#mind you she knows my manager loved me and I'm getting a raise this week

[psychedelic-ink]

man living with toxic relatives really is the worst, you come home and you just deal with more bullshit when you should be relaxing

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie wasn't born a Halfa

So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.

A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.

Because the kid was glowing.

When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.

(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)

When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.

"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."

And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.

"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"

"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."

Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!

"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"

She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.

"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".

For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.

It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.

"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."

"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."

"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.

"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."

"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.

"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."

Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!

The Pits perked up

He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.

"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.

"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.

The Pits felt a sense of dread

Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"

"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."

No...

Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.

"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."

NO.

He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.

"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."

...

For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.

...

Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.

Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.

And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.

Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.

When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.

[pokechbi]

🎀I Can Treat You Better Than He Ever Can, Love🎀

Simon Ghost Riley x fem Reader!

NSFW, MDNI !!!

Fem anatomy used

WC: 4.9K

As always, asks are open and every single interaction is so so greatly appreciated! I love u all 🫶

Enjoy loves 💗💗 !!!

You sat in the mess hall, picking at your lunch, your appetite gone for the day. You stared ahead at Konig, sat two tables in front of you. You also stared at the brunette woman sitting across from him, giggling like a fucking schoolgirl at his every word. You watched, your head searing with green, slimy jealousy as she reached over and grazed her fingers over his. Bitch. You muttered quietly, putting the lid on the lunch you had brought from home.

"Someone's got their knickers in a twist." The Brit came from behind you, his steps quieted as always. He sat across from you, blocking your view of the Austrian beast you had your heart set on. You groaned, slumping over in your seat. "What's on your mind, mate" He asks. You look up at him. His gaze scanned your face, landing on your eyes, looking between them. You shifted in nervousness, fiddling with the sleeve of your turtleneck. He was boring a hole into your skin, his eyes dark and strong. You wouldn't hesitate to obey him like a dog when he stared at you like that. But he wasn't the one you had your heart set on. At least not anymore.

Months ago, you and Simon found yourselves alone in a conference room, and you were hell bent on releasing the sexual tension that had managed to build between you both for weeks. He stood towering over you, eyes sliding down your body and undressing you with his eyes. You approached him hastily, running your hands up and down his face, slowly slipping your fingers under the hem of his balaclava. He softly grabbed your hands, lowering your arms back to your sides. You looked at him confused. "I...can't, love." He spoke, his voice close to a whisper. Your heart dropped into your stomach as he said this, your breathing growing strained. You felt the tightening of your throat, tears threatening to well. "I'm your Lieutenant. This won't end well for either of us. You know that." He said gently, hands still wrapped around yours. You parted your lips to speak, your bottom lip quivering with your sadness, turned to pure anger. "So...you led me on?" You asked him. His eyes go wide, instantly shaking his head. " What? No, I didn't lead you on. I never promised anything between us." He scoffed, pointing a gloved finger in your face. "Did you think that our little moments meant that I'd risk my entire career for you?" You looked at him stunned, and began backing away slowly, nodding your head in disbelief. He runs his hands over his face, sighing frustratedly. "Listen...I'm sorry. I didn't mea-" "Save it, Simon. Forget this ever happened. That we ever happened." You spat, throwing the door open and slipping yourself through it. He watched painfully as you left, the sting of rejection stabbing your core.

The memory jabbed at you as he looked at you, the lustful look in his eyes that night slithering its way into your head. You push the thought away. You and Simon agreed to forget it happened, to stay as friends. You didn’t want to raise suspicion to any of the higher-ups, so you carried on like normal. It took weeks, months to feel like you were over him. You dreaded seeing him everyday, avoiding him on missions and around base like the plague. But somehow, he managed to work his way back into your life as if nothing happened. You decided it couldn’t be that bad for you, if anything it’d help you get over him and see him as a friend and nothing more. At least, you did. "Nothing's wrong, Simon. I'm fine." You reply, looking up to meet his eyes again. "Doesn't look like nothin' ". He chuckles. “The way you’re starin’ at Jessie like you wanna curb stomp the poor lass” He says smugly. Jessie. You scoff, your cheeks burning red with irritation. “Does everyone on this base know her fucking name?” You stand to your feet, grabbing your bag and not bothering to trash the container with your untouched lunch. You make your way out of the entrance to the mess hall, your blood boiling with jealousy. What did she have that you didn’t? You roll your eyes, walking hastily to the elevator. You needed to get outside, breathe some air. You felt suffocated in that building, like every single person there was secretly out to get you, knowing your deepest and darkest secrets and hell bent on using them against you. You’d been having shit luck on the field, distracted by the two damning men who plagued your mind. You wanted Konig. Needed him. And while you were friendly while he was stationed on the base, he showed no signs of wanting anything more. And that broke you, making you want to rip the hair right out of your head. First Simon, now him. You couldn’t catch a break.

As you approached the elevator, you felt a strong hand grab your wrist, holding you in place. Without turning around, you could already tell who it was. The smell of his musky, warm cologne wafted up your nose, triggering the memories you had tried so hard to purge from your head. You turn slowly to meet his gaze, the rough pads of his gloves chafing the skin of your wrists. You twist your arm, trying to wring it out of his grip. “Simon, let me go. I’m not in the fucking mood for this.” You spat, slapping his hand. He very easily overpowered you, and he knew that. He stood there, not budging as his death grip grew stronger. “You’re hurting me, Simon.” You cry, feeling the suppressed emotions and frustrations starting to simmer as they threaten to wreak havoc on you. He lessens his grip, but he steps closer to you, now hovering over your face. You turn your face away from him, staring at the floor as you feel his breath heat your skin. “You don’t need to be jealous of her, you know. Konig is nothing special.” He says smugly, disregarding the pure anger written on your features. "He's a door opener. A useless fuckin' wannabe sniper. Why are you so broken up over 'im?" You pause at his words. Did he really need to kick you while you were down?

You glare at him, trying to free yourself from his grasp once more. He finally lets you go, and you waste no time in pressing the elevator button. You don’t respond to him, hoping that if you ignored him he might take a hint and leave you alone. As you listen to the elevator making its way to your floor, you feel Simon step closer and closer behind you. “Don’t ignore me. You can talk to me.” He says, his voice a low grumble. You stand your ground, pursing your lips and scoffing at him. He sighs behind you. The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You step inside, pressing the button to the ground floor. You raise your head to meet his gaze, and he wastes no time in stepping into the elevator with you before you can close the door on him. “Come on. Stop being so stubborn. Why won’t you-” 

“Simon, the last time I confided in you about my feelings, you rejected me and led me to believe you cared when you couldn’t have given less of a shit about them. And now you want to act like you give a fuck about what I feel? Please, spare me.” You say sarcastically, shaking your head at him. He doesn’t break his gaze, but instead keeps his eyes on you, running them over your face. For a split second, his eyes land on your lips. You feel your heart flutter as you notice it, being that you wouldn’t have caught it if you blinked. You curse him in your head, knowing this would lead nowhere good. He was leading you on again, giving you false hope. He was conjuring old feelings that you were sure were buried deep in you. Sure, the memories manage to seep through once in a while, but ultimately -  he had you whipped- and he knew that. The way you wanted to drop to your knees and let him degrade you, wishing he’d slam you up against this wall and take you right in this elevator…all because he looked at your lips. You needed to get a hold of your feelings, and fast. You were sure you would lose control if he tried anything, and it made you feel less than. You lacked self control when it came to your feelings, leading you to be hurt many times. You lacked self control especially when it came to Simon. 

“Love…I..” He steps closer to you, and by God’s will, the elevator doors slid open. You rushed out, grabbing your car keys from your bag and speed walked out of the door and to your car. Your eyes stung against the winter air, flushing your cheeks. You fumbled with the keys, pressing the button to unlock the door before you reached it. The sun had begun to set, rays of sunlight beaming over your face. As you reached your car, you heard him approach behind you. You groaned, turning to face him. You glared at him, his eyes pleading with you to listen to what he had to say. Your head was spinning, not knowing what you wanted more: For him to leave you alone, or take you right there, fucking you so deep you could feel him in your guts. You stood there, watching him in silence. The wind picked up, pushing your hair into your face. He stepped forward, his face hovering dangerously close to yours. Your breath hitched in your throat, not knowing how to react. Your mind constantly fought between pushing him off, telling him to fuck off and to quit these games of his, or just submitting to his every touch and letting the thoughts of resisting die in your head. “Please, just listen to me.” He says, running his hands up your arms. You gently shy away from his touch, shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say, Simon. You’ve said enough already.” You say, a slight tremor in your voice from adrenaline. You didn’t know why he was doing this, complicating the feelings for him that you had worked so hard to store away. Why was he doing this? Now, of all times, when you found yourself remotely over him and wanted someone else. 

“You’re right. I’ve said enough. You’re completely right about that.” He reaches up, brushing your hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. The rough material of his gloves scrape your cheek. You wanted them off, his bare fingers touching you instead. “You know what they say, darling. Actions speak louder than words.” He continues, slipping his fingers to the back of your head, a handful of hair entangling his hand. With his free hand, he slowly reaches up to his face, swiftly lifting the balaclava over his lips. You had never seen his face before, and it seemed like your world stopped spinning at the slight glimpse of his strong jaw. A discolored scar ran up his upper lip, ending right on top of his lip line. He parted his lips, his breath now hot on your face. Your breathing trembled as he dipped his head forward, clashing his mouth with yours. You whine into the kiss, your knees weakening under you. His grip tightens on your hair, his body pushing you into the back door of your car. You fumble with the handle, not breaking the kiss as his hand lands on your ass, roughly squeezing it through your pants. You get the car door open, and Simon groans into the kiss as he pushes you inside. You break the kiss, sliding into the backseat as he lies you down on the seat. He hovers over your face as you lie back on the seat, reaching behind him and slamming the car door. He wraps his hand around your throat, beckoning you to sit up with him. He kisses you again, aggressively shoving his tongue in your mouth, groaning into you. The taste of him on your lips was enough to drive you absolutely feral, wanting more of his taste on your lips. He pulls you onto his lap, squeezing your hips as you straddle him. You moan softly as you grind your hips against his, the fabric barrier frustrating you and causing a wetness to pool between your thighs. You wanted nothing more in that moment than to diminish the very thing that held him back from being inside you already. You reached down, palming at his growing erection. He groaned into your mouth, throwing his head back at your touch. “I need you, love…don’t know how fucking long I’ve needed you.” He breathes, his grip on your hips growing stronger. 

“Please…Simon. J-just fuck me already.” You moan softly, raising your hand to claw at the collar of his shirt. He wastes no time in ripping it off like it was on fire, throwing it onto the car floor. He sits up, leaning you backwards as he undoes his belt. His jeans were uncomfortably tight around his crotch at this point in time, his shaft painfully pressed against his balls. He groans as he slides his jeans down to his thighs, rolling you off him to get them off the rest of the way. You watched lustfully as you started ripping your own clothes off, desperately yearning for his touch on your bare skin. You’re left in nothing but your panties, the cold draft rising goosebumps on your skin. After sliding his jeans down to his ankles, he leans over to grab you by the hips, dragging you onto his lap once more. He snaked an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him. You’re unable to move, your nipples grazing his toned chest. The sensitivity of your hardened nipples causes a jolt to run through you, letting out a soft whine at the skin to skin contact. He notices your sensitivity, resulting in a low chuckle to rumble out of his lips. He smirks, staring at you mischievously. You let out a yelp, trailing off into a pleasured moan as he pinched your right nipple, dipping his head forward and taking the other in his mouth. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud, causing pleasure to shoot straight into your core, ecstasy flowing through your blood. “You sound so fuckin’ sexy, love. Keep going.” 

You continue to moan as you arch your back against him, taking more and more of your breast into his mouth. He leaves hickies on the soft, silky skin of your breasts, leaning back to look at his handiwork. He suddenly stops, beckoning for you to turn your back to him. You do as you're told, turning around on his lap with your back facing his chest. He slowly runs his hands down your thighs, opening your legs and placing a foot on each of his knees so you’re wide open for him. He grabs and palms at your thighs, resting a hand right over your pussy, slick with arousal. He chuckles as he feels how slick you are, leaning down to kiss your neck, whispering against your skin. “Look how goddamn wet you are for me. You’re just a little whore, yeah?” He whispers, slapping your pussy with an open palm, causing you to yelp. “You know I’d treat you better than he could, don’t you, love.” He asks, saying it more as a statement than a question. You nod, throwing your head back onto his chest as he slips a finger into your panties. He drags a finger from your hole to your clit, sliding it up and down painfully slow. “Oi, use your words, princess.” He demands, stopping his finger, making you whine out of desperation. “Y-yes! You can treat me better than he can, Simon.” 

“Good girl.” He continues sliding his finger between your pussy lips, the lewd sounds of your slick permeating the air. He lifts you by your hips, as if you weighed nothing to him. You feel him positioning the tip of his cock over your panties, swollen and leaking with precum. You buck your hips in need, your head rolling around on his chest. He chuckles deviously, moving your panties to the side as he exposes your clit to the chilled air. “Tell me you want it, love. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you until your screamin’ my name so loud the fuckin’ windows shatter.” His gruff voice sends a chill down your spine, a predatorial lust laced in his tone. You part your lips to speak, your breath hitching in your throat as he slides his tip between your slick folds, causing a groan to escape his lips. “I want it so bad, Simon. I want you so bad. P-please.” You beg, barely able to get your words out as he uses your clit to smear his precum all over your cunt, both of you now wet with each other’s juices. You moan softly, holding back the scream of desperation you so badly wanted to let out. “Good fuckin’ girl. You want my cock in you that bad, aye?” He says, a grunt following as he lines the tip with your hole. “Y-yes! P-please, Simon.” You beg, bucking your hips forward. You feel how big he is already, throbbing and thick, hard like you’ve never felt before. You widen your legs, trying to lower yourself onto him. He holds you up by your hips, stopping you from taking what you need. You whine, your clit throbbing and swollen with need. “Needy fuckin’ girl.” He chuckles, pushing into you further. You both groan, your delicate moans soft and silky compared to his guttural, manly grunts. He lowers you onto him slowly, bucking his hips ever so slightly. He seemed to be holding back, and that frustrated you. You tried to push against his hands once more, trying to suck in just one more measly little inch. He exhaled sharply, suddenly wrapping a strong hand around your throat. 

“Quit bein’ so fuckin’ greedy, love. You’re like a bitch in heat for Christ's sake.” He says, the grip on your throat growing as you struggle to breathe. You take the lack of his other hand to stop you for granted, smugly pushing yourself down on him further. You smile triumphantly, feeling the electricity flow through your core. He groans in your ear, tightening his grip on your throat. Your air flow restricts, and you couldn’t have cared less. He was almost inside of you completely, and you could feel resistance as you struggled to take him. Catching his breath from the unexpected death grip your pussy had on him, he speaks. “I was tryin’ to take it slow for you, impatient fuckin’ slut.” He says, raising a hand to your face, landing an open palmed slap to your soft skin. The pain stung you so deliciously, making you giggle with delirium. Simon scoffs behind you, astonished at how absolutely filthy you were. “If that’s how ya wanna play it, love. Fine with me.” He says, and before you got the chance to hear an explanation, he slams into you all in one go, the throbbing tip of his cock pushing past the spongy wall that hadn’t been touched in quite a while. He begins to thrust his hips upward, plowing into you as if there were no tomorrow. You yelled out, your sounds a mixture of pained yells and lustful moans. His hand still had quite of a grip on your throat, causing your face to grow a deep shade of red as he fucked you. Noticing your lack of airflow, he lets go of your neck. 

He struggles to get his cock in you all the way, causing him to slow his pace. He groans in your ear as you grip his cock like a vice. 

“Relax. Let me in, baby.” He brings his fingers up to his mouth, spitting into them. He wraps an arm around your front, resting his lubed fingers on your clit. As he draws wet circles on your clit, your walls flutter and spasm around his dick, allowing him further entry. He lets out a low chuckle, continuing to rub your clit, the lewd sounds of him spreading his saliva between your pussy lips bouncing off the windows. “Gotta show the girl some love for her to open up to me, right, lass?” He says, his accent thick on his tongue. You nod, letting out a string of slurred “mhmms” as he continues loving on your clit. He starts to pump into you again, grunting and moaning in your ear. He curses, throwing his head back as he fucks you. Your heels dig into his knees, hoisting yourself up as you throw yourself down on him in sync with his thrusts. This seems to incapacitate him, ripping the thoughts right from his head. Your tits jiggle with every thrust, your hair hanging down and brushing against his face. He adores the view of you, trying your hardest not to cum as he pounds the spot that drives you nuts without missing a beat. The steady rhythm made you feel like you haven’t felt ever before, coming close to your end quicker than you ever had. His dick was working brutal magic on your walls, his fingers lovingly caress and flick at your clit. The mixture of feelings soon became too much for you to handle. You clenched against him, the sounds of your inner slick coating his cock turning you on like never before.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart?” He leans down, whispering into your neck. You nod furiously, eyes tearing up at the absolute love he was playing on your clit with. As if it were his own cock, feeling your pleasure ripple through you and into his blood as he touched you. In this moment, you knew. He had you. There wasn’t any escaping him after this, and there was no escaping your feelings any longer. The unsettling yet comforting feeling made your core tighten, conjuring an orgasm so strong, you’d prove to him with direct evidence that you were his, and no one else's. 

“ ‘m gonna cum, Simon. ‘m gonna cum” You slur, pressing the back of your head into his chest. “Cum for me, baby. I want you to fuckin’ cum all over my cock. You beautiful fuckin’ whore.” His words send you over the edge, a warmth rushing straight to your clit, spraying his hand with your squirt as you yell out, your eyes stinging with tears as you had never felt anything so. fucking. intimate. Your walls pulsate around him, your thighs instinctively trying to close themselves at the overstimulation. Your eyes roll into the back of your head. Simon wraps his hands around your thighs, prying them open with a strength you didn’t know he had. Simon seemed to enjoy your orgasm as much as you did, and it seemed that he got off more on watching you absolutely crumble at his touch. You knew it was something predatorial, but you chose to enjoy it anyway. As your walls fluttered and tightened around him, his grip on your thighs moved to his fingertips, leaving dark red marks in its wake. You knew he was close, and you didn’t want to admit that the thought of him filling you up with his seed, made you go feral. You continued bouncing yourself on him, his face now buried in your hair as he cursed and moaned. He was no longer bucking his hips at a rhythmic pace, now sloppily pumping into you as your cunt did its work on him. “Fuck, baby. I’m so fuckin’ close.” He gripped your thighs tighter, causing you to wince at the pain. It felt as if he was trying to rip your flesh open with his fingers, the feeling of your hot, squelching walls, fresh from an orgasm driving him to insanity. You smile as he continues moaning nasty nothings in your ear. 

“Gonna breed you, make you mine… forever.” 

“You’re mine now, do you understand that?”

“You won’t ever think of fuckin’ another man when I’m done with you. Do. You. Understand.” 

“Do you think Konig could fuck you like this? Didn’t think so, baby. Fuckin’ pathetic.” 

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine - fuuuuckin’ hell” 

You keep a steady rhythm, rolling your hips onto his cock as the heels of your feet dig into his knees. He lets out a long guttural groan, breathing heavily against your hair. You feel his cock throb inside of you, his seed filling you to the brim of leaking. You feel some of him slip out of you, dribbling down your hole and onto your asscheek. He thrusts into you slowly, fucking his seed back into you. You belonged to him now, and God help any man who so much as looked at you the wrong way. You both stay connected inside of you for a minute, breathing into the air. The windows of the car were now fogged up, the chill making its way across your skin as you curled up in his lap. 

“Mine. All fuckin’ mine”.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ 

Simon’s lips curl into a grin as he slides your panties down your legs, balling them up in his hand as he tucks them into his pocket. You scoffed at him as you dressed yourself, still feeling the warmth of him drip down your walls. 

“What would the team say if they found out you’re a panty stealer?” You ask, teasing him as you slip your shirt on. 

“Well, depends on who it is. Soap’ll definitely beg for a whiff.” He says, your jaw dropping open. You smack his chest playfully. He grabs your hand, pulling you into a kiss. He kisses you gently, a great difference from how he’d been kissing you earlier. 

“Feelin’ better, love?” He says, breath hot on your lips. 

“Very much so.” You chuckle. You look at his lips, wondering what else was behind that mask of his. You look back and forth between his eyes, slowly reaching your hand forward, pulling the hem of his balaclava. “Let me see you, Simon” You say gently. He wraps his hands around your wrist, not stopping you, just holding you. You see a glint of nervousness in his eyes as you pull it from his head. You smile as your eyes scan over his face. His blonde hair sat messily atop his head, his features all coming together to make the most strikingly beautiful man you’d ever seen. His breathing grows heavier as he sees your reaction, seemingly releasing a breath he’d been holding. He smirks at you, slowly bringing your hand to his face. You caress his stubbled cheek, running your fingertips along his strong nose, crooked from multiple breaks. You softly run your fingers over his lips and jawline, your eyes lidded with lust. The way he looked back at you, confirmed everything you’d been trying to prevent yourself from believing all these months. “If you felt the same way about me, why did you…?” You start, tears stinging your eyes. 

“Things were complicated, love. Or not, I don’t know. I was a coward. You made me a coward.” He admits, a somber tone to his voice that you never expected to hear from him. He was usually a humorous, flat-toned man who expressed himself with silence, or witticisms, and there was no in between. The moment felt fragile, as if it would shatter if you spoke too loudly. You smile at him with shaky lips, a tear falling down your cheek. “All this time I thought…I don’t know, I thought you hated me too much to want to fix it.” He continues, swiping the tear from your face with his thumb. You felt as if you spoke you would break, so you kissed him. He breathes heavily into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body. “I’m not good at this, love. But, you make me feel ways I thought were never possible for someone like me. And I promise, with every fiber of my being…I’ll never let this go. I’ll never let you go. No matter how hard you try and run from me.” He says, breaking into a smile at the last words. You smile at him, slipping your fingers through his blonde locks. His eyes gaze into your soul, his words settling into your heart, engraving themselves in stone. 

“I hated seeing you so broken up over that prick…I guess it fueled me to be better. To be better for you.” He says, resting his head in your hands. 

“I only wanted him as a rebound, Simon.” You say, a sly smirk on your face. He scoffs at you, raising his head to meet yours. His smile was still so new to you, enough to make you crumble at his feet without shame. “You’re a damn minx, you know that?” He says, a soft chuckle escaping from his lips. “You don’t have to worry about that useless bloke anymore.” He continues, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek. “I can treat you better than he ever can, love”.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After he gives you the best time of your life, you wonder what exactly you mean to Bradley. Your heart sinks when he asks you to babysit again, and you realize you can't keep letting him do this to you. You brace yourself for another night of waiting for him to get home from a date, but you're in for a surprise when you arrive. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

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Bradley realized on Thursday morning in the hangar that he had been avoiding Nat at work when she handed him a cup of coffee and said, "Oh, look, you do still exist. I've barely seen you all week. What's going on? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Nat."

"How's Noah? And how's it going with your babysitter?" she asked, raising one eyebrow at him.

The look on his face must have given him away. He could feel his cheeks flushing as he struggled to meet her eyes. "Pretty great," he muttered, and Nat gasped.

"You fucked her!"

He managed to meet her eyes now. "I mean, everything but."

"Bradley! You got off with her?" Nat asked, eyes wide. "You needed it to be special. Was it special?"

He swallowed hard, his eyes closing as he thought about your mouth on him and his mouth on you. Then your face and your laughter were right there, along with your books and bags of Skittles. "Yeah, Nat. It was."

The screeching sound coming from his best friend was obnoxious, but when he reached into his pocket when his phone vibrated, he felt sick. 

"Nat. It's Meredith."

She was immediately grabbing for his phone, but he pulled it away from her. "Let me answer it. I'll set her straight," Nat snarled, instantly angry. Bradley loved Natasha Trace for so many reasons, and her protectiveness of him and Noah was just one of them. "She doesn't have the right to call you!"

Bradley ignored the call and turned his phone off. "She does this every year around Noah's birthday. I don't know if it's out of guilt or what exactly, but I should have honestly been expecting it." 

But he hadn't been expecting Noah's mom to start trying to contact him, because instead, Bradley had been completely distracted by you. When you were at his house watching Noah, that's where he wanted to be, too. And when you weren't there, he was wondering what you were doing. And when he was there with you, he couldn't keep his hands off you.

"She gave birth to Noah, and then she left. She doesn't get to keep doing this to you," Nat whispered, running her hand along his arm. "She has no guardianship rights."

"I know, Nat," Bradley replied, "but I'm always afraid she will try to petition for it."

When Nat wrapped her arms around him, Bradley let her hold him for a moment. "So what are you going to do about the babysitter?" she asked, smirking up at him.

Bradley shrugged and closed his eyes. "Keep her away from Jake, I guess."

She laughed and punched him in the middle; hugging time must be over now. "I'm serious, Bradley."

"So am I, Nat. And she's too young for me." And then when Bradley was called to his aircraft, it was with thoughts of you soaking his face while you moaned his name on his mind.

After work, when he pulled into the parking lot at Noah's daycare, he turned his phone back on. There were a number of missed calls from his ex and several texts from her as well.

Meredith: Please call me back. I just want to talk for a minute. I just need to know how Noah is doing.

He couldn't let her keep doing this. It would be too confusing for Noah as he got older and realized who she was. But instead of writing back, Bradley scrolled down to your name and tapped his screen.

He was supposed to have a date with someone named Eliza from the app on Saturday night, but what was the point? It had been less than twenty four hours since Bradley made you cum all over his face, and he was craving you in every way. He needed your fingers in his hair and your taste on his tongue as much as he needed to eat and breathe. 

Princess, can you come over on Saturday night?

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

You had been turned on since last night. Even when you left Bradley's house and got home, your skin was tingling and there was a soft buzzing in your ears. You'd been up half the night, thinking about his mouth and getting yourself worked up. 

The truth was, you wanted Bradley so much, you didn't know if you could be around him if you weren't allowed to touch him. The memory of the strands of his soft, wavy hair was still present on your fingertips as you pressed them against your own clit. You were finally caving, touching yourself now, even though you were half afraid it would override the feel of his mustache on you. 

But it didn't. Not at all. As you fingered yourself, you thought you could smell him in your bed. And when you came around your own fingers, they felt like his. You wondered if you'd ever be able to squirt like that again, because he had liked it. He had told you it was hot, said you were a Princess who should be worshipped. 

You were probably going to be horny for the rest of your life. 

But when you hadn't heard from Bradley by Thursday afternoon, you were starting to feel awkward. You had sucked his cock; he said it was the best blowjob of his life. He had eaten your pussy; it was the most intense orgasm you'd ever had. And he still paid you for babysitting. You groaned as you walked back to your car after class. Why did you let him pay you? You should have refused. 

You were looking at your phone, reading a new text from him before you could even process what was going on.

Bradley Bradshaw: Princess, can you come over on Saturday night?

Your heart felt elated. You were typing back to him, immediately agreeing. But then you almost dropped your phone down a storm drain. He probably had another date. Someone else from the app. You were going to get jealous again, and he was going to come home early again and tell you that he couldn't stop thinking about you. He was going to keep doing this over and over, and you were so afraid that you were going to let him. 

When Greyson called you a minute later, you answered without really looking at your phone. 

"Hey. You wanna come over?"

"Um," you mumbled. "I just got out of class, and I have a lot of homework."

"Come do your homework here," he said, and you could tell he was smiling. 

You'd been avoiding Greyson a lot lately, and you knew it was mostly because of Bradley. 

"Come on," he whined. "I'll feed you dinner."

You laughed. "What's for dinner? Hot cheetos and cheap beer?" you asked. You instantly thought about the filet mignon you'd eaten at Bradley's kitchen table last night and all of the expensive coffees he bought for you. Because as funny as it was to pick on him for supposedly flirting with the baristas, you knew he was buying them for you because you liked them.

"Maybe on Sunday, Grey," you told him and then hung up a minute later. You'd give Bradley one more chance, otherwise you needed to be done. 

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

Bradley spent most of Friday evening and Saturday morning thinking about what he should do about Meredith in between thoughts of you. He had cancelled his date with Eliza on Thursday, and now he was counting down the hours until you would be here with him and Noah. 

He wanted so badly to spend the evening here, just the three of you, but he hadn't told you about the plan ahead of time. His brain was telling him this was a mistake, but his body and heart were overruling everything he thought.

When he put Noah down for an afternoon nap and tried to figure out what to wear for the night, Meredith called him again. You, you, you. He wanted to focus on you. He ignored the call again, realizing he was going to have to deal with her eventually, or he might run the risk of her showing up here on Noah's birthday.

Frustrated, Bradley pulled on a soft tee shirt and some comfortable sweatpants. If he was going to indulge himself in his fantasy of spending an evening at home, eating popcorn with the right girl, then he was going all in. Then he pulled out another soft shirt and another pair of pants and left them on this bed along with your purple paper crown.

It was nearly dinnertime when Noah woke up, and Bradley was expecting you soon. He was so antsy, and by the time he heard your car in the driveway, he and Noah were both running for the front door to see you.

"Hi!" you said a bit breathlessly, taking in the sight before you. Bradley was clearly not dressed for a date, at least not the kind he'd been going on before. And Noah was holding up a coloring page of a princess in a castle that he and Bradley had worked on for you. "Is that for me?" you asked, eyeing both of them with a soft smile. 

"It's a princess," Noah informed you. "Daddy helped me use all the colors so she's as pretty as you."

You took the page in your hand and looked at it before bending to kiss Noah on the top of his head. Bradley's heart was pounding in his chest as you looked him up and down curiously. "You're not going out?" He thought your voice sounded hopeful, and the way you were nibbling softly on your glossy lip was enough to make his cock twitch. 

"No, Princess," he told you, and you released your lip from your teeth and licked it. God, he wanted to push you down on the couch and undress you. Taste your pretty pussy again. "I thought the three of us could have a night in."

"Oh," you whispered. You looked and sounded surprised. He should have figured you would, since he'd been seeing a multitude of women over the past few weeks, all while knowing he just wanted you. 

"Daddy said we can order a pizza," Noah said, hugging your leg and pulling you toward the kitchen. 

"Is Daddy going to make popcorn and watch a movie later, too?" you asked, grinning at Bradley. 

"That's the plan, Princess," he whispered, running his knuckles along your soft cheek while Noah led you to the kitchen table. You stopped when you saw two cups from his favorite coffee shop next to each other. When you read both of them, you laughed and picked up the one that had Princess written across it.

"This one must be yours." You picked up the cup that said peasant and handed it to Bradley as you took a sip of your vanilla latte.

"It sure is," he agreed as he drank his hazelnut coffee. "I left more pajamas out on my bed if you want to change. And I'll order whatever kind of pizza you like."

You were looking up at him in awe. He should have done this with you weeks ago. "Okay," you whispered and told him what your favorite kind of pizza was. Then he sat down to color with Noah and watched you walk out of the kitchen and head to his bedroom. He immediately thought about following you. He could push you up against his dresser, wedge his knee between your thighs and listen to you make the noises that he thought about when he touched himself while he kissed you. 

But instead he colored a knight in armor with a blue crayon and sipped his coffee. He wasn't sure what you wanted from him. He wasn't even really certain about what he wanted with you. But the more time he spent around you, it was going to become increasingly difficult to keep his hands to himself. 

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

You stood next to Bradley's bed and looked at the soft Top Gun shirt and the lounge pants he had left out for you. Your crown was there too. What exactly was happening here? You felt like you had missed something. He wasn't going on a date. He was staying home all evening with you and Noah. Maybe he was feeling things ever since you and he had spent some time together on his living room couch. You definitely were. 

Without bothering to close the door, you took off your shoes and socks and stripped down to your underwear. The well worn lounge pants were way too long and needed to be rolled at the waist, but the fabric felt nice against your skin. Bradley's shirt was too big as well, so you tied the bottom of it in a little knot that showed off a bit of skin at your waist. 

You ran your fingers along the paper crown before picking it up and setting it on your head as well. Then you grabbed the yellow crown from Noah's room and took it with you.

When you were standing in the kitchen doorway and saw Bradley with Noah sitting on his thigh while they colored, you felt a little dizzy. "The knight can match the Princess," Bradley was telling his son. "And then we can color the dragon."

"An orange dragon," Noah said, locating the correct crayon. You didn't get to see them interact like this too much, since Bradley was usually leaving when you got here. But you thought you could watch this all night. 

Just as Bradley was pressing a kiss to Noah's hair, you heard his phone ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and frowned, ignoring a call before looking up at you. And then his expression changed completely. His eyes were a little wide, and his lips parted as he looked at you. 

You thought you'd feel a little self conscious in his clothing, but the way he was looking at you was making you feel bold. 

"Princess," he rasped as you strolled the rest of the way into the room. The urge to sit on his other thigh and press soft kisses to his cheek and Noah's was almost overwhelming. His eyes were glued on the little spot of your skin that was on display above the lounge pants, as if he hadn't had you spread out on his couch with his face buried in your pussy a few days ago. As if he hadn't seen nearly everything before. As if you hadn't squirted on him when you came.

But his cheeks were flushed now, and you felt need thrumming through your body as your nipples tightened. When the doorbell rang, you jumped a few inches, and Bradley stood up, setting Noah down in the seat. 

"Probably the pizza," he muttered when he brushed past you, his knuckles brushing your skin. You moaned softly, and you turned to see him running his fingers through his hair as he retrieved dinner. 

You stood at the table next to Noah, and Bradley came to stand behind you, guiding a pizza box and container of salad over your head and setting them down in front of you. "Here you go, Princess," he whispered, and you felt his lips brush your ear while Noah colored. You turned your face toward him, and his lips met your cheek. You brushed your body back against him, and he grunted; you could feel his cock through his pants where it rubbed along your butt, and he was definitely a little hard.

It was all so domestic and sexy, just like the morning after you'd slept alone in Bradley's bed. He was giving you goosebumps. You swallowed hard as he backed away from you. "Wait. A salad. I feel like this is a test," you told him as he gathered some plates and utensils. 

Bradley chuckled as he opened two beers and set one next to your plate. "Go ahead," he said, nodding at the salad container. 

You tried not to smile as you added some salad to your plate and covered it in a copious amount of the salad dressing. "Thank goodness," Bradley muttered, fixing his salad up in a similar fashion as his knee bumped your thigh. 

You started cutting up a slice of pizza into smaller bites for Noah, and the way Bradley whispered, "Thank you," had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. "You always take care of us."

You looked him in the eye. "You're not paying me tonight, right?"

His eyes dipped down to your lips as he slowly shook his head. "No."

You put the plate of pizza in front of Noah and asked, "Should we make a crown for your dad, too? Look how sad he looks without one." When Bradley pouted at both of you, Noah started laughing. 

"He needs a green one," Noah informed you, and as soon as you were finished eating dinner, Noah was in Bradley's lap and you were standing behind him. You let your fingers trail through his hair while you measured his head with a piece of green construction paper. 

Bradley was leaning into your touch while Noah tried to help you. After you cut out the crown and Noah colored it, you taped it together. "Here you go, Noah. Set it on his head," you told him, and you watched him place the silly paper crown on his dad's head. It was completely crooked, and Bradley's wavy hair stuck out around it, but he looked impossibly adorable when he glanced up at you.

"Am I a prince now?" he rasped, and you wanted to kiss him. You even thought about doing it in front of Noah, but you held yourself at bay. 

"No, Daddy, I'm the prince," Noah said with a laugh grabbing him by the nose. "You're the knight."

"Ah, that makes sense," Bradley told him, kissing his plump little cheek. "Who wants to watch a movie and eat popcorn?"

"Me!" you and Noah said in unison, and you scooped him up from Bradley's lap.

"You need to get some pjs on first, like me and your dad," you told Noah. 

"Daddy doesn't have pjs on. He doesn't wear shirts at night," Noah insisted, and you turned toward Bradley and shook your head.

"By the time we meet you in the living room, you better be in dress code," you scolded him playfully, wondering if he'd take his shirt off like he had the other morning. 

Bradley just smirked at you. "Sure, Princess. Whatever you want."

You changed Noah into race car pajamas and carried him to the couch while Bradley popped a bag of popcorn, and you dug your bag of Skittles out of your tote.

"Which movie do you want?" you asked Noah as he settled onto your lap. You scrolled through his collection of animated movies, and he chose Sleeping Beauty. You had the movie queued up and ready to play when Bradley walked in shirtless with a gigantic bowl of popcorn and two steaming mugs, his crown still crooked on his head. He handed you the mug that said Getting high is part of my job and you laughed.

"Thanks," you whispered as he settled down next to you. You pushed play, and Bradley took the remote from your hand since Noah and your fresh coffee were an armful at the moment. 

"You're welcome," he replied, his warm bicep resting against your shoulder. Every time you reached into the bowl of popcorn on his lap, you glanced at his naked torso. Bradley was so pretty, you didn't think you'd ever get used to looking at him. 

You wanted to kiss him, but instead you shoved fistfuls of popcorn into your mouth. Noah was making a mess, dropping it on Bradley's lap and the floor. But you didn't seem to mind, and neither did Bradley. And the whole night felt perfect. Bradley took your empty mug from you and set it on the floor along with his and the empty popcorn bowl. 

When he settled against the back of the couch, he let his arm come to rest around your shoulders. You smirked up at him, and he smirked down at you, and then you reached for the bag of Skittles you had hidden on your other side. 

"You want some?" you asked, dangling the bag in his face. 

He leaned in closer, and you thought he was going to kiss you. "Have I earned the privilege?" he whispered. 

His voice made you feel weak, and your fingers shook a little bit as you ripped open the package. "I think so. But you only get a twenty five percent cut, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I remember," he told you, eyes half lidded as he looked at your lips when you placed a green Skittle there before biting into it. "I earned that right for kissing you so good."

You bit back a moan as Noah repositioned himself on your lap. "Yeah, Daddy," you agreed, and now Bradley was the one actually moaning. He watched your every move as you dumped out three more Skittles into your palm, took the orange one, and fed it to him. When your thumb caught on his lip, you scooted even closer to him. Then you dumped out four more and fed him one of them. "You're getting exactly one quarter of them, and not a Skittle more."

He ate every single one you placed between his lips, and finally he asked, "What if I do a really great job again? Do I have the potential to earn more?"

You almost dumped Noah on the floor by accident as you leaned in and kissed Bradley softly on his lips. When you pulled away, he chased you for another, and your lips willingly returned to his. You traded soft nudges and shared smiles, lips teasing gently as the movie played in the background. 

"Princess," Bradley whispered against your lips as his hand came up to caress your cheek. His crown slipped down his forehead and you giggled. Noah shifted on your lap and turned to face you while he yawned, and you pulled away from Bradley as his hand dropped down to his lap. 

"Are you getting sleepy?" you asked Noah softly, and he nodded. "Do you want to finish the movie?" He nodded again. "Come here, we can snuggle."

You pulled him against your chest and glanced up at Bradley before you stretched out on the couch and let your head rest on his thigh. You were sandwiched between Noah's tiny body and even breathing as he fell asleep in front of you and Bradley's solid warmth beneath your head. When he brought his fingers up to brush a pattern along your neck, you shivered and closed your eyes. You were melting against him while his big hand came to rest on your shoulder, stroking your collarbone through his soft tee shirt.

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

You were asleep in Bradley's lap with your arms wrapped around his son, and he fucking needed this. Your skin was so soft against his fingers, and your lips looked pouty in your sleep. Tonight had been perfect. Better than any other date he'd had using the app. Probably better than any other date he'd had, ever. He couldn't even really remember his first date with Meredith, and he'd had a fucking child with her. 

You moaned softly as the end credits played, and you nuzzled your cheek against his thigh. Bradley gently removed his own crown followed by yours and Noah's and set them on the end table. He didn't want to disturb you, but he needed to put Noah in his bed. So Bradley gently slid out from beneath you and eased your cheek down against the couch cushion. When he knelt in front of Noah and tried to untangle your arms, you jolted awake and pulled Noah closer to yourself, as if you were protecting him.

"Oh," you sighed, "it's just you." You looked pleased to see that Bradley was the one scooping Noah up off the couch. 

"It's just me, Princess," he promised, watching you sit up and stretch, your arms pulling his shirt higher, revealing more skin. "I'll be right back."

As gently and as quickly as he could, Bradley carried Noah to his bed and tucked him in with a kiss. He could still picture the way you had been holding him, and he couldn't get enough as he rushed back out to the living room. 

You were cleaning the mess of popcorn off the floor and picking up the Skittles wrapper when he said, "You don't have to do that."

"I don't mind." Then you turned to face him and dumped out four more pieces of candy into your palm before putting the trash in the empty popcorn bowl. 

He slowly closed the distance between the two of you, saying, "According to the rules, exactly one of those Skittles belongs to me."

You pressed your lips together, and he could tell you were trying not to laugh. When he reached for the candies in your palm, you closed your fingers around them and pulled your hand away. "Not so fast."

He crowded you in with a smirk until you were backed up against the wall. "Rules are rules, baby," he whispered. 

"And what if I give you two of them? Make it a fifty/fifty share of the final four?" you asked, looking up at him as he rested one forearm on the wall next to your head. "What would you say then?"

He grunted, placing a kiss on your cheek. "I'd say you were giving me a green light, Princess." He kissed your lips softly, adding, "And I'd say I'm extra thankful I cancelled my app date to spend time with you instead. Because a girl who gives me more than my fair share of Skittles is the only one I want."

You tipped your head back against the wall. "Did you really cancel to spend the night here with me and Noah?"

"Yeah."

"Do you remember what her name was?"

"No."

You giggled. "It's better this way. She probably hates salad dressing." You parted his lips with your thumb and gently fed him not one but two of the Skittles before crunching the other two between your teeth and smirking at him.

"Come here, Princess," Bradley growled, wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling your body against him. He inhaled your sweet wildflower scent and said, "Tell me what you want."

You dragged the tip of your tongue along Bradley's lips and whispered, "I want you, Daddy."

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

Now that's more like it, Daddy! Princess wants you...will you let her have you? Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[tomhollandisabae]

lonely- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

masterlist

fandom; call of duty

summary; after simon had left for his next mission, you were faced with the biggest challenge of your life and you had to get through that all by yourself.

warnings; angst, pregnancy, fluff, mentions of death, english is not my first language

words; idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n; this idea was stuck into my brain since last week and once i couldn't find anything similar to it anywhere to read, i decided to write it myself. also you can send me your requests!!

a/n2; f1 fans please don't come after me i know you're expecting the 2nd part of the story with lewis but i have no motivation to write it😭i'll do it some time, but i don't know when. uni has been draining me out so much.

"please take care of yourself " was the last thing you told simon -your husband - before he left for yet another mission.

now it had been 12 months and there was no sign of him. however, a lot had happened in the past year, but most importantly you had given birth to a beautiful baby girl -all by yourself.

when you had found out that you were expecting, simon was long gone and you had no way to communicate with him. the only thing that you could do was to get through this pregnancy all alone. thank god that maternity leave was a thing, otherwise you had no idea how you could manage having a baby all by yourself.

whatsoever, you couldn't be mad at your husband as a matter of fact that you had found out about your pregnancy only one week after he had left, while the guilt was everyday eating you alive.

you had no idea how he would react though. you were aware of his past and how his father had treated him.

simon is a lovely human being... towards you. he's a sweet, loving and caring husband and you are absolutely sure that he will make a great father.

you had went through a lot during your pregnancy and you could admit that it wasn't an easy one; mood swings, cravings, morning sickness, back pain etc.

the worst part of it all was when you went into labour. you had spent hours and hours trying to bring the little bundle of joy, that you and the love of your life had created together, into this world.

and after many hours of pain and screaming you were finally holding your baby girl in your arms. the first thing that you had noticed about her were her eyes -same as her father's- and that made your eyes well up with tears.

now it had been almost 4 months since you had given birth and the constant stress of taking care of a baby by yourself had tore you apart both physically and emotionally. you were barely sleeping, you had lost your appetite and were actually a walking wreck.

some nights you would spend them in your bed crying yourself to sleep, wishing your husband was here to help you out.

currently, you were taking a shower as you heard your daughter crying. sighing deeply, you got out and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the nursery.

you took her in your arms and sat down on the rocking chair, lowering your towel and starting feeding her. once she was fed, you put her back to sleep and went into your room, changing quickly and laying on your bed.

you brought both your arms over your eyes in an attempt to block out any kind of light source and bit on your bottom lip trying not to cry, again.

as your mind wander in different places, you didn't hear the front door opening and closing as well as the heavy footsteps on the staircase.

you only raised your head as you saw your bedroom door opening, revealing your husband.

immediately, you were flooded by many different emotions as you jumped up from the bed and attacked him in a -suffocating- hug.

simon chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms protectively around you and kissed the top of your head.

"i can't believe that you're back." you pulled away for a moment "you're actually back." you embraced him again not having noticed the tears that were spilling from your eyes.

"i'm sorry it took me too long my love" he mumbled on top of your head as he squished you in his arms.

"i missed you" you lifted your head up, looking at him.

"i missed you y/n" he leaned down and slowly brought his lips on top of yours kissing you softly and yet so loving.

sooner or later, however, you broke away as you looked up at him with a huge smile.

"i have to show you something" you said excited and grabbed his hand, leading him out of your bedroom and across the hall way.

you glanced at him anxiously as you slowly opened the door of your baby's room. you turned on the lights and guided simon inside.

you were looking carefully at him as his expression changed from a curious one to a shocked.

"love..." he exclaimed as he turned to look at you while his bottom lip was trembling.

"i found out one week after you left. i had no way to tell you, simon, i'm so sorry" the guilt took over you.

"shh it's okay." he wrapped his arms once again around you as you sobbed into his chest.

"i just... it was awful, simon. first the guilt that there was a way to tell you, but i was too stupid to think about it and second all the pain, the emotions, everything... i just feel so... useless." you cried out.

"hey" he grabbed both your cheeks and looked you in the eye "you're the strongest woman i've ever known in my entire life, y/n. not only for going through a pregnancy and labour by yourself, but also for being able to get through that with being aware of a chance of me never coming back again and yet you got enough courage and look where that brought you love."

it was true. every time he would go on a new mission, the curiosity of his well being would kill you. every single day you were checking you mail for a letter that would be proclaiming your husband dead.

"i love you so much simon" you raised on your tiptoes and buried your face into the crook of his neck.

"i love you more sweetheart." he lifted your head once again and kissed you softly.

you were so grateful for the feeling of his warm, soft lips against yours, kissing them with so much love and care. every single time you would be in his radar, this man would worship the ground you were walking on.

finally, you pulled away with a small smile.

"come on" you guided him towards the crib where the newborn baby was sleeping in soundly.

carefully, you picked her up in your arms and turned towards simon that was looking at his daughter as if she was the most precious thing on earth.

"do you want to hold her?" you suggested.

"i... i don't know how" he admitted and you kissed his cheek smiling.

"that's why i'm here for. i'll show you how." you said and just like that you handed the small baby over to your husband that was feeling as if he was holding the most fragile thing in the world.

"she's... so small." he stroked lightly her rosy cheek with his thump.

what took you aback was that her little hand enveloped his pinky finger, holding it firmly. you gasped and his breath hitched in his throat.

"wow she didn't even do that to me. only knowing you for a few minutes and she's already a daddy's girl." you complained jokingly placing your hands on your hips.

"really doubt that. there's no one better than you." he kissed your forehead and your face broke into a huge smile as you wrapped your arms around your husband, admiring the way your daughter was rested in her father's chest, not really believing that you had finally built a family with the man you loved most in the entire world.

at that moment, you couldn't be more happy.

[creativesaturn]

Can you do Emiley w/ bau f!reader. They are on a case and get stuck in a hotel room together w/ only like 1 bed (I know, overdone, but its my fave) But Reader hasn't told Em that she has a crush on her, and Emiley kinda figures it out and teases her for a while? Idk, smut if you want? But you can also just like ignore if your over this scenario. I love your stuff! <3

Summary: Emily chose to room with you, but she didn't account for the one bed.

Genre: Fluff , Suggestive

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x gn!reader

Warnings: One bed trope , kissing!!

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: the way I was already working on a one bed trope for her 🤭🤭 but don't even worry cuz the one bed trope is my absolute favorite as well

You sat in the lobby with your go bag at your feet with the rest of the team. Hotch went to go check everyone in, since the case was so last minute it was hard to check in beforehand.

You looked up when Hotch walked over, "That explains why we couldn't sign in beforehand. They're completely booked." He spoke, "But I managed to get us 4 rooms, meaning we're all going to have to share." He explained, holding up 8 key cards.

"Can you behave and choose who you want to room with? Or do I have to hand them out randomly." Hotch asked, making eye contact with everyone one at a time.

You turned your eyes to the couch in front of you, catching eye contact with Emily who had already been looking at you. A slight pink tint filled your face. These past few days have been.. different, with Emily. Stolen glances, goosebumps every time she said your name. And butterflies going wild every conversation.

You couldn't not look away, it was like she had you in some sort of trap with no way out.

"Can me and Derek share?" Penelope asked, biting her bottom lip with a wink aimed at Derek.

Derek laughed in response, his eyes going to Hotch as he waited for the answer. "Sure." Hotch responded, handing them both a key card.

Penelope giggled as she stood up, grabbing onto Derek's arm as they made their way to the elevator.

"I'm not rooming with anyone, but Hotch. You guys can't be trusted." Rossi raised his hands as if he was surrending to his own words. He stood up and placed his hand in front of Hotch, Hotch laughed but nodded, placing a key card in his hand. Shoving the matching card in his own pocket.

Your eyes had finally left Emily's, trying to think who the best person to room with for a week. Your eyes on the floor, lost in thought. Emily watched you contemplate, but she had other plans.

"I'll room with, y/n." Emily blurted, standing up from the couch with her hand out.

"Y/n?" Hotch asked, turning his eyes to you for your answer.

"Huh? Oh-- uh.. Sure. I don't mind." You finally answered, standing up and grabbing the card Hotch handed you.

Emily grinned at you as she began walking towards the elevator, you following close behind her. As you both entered the elevator, you turned your head.

"Why'd you want to room with me?" You asked, genuinely curious on why she suddenly wanted to room with you.

"Who else would you rather room with?" She asked, obviously teasing, finally turning to look back at you.

"Didn't have much time to think about it." You admitted, listening to the ding of the elevator as it pushed open, both you walking out and trailing the halls for your room.

"I haven't actually roomed with you, now that I think about it." She stated, opening the door and letting you step inside first.

"Yeah, it's not very common that we have to share in general." You replied, quickly stopping in your tracks with an annoyed sigh.

Emily furrowed her brows at your expression, and the moment she stepped inside her mouth made an 'O' shape with a soft chuckle.

"I can sleep on the floor if you--" You quickly spoke, but quickly being interrupted by Emily.

"What? You're not seriously sleeping on the floor." She scoffed, walking towards the back of the room that had two chairs to place her bag on top of it.

Her back was facing towards you as she slid off her jacket, "Are you sure?" You asked, placing your stuff on the opposite chair.

"Please. You wouldn't be the first person I shared a bed with." She scoffed, "I call dibs on the shower." She raised her brows, quickly lowering them as she entered the bathroom, leaving you alone.

You sighed, unable to argue with her as you looked around to take in your surroundings. You checked your watch and when you noticed how late it was, you decided showering can wait. You took the time you had with Emily in the shower to change your clothes.

You slid into the bed, sighing at the feel of the plush mattress beneath you. You pulled the blanket up your body and kept your back towards the bathroom, trying to catch up on your sleep.

You weren't surprised you couldn't sleep. The first night in the hotel is always the worst. But you kept your position and continued your attempt.

You listened to door of the bathroom open and the light that peered through turn off. The mattress dipped from the weight of Emily that got comfortable behind you.

"Y/n?" She whispered, clearly testing to see if you were awake.

"Hm?" You hummed lazily.

"You don't mind that I don't wear pants to sleep, right?" She asked, a wide smirk on her face when she spoke but you were unable to see.

You stayed silent for a while. The thought and realization that Emily, the woman you've had a crush on since you started at the BAU, was inches away wearing no pants.

Your face flushed and you unconsciously tensed your thighs together, which Emily couldn't help but notice.

"I'll take that as a yes." She continued to whisper, clearly teasing you at this point.

"But I didn't say anything." You furrowed your brows, your words slightly stuttering and more above a whisper.

Emily raised her brow, "You're right," She responded, "Is it okay?" She asked again, her back against the mattress but her head towards your direction even if your back was facing her.

"Oh-- yeah.. Yeah, it's fine." You muttered, silently cursing at yourself at how embarrassing that was to answer.

Emily couldn't help but laugh. She wanted to keep the conversation going, obviously you were having trouble sleeping if you were still up, and she already knew she wasn't going to be able to.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked in a soft mumble, shifting her weight to lay on the side of her body, staring at the back of your head in the hope you'd turn around.

You hummed to let her know you acknowledged the question, now thinking of a reply. "The case." You answered honestly, well slightly.

You weren't lying. Just.. bending the truth.

She groaned as a reply, "Other than the case."

You thought about it once more. Finally deciding to answer honestly.

"You." You managed to mutter between your racing mind and your now dry mouth.

You finally adjusted your body to lay on your other side, finally making eye contact with Emily who had a wide smile on your face.

"I could've told you that." She laughed, her white teeth showing, almost blinding you with how pretty she looked in the moment.

"What?" You asked, knitting your brows together. "You knew?" You questioned her, genuinely confused, you thought you hid it well.

"Are you kidding? You're always a wreck when you're with me. It's adorable, honestly." She grinned, her smile never leaving her face. In fact, you swore you saw it grow bigger.

"Oh." Was all you said, unable to find the words that could explain how you felt. But your actions did. She could see your face grow redder even from the darkness, your fingers fidgeting with each other, and your eyes unable to find a place to sit for more than five seconds.

"Don't be embarrassed," She cooed, shifting herself closer towards you, close enough to where you could feel her breath hit your skin.

"It's cute, really." She whispered, her hand trailing up your hip, getting caught on the fabric of your t-shirt.

You couldn't find your words, staying silent with your eyes locked onto hers even when she wasn't keeping eye contact.

"Cute?" You breathed out, your words hiding in your mouth, barely being able to mutter anything.

"Mhm." She hummed, bringing her hand to your face to rest her palm against your cheek, finding herself moving closer to you and closing the gap between your mouths.

You kissed back in an instant, letting the soft flesh of your lips move against her before she pulled back.

"You think you can be quiet for me?" She teased, her lips slightly grazing your own.

Your head bobbed up and down in a nod, "Yes."

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[astrophileous]

I feel like Derek would be SO aware of Bug when she gets further along in the pregnancy. Anytime she winces due to a harsh kick or Braxton hick, he’s right there beside her. He makes a huge deal of it too, especially if he can’t be by her side immediately 😭 even asks Penelope to send him updates when he’s away

This takes place during the first pregnancy, when Bug is pregnant with Little Bug 🥰 I kinda took inspiration from that scene when JJ went into labor the first time around, I hope you like it &lt;3

Side note, I literally interrogated my mom abt her pregnancy/labor experience for this one cause I don't have any 😭 but then she proceeded to ask if I HAD SOMETHING I WANTED TO TELL HER AKJSJSJDJ LIKE MOM NO I'M NOT PREGNANT I'm just writing a story plsss

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

With your due date just around the corner, it felt like Derek was also constantly in your corner.

The week marked your first one on maternity leave. You had many objections over having to take a longer leave--how were you ever going to survive four long weeks at home doing nothing?--but after constant pestering from both your doctor and Derek, you relented.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Derek was next to you in a flash, as per usual, after he had heard your wince. You were sure that the man was just in another room mere moments prior, yet the second he caught the tiniest sign of distress coming from you, he proceeded to transport himself towards your side.

"Nothing." You chuckled, trying to ease his mind. "Your son is just eager to practice his kicking skills today."

The frown on his forehead deepened. "Does it hurt?"

"It's not that bad."

"Are you sure?" Derek's hand sneaked on top of your belly, as if trying to tell your son to calm down before he could send another painful kick against your abdomen. "Are you sure it's even a kick? Maybe we should go to the--"

"Derek, I'm fine. Promise." You patted his hand that was still on top of yours, entangling them together. "Have you heard from Hotch about where you guys are going tomorrow?"

"Louisville, Kentucky." Derek seemed to ponder something in silence before he continued, "Should I ask Hotch to sit this one out?"

"What? Why would you do that?"

"I don't like being so far away from you." His hand squeezed around yours as he said it, as if trying to emphasize his point. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing is gonna happen, honey. I'm probably just gonna be sleeping half the time you're gone. You'll be bored as hell and wish that you were in Kentucky instead."

"I don't know. I kinda like watching you sleep."

"Good one, Mister. But still no," you said. "Everything's gonna be just fine. Trust me."

Derek wasn't entirely happy about it, but you managed to push him out of the door bright and early the next morning. In his absence, you had the whole house to yourself, and you used that opportunity to do anything to keep yourself out of boredom. Nothing too strenuous, just as your doctor instructed. Not that you could do anything extreme with the weight of your 36-week bump.

You were in the middle of preparing dinner when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Confused, you turned off the stove before heading towards the front door, wondering all the way who could be visiting you on a random Tuesday night.

Your curiosity was answered the moment you opened the door, only to be met with a familiar pair of eyes behind red rimmed glasses and a head of blonde hair in perfect ringlets.

"Pen? What are you doing here?" Your eyes flitted down, noticing the polka dot duffle bag on the ground. "Why do you have a bag?"

"Surprise, Beets! We're having a sleepover!"

You were still in shock when Penelope rushed past you and entered the house. "What do you mean, sleepover?"

"Have you never had a sleepover before, Beets? It means I'm gonna stay here, of course!"

"What? I don't--" realization dawned upon you then, "--did Derek put you up to this?"

"No."

"Pen."

"Okay, fine! Maybe he did. But--" Penelope raised her finger when she saw you about to cut her off, "--I was more than happy and willing to do it anyway. I also don't like the thought of you being alone in this house all by yourself."

"Pen, I appreciate the gesture, really, I do. But just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm not the same person I was before. I can still deliver a mean punch if I have to," you reminded her. "You don't have to do this."

"Beets," Penelope gripped your shoulders, "I know I don't have to, but I want to, okay? Unless you're not looking forward to a marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night. Shall I make myself scarce?"

You mulled over Penelope's offer for a minute. A marathon of the greatest 90s romcoms every single night did sound tempting.

"Fine." When Penelope began to squeal, you quickly added, "But no smothering!"

Penelope ended up staying for nearly the entire week, during which time Derek was constantly terrorizing her with text and voice messages; either demanding an update on you and the baby or asking Penelope to monitor your condition throughout the day.

"He's being ridiculous," you had commented one night when another one of his text messages came in the middle of My Best Friend's Wedding.

"He's worried about you."

"He's too worried." You grabbed another handful of popcorns. "You have my permission to block him anytime you feel like he's being too much."

"Won't that just give him a reason to hop on a plane and go home early?"

Your munching stopped. "Damn, you're right. Fine, just... tell him off anytime he starts being too crazy."

On Saturday, you finally received word that the team was flying back home to Virginia.

"They'll arrive in a couple of hours," Penelope called out from her position in the kitchen. "I've packed my bag and will get out of your hair as soon as Derek gets here. You guys can--what are you doing?"

Penelope knitted her eyebrows together once she walked back into the living area, seeing you somewhat writhing on the couch.

"I don't know. I just can't seem to get comfortable," you said. "And there's this... squeezing pain, I think? I don't know. I think he's pressing on my bladder or kidney or something."

"Beets." Penelope's face had gone a little paler, but there was the ghost of a smile adorning her fuchsia-painted lips. "I think you just described a contraction."

Your heart stuttered. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Beets." Penelope was beside you in a second, just in time for another contraction to hit. "You're going into labor."

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Head Over Heels in the Moment

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

How Chelsea!Roy met his coach's daughter for the first time.

Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader 0.7k words Warnings: Language, Chelsea!Roy, Roy already being a fool for the reader

Roy Kent wasn’t nervous about going to Chelsea. No way in hell. It was just Chelsea. Legendary Chelsea, with its history of greatness and high expectations for him.

Alright, fine, he was a smidge nervous.

But the moment he laced up his boots and stepped on the pitch, his nerves dissipated. Because no matter where he stood and no matter what kit he wore, it was still football. And Roy Kent loved football.

Just as he was starting to feel comfortable, a flash of pink caught his eye. He glanced away from the drill he was meant to be doing to take in the sight of a bright summer dress and a beaming smile. Fucking hell. If he thought his heart pounded when he ran around on the pitch, it was nothing compared to now. He tried to remember the last time his palms were this sweaty or his mouth this dry; he was failing to think of any instance.

He tapped the shoulder of the fella next to him. “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding towards the vision in pink on the sideline who had yet to even glance his way, instead cheering the names of other players. Players he suddenly wished he was.

His new teammate chuckled knowingly. “Ah. That’s Coach’s daughter. She’s always hanging around. Visits from uni whenever she can.” He clapped Roy on the shoulder sympathetically. “Stay away, though,” he said in a warning voice. “She’s completely off-limits.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Not like I’m gonna do something,” he grumbled. “Just curious.”

Another knowing chuckle rumbled in his teammate’s chest as they resumed their drill. “Sure, Kent.”

Roy remained curious for the rest of training. He kept glancing over, trying to catch her eye. But she never looked his way. She stayed by her father’s side, watching training with a small smile on her lips. Players who came her way were greeted with waves and high-fives, as though they were old friends. He caught the way some of them looked at her; he wondered if he had the same stupid, dreamy expression on his own face. Probably did, he thought. Probably looked like a fucking wanker.

His curiosity finally got the best of him when he caught sight of her alone in the hallway after practice had ended. Telling himself he was just getting comfortable in his new home and trying to get to know people (what a fucking lie), he approached her with a half-wave.

“Oi,” he greeted as she stopped to look at him, eyebrows raised expectantly. “’m Roy.”

She nodded firmly. “I know.”

Roy tried to think of the last time a woman spoke to him so plainly. Some part of him kind of liked it. “You’ve heard of me then?” He dared to lean a smidge closer. “You a fan?”

Her eyeroll somehow managed to be charming. “I’ve been running your paperwork to HR all week,” she scoffed. Despite her aloofness, he could see the corners of her mouth tugging upwards. With another cool nod, she turned on her heel to walk away.

“Wait.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, curiosity finally coloring her face. “You going to tell me your name or what?” He cocked his head at her. “The guys just called you ‘princess’.”

Her eyes sparkled at what he guessed was a familiar nickname. “Guess you better get used to calling me ‘your royal highness’ then,” she mused.

Fuck. She was kind of funny, he realized; Roy tried not to find her so fucking attractive, he really did, but it was impossible. So impossible that he couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face as he shook his head gently at her. “Alright, next time I’ll be sure to mind my manners and curtsy pretty for you.”

That did it. She smiled at him, a real smile that filled her pretty face and made his heart stop in his chest. “Looking forward to it,” she hummed. With a wave over her shoulder, she resumed walking away, this time with a bit more of a spring to her step. “Welcome to Chelsea, Roy Kent.”

Roy unabashedly watched her walk away, his jaw slacking slightly. Off-limits, he reminded himself. Absolutely off-limits. But then she turned a corner, glancing back at him with that smile still on her face.

Fuck it, he thought. Maybe she’d be worth getting in a little bit of trouble for.

[wanderingelvis]

can i request a sort of innocent reader goes to graceland for the first time to meet elvis and she's all shy and nervous and elvis ends up being really sweet to her? maybe she gets scared or something from a thunderstorm or something like that? love ur writing btw!

this is a LONG one, buckle up guys!!

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word count: 4,568

Pairings: Early 60s!Elvis x Innocent!F!Reader

You were nervous to meet Elvis Presley.  You were a friend of Jerry's little sister, so when she invited you to meet the King of Rock n' Roll himself, you couldn't quite believe what you were hearing.

"Oh he's real sweet Y/N, so kind, you're gonna just love him, I know it." Ruth said as you drove up to Graceland in a car that Jerry, and by default, Elvis had sent for the two of you. "But he's a very busy man see, he won't hang around for long." She informed you and you nodded, taking in what she was saying.

Ruth was a much bigger character than you, socially she would command attention and that's what she liked about having you as a friend, you were a little wallflower who was more than happy to be in her shadow.

You turned to the more confident girl in the opposite seat. "Are you sure he don't mind us stayin' the night? I mean, I know he loves you but I'm just a stranger." You asked tentatively.

"Oh be serious Y/N! 'Course he won't mind! Besides, he's probably not gon' even notice you I bet! Might think ya one of the staff!" Ruth giggled playfully, sometimes you felt that her words might be laced with malice but you'd brush it off, silently telling yourself that Ruth surely couldn't be like that. Surely.

When the driver parked up outside of Graceland, Jerry and Sonny came to greet the two of you as you gazed at the surroundings. Now, you'd never exactly struggled for money growing up but you'd certainly never, ever seen wealth like this.

You'd met Jerry a few times but never Sonny, however they were both lovely, with Sonny insisting on taking your bag for you as they took you into the mansion and passed the bags on to the maids in the house who presumably took them to the rooms you'd be staying in.

"Elvis! We're here!" Ruth hollered, running up to the figure that emerged from the kitchen as you lingered behind.

You gasped a little, catching the mans attention in the process, as you realised that you were in the presence of one of the greatest performers of all time. Your sweet excitement made Elvis smirk - he'd always enjoyed the effect he had on women although, if he had to admit it, he preferred women that were more reserved and shy. There was no shortage of women throwing themselves at Elvis and he missed the excitement of trying to win a girl over and he knew instantly when a girl was shy, and he knew instantly that shyness consumed you.

 "Hey there, honey," Elvis said in that low Southern voice, walking up to you and closing the space between the two of you. 

"H-Hi." You stuttered, instantly embarrassed that you couldn't get even one word out without letting your nerves get the better of you. 

Naturally you wouldn't admit this to Elvis, in fact, you hadn't even told Ruth, but you'd been practising in the mirror for the past week what you were you were going to say if you did in fact meet Elvis.

"Oh Mr Presley, you have such a lovely home, thank you for inviting me. My names Y/N, pleased to meet you."

"Ruth's told me so many kind things about you Mr Presley."

"I'm very grateful that you're letting me stay, it's very kind of you Mister." But all of those practises seemed to vanish from your mind as the King of Rock n Roll himself towered over you and you mentally kicked yourself for only managing to muster up a measly 'Hi' and you couldn't even get that right. 

"You gotta name honey?" Elvis smirked slightly.

"Oh um, yes, yes I do!" You smiled, getting all sweet and flustered in front of the big man who raised his eyebrow after you stopped speaking. "Oh!" You gasped, realising you hadn't even told him what your name was. "My names Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N." 

Elvis nodded, he was already fond of you. He'd known Ruth for years and whilst he wouldn't ever say it out loud, he found her a tad annoying, so when she'd asked Jerry to ask Elvis if her best friend to come to Graceland with her, Elvis was expecting someone with a similar personality, he was not expecting what was standing shyly in front of him. 

"Why don't we give you girls a tour, huh? You can see where yous are sleepin' and where everythin' is?" Elvis suggested and you were a little surprised at how welcoming he was and in all honesty, you felt bad for even thinking he would be too busy make an effort with the two of you.

Ruth let out a little giggle, batting Elvis' arm, "I know my way round Elvis! It's like ma second home, silly!" She laughed, but you noticed Elvis didn't exactly seem to reciprocate, just offering Ruth a small smile of acknowledgement. 

"Well, your lil' friend ain't been here before," Elvis said shortly before turning his gaze to you, making you blush and try to look anywhere but at the most famous man in the world. All of a sudden, your battered sneakers were starting to seem real interesting to look at. "Wouldn't want her to feel forgotten now, would we?" Elvis said lowly staring right at you, making you gulp nervously at the intensity that shrouded him, before he gestured for everyone to follow him, presumably to start the tour. 

Now, you knew that Graceland was going to be big, but you didn't imagine it would be this big. As Elvis and Jerry escorted you and Ruth around, you couldn't help but become a little overwhelmed at how many rooms there were. 

It was a lot to take in, leading to you staying as quiet as a mouse, admiring lots of the furnishings and pretty decorations whilst Ruth talked Elvis' ear off, telling him all about how she'd recently seen Roy Orbison perform and how his show was nothing compared to Elvis's. You were too preoccupied by gazing around the hallways and lavish rooms of Graceland to notice that as Elvis placated Ruth with curt hums and nods, he kept looking back and watching you. 

He thought you were an odd little thing, you appeared to be incredibly curious and wide-eyed whilst simultaneously jumping out of your skin any time anyone would make a noise that was even the slightest bit louder than a normal speaking volume.

You weren't even sure how many rooms you'd been shown before you all finally landed on the room that was to be the one that you'd be staying in. Elvis opened the door for you, placing his large hand on the small of your back, making you jump a little at the touch - something only Elvis noticed as you looked up at him with big eyes, offering him a sweet smile and blushing slightly with embarrassment at flinching at his touch before you turned to look at your room.

It was gorgeous, oh Lord, if only your Mommy could see this room, you thought to yourself. It had everything and overlooked the stables. Your eyes scanned the room with awe before they grew wider, setting on your all too familiar stuffed bunny, Hopper, placed on the bed by the pillows, on full display for everyone to see - presumably placed there by one of the maids.

"Is that... a stuffed bunny?" Ruth said, covering her mouth as she snickered at you, delighting in the embarrassment and the flustered panic you were experiencing. 

You scampered over as the group of Elvis, Jerry and Ruth watched you scramble to grab your bunny and throw it under the bedding to hide it. Elvis smirked a little, watching your pathetic albeit adorable attempt at making everyone believe that the little stuffed bunny on the bed wasn't yours.

"No, no I don't know w-what that is!" You stuttered, your back facing the others that were stood in the doorway.

It wasn't that you were ashamed of having your bunny, you just worried that Ruth might make it a bigger deal than it really was. 

"Sure, Y/N..." Ruth giggled. "It's cute that you need a teddy!" Ruth said, despite no truth being laced in her voice. 

"Ruth, that's enough." Jerry said quietly, realising that Ruth was delighting in belittling you.

"I'm sorry!" Ruth chuckled, throwing her hands in the air in mock defence. "I was just sayin', it's cute s'all, classic Y/N."

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of pink as you stood there, now facing Elvis, Jerry and Ruth, your soft pink lips parting to try and say something that would help the sticky situation you were in, but no words were coming out. 

Fortunately, a thick Southern voice started talking instead, your eyes fluttering up to be met with Elvis'. "I think we should show you girls the stables and see them horses, how's about it hm?" Elvis said, mainly to you, clearly saving you from having to say anything more.

You nodded tentatively, your chest rising and falling with anxiety. Elvis gestured with his big ring-covered hand for you to follow as Jerry and Ruth made a head start. You walked towards him in the doorway as he held the door open for you like a gentleman, letting you go past him and sending you a wink to ease your nerves.

Elvis continued his tour of Graceland by showing you the stables and all of the beautiful horses that filled them. The embarrassment you'd felt from the bedroom incident meant that you stayed lingering behind everyone else, quietly taking it all in and only speaking when spoken to. 

You just felt so silly. You didn't want Elvis to feel like he'd invited some silly little kid into his home, you just wanted the ground to swallow you up. 

Once the tour was over, you, Elvis, Ruth and Jerry all joined a few other members for dinner with Sonny instructing you to sit at the right hand of side of Elvis.

"That can't be right Sonny! You know what Elvis is like, he gets real funny about who sits next to him, he wouldn't pick Y/N, he don't even know her!" Ruth retorted in front of everyone except Elvis who had yet to appear for dinner.

"Actually hon, EP requested it directly." Sonny said bluntly, nodding at you to sit down in the chair. Both you and Ruth had a very confused expression on your faces, there had been times when Ruth was little where Elvis had let her sit in that seat but usually it was reserved for whichever girlfriend he had at the time or his right-hand man, Jerry.

You complied and sat down, keeping your gaze focused on the silverware as you felt multiple people staring at you from around the table and daggers being shot your way by Ruth, all until Elvis finally arrived, alleviating the tension.

Dinner proceeded with Sonny and Billy telling Elvis all about Nancy Sinatra's show that they'd just seen as well as Jerry chatting about the new RV he'd acquired for their next trip down to Las Vegas. You listened politely, fascinated by the world that currently surrounded you, all this excitement and oppulence. You couldn't wait to go home and tell your Mommy all about everything that was happening to you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice at your side.

"Say, tell me darlin', what are ya studyin'?" Elvis asked as he sat at the head of the table, with you by his side.

"Oh," You said, your eyes widening at the attention from all around the table suddenly turning to you. "I um, well, truth be told, I was studyin' History and even though it really is interestin' and all, I dropped out to take art classes instead, I like doin' art a lot more." You said fidgeting with your hands as you spoke, making Elvis realise that there was no way that your nerves were going to go away, not any time soon at least.

"Y/N does her own drawings and stuff." Ruth chimed in, interrupting you and making Elvis' attention turn to her. 

"Oh?" Elvis said, partially to you, partially to Ruth.

"She does these lil' cartoons and doodles, don't ya Y/N? They're great for little kids I think, they're that kinda level, like a starter drawing that you could teach a kid!" Ruth said and you furrowed your brow a little. Sure, you didn't think that you were the best artist in the world but your work wasn't just 'doodles', you'd spent a lot of time on learning how to draw well. 

"Well, I'll have t'get you t'draw a picture of me sometime soon in that case." Elvis proposed to you with a smile.

You opened your lips to reply, before Ruth got there first. "Oh Y/N wouldn't be able to do that just yet, unless ya want a goofy lookin' picture I suppose!" She giggled, her words cutting through you. "But maybe you'll get there Y/N! It's good that you're takin' classes and all ain't it? Maybe one day someone might think you're an actual artist!" Ruth said to you from across the table making you furrow your brow at the backhanded compliment. "I've been tellin' Y/N that she should come to Boston with me for my studies, said it would be good for her to get outta Memphis but she refuses to go on a plane! Says it gives her the spooks!" Ruth laughed, embarrassing you further as you knew that the man to your right owned his own plane. "But I'm still goin', got big plans see, I've got three different classes I'm gonna take..." Ruth said, chatting away about all her studies and her big plans, dominating the conversation.

As Ruth rattled on about all sorts, you felt your appetite become lost as you stared at the plate in front of you, trying not to let Ruth's words get to you. 

It was then that a large hand rested unexpectedly on your exposed thigh, causing a soft, quiet gasp to leave your lips, too quiet for anyone but Elvis to notice. You glanced up at the man who sent you a comforting wink and squeezed your thigh with his big hands, the numerous large, cold rings, nipping at your flesh. 

You shot the man a slight smile, appreciating the comfort. You'd always felt invisible when you were stood by Ruth. Everyone adored her and loved that her brother worked for Elvis and you, well, you were just you. Normally, you didn't really mind feeling invisible, you really didn't, but for some reason, Ruth had seemed to make it her mission to make you feel even more invisible than usual whist also exposing all of your biggest insecurities. But as you held eye contact with Elvis, you didn't feel as invisible, not in this moment at least.

Elvis offered you a reassuring nod, before turning his attention to Ruth to appear to seem engaged in whatever she was harping on about, all the while, keeping his hand firmly placed on your though, his thumb rubbing the smooth skin up and down slowly, his silent and secret attempt to comfort you.

The rest of dinner went by quickly, followed by games in the Jungle room that you insisted on just watching, knowing you weren't very good at playing pool and wanting to avoid making a fool of yourself.

But once you began to yawn every thirty seconds, you knew it was your bedtime, excusing yourself and bidding everyone goodnight, waving at them as you left, smiling at Elvis in particular who you'd decided was the nicest of all of the men.

By the time you were in your bed, you were exhausted from the events of the day, emotionally drained and ready for some sleep, but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. 

Now, you'd never been very good with the dark, it scared you enough that your mother let you have a night light permanently, even if the bulbs for it were expensive. However, there were no night lights to be found in your room, making you clutch Hopper, your bunny as tightly as possible as you began to feel the nerves bubble up inside your small body. And just to add to your stress, the storm that had begun outside was becoming unbearably loud, with the wind and rain making you jump and begin to cry. The final straw, after hours of trying to be brave and try and possibly remain calm, despite failing miserably, was the wind rattling the stable doors, causing them to bang repeatedly. Even though it was just that, the stable doors, poor little you didn't realise and the banging noises made you jump out of bed in tears, desperate for your Mommy.

Grabbing onto Hopper and trying to routinely wipe away the tears and the snot that was coming from you, you decided to find the telephone you'd seen Jerry use earlier to call your mother, desperate for her familiar warmth and reassurance that she'd given you before in situations like these.

You softly padded out of your room, trembling as you tried to work out which way to go, the long, dark hallway confusing and scaring you. As you wandered about the house, you felt yourself getting all worked up all over again as you realised you'd gotten lost in the big, dark mansion. You let out soft cries and sniffles as you tried to find any room that you recognised until you finally came to a staircase where you could see some light coming from below it. 

As you walked towards it, trying to muffle and stop your tears, you realised it was Elvis, reading through various papers on a huge couch in front of a burning fireplace. 

Relief washed over you as you realised you'd finally found someone who could help you as your sniffles caught Elvis' attention who turned to you as you reached the bottom of the staircase, your figure now standing in front of him, dressed in nothing but your little, cotton night dress and your bunny in your hands.

"I g-got lost and um, I just, I just wanna call my M-Mommy." You whispered, trying not to let your voice crack after you'd already let a few tears fall down your flushed, pink cheeks.

Elvis was taken aback at the state of you, he knew you were a quiet, shy, nervous little thing but at this moment you'd seemed to regress a little in your behaviour, clutching the bunny that earlier, you'd been so desperate to hide.

Elvis walked over to you with concern in his face, crouching in front of you as you stood in front of him, rubbing away tears with a balled up fist and holding your bunny, Hopper to your chest with your other hand.

"Oh darlin', did somethin' happen? What's wrong hm? We can give yer Mommy a call, it's okay, it's gon' be okay, little one." Elvis soothed in a calming tone as you nodded with a couple of adorable hiccups escaping your small body.

"It was all rainin' and windy and loud and everythin' was dark and I'm scared of the dark and then I kept hearin' banging noises from outside my window and I got scared and I tried to find a telephone but I got lost and didn't know where to go and, and-" You began hyperventilating, reliving the scary night to Elvis who hushed you as he took your small hand in his large one and led you, in your little nightgown, to the couch in front of the burning fireplace. "M'sorry, I feel so stupid."

Elvis sat down beside you before he easily picked you up and brought you into his lap, rubbing soothing circles into your back, relaxing you for the first time since you'd arrived at Graceland and the drowsy sensation that was being caused, leading you to completely forget that you were sitting in the lap of the most famous man in the world. You couldn't help but start to space out a little, the exhaustion of the night catching up to you as well as the wave of relief that consumed you now that you felt safe with Elvis. Elvis watched as you began to blink absent-mindedly, the drowsiness catching up to you and your eyelids growing heavy and sleepy at Elvis' persistent touches.

Whilst in this very moment, Elvis felt a lot of genuine care and concern for you, he'd been thinking about you ever since you'd gone to bed in fact, he couldn't help but enjoy the effect he was having on you. He watched you as you practically melted into his touch, being too overwhelmed and sleepy to even try and resist letting your body rest on his. 

Your fingers were softly stroking through your bunny's fur in an attempt at self soothing as you lazily blinked your long, pretty eyelashes, feeling your mind go all fuzzy and mushy at Elvis' comforting you.

"Oh no darlin', you're not stupid, not stupid at all, I know that." Elvis hushed. "I know it does get awful dark here at night because we ain't near anythin' else. Must've been real scary honey, m'sorry." Elvis cooed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he began run his fingers through your hair to relax and calm you, making you feel even more dozy.

The combination of Elvis' gentle touches and quiet, soothing, low voice and the warmth radiating from his body was all becoming a bit much for you as you involuntarily felt your body leaning into his as you rested in his hold. Your back rested against Elvis' torso as you let your head lull by his collarbone, meaning you couldn't see the smirk that was across Elvis' face.

"Real scary." You murmured in agreement with Elvis as you felt the fear begin to disappear.

"Awh baby, I know." Elvis pacified. "You were a brave girl comin' t'me like you did, you're safe now honey, I got you." He assured you, making you feel all warm and tingly inside. 

You'd never sat in a mans lap before, you'd never been held like this in such a way before but truthfully, you weren't able to process any thoughts properly, not as long as Elvis continued to let his fingers roam your body, relaxing and calming you.

It was as if he'd put some sort of spell on you.

But he was right, you were safe now, you certainly felt that way with him - you didn't even feel embarrassed at having Hopper with you.

And as if he could read your mind, the man gestured to the toy i your clutches. "Looks like yer little friend helped though, hm?" Elvis said, making you realise that it had always been obvious that Hopper was your toy.

"M'sorry for lyin' earlier, I didn't wanna lie, I don't know why I did, but um, but he's my bunny, his name is Hopper. I had him since I was a little girl, and um, my Mommy gave him to me and she saved up all her money one Christmas to get him for me, because um, we didn't really always have that much see, and um, so Hopper is real special t'me." You whispered sweetly, looking down at your lap where Hopper rested.

Elvis kept his eyes trained on you, studying your sleepy expressions and the unconfident stutters in your voice that all appeared so endearing and adorable to him - and despite how annoying he found Ruth, he couldn't help but be silently grateful to her for bringing you to him.

"Dontchu worry darlin', I ain't gon' judge, I think it's very sweet." Elvis told you, causing you to lift your head up and smile up at Elvis. "Now, how about I try give your Momma a call?" Elvis suggested and you nodded.

After a couple of attempts but to no avail, you knew she was probably asleep, you didn't really want to disturb her anymore, you were actually feeling a little bit better in Elvis' company. You didn't feel as nervous around him, he was a lot gentler than you'd imagine him being.

After a while of relaxing in Elvis's hold, you found yourself quietly drifting off to sleep, the fireplace in front of the two of you dimming and the lack of heat causing you to instinctively snuggle closer into Elvis' chest. Following a period of silence, Elvis realised you were falling asleep and realised it was probably time to get the sweet little thing in his lap to bed and he was secretly hoping it would be his.

"Honey?" Elvis whispered, causing you to whine at the disturbance. "Oh little one, you can't fall asleep here, you wanna be in a big comfy bed, dontchu?" Elvis cooed.

"Nuh-uh!" You whined, your eyes still half closed as you wriggled about in Elvis' arms. "Wanna stay with you, don't wanna go back to the dark room." You mumbled, barely coherently.

Elvis knew it was as a result of your overwhelming day, he knew that, but it didn't stop the satisfaction build up within him at you admitting to wanting to stay sleeping in his arms. He also knew that you were just too innocent and too sweet to really understand what you were really saying and what it could lead to but he didn't care. 

"Awh, is my baby too scared to go back to her room?" Elvis murmured adoringly at you, he knew he was being forward with the pet names but he also knew you were in a situation where you were obviously feeling clingy and needy.

You nodded as your head rested on his chest, silently hoping that Elvis would let you stay, even just a little longer, on the couch with him.

"Well, would you like to sleep in my room with me tonight, sweetheart?" Elvis propositioned quietly.

You nodded again, making Elvis smirk once more before hiding it as you pushed your body up from him to face him directly.

"I-I-" You stammered shyly.

"What is it honey?" Elvis asked with a raised eyebrow, noticing that the sudden shyness was back.

"It's just, I don't wanna do any of that kinda stuff, y'know? If that's um, if that's okay, it's just I've never done anythin' like that before and I don't know, I just don't think m'ready, if that's okay?" You said, looking at Elvis with anticipation as you watched his expression soften.

"Oh baby, don't you worry your pretty lil' head, okay? We're just gon' sleep okay? I just wanna look after you little one, make sure you ain't gonna get scared anymore." Elvis assured you, making a weight lift off your shoulders as you reached forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a cuddle. 

"Now then honey, it's far too late for a little girl like you to be awake, let's get you to bed." Elvis chuckled after your sweet gesture of a cuddle, as he helped you off the couch and began to lead you to his bedroom.

"Elvis?" You murmured softly, stopping the two of you from walking any further down the hallway. Elvis hummed in response. "You're not gonna tell Ruth about this are you? I just think she might make fun of me for it or somethin', think I'm bein' a baby about the dark or somethin'." You said anxiously, looking up at Elvis.

"Well, in that case, it'll be our little secret." Elvis assured you as he took your little hand in his big one, leading you all the way to his bedroom.

[waratah-vroom]

Scandalous (ms47)

✨ join waratah's (over) 100 follower celebration ✨ Made to order for super sweet anon

Liked by yndaily, ynsource and 19,274 others ynstylefiles: When will they finally admit they're dating? They're so cute together!

"You need to leave."

Mick had barely finished tying his shoelaces when you threw him his jacket. "Pushing me out so soon, Hase?"

"No, you idiot, I mean you leave now and I'll follow you out in ten minutes. We'll meet in the car."

"This is getting ridiculous, honestly. I don't know why we can't just say we're dating."

You'd had this conversation a million times before. "You know why."

He groaned, his head falling against the back of the couch. His response was always the same. "It's so stupid."

You and Mick had already been dating for three months when your show's publicist approached you about entering a PR relationship with your co-star, Jacob. You'd flat out refused, but since you hadn't gone public with Mick yet, they'd managed to talk you into a compromise of leaving an 'air of ambiguity' between you and Jacob.

Mick wasn't thrilled, and to be honest neither were you, but it was either publicly ignore your boyfriend and get caught grabbing coffee with your co-star a couple of times a week, or damage your reputation with the biggest studio in Hollywood. That was six months ago, and your season finale was set to air in a week.

"It's just until the season finishes, then we can tell everyone."

"It's been six months, Hase. I'm getting exhausted with all the sneaking around."

You were getting exhausted too. It was tiring staggering your exits from hotels and restaurants, never being able to hold your boyfriend's hand in public. It was also getting annoying wearing sunglasses and a beanie everywhere you went, even in the height of summer. But you'd come this far and the finish line was almost in sight.

It's not like you didn't enjoy hanging out with Jacob. The two of you had become close friends since his character had been introduced as your new love interest at the start of the season. It was also helpful that Jacob was a huge sports fan so him being seen with a formula 1 driver didn't raise any questions. He also loved talking to Mick about cars so he was happy to tag along on your 'dates'.

Like right now, when you and Mick had found yourselves at a group dinner with Jacob, a popstar, two NBA players, and a few more of your co-stars.

"You know I love your friends but I really wish this was just the two of us," Mick took hold of your hand beneath the table, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "We could be home alone right now eating pasta. I would have gotten to have my desert first."

"I've been promising Olivia I'd catch up with her for ages," you whispered. "I couldn't turn her down a third time."

You would have much rather been at home too. You'd been on edge all day. Your manager was going to ring you some time tonight and you'd been over thinking the phone call since you'd woken up.

Olivia knew what day it was, how could she not when you brought it up any chance you got? She'd invited you and Mick out tonight as a distraction. "I can see the wheels turning in your head, babe," she said from across the table. "I know you're thinking about it."

"It's an Oscar nomination, how could she not be thinking about it?" Jacob asked, tossing a chip in his mouth.

It was true, how could it not be on your mind? As soon as your new film had started being shown to the press, the Oscar buzz had begun. It had only intensified when the film was finally released, and now you had an entire studio worth of pressure on your shoulders. Today was the day nominations would be announced and you were just waiting for your phone to start buzzing in your pocket.

"You'll get it, Hase. I know you will. You deserve it."

"I bet you'll feel like shit if she doesn't get it now," someone said quickly followed by a thud and a yelp.

"Of course she'll get it, the movie's incredible."

"She's incredible in everything she's in!"

You drowned out their chatter, a bubbly feeling slowly growing in your stomach. You'd won awards before; hell you'd won an Emmy for the first season of your TV show, but the Oscars were big. Really big.

A tapping on your shoulder snapped you out of your daze and Mick said, "your phone's ringing."

"Everyone shush," Olivia's eyes widened as you answered your phone. Her whole body seemed to vibrate as you spoke to someone on the other end.

"Okay, thank you," you nodded, listening as your manager said something about press and photographs. "Yeah, I'll speak with you in the morning. Okay. Bye."

The table was silent, everyone's eyes were on you, waiting for you to speak.

"I got the nomination. Best Actress."

Cheers and shouts erupted from everyone at the table. Olivia was the loudest, shouting that she never had any doubt, but your eyes were focused solely on your boyfriend.

He grinned, "ich war mir sicher, dass du es kapieren würdest, Hase."

"I don't know what that means but it sounds like you love me."

"I do love you," his hands grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face to his as he kissed you. Just as you deepened the kiss by slipping your tongue into his mouth he whispered, "ich bin so stolz auf dich"

"Again, no idea," your lips chased after him as he pulled away to look in your eyes.

He went in for another kiss but stopped when Olivia cleared her throat, "as much as I'm loving this moment between you two, there's cameras."

Y/N L/N CAUGHT CHEATING ON JACOB ELORDI

Y/N L/N SEEN KISSING MICK SCHUMACHER AT AN INTIMATE DINNER: CLICK HERE TO SEE HER RUMOURED BOYFRIEND'S REACTION

JACOB ELORDI REPORTEDLY DEVASTED AMIDST Y/N L/N CHEATING RUMOURS

"Oh my god, I'm going to have to post one of those notes app apologies, aren't I?" You'd been pacing the living room for what felt like hours.

Mick had checked his phone and it hadn't been longer than five minutes. He'd tried to pull you in for a hug but you'd shaken him off, continuing your laps around the coffee table. He'd resigned himself to sitting on the couch and letting you rant. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"People think I cheated on Jacob."

"You'd have to be dating him for it to count as cheating."

"Everyone hates me!"

"I think you're overreacting, Hase."

"You don't get it, Mick. You're not a woman. It's always our fault. They're making me out to be some sort of... I don't know... Sex-crazed adulterer!"

"Adulterer? I don't know what that means."

"Cheater, Mick. I'm a cheater," you finally collapsed on the couch next to him, your hands covering your face.

"Hase. Schatz. Love. Come here," he patted his thigh and you sighed, reluctantly moving to sit on his lap. All it took was Mick stroking your hair for you to bury your face in his shoulder and let out a shaky breath.

"You haven't done anything, okay? It's always just been me and you. You can't cheat on me with me, can you? Plus it's not like you've ever kissed Jacob or confirmed you two were dating. The media made it all up in their heads. Sure you never told them they were wrong and I'm not going to say I said it would end badly-"

"Mick," you groaned. "Not helpful."

"It'll blow over, Hase. I promise."

He looked so sure of his words, his blue eyes full of confidence. He always had a way of putting you at ease.

You pressed your forehead against his and kissed his nose. "You still love me, right?"

He went to turn his head away but your palm caught his cheek, keeping his eyes locked on your own. "Do I need to respond to that?"

"Yes."

"Ich liebe dich mehr als alles andere."

Tagged: mickschumacher Liked by yourfriend, taylorswift and 15,392,842 others yourusername: In my lover era 💘

mickschumacher: Mein Schatz 🤍

jacobelordi: Never seen a better matched pair than you and Mick

oliviarodrigo: Cutest couple!

georgerussell63: Thank god. I think Mercedes admin was going to have a heart attack if they had to crop you out of another photo. ↳ mercedesamgf1: It's true, my blood pressure has been shockingly high.

read more of my writing here

ﾟ｡ ⋆ mags' radio: Idk how awards nominations work... so pls suspend your disbelief. This was a fun one! I know anon said they wanted a chaotic ending, so I tried my bestest ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

German translations (idk German so I used a translator)  Hase, Schatz = affectionate nicknames (side note: all german nicknames are adorable) Ich war mir sicher, dass du es kapieren würdest = I knew you’d get it Ich bin so stolz auf dich = I’m so proud of you Ich liebe dich mehr als alles andere = I love you more than anything

taglist: @fulla02reads @flowerchild-96 @camillalarke @cool-ultra-nerd @azxulaa @booksobsess @formulakay

[kittenofdoomage]

Let me take you back...

.... to when this happened:

I'm still not over it. Naturally, I wrote something for it. It's below the cut. Happy Friday! 😘

Carnal

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

Word Count: 1651

Warnings: smut, blow jobs/oral sex, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, drunk!Sherlock, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, slight cockwarming, unbeta’d (we die like heroes)

You had been surprised to open the door to Enola and a very drunk Sherlock when you’d not been expecting either of them. Getting him up the stairs had been a challenge; Sherlock weighed about the same as a small elephant, and you had to hold your giggles at Enola’s repeated remarks about his ridiculous size. Once he was inside the apartment, he managed to move under his own power - just about - refusing assistance when it came to removing his coat and allowing it to hit the floor with an ungracious thud. He quickly landed on the chaise longue with one arm slung over his face, mouth half-agape as he got himself comfortable.

“You can sleep in the guest room,” you whispered to Enola. “I’ll deal with him.”

“Are you certain?” the younger girl asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m certain,” you replied, shooing her off, well aware she probably hadn’t slept in a proper bed for weeks, and you knew Sherlock wouldn’t actually mind. Despite his outward exasperation at his little sister, he adored her, and wouldn’t deny her one night of comfortable sleep. Enola smiled and headed off, content to leave her big brother in your capable hands.

Sherlock grunted as you unlaced his shoes, pulling them off one by one, offering no resistance but no assistance either. As you moved further up, going for the buttons on his waistcoat, he grabbed at your wrist, lifting his arm from his face to shoot you the most inebriated grin you had ever seen. “You should buy me a drink first,” he slurred, and you smirked at him.

“I think you had enough to drink,” you scolded. “Now let me get you out of this before you fall asleep and strangle yourself with your tie.”

He pursed his lips, blowing out a puff of air in irritation, but his grip on your wrist loosened, allowing you to pluck the buttons of his waistcoat undone, yet he gave no indication he was going to move for you to actually get it off of him. You clicked your tongue in impatience, lifting your hands to get his tie undone, only to find your fingers encased in his much larger ones.

“Sherlock -”

“You’re so gentle with me, my lady,” he murmured, kissing your fingertips. “Why do you take such good care of me?”

You smiled despite his intoxication. “Because someone has to,” you chided gently, attempting to pull away. “And you know very well why that someone is me.”

“Mmm, yes,” he chuckled, “because you love me.”

“Yes, dear. Now will you let me get -” His lips brushed your palm, and lidded lust-drink eyes flitted up to you. “Sherlock -” He grinned again, pulling your hand down to cover the bulge in his pants, and you sucked in a breath, glancing towards the door to make sure you were alone. “You’re incorrigible.”

A low chuckle greeted the slight, but you were already kneeling beside him. “Yet you remain,” he breathed, releasing your hand. “Let me feel that pretty mouth on my cock, sweetling.”

You glanced backwards again, letting your fingers find the fastenings on his trousers; he was already achingly hard underneath the material, springing into your palm as soon as it was free. Sherlock moaned when you stroked him, clinging to the low back of the chaise as he closed his eyes in bliss. “You are a bad influence, Sherlock Holmes,” you hissed.

“As I recall,” he mumbled, “you did not require much influencing.”

With a scowl, you leaned in, swiping your tongue across the thick tip, tasting the first beads of his essence, and when you looked up at his face, his teeth were buried in his bottom lip, an expression of pure ecstasy covering his handsome features. Once upon a time, you had believed such carnal indulgences belonged only in brothels, or at a stretch, in the wedded bed chamber - this was neither, but you’d quickly found that there was pleasure to be had in someone else’s enjoyment. The sound he made when you took him into your mouth was enough to prompt a rush of warmth between your thighs.

“Yes,” he groaned, hips undulating as you began to take him deeper, letting your saliva ease his path. One large hand came up, resting against the side of your head, guiding without pressure, and you moaned around him, squeezing your legs together to try and stem the throb growing there. “Don’t stop,” Sherlock hummed, arching on the chaise. “Mmm, your mouth feels perfect…”

Your neck was beginning to ache with the odd angle and the height of the furniture, so you pulled off of him to adjust yourself, only to find yourself pulled up and onto the chaise longue with him, manhandled until you were straddling him, skirts bunched around your hips. He grinned up at you, clearly still inebriated, though you didn’t protest when his large hands made their way underneath your skirt to the thin fabric hiding your skin.

“Too many layers,” he grumbled, tugging at the material, and you yelped as he gathered it in both hands and pulled hard, smirking up at you when the satisfying tear followed. Your protest at the loss of another set of undergarments was lost when his thick fingers prodded at your sex, and you gripped the back of the chaise as you slumped forward, gasping in surprise. “That’s better,” Sherlock muttered, arching up to kiss you suddenly.

A single digit sought out your entrance, finding you already wet, and you whined into his mouth as he used one hand to torment you, using the other to make the hole in your clothing bigger. His cock was trapped underneath your bottom, twitching and hard enough for you to feel it through the layers; you tore away from his mouth to breath, and he moved again, lifting you easily to force two thick fingers into your slick channel. The penetration knocked the breath out of you, and you bit your lip to stop yourself screaming and disturbing anyone else - the last thing you needed was to be caught in such a compromising position.

“That’s it,” Sherlock grunted, watching your face with a satisfied grin as he worked his fingers inside you, coaxing out your arousal until your body began to tremble. You couldn’t stop the way your hips worked against him, your traitorous body seeking out more friction, and you closed your eyes as you felt your walls clench around him, unwilling to see the smug look on his face.

Your orgasm was slow, a shudder that ran through you over and over. Sherlock murmured his approval, withdrawing his fingers, manhandling you until you were poised with the thick tip of his cock at your entrance. No amount of protesting would stay his enthusiasm, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself crying out as he pulled you down, splitting you open in one hard stroke. He paused then, chest heaving, clothing disheveled, that one unruly curl falling into his eyes as he allowed you a moment to adjust. You shivered as you forced yourself to relax, feeling him press deep, almost missing the smile spreading across his lips.

“What?” you whispered, self-conscious under his heated gaze.

“This may not be the best place for this,” he muttered, reaching up to grope your chest through your dress. “I should conduct myself better.”

You smiled shyly. “Would you like to move? Perhaps to the bed?”

“No,” he exhaled, pulling you down to kiss you. “I shan’t.”

His free hand snuck back underneath your skirts, cupping your bottom through the ruined fabric of your undergarments, and you moaned into his mouth as he began to force your hips back and forth, creating the smallest amount of delicious friction inside you. Fresh moisture coated his cock, allowing him to increase the movements, and you found yourself panting when you pulled back, held in place by his hands.

“We must be quiet,” you whimpered, pressing your cheek into the palm of his hand.

“Mmm,” he agreed, staring up at you hungrily. “Yes, you should be quiet.” His hand moved, covering your mouth, and your eyes went wide at the rush of heat that filled you. “That’s it, sweetling -” A grunt followed the affectionate term and his face twisted in pleasure just as your pussy began to tighten around him. You could barely keep your eyes open, silenced and forced to breathe through your nose by the hand covering your mouth, unable to move more than he allowed by the hand on your rump. It took embarrassingly little to wring the pleasure from your body, and all you could do was gasp into his palm and quiver around him.

He didn’t slow even when you went a little slack, using his superior strength to manipulate your body on top of his, spearing up into you over and over. Usually, he would withdraw before the crucial moment, but this time he didn’t stop, and you found yourself suddenly craving it, falling into a final climax of your own as he spilled into you, warmth filling your insides and leaking out around him. Even when he was done and he pulled you down into a last kiss, he didn’t seem to care for the consequences of what you had done - his eyes fluttered shut, a ghost of a smile on his lips as his cock continued to twitch inside you.

“Sherlock…” You tapped his face lightly, and his eyes opened with a second of bewilderment before he smiled at you. “You finished… you… inside…” The heat in your face was unbearable, but he kept on smiling, closing his eyes again, apparently unconcerned that he was still buried inside you.

“Oh dear,” he drawled, sounding anything but upset at what he’d done, sighing happily as he wrapped his arms around you. “Then perhaps I shall make an honest woman of you.”

It would be remiss of me not to tag @deandoesthingstome (though I don't know if you even read Sherlock, I just don't wanna get yelled at for not tagging you 😅)

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt. 1

Gif not mine

A/N: Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Summary: For the most part swap Vision with mutant Y/N whose powers were enhanced by the Mind stone embedded in her forehead courtesy of Hydra. Takes place post Multiverse of Madness, only instead of trying to kill America Chavez, Wanda taught the teen how to control her powers and in doing so, learned how said powers worked herself, becoming able to copy them.

With her newfound powers, Wanda searches the multiverse for her lost spouse and children. She discovers a universe where Y/N exists but she and their sons do not. This aligns with her plans, allowing her to avoid dealing with another version of herself. Using her powers, Wanda intends to make Y/N love her in an attempt to rebuild their family. Whether she does so willingly, or the Scarlet Witch makes her, both are acceptable to Wanda.

Masterlist here

Chapter One

A silent scream escapes your lips as you gasp for breath. Another nightmare. Damn, that's the third one this week, and it's only Monday. Weary, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and head to the bathroom to splash water on your face. It's finals week, and you have an exam in a few hours. A quick glance at the clock shows that it's already 3AM and you groan. Maybe you can manage to get a couple more hours of sleep before the rest of the night slips away.

Lately, for some unknown reason, your troubled mind has been subjecting you to night terrors that make you question your entire reality. These nightmares have been unusually realistic, and you frequently experience more than one per night. At times, you are haunted by so many consecutive nightmares, causing your friends to wonder if you are getting any sleep at all.

The sound of your footsteps padding across the floor is the only thing you hear as you walk from your bedroom to the adjoining bathroom to wash your face. You don't bother turning on the lights since you have a nightlight in the bathroom. You've never been a fan of the pitch black darkness in the bathroom, but the bright overhead lights give you a migraine at the best of times. As a result, your bathroom is mostly covered in shadows, usually just enough for you to do what you need to do and then go back to bed. However, tonight is different. As you accidentally glance up at your reflection, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you see a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at you from behind, causing your heart to race.

As you spin around, you raise a fist to defend yourself against the intruder, only to realize that you are alone in your bathroom. You turn back to your mirror and find yourself alone once again. It must have been remnants of the nightmare. In a hurry, you turn on the faucet's cold water tap, run your hands under it, and splash your face. Although hesitant to fully look away from your reflection for fear of the 'intruder' returning, you still want to wipe the sweat from your clammy face.

It was just a bad dream. However realistic, it wasn’t actually real. Shaking it off, you quickly close the bathroom door and head back to bed, intent on getting as much of your remaining night’s sleep as you can before your exam tomorrow. Or rather, later today. 

A few hours later, you find yourself in your usual study spot at the university. The library is your safe haven, and it's definitely your favorite place to be. Even if you didn't have to study (which you absolutely did - you were so far behind if you had any hope of graduating with honors, you needed to spend every available moment here), you would often be found here simply reading a book. Your friends and professors are well aware of your voracious appetite for reading, so if anyone ever wonders where to find you, the answer is likely to be here.

Your first exam was in an hour, and you were cramming every last bit of knowledge you could before taking said exam. You needed the highest grade possible. Your future, your escape, depended on it. It could be argued that this desperation was why you initially didn't notice the sound of children's voices reverberating through the library. While the library was usually empty, it was not uncommon for adult students to bring their children with them to study when their own childcare plans fell through. It was inconvenient, but you tried to be considerate and simply tuning it out. Another day, another distraction, and you didn't have time for it.

Eventually, the disruptive sound became impossible to ignore, and despite your desire to not be rude, you needed to focus and get your work done. With more force than strictly necessary, you slammed your book shut, preparing to find a quieter place to study. However, just as you were about to stand up, two twin boys, around ten years old, came running down the library hall, filled with laughter and giggles, heading straight towards you. Your eyes widened as you realized they had no intention of changing their course - they were definitely going to collide with you.

Opening your arms to catch them, and hopefully prevent all of you from careening onto the ground, you found yourself asking “Hey what’s all this? Where’s your mother, you guys?”

The boys looked at you, confused. “What are you talking about, Momma?”

Your eyes turned the size of saucers. “Momma”? That was new. Someone must be playing a trick on you. How ~delightful~ you thought, annoyed. As if you weren’t already stressed out enough, someone had roped in a couple of kids to play a game of fuck around and find out. Well, whomever had put them up to this, when you found them, they were about to find out. 

The library's main door swung open, revealing the presence of an incredibly beautiful woman you estimated to be in her mid thirties, with fiery red hair and the most mesmerizing emerald eyes you had ever seen. Her appearance headed straight towards you left you speechless, immediately taking all the wind out of your sails. Oh well, you were always more bark than bite, you supposed. If you thought her looks were stunning, though, they paled in comparison to the melodic sound of her angelic voice.

“Billy, Tommy, come here boys!”

"Mommy!" the twins shouted at the same time before running into her arms. Part of you wanted to scold them for clearly breaking the library's code of conduct, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it when all three of them just looked so happy. You couldn't explain why your heart clenched at the sight of them either, but for some reason, now that the initial surprise had faded, you were soothed by their presence.

You observe their interaction, not wanting to interrupt their intimate moment. Your heart ached at how comfortable the family appeared to be with one another. Once the stunning woman appears reassured about her children’s well-being, she instructs them to go play and shooing them away before redirecting her attention towards you. You feel a pleasant tightening in your chest as her warm gaze focuses on you.

Even though the children have clearly disrupted your valuable study time, you find yourself dismissing it as if it were insignificant. "Oh, it's no problem, I understand how children can be." You don't, you have never had a sibling nor a child of your own, and you have never babysat a day in your life. 

"It's just that they missed you so much, darling," she whispered, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

“Huh?”

She takes a step closer, invading your personal space, and begins adjusting your shirt. One of the buttons had come undone at some point, and she seems determined to fix it. Part of you wants to point out that she, a complete stranger, should not be in your personal space, let alone touching your clothing. And what did she mean by saying that her children "missed" you? You didn't know them. You didn't even know her. Warning bells start ringing in your head, as you are pretty sure this is the plot of some horror movie. You should leave. This is not a level of crazy you can deal with right now. 

"The boys missed you, Detka. It's been a long time since you've been home, so we decided to come see you!" The woman finally finishes fixing your shirt and looks up at you. Though there is warmth in her expression, there's also a hint of madness, her once green eyes tinged with red.

“I-ah… that’s great, and all but I uhh.. I have an exam coming up, I need to get going.”

“Going?”

The warmth in the woman's voice is gone, replaced by a raspy iciness that sends a chill down your spine.

"My love, the only place you need to go is home, with us, your family."

You turn to face the woman and immediately regret it. Standing before you is no longer the woman in mom jeans and a plaid shirt. Instead, she appears to be dressed in some expensive sorceress cosplay that you estimate would cost thousands of dollars to create or purchase. When... when could she have possibly changed? Just a second ago she was dressed like a normal person, right?

Slowly, you take in the sight of her. Not only has her outfit changed, but her overall appearance as well. Her cheeks hollowed, the sockets of her eyes are sunken as if she hasn't slept in weeks, and her eyes are a glowing crimson. The same shade from your nightmares.

This isn’t real. This is another nightmare. One you need to wake up from. 

“Oh absolutely fucking not.” You whisper, as you turn and run.

Unbeknownst to you, the Scarlet Witch allows you to flee. With a flick of her wrist, she could have immobilized you, could have compelled you to accompany her, whether willingly or not, but she chooses not to. The pursuit begins, and she intends to enjoy herself. You will succumb to her, and do so quite prettily. She starts walking down the hallway after you, taking her time. After all, now that she has found you, she has all the time in the world to play with you.

Grace has never been a quality that you possess. In fact, you remember a song your mother made up when you were a child specifically to remind you just how graceless you were. Not that it helps you now, as your brain never finds the appropriate time to recall useless facts. Cursing your ineptitude, you rush out of the library as fast as your legs can carry you.

 Moments later, you’re throwing yourself into every door along the hall, however, none of them open. What is wrong with this place? Why is everything locked? You don't remember the university being so fond of locking everything, but then again, you only go to about the same four places. Variety might be the spice of life, but your stomach (anxiety) prefers a milder taste.

As you run, you hear the clicking of the woman's heels, hot on your trail. Or is she really hot on your trail? It sounds as if... you tilt your head, listening. She's walking? You think to yourself that surely you can outrun a woman walking in heels. Surely. (Your asthma would suggest otherwise). Abandoning yet another locked door, you rush further down the hallway. Maybe you don't need to outrun her or find a room to hide in; after all, barricading yourself would only delay the inevitable. Your goal is to reach civilization, to find other people. Speaking of which, where is everyone? Usually, this wing of the university is bustling with activity at this hour.

Exhausted, you pause to catch your breath, hands resting on your knees, hoping that you have managed to buy yourself some time. Unfortunately, your hopes are dashed as her low, raspy voice fills the corridors, humming what sounds like a lullaby in an unfamiliar language. The eerie sound sends chills down your spine, making it painfully clear that luck is not on your side. Where could she be? She is not next to you, nor ahead, yet her voice continues to echo, sounding almost...

Almost the same moment you realize the source of the danger, a hand reaches through the mirror from behind you and grabs your shirt with an unnatural strength. You scream loudly, hoping to alert someone in the building for help, but no one comes to your aid. "What the- LET GO OF ME!" You forcefully pull your shirt from her grip, tearing it in the process, and hastily retreat down the hallway.

To your horror, you see the woman's arm brace against the wall and begin to pull herself out through the mirror. You scramble to your feet, desperate to flee once again, with only one thought repeating in your mind: "What the fuck?!" None of this could be real.

"Y/N," a low voice said in a saccharine tone. "Where do you think you're going? Don't you know that I will always find you? I have crossed thousands of universes to find you, and now that I have you, I will never let you go." In any other context, this would probably be incredibly sweet. Currently however, it only fuels your fear, sending you into a blind panic. You have to escape whatever the hell this is.

Navigating through corridor after corridor you eventually  spot one of your classmates at the end, entering the exact exam room you needed to be in that morning. It's a desperate situation, but maybe they can buy you some time while you make your escape through a window or something. It’s not a brave thought, you’re not proud of it, but survival instincts have already kicked in. 

You quickly catch up to your classmate, despite initially being so much farther behind, managing to slide into the room just after them. The proctor promptly closes the door behind you. You're breathing heavily, and in your haste, you embarrassingly just slid into the backside of your classmate, with your shirt heavily torn. You must look ridiculous, but unsurprisingly no one questions you about it, your classmate simply looking miffed and whispering an insult as they move out of your personal space. The situation would be comical if you hadn't just been running for your life.

It’s fine. This is fine. Everything’s fine. 

Steadying your breathing, you make your way to the back of the classroom, nearest the window and stare apprehensively at the door. You’re expecting any second now for that woman to come barging in, but she doesn’t, and now here you are ready for your exam. Wow you must really be losing it. Stress induced hallucinations, that has to be it.

Although you were hesitant to simply continue with your day, the world doesn't wait for anyone. Whether you actively participated or not, your proctor would still grade your exam, which your future still depended on. You made an effort to push the hallucination from your mind and concentrate on the information you had retained for the exam, aiming to achieve the highest score possible.

Once you have completed the exam, you hand it in and cautiously enter the hallway. The grades wouldn't be posted until the end of the term, but you were confident enough in your answers to believe that you had earned at least an A. Whether it was an A+ or A- was still uncertain, but you were hoping for the former. So focused were you on your test that you had almost forgotten about the incident earlier that morning. For a moment, you wondered if you should visit the university's nurse. Although she was not an actual doctor, it was a free service, and perhaps she could recommend something. On the other hand, at worst, she would suggest getting more sleep, and at best, she would advise you to see a doctor, which you couldn't afford. Not to mention the argument your parents would start regarding the doctor’s bill (as if they were above opening your mail). Perhaps not. 

You had no more exams for the day, so it was time to go home. There were chores to do for your parents, and then you had to study for tomorrow's exam. If you were lucky, you could finish everything early and get a few extra hours of sleep, hopefully avoiding another hallucination like today. Rubbing the exhaustion from your face, you head towards the bus stop. It was early enough that the bus should arrive within the next fifteen minutes, and you would be home in about an hour. Everything was going according to plan. Tomorrow was going to be a great day, you just had a feeling.

Once on the bus, your exhaustion started to overwhelm you, your headphones doing little to drown out the ambient noise. Before long, you were fast asleep. Even if you were awake, you probably wouldn't have noticed the viridian eyes in the reflection of the bus window watching over you. Unlike before, these eyes didn't appear to be of malicious intent. If anything, they seemed to observe you with care and empathy. If the volume of your headphones spontaneously happened to outweigh that of the alarm you had set for yourself to awaken you for your stop, that was just a coincidence.

A/N 2: sorry but the writers of the M.o.M. butchered her character just to have her shoehorned into a villain role so Strange would have an adversary already established in the MCU as a powerful magic user - I'm still salty about it. However Ms. Olsen's performance was phenomenal. Anyway lmk if this is absolutely trash or if you wanna maybe read more? I have a couple of chapters pre-written but not the entire thing.

Many thanks to my editors @flowers-shouldnt-die, and Brooke for helping me through this and providing valuable feedback! Especially @flowers-shouldnt-die for her assistance with translations in helping me learn both Hungarian and Russian for this. Wouldn't have made it this far in the story without you :3

[wildgirllz]

this is super random thought that i had about Bucky, i shared it to people before but never put on asks/requests... so could you write something like this?

Imagine you getting a new roommate. Or should I say roommates because you did not expect Bucky would move in with certain adorable fluffball named Alpine. You don't mind though, you always wanted a pet but never had the chance to adopt any. And having Alpine around feels like she's your pet as well.

Your relationship with Bucky wasn't the best or the worst. It was neutral. Mostly because Bucky himself was quite reserved. He is either not at home (possibly in some sort of mission with Sam) or he's curling up with Alpine somewhere within the shared apartment. But that don't mean that y'all are not secretly pining for each other ;)

One day, you came back home from work to see Bucky pacing around anxiously. Turns out Alpine was missing, he can't find her anywhere. So they decided to went out to search for her.

You found Alpine first, she was being chased by an unleashed dog. Your poor baby was running for her life. Not thinking twice, you try to catch up with her and scoop her up to your chest before stumbling on the ground. You ended up hovering over the cat, protecting her from the feral dog. Indirectly getting yourself bitten/scratched on your shoulders, your back, any spot that was exposed to the dog. You were bleeding due to the unrestrained strength from the dog's attacks, but you mind was more concern of the cat in your arms.

When Bucky saw this. How you were literally sacrificing your body for Alpine; well he almost went full winter soldier mode. Like... no one touches "his girls". No one. But he managed to hold it back (cause we don't want to hurt the doggo) and of course, saves the day.

And the next following days were just how Bucky clings to you and do every little thing for you so you don't have to lift a finger when he's around.

You pull out your mug, he would take it from you and get your coffee done before you could stop him. You open the cabinet door in the storage room, he'd take the vaccum out before you could reach out to it. He made sure that your breakfast, lunch and dinner was on the dot; of course he was the chef of all the amazing dishes served to you.

It was nice and all at first but its not like you were paralyzed or something. And its been nearly 2 weeks. Your wounds were almost healed. You wanted to do something at least but apparently Bucky thinks that you needed rest.

So you kinda raised your tone, "i can't even make grab myself snack from the kitchen now? Whats next, Bucky? You'll bathe me? Or better yet you'll help me to get off? Cause god forbid I can't even turn on a fucking vibrator because I'm 'severely injured ' "

You were spouting all the things that you thought he wouldn't have the guts to do, just to make him stop doing literally everything for you. But turns out he was more than willing to do exactly what you just proposed.

Maybe he don't even need to use the vibrator. Maybe his fingers were enough, or his mouth, or his cock.

This is how I imagined it in my head, but feel free to write in your own way though! Have a nice day, love ♡

Girl look at that request 💀 you’re insane

Here you go!! <3

(I most definitely did not do your request justice im so sorry)

Let Me Do It Myself

It had been nearly two weeks since you saved Alpine from the unleashed dog, and Bucky had been hovering over you ever since. At first, it was nice to have someone taking care of you, but now it was starting to feel suffocating.

You were sitting on the couch, trying to work on your laptop, but Bucky kept interrupting you. Every time you tried to do something, he would jump up and do it for you. It was driving you crazy.

"Bucky, please," you said, exasperated. "I can get my own glass of water."

"I just want to help," he replied, looking at you with concern.

"I know, and I appreciate it, but I need to do things for myself. I'm not helpless."

Bucky looked at you for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Okay, I understand. But if you need anything, just ask."

You nodded, relieved that he seemed to be getting the message. But over the next few days, he continued to hover, always ready to jump up and do things for you. You were starting to feel like a burden.

One evening, you were making yourself a sandwich when Bucky walked into the kitchen.

"Let me do that," he said, reaching for the knife.

"No, Bucky," you said firmly. "I can make my own sandwich."

"I just want to help," he repeated.

"I know, but I need to do things for myself. I need to feel like I'm not completely helpless."

Bucky looked at you for a moment, then sighed. "Okay, I understand. But please be careful."

You rolled your eyes. "I will."

As the days passed, you tried to assert your independence, but it seemed like every time you did, Bucky was there to pick up the slack. You were starting to get frustrated.

Then, one day, you snapped.

"I can't even make grab myself snack from the kitchen now?" you said, your voice rising. "What's next, Bucky? You'll bathe me? Or better yet, you'll help me to get off? Because God forbid I can't even turn on a fucking stove because I'm 'severely injured.'"

Bucky looked at you, his expression unreadable. "Is that what you really think of me?"

The passion between them was palpable, the tension wrapping around them tight like a cord in the small bedroom. The thundering rain outside its windows provided the perfect background music for their highly charged moment.

Bucky Barnes had just crossed a line, pushing his luck with pushing the boundaries of her patience, and now he was paying the price. She was angry and she had every right to be. 

'You always do this,' she said, her voice tight with frustration. 'You always think that you know what's better for me than I know for myself.'

'No, I just,' he stumbled over his words, her anger turning him on. 'I don't want you to get hurt.'

She huffed in response, pushing his chest away from her and not even trying to hide her scowl. He stepped back and let his hands slide off of her body, feeling the loss of her warmth instantly.

She knew that her frustration was only turning him on more, which only made her angrier. She wanted to take control of the situation.

' You don't get to make decisions for me, Bucky,' she said, her voice softer this time around, though still firm with her assertion.

He swallowed, his throat actually running dry, his body responding in a way that only she could make it. He stepped closer to her, his hands sliding around her waist before he pulled her into him. 

She expected him to say something in response, not to take her in his arms and bring his lips down upon hers.

Their mouths moved together as if they had done this a million times, each stroke and caress of their lips only making them hungrier for more. His fingers ran up her back, squeezing her closer and further teasing her already sensitised skin.

The taste of him consumed her, making her forget why she was even angry with him in the first place. He let out a groan of satisfaction as her hands ran through his hair, both trying to deepen the kiss.

Finally when they did pull apart, both of them breathing heavily, their eyes connected, neither wanting to break the contact.

He leaned down again, his lips running down her neck, her moan vibrating through his body as he left a trail of gentle kisses. She arched into him as his tongue ran over her collarbone, his hands exploring her body as he moved lower. 

He groaned when his fingers touched her between her thighs and her body instantly reacted, pressing against him, desperate to feel the pleasure his hands were giving her.

He pulled back and looked at her, their eyes still connected as each of them tried to take the other in. His face was filled with admiration and appreciation as he said, 'You're so beautiful.'

He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her again as he lowered her onto the bed, his body following hers as her hips moved against his. For a moment, he paused, his lips still connected to hers, a question in his eyes, asking for her permission. 

Her eyes answered for her when she let out a soft moan, pushing herself against him even more, pressing his body into hers. 

He responded by pushing himself in, their bodies melting together as he started to move, his hips moments surging upward with each thrust. His hands still moved around her body, both bracing for the intensity of the pleasure, and caressing her soft curves, taking in the sensation of her body against his.

'God, you feel so good,' he said, his words barely audible over her moans of pleasure.

The intensity built as they moved together, each of them finding their release moments later, Bucky burying his face into her neck and calling out her name as his orgasm swept over them.

They laid there, their bodies still connected, until finally Bucky rolled off of her and laid on his back next to her. 

He reached over and gently brushed her hair away from her face, a satisfied smile gracing his face. He paused for a moment, just taking her in, before finally speaking.

'I'm sorry for trying to make decisions for you,' he said softly, regret laced into his voice. 'I just want to take care of you and make sure that nothing ever hurts you. I love you.'

“I love you so much, Bucky.”

[that1emowitch]

One shot suggestion: Dick finding out about joyfire bc him finding out his little brother is dating his EX (and honestly probably his other ex too, let’s be real) IS SO FUNNY

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!

(also can I just say I also love ur username <3)

This isn't short enough to be a drabble but not exactly too long either, it's 760 words, so make of that what you will. Here it is!

TW: Jason's usual level of swearing but milder

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!"

Dick stood in Jason's doorway at the Manor, eyes wide. This was one of those rare times when Jason was staying here, just for a few days, mostly for Alfred's sake. His friends (or so Dick thought) Roy and Kori had joined him— for reasons unknown.

Dick was... feeling slightly awkward with them being around, Kori more so. He was quite civil, buddies, even, with Roy— after all, they'd only dated for a week or so. But Kori... their relationship had not ended well, at all. But Jason refused to unless his Outlaws did, so Dick let it slide.

He'd gone up to call them down for dinner, at Alfred's bidding, going to Jason's room first... to find Jason sitting on Kori's lap while she cradled him, and Roy french-kissing Jason.

"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!" The words tore out of him as he stood with his eyes wide, trying to process what he'd just seen.

Jason turned beet red, suddenly jumping away from the red heads. Kori sat cross-legged, smiling as if nothing had happened, while Roy wore a smug grin.

Dick turned to them, his voice high-pitched with disbelief. "AND YOU ARE DATING MY LITTLE WING?"

"I ain't little, Dickface," Jason scoffed from the corner, looking downright embarrassed.

"I don't see the problem," Kori stood from the bed, towering over all three men. "You and I, or you and Roy are not dating anymore. And we are all adults. And we have the love for each other. Why would we not date?"

A unbelieving sound escaped Dick. He turned to Roy, eyes flaming. "You. I know for a fact how vulgar you get in a relationship. Have you done it with my baby brother?"

From across the room he heard Jason's choked gasp, but he paid it no mind.

"Dude. Your 'baby brother' is 24." Roy shrugged, resting a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Why're you getting so worked up over it?"

"I'm not— no, no, I'm not worked up!" Dick scoffed. He faced Jason, pouting. "You. You stole my exes!"

Finally, Jason managed to get control over his expression and forced a smirk. "Yeah. Maybe they just know who's better."

"Yes, Jason is a much better of the partner than you, Dick," Kori pointed out not-so-helpfully.

Roy finally registered Dick's bloodthirsty expression and backed away, hands lifted. "Whoa, hey, man, chill. Seriously."

"I am chill," Dick snapped, glaring at him. He turned back to Jason, who was clearly trying to appear cool and intimidating, and pointed an accusing finger. "You have so much to explain. But right now Alfred wants you all down for dinner."

Then he left the trio without a word.

A bit after dinner, Dick finally found Jason alone in the library, reading some book titled 'Jane Eyre'.

"Jason." Dick walked towards him, expression a forced calm. "I am... sorry about how I reacted earlier."

Jason looked up from his book, an eyebrow raised. "No, you're not."

"No, I'm not," Dick agreed, sitting beside his brother. "How could you not tell me?"

"I didn't tell the rest of the Bat-cult either. You're not special." Jason leaned back, carefully placing a bookmark in the book before putting it aside.

Dick took this as a sign that Jason wanted to talk. "Jaybird... I'm your big brother, you know I love you, right?"

Jason looked away, muttering something that sounded like a mix of "Fuck off" and "Yeah, I know."

"It's just... If you'd told me, yeah, I might have freaked out at first. But I just want you to be happy, in the end. And if you're happy with my exes..." Dick sighed. "I guess I'll just have to live with it."

Jason turned back to his brother, glaring slightly. "Stop calling them your exes. That's my girlfriend and boyfriend you're talking about."

Dick winced. "Yeah. Sorry, sorry, I just... Do you just have a thing for redheads? You had that schoolboy crush on Babs when you were, like, 13. You were dating Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. And now you're dating Roy and Kori."

Jason scoffed. "You're one to talk. You've dated Babs, Kori, Roy, Wally West... Do I really have to go on?"

Dick chuckled, laying an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Guess it runs in the family, huh?"

"We're adopted, asshole," Jason grumbled, but leaned into Dick's touch.

After a long beat of silence, Jason spoke up again. "I also dated Rose Wilson for a while. She is not a redhead."

An amused laugh escaped Dick, and he ruffled Jason's hair lovingly. "Yeah, yeah."

[globalrebrand]

I figured youre the best person to float this idea to: giving Vil a spa day and following up with a massage. Its nothing close to the finesse of a professional, but you can do something they cant. After rubbing his back and shoulders to ease some of his stress, he asks you to ride him. The past five hours youve been pampering him has got him feeling sleepy and affectionate. Maybe after you *slowly* get him off, no fast movements tonight, he would want to do some cockwarming. I imagine he would be very sweet and vulnerable, content to let you spoil him but also greedy for more. He will be clingy, pouting whenever you leave for something. And while he may want to be the one receiving praise tonight, he will absolutely return the favor another day

Warnings: fluff, not sfw, not proofread, fem-reader. (let me know if this needs to change!)

A/N: Vil is a hard dom, and you can't change my mind, so it might not be as soft as you wanted!

Private Massage: Vil x Fem!reader

When Vil built the massage room off of your master ensuite, you thought it was the height of excess. Of course, your husband worked tirelessly between acting, modeling, and managing his thriving beauty line, but an in-house room for massage? Frankly, you didn't understand why he couldn't just go to the spa. The chateau the two of you resided in was only thirty minutes from the city and some of the best spas in Twisted Wonderland.

But he insisted that it was a basic necessity of his routine care, so you didn't fight him on it. And in his defense, it got frequent use.

Every other Saturday, Vil's beloved masseuse, Helene, a well-muscled middle-aged woman with strong hands that were as soft as silk, massaged him for two hours. Never failing to relieve him of the week's stresses. It was an appointment as fastidiously kept as any date or arrangement he made with you.

For all the years she'd tended to him, you'd only known one occasion where she didn't meet the scheduled appointment, and that was when her beloved dog Gus needed to be rushed to the veterinarian after tearing his way into the gourmet chocolate gift basket Vil had sent her for her birthday.

But today makes the second occasion where the sacred appointment ritual has been broken.

And your husband wasn't taking it well.

Vil stood looking wistfully picturesque in his monogrammed quilted lilac silk robe as he stared longingly out of the french doors to the balcony of your master suite. A rather difficult task considering that snow had piled up outside nearly five feet overnight.

"Darling," you cooed, sneaking up behind him, the swishing sound of the silk of your matching (also monogrammed) robe rubbing against his startling from his gloomy reverie. Rising on your toes and placing a kiss and the sensitive patch of skin beneath his ear, you prepared to offer consolations.

"No one could make it in this blizzard, and to insist that Helene come would be barbaric."

"I know that." He snapped, to which you responded by drawing his face to yours to ensure he witnessed the reflexive and highly indignant raising of your eyebrows. Long ago, Vil learned that kind of curtness got him nowhere with you.

"I'm sorry, my love, it's just I was really looking forward to our appointment today. You know better than anyone how hard this past week has been on me."

It's true. Vil really had put himself through the gauntlet the past month. He just finished filming a slate of commercials and shooting print ads for a new line of designer sunglasses he was just hired to be the face of, on top of sitting through a host of meetings with potential investors for his cosmetic brand and even hosting the Fashion Awards in the capital of the Queendom or Roses just a few nights ago.

So after forcing himself through handfuls of business lunches, after parties, and after after parties. He was a ball of tension and exhaustion in reasonably dire need of a massage.

"Of course, I understand." You murmured into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him in an attempt to soothe his tension when the perfect solution dawned on you. Craning your neck to whisper in your husband's ear, you offered a solution.

"What if I gave you a massage instead?"

His rejection was immediate.

"That's thoughtful little one, but let's be honest. There's about a 90% chance you fuck up my back, so badly no masseuse will be able to work out the knots." Vil cooed as he moved from the window and out of your embrace, leaving you to pout by the windows alone. But you weren't deterred. Even if you weren't the best masseuse in the country, you had your own ways of making your husband relax.

"Oh, well, that's a shame…" You sighed, turning the take up the mantle by the windows your husband previously occupied.

"Darling, I wasn't trying to be insensitive, but Helene is a masseuse with 40 years of experience." Vil was clearly exasperated, annoyed by your pout since obviously you weren't qualified to work on his back. Whether you were his spouse or not didn't matter. It was just his pragmatism.

"I couldn't even change your mind if I did it in that new white lingerie set?" You spoke softly, coquettishly, offering him only a demure and questioning glance.

Your question, paired with your coy expression, quickly delivered the results you were after.

The change in his attitude was instantaneous. For the first time all afternoon, he perked up and turned away from the exit of your shared room.

"The sheer dotted set? With the ouvert panties?" He questioned as if to confirm you were both on the same page regarding the set in question.

"Mmhmm." You nodded nonchalantly.

"With the garters and lacy thigh highs?" He asked, his expression now entirely focused on you. "That's a silly question. After all-"

"What would be the point without them?" You both intoned in unison.

"It was my birthday set, and I just got it, so I was saving it for a special occasion, but what better occasion could there be than blessing my beloved husband with my first foray into massage."

He raised an eyebrow as if to wordlessly say, 'you're laying it on a bit thick, but from his anticipatory posture, you could tell he'd bought your little act.

"Hmm, fine, but I'll be giving critiques on your technique."

"You wouldn't be the man I married if you didn't." You chirped as you pulled the set out of the drawer and dashed into the bathroom to prepare, running past your husband with girlish glee.

A scant half an hour later and the mood was set. Aromatic candles were lit, lightly perfuming the space.

You dressed in the aforementioned set, with heels and light jewelry that wouldn't get in the way of your work. A pair of white gold hoop earrings and a dainty matching chain with a small V and amethyst on it.

You were watching some videos of proper full body massage techniques when the door to the room slid open, and in walked your husband, freshly showered with a towel loosely affixed around his hips. "Now, this sight is far more enchanting than my normal appointment," Vil remarked, seeing your ass in the scandalous panties. Your lush curves were put on display for him as you leaned over the cupboard while you watched videos on your phone.

"Helene would be crushed to hear you say that." You teased, still transfixed on the videos before you.

"That set makes your ass look fantastic," Vil added, placing a hand on the exposed fat of your rear.

You swatted his hand away. Not wanting him to spoil the session by completely forgoing the massage.

That's not why we're here, you remind him. Turning around and plucking the headphones from your ears, you put your phone away so you can focus on the task at hand.

You pressed on your husband's shoulders, gently urging him onto the massage table.

"I'm not here to rile you. I'm here to relax you." You reminded him. "Well, if you think you can. Do your best, my love." That was generally the closest to encouragement that Vil came, but you knew better than to take him at his word. He was obviously excited if the bulge of his half-hard cock beneath his towel was any indicator.

"Don't worry, I will. The channel drmasseur on spelltube taught me everything I need to know."

"On second thought-"

"Shhh..stop! Lay down. Don't be mean. I was only teasing." You chided. "On your front."

Begrudgingly, your husband obeyed.

Warming the basil and lemongrass lotion in your hands, you started with long strokes from his ankle to his knees, testing the amount of pressure.

"You can go a bit harder, my love."

Wordlessly you obeyed, applying more pressure again his long sinews and working into a comfortable rhythm. It wasn't as difficult as you thought it would be. After all, you were likely tied with his masseuse in knowledge of all of his sensitive areas, though your knowledge was of a much more explicit nature. After spending ample on his calf, you moved to do the same motion on his thigh, eliciting a groan as you pressed your thumbs into the back of his muscles.

"You're not as bad as I would've thought," Vil noted and slightly impressed air to his voice. He was quick to add-

"Nowhere near as good as Helene, might I add, but this has been pleasurable."

"And I do so seek to please you, husband." You whispered sultrily.

Vil hummed contentedly at your words and fell back into silence.

The better part of an hour passed, and you moved on from his legs to his arms, diligently repeating the same strokes as you did on his legs before and finally reaching his shoulders and back.

You were pleased with how well this little experiment was going. Vil seemed reasonably relaxed.

He threw out a critique here and there, but for the most part, he seemed content with your work.

Climbing on the table, you straddled his pert and bare upturned ass to get better leverage as you worked on his back.

"I know drmasseur didn't instruct you to do this."

"Perhaps not in his normal videos, but I was watching one to teach the art of erotic massage." You whispered in his ear before pressing a dramatic kiss to his temple.

Settling your weight fully on his rear, you both gasped as the wetness that had seeped through the opening of your panties made itself apparent through the skin-to-skin contact.

Your husband groaned but otherwise said nothing.

You quickly got into a deliberate routine, working on his lower back and subtly grinding against him with each fluid stroke of your hands in an attempt to soothe a bit of your own arousal. It shouldn't have come as a surprise just how quickly grinding your clit against your husband's skin.

But midway through your work, your husband stopped you.

"It's time for you to work on my front."

“But I haven't even gotten to-.”

He tapped your thigh to urge you off of him and then turned on his back, revealing the massive erection he was sporting.

Before you could even speak, he lifted a finger to silence you.

"I presume you know what you need to do."

"Of course, my love." You cooed, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. But Vil was apparently much more desperate than he let on as he was quick to rake his fingers through your hair to deepen the kiss. His tongue sensuously probing for yours. He releases you, panting slightly, and quickly offers his following command.

"Get to work."

Wait- He stops you before you can climb atop the massage table.

He brings a hand to your sex, testing your wetness with lithe fingers.

"Sevens, you're so shameless. You're more than wet enough to take me." He remarks, a certain pride to his words.

"How could I not when my husband is so beautiful." You always give Vil the validation he wants. The way it makes him preen and stand even straighter never fails to put a smile on your face.

Vil offers a hand to help stabilize you as you straddle him, your knees pressing into the soft leather of the table's surface.

You waste no time lining yourself up and sinking down on his cock in a practiced motion. The both of you moan in harmony at the sensation despite having felt it hundreds (if not thousands of times before).

Your walls seize around his length instinctively as they flutter in an ever-desperate attempt to accommodate his girth.

"You're so beautiful, Vil." coos, affectionately stroking your cheek. You close your eyes, relishing in the softness of his touch. Your sessions with Vil were only on occasion this tender.

"I hate it when people ask you how you got so lucky. Those fools don't realize just how lucky I am to have you." Vil is addressing you with his sweet words, but you are far too lost in taking him to the base of his shaft with every cant of your hips. His cock was deliciously curved towards the most sensitive parts inside of you, and you always to your time when riding him.

"My precious little wife takes such good care of me." He smiles teasingly. His finger came up to toy with a nipple concealed by the mesh of the lingerie.

"Are you paying attention to me?? He begins to scold. Clearly, you looked a little too lost in your own pleasure and not nearly admiring enough of the praises he lavished on you.

"Of course, I agree, Vil. You are lucky to have me." You open your eyes just to catch his feigned, annoyed expression.

"Come here." He demands but doesn't actually wait for your compliance.

Vil pulls the sheer cups of your lingerie under your breasts to expose your pert nipples and tugs you forward by the band, quickly taking one hardened bud between his lips and sucking tenderly as you rock back against him.

His other hand snakes down your spine before settling between your cheeks to press against your ass. You hiss at the strangely pleasurable sensation. The gesture is a small hint of Vil's sadism peaking through a more tame lovemaking session.

And as much as it turned you on, the relative taboo of the touch always sent you hurdling to orgasm in a matter of seconds.

Tentatively you tried to rise up and shoo away his hand, not wanting things to end too soon, but Vil wasn't having it. Unlatching from where he nibbled and teased your breasts, he grabbed your hair and pulled you in for a steamy kiss, but still, you turned, only allowing his lips to brush your cheek.

"No, I don't want to come too fast," you whined, slowing your motions and trying to evade your husband's persistent fingers.

"My foolish love," he simpered, his soft expression and tone encouraging you to drop your defenses and lean into his embrace. "even when you're on top of me, I call the shots." He whispered into your ear.

"Now, grind your tight little ass against my fingers while you ride my cock, understood?"

"I wanted to come at the same time." You pouted, looking into his hazy purple eyes.

"Keep riding me like that, and we will, don't worry, little one. Even I have to admit you're too tempting for your own good." You realized early in your relationship that for someone like Vil, being in control and curating his experience was cathartic. He seldom wanted anyone else calling the shot. The uncertainty made him anxious.

With his compliment, you found a small burst of motivation. Soon you got lost in the sensation of his wet fingers tracing circles on your puckered hole as you clenched against his shaft. And you realized if you bucked your hips just so your clit scraped against his toned abdomen.

Once you felt yourself hurdling off the cliff to your orgasm, you pressed as deep against your husband, feeling his tip threatening to breech your womb. Vil threw his head back as he let out a heady moan, and you, quite satisfied with your work, collapsed on top of him once your walls finally calmed, your sex feeling numb and well pleasured.

If not to relieve him of the burden of your sweat body, then to clean your both. You could feel his cum threatening to leak from your pussy, but when you moved to get off him, Vil held you firmly in place by your thighs.

"No, my love, keep me warm." He begged softly. You were never one to deny him, so with a sigh, you nestled back on top of him, tucking your head under his chin.

You two stayed silent for a good while when suddenly, a cheeky idea struck you.

"While I have you here," you began, your voice lifting Vil from his contented quiet. "Would you mind filling out a short survey about my performance today? The feedback really helps."

Fine." Vil acquiesces, opting in to play your little game.

"Rate the massage on a scale of poor to exceptional."

"It was adequate."

"Ok, rude. What could have improved your experience."

"The masseuse could have been less of a cocktease."

You tap his shoulder in chastisement. "One, you loved it, and two, that was the point."

"Oh, alright, the masseuse's lack of experience was apparent. But she more than made up for her lack of massage skill in other areas."

"Anyway, next question. Rate the sex on a scale of poor to exceptional."

"Absolutely incandescently perfect," Vil whispered as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck.

"Thank you for your feedback." You replied, turning to plant a chaste kiss on his brow.

"And final question,"

"It better be." Vil sighed in exasperation.

"Would you recommend this service to friends and family?"

Vil immediately bristled, shooting up to a sitting position, causing you to let out a quiet hiss as he moved inside you, but he seemed less bothered and more intent on addressing your question.

"Absolutely not! First of all, gross. Second of all, you're all mine."

"I know, I know, I'm just teasing. I never get tired of hearing you say it."

"Now say it back." He demanded petulantly.

"I'm all yours Vil Schoenheit."

"Good, I wouldn't have it any other way."

[hazz-a-bear]

AS LONG AS I'M WITH YOU, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ maybe you should have given Jun a little more time to prepare himself to meet your parents.

.ᐟ fluff. established relationship. jun is a ball of anxiety. so many pet names. mention of emotional distress/anxiety. mention of reader bringing home a girl. very brief mention of homophobia ( only if you squint )

a/n: my first work to be posted on tumblr! I hope everyone likes this, don't hesitate to give me feedback

"So you're one hundred per cent sure that what I got is enough? I feel like it's not. Oh yn, you could've let me get the tea set too!"

Jun whines from the passenger seat for the hundredth time. His mouth has been working overtime since the two had gotten in the car - questions, complaints and fusses leaving his mouth nonstop through the entire ride.

Approximately two weeks ago, on a random Tuesday night, you had casually thrown a question at Jun over dinner. "Mom called today. She wanted to have dinner since I hadn't visited them in a while. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? They can finally meet you, Jun"

The simple question that came out of your somehow resulted in Jun choking on his next bite of rice.

If you'd thought Jun was overdramatic before (affectionately), you had definitely underestimated to what extent he would go after you had invited him to meet your parents.

The last two weeks had been hectic for Jun. As soon as he processed the invitation, he immediately made it his mission to get something - a first impression gift, he said - for your parents. When you firmly told him that he doesn't need to get anything, he looked at you like you just told him the Great Wall isn't in China. "Do you want your parents to hate me, yn? He had scoffed. "You weren't expecting me to just show up without anything, right? That's literally the easiest way to look bad in front of any parent"

Since then, Jun had been lurking on every single online website - hunting for household items with a concerningly deep determined look in his eyes. On Friday, he dragged you to a home appliance store nearby, immediately demanding your honest and brutal opinions on the porcelain tea sets on display. And that's when you admitted that maybe Junhui was a little more insane than you thought he was.

Surprisingly, you managed to convince Junhui to only stick to a couple of scented candles, incense sticks and coasters in the end. But it still didn't stop him from whining about how he still could've made a better impression with one of the tea sets he had been eyeing.

"Jun, sweetheart" You sigh, eyes set on the road ahead of you "There was no way I was gonna let you buy a whole ass tea set. Mom has plenty of sets at home, she doesn't need another one"

"Yn, I love you, but, the tea set isn't meant to be given as a function. I don't expect her to put it to use. It's more of a symbol of appreciation"

Damn your boyfriend and his ability to speak complete nonsense and somehow make it sound reasonable. "A symbol of appreciation? For what?"

"For letting me have their daughter, yn, obviously!" From the corner of your eye, you can see the way his arms are flailing around as he tries to argue with you. It's amusing, really - the way this got him all worked up and sweating like he's at dance practice.

"Respectfully, Jun, they didn't let you have me, you know?" You smirked, a teasing lilt to your voice. "They just didn't know and when they finally did, it was already too late. You were way too deep in love with me"

"You're right" Jun surprisingly agrees with you, making you look towards him with slightly raised eyebrows. Usually, he would have picked a fight. Arguing about how you're the one who fell first and the biggest simp in your relationship. So when he actually agrees with you without snapping back with a witty remark, you realize that his mind is preoccupied with the nervousness of the dinner with your parents more than you had realized.

"Jun?" You call softly to get his attention and wait till he replies with a hum. "Are you okay, love?"

Jun is silent in his seat. You take a quick glance at him to see him looking out the window, lips pulled under his teeth while he seems to be deep in thought. His hands are resting on his lap, fingers wringing each other in an attempt you recognize as him trying to calm himself down. Your eyebrows furrow in concern at the sight of Jun twitching in his seat, clearly anxious about this whole ordeal.

Looking in the rear mirror to see if you can slow down, you reach out to him with one of your hands - the other holding the steering wheel tighter. Jun almost jumps when he feels your cold hand settle on his before he laces his fingers with yours, his hold tight.

"Sorry," His voice is quiet, almost apologetic. "I'm just- I'm fidgety, cause, I'm nervous"

"Don't be sorry, baby, no" You assure him with a squeeze of his clammy hands. "It's okay if you're nervous, it's completely fine. Remember when you took me to meet your mom and dad? I was almost crying by the time we got there"

"Yeah, I remember" He sighs. "But I just- just can't help it, you know? What if they don't like me, yn? What if they think I'm not good enough- all sorts of what ifs"

You understood what he said, you really did.

When Junhui asked if you wanted to meet his family two months into your relationship, you had been anxious to the same extent - if not more. What was different was Jun had asked you almost a month in advance, giving you enough time to freak the fuck out about it, let it process, come to terms with it and finally get ready. When you think about it now, it makes you feel bad realizing you had only given Jun approximately two weeks to prepare himself for this.

"Junnie, I'm sorry if this is so sudden," You say, making him turn to you on a whim. "Fuck, I should've given you more time to get ready. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to get anxious, Jun"

"No, no, yn. It's not your fault, baby" Jun is quick to reach over the console, a clammy hand coming up to press under her chin in an attempt of reassurance. "It was sudden, true but this was going to happen sooner or later, no? Meeting your parents? I'm just the normal amount of nervous, okay? Don't worry baby, you didn't do anything"

As if to emphasize his words, Jun brings your laced hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm and another one to your wrist. You relax a little into your seat, his words starting to make sense in your mind.

Soon, you're putting out the right turn signal before making a turn off the main road. You can feel Jun's hand tense around yours a bit more and you give him another squeeze of assurance. He watches out his window as you drive along the road that leads to your house. All the houses in the neighbourhood are gates, screaming sophistication at any guest that passes by. You know that compared to other neighbourhoods, yours is considered to be a bit more upper-class and rich. And Junhui is definitely enamoured by it.

"Yn, you actually grew up in a fancy neighbourhood" His mouth is almost hung open. "All of the houses have gates!"

You laugh at the excitement that takes over his features, the anxiety seemingly slipping away from him in the process. You can't help but take occasional glances at him as you continue to drive up ahead. It's only when you turn towards a clearing that with an already opened gate, he suddenly tenses again.

"Oh god," You can hear him mumble under his breath, both of his hands now coming to hold on to yours that rest on his lap. The gate opens to a paved driveway, large trees carefully sitting on both sides. You slowly pull inside and at the end of the long driveway, the house you once called home stands proudly.

The closer you get to the house, the fidgety Junhui gets. His knee is bouncing up and down in clear distress so you hold on to him a little tighter, reminding him that you're right there. He waits as you drive to the side of the house, stopping the car next to the garage which holds your dad's cars. You can almost feel the anxiety that bounces off of Junhui, circulating the car like a scent and it makes you sad, knowing he's this nervous about meeting your parents.

As soon as your hand leaves the steering wheel and pulls on the parking gear, Junhui is almost scrambling to your side of the car over the console and immediately hiding his face in your shoulder.

"I'm so scared" He's mumbling into your your skin once his face is pushed against your neck, shaky breath fanning over you warmly.

You bring up your other arm which isn't clutching Jun's to put around him before pulling his body towards you. It's a weird angle considering how he's almost leaning his entire upper body over the console of the car but neither of you could care less about the way the gear is pressing into his tummy in a way that is not comfortable. What matters right now is the fact that you're there to hold him while he freaks out about what will happen once he gets out of the car.

He sighs again, relaxing a little in your hold as you press your lips to his temple. "What if...what if they don't like me, yn? What do I-"

His words are unceremoniously cut off when you pull away by a little, only to press your lips against his in a quick manner. He shuts up then, closing his eyes and deepening the kiss, trying to drink in your entire being if you're offering. It's evident in the way he unconsciously tries to chase your lips with his when you go to pull away.

"Baby, no" You assure him in a hushed whisper, forehead resting against his temple. "They're not gonna hate you, I promise. They won't, darling"

The look on Jun's face remains the same, unconvinced and doubtful even though you put up the most certain voice you're able to. There's a slight crease in his eyebrows and the way his eyes fail to focus on yours says enough though - he's terrified.

"Baby" You croons, freeing your other hand from his before bringing them both up to his face.

Jun's cheeks are cold under your fingers, probably a result of the blasting AC in the car. Your hands must be cold as well if the way he flinches when they rest on his skin says something. Yet, his eyes slightly droop on the contact, almost leaning into the touch with a small smile that paints across his lips. It makes you smile too, the way he's so willing to lean into the warmth ( or the icy cold feel ) of your hands.

"They'll be nice, baby, I promise. Don't you think they'll at least try to be nice to the first boy I've ever brought home, hm? It's a new milestone"

His cheeks are immediately flushing at your words - the knowledge of him being the first to meet the parents settling something warm and fuzzy in his stomach. You smile to yourself as you see the mischievous little smile that stretches across his face.

"How do I trust you, huh?" He says with a slyness to her voice, looking up at you from the gaps in his lashes.

"Trust me about what?" You play along while your fingers brush away locks of brown stray hairs that fall across his forehead.

"When you say I'm the first boy to meet your family?" His usual playful smile is now etched into his face, making him look young and boyish. Now that he doesn't seem to be as worried as he was before, you realize he's up to no good. Jun is skilled in knowing just how to pull the strings and make you the right amount of annoyance at any given time. "Does that mean you've brought girls home, hm? What if you're just saying it to make me feel better?"

"Oh, jun, baby. If I had brought girls home, I would've gotten kicked out a long time ago, don't you think?" You chuckle despite the heaviness of the words that come out of your mouth. Jun smiles too, seeming to agree with you. "And trust me, you'd know why I haven't brought anyone home all this time once you meet them, okay?"

And just like that, Jun's face is crumping again in your hold before he's whining in a high voice while leaning away from you. "Yn, why would you say that? That sounds even scary"

You chuckle while Jun fake cries in his seat, suddenly ranting about how he would not hesitate to break down in actual tears if your family intimidates him enough. While he goes on and on about the miserable state he's in, you reach behind you and grab the bag of 'first impression gifts' Jun had brought.

When you got in the car earlier, you had jokingly pointed out how he's only doing this to suck up to your parents and kiss their ass. And Jun being dramatic as he is had dismissed you with a sassy flick of his wrist saying 'Yn, it's not kissing ass to bring something as a visitor. It's basic human decency. It's an unwritten rule of Asian households. You should know that!'

As soon as you grab the bag from the backseat, Jun is shuffling to take it from you, sticking his hand inside and mentally checking out a list of the things he's gotten to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything.

As you wait for Jun to finish, you turn off the car, pocketing your keys and wallet. Jun has finished his counting when you turn back towards him. He's leaning against the door on his side, bag resting on his lap and hands once again nervously twitching on top of it.

The look in his eyes is fond as he looks your way, but it doesn't take a genius to understand that it's only masking a lot of nervousness and unease behind them. His lower lip is caught between his teeth as he rapidly chews on it, purely out of habit. So you reach before carefully thumbing under his lips, trying to get him to stop.

"Take your time, Jun. There's no rush. We have all the time. Let me know when you're ready"

Junhui had always been naturally fidgety when it came to approaching new people and being introduced to new conditions. And even more so if it's related to your past that he hadn't been present in. Jun tends to care a lot about first impressions - always fussing over his appearance, his behaviour and his attention to detail. As much of an extrovert as he is, it's always quite hard for him to take the first step towards instant socializing.

In disparity, you're the one who's capable of grounding him whenever it happens. Even though he's freaking out of his mind, as long as he's able to feel the familiar sense of your fingers lacing his, nudging the right amount of pressure against his skin, he's good to go. So even now, as he's trying to regulate his breathing and try not to scream in dread, the feeling of your lips pressing into his cheek in the form of security, assurance and a promise - it's enough to hold him from falling apart.