits in physical training, she’d dedicated more time to this journey than anything else she had in her life.

To Y/N, this wasn’t a joking matter.

“Hey, I was just bugging you. I’m sorry—I’ll help you out.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she tried to calm herself, pushing through the double doors of the building and out into the quad. She held open the door for him, looking out at the recruits running the track.

A few of them had stopped to look out at something--or someone--out on the field, while other runners passed them by.

Y/N shook her head again; she was glad there were at least a few others still focused on training.

She wasn’t worried about her physical; in fact some of her superiors had gone out of their way to assure her that her physical definitely wasn’t an issue, which was most certainly bias reassurance on their parts and maybe somewhat not allowed.

But watching them made her anxious; she could multitask.. right?

“Quiz me while I do my fitness run through.” She demanded.

Joaquin sighed, “Seriously Y/N? Don’t push it. Besides, Lieutenant Johnson said your physical--”

He was cut off by the waving of her hands.

“You shush! I can handle some sit ups while you run questions past me. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again, Torres.”

He tried to argue, but she was already halfway across the track before his first word came out.

He spared a glance in their direction, recognizing the two from a distance.

He’d know that pair anywhere.

Anyone would.

He was just surprised that she hadn’t.

~

The targets were set up at a distance; all recruits were told to leave the west half of the field empty so there were no injuries, and minimal interference with the soldiers' training.

They would be giving a seminar on counter-terroirsm efforts when their other activities were completed; the base being reassured they would get a chance to meet the heroes at some point. Just not now.

Thank god, Sam thought.

Bucky had been in a mood the whole trip.

Things had lightened up with Barnes; their comradery came easier, he felt comfortable in Sam’s community. Things felt good again. This world had started to feel like home again.

But, everyone had their own form of baby steps.

Bucky was a good man, a good friend, but damn was he unapproachable.

If they were going to try to motivate this next generation of soldiers; Bucky needed to fix that.

Which he’d been lectured on over, and over, and over again.

Now he’d gone sour; his mind looping once again with self-doubt and frustration.

Then Sam started teasing him about getting laid.

Now Bucky felt like he was on the brink of a social meltdown.

“I’m just saying--” Sam quickly whipped the shield at the target.

The momentum pulled him back a little, but Bucky caught the ricochet with ease.

He studied his stance as his jaw set, tired of Wilson’s pestering.

“--you could be a little bit more nice to people. Friendly even! Leah was nice; and you mucked that up.”

Bucky’s mouth twitched with contempt, before he threw the shield back at the target.

The shield hit the bag at an angle, overshooting his second intended mark.

With a loud metallic echo, the shield tumbled into the grass and rolled back in front of them.

Sam raised a brow, “You’re off balance. How is that arm still weighing you down?”

“I’m not off balanced; I can’t focus because you won’t shut UP--”

~

“31..”

Clang

“...32...”

Clang

“...33--”

Clang

“Goddamnit.”

She sat up, Joaquin still holding onto her knees to support her as she looked out to the other side of the field.

“Do they really have to do that out here? We have a perfect target range inside for that.”

Joaquin suppressed a smile, “You really think our range can handle that thing?”

Her brow furrowed as she looked back at him, “What?”

Before he could answer, another loud crash of the shield interrupted him.

Y/N’s teeth grit together as she raised her hands, curling them into fists and cursing the Gods above.

“What the hell are they even throwing around?”

Joaquin’s jaw went slack at her obliviousness, “You seriously don’t know?”

“Should I?” She countered.

“Uh--yeah... that’s a piece of history right there.”

She looked at him in disbelief, “It’s a frisbee, Joaquin.”

“Oh my god. Next question.”

She was a dumbass. A smart dumbass, but a dumbass nonetheless. If she didn’t recognize them or their frisbee from fifty feet away then she was hopeless.

“Alright; explain your protocol for—“

With another throw, and a sudden clang, the two soldiers started yelling.

Joaquin could see the rage in her eyes as she moved to stand; “If they don’t stop I’m gonna say something.”

“Y/N, please don’t—”

He quickly pulled her back down, “Look, what they’re doing is really important. They’re a big deal, you can’t just--

“You know those guys?”

Joaquin bit the inside of his cheek; he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about his association with the past mission. Not until the paperwork was finalized and it became public knowledge.

“Well, yes but I can’t bring attention to them or engage them. They’re a pretty big deal.” He assured.

“Whatever, you’re just trying to act all cool.” She leaned back against the grass, as Joaquin put his hands back on her knees.

“You really don’t know who they are?” He asked

“Ugh—just tell me Torres.” She said, sitting up in a huff.

“I can’t! I have to be low-key about it.”

She spoke through her situps; “The fuck—is that—supposed to mean?”

Joaquin started to ask another question; but somehow the two soldiers’ yelling got louder.

Furious, Y/N sat up and turned, before he could stop her, she was yelling in their direction. “Excuse me! Do you mind keeping it down?”

It was obvious they didn’t hear her as the two stepped towards one another, the argument increasing in intensity.

At this point, all the surrounding recruits' attention was on the two.

Their banter was infamous of course; but none of them had witnessed it, or them in person.

None of them dared to break this up; that was a death wish.

She scowled in their direction before turning back to Joaquin, “Next question--”

CLANG

Y/N saw red.

“Alright. That’s it—”

She was up before he could stop her.

“Y/N! Don’t!”

But it was too late.

“Excuse me? Excuse me!”

Walking toward them; she didn’t realize how many people were staring. A few people had pointed out her trek towards them, a couple pulling out their phones.

Oh this was gonna be good.

With each step, she kept asking them to quiet down.

She had no idea that she was berating commanding officers.

In fact, she had no idea just how stupid of an idea this was.

They just kept screaming, and screaming, and screaming--

“HEY!”

They hadn’t noticed her until she was in front of them. Jaw locked in annoyance and shoulders squared; looking like she was ready to raise hell.

“KNOCK IT OFF! You two need to shut the FUCK up. I’m TRYING to STUDY.”

The two whipped around; finally noticing the gazes of the recruits around the track.

Not sure how a super soldier could’ve missed that but...

“We’re sorry, we didn’t hear--” Sam was cut off.

“I’m well aware of that. How could you when you’re fighting like children at a well-respected government facility?” She scolded, her voice raising with each point she made.

Bucky tried to reign in his temper; after his previous interactions with John Walker and Lemar Hoskins, his attitude towards new recruits of the US Army and SWORD was... negative, to say the least. The next generation of soldiers did not have Bucky’s approval; he didn’t feel that had the heart that he and his boys once had, and were following in the footsteps of something they didn’t truly understand. What Steve, and the shield, represented was more than fighting for your country. It was fighting for what’s right, battling injustice, the respect you had to have and the protection you needed to provide was at an international scale now at minimum, in fact it went across all space and time it seemed. He didn’t need some naive recruit giving him the business right now, no sir.

Bucky turned to face her, “Pardon me Miss, but I think you’re out of line.”

Her brows shot up; “Excuse me? I’m out of line? You two are the ones coming onto SWORD property; during our exam season, to show off what very little skill you have, for what?”

The two shared a look; who was this girl?

“Little skill?” Bucky repeated.

She smiled coldly, “I see we’re still having trouble hearing me.”

Something caught her eye, a glare from the man’s hand as it reflected the sunlight.

He neared her, and Sam made no motion to stop him.

“You are talking to two highly decorated war veterans, and superior officers, if I’m judging correctly.”

Bucky couldn’t stand obnoxious recruits; he’d had enough of the High and Mighty with John Walker, he didn’t need it from GI Jane.

As he stood in front of her, eyes set on her face; she refused to look away.

“Stand down, soldier.” He commanded, “You’re out ranked, and embarrassing yourself.”

He felt the anger rapidly bubbling up inside him; this had gone on long enough. The exchange of their hateful stares seemed to last an eternity, neither refused to break first. From his point of view; some hot shot hero wannabe was blatantly disrespecting their practice time, and on a broader scale, affecting them from doing their job. On her end; it was the same thing. Some veterans were dismissing how hard she was working to be here, and thwarting the efforts of her future career. It was a small moment in time; a stupid altercation that, from the outside, should have meant nothing. But internally, to each of them, it meant everything.

She scoffed, taking him aback.

He watched as she simply pulled her hands behind her back, squaring her shoulders in opposition to his frame. He could see the strength in her figure, you could sense the pride she exuded while she faced him. She had no intention of standing down.

“Embarrassing myself? You’re the “decorated war veteran” that hasn’t successfully executed a single hit while he’s been here; even with being genetically enhanced.” She stated.

Sam should’ve jumped in. Bucky and Sam had been allowed in the space for a boost of morale in staff and recruits, and to train with their new found weaponry. In exchange; they had to be respectful and encouraging of the people around them. This was way too big a scene for either party; certainly going to evoke damages of reputation on both ends.

However...

Sam was enjoying this.

Bucky hadn’t been actively social with any of the people here; they had been drawing attention, they certainly had not been boosting morale.

If this young woman wanted to set them in their place; Sam wasn’t going to argue with that.

Besides, Barnes needed to get his blood pumping and his head straight.

Clearly, she was achieving that.

“You’ve been throwing around this stupid fucking thing for almost an hour. You haven’t improved shit for your posture, your aim is still off by like—”

Seeing the silver underside of the frisbee on the ground, she reached for its leather straps.

Without thinking, Y/N grabbed it, whipping it with fury.

The group of students gasped at the action; the two men didn’t move fast enough to stop her.

Joaquin put his head in his hands.

He was going to be in so much shit for this.

Y/N followed through with her throw; sending the frisbee to one target, and with a perfect ricochet it stuck into the wooden pallet, wedging itself in a perfect bullseye.

“Holy shit,” a recruit whispered, turning to his friend, “did you see that?”

The friend shook her head, “What the fuck was that?”

Y/N whipped back to the man in front of her, poking a finger into his chest.

He could feel her hot breath on his neck, her eyes sharp and dark as she peered up at him.

“If you out-rank me, fine. At least have something to show for it if you’re going to ruin my chance at furthering my career.”

He said nothing, staring down at her.

He pulled his attention back to the target. How the hell did she do that?

Shaking her head, she walked towards the splintered wood. Standing in front of it; she looked out into the quad, seeing that she had the entire base’s eyes on her. She pulled the disc away from the target board, her hands sliding into the straps.

“Here, take your toy back.”

But as she turned back to them, they made no motion to speak.

She looked down at the weapon in her hands; only then realizing just what she was holding.

They were silent as they looked at the shield; its colors and glorious star facing them.

That wasn’t a frisbee.

It was Captain America’s shield.

The connection zipped through her brain like lightning.

Oh god.

The man looking at her was Sam Wilson, meaning she had just bitched out Captain America.

Also meaning that the man in front of her was none other than Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier.

Her career was definitely over.

“Oh fuck me.” She whispered, her face paling.

Snapping out of his stupor; Bucky quickly responded.

“Yeah, exactly. So give it back—“

He reached for it, before Y/N pulled it from his grasp.

Well, she thought. If I’m going down, I’m going down swingin’.

“No. This is mine until my exam is over. I pass, I’ll give it back. I don’t, then I’m kicking your ass with it.”

Wilson spoke up then, “Hey, hey watch it.”

“You watch it—both of you are army men. You know how much these tests mean for our future, and you’ve been messing that up for me--and for everyone--”

She gestured out to the crowd of people watching them.

“They’ve been focused on you two all day; you two must’ve known that would happen. This isn’t good for us right now. Fuck, I--”

Now she was rambling, god she felt like an idiot. Why couldn’t she just keep her head?

Something in her voice caught Bucky.

He couldn’t pick it out exactly; but the way she carried herself, the hot headed stubbornness, and serious drive. The vouching on everyone's behalf…

It reminded him of a strong woman he once knew; leading a pack that didn’t know how to be led.

For a second, he almost sympathized with her.

Almost.

She reeled herself in, exuding her previous composure. “I get you two are Avengers and you’re the good guys, but right now you’re pissing me off.”

This was ridiculous.

Bucky laughed dryly at the resistance; “Give it back.”

He grabbed it again, and she glared at his metal hand. She was done being bullied by this man; hero or not, he had fucked up her day exponentially.

“Hands. Off.”

Pulling the shield back to her chest, she pressed the rounded side flat against his stomach. Ducking, she used his weight and momentum against him.

The outside recruits watched in shock as she lifted The Winter Soldier, flipping him over the shield and throwing him to the ground.

It happened so fast, neither of the men had time to react.

Joaquin had to stop himself from throwing up, the adrenaline rushing through him was overwhelming.

He considered running over, but the damage was done. Any interference at this point would probably make things worse.

Y/N just chucked a super soldier into the dirt.

The hell was he gonna do about it?

Bucky groaned as he landed on his back, head smacking against the ground. It hadn’t been hard enough to hurt him; not much did. But the shock of the situation kept him floored.

“Alright you two,” Sam said. Bucky could hear the stall of laughter in his voice, “I think that’s enough.”

With shield still in hand, Y/N tried to stop herself from shaking. The anger was subsiding, but still prominent.

She was surprised that none of her superiors had jumped in to break up the fight; but as she looked out to the crowd of people she realized it was all recruits. Part of her felt relieved, another part felt sick to her stomach.

“Tomorrow;” she huffed, “you meet me here after 10 p.m. Then you get your shield.”

She stormed across the field, not daring to look anyone in the eye.

Feigning confidence was her best action plan, even though she was mortified by her previous actions.

With the situation dawning on her; she grasped for Joaquin and urged him to follow.

“What the fuck did you just do?” He whispered.

“I don’t know. I’m panicking now, so move your ass before I have a heart attack.”

Sam watched as the two figures weaved through the crowd, finding himself even more pleased when realizing it was Joaquin walking away with this mystery girl.

“Sam, a little help here?”

Remembering the old timer in the dirt, Sam reached down to pull him up.

“We better hope she passes,” he laughed, “otherwise you’ll never get that shield back.”

~

Luckily for everyone, she did pass.

Now, standing out in the empty field, a new dread came over her.

The night sky encompassed the campus in a soothing darkness. It did nothing to calm her nerves, but the idea that she would be alone helped her some.

The exam was easy; she had no doubt that she had passed. Making her feel all the more guilty. Word had spread like wildfire here; and it wouldn’t be long before she was reprimanded for what she had done.

She would be lucky if she wasn’t kicked off the base within the next 24 hours. The impending scolding by The Winter Soldier was horrifying enough.

She would apologize profusely, offer anything she could to make up for it, then hopefully get through this ordeal by the skin of her teeth.

Looking down to the shield, she couldn’t help but admire it, feeling its powerful weight in her hands. Curious to see if she could replicate her earlier throw in the day, she tossed it again. Not noticing the man standing directly in her way.

Bucky caught it with ease, and she almost screamed at the sight of him.

“Oh god—I’m sorry.”

Bringing it to his side, he continued to stare at her.

“Sorry? I’m surprised to hear that.”

She looked to the ground, her face growing hot.

“Yeah... about that—I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have acted like that; I was out of line—”

“No.” His voice was stern, but soft.

“I was out of line. I showed no respect to a fellow soldier... you were upset. You told us to stop. We practically laughed in your face.”

She wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was all a plot that would result in her getting fired.

“You’re not just saying that to get the shield back, are you?”

He chuckled, “No. The shield’s important, but the man behind that—what he represented meant more.”

His face fell for a moment, and when the silence drew on too long Y/N cleared her throat.

He shook himself from his thoughts, “My point is, yes I’d like it back. But if having it back meant manipulating you, the man that it used to belong to would be very disappointed in me.”

He could hear Steve’s voice now, chiding him for being such an ass to a lady. Let alone a fellow soldier.

“He was a hero, and from what I hear, a good man…” She picked at her fingernails, not meeting his eye, “You all are.”

Bucky smiled, “Well now you’re just faking nice.”

“Hey!” She exclaimed.

He laughed again, but stopped when he saw her fidgeting. Poor thing was probably a nervous wreck.

“I’m not sure if this helps but… we pulled your lieutenant aside. They agreed to let bygones be bygones, you won’t get punished for anything.”

A sigh of relief escaped her, shoulders falling as she finally looked at him.

“Thank you, god, thank you. How’d you manage that?”

He chuckled, “Wrote it off as a “training exercise” for a recruit of exemplary excellence.”

She laughed with him this time; and Bucky was surprised at how much he liked the sound of it.

“Thank you,” she repeated, “seriously thank you--I was, I was an idiot…”

Bucky shook his head, there was no need for her to explain herself. He was a grown man, he should have behaved as such.

“Sam wanted me to tell you he was sorry too; we shouldn’t have got so butt hurt about it. Could’ve gone way smoother.”

“I didn’t help,” she added, “I was crazy stressed and I took it out on you guys. Again, I’m sorry.”

“You can stop saying that. You pass at least?”

She couldn’t find her words right away, shocked by his interest.

“Yeah, I think so. My physical went well, so that certainly helps.”

He nodded, looking her over. “I don’t doubt that.”

Her head tilted, “Pardon?”

A blush covered his cheeks, “I mean, no. Not like that. Just—you look good. Or—you seem to be in good shape. And you, well you even threw me down. And the shield too! I-Uh—“

She laughed again and Bucky had to stop himself from swooning.

She looked across the field, not knowing what to say.

She certainly wasn’t opposed to his company, but it was lost on her as to why he lingered.

“How did you do that, by the way?” He asked.

“Do what?”

He tapped the Shield, the metallic ring reverberating in the night air.

“Threw this. First try. And me—also first try.”

She shrugged, she honestly didn’t know herself.

“I’m very observant... visuals certainly help.”

He gestured out at the empty field. “Give me a visual then.”

She turned to look over her shoulder, was there really no one around?

“It’s getting kind of late—“

“—Oh, I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, he thought of an excuse for her. “You probably have studying and—and stuff.”

“No, no. That’s not what I meant. I just mean… I don’t want to keep you long.”

He shrugged, “I don’t mind.”

She bit the inside of her lip, gathering that this extra time together was more than just a simple demonstration. “Okay, good.”

She smiled mischievously, snagging the shield from his hands.

“Cuz you’re gonna need all the time you can get—clearly an amateur.”

“I’m an amateur?” He followed eagerly, “I’m 106 years old with decades of experience. You’re like, 18 and barely a Private.”

“Oh that’s it, you’re on sergeant.”

~

Taglist:

@pigeonmama

@blackhawkfanatic

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

@dumb-ass-3

@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @niiight-dreamerrrr @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes

Bucky tag-list:

@emmabarnes

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part I: Baby-Making

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down. 

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them. 

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets. 

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness. 

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello. 

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too. 

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.” 

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.  

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles. 

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could. 

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips. 

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask. 

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable. 

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter. 

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.” 

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in. 

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.” 

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text. 

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now. 

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues. 

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims. 

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.” 

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal. 

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you. 

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right. 

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right. 

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life. 

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.” 

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved. 

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed. 

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before. 

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again. 

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.” 

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly. 

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you. 

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy. 

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place. 

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat. 

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come. 

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body. 

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.” 

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil. 

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you. 

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees. 

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms. 

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his. 

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry. 

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back. 

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out. 

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs. 

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.” 

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step. 

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again. 

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it. 

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

.

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If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[velvrei]

for jay from descendants, i want a smut bc he’s so scrumptious- sooo him and reader have been fwb for at least a month, and one day after jay’s tourney game it feels different? SMUT PLS LMFAO tysm i’m in luv your writing 💋

omg YES i’ve been wanting to write for him, also if your request hasn’t been posted yet i’m going down the line! sorry for the wait <3

benefits

pairing: jay x reader

fandom: descendants

summary: jay & the reader are friends with benefits but one day after tourney everything changes

warnings: smut, switch!jay if you squint, oral (m receiving), pet names, somewhat pda, no sex but it’s still filthy

nsfw below the cut .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

usually jay wouldn’t see himself as much of a sexual guy. that was, until he met you.

when you were first introduced to him, by ben, there was obvious chemistry. he was the “bad boy from the isle,” while you were the “good girl from auradon,” (which wasn’t true at all) but you couldn’t help but notice how he got nervous whenever you entered a room. he was basically head over heels for you.

there was even one time, where you overheard him masturbating and he was saying your name. that was what got you.

so that quickly turned into something, flirting, and teasing each other. then you both discussed it one night after mutually masturbating with each other, and you both agreed to become friends with benefits.

you were sat at his tourney game realizing how far you both had come, literally.

you watched in awe as he scored the game winning goal, making you smile as he was lifted up by his teammates and the whole crowd started cheering.

the group carried him into the locker room, cheering, and your smile stayed displayed on your face.

a couple minutes later, you felt a nudge at your shoulder, turning to see evie.

“i saw you staring at him. the whole game.” she spoke with a giggle, wrapping her arm around you. you rolled your eyes and smiled, “he’s hard not to look at. i was just watching the game.”

evie scoffed. “whatever you two got going on, friends don’t look at friends that way. go convince him! the worst that could happen is that he rejects your offer and you continue fucking occasionally.” evie laughed.

you smiled at her, “okay, fine.” you quickly ran to the locker room and made sure all the other guys were out. jay was the only one in there, you could tell, he was humming a deftones song as he washed his body.

you watched, trying not to giggle as you slowly started took off your clothes. you were fully undressed as you walked over to him and he turned, saw you and jumped.

“you almost gave me a heart attack!” he spoke with a laugh, holding his hand over his heart. “why are you in here!?” he whisper yelled, remembering where he was.

you smiled, “you won, jay, i’m here to celebrate. remember what i said earlier?”

jay felt his cheeks get hot, remembering what you said. “that if i won i would do whatever you wanted me to?” you nodded and wrapped your arms around his chest, hugging him and gently placing your lips onto his.

“what’s it gonna be, captain?” your words made him smile, and immediately get hard, “i don’t know, maybe you should kiss me first.”

as cliche as he sounded, you could never resist his touch. your lips smashed onto his, his hands roamed to your waist, using his hands to apply force and push you against the wall. he was always more aggressive when he was hornier.

your tangled your fingers in his soft, raven hair, smiling into the kiss as tugged and he gasped into the kiss, then moaned.

you slowly pulled your lips away, earning a small whine from him. he stopped and watched as you slowly got onto your knees. “baby…” he trailed off, as if he didn’t want you to.

you shushed him, “don’t even start, love. unless you don’t want me to…” you started to slowly stand up. he stopped you.

“no, please do. i just don’t want you to feel like you have to. that’s all.” he spoke. his words made you smile.

he watched as your face changed, and you smiled, completely changing your whole demeanor.

his mouth fell slightly open as you spoke, “baby, i like pleasing you. especially when i get to hear those pretty sounds you make. gets me wet every time. fuck my throat. do whatever you want to me.” his hips practically buckled as you spoke. he rested his head on the shower wall, “fuck, okay.”

he tried not to melt as he felt you run your tongue the underside of his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes as he swore loudly, his voice slightly louder than before.

you moved your tongue along his tip many times until his hips stuttered, “fuck. i’m sensitive, please,” his pants only made you more eager to tease him.

jay wasn’t normally one to beg, but when it came to you, and he was extra horny, he loved letting all his filthy little words fall from his mouth.

“be patient, baby.” you spoke. your hand gripped firmly, very slowly pumping his cock. his slit was leaking with precum, he was already so worked up by you.

he watched carefully as your lips wrapped around his tip, you kept pumping him but this time at a faster pace. “fuck, feels so good,” he managed to mutter along with his whimpers and pants.

you started to bob your head on him, resisting the urge to moan as he moaned. the realization was sinking in. the hot guy in front of you, was moaning and whimpering because of your mouth. you couldn’t imagine anything hotter.

he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, he was already a moaning mess and she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. he had a thing for being dirty in public and he also just loved the sight of you on your knees for him.

“keep stroking it while you suck it baby… i’m so close, fuck.” his voice was almost slightly high pitched, the whine he let out after added the affect.

you bobbed your head faster before holding your head at the base of his cock. he practically lost his breath, “oh fuck, you want it don’t you.” he said, throwing this head back. he moved his hands to the back of your head and held it there, keeping him at the back of your throat.

he started thrusting his dick in and out of your throat, practically using you as his way to release. “i’m cumming, oh my god!” his whine sent shivers straight to your core.

he held your head as he came tensing up before he shivered and loosened his grip after his high came to its end. you swallowed all you could, a few drops leaving your mouth and washing away with the water into the shower drain.

jay was still out of breath, shivering as he realized what just happened. “are you okay? did i hurt you? i’m sorry-” he immediately began to ramble, realizing how much his arousal took over.

“that was so hot,” was all you said as you stood up. jay sighed and watched as you just smiled at him, no sign of hurt or discomfort in your expression.

he pushed your wet hair behind your ear, “are you sure i didn’t hurt you?” he used his other hand to softly lift your chin.

you shook your head, “no, my love. i actually enjoyed that.”

jay sighed and stepped out of the shower. he grabbed your clothes and handed them to you before he got dressed himself.

when you were dressed, he turned to you with a grin.

“how about you let me take you out on a real date?” you could tell he was nervous, his hands were shaking, could’ve been from the breathtaking orgasm he had not even two minutes ago, he was still out of breath, and when he tied his towel around his waist he failed twice before actually tying it.

you smiled, ready to tease him again, “are you asking me that because of the blowjob or because you like me?”

jay rolled his eyes, “because i like you, y/n. you know you don’t always have to be so difficult and demanding.” as he finished his sentence his towel fell down once again.

you couldn’t help but giggle, “well, you seem to like it when i’m demanding, you were moaning at my words not even 2 minutes ago.” you slowly walked up and him and ran a hand through his hair, “handsome boy.”

his dick hardened immediately as he watched her walk away. “goddamnit, y/n!”

[escelia]

DP x DC PROMPT/FIC

Gotham Portal

(If you get the notif for this post like 2 days ago, no you didn't! I wasn't done yet! You were imagining things!)

Where the story takes place in Gotham instead of Amity Park, the Fentons having moved before the construction and testing of the Ghost portal due to the high saturation of ectoplasm in Gotham. So, Danny's accident ALSO happens in Gotham, except he has no support system at all.

Enter the Bats stage left!

Danny couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. His parents had uprooted their whole life to move to Gotham. They said they'd need all the ambient ectoplasm there for when they built their portal. Jazz had been thrilled! After all, Arkham was a shining beacon of mentally ill people, and Jazz was like a psychology moth to a flame; it would be the perfect place for her internship after college.

His parents had wasted no time assembling the portal from their blueprints in the basement of the run-down apartment building they'd bought outright just on the edge of Crime Alley, complete with the Ops Center parked right on top. They'd gutted the place and completely redone it before they moved in. (Danny had no idea when they accomplished that. Maybe they'd been planning it for a while and only thought to tell their children two weeks before moving day.) He was genuinely surprised the local vigilantes hadn't stopped by yet to ask questions.

But anyway, back to how he was royally screwed! He'd just wanted a cool picture for Sam and Tucker now that he'd moved away. His parents weren't home (they'd gone back to the hardware store after their last test), Jazz had stayed after school to try and butter up her new teachers by running a study group, and he'd been alone. He'd even followed all the safety precautions his parents had told him about! He'd put on the hazmat suit and tried not to touch anything. But he'd tripped.

Through the whirling of green and the static buzzing in his ears, he remembered screaming, though he hadn't recognized it as his own. Every nerve in his body was on fire, and he just wanted it to stop. Stop, please stop, why won't someone save me, please!

He woke up to the smell of burning flesh, but he woke up. He was okay! Disoriented, a little disgusted by the smell and throat a little raw, but okay!

At least he'd thought so at first.

He'd begun to... change colors? And float, he floated sometimes, too. But the most irritating of all was that he would go through things. Forks and glasses slipping, quite literally, right through his fingers.

He hadn't told his parents. He'd been fine, after all. A little shaken up, but they'd been so excited he'd gotten the portal to work, who was he to put a damper on the mood when he was fine?

That brought him to now, staring at the mirror in the school bathroom in horror. He'd fought his first real ghost that morning around breakfast. He'd kept it together fairly well, in his opinion. Got through three whole classes before making an excuse to the teacher, slipping off into the blessedly empty restroom.

He'd been getting better and better at controlling his form, and he transformed in front of the mirror, taking stock of his appearance.

Odd colored hair: check.

Bright glowing eyes: check.

Floaty hair: check.

Could walk through walls, disappear, and fly: check.

He raised his finger to his pulse point and felt... nothing.

"I died," he whispered to himself in shock. "I... died," he repeated, this time in despair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian Wayne was not usually one to keep tabs on his classmates. They weren't his friends, therefore he saw no point. However, the new kid, Daniel Fenton, had begun to act strange.

When Daniel Fenton enrolled in Gotham Academy it hadn't been anything special. He'd started the year a little last due to his family moving, but families moved for all sorts of reasons. He hadn't tried to immediately make friends with Damian like so many others had, much to his relief. But he hadn't tried to make friends with anyone else, either. Maybe he liked to be alone? It really wasn't his business.

But then the boy started getting skittish and clumsy. Clumsier than he had been when he started school. He'd developed a miniscule tremor in his left hand, so he'd probably sustained an injury. He began dropping things in Chemistry. So often, in fact, that he'd been banned from doing practical labs and was instead assigned extra book work.

If Damian had been anyone else, if he hadn't been raised by assassins or had his night work as Robin, he wouldn't have noticed. He wouldn't have followed Fenton to the bathroom under the guise of needing to see the school nurse for a headache. Perhaps if he were anyone else, Fenton might have noticed him following.

There was an alarming flash of light as Damian peered carefully around the corner. Fenton had changed forms. Something had happened to him.

"I died," he heard him say. Damian thought he was being dramatic until he watched him raise his fingers to his pulse point. His glowing eyes dilated in panic, and he repeated himself. He watched as his classmate, looking fragile and lost, curled in on himself floating in the air, and sobbed.

Damian didn't confront him that day. He watched, waited, and researched. He found the research of Dr's Fenton on ghosts and ectoplasm, most of which he was skeptical of up until actual ghosts started to torment them during patrols.

Ghosts were real, it appeared.

He also concluded that their findings on ectoplasmic entities being non-sentient and inherently malevolent was incorrect, having met the ghost of a little girl caught up in a rouge attack that killed her and her family.

Damian watched Daniel Fenton for about a week while he ditched class in a poorly hidden effort to fight and contain the ghosts that he and his family were having such a hard time dealing with. His father was even nearly considering contacting John Constantine, which was never his ideal solution. Damian had been rolling an idea around in his head for a while and he decided now would be the time to bring it up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner at the manor was more of a full table than Damian had expected. Not everyone was there, Jason's relationship with them was still a bit strained, so he was not in attendance, and neither was Stephanie. But Duke was home, and Dick was actually there early for patrol later. Tim was there, and so was Cass, so almost everyone.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat politely. "Father, I wish to recruit a new member."

The chatter around the room came to a halt, the clatter of silverware ceasing.

"What exactly do you mean, chum?" Bruce asked carefully.

"I have a classmate I believe would be a valuable asset in light of our trouble with ghosts recently. However, he has no training or support, so I'm asking for your assistance."

"Did... demon brat make a friend?" Tim asked bewildered and a little bit terrified.

"Tt. No, I've never even spoken to him." Damian rolled his eyes. "My classmate, Daniel Fenton, transferred to Gotham Academy about a month ago and started acting strange soon after. He came to school with a tremor and a Lichtenberg figure you can just barely see starting on his left hand and traveling up his arm. I believed he'd been in an accident, and my suspicions were proven when I saw him use meta abilities to ditch class and fight a ghost in the courtyard of the school. From my observations, they are newly acquired, but he has decent instincts and an inclination toward heroism. I believe it would be safer for everyone involved if we approached him first."

"What?" Tim muttered. Dick was smiling gently at him, though, as if he were doing something he was proud of.

"Do his parents know?" Duke asked. Damian scoffed.

"I highly doubt it."

"Wait, Fenton as in the ectobiologists?" Bruce asked. The ex-assassin nodded.

"And considering their research is not reflected in our own interactions with ghosts thus far, I do not believe we should tell them."

"Not safe?" Cass signed. Her brother shook his head.

"The abilities I've observed resemble that of a ghost. He even has an alternate ghostly form."

The implication that they'd be endangering him hung heavy in the air. They'd all seen the Fentons' research. It mostly consisted of theoretical analysis and blatant biases with a long list of proposed experiments they'd run if they ever caught one. They'd all agreed that the Fenton ghost hunters were not a viable option for their ghost problem, especially after seeing how they drove, which in itself nearly put them on the Bat's rogue list.

"We've been meaning to investigate the Fentons properly anyways," Dick pointed out.

Bruce attempted to massage a headache out of his temples. The stuff his kids stumbled into, really. But Damian was right. If his classmate was a new meta with no support, it was only a matter of time before the rogues zeroed in on him, and since his family lived there, he couldn't tell the kid to leave.

"I'm not saying yes just yet, but talk to him. Find out any more that you can."

"Of course, Father."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny finally felt like he was getting the hang of his ghost powers. He was pleasantly surprised, and also mildly horrified, that his parents' inventions actually worked on the ghosts he was now beginning to fight regularly. His favorite was by far the thermos, which did no ghost mutilating whatsoever.

He discovered he had a ghost sense and enhanced hearing and vision, which was cool and all, but now he could hear all the shitty things his classmates said about him behind his back. Which, rude! He didn't even talk to them, what did they have to be shitty about?

He also noticed that one of them, Damian Wayne, had been watching him. From what Danny had heard, Damian was the richest kid in school, a Wayne. Son of billionaire Bruce Wayne, to be exact. And his attitude reflected that. His standoffish, holier than thou rich guy attitude made Dash and Paulina look like they lived below the poverty line. Apparently, he generally didn't talk to anyone at school unless it pertained to class, so Danny saw no point in introducing himself.

That made it extra weird that Damian was following him.

It was right after lunch when a hiccup had a cold breath tumbling from his lips. He raised his hand and asked his teacher if he could use the restroom. He made his way to the bathroom on the other side of the building this time, hoping it would be too out of the way for Damian to follow. But soft rustling of his classmate's school uniform gave him away, no matter how imperceptible his footsteps were.

When he entered the restroom, he made his way to the sink instead, splashing some cold water on his face as Damian walked in behind him loudly as if announcing his presence.

"I know what you've been doing," he said confidently, crossing his arms and standing in front of the door so Danny couldn't leave.

"Oh, hey! Damian, right? I'm in most of your classes, but I don't think I've ever introduced myself. I'm-"

"Daniel Fenton, I know. You've been fighting ghosts." Damian had to give him at least a little credit; he'd become a great actor over the last week. Though, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that he probably didn't feel safe at home anymore.

"My parents are ghost hunters, but I don't think shooting a ghost in the face with a lipstick laser then running for my life counts as 'fighting ghosts'."

"Tt. You are lying."

"Dude, what are-?" Danny cut himself off when his words came with another misty breath. Crap! He'd taken too long!

The ghost of the day, an ugly, mutated, bird looking thing with claws at the ends of its wings and a full set of dangerous, pointed teeth, phased through the door behind Damian, poised to strike.

Without warning, Danny grabbed Damian's wrist and whipped him out of the way, throwing himself between the two. A green shield formed in front of him just as the bird slashed at them with one of its wings.

"Well, that's new," he said startled as the bird geared up for another attack.

Danny groaned at his miserable luck before throwing caution to the wind and transforming. He'd just have to force friendship upon one Damian Wayne in an attempt to keep him from telling anyone about his whole magical girl transformation. He tried to activate his shield again, but when nothing happened, he was flung across the room into the wall. God, this was embarrassing.

The next time the ghost tried to attack him, Damian yanked him aside in a dodge and bolted out of the bathroom with Danny in tow. He was dragged through the winding halls to one of the side exits of the school. In costume or not, Damian's priority was luring the ghost away from the other students.

"Hey, so uh, you won't say anything about this," he gestured wildly to himself, "will you?"

"Tt. Of course not, but I believe you have more important concerns at the moment."

“Right!” Danny patted at the sides of his hazmat suit. “Crap, I left my thermos in my locker!” He dodged another attack and retaliated with an ectoblast, trying to keep the ghost's attention off of Damian as much as possible.

"Your lunch? Really?" Damian shouted. Dang, Danny must have been doing a decent job if Damian had the spare time and attention to be exasperated with him.

"No! It's a containment device! Besides, ghosts are basically soup anyway!"

"Distract it," Damian instructed, "I'll retrieve the device." The boy took off. Danny had to wonder how he even knew where his locker was. The ghost tried to follow him, but Danny shot another blast at it.

"Hey ugly, auditioning to be one of Gotham's Birds? Sorry, but you don't really look the part." He had no idea if the creature could even understand him, but the way it turned to him and lunged again suggested it had done the trick. This time, his shield did work!

Danny could have cried tears of joy at finally having some consistency with it. The next few minutes of the fight felt like an eternity while he dodged and shot ectoblasts at it. The creature wasn't really that strong, and it didn't seem to have super dangerous abilities like some of the other ghosts he'd fought like Skulker or Technus. It ended up being a great opportunity to practice his new shield ability, actually. But he knew the longer he took, the more danger his classmates would be in.

The bird ghost slammed into his shield with a particularly vicious strike, slamming him into the ground and creating a small crater.

"Note to self, remember intangibility," Danny groaned.

In that moment he noticed a door opening on the school building. It was Damian! He was finally back with thermos in hand! Unfortunately, the other ghost noticed too.

"Oh no you don't!" Danny yelled, latching onto one of its feet as it tried to fly toward his classmate. He dug his fingers in hard and sunk into the ground partway to anchor himself.

"Big green button by the lid then the button immediately below it!"

Damian wasted no time popping the lid open and sucking the ghost into the device, the lid closing with a quiet pop. He had to admit, though the design was questionable, it was sturdy, light, and very clearly effective. He wondered if he could get away with sneaking off with this one to have drake examine later.

"That was some incredible timing, thanks." The ghostly form of his classmate floated over to him, taking the thermos from his hand. Damian did not pout.

"We should probably get out of here before the Fenton's show up." He could already hear the screech of tires and his dad's voice over the megaphone tearing through the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Don't worry honey, we'll catch that nasty ghost boy next time," Jack Fenton comforted his wife. True to form, the Fenton's had arrived to the scene late, and most of the damage to the school yard had been from their vehicle crashing into things upon their arrival. Parents had been called and classes ended for the day, which was how one Bruce Wayne found himself at Gotham Academy trying to help the teachers talk the two down from storming and searching the school.

His son was standing off to the side with one of his classmates. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, lanky frame; Bruce could have mistaken the child for one of his own, but looking between the hulking man in front of him and the kid standing next to Damian, the resemblance was obvious. That had to be Daniel Fenton, the meta his son had told him about. Which meant he'd been the one to deal with the ghost before anyone else had gotten there. The classmate Damian had suggested they recruit for his safety.

"Danno, did you see where that spook went? When I get my hands on him, I'll rip him apart molecule by molecule for even thinking of attacking your school!" Bruce saw Daniel's breath hitch with fear.

"Sorry, no. I was coming back from the bathroom when I saw him fighting another ghost through the window. I was scared so I hid," he lied, gripping his left wrist while he spoke.

Bruce was impressed. The boy's fear was real, and he used that to his advantage to really sell the lie to his parents. His heart ached for him. He couldn't imagine seeing any of his boys looking at him like that, with such fear and distrust.

"That's okay sweetie, we'll get him next time. We're just happy you're alright. Let's get you home," his mother comforted, though Bruce knew it wasn't very comforting at all.

"Yeah, we'll teach you to use the Fenton Bazooka," well that was horrifying, "that way next time you can just blast him!" Danny wanted literally anything else.

"Actually," Damian interrupted politely. "We were assigned a project in class earlier on the history of Gotham. As Daniel is relatively new to town, I offered to assist him with the assignment. Father, would it be acceptable for him to join us for dinner?"

Bruce would have been incredibly surprised his son was inviting someone over for dinner if he didn't see exactly what he was doing. Daniel wasn't safe at home. And he clearly wasn't comfortable with the way his parents spoke of the 'ghost boy'. If his defeated expression was anything to go by, it hadn't been the first time they'd said something like that, nor would it be the last.

"What do you think, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton? We'd love if Daniel could join us for dinner."

"Please, call us Maddie and Jack. That sounds wonderful Mr..."

"Wayne. Bruce Wayne, I'm Damian's father," he introduced. If the two recognized the name, they didn't show it. It worked out rather well in his favor.

"Mr. Wayne. If its not too much trouble, that would be wonderful. It's about time he made a new friend, he's been sulking since the move. Now, we have a ghost to catch!" Maddie planted a kiss on Danny's forehead, leaning her blaster on her shoulder as her and her husband made their way back to the homemade assault vehicle parked haphazardly on the lawn of the school.

"Be sure to call us if you plan on staying the night! We'll let Jazz know she doesn't have to worry about dinner for you! We love you, have fun sweetie!"

"Are they always like that?" Damian asked after the two had pulled away. How had those two even gotten their driver's license? It was truly abysmal, he dreaded the thought of anyone getting into a vehicle with them. And then there was the speed in which they'd dumped their son into their laps, even suggesting they'd be okay with him not coming home that night.

"They mean well, but yeah," Danny replied, heaving a sad and defeated sigh. "Thank you, by the way. For inviting me over, even if you didn't mean it. They can be a bit much."

"Clearly," Damian mused back.

Bruce watched the two interact and felt pride well up in his chest. Meeting the Fenton parents just once was enough to convince him that their son needed help, maybe even their daughter too. That Damian had taken the initiative to bring this to his attention, that he had stood up for Danny and offered his home as a sanctuary for him, made him so incredibly proud as a father. He wasn't as prickly with Danny the way he was with other people, even his own siblings. That was a very good thing indeed, considering it was looking more and more likely this would end with another adoption.

Maybe Clark was right, he did have an adoption problem.

[verstappen-cult]

WAVE OF YOU, C. LECLERC.

PROLOGUE — NEXT CHAPTER. [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

PAIRING. charles leclerc x female reader.

CHAPTER ONE SUMMARY — It looks like any other shift at the coffee shop until the presence of a brown haired boy with dimples changes everything. The same boy you meet at the beach several days ago — the one who stood you up.

CONTENT WARNINGS. female reader, use of Y/N, alcohol use, fluff & friends being a menace.

GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. OH MY GOD! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i was in the worst writers block of all times and couldn't get out of it :( but i forced myself to finish this today and ta-dah! i really hope you like it, your comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. remember that if you want to be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box!

“Come on, girl! We can’t be late today.” You groan in frustration, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watch Daisy shake the sand out of her fur. She sits and looks up at you with her tongue out, head slightly tilted to the side. “Good girl.” You say, giving her one of her favorite dog treats. You put the collar on her and she happily starts walking by your side. 

It’s a short walk, around ten minutes, from the beach to the coffee shop you started working at just two months ago. You like it so much that you probably spend more time there than in your own apartment. It’s cozy and family owned, and there is always a pleasant atmosphere even though there are always people coming in and out, one of the perks of having the shop so close to the beach. 

And everyone loves Daisy too, so you’re allowed to bring her with you. While you work behind the counter, she chills by the door in her bed with her favorite bunny plushie. She brings joy and bright smiles to every single person that visits the coffee shop.

You can’t believe this is your life. 

It wasn’t easy at first but making the decision to drop out of school and travel around the world wasn’t as difficult as breaking the news to your parents. And after everything you went through in these two years you deserve the good things and peace that is coming your way. 

It was all worth it, missing your family, waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you made the right decision, the good and the bad… it was all worth it. You wouldn’t change a thing because it brought you to this; to Australia and to the wonderful people you’ve met. 

“Good morning, Fred.” You say to the owner of the flower shop right next door to where you work. He smiles, waving goodbye to a client, before walking out to meet you. 

“Hello, sweetheart.” His smile is contagious. You like to pass by him before going to work everyday because seeing someone be so happy and positive every single day is exactly what you need. “How was the beach today?”

“I had to drag her out of there before she got into the water.” He laughs, crouching down to pet Daisy and, in return, she licks his face. 

Fred laughs and stands up, grabbing a bouquet of tulips. “These are for the shop,” He says before turning around and grabbing a single sunflower. “and this for you.”

Fred is a French man in his fifties that came to Australia following the love of his life. He didn’t have a plan, he just left everything behind; they’ve been married for thirty years. 

“Always so sweet, Fred.” You place a kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye with the promise to bring some coffee for him later. He watches you walk away with that same big smile on his face.

You open the door of Brew’d Awakening, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries welcoming you, as well as the bulldog resting next to the door. 

“Hello to you too, Roscoe.” He huffs like telling you to hurry up. You let Daisy go and she immediately finds comfort next to Roscoe. 

There aren’t many people — it is still pretty early — just a couple of regulars that like to grab their first cup of coffee before heading to work or the beach. 

As you make your way to the counter, you find Kika sitting at one of the tables enjoying a cup of coffee while typing away on her laptop. 

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, plopping down on a chair next to her. 

“Lewis wanted to discuss some things about the social media content,” She leans slightly to give your cheek a kiss. “and you’re meeting my boyfriend today.”

You gasp, turning to look at her with wide and surprised eyes. “What do you mean I’m meeting him?”

“I told you he’s gonna spend the summer here.” 

“Yes, but I also remember you telling me that he had to go back?” Daisy nudges your leg with her nose, and you immediately know what she wants. “So, he’s back then?” Kika hums while you look for Daisy’s plushie in your bag. 

“He’s coming because I left some things at his apartment.”

“So that’s why you didn’t come home last night.” She blushes, sticking her tongue out. “Whore.” Kika gasps, hitting you in the arm. 

“Hello, pretty ladies.” Your co-worker, who practically lives in your apartment now, leaves an iced latte in front of you. 

You take a sip of the drink, looking directly into his eyes. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you sneak out this morning.” 

“What do you mean? I wasn’t there this morning.” 

“Alex, I literally heard you and Lily laughing at three in the morning,” Alex groans, sitting in front of you. 

“In my defense,” He points a finger at you and really tries to think of something, but comes out with nothing. “Whatever, you like me too much to kick me out.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” You stand up when the door opens and a new customer enters.

“Good morning, kid.” Lewis gives you a pat on the back when you join him behind the counter, you kiss his cheek in return.

You spend the morning taking care of the customers while Alex and Lewis are responsible of preparing and serving the orders. It is a quiet and nice morning, like most Saturdays are, and you love it. You owe Kika everything, because if it weren’t for her you wouldn’t have found the coffee shop in the first place. She recommended you and it was all Lewis and Nico needed to hire you. 

Lewis and Nico are a gay couple that, just like you, decided to settle down in Australia after traveling to different parts of the world. They opened Brew’d Awakening just five years ago but it’s going so well they have the opportunity to expand, but refuse to do it, knowing that the warmth and coziness of the Brew’d will be lost. You respect them for that. 

You’re about to swap shifts with Alex when Kika shows up in front of you, a shy smile on her face. 

“He’s here. I like him, okay? So, be nice.”

“I’m always nice!” You exclaim a little offended. 

“I know, sorry. It’s just — I’m nervous.” She looks around before leaning closer. “He brought his friends because apparently we’re doing this ‘trade’ thing where I meet his friends and he meets mine.” 

You hold your laugh, “Cute.”

“Stop making fun of me and come here or I’ll go mad.”

“I’m taking my break, is that okay?” You ask your boss, at which he nods, giving you a thumbs up. 

You take off your apron as you walk around the counter. Kika is waiting for you in the middle of the shop, looking like a nervous wreck. 

“I’ve never seen you so nervous before.” You place a hand on her shoulder, massaging to help her relax a little. 

“Meeting the friends is a big deal.” 

Well, she is right. You just didn’t realize how serious her relationship actually was until now. 

Daisy wags her tail as she makes her way to you. And you immediately lean forward to scratch behind her ears. 

You’re too busy to pay attention to the guy wrapping his arms around your friend and kissing her lips as a greeting. It is only when Kika clears her throat, kicking your leg to draw your attention, that you force yourself to let Daisy go.

“This is Pierre.” She says as you straighten back up. “Pierre, this is my friend Y/N.”

You look at the guy in front of you for a couple of seconds. His blue eyes are a little too familiar, but the more you try to remember from where you know him, the more you think that is probably just a coincidence. 

“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” Pierre laughs, making you and Kika frown. “This is fantastic.”

“What is fantastic?” A voice draws your attention, making you look behind Pierre.

Your heart skips a beat the second you see a pair of green eyes.

The green eyes of the surfer boy you met a few weeks ago at the beach. 

Charles; who you never saw again.

It turns out that Charles wasn’t at the beach the next morning. You sat on the sand longer than necessary, thinking that maybe he was running late. But he never came. You didn’t see his friends either, so you simply picked up what was left of your dignity and walked back to your apartment with Daisy by your side. 

The morning after that you decided to confront him, but he wasn’t there. 

He never showed up at the beach again. And for a minute you thought it was all in your head, but that option was discarded when you bumped into the group of teenage girls sitting on the sand, wondering why the hot guys weren’t there. 

At least you weren’t the only one looking for them. 

You hadn’t thought about Charles in several days. 

And now he’s standing in front of you with a big smile on his handsome face.

Ugh, you had forgotten the dimples. 

“Y/N?” He asks, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” You mutter bitterly, not wanting to engage in a conversation with him. 

It’s childish, you have to admit it, but why is he gonna ask to see you just to not show up? And, okay, you were going to the beach the next day either way but you got all excited for nothing. You really wanted to get to know him, maybe even ask for his number. He seemed like a nice guy and his accent made butterflies erupt in your belly. But that was before he stood you up. 

Kika looks between you and Charles with a confused expression on her face. You make the mistake of making eye contact with her because the next moment she’s gasping, her eyes wide as she finally puts the pieces together. 

“Charles is the boy you met at the beach?!” You want to cover her mouth with your hand but you can barely move. You love her, you really do, but right now you want her to shut up. 

Even from a distance, you can see the way his blush spreads over his cheeks. Charles runs a hand through his hair. You would pay a million dollars just to tangle your fingers in it to see if it is as soft as it looks. 

You’re dragged back to the present when the doors open and Charles’ friends walk inside. 

“Oi look who’s here!” One of his friends says — the curly-haired one — and they wave in your direction before walking to a nearby table. Daisy recognizes them, even though they were barely a few minutes in her presence, and she walks over to them. 

“Nice to meet you, Pierre.” You plaster on a smile, turning to face him and Kika. “I wish I could stay and get to know you better, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Pierre smirks, nodding along. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to work.” 

You walk back to the counter without looking at Charles again. Lewis looks at you with a raised brow and you shrug, that must have been the shortest break of all times. 

You’re putting on your apron in front of the cash register, a line of customers ready to order, when you see Charles joining the line and waiting for his turn. 

“Is that Kika’s boyfriend?” Alex whispers next to you while making an order. You look at where they’re sitting, the same table where all of Pierre and Charles’ friends are. They’re actually cute, unable to keep their hands to themselves. 

You nod, busy writing the last order. “Hi, welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you?” When you look up you’re met with Charles' blushed face, a small smile directed at you. 

“Can we talk?” He looks genuinely nervous, and you feel a little guilty for making him feel that way. He’s the last one in line, so you nod. “I’m really sorry,” Charles breathes, closing his eyes. “I really wanted to be there the next morning but Pierre had to fly back to France and I couldn’t leave him alone.”

Your expression softens. He didn’t mean to stand you up then.

“We came back literally two days ago.” 

You feel really bad now. 

“Oh my God,” You let out a laugh, feeling embarrassed and so, so guilty. “I’m sorry. I guess I was a little hurt because I thought you stood me up — not that it was a date and we explicitly agreed to see each other.” You feel blood rushing to your face. 

“I wanted to text you but I didn’t have your number,” Charles frowns, a nervous smile dancing on his lips. “and I couldn’t find you on Instagram.”

Your entire body shivers and the corners of your mouth curl up. “You really looked me up on Instagram?”

“Yea’,” He chuckles, shrugging. “I wanted—no, I want to know you. You are really pretty—cool, I mean.”

“So you don’t think I’m pretty?” You lean forward, hands resting on the counter and supporting your weight. 

Charles' cheeks heat up as he tries to think of something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. 

You take him out of his misery by giving him a little push on the shoulder. 

“I’m joking.”

Charles looks at you for a second, and then says, “You are. Pretty, I mean.”

It is your turn to blush furiously. You have to look away if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him. 

“Are you gonna order or not?” 

You both turn to look at the person standing behind Charles, clearly annoyed for having to wait too long. He apologizes before turning back to you. 

“I’m gonna,” He points to the table where his friends are, and you nod, disappointed for being interrupted. 

It’s a little awkward because he stands there for a whole minute just looking at you before waving goodbye and walking away. 

The customer clears his throat and you’re dragged back to the present one more time. 

You hear Alex and Lewis laughing behind you. 

“Hey, we’re going to the club tonight.” Kika says as you clock out. 

“Who is we?” You ask, grabbing your purse and the iced latte you made for the ride home. 

“Pierre and a couple of his friends,” She takes a sip of her own matcha latte and sits on the counter. “You, Lily, Alex.” Kika pokes Alex’s ribs, who’s cleaning the counter next to her.

You chew on your bottom lip, the question is hanging from your tongue but you’re not able to voice it out. Kika must see the struggle on your face. 

“Charles is coming too.” She has a knowing look on her face, but doesn’t make fun of you or ask what is going on with his boyfriend’s best friend. “So, are you coming?” She knows you’re going even before you nod your approval. “Someone left this for you.”

Kika hands you a napkin with a number written on it, a “Charles x” underneath a phone number. 

Your heart starts hammering in your chest and you waste no time in pulling your phone out of your pocket to save his contact. You hesitate whether to message him or not when, suddenly, your screen lights up with a new message. 

If you can’t stop smiling on the way home from the coffee shop and while you get ready for a night out, nobody (besides Kika) needs to know. 

On the way to the club you think about every little moment and decision that has led you here, to this uber with your friends ready to spend a good night with new friends, and a pretty guy who’s clearly very interested in you. If someone would’ve told you two years ago that this was going to be your life, you would’ve laughed. 

You feel nervous, getting out of the car and walking into one of your favorite clubs in the city. 

The first thing you notice is the mass of people dancing along to the loud music. You think you’re gonna make your way to the bar as you always do the minute you walk inside but, instead, Kika guides you to where all the VIP booths are, near the back of the club and the DJ.

“Baby!” Pierre shouts over the music, drink in one hand. “And baby’s friends!”

“Oh my God, I think he’s already drunk.” Kika groans, making her way to her boyfriend and kissing his cheek before whispering something in his ear that makes Pierre blush. Okay, gross. 

There are a lot of people in the booth. You recognize some of Charles’ friends and a few other people you’ve never seen before. Everyone’s talking with everyone and you’re wondering what to do when someone places a hand on your back. 

“I was waiting for you.” Charles whispers with a low voice, and you feel weak in the knees immediately. 

You turn around to face him and are blinded by his bright dimpled-smile. 

“Hi.” You say, looking into those two green orbs you’ve missed. Just a little. “All my friends dumped me,” Looking behind Charles’ shoulder, you see Lily and Alex making out in the middle of the dancefloor, while Kika is sitting next to her boyfriend and talking with some of his friends. “so you’re stuck with me for the whole night.”

“Ugh,” Charles says, bringing his hand to his heart and pretending to be affected. “that’s horrible. Stuck with a pretty girl all night? I’ll just have to deal with it.” 

You lean your shoulder into Charles’ side playfully and he moves a little closer, his hand still on your back. Apparently, blushing comes like a second nature to you ever since you met Charles.

“Wanna grab a drink?” 

He doesn’t need to ask twice. 

Charles guides you to the bar, keeping you close with his hand that has dropped from your back to your waist. His closeness is intoxicating and you can’t help but lean closer. Charles seems comfortable with the proximity, so you stay glued to his side as you walk to the bar, where you’re forced to pull away.

He asks the bartender for your drinks — after asking, very politely, what you’d like to drink — and leans against the counter with you by his side. 

You tilt your head and observe him for a little while, Charles too busy grabbing your drinks to notice the attention. It is only when he turns to hand you the glass that he notices your gaze on him, his cheeks heating up immediately but his eye contact doesn’t waver. He just stands there with two drinks and people bumping into him, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.

You shake your head, grabbing your drink. “Thank you.” 

You don’t really know how much time you spend at the bar chatting with Charles, but you don’t want it to end. Charles tells you about his life back in Monaco, you learn that he came very close to the racing world before his father passed away and he decided to quit — not his younger brother though, who is currently racing in Formula 1 — and dedicate his life to his other passion: architecture. And in return you tell Charles more about your decision to travel the world and not going to college, he shares some of your opinions and you’re surprised how easily you’re able to share things about your life with him. 

“I don’t know where life would take me,” You take a sip of your second drink, resting your elbows on the counter. “but I’m happy where I am right now.”

“You should think about visiting Monaco, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with it.” Charles has a strange glint in his eyes that forces you to look away. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” A guy throws his arms around yours and Charles’ shoulder. You recognize him as one of his beach friends. 

“Dani.” Charles groans, but relaxes against his friend’s chest. “Where are Max and Lando?”

“With the DJ,” You both turn to look at the DJ booth, and right there next to him is Lando and, to his other side, the blonde guy you remember as Max. Both of them look very drunk. “Oscar wants to take them home but I said that as long as neither of them throws up, we’re good.” 

Dani asks for a couple of drinks and makes small talk. He’s absolutely hilarious and doesn’t stop making fun of Charles. 

“He kept asking us if we’d seen you. Every. Single. Day.” Charles pushes him away but that doesn’t stop him. “And sent like a thousand selfies pouting and trying to bribe us to look for you around the city.”

“Daniel!” Charles exclaims, mortified. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head forward. 

Dani just laughs and, once his drinks are ready, walks away. Still making fun of his friend. 

“It’s cute.” You confess, feeling brave enough to lift his chin up with your hand. “I’m glad you were trying to find me, even though I thought you had forgotten about me.”

“How could I?” He smiles, his dimples on full display. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath, I’m gonna confess that the only thing on my mind while I was away was our interaction at the beach.” His cheeks are blushed as he plays with the buttons of his shirt. “And how sorry I was for not asking for your number.”

You’re one second away from falling to the floor and melting onto it. 

Charles is definitely not helping with the racing of your heart and the need to be a normal and a functional person. 

“I’m sorry,” Charles’ voice is gentle.

“Don’t be,” You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze softly before letting go. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath,” You repeat his exact same words which makes him laugh, his whole face lighting up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Well, until I was beginning to get angry at myself for thinking about it even after you stood me up.”

Charles groans, putting his face in his hands. 

“I’ve a lot to make up for.”

He looks back up and you make eye contact until Charles glances down at your lips, then back up at your eyes. And the room suddenly feels too crowded and too hot. 

“You’ll have plenty of time for that.”

𓇼 — WAVE OF YOU, TAGLIST: @lovrsm @itsjustkhaos @evie-119 @sadbeautifuleva @c4tc0re @sargeantdumbass @brune77e @arian-directioner @lavisenri @starsnxva @a1leexxa @therealcap @anniee-mr @kakorrhaphiophobia @madd1115 @toxicdreamer296 @coffeebae0 @tempo-rary-fix @luca-is-a-pengu @charleslover24 @vettelsbees @iienstein @mehrmonga @ferraridepartment @fictional-l0v3r. 𓇼 [cursive means i couldn't tag you]

© verstappen-cult, 2024. — do not repost plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[beomsjoongie]

⌗fill the void⌗

genre: smut, San x Reader

warnings: I’ll update later, but praising, slight overstim, pussy eating, drunk/tipsy sex, fingering, drinking, clubbing (2.3k words)

a/n: hey!!! it’s been a while.. uhh but I’m back and I’m gonna try and post more. college is about to start again and I really might be busy but I will try to post a lot before then to make up for lost time AND to make up for time that I wont have while I’m in class. Uhh, I was working on a mingi story but I lost motivation but I hope to get it back!! let’s just hope that I can be more consistent!! that’s all for rn, see you next time, enjoy! <333

You lie on your back, facing the ceiling. You’ve been like this for days; not wanting to get up and do anything. Your friends had been blowing up your phone before showing up and letting themselves in.

Now standing around you, both of your friends sighed, “Come on, Y/n. You can’t lay here forever.” Your redhaired friend, Andrea, spoke out, gesturing to your state. “Get up.” She started to pull your arm but you made sure to force your weight down.

Letting out and putting her hand on her other forehead, your other friend spoke. “Y/n,” she sat on your messy bed, “We love you. And us letting you stay like this, is basically saying that we don’t. Cheating sucks. Trust us, we both know.” Emery rubbed your hand.

You turned to look at her with tears eyes, “But, I loved him.” You started to cry again. Emery looked at Andrea with a sigh. “But we love you more, Y/n. And not only does this break up hurt you but it hurts us.” Emery stood up again. “Yeah, it hurts to see you like this. All sad and sluggish. That’s why we want to help you.”

You groaned, putting a pillow on your face but getting it snatched off almost immediately. “How are you going to help me? I’m helpless.”

“We’re gonna take you out. Remember how I got cheated on last year and you guys forced me to go out the next day. I wasn’t even allowed to be sad.” Emery reminded.

It was true. It was your idea in the first place. Suggesting to go out to a club and drink the night away until she forgot about her ex who cheated on her with her brother. Yes.. her own blood brother.

“Now, get up.” Andrea said. You sat up, before getting pulled out of bed by Emery and Andrea. You look back at my bed, half eaten chips bags and bottles on it. It was a mess. “You can clean that later. Go get in the shower. Wash everything, shave everything, make sure you smell like your about to get your ass ate. Go.” She said pushing me in the bathroom.

“But I don’t have clo-“ You started to speak. “We’ll find you some. Shower.” Emery said and closed the door. They looked in my closet as I showered. You shaved your body, and used my most expensive products.

I stepped out of the bathroom, in a towel. “You smell so much better.” Andrea said with a smile. I went to speak but closed my mouth and furrowed my eyebrows. “No offense.” She cracked a small smile before looking at Emery.

“Anyways, get dressed. We’ll do your makeup when you’re done!” Emery pushed you back in the bathroom with the clothes. Sighing, you put the clothes on. You looked in the mirror and shook your head.

This dress was short and tight. Not to mention, it having no straps and showing the right amount of cleavage while it also had a large dip in the back which stopped just above your ass.

Walking out, Emery and Andrea looked at you and screamed. “You look so good! So much better than those sweatpants.” Andrea hugged you. You started to feel a little better about yourself, forgetting about your ex.

A smile played on your face as Emery sat you down. “It’s time to put my cosmetology degree to work.” She got out her makeup, Andrea sitting me down in a chair.

After about an hour sitting in the chair with Enemy beating your face and doing your hair, you were finally ready. Andrea went to change while she did your makeup. Emery was done and left to go get her outfit on herself, already having her makeup on.

Andrea handed you a pair of black heels, and stood you up. Emery came out of the bathroom fixing her hair. “Are we ready?”

“Where are we going?” I asked the two girls in front of me. “To the club. Now, come on. Go, go.” Andrea gestured for me to walk. Soon enough, we were at the club. It was around 11:30 and the girls were ready to get blackout drunk. You on the other hand, just wanted to forget about your ex and maybe get a little tipsy.

About 30 minutes in to actually getting there, your friends had already left to dance and flirt with the guys there. Sitting at the bar, and taking a shot, a buff guy walks up and orders two drinks. After getting his drinks, he slid one to you.

You look up to see the cat-eyed man. He smiled at you, “You looked lonely.” He smiled and took a sip of his alcohol. His smile seemed warm, so you wasted no time to take a sip as well. “I’m San, by the way.”

“I’m Y/n.” You shook his hand with a smile. It was soft and a little cold. Letting go, the smile stayed on your face.

“So, why are you here, Y/n? Why are you all alone?” He asked. All of the feelings and hurt suddenly started to rush back into my brain. San noticed the hurt on my face. “Hey, are you ok? I’m sorry, did I-“

“No, it’s fine. Trust me. It’s just that, uh, my boyfriend kind of cheated.. and I’m not here alone. I just didn’t wanna dance with my friends.” You let out a short laugh. He nodded his head, understandingly.

Taking another sip of my drink, he began to speak again, “well, maybe we can dance together?” He proposed. I smiled to him, shaking my head with a smile. “Please, I can make you forget about him. And, a bonus, I get to dance with a pretty girl.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach hearing the compliment. It didn’t take long for you to think about it and for you to be on the dance for with San. The music was loud and fun, both of you laughing and having a good time. You’d both go back and forth from the bar to dancing, which ended up making you very tipsy.

In the middle of a very upbeat and happy song, the Dj switched the song to a more sensual and slower song. San’s hands gripped onto your hips, bringing them to his hips; his hips were carved perfectly for your ass. His hands were big, strong, rough and still a little cold. You didn’t even notice your friends watching you and him from the other corner of the room, giggling and smiling while still talking to the boys they’re with.

San was more tipsy than you; some could just say actually drunk. But in his drunken state, San was still able to take notice of how your body felt. How you were still so tense. “Hey, you’re tense. Let me make you forget.” His lips were close to your ear, his voice ringing in your ears. You look back at him, nodding your head.

Not really caring where he took you, San led you out of the club building, and into his car. As he started to drive, his hand rubbed up and down your thigh, finally feeling the roughness of his callused hand.

It felt like forever until you pulled up to a big white house. Before you could reach for the handle, San opened the door for you, helping you out. and in your tipsy state, you could tell how much San was holding back.

San opened the door, holding your hand. If he was honest, he didn’t know how he was able to not push you on the couch and fuck your brains out right there.

He led you upstairs, and into his room when he finally had enough. He turned you around, gently pushing you onto his bed. A small gasp left your lips when he took his shirt off and climbed on top of you.

You had to admit, it was a really nice view. His tones abs, muscles and his perfectly sculpted face had your panties soaked. “Let me take your mind off everything. Please.” His question came out as a beg. I nodded my head.

That was all he needed to start kissing down your neck and onto your chest. He grabbed onto the dress, at the top, and pulled it down. When he uncovered your boobs, he didn’t waste time to sucking on them. He started with the left one. His tongue prodding at your nipple while his hand groped your other boob, pinching your other nipple.

You bit your lips back at his tongue and fingers. “Let me hear you,” he lifted his head up, only to go back to it. My jaw dropped as he switched to the other nipple. Moans flowed out of your mouth as he continued.

He lifted his head and pulled the dress all the way down to your ankles. His lips teased your thighs, kissing on both. You sat on your elbows, looking at him. “San, please.“ You whimpered.

“Tell me what you want, princess.” He kissed closer to your dripping pussy. A sigh left your lips, “your mouth, your lips, anything.” He let out a stifled groan at your begging.

“Ok, princess, anything for you.” His smirk grew as he pulled down your wet panties. “You’re soaking wet, baby.” He smirks. He didn’t want you to suffer too long, yet, so he immediately pushed your legs to your chest.

His tongue dove deep into your wet and sparkling cunt, his nose poking and slightly rubbing against your clit. A loud moan leaving your lips. You grabbed onto his hair, tugging on it. “S-san. Ah!” You moaned when he pulled out his tongue and nibbled on your clit.

“You’re doing so well, baby.” He smiled at you. Your legs were shaking the smallest amount. Heat spread throughout your body as well as San’s. You threw your head back as you felt the coil in your abdomen get tighter and tighter until it finally snapped.

You came in San’s mouth with a moan. Your juices were spread out on his which was now dribbling down his chin. “Wanna know how good you taste?” He asked before kissing you. You both continued to kiss while he was unbuckling his pants, throwing them down.

He grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist. “I’m gonna fuck you so raw, so deep. I’m gonna fill that void inside of you, ok?” His finger fucked you for a few seconds to prep you for his cock.

It wasn’t small but it wasn’t big. And its thickness made up for that. His tip was a darker shade of pink from being trapped in his jeans for too long. Just seeing it made you clench around nothing.

He sucked his fingers, tasting more of you. “You taste so good, baby. Are you ready?” He asked. “I’m ready. Please fuck me dumb.” You begged for him.

“So, good for me.” He pushed his cocked in, bottoming out immediately. Your hands flew to his back, grasping onto it desperately. Read marks already coming up as you scratched down his back. He hissed. “Can I move?” He asked, pushing hair out of your face.

“Yes, please.” You whined. He started to move his hips into yours. High pitched moans slowly came out. Your heels dug into his lower back, but that didn’t last for long. He took your legs off from his hips, putting your legs on his shoulders. He picked up the pace, fucking into you deep like he said.

He watched as your face morphed and whines and begs came out of mouth. Your mind was fuzzy and all you felt was his cocked ramming into your cervix. Your back arched, almost lifting you up a bit.

You could now feel the vein popping out in his cock which just added extra pleasure to your core. “S-San, fuck! Shit,” you drug out as his hips hit harder and faster.

“I’m keeping my promise aren’t I?” He asked. You could barely even remember his promise. All that you could focus on, was how good his cock felt in your pussy. And all that you could hear were wet sounds, his groans and your moans bouncing off the walls. Overstimulation was starting to get to you, but it was too nice to tell him to stop.

“Fucking you so good. You like it don’t you?” He asked, that stupid smirk on his face. “I love it, San. Your cock is so good,” you moaned harshly, grabbing the sheets. You gasped as you felt your core tighten again, “I-I’m cumming. San!” Your broken moans echoed through his house. He giggled at your broken state, fucking you through your climax.

He kept going just a little longer to push himself over the edge. He rammed his cock deeper, one more time, cumming inside of you. You didn’t even care. His cum filling you up was all you needed.

You noticed the silence, looking at San. He was watching as your mixed cum dripped out of your pussy. Your chest heaved up and down. He saw you looking at him, making his cheeks turn red. “Sorry.” He laughed and got off the bed to get a wet rag. He wiped you off as you legs felt like jelly.

“Are you alright?” He asked and you nodded with a smile. He smiled as well, “you seem like you needed it.” He grabbed extra clothes from his closet. He handed you some clothes.

“I did. Thank you, San.” He nodded his head and went downstairs. You got dressed, watching the door, wondering where he is. He suddenly came back in with some water. “Oh, thank you.”

“Of course. It’s the least I could do.” He sat beside you on his bed. “Do you wanna go out sometimes..maybe?” He asked you. You laughed at his question. He seemed really nervous to ask. “Yeah, of course.” You smiled, making his sigh a relief.

[rosielovesf1]

adventures in baby-sitting | LN4

sorry can't talk, at a tea party

word count: 1.1k

warnings: so. much. fluff.

author's note: thank y'all so much for the love on my last post!! sharing stuff i write has always been difficult for me, so it means a ton. hope you enjoy this one!!

“Maybe we should’ve chosen the pink one.”

“Lando, my love.” The corner of y/n's eyes crinkled as she turned to face her boyfriend. He was turning over a small stuffed dog in his hands, fiddling with the soft fluff on its ears. “She’s four and loves animals. She’s going to be ecstatic.” 

He grunted and kept his gaze focused on the stuffed animal. 

“You’re so cute,” she couldn’t help but laugh at him, even in his distressed state. He finally looked up and met her eyes at the soft touch of her fingers under his chin. “Don’t be nervous, lovie.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he whined, despite melting into her touch. “I’ve been less nervous to walk into big meetings. I don’t know why the thought of Maisie not liking me is making me shit myself.” 

“Because you have a huge heart, you’re kind and caring-” Lando’s eyes locked onto hers and softened, the fading daylight bringing out flecks of brown and green. “And happen to be intimidated by a four-year-old.” She kissed his nose playfully before he could pull away. 

“Now come on. She hates when people are late.” That got him moving, pulling her closer to him so he could squeeze her hand as they walked up her sister’s paved driveway. “Ready?” 

He nodded and she kissed his cheek before knocking on the door. It opened pretty much immediately, Lando sucking in a breath as the couple had to look down to see their host. Maisie stood in the entryway with a toothy grin on her face and her hair pulled up into two wispy pigtails. 

“Auntie y/n!” she squealed, launching herself forward to wrap her tiny arms around y/n's legs. 

“Hi, sweetpea.” y/n bent at the waist to hug her back. “I brought a friend with me, too! Oh-”

y/n's sentence was cut off as Maisie ducked behind her legs, peering up at Lando from between them. 

“Maisie, darling, remember that you only open the door with Mummy or Daddy,” y/n's sister, y/s/n, clucked affectionately at her daughter. 

Maisie didn’t look the least bit sorry from her hiding spot. 

“Hi, you guys,” y/s/n said, squeezing y/n into a hug before moving over to hug Lando. “Thank you so much for babysitting!”

“Anytime, y/s/n,” Lando smiled, his eyes darting curiously back and forth between y/s/n and Maisie. 

“Mais, Auntie y/n and Uncle Lando are going to stay with you tonight, okay?” y/s/n said, beckoning her daughter out from behind y/n's legs. Lando’s cheeks warmed at y/s/n's verbal confirmation of his place in their family. “Can you say hi to him?” 

Maisie waved shyly, still clinging to her mum. 

“Hi, Maisie!” Lando said, bending down to her level. y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the change in his tone of voice. “Your auntie and I brought you something.” 

He brought out the dog from behind his back, and Maisie’s eyes widened. She let out a squeal of delight and rushed forward, happily accepting the stuffed animal from Lando’s outstretched hands. 

Maisie hugged the dog tightly, tucking it under her arm. “She’s pink!”

y/n bumped Lando’s shoulder as he stood back up, saving her “I told you so” for later. 

“Lucky girl. Alright, I’ll be back by nine, and all of the emergency info is on the counter.” y/s/n beckoned them into the house and grabbed her purse from the table by the door. “Thank you both, again. Call if you need anything.” 

“Of course,” y/n said, running a hand over Maisie’s hair. “Say bye to Mummy!”

Maisie waved goodbye, the door shutting softly behind y/s/n after she blew her daughter a kiss, and all of a sudden the house was quiet. y/n waited one, two, three seconds and blew out a sigh of relief when it seemed that the risk of the little girl crying at the departure of her mum was low. 

Maisie looked up at them, seemingly taking a second to assess their presence. Her mind made up, she grabbed both of their hands, leading them over to a tiny table with two chairs and a pink teapot. “You sit here with doggie,” Lando was led to the chair on the left, and she placed her dog carefully in his lap. “And auntie goes here.” y/n sat down in the chair next to him, shifting to get comfortable in the toddler-sized seat. 

“This is Maisie’s tea party!” She exclaimed excitedly, dashing around to fill their cups from the teapot. She waited expectantly for them to drink and they both compiled, lifting the tiny cups to their lips. y/n winked at Lando over her cup, and he nudged her foot with his under the table. 

Their moment was interrupted by their host, who chastised Lando for not pointing his pinky out while holding his cup. Lando happily complied, and the trio enjoyed their tea party as the clock ticked closer to Maisie’s bedtime. 

After y/n and Lando had their fourth cups of tea, y/n set hers down and turned to face her little niece. “Hey goober. We gotta get to bed.” 

“Can doggie come to bed, too?” Maisie asked, sticking out her bottom lip at Lando. 

“Of course,” he replied, passing the stuffed animal over to her. 

“Okayyyy.” Maisie got up from her chair at the head of the table, one hand securely wrapped around her stuffed animal, and the other reaching up to grasp Lando’s. His eyebrows raised in surprise at y/n, and she grinned at him, mouthing “I think somebody likes you.”

Lando smiled down at the little girl and let her lead him over to her ocean themed room, complying with her request to be tucked in. He took extra care to make sure that the dog was securely tucked under the blankets as well. y/n just hung out in the doorway, her heart swelling at the sight of her boyfriend being so tender with her niece. 

As Lando said goodnight and y/n turned off the lights, Maisie mumbled out a sleepy “Good night, Uncle Lando.” 

“Good night, Maisie,” he called back, a wide smile breaking out across his face as he walked to stand behind y/n in the doorway.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “She called me Uncle.” 

“I did, love,” she smiled, turning her head to meet his eyes. “You’re so good with her.” 

The corners of his eyes crinkled at the compliment, and he moved so he was facing her. “Maybe Maisie needs a cousin,” he said with a cheesy grin. 

“Hmm, maybe.” She stood up on her tiptoes to brush her nose against his, before capturing his lips in a kiss. “It’d be fun to have another little one running around.”

“I can’t wait.”

@landonorris: sorry can’t talk, at a tea party 🫖

@y/nl/n: auntie duties 🫡

[violettwrites]

the fence is white. the lawn is dead. 🏹 daryl dixon

a/n: hi guys !! sorry i haven’t been super active lately but this popped into my head tonight and i thought i’d post it for y’all !! i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

if you enjoyed, please don’t forget to like, reblog, and/or comment !!

this is my masterlist

and my ask box is currently open !

summary: as the greene farm falls, reader reminisces on her time growing up at the farm. a certain southern male comes along to make sure she gets away safely.

pairing: daryl dixon x greene!daughter (middle child)

warnings: angst !!?

word count: 670

— — —

there was nothing more you hated than the apocalypse. because all it did was take. it took the people you loved the most: your mother, step brother, friends, and now, the place you had grown up in, where you called home.

standing there in the distance as you watched the flames take over the barn, reflecting in your eyes. it could be seen for miles— and to you? it looked like the end of the world. you continued to watch, frozen in place as the place you grew up was overrun by walkers.

that’s all this world did now. it took, and took, and took. and it would continue to do so until everything was gone. until there was nothing left but the undead.

you squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, just wishing that you could go down with your family home— but you knew you couldn’t. because you had to survive. keep the memory alive. because once you were all gone? there would be no one to remember the greene family farm.

pulled from your thoughts by a familiar rumble of a motorbike engine, you turned your head to see a headlight pointed at you; the familiar silhouette getting off his bike and making his way over to you. his pace was rushed, but still steady.

you had grown close with the southern male during his group’s stay at your family’s farm— he had taught you how to use his crossbow, and you had taught him how to ride a horse after he had admitted to you that he was scared of them.

”they’re just too big,” he huffed, arms leaning on the fence of the stables as you stood on the other side, hand brushing over the neck of chestnut, a smile on your face.

“they’re gentle giants,” you retorted, shaking your head as you continued to pat the brown gelding, fingers brushing through his mane.

“c’mon, we gotta go,” daryl called out to you as he neared you, arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders in an attempt to lead you back to his bike.

“it’s gone—“ your voice cracked as you spoke, looking over your shoulders as you let him lead you. you knew better than to put up a fight, especially with a horde that big, but it still split your heart in two. seeing the place you and your sisters grew up just taken away.

you could remember every single little detail about growing up there. the grass between your toes during the summer, how you and beth would take turns on the tire swing your father had put up in the tree, and the many, many arguments between all three of you girls, but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

“i know,” daryl spoke softly, his voice low as he moved to stand in front of you, fingers brushing your hair off your face. usually, you would blush. but right now you couldn’t even think straight. “‘m sorry, darlin’. but we really gotta go.”

daryl climbed onto his bike, hands on the handle bars as he looked at you. waiting. you took one more look at the place you called home before climbing onto the back of daryl’s bike, arms wrapping around your torso before he sped off down the dirt road— assuming towards the rest of the group.

you watched the barn in the side mirror of daryl’s bike, your heart crumbling in your chest as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade, tears slipping down your cheeks. you could feel him move his hand from the handles of the bike, gently placing it over your hands on his stomach, giving you a gentle squeeze. the gesture was small, but it made you feel less alone in the moment.

with his hand back on the handle, you closed your eyes as you let the wind whip around you, memories flooding your mind as you left your home behind, trying to keep every single memory locked in your mind forever.

[jymwahuwu]

I feel like I have goldfish memory but good news, I remembered what scenario I was thinking about for once.

So what if reader was trapped in a samsara like the sabzeru festival (is that how you spell it?) But instead of a festival setting it's the day where she got kidnapped by our beloved general.

On this day she got kidnapped it was just supposed to be another ordinary day but then the kidnapping happens and the next morning she sees that's she's back at home and now throughout the day she's been trying to find different ways to prevent the event but always fail in the end.

The only twist here is that Jing Yuan starts to notice how we start to predict his moves and whatever he's going to do so he starts to catch onto what's happening and tries to stop us from going into another samsara but since we don't know that he knows about this time loop he just pulls a move that we weren't expecting and kidnaps us again.

Idk if you've done this but my ✨insomnia✨ ain't letting me sleep till I type this whole thing out 😭

🍰anon

I'm starting to worry about your sleep 🍰anon 😭🥺 You seem to be as sleep deprived as me.

And never thought time loops could be so interesting! This reminds me of a gaslighting post I read before where a girl broke up with her boyfriend and he kept manipulating her by pretending that they never broke up. But this is really a time loop >_<

-CW: yandere, kidnapping, non-con, breaking into your home

On the day of the kidnapping, the sky was overcast, and the continuous dark clouds organized and gathered, swallowing up the sun. Just an ordinary day, a rainy day. The lights of passing spacecraft and the crowds. You complete your daily activities as usual, such as working/resting/shopping/walking/dining. Opening the door, you took off your shoes and packed your rain gear in the hallway, not noticing anything unusual at home…and then…you fell into a coma.

When you wake up, you're in a luxurious room with a cute cartoon tape covering your mouth. You mumbled something incoherent, thrashing around in panic. The huge figure turned - who was that? Who is that? This stranger had long, layered white hair, broad shoulders, and muscles that seemed to be hidden under the armor and cloth. As soon as he saw you waking up, he immediately approached you and spoke softly. "Oh, you're awake. I've already taken a bath for you. Don't worry." The rain fell pattering outside the general's mansion.

What bath? What bath!? For you? Your eyes widened, tears of horror running down the tape. A flash of lightning flashed across your face quickly and then disappeared. Jing Yuan held your face and looked at it for a while before kissing the tape on your lips. "Sh- don't be afraid. I'll be good to you."

If you respond tactfully, there's a chance you won't get fucked immediately on the first day. After a good night's sleep, you find yourself back home, like you've never been kidnapped!! You thought you were having an immersive dream and didn't care, but you've been kidnapped again. What happened happened again.

Check the time on your phone:

[same date].

You have searched several times and calendars on the Internet, but all of them are stuck on that day and have not moved forward. Maybe this is an opportunity to change the kidnapping? You start searching and investigating who that person really is. Of course, Jing Yuan told you the name (lovers will know each other's names.) You found his introduction on the Space Online public think tank… Uh… Jing Yuan is one of Xianzhou's generals.

Xianzhou Alliance, isn’t that a well-known space civilization alliance? He kidnapped you…does anyone believe it?

Within the time loop of the same day, you tried more than ten ways and routes to avoid being kidnapped, including returning home at different times, sleeping at a friend's house, preparing weapons, taking friends home, renting a hotel room to rest, etc. . Without exception, all failed. He can always resolve and recognize your defenses and lead you away.

Jing Yuan actually knows this time loop and all the struggles and precautions you take. He can't help but see how far you can go, how smart you can be, but doesn't want you to actually escape his chessboard.

Until, after you were kidnapped again, you thought you would wake up and return home…but no. Moreover, Jing Yuan has found a way to end this day's time loop, preventing you from entering another loop. He has Xianzhou technology support after all. You look around the room - this is still the General's mansion.

Why?

Jing Yuan enjoys the fruits and sweetness of victory. Putting you at his mercy - stopping your resistance, his warm palm rubbed between your swollen thighs, spreading your buttocks. He holds you with your legs spread forward, holding you like you were a cute puppy, and penetrates you with his cock. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"The only timeline is that we fell in love."

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi again! Here's the second Henry Sherlock X Peaky idea I had if you wanted! It would be a Sister Holmes X Tommy Shelby where reader is Tom's secretary and has just stated dating him but hasn't told her family yet because she hasn't seen them in a while. Then maybe one day a girl (badly disguised as a boy) is caught snooping around the betting shop and as Arthur takes her to Tom's office for questioning the reader immediately clocks it as her little sister who a agreed to spy for Sherlock. Then reader finds him and is berating him for putting Enola in danger while Sherlock is mad about her ruining their cover because he's investigating Tom for a case and as their arguing the reader says she knows Tom didn't do it because he was with her at the time (maybe she reveals the hickies) and Sherlock just freezes and goes into big bro mode while the Shelby family is trying to figure out what's going on because for once they didn't commit this crime and they haven't heard about the readers family yet. And yeah! That was the other idea😂 idk which to send in so you can choose which you'd rather do! Feel free to change anything about them too! I just desire some Sherlock x Peaky goodness 😂 ❤️❤️ also I hope those weren't too long I just didn't know how to explain them shortly!

Have a great night/day/time! ❤️❤️ and remember: GO YOU!!

Hey Love,

Hope you enjoy this and thank you for waiting so long! Was away on vacation (realized I didn't post that I was away.) Thanks again for these requests! they were so fun!!!

Warnings: Mention of child trafficking/conflict between family / peaky blinders-related themes

You were tired after being up all night. The conditions were nothing to complain about though. You lay in bed thinking about the chaos that surrounded your boss, and your relationship to him. You knew he wasn’t always a good man. But just like the morning sun streaming through your curtains, your mind was hazy. 

This feeling was not something you had experienced before. Complete ease. You were relaxed when he was around, and you even enjoyed being around his family. The feeling was addictive and considering the family you were born into it wasn't a mystery how you had ended up with such an appetite. 

While the Shelby family could match your folks for chaos, they had a consuming warmth about them that was foreign to you.

You thought long and hard on your way to the betting shop. This emotion could be a result of lovemaking, you knew enough about brain chemistry to know that there was a scientific side to these things. But why were you so happy the rest of the time? Why were you becoming so attached to him and his family? 

You got to the betting shop and were thankful to see tea brewing in the kitchen upstairs. You poured a cup and grabbed a muffin from the counter before settling in at your desk. 

Your mind was finally distracted from trying to sort out your feelings. Relief flooded you as you tied your hair out of the way and dug into the various file folders. You were doing your favorite, well, second favorite thing. Analyzing data for patterns. This particular situation was close to your heart you wanted to find the evidence as quickly as possible. 

You were so consumed with compiling evidence that you didn't even notice that something had kicked up in the betting shop until Arthur had dragged the commotion to the front of your desk. 

He held a girl dressed in boy's clothes by the collar of her shirt. The girl was young with a face that resembled yours a great deal. Your stomach dropped and you weren't sure if you wanted to shout at him to take his hands off of her or die of embarrassment. 

Your own appearance was embarrassing enough, your hair was tied up in a scarf, and your thick-rimmed reading glasses probably only made your eyes look even wider than they were. 

“Enola?!” You hissed. Your whole nervous system kicked into high gear. She could have been killed. Arthur could have killed your baby sister. 

You stood up and Arthur was smart enough to release his grip on her. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” She looked up at you with sad eyes, a trick that had been abused many times over the years of broken dolls and colored pencil scribbles on the pages of your books. 

“Arthur?! What on earth-” Polly shouted from upstairs. 

“Eh - Looks like it's being handled,” Arthur called back, giving you a wink. His face told you that he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling. Older sibling to older sibling, he was going to let you handle your sister. Rather than the alternative, which would have been to put her in the cellar till Thomas got back. 

Your stomach dropped. 

“Enola what the fuck.” Your voice was low and she gave up on looking sad. 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and you fought the urge to slap her. She gave you a meaningful look and slowly said “It’s family business” 

Arthur snorted slightly. Polly was coming down the stairs. 

“I called Thomas. Now what is going-” She started but you cut her off. 

“Enola, why are you here, I trust them with family business.” 

“Well, you shouldn't.” She snorted and you hated the arrogance that was radiating off of the girl. This attitude and performance lead you to the conclusion that Sherlock must have sent her. She was always hungry for his approval. 

“What does Sherlock want with them?” You asked firmly. Her eyes widened slightly but she brushed it off. 

“How long have you worked here?” She said giving you a cold look. 

“I’m the one interrogating you.” You reminded her. “Now where is Sherlock? I’ll just ask him myself.” 

Just then as if summoned he came through the doorway with Thomas. Your temper flared up and you gripped the edge of your desk to steady yourself. 

“Could have just called me.” You said trying to keep the anger out of your voice. 

“You can’t really be trusted on this one.” He said in his usual unbothered tone. You knew that this mess was clearly for an ongoing case and that because you were employed here you couldn't be involved. But it hurt non the less. 

“Right.” You said narrowing your eyes. “Get it over with. Now.” You demanded, unsure if Arthur took a step closer toward you in an effort to show solidarity or if it was in case you ended up being a threat to the family. 

“Well, I’ve been employed by a family to investigate the Shelby family here. Yesterday it became an active murder investigation..” 

You watched an expression cross Thomas’s face and you wondered if he lied about that part of his life being packed away. You caught a look of confusion on Polly’s face that quickly turned into a stony mask. She didn't know what this was about, but she’d turn on you if it was necessary. 

“What family and when?” You said sharply. You felt Thomas’s cold eyes stay locked on you. 

“Harris, I placed the time of death around 8pm.” He bit back. 

“We were at dinner, I can account for his whereabouts for the whole evening. Before you accuse me of lying, I’ve been looking through all their books and paperwork.” You picked up the papers you had been collecting your findings on. You almost wanted to laugh at your luck, for once you had the upper hand. 

“Your employer didn't take too kindly to us after we refused an offer they made regarding the children at the orphanage.” Sherlock’s face paled slightly. “I’ve got more than enough evidence through the paperwork here to put them away for life. Human trafficking.” 

You both entered a famous Holmes staring contest and he knew that he’d messed up. You weren't expecting him to look so angry though. Sure when you were children he would get mad like this. You hoped he was angry at the horrible crimes being committed but something in your stomach said otherwise. 

You wanted to break and look to Thomas. You suddenly became aware yet again that your hair was messy and you were still wearing your glasses. You normally always took them off when someone was approaching. Your cheeks got slightly pink at the thought of him judging you. 

“The real question is what will we do to bring them down,” Polly said trying to break up the tension. 

“Why this?” Sherlock’s voice cut like a knife as he gestured to the room.  

“We can discuss this later.” He didn't budge and you were grateful that Polly started to pull Enola up the stairs. 

“Come let's get you some tea and a snack,” She said quietly. Polly shot Arthur a look over her shoulder. He gave you a reluctant look but followed her out of the room. 

Thomas stayed against the wall looking as relaxed and bored as he always did when in the company of outsiders. 

“Why them?”Sherlock repeated once he realized Thomas wouldn't be leaving, and you realized it was the same question that had been nagging you all morning. 

“They make me happy. He makes me happy.” You said quickly. 

“They are criminals.” 

“These are hard-working people. You snoop around if you like, but you won't find anything criminal here.” You knew this because you handled the transition of the business yourself. 

“I don't like it.” He said firmly and the emotion he was giving off finally made sense. He wasn't one-upping you, he was trying to protect you. 

“You wouldn't like it if it was anyone else either.” You said with a small smile finally understanding. “I’m sure we can help each other with this?” You gestured to the paperwork. 

“Of course.” He nodded and came to stand next to you. Just like that things fell into their usual flow,  you explaining a pattern and him trying to prove you wrong to help narrow it down. You and him went back and forth at a rapid pace and within a few moments, he was in agreement with you. Just then you heard Enola speak. 

“Did I miss all the good stuff?” She asked Thomas and you looked up, breaking your concentration. He gave her a small smile. Once seeing his friendly nature you went back to pulling the last of the stolen documents you hadn't examined yet. 

“I think they have most of it sorted,” Thomas responded. 

“Damn.” Enola sighed. “Was it cool? I bet it was cool.” 

“Very.” Thomas’s response caught you off guard. 

“Sorry about your shop - and everything.” She said in an uncharacteristically shy voice.

“It’s alright. Feel free to stop by anytime.” You watched Enola’s face light up at his words. While they were legal on paper, you knew this was a dangerous place and probably always would be. Was Sherlock's world any different? As long as the family kept her safe she would be fine you reassured yourself. 

“Thanks.” She held out her hand to him.

“Enola.” 

“Thomas.” 

They chatted and your heart got a little bit softer the more they spoke. 

“This is enough to take to the inspector.” Sherlock finally said officially letting you win in his own way.

Your eyes snapped up and looked to Thomas, he was listening to something Enola was explaining. He gave you a nod before looking back at your little sister. 

“Excellent - erm Thanks.” You said not sure how to proceed with things. “I know they have a rough history. But so do we.” 

“You and Enola are my responsibility. I’ll be around.” He gave you a long look before standing up. He shook hands with Thomas and you walked him and Enola to the front door. You said your goodbyes and watched them hail a cab. 

Once they were on their way you took a few deep breaths before going back into the shop. You took your hair down and tucked your glasses into the pocket of your sweater. 

After another moment you went back inside to apologize. 

You came back in and heard their voices from the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like they were filling John in on what he had missed. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like watching a machine or something.” Thomas said and you weren't sure how you felt about his words. You were a receptionist on paper, you could have done many things with your life. But this job was invisible. No one bothered you, no one compared you to either of your big brothers. It was comfortable. When Thomas asked you to take a look at things you were simply going to give him your findings so he could bring those bastards down. You didn't want credit or publicity. You certainly didn't want him to see you as that nerdy girl with glasses who had so often been belittled. 

“Machine or not, she’s one of them. She’s handled everything! She could take us down any moment - you just can’t-” Polly hissed and you felt her words cut through you like hot knives. 

“I’ll handle it.” Thomas cut her off darkly and you felt like you had been dunked into cold water. 

“Tom - at least hear her out. Not like they treated her nicely. Maybe she’s different?” Arthur said in a pleading tone but there was no response. 

You knocked on the door frame to announce your presence. Sharp eyes landed on you and you took a breath trying to look composed. 

“Walk me home?” You asked Thomas and he looked at you for a long moment as if he was studying something strange in a museum. He gave you a nod and took your arm. 

He didn't say a word the whole way back. You felt his eyes land on you periodically and each time your heart rate sped up. These were last looks and you could feel parts of you start o spin out of control. 

You opened the door to your flat with shaking hands. Once you pushed it open the stuffy air made it even harder to breathe. He shut the door and locked it, the sound making your chest constrict even tighter. You felt like you were being suffocated, but now wasn't the time to show such emotions. 

“Why did you help us?” The question was simple and you were relieved he was going to hear you out, even if he just had the patience for a fraction of the story, it would lessen the burden on your chest significantly. 

“You needed help. You wanted to be better.” It was hard to get your voice up above a whisper. Your mind flashed to all the times you wondered about him and his family and why they would be converting their business over to be completely legal in the first place. They would reach much farther opportunities being shady. What was in it for them? But there was always something shining in Thomas’s eyes that answered your question. Pride. He didn't care about making more money at this point. He cared about his family being respected after a hard life of being dismissed and shit on. 

You remembered the various balls and social events you had been forced into at Mycrofts side. All the men that had tried to take your hand in marriage. All from grand wealthy families that had started much like Thomas had. It was unavoidable. You thought about how your life would have been as a wife instead of a gangster's girlfriend. 

“You could have turned us in any time. Given your bothers the tip-off”

Brothers plural. So he knew Mycroft too. Fuck. 

“Why would I?” You mumbled feeling defeated. “They care about themselves. Well, not Sherlock, he cares in his own way. Enola is just a kid still. Mycroft only cares about himself.”

“He hasn't pressured you for information on us?” 

“We would have to talk for him to do that. As far as he knows I’m a “worthless spinster living within the dregs of society.” You mocked his voice feeling frustrated. If his existence was the thing to fuck this up for you, you would find a way to make him pay for it. 

“Why didn't you tell me about your family?” He was still as cold as you expected him to be but there was a slight toe of hurt in his voice. 

“Well, there's the Holmes family that everyone sees and then the other side. I just - I really like it here. Your family is - more - they like me. They seem to enjoy having me around. It’s not a big competition all the time. And then you -” Your voice cut and tears started to become unavoidable. 

“Well, nothing bad has happened.” he shrugged. “Mycroft certainly doesn't know we're together.” He said with a smile. You wanted to know how he knew that.

“Everything was destroyed anyway. It would be my word against yours, and as you can see no one listens to me anyway.” 

“I do.” He said and pulled you against him into a tight hug. 

_________________

He proposes shortly after.

Mycroft finds out and needs to be taken to the hospital because he thinks he's having a heart attack

Sherlock randomly shows up at Arrow House while You are shopping with Enola. Examining the whole house while Tommy smokes and follows him. Eventually, Sherlock agrees that this is a fine house for you to run. That if Thomas fucks up in any way that Sherlock would kill him and that Sherlock was sure he wouldn't get caught. They shake on it.

They end up working together occasionally. Enola becoming very attached to Esme & Polly. Sherlock eventually becoming fond of the family and occasionally accepting a dinner invitation when he had time.

[yokohamapound]

howdy! can we get some hcs for ranpo, chuuya, and akutagawa missing (or forgetting) their s/o’s birthday?

FungusWitch: Hello! My best bish, UnluckyAmulet, has once again graced us with a guest post of delicious headcanons, so I hope you enjoy!

Please check out her AO3! She also writes for Bleach, BNHA, Durarara, Dangan Ronpa, and JJK, among others!

Characters: Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Contains: NSFW, birthday sex, bondage

Edogawa Ranpo

Of the three, Ranpo is far and away the smartest, in both intellect and emotional intelligence. It's very unlikely you can hide how you feel about him missing your birthday from him - even if you haven't been dating Ranpo for long, if you're his s/o, he knows you. He can read your mood like a 3-D pop-up book. It's disconcerting but also oddly comforting.

It is very unlikely he forgot your birthday - it's more probably that he was doing a job for the Armed Detective Agency and got so wrapped up in it that he temporarily set aside everything else until it was finished. When Ranpo is chasing an interesting case it's nigh on impossible to get him to focus on anything else.

Once his hyperfixation ends, though, he does feel a little guilty. You ARE the s/o to the World's Greatest Detective, after all, so logically that means you ought to be celebrated! He gets right to it, roping in poor hapless Atsushi and other members of the Agency into decorating the office for your birthday. Of course he knows what gift you want (and probably makes Atsushi, Kunikida or someone go out and actually buy it. What? He'd get lost if he had to take the train to the mall!) He still takes credit when you praise him for being so thoughtful.

Ranpo tends to be a little lazy and spoiled, but for you, on your special day, he very nobly puts that aside to spoil you for a change. You wanna go do something fun like visit an amusement park or go to a concert? Great! He'll have Fukuzawa pay for tickets! You want to do something more lowkey, maybe chilling at home cuddling and watching movies with him? Awesome, he'll get popcorn! You wanna go out partying and getting shitfaced? Well…he's not much of a drinker, but he'll still come with to dance with you and hold your hair back when you puke. (He'll make Fukuzawa come pick your drunk ass up.)

And don't forget a long, long night of some truly incredible oral - Ranpo's best asset in the bedroom is that tongue of his, so he's going to go to town on you~

Remember to lavish him with praise over what a great boyfriend he is. He needs the validation, okay?

Nakahara Chuuya

With Chuuya he was probably doing a mission for Mori and simply didn't have time to be there or he did forget. His way of making it up to you is simple - gifts. Chuuya is very wealthy thanks to being a high-ranking Port Mafia agent, so whatever you want is yours. That new Prada bag? Done. You want a spa day with all the works? Already booked. Fanciest resturaunt in town? He can just waltz in and get a table whenever he wants.

This may sound all fine and great, but Chuuya may not immediately notice how you're feeling about him missing your birthday - he'll apologise but in a "Oops, sorry, babe!" kind of way and you'll have to be upfront with him if you're actually upset. Chuuya does have a bit of a bad habit of buying your affection when he's too busy to spend time with you, because he's used to people depending on him and being seen as a provider. If you like gift-giving as a love language then you might not consider this an issue, but he does somewhat use his money to assuage feeling guilty and avoid discussing it because he doesn't like seeing you upset.

Also, Chuuya has no memories of before he was seven years old and I doubt very much he got to celebrate his birthdays much when he was running around Suribachi with the Sheep. Sure, he can afford to go ham for his birthday now, and his subordinates gives him gifts (Koyo always buys him wine), but he might not quite grasp the emotional significance of birthdays. Sit him down and explain to him that you appreciate the gifts, but you want him, YOUR BOYFRIEND to be with you, not a credit card.

To make it up to you, Chuuya will give you a birthday fuck that goes on all night. If you have a position or kink you haven't got around to requesting from Chuuya, now's the time, because he intends to make you feel so good you can barely walk the next day.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

I'm gonna be honest, Akutagawa is not particularly understanding or sympathetic. At least, not right away.

He grew up in the slums with his kid sister, surviving off scraps and learning to fight from a very young age. Akutagawa likely had no concept of what a 'birthday' even was except just being another year he's managed to survive in the hellhole he was born into. Even now he's an adult and can afford to do whatever he wants to celebrate if he so chooses, he's not a very birthday person. He always buys a gift for Gin and will get something for his superiors as a token of respect (because it's expected of him), and he'll begrudgingly tell Higuchi "happy birthday", but overall he doesn't consider them that important. He does appreciate being given gifts, but doesn't think of them as a necessity.

So if you get upset or angry with him, he's liable to bite back at first. Akutagawa has trouble apologising because he was never apologised to when he was treated poorly, so he's generally not good at owning up to his mistakes. Like Chuuya, you need to explain to him that even if he doesn't place much importance on birthdays, you do and it hurts you that he doesn't seem to care.

That will get to him. For as grumpy and quick to violence as he is, he does care about his s/o greatly and he doesn't want to lose you. He doesn't even know why you love him in the first place, but he isn't willing to throw your whole relationship away over something trivial like this. So, he'll treat you to whatever you want. He's got the money to really spoil you and he doesn't take much time off, so he'll be able to free up his schedule. (Gin will also remind him next time or help him set up a reminder on his phone so he doesn't miss it in future.)

Try not to force him to come clubbing or some other loud, crowded activity. He won't refuse because he feels bad, but he'll ruin the mood by brooding in the corner like a wilting plant and he gets overstimulated and grouchy quite quickly. But he doesn't mind treating you to a posh meal or going on a holiday or something like that.

I hope you don't mind being tied up, because once somebody explains to Akutagawa the concept of birthday sex, he will go find you immediately and use Rashomon to hold you still for hours while he works you over - that's one birthday tradition he doesn't consider frivolous~

[therhythmafterthesummer]

IF you ever change your mind and your fingers are itching to post the pretty getting a backhanded compliment Drabble just know that I’ll be willing to receive

previous ask for reference

you know what??? sure. this is way longer than i remembered it to be so i'm not sure i can call it a drabble anymore lol

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~3k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · smut | established relationship | physical descriptors of the reader such as: being curvy/chubby and having an absolute dumptruck · annoying co-workers · usage of the word fat in a very neutral manner · Chris in a suit (figured that warrants a warning) · alcohol consumption (very moderate) · possessiveness · pet names · oral [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method used, but reader is presumed to be on some form of birth control] · praising · creampie · breeding kink

You hardly ever attended events related to work. You only got along with a few people there who you even hung out with outside of the office sometimes, people who coincidentally also hardly ever attended these events. But for some reason, your boss really wanted you to come to this party, and when she told you you could bring a plus one, you figured having your lovely boyfriend there with you would make things much more bearable.

And it did. 

It was a fancy event, and seeing Chris all dressed up stirred butterflies in your belly. The white button-up shirt, the tie, the perfectly fitted black suit… He looked absolutely delectable. The only thing you weren’t too fond of was the fact that he’d asked you to straighten his hair. It was fine, he looked dashing as ever, but you just loved his curly hair so much more. 

Even with the eyebrow slit he’d recently gotten, he still looked like he belonged at the event, and being honest, you did, too.

You chose to wear a lovely black dress, strapless, with thigh slits, sheer tights, and heels. The dress hugged your figure pretty much perfectly, and you were one-hundred percent sure of it the second you were going into the event venue, and you felt Chris’ hand on your lower back just as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. ‘Can’t wait ‘til we make it home so I can rip this fucking dress off of you and eat you whole…’

Everything was going fine, you were doing an outstanding job at pretending you cared about anything anyone was saying to you, and Chris, unsurprisingly, had charmed everyone up. As soon as more than two words left his mouth he already had people at his feet, and you honestly couldn’t blame them.

Two whole hours after you arrived you left your boyfriend at the bar to go to the toilet, and when you came back, just like you had predicted, there was someone already chatting him up. It was this girl from your department that hated your guts, and, boy, if you were ready to give her a metaphorical slap in the face.

“Hi, Gina”, there was a polite smile on your face just as you wrapped your arms around Chris’ waist. One of his arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders so he could pull you in to kiss your temple.

Gina was clearly taken aback by your sudden presence, she looked like a gaping fish, and it almost made you laugh.

“Hi, baby. What’re you drinking?”

You directed the question to your boyfriend, who simply handed you his glass. “It’s a mocktail. Try it, pretty”.

“I must say”, Gina started, just as you took a sip of your boyfriend’s fruity drink. “When Chris said he was here with his girlfriend, I didn’t think it’d be you”.

Ah, there it was.

Gina had an excellent way of delivering her messages… In which they’d always sound incredibly diminishing and condescending. You didn’t care much, though. You were used to people like her, so you just brushed it off, like you didn’t even pick up on it. Chris, on the other hand, had gone a bit quiet. The polite smile was gone from his face, and his eyebrows were pulling together the tiniest bit.

“Yep, that’s me”, you replied simply. Chris offered to get you a drink, and you figured a mojito wouldn’t hurt, so you took his offer. He immediately signalled the bartender just as you diverted your attention back to Gina. “You look really beautiful tonight”.

She did. She looked incredibly beautiful in her outfit, so you felt like telling her. Your plan of action with Gina was to kill her with kindness, so you always tried to treat her almost like you treated everybody else–sometimes you did get a bit sarcastic, you’d admit, but it wasn’t the case with your original statement.

Gina forced a smile, and she took a sip of her drink before speaking again. “Likewise. That’s a very revealing dress. You’re really brave for wearing that”.

Of course. A back-handed compliment was always Gina’s way. In her eyes, you were brave for wearing a dress like this one because you were fat, and fat people never felt beautiful or confident enough to wear something that showed skin.

You could now practically feel the anger rolling off of Chris. This could potentially get really ugly, really quickly, so you immediately placed a hand on his chest, stopping whatever it was he was about to say. “I don’t think I understand, Gina. Why am I brave?”

Playing aloof was something that always drove her crazy. You’d lie if you said you didn’t like to do it on purpose. 

Gina blinked a little, and you saw her left eye twitch. “Well… You know…”

“I’m afraid I don’t? This is just how I normally dress for events like these, to be honest with you. So if anything I just feel like I usually do”.

Gina stumbled over her words, mumbling some pathetic excuse before she left altogether, and you finally heaved a sigh of relief as you took the stool she was previously sitting on. Chris’ form relaxed a bit, but you could tell he was still tense.

He thanked the bartender for bringing your drink, and he handed it to you. “What the fuck is that girl’s problem?”

“She just hates me and likes to be annoying about it”, you took a sip of the drink. It wasn’t particularly strong, for which you were grateful. “What was she talking to you about?”

“Honestly? No clue”, Chris took one last swing of his drink, placing the empty glass on the bar right after. “After I introduced myself and noticed she was trying to hit on me, I just stopped listening”.

“Can’t say I blame her for hitting on you”, you chuckled, taking another sip of your drink, placing a hand on your boyfriend’s thigh. “You look absolutely delicious, baby”.

It wasn’t like you liked when people hit on your boyfriend, but you could certainly understand why it happened. Chris was just unfairly handsome. Supernaturally so. Not only that but his entire aura just drew people to him, so at this point you weren’t surprised when someone tried to make a move.

To you, it didn’t matter anyway. Chris was yours, and yours only. Which was something you had absolutely no doubts about. After all, he had made sure to show you time and time again how true that was, so it didn’t make you particularly insecure if people hit on him, it mostly just annoyed you.

A smug smile spread on Chris’ face, and he placed one of his hands on top of yours on his thigh, hiking it further up. “Do I?”

“You do”, you looked him in the eyes as you said it, taking a sip of your drink. Chris’ gaze shifted, to that predator look of his you knew so well, which immediately had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

You crossed one leg over the other. The slit of your dress exposed the skin of your upper thigh, and Chris’ eyes zeroed in on the movement. The tights might as well have not been there. One of the many love bites he’d left on your skin a couple of days ago was perfectly visible below the nylon, exposed only when the slit opened up more than it should probably have.

He stood up from his stool, moving to stand right in front of you, bringing a hand to your hip. Your soft flesh dipped under his tight hold, and you held your breath in anticipation when he leaned in to press a lingering kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear. “Don’t try to rile me up now, pretty… Not unless you want us to get arrested for public indecency”.

You chuckled, but the way your thighs clenched to ease some of the ache that was quickly building between your legs didn’t go unnoticed. When Chris buried his face in the crook of your neck, brushed your pulse point with his nose, and inhaled deeply, you knew that the smell of your arousal probably didn’t go unnoticed, either.

“Say…” Chris spoke once he finally pulled himself away from your neck. “What if we get the fuck out of here?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth”, was the last thing you told him after you dawned the rest of your drink, before you pressed a brief kiss on his lips.

“Oh, fuck…”

After you and your boyfriend stepped through the door of your home, It took probably less than five seconds for him to push you against it and kiss you breathless.

His suit jacket ungracefully hit the floor when you pushed it off of his frame. You hastily untied his tie to also drop it somewhere on the floor just as he was rolling his sleeves up his arms, not detaching his mouth from yours for a second.

You didn’t even manage to unbutton two buttons of his shirt before he was taking a hold of your hips and turning you around so he could press his crotch to your ass. His lips attached your neck, making you whine, making you grind your ass on the very prominent tent in his trousers. His groans whenever you so much as put pressure on his growing erection would always be one of your favourite sounds in this world.

“Fuck, pretty…” Chris pulled you further against his crotch, just as he pressed kisses on your shoulder. “Can’t fucking believe the audacity of that woman…”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Of course Chris was still angry at Gina, you hadn’t expected any less of him. After all, you were comfortable in your body, but Chris was particularly proud of it himself, so he took these things personal. You supposed it was an instinctual reaction.

Before you knew it, he was on his knees, pushing your dress out of the way and ripping your tights. You gasped, surprised. “Chris!”

“I’ll get you new ones…” He replied simply, just as he attached his lips to your buttcheeks so he could suck and nibble your flesh, so he could leave his mark all over. “Fuck…look at this ass. I’ve been going crazy all night just seeing it in this fucking dress, baby…”

Chris gripped both buttocks tightly in his hands, making you whimper. He let go of them only to land mild smacks on each cheek, holding them again to attempt to soothe the sting. You were sure you were dripping already, and your suspicions were proven correct once your boyfriend pulled your thong to the side and got a good look at your bare centre.

“Shit… Push your hips back a bit more, pretty. Arch your back…”

You did as asked, and immediately, his mouth was on you. You swore, loudly, resting your forehead against the cold door of your flat as Chris lapped you up.

Reaching behind you, you buried your fingers in his hair and gripped him tightly, pushing him further into you with a whine. A low growl resonated from Chris, one of those animalistic growls that had goosebumps raising on your flesh, and his movements sped up with your motions.

Everything was a blur after that. You could only register your boyfriend’s devious tongue on your clit, your slit, your ass, anywhere he could reach. It didn’t take long for him to have you coming, to make your legs tremble as your orgasm raked throughout your body.

As soon as he stood back up from the floor, you turned around and pulled him to you, enveloping him in a sloppy kiss. You felt him fumble with his belt and his trousers, and a groan escaped his lips when you lightly scratched his scalp with your fingernails. 

“Sofa. Now”, Chris mumbled against your mouth, right before he pulled himself away from you and started getting out of his bottoms.

You were taking too long to get to your destination, clearly, because as soon as he was bare from the waist down, he took your hand and pulled you towards the sofa. When he sat down, he tugged on your hand, urging you to straddle him. So you did, right as you cupped his cheeks to pull him in for a fervent kiss.

Chris pulled you as close to him as he could, reaching behind you to further break your tights open. Somehow, your thong got caught in the cross-fire, and you would’ve complained about it had it not turned you on so much. He could break all your clothes, for all you cared.

“Need you inside me. Now”, you mumbled against his mouth between kisses, moaning at the feel of his fingers digging on the supple flesh of your ass, at the feel of his shaft dragging through your folds with every roll of your hips.

“Fuck… Go slow, then, pretty baby…”

You’d gotten better at coaxing your boyfriend into giving you his cock with less prep than he’d usually prefer. You were always fine, you were used to him already, considering how often you had sex, so it hardly ever hurt as long as you did go slow.

Separating your bodies a bit, you took his length in your hand, feeling him throb in your grasp as you gave him a couple of pumps. Chris groaned, throwing his head back, and your mouth watered. Both at the feel of him in your hand, and the sight of him, all dishevelled, desperate for you just like you were desperate for him.

“Fuck, perfect little cunt, huh?” Chris mumbled when you started to sink on his cock. He’d told you before, many times, how perfect he thought your cunt was. ‘It’s like… So plump on the outside, just like the rest of you… But so fucking warm and tight on the inside… Makes me wanna eat it all the time, baby, it really does’.

“Your perfect little cunt, Chris. Yours”, you whispered in his ear, whining once he was fully sheathed within your warmth. “Perfect little cunt for your big, alpha cock. Hm?”

Chris hummed, holding your hips tightly so he could guide you to start moving back and forth, letting your clit deliciously rub against his pubic bone. “Your alpha’s cock, pretty. All for you”.

With trembling hands, you unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way so you could press your palms against his heated skin while you kissed him.

Chris always made you feel so full. Not only with his monster cock, but also with the undeniable love he had for you. There was just absolutely no doubt in your mind that this werewolf under you loved you with all of him, and, quite honestly, you had no doubt in your mind that you loved him just as much. You hoped he knew.

“I love you so much”, you gasped, rolling your hips harder against him, and his grip on your hips tightened.

If he didn’t know how much you loved him, you’d remind him. You’d remind him as many times as necessary.

“I love you, too”, Chris replied simply, kissing your cheeks, groaning a bit. “Wanna come again like this, baby? Grinding against me with my cock deep inside you?”

You just nodded, burying your face in the crook of his neck to press kisses on his skin, whining, moaning, feeling your mind empty out, leaving nothing but your boyfriend behind.

“Fuck, I want that, too… Want to feel you come around me, and then rail you on this very sofa. Would you let me, pretty? Let me fuck you dumb?”

You nodded again, speeding the movement of your hips, claiming your boyfriend’s mouth in a heated, sloppy kiss to muffle all the sinful sounds coming out of your mouth.

After a while of this, of just kissing and grinding against Chris, when you started to feel the familiar build up of your orgasm in your belly, you felt Chris’ hands move away from your hips. He dragged them all the way down to your thighs, your calves, and back up, squeezing as he went, humming and groaning into your mouth.

“Pretty, these heels… They make your legs look extra scrumptious”, he dragged his short nails over the fabric of your tights–or what was left of them… “Been–fuck… going insane all night”.

“I–I know”, you replied simply, whimpering a bit as you started to grind even harder against his pubic bone. “That’s why I got them… Why I wore them to go out with you tonight”.

Chris laughed at that, throwing his head back and everything. It made you laugh as well, with the only difference between your reactions being that yours ended in a breathless moan as your boyfriend bucked his hips. “I might be the monster here, but you’re certainly the dangerous one, love”.

“Mmm… My dear monster boyfriend…” You were honestly not even making much sense to yourself, but you vaguely noticed Chris’ gaze softening, which somehow had your lower belly tightening further. “Baby, I’m so, so close…”

“Good”, Chris replied simply, kissing you again.

You needed something extra, though. You knew you could come like this soon, but you were craving a bit more stimulation. “Chris?”

“Mm?”

“My tits”, you mumbled against his mouth, and Chris inhaled deeply, detaching himself from you.

“Want me to play with your tits, love?”

As soon as you nodded, Chris was pulling the front of your dress down so he could cup your breasts without barriers. He dragged his fingers over your stiffening nipples, making you roll your hips harder, faster, and mumble a barely audible ‘More…’

It took only a couple of rolls of your nipples between his fingers for you to finally come crashing down, moaning your boyfriend’s name and burying your face in the crook of his neck. Chris just held you close, mumbling words of praise against your hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

When you caught your breath enough, you pulled away from his neck, smiling brightly at him and bringing him in for a sweet kiss.

“Feeling okay, my love?” Chris asked, pressing lingering kisses on your cheek.

“Perfect, baby”, you replied simply, melting under the motions of his lips.

“Good. Now, let’s get you out of this thing…”

Chris helped you get out of your dress, and as soon as he’d shrugged his shirt off, you were on all fours on your sofa. Knees firm on the cushions, elbows on the armrest, and your boyfriend right behind you, shoving his werewolf cock time and time again within your sensitive core.

In no time, Chris had you a whimpering, moaning mess again. His hands were everywhere, on your hips or your waist to pull you back to meet each one of his precise thrusts, on your shoulders or the back of your neck to hold you in place, or even digging on the supple flesh of your thighs.

“Can’t believe…some people would even dare imply…” Chris brought a hand to your shoulder, pulling back towards him and wrapping an arm around your waist so his chest could be flush to your back. His lips attached to your neck, eliciting more moans to fall from your mouth. “…that this body of yours is anything less than perfect, fuck… So, so perfect. All mine to enjoy… I’m so fucking lucky…”

His relentless pace had your mind completely disconnected from everything outside of your flat’s walls. It took a moment to register what he was saying, to remember the encounter with your co-worker earlier in the evening. It was so insignificant to you, but it struck a nerve of Chris’, clearly.

Bringing a hand behind you to take a hold of his hair, holding onto the backrest for stability with the other, you started to push your hips back to the best of your capabilities in this position, just as quiet moans spilled freely from your lips. If there was anything you were good at at this point, it was knowing what to say to your boyfriend to calm him down in situations like these.

“All yours, Chris…” Your grip on his hair tightened, his thrusts sped up, and you were honestly on the verge of tears. “My soft body all perfect for you and your puppies, hm?”

“Oh, shit–Fuck, fuck. Gonna blow–”

“Stuff me full, Christopher. Gonna stuff me completely full of your pups, right?” 

His hair tickled your skin when he nodded. One, two, three more thrusts and Chris groaned, filling you to the brim with his cum, panting, borderline growling against the skin of your shoulder. His other arm also wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to his body, and you immediately relaxed in his hold.

“Your…” Chris started speaking, a bit breathless. “Your soft body all perfect for me and our puppies…”

You giggled at that, feeling yourself flush.

“Get back on your elbows, pretty…”

You did as asked, lowering yourself again. Chris pulled out, and his cum started leaking from your now swollen hole. You heard him swear, barely a whisper before he started wiping you clean.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I seriously hope you’re not using my black dress to wipe your cum off of me”.

Chris laughed, and he asked you to lay on your back. That was when you noticed it wasn’t your dress, but his shirt he’d used.

“‘Course not, silly”, he started untying your heels to get them off. What was left of your tights came off after, finally leaving you completely bare.

Chris hovered over you for a second, pressing a brief kiss on your lips before he snuggled closer, laying his head on your chest. “I love how you look in that dress, wouldn’t want to ruin it…”

You hummed, burying your fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp. The tips of his hair had started to curl again from his sweat, and it made you smile.

“You looked incredibly handsome tonight, baby…” You couldn’t help but compliment him, kissing the top of his head. “You always do, but tonight especially…”

Chris kissed your chest, finding his way to your neck to lick and kiss your pulse point as well. “And you looked gorgeous, love”.

After a while of cuddles, of a comfortable silence spent catching your breaths, Chris shuffled down your body, kissing his way all the way down to your tummy where he placed loud, lingering kisses there before he stood up from the sofa altogether. He scooped you in his arms, and pressed a brief kiss on your lips, making you giggle.

You found yourselves in your bathroom seconds after, where your boyfriend started drawing a bath while he dropped the words you’d been waiting for all night. ‘Okay, I need you to tell me who was who tonight. I need to put faces to all this office gossip you’ve been telling me for months, baby, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight…’

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

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[volturiprincess]

Headcanons for Volturi kings x Vampire Hunter mate. Their mate hunts vampire but would NEVER hurt them, Mate is male?

Hello dear anon💙. I didn't specify on the gender of the reader, i hope you do not mind. I mentioned this before in a past post with these three that I usually don't do all three (only Caius) but I saw this request and thought it was interesting. I might of gotten carried away 😅. Enjoy :)

(I cant get over this era of Caius, gosh he's gorgeous here, Jamie did him justice😩)

The pure surprise the three had when they found out you are their mate and surprise surprise you are also a Vampire hunter 

You been doing this job for nearly a decade, you came from a long line of hunters so naturally you took this path in life

You have manage to catch many vampires in your life so far

Before meeting your mates you happen to be hunting down a certain Vampire but were not aware they came from a whole coven of Vampires

You later found out the Vampire you were initially hunting down is named Heidi 

Days and days of tracking her initial home, that one night you were caught by a big muscular being with another one who moved with such elegance, the last thing you remembered was seeing black smoke

When you woke up you were on your knees being held by the same two vampires from earlier in the forest and were facing three beings that looked like Kings 

The more you looked you realized they were Vampires, everyone in this room was one

Initially you though you hit the jackpot, but that thought was popped quickly 

You never realized that Vampires could have abilities, the ones you have hunted down in the past were your average ones

But that was not even the strange part, as you looked at the three Vampire kings, you felt a strange feeling 

A feeling of wanting to protect them but also not wanting to harm them in anyway

“Is this love?”

It was until the bored looking Vampire reached out for the jet black haired that hell broke loose

The blonde one was watching the other two with a look of wanting to know what was happening, like he was left out of some juicy chisme (tea)

The jet black haired one looked back at you with a new found look, a look or curiosity 

“You are our mate”

Just from that your life changed, those four words tied you for eternity to three supernatural beings

You still kept your passion as a vampire hunter but you refused to hurt them or the other members 

But being the mate of the Kings you didn't go out as much, since you were still human and your change date was still not determined, you only went out to hunt other Vampires if Demetri was taking a break (you didn't want to take away his job or want to get him executed, he is too beautiful to face such a fate)

When you were with the three, you felt like you could breath, Marcus and Aro were the ones you clicked with instantly 

With Caius it took a while, he was not super fond of a human mate, he wanted you to be turned immediately 

But you felt it was for other reasons, but you soon found out he was holding back feelings because he felt he was to obsessed with the idea of you 

The kings insisted in getting you your own throne but you wanted to stand by them, like a guard, but occasionally you would sit on there armrests on their thrones or if you get lucky on Caius lap 

When the guards were not on duty you would teach them your techniques in hunting other vampires down that you have learned over the years 

The Kings love to watch you work out with your weapons, you caught Aro and Caius with there mouth hanging open when you would shoot your crossbow and hit right on the dummy’s eye

There was a time also when you were sword fighting with Felix (you decided to wear a tank top that day) and your muscles would flex after each swing, lets just say that night they treated you like the only person

So bottom line, even though you are a Vampire hunter, you would never hurt them and they know you wouldn't dare to do anything to them