#HE wouldn’t be able to be someones daddy he got too much daddy issues himself

[plistommy]

When people call Steve ’Daddy’ I look behind Steve’s shoulder because who are they referring to? Because it sure as hell isn’t big puppy doe eyed gorgeous face sweet golden retriever boy called Steve Harrington!

[domain-expand-me]

I've been going bonkers over Megumi x DILF!Reader because I know that boy has some serious daddy issues, having the reader being completely oblivious and doing things that definitely get the boy hot and nervous is MY SHIT.

I would love to see you expand on your writing about DILF/MILF reader with Megumi a bit more

Imagine

Megumi Fushiguro with a DILF!reader

Aged up characters, reader is in theirs 40s, cuz when i say dilf i mean it.

Imagine being the stereotypical dilf. Body broad and covered in a layer of fat, laying on top of strong muscles that comes from many years of physical labor. After moving into the house near the sorcerer campus, maybe after you got divorced, you somehow end up attracting the different sorcerers in the area.

But most of all, Megumi sticks around the most. You don’t truly notice at first, too busy digging around under the hood of whatever junker car you spend your time on, or banging around in your garage or shed like the most stereotypical dilf. But you start seeing him more and more, and at some point, you just start telling him to hand you different tools or help you out with your yard.

The first time you pat him on the back and praise him for helping, he goes bright red and immediately feels how hard he gets. Being oblivious and just thinking hes sticking around to be nice, you just ruffle his hair and move on, unaware of the way Megumi feels like his knees were about to buckle.

The other members from the campus notice pretty quickly where Megumi runs off to each day. Well, maybe not Yuji, but the others figure it out quicker than Megumi wants. Him returning with oil stains and wearing one of your ancient band t-shirts doesn’t help his case though.

Imagine Megumi realizing he has a huge daddy kink because of you. You jokingly say something like “who’s your daddy” after doing some kind of difficult task, and Megumi almost drops the toolbox he’s holding, blood rushing to both his heads, and he has to use the toolbox to cover the throbbing bulge in his pants.

Imagine Megumi coming to you for “dating advice”, since he wouldn’t be able to find it in himself to just make a move on you. Instead, he gets your dating history, and all the moves you pulled to get your ex. When he learns you are also into men, he almost has a heart attack. Maybe you’ve been drinking, having also offered Megumi some, since who are you to stop, and as you a slightly tipsy, you end up describing the best way to go down on someone in bed, and how to make a partner stay just from rocking their world on the regular.

Megumi ends up laying in bed later that night, teary eyed and huffing the shirt you let him borrow that day, his other hand tugging at his aching hard shaft, his entire body shaking and jolting from overstimulation as he made himself come over and over just thinking about you.

Imagine Megumi buying his first personal toy because of you. One day when you are laying by your pool, a pool you built yourself with Megumi’s help, naked as you assume you are alone, and you are too old to feel ashamed of your body. He gets a nice view of your cock, and even though its soft, he stumbles over his feet to hurry back to campus to take care of his very aching problem.

He spends a couple of lust fueled hours finding the perfect shape and size, getting a toy that has your skin tone. The next morning what one might call late post-orgasm clarity hits him. But when Megumi gets the package, he still squirrels it away, ashamed to use it. That is, until you just wind the poor boy up too much, walking around shirtless and sweaty, baseball cap on your head and shorts from your college days.

Imagine Megumi fingers deep in himself as he tries his damnest to suck down the entire length of the toy, tears gathering in his eyes as his gag reflex struggles against the silicone being forced down his throat.

Imagine Megumi clutching the sweaty shirt you had been wearing that day to his nose as he bounces on the toy, his own hard cock bouncing with his movements as he whines and whimpers, licking and sucking at the shirt that tastes and smells just like your sweaty manly musk.

Imagine how lightheaded he gets when he comes, having to choke down the noises he makes so as to not let everyone on campus know what he’s doing. Afterwards Megumi flops down on the bed, his entire frame shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants into the sheets. His shaft gives another twitch when he takes another inhale of your shirt, the spikey haired sorcerer pushing himself up again, sinking down on the toy once more even as his insides throb from sensitivity.

Megumi would be too nervous and flushed around you to make a move on his own, at least when you are sober. But if you happen to be a little more than tipsy one day, sitting on your couch, trying to find something worth to watch on the tv, he might find the bravery and balls to crawl into your lap. If you ask about it the next day, he can just act like it was something your mind made up, right? So for now, he could indulge himself, grinding against you like a pup in heat, panting into your neck as your strong large hands grope at his hips and ass, your deep voice rumbling praise in his ear.

[wellthebardsdead]

That is true, I think he definitely put in a lot of work proving himself to be useful for Mephistopheles to keep him around and favoured because he’s not his first spawn and he certainly isn’t going to be his last. And with a title like lord of no mercy Raphael would have had to have proven to be very useful indeed to get away with a hissy fit like he had over the crown.

Sending Haarlep was also an eyebrow raiser, an incubus of all things, but it makes sense if you think about it. It’s very difficult to resist him and it’s evident by Haarlep having his form that he got his claws into Raphael at least once or twice, though to squeeze out his deepest desires and his youthful appearance. Mephistopheles wanted someone in Raphael’s way that was hard to resist, and could work their way under his skin and into his mind to 1, keep him distracted, and 2, get information out of him. They’re very obviously a spy after all sent to keep his ‘naughty son’ in line. Raphael most likely hasn’t gotten rid of him because he’d respawn in Mephistar where he’d be able to tell Mephistopheles everything, so it’s likely he’s tried to limit his contact with Haarlep as best he can and simply tolerates him and treats him as a toy, hence the terrible lover line but also he does radiate big pillow princess energy lol.

Given he’s also Half mortal, Haarlep would indulge in aspects of Raphael’s being full devils simply don’t have. A need for intimacy beyond sins of the flesh, and narcissistic as he is, he craves that just as much as anyone else, if not more. He wants to be wanted as much as he wants to be feared.

And larian has put an emphasis on who his father is too. The man’s got daddy issues big time. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mephistopheles gave him the house of hope along with the servants. Because I know for a fact those lesser cambions and infernal debtors would kneel to him over his son in a heartbeat if the situation arose lol

Okay- so I hate the anti aging/wrinkle removing mods, like all of them. But.

Jesus Christ I’m grateful for this one. Don’t get me wrong I love my handsome devil as he is~ but he was CUTE!

Then my dm pointed out something important-

A cambion of Raphael’s heritage and status, is effectively immortal and ageless. He’d mature to a certain point and simply stop. He can alter his appearance absolutely, his fathers done so plenty of times and it’s no doubt a talent Raphael possesses too.

But. My dm pointed out Haarleps stark age difference between his appearance and Raphael… Either he got Haarlep sometime ago and refuses to let him use his current form. Or-

That’s what he actually looks like in his cambion form. Meaning- This is what he may very well actually look like in a completely relaxed state.

Meaning.

He makes himself look more mature to be taken seriously.

And honestly I hope that’s true because it’s fucking hilarious.

Remember Haarlep can make himself an exact copy of whoever’s body he’s got a hold of. So either he’s deliberately making himself appear as a younger Raphael or- that’s what Raphael truely looks like and Haarlep wrung it out of him beneath the sheets.

Either way he looks cute as a 20 something year old and cute as he is in game~ my poor little meow meow.

[noteguk]

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked. 

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated. 

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 

“How’s that possible?” he asked. 

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 

But you also kind of didn’t care. 

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?” 

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

[edwardskhakipants]

Forks, Washington. August 2004.

Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.

“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”

“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”

Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.

“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.

Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.

“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”

Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.

Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”

A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.  

Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.  

Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.

Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.

“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.

“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”

“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.

“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”

Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”

“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.

Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”

Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”

Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.

“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”

“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”

Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”

Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”

Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”

Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”

Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”

“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”

“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.

“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”

Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”

“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”

All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”

“Exactly.” Esme nodded.

“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”

“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”

Alice scoffed, “Is not!”

“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”

“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.  

“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”

“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”

Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”

“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”

Edward rolled his eyes.

Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”

Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”

But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.

Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”

“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”

“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.

Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”

Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”

“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.

Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”

“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested.     Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.

“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.

“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.

Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”

“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.

“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.

Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”

“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.

Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”

Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”

Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”

“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”

“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”

“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”

“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”

Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”

Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.  

“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.

“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.

“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”

A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.

Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”

Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”

Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.

“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”

“But what if we—” Edward started.

“Understand?” Esme repeated.

The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to. 

“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.

The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.

“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats. 

Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo.  “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”

When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.

“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.

“Not a chance.”

[sweetyyhippyy]

Late Arrival. Spencer Reid x Reader.

(Not my gif)

Summary: Spencer is coming back home after an out of state case runs long. You fall asleep waiting for him, and when he finally does come home, he sees your outfit and there is no way he can’t wake you up for a proper homecoming.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

TW: Brief mentions of masturbation (male and female), sleepy sex?? (I don’t know how to refer to it), calling Spencer daddy (duh), fingering, reader trying to be dom and Spencer teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of praise kink.

Word Count: 3.2k

A.N: I saw @fics4arainyday​ put that she wanted someone to write this concept, so i did! I hope you like it! Also, I’m bad at ending fics so 😬... sorry! 

link for lingerie I refer to: x 

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

It had been 3 agonizingly slow weeks since your fiancé had been home.

Being engaged to an FBI profiler wasn’t always easy. The days, even weeks being apart, Spencer coming home at all hours of the night too exhausted to stay awake and spend time with you, missing birthdays, holidays, anniversaries being states away on those occasions.

But in all honesty, you still wouldn’t have it any other way.

Nobody else could make you laugh the way Spencer did. Nobody else could make you think the way Spencer did. Nobody could lovingly annoy the crap out of you the way Spencer did. And most importantly, nobody could fuck you the way Spencer did.

He has been gone for 3 weeks, but the week before he left, there wasn’t a lot of sexy time going on since you were busy with your own job. It was the occasional quickie before having to rush getting ready for work in the morning, a quick mutual masturbation session on a lazy weekend, but no real “wake the neighbors” fuck that you were so desperately craving. Keeping a healthy sex life was important to both of you.

So when you got the call from Spencer that the case was finally over and he would be coming home that same night, you knew it was go time.

You didn’t have much self control when it came to online shopping when Spencer was gone, what else were you supposed to do? The goldfish you two had as a pet wasn’t much company.

So you had treated yourself to a few new pairs of lingerie. Spencer was going to love all of them, but there was one in particular that you knew he was going to lose his mind over. It was baby blue see through with a floral pattern throughout the slip. It left very little to the imagination but that was your favorite part about it. Technically you were supposed to wear some sort of underwear but the slip looked better without it.

You took a hot deep shower and pampered yourself a few hours before you knew he was going to be home, that way you were nice and relaxed and ready for his arrival. You kept your hair simple since Spencer would be pulling at it all night. But you did put some makeup on just to enhance Spencer’s favorite part of your face, your eyes.

The mood of the room was set; the bed was perfectly made, the candle you had given Spencer for a “just because present” called “Bookstore” smelling like mahogany, leather, and coffee; lit on the bedside table. It was meant for him but you enjoyed it much more than him. All that was missing was Spencer.

You looked at the time on your phone, only 10 more minutes before Spencer was due home. You lay on your side of the bed, flipping through tv channels to find something to watch to occupy your time.

***

Spencer turns the key to turn the car off, he drops his hands from the steering wheel into his lap, letting out a deep sigh. He could have been home over 3 hours ago but the jet back home was having engine issues, so the team had to fly through a regular airport… which meant waiting for a flight.

The case wasn’t particularly a rough one emotionally, it was just long. Spencer missed you like crazy within the first few days of being away. Late night phone calls weren’t the same as physically being with you.

Spencer grabbed his satchel, leaving the rest of his baggage to lug up to the house until tomorrow when he had enough rest. As he’s walking up the driveway he can see the light on from the kitchen, signaling you were awake and waiting on him. He knew how much you hated waiting, so by now he knew you were seething with rage. There was about to be a lot of apologizing he was going to have to do. Spencer unlocks the front door, dropping his bag next to the front door and kicking his shoes off right next to it.

“Babe?” Spencer calls out, removing his jacket and hanging it up on the back of the couch. He listens for an answer, but all he hears is the slight murmur of the tv from your bedroom.

Spencer begins to unbutton his shirt as he walks down the hallway to the blue hue of the tv shadowing onto the floor. He steps into the room, spotting you curled up on top of the comforter fast asleep. Before he could appreciate how adorable you looked, softly snoring, he noticed the little outfit you were wearing. You laid there on your belly, one leg straight while the other bent up on the pillow next to you.

He scans your body through the see through fabric, spotting the lack of underwear on your lower half while your butt was fully exposed to him. You were practically a step away from being naked. He quietly walks over to the bed and touches the hem of the slip and carefully hikes it up your butt, not earning a reaction from you.

Spencer quickly sheds his shirt off and throwing it off to the corner of the room along with his dark slacks, kicking them off quickly. Spencer carefully climbs into the bed behind you, laying on his side and palming himself through his boxers to get himself hard, which really didn’t take much as his eyes rake over your body and his imagination runs wild about all the things he was about to do to you. He hisses as he strokes himself harshly, his cock growing harder every second.

Your body shifts next to him, a low grumble coming from your mouth as you shift in bed onto your side, your ass now completely facing him.

Spencer’s eyes widen seeing you move, he didn’t want to get caught stroking himself less than a few inches from where he wanted to be. He finally scoots closer to your body, resting his hands on your bare hip, your skin a little cold from the lack of bed sheet or clothing on you. He lines himself up with your entrance, slowly slipping in between your folds, not yet sliding in. He rubs the tip of his cock up and down you, finding you were already a bit wet.

Your whole body jumps a loud gasp filling the room which makes Spencer pull himself back. Your head turns quickly behind you to look at Spencer, a little glimmer of fear in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You whisper yell at him.

“I’m home. And I see you left a present for me.” He says, whispering in your ear. “Is this okay?” He asks, his hand moving down your thigh and lifting it slightly for easier access.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty annoyed you were so late. I’m kind of not in the mood anymore.” Your voice was laced with sarcasm as you cocked your eyebrow at Spencer.

He licks his lips, a smirk on his face appearing as he picks up on the little game you’re playing with him. “No? Well I think I have some apologizing to do.” Spencer says, moving the strap of your outfit out of his way, kissing up your shoulder and over to your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his soft lips pecking at your skin, a low hum coming from deep within your chest.

“You know I missed my girl so much while I was gone.” He says, his hand traveling up the underside of your outfit all the way up your stomach and up to your breasts, kneading one in his large hands as he spoke in your ear. “I missed waking up to you.” Kiss. “Seeing your beautiful face.” Kiss. “Hearing those sexy moans about how good daddy makes you feel when I’m touching you.” Kiss. “And how wet you get without me even trying.” Kiss.

You were putty in his hands, the game of trying to be tough was no longer working, and Spencer was fully aware of it.

His hand leaves your breast and goes back down to between your legs, his fingers running over your inner thighs, intentionally skipping over your core.

You whine as his fingers tickle you, scooting your body back against him. “Spence.” You pathetically whine, taking his hand and leading it to your throbbing middle. You keep your hand on top of his as you feel him play with your slit, feeling all the wetness that was seeping out of you.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks, kissing the spot below your ear.

“Please, baby?” You beg, turning your torso enough to look at him, pouting your bottom lip out ever so slightly.

His fingers part your lips, finding your bud immediately and slowly drawing lazy circles around it. Your body reacts immediately, relaxing against his body as he massages you. Your hand moves back to tangle in his hair, pushing his head closer to yours, your lips meeting for the first time in 3 weeks. His fingers continue to work their magic, as you two heavily make out with one another; his tongue slipping into your mouth and yours into his.

Your body quivers as Spencer drops his fingers down to the pool of wetness between your legs, two of his fingers slipping inside.

You pull back from the kiss, gasping loudly. “Fuck.” Your eyes flicker to his face, your mouth agape.

“It amazes me how tight you are. I’ve been with you for almost 6 years and it’s always so amazing.”

You moan in response, not being able to form words at the moment.

The room is filled with the sounds of the wetness Spencer is drawing out of you and your breathy moans. Your high was coming quicker than anticipated, Spencer could feel it in your body and could see it in your face.

You cling onto his forearm, keeping him in place. Spencer liked to play games like denying you of your orgasms, but you weren’t going to let him this time. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you fought to keep them open but you were far too overstimulated at this point. The knot came undone as you clenched around his fingers, a string of curse words and desperate moans fall from your mouth as you ride your high out.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Spencer coos, still slowly drawing what you have left out as you try to regain your breath. He kisses your cheek and moves his fingers out of you carefully. “Do you want to taste?” He questions.

You roll over onto your back, nodding your head and grabbing his hand, bringing it up to your lips, and letting him slip his middle and ring finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking on them harshly.

Spencer looks at you in admiration as you look up at him with innocence in your eyes. “I love that I’m the only person that knows how much of a dirty girl you are.”

You open your mouth to let his fingers free, smiling at him. “And I like that I can be your dirty girl.” You say, wrapping your fingers in his curls and bringing his head down to kiss him. “Come here, I want to give you your welcome home celebration.” You say, moving him off of you.

“Normally I’m all for that, but I need to be in you. I’m not going to last long if you use your mouth.”

You sit up on the bed and get up onto your knees, pulling Spencer up to sit up too. You straddle his lap, cupping his face in your hands, rubbing both of your thumbs on his cheek, feeling a bit of stubble in his face. “You look tired, my love.”

Spencer smiles, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest. “Not too tired to finish.”

You laugh, kissing him softly. “No? You can go all night? Multiple times?” You teasingly question.

“We can test that theory tomorrow. But right now, we have 3 weeks worth of tension we need to work out.”

“Can I ride you?” You ask.

“Be my guest. I like the view.” He smirks, laying back down against the mattress, his hands gripping both of your thighs.

You get into position, holding his cock steady while you lower yourself down slowly.

Spencer rolls his head back on the pillow, grunting loudly as he feels your tightness around himself. His hands move up your thighs and under your outfit to your hips, gripping them tightly.

You rest your hands on his chest to keep balance, slowly starting to rock your hips against him. Your eyes stay glued to him, watching how his lips were parted and light moans were falling from him. “Do you like that?”

Spencer nods his head, his eyes focusing on your chest bouncing up and down in rhythm of your movements on him. He was trying to focus on anything else in the world to prevent himself from cumming too early.

“Tsk, tsk… words baby.” You tease, scratching his chest with your nails. “You never don’t know what to say.”

“It’s cute when you try to be the one in control.”

“I know I’m cute. You tell me quite often.” You retort with a wide grin.

Your comment earns a laugh from him, playfully rolling his eyes at you. Spencer begins to buck his hips up quickly, taking you by surprise. His fingers move the straps down your shoulders, helping you move your arms out of the straps as you continue to move on top of him. He moves the top half of your outfit down under your chest, his hands like magnets and begins massaging your breasts.

“Fuck, daddy,” You whimper, holding his forearms as he fucks into you. “That’s so good, you’re so good.”

Spencer sits up, letting you take control again. His thumb finds your clit, starting to rub it slowly, his soft brown eyes watching you melt into his touch.

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull, small whimpers leaving your mouth. You lean your body forward and nuzzle your head into Spencer’s neck. You start to kiss his pale skin, raking your teeth against it.

“Mmm, fuck.” Spencer moans out, applying more pressure to your clit as he feels a small pinch on his neck. “You going to cum for me again, pretty girl?”

“Not yet.” You whine in his ear.

“I’m going to move you. I want to fuck you.” Spencer says, moving your body off of his, earning a whine from you as his cock leaves you. “Bend over for daddy.” He says, helping you lay flat on the mattress while your butt is in the air, facing him. “Mmm, you’re so pretty, my girl.” He says in a low voice, both of his hands kneading your ass.

You whine pathetically, pressing yourself against him. “Daddy, please.”

Spencer smiles, grabbing his cock and slowly sliding back inside you. “It’s cute when you try to take control, but even cuter when you’re a whiny mess.” His hand grips the back of your outfit to hold onto as he fucks you from behind. This was his absolute favorite way to have you because of how hard he could slam into you, but the reaction you gave was even better.

Your hand finds his wrist and holds onto it as he  thrusts into your dripping pussy. He could feel how you were coating his cock every time he drew himself back out of you. “I love your cock.” You mutter out.

“This is your cock, baby. You take it so fucking well.” He grunts out, now struggling to keep from exploding. Anytime you fully submitted to him, he was done for.

You had such a strong personality outside of the bedroom that most people wouldn’t believe you were submissive 9 times out of 10.

“Am I your good girl for taking you so well?” You question, looking behind you to look at Spencer with innocent eyes.

His heart and cock fluttered at both your question and your eyes, you always played the innocent card so well. He grabs all of your hair in his hand and gently pulls it back toward him, making you whimper again. “You’re always a good girl for me, my love.” He responds. “Such. A. Good. Girl.” He thrusts into you harshly with each word.

You start to rub your own clit, bringing your second orgasm to the surface for the second time tonight. “You’re going to make me-fuck-me cum. Don’t stop, please don’t stop, daddy.” You were gasping as you spoke, desperate for your release.

“Cum for me, let go my girl.” Spencer says, taking over for your fingers to help bring you to your height. He rubs you quickly, trying not to lose it before you.

Finally you feel your walls clench around his cock, both of you moaning loudly. You moan Spencer’s name along with multiple curse words as he continues to rutt into your sensitive hole.

Spencer pulls out quickly, rubbing himself as he feels his own climax coming to a head.

“No, come back. Put it back in me, please.” You whine, reaching behind you to find Spencer’s cock and lead it back into you.

“You want me to cum in you? You want it inside you?” Spencer groans, seconds away from losing it.

“Please. Cum in me, Spence.” You beg, meeting his thrusts.

Spencer thrusts one last time before he spills himself inside of you, his grip on your hips squeezing as you slowly stop throwing your hips back against him. “Fuck, you’re so good.” He whispers, his eyes shutting as he feels the tip of his cock tingle.

Both of you stay in place as you try to regain your composure. You can already feel your eyes flutter closed, heavy from being tired. Spencer finally pulls out of you, making you hiss and lay flat on the bed.

“Baby, come on, we gotta go clean you up.”

“No.” You whine, closing your eyes again.

“You need to use the bathroom and clean yourself up. We have this conversation every time you’re too tired to get up. Come here, I’ll help you.”

You poke your bottom lip out into a pout as you reluctantly get out of bed, holding Spencer’s hand as you walk into your bathroom together. He helps clean the mess inside you up with a wet towel before leaving you alone to use the toilet.

Once you’re all settled, you walk back into the bedroom, finding Spencer getting the bed ready for both of you to lay down. You wrap your arms around his waist and hug him from behind tightly. Spencer happily hums, reaching behind himself to touch your arm.

“I love you.” You say, giving him a squeeze.

“And I love you.” He says, pulling you around to give you a kiss on the lips. “Do you want to sleep?”

You nod your head, climbing into bed first and getting comfortable right away as you watch Spencer slide in next to you, laying on his side to face you.

You grin ear to ear, kissing his chin. “Hi baby.”

“Hi pretty girl. You good?” He questions, lightly touching your cheek. You lean into his touch and nod. “I’m perfect.”

Spencer brings you into his chest, his fingers rubbing small circles into your shoulder. “Yeah, you are perfect.”

[pleasantanathema]

Santa Daddy | Jean Kirstein x Reader

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Rating: Explicit 

Warnings: Daddy kink, dirty talk, thigh riding, mutual pining, friends to lovers (or, rather, idiots to lovers), lots of holiday fluff

Word Count: 6k

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift to @whats-her-quirk​ 🎄💕 June, thank you so much for being a wonderful friend; I was truly lucky and privileged to get you as my Elf for Secret Santa! I hope this fluffy (and dirty) little fic with our best boi Jean brings you some holiday cheer! 

           There were only a few things in the world that made you happier than watching Jean Kirstein smile. Like most of your friends, you’d met him through work, but there was always something so special, almost magical, about seeing his darling smile and hearing his boisterous laugh. And you rarely passed up on a chance to see delight spread across his handsome face, which is why you couldn’t say no when he asked you to join him on a get-a-away with your friends for the holidays.

           The inquiry came after you mentioned how you wouldn’t be able to make it home for the holidays due to a winter storm blowing in. It would be the second season in a row that the weather kept you from visiting home.

           You could still hear his voice in your head, “alone? For Christmas?”

           He’d then insisted you join him and his friends at Sasha’s family cabin. It was tradition for them, a gathering of misfits finding communion together out in the wilderness for a few days before the new year. You had taken trips with your friends before to amusement parks, festivals, even to the beach at Armin’s request, but something about being invited to an intimate setting to celebrate holiday traditions had you anxious.

           So, there you were, swaddled in blankets, listening to Eren bicker with Mikasa while Sasha and Connie bustled in the kitchen to make eggnog and treats. Armin had declined to join, citing that he’d seen too many horror movies about young adults alone in cabins to feel comfortable making the trip.

           And, true to form, Jean was running late. He was always late, his mind constantly moving a mile a minute unless he consigned himself to much needed rest and relaxation. Though, this time, you felt a little lonely while waiting for him on the couch, like there was a small part of you missing as you watched the snow fall outside.

           “So, none of you guys go home for the holidays?” You looked over toward the modest, plastic tree that Sasha had thrown down from her attic to bring a little holiday cheer to the living room, a few poorly wrapped presents and bags nestled under the branches.

           “Well,” Eren cleared his throat, “we are orphans.” He pulled at Mikasa’s scarf for emphasis.

           “Oh fuck, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

           “Don’t worry about, he just always brings it up to get sympathy gifts.” Mikasa sighed, jerking the red cloth from his hands and scowling. Eren only laughed, brushing a stray hair from his face that had come loose from the bun at his nape.

           You sunk a little deeper into the cushions, eyes glancing out the window in hopes you’d see headlights flash in the driveway.

           “Do you think Jean’s okay? He should’ve been here a while ago and the storm is getting closer.”

           “Jean, Jean, Jean,” Sasha trotted into the room, balancing a mountain of sweet-smelling cookies on a plate, “you’re always worried about him.”

           “Someone should be, guy’s an idiot.” Eren chimed in, green eyes shining from the low flames rolling in the fireplace. He and Mikasa were sitting in the floor, a game of checkers spread out before them, with more stolen pieces resting near the cunning Ackerman’s side of the board.

           Eren wasn’t wrong, but over the years you’d known your group of friends, you’d noticed just how much the man in question had grown. In his early twenties, Jean had been quite the bumbling fool, having literally met you by bumping into your shoulder while leaving work, only to look at you and mumble “god you’re beautiful,” before issuing a quick apology as he rubbed at his neck sheepishly. You’d never mentioned the moment again, though your stomach still churned with a slight thrill every time you thought about it.

           But over the years he’d managed to turn that puerility into something much more charming. He was more refined, almost infuriatingly suave, easily gaining attention from anyone and everyone. And though you sometimes hated to admit it, he’d captured your thoughts as well.

           You kept your budding crush on Jean Kirstein close to your chest, not admitting it to any of your close friends. You always figured he was out of your league, seeing that he had a new, more beautiful girlfriend just about every other month. But, despite your simmering feelings, you still allowed yourself to get closer and closer to him over the years—some might say he’s your best friend, but you might call him your most treasured vexation.

           Another hour or so went by, your time spent nibbling at cookies and reminiscing with everyone about another year passed.

           Then the door finally opened, cold air gusting into the small living room as Jean stomped his damp boots on the entry mat.

           “Have you guys opened presents yet?”

           You glanced over the back of the couch, heart tugging in your chest as you noticed snow dusted in his long hair and a sizeable red and white polka dot package in his hands.

           “No because Christmas is tomorrow, or did you forget that too?” Connie said it with crumbs in his mouth, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

           Jean laughed, running a hand through his hair before wrapping the gift in his arms like it was something valuable.

           “I know, I know, and sorry I’m late, had something important to go get.” He smiled, bright and cheery, hazel eyes bouncing between his friends and the carefully guarded box, “I ask because…uh, this needs to be opened kind of soon.”

           “Is it perishable?” Sasha perked up, already ready to go make room in the fridge if something delectable was waiting as a gift.

           “I mean…you could say that? It may or may not be alive.” He was laughing, that kind of infectious laughter that had everyone in the room grinning whether they wanted to or not.

           Jean didn’t set the present down to even take off his shoes, instead tracking snow in with him and plopping onto the couch with flurries still on shoulders. He nudged your knee with his, pushing the present toward you. You pressed your lips together, hands getting sweaty as you pieced the puzzle together.

           “Is that…?”

           “Yeah,” his grin was pulling at his cheeks, eyes so sincere and happy and it almost startled you, “it’s for you.”

           The top of the box moved, the green bow popping on top of the polka dots.

           You moved the gift into your lap, pulling off the top to find perky ears and green eyes peering up at you—a kitten, grey and striped, with long, white whiskers and a pink bow around its neck greeted you with muted curiosity. You just stared at it for a moment, and it stared back, like you were both wondering just how it got into your lap.

           “I just,” Jean was getting nervous, carding his fingers through his hair again as he waited for your reaction, “I wanted to make sure you’d never spend another holiday alone, you know?”

           You carefully picked up the little cat, watching how it stretched and yawned as you pulled it from the carefully lain blanket inside its temporary home.

           You smiled, pulling the warm little bundle to your chest.

           “Um, Jean, this cat has six toes on her paws,” you said, pressing your thumb gently against one of the extra appendages in question.

           “Six toes?!” Sasha was jumping up from her seat, bounding over to kneel in front of you and pluck one of the kitten’s paws into her fingers. The cat quickly pulled its paw back, little black toe beans curling to its chest.

           “Yeah, it’s what drew me to her. She’s extra special…” you could’ve sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, a little musing of “just like you,” but any hushed murmur was overshadowed by the ohs and ahs of your friends gathering around to look at the adorable little creature.

           The kitten had been lulled to sleep by the car ride from the shelter to the cabin, content to just curl up in your arms as inquisitive fingers prodded at her little kitten mittens and the silky, white tufts in her ears. Even Mikasa was enraptured by the tiny animal, taking the time to retie the little pink ribbon around her neck to make a bigger, prettier bow.

           You noticed how your friends were whispering, cheeky grins pressed against eager ears as they looked between you, the precious kitten, and Jean on the couch. You were starting to feel like you were missing something, or maybe that you were at the end of a joke you hadn’t caught on to yet.

           “Thank you,” you whispered to Jean after the fuss died down, everyone returning to their seats and back to their previous fixations.

          You’d mentioned perhaps wanting a cat a few weeks ago; it was just a silly, off-hand comment you made over coffee about how you’d once read that people with cats live longer because they pick up on the nine-lives of their feline partner. You didn’t believe it to be true, but you’d mused about the idea of having a cute kitten of your own to snuggle up with on lonely nights.

           “I know it’s sudden and a lot of responsibility, so if you don’t want her—”

           “No,” you cut Jean off, bundling the kitten a little closer in your arms, your heart singing as you felt her start to purr, “no, I want her, she’s perfect.”

           Jean finally started to get settled himself, standing up and shrugging off his jacket. He was in a tight turtleneck, coal black threads stretched to their limit across his broad chest and shoulders, hugging his trim waist. You were careful not to stare for too long as he stretched his arms above his head to shake off the weariness of his drive through the snow.

           He always looked like he stepped out of a fashion catalogue, fresh and so put together that sometimes you were tempted to snap his photo when he wasn’t looking; he just looked that good all the time. He loved to wear designer clothes and keep up with the latest menswear trends, and tonight was no different, that beautiful black turtleneck (that was covered in grey fur) undoubtedly belonging to a designer whose name you probably couldn’t pronounce.

           “What are you gonna name her?”

           He sat a little closer this time on the couch, a brawny arm outstretched behind you as he leaned over to scratch at the kitten’s chin.

           “I don’t know,” you admitted, gazing down at the serene, sleepy face in your arms, “I’ll have to get to know her first.”

           “Well, I’ve been calling her Frankie.”

           “Frankie?” You smiled through your confusion, the name sounding oddly right.

           “She was pretty wild in the car and kept meowing when Frank Sinatra was on the radio.”

           “I see,” you laid the kitten down into your lap, sweeping your fingers through her fur and watching as she curled up into a tighter little circle, “well, I’ll consider it.”

           You felt warm, heavy fingers brush against the back of your neck, Jean absentmindedly painting figure eights into your prickling skin. Heat flushed to your face as you realized just how close your bodies had become—his thigh was pressed against your own, dark jeans tight and hot, the scruff of his cheeks brushing against your own as he toyed with the sleeping cat’s tail.

           There were voices all around you, the muffled sounds of your friends relaxing together falling almost on deaf ears. Your whole world felt like it just revolved around this couch, like nothing else mattered beyond the simple touches to your skin and the drowsy kitten beneath your hands. He never wanted you to spend another holiday alone, you replayed his words, the sweet sentiment finally settling into your spirit.

_______________

           You could tell everyone was starting to get a bit sleepy, a few hours spent drinking spiked eggnog and chasing the new kitten around with a feather toy having left you especially exhausted. Your head was a little swimmy as you bid everyone goodnight, the grey tabby cat following closely on your heels to your bedroom where Jean had already brought in a litter box and a bed for her to sleep in. Jean, underneath all the designer bravado and smiles, was perhaps the most thoughtful person you knew.

           But despite the heaviness in your head, you couldn’t seem to sleep. You tossed and turned in the bed, occasionally picking up your phone to scroll through it or just watch the time tick by. You had a lot of thoughts mulling around in your mind, most of them revolving around the man sleeping just right across the hall.

           Never in a million years did you expect Jean to walk in with a beautiful, perfect kitten as a gift. The little thing was back to sleeping again, this time curled around one of your feet, each exhale a little purr against your toes.

           You’d carried the weight of this crush around for too many years. You rubbed your palms against your eyes, sighing as you came to terms with your feelings for Jean for what felt like the thousandth time. Your pining was starting to take its toll, too, what with the sleeping giant so close yet so far away.

           And you still felt like you were missing something.

           Throughout the night, your friends had seemingly been playing coy, teasing Jean about getting you such a big, sentimental gift. Maybe they had all caught wind of your suppressed feelings and were poking at Jean for even daring to indulge you. Now you were just getting frustrated with your thoughts, sighing as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep.

           But then you heard a little sound, the soft buzz of your phone against the wood of the night stand.

           Jean: You awake?

           Your heart skipped a little in your chest as you saw his name flash upon your screen. You texted him nearly every day, yet he never failed to send a little jolt of adrenaline down your spine.

           You: Yeah. Can’t sleep.

           Jean: Me either. Cabin is too fucking cold.

           You: I have a kitty asleep on my feet, definitely helps beat the chill.

           Jean: A warm kitty sounds nice right now.

           Only a few seconds passed before the next message appeared.

           Jean: Wanna come keep me company?

           Your thumb hovered over the keyboard for a moment, your mind not even thinking about the words in front of you. Instead, you were picturing Jean in his bed, hair tussled with his own phone in his hand as he texted you, light spilling over his bare chest in the dark. You wondered what he was thinking—maybe he just wanted you to bring the cat over to see him for a bit, or maybe his mind was wandering in the same place yours was, which was picturing him naked beneath his sheets.

           You set the phone down, momentarily starting to panic.

           You hadn’t prepared for this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility that Jean might be asking you to come get in his fucking bed with him. Thank god you took a leisurely shower earlier—and you still smelled good, you checked.

           You stood up from the bed, watching the kitten stretch and quickly fall back asleep on top of the blankets. You bent down to slip on your pajama pants, but then found yourself debating if you should just leave the flimsy material behind.

           If this was what you were hoping it was, walking in without pants would send the “I got the hint, I’m here to fuck,” message loud and clear.

           But if this was just “hey pal come keep me company, I’m bored,” walking into his room in nothing but a shirt and panties could be quite awkward.

           You decided to hedge your bets, stuffing your pajama bottoms back into your bag as that lingering liquid courage from the eggnog set in. If worse came to worse, you could always say you forgot to pack them.

           You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure the cat didn’t follow.

           Then, it was literally just a few steps to Jean’s room. Conveniently, his door was cracked. Did he get up and leave it open for you? Did he always sleep with his door cracked? Or had he planned all along to ask you to come over?

           You shook your head, taking a deep breath. Those inessential thoughts needed to be quieted.

           The door creaked as you slid past it, the old hinges signaling your arrival and making Jean’s attention whip towards you. His phone was still in his hand, like was watching your messages and too-eagerly anticipating your reply.

           “Hey,” you whispered into the darkness, wincing as the door kept groaning as you pushed it shut behind you. You leaned against it for a moment, too nervous to just waltz up to his bed and fall in. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to break the silence.

           “Aren’t you cold?” He whispered back, shifting in the bed.

           His figure was illuminated by the pale, grey light from window, the snow clouds still keeping the moon suppressed in the sky. Like you’d imagined, he was shirtless, all those hard-earned muscles on display from where he was propped up on his elbows, sheets low against his waist.

           “I thought you were cold, Mr. No Shirt.”

           “You’re not wearing pants.”

           “I’m not wearing pants,” you parroted back.

           You watched the smile spread across his face, that darling, infuriatingly pretty smile that made you a little too happy in this moment.

           He pulled his sheets back in invitation, revealing that he, too, was not wearing pants, only clad in blue boxer briefs that were sinfully tight around his upper thighs, etchings of Calvin Klein pressed against his lower stomach.

           His hands were on you before you even settled onto the mattress, warm and greedy and pulling you flush against his body. All those worried thoughts you had before vanished under his touch, the message you had been missing suddenly loud and clear: you weren’t the only one hiding your feelings. All those veiled emotions came alive beneath wandering hands, your fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as his found the flesh of your thighs.

           “Was this what you were thinking about when you invited me here?”

           You breathed in the smell of his warm skin as you settled against him, notes of his cologne still lingering against his body.

           “This is what I think about all the time,” he confessed, nudging his thigh between your legs.

           You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your mouth as the muscles of his thigh pressed against your aching core.

           “Me too,” you were pulling his face down to yours, thumbs against his cheeks as you pressed your lips to his.

           A satisfied sound rang from both of your throats, lips melding and slanting against one another hungrily.

           “Why didn’t you say anything?” His words were lost within the kiss, being swallowed down as you kept drinking him in.

           “Why didn’t you say anything?” You echoed back, gasping as his hands slid underneath your shirt and began to wander across your belly, reaching up toward your ribcage.

           You both knew the answer to that: you were idiots, too scared to admit feelings even though they were clearly on display for everyone around you. But now the question didn’t matter, all the answers you wanted about to be shared between your anxious bodies with starved kisses and touches.

           You shamelessly pressed yourself a little harder against his thigh, sighing as your pussy found relief against his leg. He groaned at your action, moving his thigh back and forth a little bit to see how you would react. When you whimpered, your own thighs squeezing around his, he smirked, repeating the motion of sweeping his thick, sturdy thigh back and forth between your legs.

           “You like that?” His head was tilting down, teeth nipping at your jaw and down your neck as your head fell back against the pillow.

           “Y-yes, feels so good.”

           His hands were still traveling, wandering across your heated skin like he wanted to map your curves into his memory. He groaned against your throat when he discovered you’d also forgotten to wear anything under your t-shirt, his thumbs lazily brushing the undersides of your breasts.

           You felt like you were burning beneath his sheets, like he was painting fire against your skin with every touch. His large hands engulfed your breasts, carefully kneading and rolling your soft flesh in his palms. He was eager to kiss you again, to slip his tongue past your parted lips and get addicted to your taste.

           Jean pinched and pulled at your hardening nipples, greedily taking your little mewls into his mouth. He touched you like he already knew you, pulling at your body like you were the perfect little sex doll on strings for him to play with; rocking you on his thigh, tugging at your nipples, tongue dancing in your mouth, his hair tickling your cheeks, his cock hard and hot against his stomach.

           Your panties were getting more and more wet by the second, the soaked material sinking into your folds as you rubbed yourself against the downy hairs and rounded, solid muscle of his upper thigh. His boxer briefs were bunching closer to his hips, pre-cum already staining against the fabric where his cock was imprinted into the threads. You slipped your hand down his impressive chest, fingers dipping into the elastic of his briefs.

           “Oh fuck,” he groaned against your lips, pulling back to suck in a breath as your fingertips brushed against the head of his cock, “fuck you’re so hot riding my thigh like that, so fucking wet.”

           “You did say you wanted a warm kitty.”

           Your words had him pinching harder at your nipples, making you gasp as he chuckled.

           “Mhm I can’t wait to play with your kitty, make you mine,” he punctuated his sentence by bouncing his leg up, sending electric pulses of pleasure racing over your nerves.

           You responded by pulling his cock from its confines, wrapping your fingers around it and tugging at the silken skin. God he was thick, barely fitting in your palm as you moved your wrist up and down. You suddenly felt so small against him, realizing that he was dwarfing you just by lying next to you in the bed. His long, thick fingers could spread across the entirety of your chest, the thigh sliding against your pussy was enormous, but it felt like it belonged there; you could get used to riding him like this.

          You both fell into a frenzied, delirious rhythm, your bodies bucking and panting as you found bliss against each other.

          His hands slid down your body, leaving your tender breasts and searching for a new home. He found your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he rocked you back and forth against his thigh himself, using the strength in his forearms to have your pussy pressed down against him in the most perfect way to have you seeing stars and whining his name.

          “Gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum just from riding me?”

          “Fuck, yeah, yes, please, make me cum like this.”

          Your hand had gone slack against his cock, your mind almost unable to concentrate under the waves of pleasure building and coiling inside you.

          It felt too good to have his rapacious hands on your hips, grip mean and tight as he basically fucked you against his thigh. You wanted to scream, your other hand clawing at the back of his neck for stability.

          “Baby,” he breathed, peppering a few kisses along your cheek, “could…could you call me daddy when you cum?”

          There was a hesitancy in his voice, like he was ashamed to ask such a thing.

          Your lower belly clenched, heat racing across all your nerve endings like he’d just poured sin straight out of his mouth.

          You nodded your head for him, uncontrollable moans and gasps getting in the way of your own words. The thought of calling him daddy, that sent something wicked down to your pussy, had your fingers squeezing and tugging at his cock again and your eyes falling shut.

          It felt like your sanity was breaking, like reality was splintering and this wasn’t real—you were dreaming again, weren’t you? But then you felt his cock twitch in your hand, felt your swollen clit brush against your panties and his thigh, and you were thrusted back into the actuality of your situation. You were with Jean, he was groaning in your ear, and you were about to cum all over him.

          “D—da…,” you were choking, so overwhelmed with a final cresting of bliss that you almost felt like sobbing.

          But he just clutched you more tightly, pressed you harder against him, whispering your name in encouragement to let yourself go for him.

          Then, you lost all of your sensibilities, euphoria washing over your body as you snapped and came undone with a little whine of, “daddy,” against his lips. You slowed the rocking of your hips, your heart beating out of your chest, your pussy pulsing and clenching as you rode out the last remnants of your orgasm.

          “Holy fucking shit that’s so hot, you’re so hot,” he mumbled, one of his hands smoothing against your cheek.

          “Wha—,” you smiled, shaking your head as you caught your breath, “what are you doing with a daddy kink, Jean?”

          He mimicked your smile, hands moving to slide your ruined panties down your legs and removed the rest of your clothing as he repositioned your bodies. You let him move you around like a ragdoll, so delirious in your afterglow that you barely even registered how he was hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

          “Do you not like calling me daddy?” There was a seriousness laced into his tone that told you he’d drop it if it made you uncomfortable.

          “I like it,” you fisted one of your hands in his hair, bringing his lips to yours for a slow, messy kiss, “just didn’t expect it.”

          “I’m full of surprises, baby.”

          You felt the head of his cock nudge between your wet folds, his hands back on your hips where they belonged. Your head fell back against the pillow as he started to push inside of you, stretching your walls and making your toes go almost numb from the pleasure. You felt like you were splitting apart, like a fissure was forming down the middle of your body, stemming from where he was spearing into you.

          With your legs on his broad shoulders, he was pushing you into the mattress, his hands urging your hips to relax and let him sink into your warm heat.

          “Ohhhh fuckkkk daddy,” you couldn’t help but to whine, all your senses suddenly overwhelmed again. You were drowning in him, falling deeper and deeper into the throes of heaven with every inch of his fat cock slipping inside of you.

          “God you’re so tight,” he presses his forehead to yours, keen eyes watching how your lips were falling apart and your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure, “that’s right, daddy’s going to take such good care of you.”

          It felt like all your history with him was being wiped away, like this moment wasn’t about two friends fulfilling all their years of mutual pining, but instead about a new relationship blooming between two bodies full of lust and desire. This was about Jean fucking you senseless, about him taking control and finally having what’s belonged to him for longer than he probably even realized. You wanted to lose yourself to him, lose yourself to his appetite and just let him devour you.

          All the air left your lungs when bottomed out inside of you, your walls clenching and sucking him in. He stayed still for a moment, nearly lost himself at the feeling of your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock.

          “So fucking perfect,” he groaned, dragging his cock out of you slowly before pressing in again, your cunt greedily sucking him back in.

          “I always have been,” you teased, one hand lost in his hair while the other slid down the expanse of his back. You bucked your hips in his hands, coaxing him to keep moving.

          “Oh fuck. Good girl.”

          His praise made you feel drunk, liquid heat rushing to your ears and between your legs.

          He began to snap his hips, repeatedly burying his cock into your depths, the angle of your body making him hit that fleshy patch inside of you. You cried out at the feeling of being so stuffed, your walls burning from the intrusion but that coil inside your belly tightening again, hotter and more intense than before.

          “Mhmmm, such a good girl, I promise,” you pressed your lips to his in reassurance, letting your breathy moans fall into his mouth as he started to get a little rougher. His pace was steady, solid, a hard motion of his cock thrusting in and out of you, each push and pull full of purpose and passion. Every plunge was making your lower stomach spasm, making pleasure burst across your body so forcefully that you felt that urge to cry again.

          “Wanted to fuck you for so long,” his face was tucked underneath your chin, mouth trailing across your throat between his words. A particularly hard suck against your neck had your back arching, breasts flattening against his chest and your nails clinging to him.

          Jean sat back on his knees, big hands smoothing down your thighs as he looked to where your bodies were conjoined, watching how your pussy enveloped his cock with every thrust of his hips, sweet skin encasing all of his length. He looked enraptured by the sight, groaning and hissing every time he pressed inside of you.

          Then his eyes were flashing up to your face, softening as he took note of your blissed-out state, your face flushed and your lip between your teeth.

          “So pretty,” he mused, a palm ghosting up to your chest to toy with one of your tits as he found a new rhythm.

          You were ensnared by the scene before you as well, eyes wide with delight as you admired the man before you. Jean felt unhinged, electric between your legs, like he’d finally let go and was pouring all his clandestine secrets into your willing body. His chestnut hair was swept over his shoulders, the muscles in his arms and across his body rolling, rounded and thick like he was marble come to life. And his face was smooth, pretty, concentrated, cheeks dusky with a dark blush as he found euphoria from within your body.

          Your hips began to match his thrusts, bucking up into him in order to feel his thick cock fall deeper into you. His strong hands encouraged you, gripping into the supple flesh of your thighs as he pressed himself into your wetness, faster and faster with every thrust.

          “Daddy,” you called out to him, having to bite back a grin as you observed how quickly you earned his attention, “you feel s-so good,” your hand was traveling down your chest, trailing over his fingers on your breast before snaking down to your clit, “p-please let me cum again.”

          You had an inkling that he would take over for you.

          His thick, long fingers hovered over your own, carefully aiding in swirling over your aching clit. You hissed, recognizing the buildup to orgasm pooling within your belly.

          Jean’s other hand slid higher upon your body, fingers lacing around your ribcage, framing the underside of your breast. He began to forcefully pull your body into his, sliding you upon and down the sheets and upon his cock. You cried out, legs tightening at his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, begging him to devour you and take what he wanted. His thumb was almost impatient on your clit, now circling so quickly that your body was shaking, lower stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly like you were lost in a reckless tide.

          “Shit, I’m not gonna last with you squeezing me like that, baby.”

          Your mouth watered at the thought of him finding that ultimate pleasure inside of you. Your ears became tuned to the chorus of resonances between your legs, the sweet, wet sounds of skin against skin, of slick at the base of a fat cock, of Jean grunting your name like a lost prayer.

          The final chord of your sanity was threatening to snap, you could feel it again, like he was pulling the strings of your body too tightly and you were going to splinter and break with just the right swipe of his thumb.

          “I-inside,” you mewled, unable to keep your eyes open any longer as your thighs began to quake, “daddy—oh fuck, fuck—cum inside me, please,”

          God you were so fucking close to falling off the edge, and he could feel it, using his grip to bring you even harder and faster down onto your cock to get you careening and falling again.

          Your push into oblivion came when you heard him pleading, almost whining, above you, sweat dripping down his skin as his syllables flowed together, “please, please, please, fuck, cum for daddy, cum for me, please.”

          You could both feel it, how you creamed around his cock, pussy sucking him in so deliciously tight that it caused him to lose all control. His fingers dug a little too deep, his cock throbbing and pumping deep inside of you with his release. It was like the world went quiet, like a blanket of snow fell onto your bodies and hushed your sounds and cooled your skin. You could feel the heavy weight of him inside of you, like he was meant to be there. Your body relaxed, feeling like you were sinking into the mattress and he was the only thing keeping you from being lost.

          When he finally pulled his spent cock from inside you, he wasn’t gone long. His hands were back on you again, pulling you in for simple, affectionate kisses and rubbing tenderly at the places he’d perhaps explored too roughly.

          “Jean…” you cut yourself off with a yawn, fatigued limbs winding into his own.

          His thigh found its home between your legs again, both of you groaning with a mixture of lust and disgust as you felt his cum drip into a mess between your thighs.

          “Whatever it is can wait until morning, we need to sleep.”

          “Oh fuck, it’s Christmas.”

          He nuzzled your cheek, lips searching for yours.

          “Mhmm, Merry Christmas, baby.”

          You laughed, laying your head against his chest.

_______________

          You weren’t sure how long you slept, but it felt like you spent a small eternity in Jean’s bed before your eyes opened again. When you awoke, he was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with the kitten in his arms. She was ready to play, striped tail swishing as he dangled a toy mouse just out of her reach.

          “What time is it?” You stretched, suddenly all too aware that you were still very naked beneath the sheets.

          “It’s only eight, everyone else is still asleep aside from Mikasa who actually went for a run in the fucking snow.”

          Jean smiled, hair tucked behind his ears, and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized just how madly in love with him you were. You always aimed to make him smile, to hear him laugh, but to see him gazing at you in the morning sun with pure adoration shining in his hazel eyes had you practically melting into the bed.

          “I meant what I said last night, you know,” he said, turning the kitten loose to run across the bed.

          “You said a lot of things last night, daddy,” you teased, watching his cheeks turn a pretty pink at the mention of that name.

          “I meant about you never spending another holiday alone. Because, you know, I’d like to…” he trailed off, rubbing at the back of his neck like he was genuinely nervous.

          You sat up, running a hand down his arm before kissing at his shoulder, momentarily getting lost in the smell and feel of him.

          “Yeah, I’d like that.”

          No one was surprised that the two of you, and the kitten, spent every single holiday together thereafter, mostly naked, and always smiling.

[songmingisthighs]

[19.06] mafia!hongjoong × reader

⇀ you were interested in hongjoong, a notorious leader of a very successful mafia organization. sadly he didn't see you that way. if only he knew the true you before making a rash judgement

⇁ tw : mafia life, angst, mentions of black market activities, death, violence, dark stuff. read at your own risk.

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

The door to Hongjoong's office opened and in walked his right hand, with a teasing smirk on his face. Hongjoong looked up from the paperwork on his desk and looked up to the man with a raised eyebrow, "what are you smirking at?" he questioned.

Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door, "there's someone here for you," he said whilst holding onto his laughter. Hongjoong shifted his gaze from his friend to the door and then back to him again, "who?" "your girlfriend," Seonghwa teased.

Before Hongjoong could throw anything at him, though, Seonghwa had run off, laughing heartily.

Not long after, you came into his office with a wide smile. As per usual, you were dressed to impress, head to toe with a black and white vintage channel mini skirt and blazer, adorned with a channel necklace and earrings. As you walked in, Wooyoung, one of Hongjoong's trusted men, looked at your passing figure with mouth hanging low and a starstruck look on his face. But you didn't care, you only had eyes for Hongjoong.

It has been roughly five months since you started dropping into Hongjoong's office. Your dad, an equally highly successful head of the mafia from where you're from, wanted you to get married to expand his business and make more allies. He gave you several options but you were immediately intrigued by Hongjoong, one of the mafia heads he made a partnership with by providing him with weapons. The comprehensive file your dad gave you did Hongjoong no justice so you decided to get to know him for real.

Unluckily, Hongjoong is very secretive and protective of himself and his family (re: his brothers; his most trusted men in the mafia). He had been betrayed so many times before and his thirst for revenge both became his strength and downfall. While he managed to build a highly acclaimed mafia organization at such a young age, he closed off everyone who he deemed not worthy of his attention even after only seeing them for less than five minutes.

Sadly, that included you. You weren't the only one who got a comprehensive file on the other, he too had one of you. A straight-A student from Wharton with hobbies consisting of horseback riding and charity? He wondered whether you were preparing to take over your dad's mafia or to steal the Crown of England and be its ruler.

Hongjoong tried his best to hold in a groan of annoyance but even so, some still escaped him and you heard it. Though you were used to it so you just ignored him.

"Hi, Joong," you grinned widely at him, walking in and putting a medium-sized box of cake on his desk after closing his door. "Don't call me Joong," he grumbled.

In all honesty, your bubblegum personality sickened him. He knows for a fact that no one is that happy-go-lucky and excited and has rainbows shooting out of their asses 24/7. So there has to be something you were hiding from him.

You only chuckled at his response, "You're a sourpuss, you know that? You're gonna have wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning all the time like that," you said as you focused yourself on opening the cake box.

Inside it was the cake you made for him. All the times you visited him, you never made him something from scratch. You were trained to be the head of a mafia organization one day, not in the kitchen. So that cake was the very first thing you made and you were beyond proud of yourself.

"Look," Hongjoong exhaled sharply, starting to get annoyed even before you did anything, "You came at a bad time, I need to get a hundred thousand things done before tonight, in case you didn't realize, my organization is-" "in the brink of war with Stray Kids, I know, I've read the reports," you simply said, hands moving to cut the cake in front of you to hand to him.

"I have connections with the leader's soft spot, the foreigner one, I can make a deal that would help your case if you would jus-"

"NO!!!!" he yelled out, slamming his hands onto his desk, startling you so much that you accidentally dropped your knife and stepped back a little.

Maybe it was the stress of having to deal with things alone, or maybe it's just him finally snapping from overthinking about you, but one thing's for sure is that he had had enough. He needed to put you in your place.

"You may be your daddy's little princess back home, all dressed in white and pink and lace, showered with Channels, Tiffanys and your hoity-toity prestigious Wharton degree. But here, you're nothing, got me? You understood nothing about having to work your ass off to get the recognition and rewards you deserve, you had your daddy behind you this whole time and that's very convenient for you. But don't come here and act like you know shit, okay? Our worlds are different, you came from a cotton candy palace, I came from the ditch, your opinion means less than shit to me," he spat out so quickly, he didn't realize that your expression changed to something that he had never seen before.

Your eyes were blank and glazed, lips slightly quivering and chest heaving.

Hongjoong thought that he had really put you in your place and he was about to celebrate the fact that he might finally drove you away when you opened your mouth.

"Cotton candy palace? Not understanding having to work my ass off?" you choked out.

At first, Hongjoong thought you were gonna cry. But a sadistic, maniacal laugh resonated in the room from where you were doubled over, holding onto your stomach.

It was Hongjoong's turn to be stunned into silence.

"Oh my god, I thought you were smarter than that," you muttered as you calmed down, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes, "you think that this is who I am?" you asked with a raised eyebrow at him.

Hongjoong was confused about whether or not he should speak. It was the first time anyone had ever stunned Hongjoong and Hongjoong didn't know what to do.

"I was born from a girl who was en route to be sold in a human trafficking ring, I came out premature and was about to be sold to a satanic cult as their sacrifice but my 'dad' 'rescued' me. I was stored in a facility with thirty other children, we were trained to be assassins since before we could walk, brainwashed with ideals that ruined our brains. One by one, each year some of us were taken out if we show a lack of improvement or no promise," as you talked, you took off your earrings and necklace and put them on Hongjoong's desk.

While you ran a hand through your messy hair, you stared into him deeply, "I was seven when I first killed someone, my last competition. She was two years older than me and she was sold by her parents for coke money, or as the warden told us. We were reminded every day of how worthless we are so we wouldn't rebel and escape. But even in despair, I wanted something more. That's where daddy came in. He was impressed with me and he took me in as his daughter, telling people one of his whores were pregnant with me to assure my legitimacy. I was schooled in my own private red room. I had to fight for my right as a human being, I made deals with my dad to be able to go out with bodyguard escorts for only an hour every month,"

Hongjoong's eyes followed your hands that gripped onto the edge of your skirt, "did your little binder wrote that I went on my first official mission when I was just twelve? My dad cut the ballet lesson that I trade in for 120 hours of combat training short to gear me up, put me in a room of adult men and sent me off to plant an active bomb in 5 minutes in an air vent of the headquarters of his rival, crazy, right?" you chuckled humorlessly whilst ripping your skirt off to reveal your black shorts inside, a knife and a gun holstered on your thighs were revealed, making Hongjoond's eyes widened.

He never would have imagined someone like you to carry weapons under your very girly outfit. Or to even have such a traumatizing backstory.

"My whole appearance is compensation for my very dark upbringing, I wanted to hide it all. My dad told me I was stupid, that I belonged in the dark, dark world. But when I went to Wharton, I tried to change myself. I thought that I might be able to be the person I wanna be by marrying someone my dad approved so I don't have to take over wholly, I could just be the voice by the side, lending my skills and help the organization indirectly,"

You looked down at your heels clad feet for a second, letting your toes point and moving them from left to right to see what it looks like.

At this point, Hongjoong felt bad for having blown up at you. You had only wanted to spend time with him and even if he didn't want to see you, he could've said it nicely. Hongjoong never felt like this before, it was very weird for him.

He was about to walk over to you when you suddenly took your heels off in a flash and threw them both at Hongjoong so hard that it embedded deep into the wall on either side of his face.

Your usual smile was replaced with a frown, the eyes that usually twinkled showed nothing but darkness. He barely recognized you and he was on edge about it.

"You made your standing with me perfectly clear, Kim Hongjoong, while my dad is one to stop things before they become an issue, I like to see how things unravel," you smirked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, not being able to process anything.

"It means that your partnership with my dad is off, good luck finding a new weapons supplier," you spat out before turning around to leave the room, leaving traces of yourself behind at his office.

Hongjoong wanted to call after you, try to make things better somehow. But his head still couldn't even wrap around the shocking information you had just revealed.

Not long after you left, Yeosang came in but stopped at the door, scanning the room that was littered with remnants of you. "What the fuck happened here? Did a hooker tried to kill you!?" he asked, still confused at the situation.

When Yeosang looked up, he saw Hongjoong in a way he had never seen him before.

Nervous.

"I-I- I think I just forged a war between us and the largest mafia weapons manufacturer on the eastern hemisphere," he uttered out.

[parkjiminiemouse]

Daddy Issues

Purely based off of the vibes the song gives off

———————————————————————————

Take you like a drug

I taste you on my tongue

Yunho was addicting, everything you wanted in a man. He protected you, comforted you, provided for you. He was there for you in ways you couldn’t be for yourself.

His soft lips were pressed against your chapped ones as tears stream down your face. You felt so lost without him, you were glad you had him. Gripping onto his shirt tightly you close your eyes, melting into the kiss. He felt safe but it also scared you. What if he needed you? Would you be able to provide that?

You ask me what I'm thinking about

I tell you that I'm thinking about

Whatever you're thinking about

You sit beside Yunho who looked lost and dazed. You had never seen him this way. He didn’t mean for you to see him like this either. He knew you needed comfort yourself and he didn’t want to burden you. He tried his hardest to hold it in and he failed. He failed you.

“Nothing, I’m not thinking about anything in particular.” He says, his facade slipping as your eyebrows furrow. He wanted to stay strong, for you.

Tell me something that I'll forget

And you might have to tell me again

It's crazy what you'll do for a friend

How crazy it is that you two weren’t even dating? How crazy is it that he only harbored feelings for you as a friend and was acting like he was in love with you? At least, that’s how you saw it. If he loved you truly, he would be with you. He would promise to never leave you.

In reality, Yunho isn’t with you because he’s broken himself. Whenever you’re in his presence he feels another part of his breaking. He doesn’t want to lose all of himself to save you. He wanted to save himself too.

Go ahead and cry,

Nobody does it like you do

Your cry was unlike anything he had ever seen. Never had he seen someone so broken. Not even himself. You shook violently as sobs escaped from your lips. Face buried in the palm of your hands. How sad you looked. How sad you were.

I know how much it matters to you

I know that you got daddy issues

And if you were my little girl

I'd do whatever I could do

Yunho smiles brightly at you as he took you to the amusement park. Going tonight meant a lot to you. This place acting as your sanctuary before Yunho was around. Your eyes glistened but for once it wasn’t with tears, it was with excitement. Yunho just adored it. How fucked up was your father to make you feel any way other than this? This sight was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. From that point on, he vowed that he would give his future child everything they could every want. He didn’t want them to turn out like you…like him.

I tried to write your name in the rain

But the rain never came

For some odd reason, the rain never made you said. It actually provided comfort for you. While Yunho was away, you had promised him that you would do something to remember him bye everyday until he comes back.

You had checked the weather forecast and when you saw it was raining, you become excited. You wanted to write Yunho’s name with the rain and then watch it wash away so you could do it again and again.

Always comes at the worst time

You were freaking out, your mother had called you about a topic you liked to stay far away from, your father. Yunho wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. You felt alone, confused, scared. Why had she brought up the topic? He hurt her just as much as he hurt you. Why would he does he want back in now and why is she letting him?

You ask me what I'm thinking about

I tell you that I'm thinking about

Whatever you're thinking about

Pain filled Yunho’s hurt as he heard your statement. The same one he gave you when he felt broken, at his worst. How cruel the world was to them both. He took you into his arms, kissing your temple he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

Nobody does it like you do

I know how much it matters to you

You had to see him and Yunho knew that. You were looking for clarity and he might provide that. You couldn’t pass up on that opportunity.

Unfortunately, that opportunity passed you up instead. A few days after he had arrived, the day you were supposed to talk to him, visit him. He passed, tears filled your eyes at the news. You would never get your clarity now that he was gone.

I love that she's got daddy issues

Maybe Yunho was sick in the head. Maybe being in this environment changed him more than he had thought. He didn’t mind that you had daddy issues, that you moped around. It helped him feel normal, he had daddy issues too. You made him feel superior in a way, perhaps that’s why he liked you so much. Maybe that’s the real reason why he kept you around.

Where did my daddy go?

Go ahead and cry, little boy

Yunho’s tears soaked your shirt as he trembled in your arms. You were freaked out again. It was the only the second time you had seen him this way. You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t even know what the problem was. But you did what he always did for you.

You both sat there for hours as he cried in your arms. The cycle would never truly end. Your father was dead, you would never get clarity. His father was alive, he would never escape from the clarity of his situation. How cruel life is to the both of you, how cruel you both were to each other.

I love that she's got daddy issues, and I do too

[rebelwrites]

You Don’t Know Her Like I Did

Jax Teller x Reader 

Text in bold is present day and the rest is memories

Warnings Death

That day would stay with Jax until the day he died. The day his world finally crumbled, the day his life changed forever. The boisterous, loud mouth biker everyone knew had gone and had been replaced with a quiet, lost biker. He remembered the day like it was only yesterday, the one call that broke the untouchable Jackson Teller.

Leaning against his bike, he felt his phone ring for a millionth time. Pulling it out of his pocket he saw all the missed calls from his mom. Hitting call he pulled the phone to his ear whilst he lit a cigarette.

“Mom you know I’m on a run” he sighed.

“I know I’m sorry son but this is important” she sighed, by the tone in his moms voice he knew something was wrong, something had happened.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s been an accident” Gemma said shakily. “It’s Y/N”

Instantly he felt sick, panic ran through his veins at the thought of his old lady hurt.

“I’m on my way”

Shoving the phone back in his pocket and tossing the half smoked cigarette in the mud he squeezed the throttle, racing home to his baby girl. He was at least two hours away from home yet he managed to get home within the hour, not caring about breaking the speed limits.

His feet pounded the floors of the hospital as he made his way to you. His heart shattered into a million pieces when he saw you laying in the hospital bed, cuts and bruises littering your soft skin. Tubes and wires keeping you breathing.

“What happened” he breathed sitting by your side taking your hand in his.

“A lorry ran a red light” Gemma said her voice barley a whisper. “Jax the doctors are saying it’s not good. We could, she might” she was unable to say the words but he knew what she was saying.

Brushing his fingers over your cheeks, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Come on princess” he sobbed “just open then beautiful eyes for me. Please”

The only sound in the room was the steady beep of the heart rate monitor that was until the door opened, making Jax glance up to see who was entering the room.

“Sorry Jackie Boy” Chibs sighed “This one wants their daddy”

“Daddy” Harry said squirming in Chib’s arms before he place him on his feet and he ran into Jax’s arms.

Picking his son up, holding him tight in his arms he placed a long kiss on the crown of his head.

“Is mommy going to be okay” He asked as he played with the bullet hanging round Jax’s neck.

“I don’t know buddy” Jax sighed not wanting to lie to the 4 year old. “Mommy isn’t well baby, but no matter what happens I need to remember that she loves you so much”

A couple of hours had passed and nothing had changed.

“Okay Mr Teller, we are going to bring Y/N out of the coma and the rest will be up to her, unfortunately there isn’t much we can do at this stage” The doctor said softly as he did whatever he needed to do to wake you.

Jax watched intently as your eyes fluttered open, one look in them he knew things wasn’t good, the twinkle you normally had, was gone. He knew it was only a matter of time.

“My prince charming” You said, voice horse and not much more than a whisper.

“Mommy” Harry grinned trying to clamber into your arms.

“Buddy be careful with mommy okay” Jax whispered placing your son on the bed, watching as he snuggled into your side.

“Where does it hurt momma” Harry said placing his tiny hand on top of yours “You say kisses make everything better”

Jax thought he had no more tears to shed until Harry spoke.

“I don’t think kisses are going to work this time baby” You whispered using all your strength to hold your son tight, taking in his scent.

You and Jax knew this was the end, your body was shutting down and there wasn’t a thing anyone could do to stop it.

“Jax” You whispered looking at your husband who was trying to squeeze himself onto the tiny hospital bed.

“I know baby I know” He sighed kissing your lips softly, like you was made of glass.

“Look after our baby” You whispered tears streaming down your face as you felt yourself getting weaker. “Look after yourself, raise our son to be an amazing man like you”

“Baby I don’t want to let go” He sobbed into your hair.

“I know but you have to” You sobbed “Just remember I will always love you, you will always be my outlaw prince” Leaning down you placed a kiss on your sons head “my baby boy, I will always love you even when I am not here”

“Momma I love you too” Harry said looking up at your with his big blue eyes full of innocence.

“I love you” You said, your voice getting weaker.

Jax knew what was coming, he knew it was time.

“I love you to baby girl” He sobbed placing one last kiss on your lips, resting his forehead on yours, he watched your eyes close, a smile on your face as the monitor beside you stopped beating constantly and was now just one long beep.

Leaning against the bar, nursing the bottle of Jack, Jax felt a hand on his back. It had been 6 months since the worst day of his life, he had hardly been home, hardly seen his son. Just spent his days at the club.

“Maybe talking to someone will help Jax” Chibs said lowly.

“Don’t really feel like talking” Jax grunted “She’s gone and I feel it might just be too much to bear if I spoke about that day”

After a moment of silence Jax spoke again.

“You’ll never understand, no one will, you don’t know what we’ve been through. That girl’s my best friend and there’s no way you or anyone else is gonna be able to help me. She’s the only one who can and she’s gone” Jax said as hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he held onto his chain that now contained your wedding and engagement ring alongside the bullet. “Chibs, I can’t forget that day, no matter what I do and I feel like I’m drowning in all these memories. Our whole life together is replaying in my head”

The day you walked into the lot of Teller-Morrow, Jax knew his life was gonna change.

“Isn’t that Y/N Y/L/N?” Opie asked making Jax look up. “Yeah man, Jheeze not seen her since we dropped out of school” Jax said wiping his hands on the rag before sauntering over your you.

Jax had the biggest crush on you during his school years yet for some reason never had the balls to ask you out.

“Well I didn’t think I’d see you back in charming darlin’” Jax smirked.

“Fuck me, if it isn’t the famous Jax Teller” you laughed as he gave you a hug.

“But seriously what you doing in charming” Jax nodded offering a cigarette which you accepted, he noticed straight away you wore no wedding band “thought you’d be married to some pompous prick”

“I guess you are half right on that” you laughed pushing smoke out your nose “I dated a pompous prick but all the money in the world wouldn’t make me to go back to that life style. The bastard had an issue with me riding and how I dress so I left his sorry ass”

“Jheeze, guess you can take the girl out of charming but can’t take charming out the girl” Jax smirked “What can we do for ya”

“New tyres for the beast” you laughed nodding your head to the bike parked at your side.

Jax couldn’t help but smile as he watched you catch up with Opie, you had changed a lot since school, and definitely more women now, you wasn’t the skinniest person with your well defined hourglass figure, he couldn’t help himself as his eyes trailed your body, the ripped jeans hugging your curves, the vest stop revealing the perfect amount of cleavage, the battered leather bomber jacket was like a second skin, your hair pulled into a simple pony tail, cigarette hanging out your mouth. Jax was infatuated.

As he walked closer he overheard your conversation with Opie as you sat on top of the bench.

“He just couldn’t handle the fact I’m not who I was in school” you laughed.

Back in the day you were a straight A student Daddy’s little girl" Jax smirked making you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I just want a bad boy” you shrugged smirking as you saw Jax’s breathing hitch.

There was only one person that knew you had always crushed on Jax and that was Opie.

“I’m gonna sort your bike out” he nodded leaving you and Jax alone.

“If you want a bad boy then baby you got it” Jax winked “I’ll take you to the wrong side of the tracks”

After about half an hour Opie tossed your keys to you.

“So what do I owe you” you said pulling a wad of cash out your leather jacket.

“Put you cash away women” Jax laughed putting his arm around your shoulders “I think letting me take you on a date will be enough payment”

“And I can’t cope, it’s another death inside the family. It’s like she stole my way to breathe” Jax said playing with his wedding band. He could tell by the look on Tig’s face what he was going to say so Jax held his hand out stopping the words escaping his lips “Don’t try to tell me it stops hurting, don’t try to tell me she ain’t worth it”

The sound of little feet running along the hard wood floor of the club made Jax look up from the bottle. Reaching down he pulled Harry onto his knee.

“Daddy please don’t cry” Harry said standing on Jax’s knee wiping the tears from his eyes. “Momma wouldn’t want you crying”

“I know baby” Jax sighed kissing Harry’s head

“Are you coming home tonight?” Harry asked as he sat on the bar resting his feet on Jax’s stomach.

“I don’t know buddy” Jax said ruffling his sons hair.

“Pwease daddy” Harry said looking up through his eyelashes at him, tears filling his eyes “I miss momma too but you are never home anymore”

“I’m proud to be in the bad news crowd. The one my mama warned me about. The closest thing to hell she’s ever raised” you winked at Jax as you threw you leg over your bike “you coming baby”

“I’d go anywhere with you” Jax smirked placing his hand on your upper thigh, eyes full of lust.

“Come on then big boy let go bend the law and break some laws” you giggled placing a cigarette between your lips.

“Mmmm there’s other things we could do” Jax smirked running his finger across the top of your boobs.

“Maybe I’d let you do me on your bike” you whispered in his ear biting your lip causing him to growl.

“Grandma said we can order pizza tonight daddy” Harry grinned.

“That’s great” Jax nodded no emotion in his voice.

“Come on Harry” Chibs said picking him up and placing him on the floor. “Go find uncle Hap and annoy him”

As soon as Harry had ran off to find Happy, Chibs places a firm hand on Jax’s shoulder. Squeezing him tight.

“Right you listen here Jackie boy” Chibs said, his tone firm “you have a gorgeous son that’s trying so fucking hard to get his daddy’s attention and you are shutting him out, just like everyone else”

“Come back to me when you lose a wife” Jax scoffed.

“That shit don’t wash with me and you know it” Chibs snapped. Someone needed to be firm with him. “You aren’t the only one that is hurting. Everyday I find Harry just sat on the swing crying. The little lad is trying to be strong for his daddy”

“I swear you two was baptized in dirty water, by the hands of the devil himself, between the banks of a Whiskey River, beside the Highway to Hell” Opie laughed as he passed you and Jax a beer. “You are like the perfect match for each other”

Tonight was a massive celebration for your and Jax engagement, you was currently sat on Jax’s knee, his arm round your waist whilst your arms was tangled in his hair.

“Girl you got an outlaw. Ready to lay down all my guns. A dirty old hound dog. Learning new tricks like cuddlin’ up. You’ve got a hellcat purrin’ like a kitten. You’ve got a sinner down on his knees. It had to be hell on an angel. Lovin’ the devil outta me” Jax’s whispered as he kissed on along your jaw.

“Jax baby, we can’t dip out just yet” you giggled feeling full affect of the weed and whiskey.

“I will be quick” he smirked “promise”

“Fine” you giggled “show me a good time Teller”

“With pleasure princess” he said placing his hands under your ass as he carried you to his dorm room.

“I don’t have to sit here and take this shit” Jax snapped storming out of the club.

He threw his leg over his bike and sped off to the cemetery. The one place his brother wouldn’t nag him, the one place he could think.

Soon enough he was now sat in front of your grave.

“I’ve got too many I care about in this fucking place” jax sighed as he lit a smoke. “Babygirl I’m struggling, I really am. I don’t know what to do”

“It still amazes me even to this day how you got my every flaw, my rebel heart, every tattoo, every scar and still loved the outlaw in me” Jax whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I know everyone is probably thinking I should be moving on with my life right now but right now I can’t, they didn’t know you like it did baby girl, they don’t really know how I’m struggling to live without you, I’ve hardly spent time with Harry and I know if you was here you be kicking my ass right now”

“Thought I’d find you here baby” Gemma said sitting on the grass next to Jax placing a soft kiss on his head.

“How did you do it Ma?” Jax asked tears clouding his vision “how did you carry on after JT died and continued to raise me?”

“I didn’t shut family out baby” she whispered taking his hand on hers “I leant on the club, I know you are hurting baby but you actions are hurting that gorgeous little boy of yours. He asked me today if you always be this sad”

“I don’t know what to do Ma” Jax sighed.

“Take some time off, let Chibs lead the club for a bit and spend some time with your son” she smiled softly “he lost his momma too and needs his daddy so much. I know things may seem dark right now and like there is no way up but the one thing that got me through my grief was you. You was the strength I needed to carry on every day”

“Daddy” a little voice shouted.

“Sorry Gem” Rat sighed panting slightly.

“It’s okay” she nodded.

Harry climbed into Jax’s lap, snuggling into his chest.

“I’m sorry son” he sighed burrying in face into his sons blonde hair “I know I’ve not been a good daddy recently, in fact I’m sorry for a lot of things”

“Daddy I don’t want you to be sad” Harry said placing his tiny hand against Jax’s cheek.

“I know buddy” Jax whispered wrapping his arms around him.

The two of them just sat there not saying anything, Gemma was right, the only way he would start to try and mean his heart was from the love from the 4 year old snuggled into his chest.

[hercleverboy]

the year of goodbyes

spencer reid x gn!reader

masterlist

summary ↠ over the course of a year, Spencer says goodbye to three people— and hello to one.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ takes place in s11, talk of Alzheimer’s,  

word count ↠ 1.8k

massive shoutout to my beloved @ellesgreenaway for beta reading and encouraging me to finish this piece— india you are my actual saving grace

“If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.” — Paulo Coelho

People leaving wasn’t exactly a new concept for Spencer.

He knew it all too well, the familiar look that was cast over peoples features, how their eyes got glassy and lips twitched as they prepared to tell him that they were yet another person who would leave him behind— like so many had before.

But their choice of words was always different. He noticed a sort of pattern, when it came to people walking out of his life. They tended to dance around the words, never exactly saying ‘I’m leaving you.’

First, it was his father. He’d watched him pack a suitcase full of things, spit angry words at his mother and then turn to him, his son— placing his hand on his shoulder, mumbling a few cowardly words and that was that. Spencer no longer had a father.

(‘I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to look after you anymore.’)

Second was Gideon, who never actually said goodbye in person (and Spencer couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse.) Instead, he left, wrote words down on a page and then addressed it to him.

(‘Spencer, I knew you would be the one to come down here.’)

And again, with Alex. Not a goodbye, not in the formal sense, but Spencer’s heart ached with how he knew what this was— he recognised the look on her face and knew that once again, he would lose someone he loved.

(‘You know, Ethan would’ve been a lot like you.’)

Everyone in Spencer’s life started to feel temporary. There one minute, gone the next. He wished that meant that he cared any less for them, or that it hurt any less when they left.

Of course, that was never the case.

His mother’s mental state had been deteriorating rapidly, and nothing— not anything that Spencer’s big genius brain could think of — was helping her.

When he visited her, he saw the vacant look in her eyes. He recognised the look of confusion on her face when he’d enter the room, ignoring how his heart squeezed painfully upon realising that his own mother no longer remembered him.

It would take her a few minutes, but eventually the confusion would disappear and she would give him a smile, greeting him with open arms and warm words.

It was a different kind of leaving, but she was leaving him all the same. She wasn’t physically going anywhere, but, mentally?

He saw how she was deteriorating, he argued with countless doctors and medical professionals, exhausting every book and resource he could find— just hoping he could come up with something.

But, no.

He found it a little ironic. He was the boy wonder, the resident genius of the Bureau’s elite behavioural analysis unit, a smartass who had endless amounts of knowledge.

He always had the answer, always had the solution.

Ironic— because the man who was supposed to know it all, had no clue how to protect his mother from a disease that would inevitably take her from him.

It wasn’t something he would ever come to terms with, it was never something he would accept. He knew how it was going to go, the doctors told him as much.

The day would come that he would walk into his mother’s room, and those vacant eyes would never gain clarification. Her confusion wouldn’t pass, and she would no longer recognise him.

Spencer dreaded that day.

He feared it, even. 

Because the day he lost his mother would be the day he lost himself. 

*

When Catherine Adams’ file came across Spencer’s desk, he thrusted all of his agony over his mother into the case. It was why he decided that he would be the one to take her down in the restaurant, why he insisted that she wouldn’t perceive him as a threat. 

Oddly enough, Spencer found himself intrigued by her. Perhaps, he simply enjoyed being intellectually challenged in such a way.  Or perhaps, somewhere deep down in the darkest parts of himself, he liked the attention, got off on being able to outsmart her. 

He was smug when he managed to trick her into getting into the back of the police van, under the guise that he’d found her father. (After all, she was ‘just another girl with daddy issues’.) 

It was only when Cat gave him a grin, one that contrasted with the tears that slipped down her cheeks, that Spencer felt uneasy. 

He crouched down in front of her, whispered a small, “Goodbye, Cat,” before getting up and leaving the van, feeling a weight on his chest that made it difficult for him to breathe. 

Again, it was a different type of goodbye. One he was of course relieved about, because with it brought the promised safety of Penelope, now that Cat was behind bars. Although, alongside the relief, there was a sour aftertaste. 

It was what led him to take a moment, sitting down on the swings in the park, hands trembling slightly as they grabbed the chains, swinging gently in a slow rhythm that he hoped would calm him down. 

The last words Cat had said to him played over and over in his head. 

“In twenty years, you won’t remember my name. But I’ll remember yours.” 

At first, Spencer assumed she was referring to how after a while, Cat would simply blend into the sea of seemingly never-ending unsubs who all tried, and failed, to outsmart the team.

It was only later that Spencer realised she was instead insinuating that he would succumb to the same disease as his mother— forgetting not only those that he loved, but the ones he hated too.

*

Spencer’s best friend was going to be a father. 

The team were gathered in the waiting room, eagerly awaiting news, when Morgan came out with a smile on his face. “It’s a boy!” 

Pure, unbridled joy burst throughout the room, with Spencer lurching forward to wrap his arms around him, laughing and giving his congratulations. He swallowed the lump that began to form in his throat and pushed away the thoughts that swirled around his mind. Deep down, he knew what would inevitably happen, but that moment wasn’t the right time to think about it. 

It was late in the evening when Derek Morgan stopped by Spencer’s desk. Before he even looked up from his paperwork, he knew where this conversation was going to go. When he did look up, it all but confirmed it— he saw the sad smile on Morgan’s lips, and watched how his eyes glossed over.

He said nothing though. Instead, he smiled and chuckled as Morgan gushed over his newborn son. His smile got even bigger when Morgan handed over the birth announcement— Hank Spencer Morgan.

Although he knew what was coming, he knew what decision Morgan was going to make, he expected nothing less from his best friend. A man who had grown immensely in the years he’d known him, going from a real ladies man to someone who would give up his job in order to be there for his family.

Morgan placed his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, a sigh leaving his lips. “Kid, listen. Here’s the thing..”

“I know.” Spencer whimpered quietly, smiling sadly. “It’s okay. I know. And I understand.”

He watched Derek Morgan walk away, sniffling as he willed the tears to keep at bay. He watched his best friend, his brother, walk away. And it hurt, God it hurt. But he was so proud of the man that Morgan had become that he pushed aside the hurt, reminding himself of what he knew to be true.

Everyone left eventually. 

Spencer feared that one day, he would look around and find that he was truly and utterly alone.

*

It was a normal Tuesday morning, and Spencer was making his way through the FBI Headquarters, up to the BAU floor. He stepped into the elevator, his coffee mug in one hand, and his other resting over his satchel. Just before the door closed, he heard someone call out. 

“Hold the doors!” 

Spencer reached a hand out, pushing the doors back open. 

You scuttled into the elevator, looking over to the male next to you with a smile. “Thank you for holding the doors. I’m already running a little late for my first day.” You explained, reaching to press the button for the fifth floor, watching as the elevator doors closed again. 

“The fifth floor? The Sex Crimes Unit?” Spencer asked curiously. 

You nodded. 

“It’s your first day?” 

“Yeah, I moved here for the job a couple of weeks back. It was an incredible opportunity, I couldn’t pass it up.” You expressed, and Spencer gave you a tight lipped smile in return. “I’m presuming you work here as well?” 

He nodded. “I’m in the Behavioural Analysis Unit, a floor up from you.” 

“Well, that’s good to hear. At least I have one friend in the building, if it turns out my new team hate me.” You joked, glad when Spencer let out a little laugh. 

“I’m sure that won’t be the case. You seem very likeable.” 

You grinned up at him. “Thank you.”

The elevator dinged, the doors opening. You looked over at your new friend, flashing him a nervous smile. “Well, wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” He smiled back, raising his hand in a small wave as you left the elevator. 

After a long day of paperwork (and thinking of the pretty person he’d met in the elevator), Spencer gathered together his things before getting into the elevator. It stopped on the floor below, and when the doors opened, he smiled at the sight of you. 

You looked up from where you’d been looking down at your phone, mirroring his grin. “Hey! It’s you.” 

“Yes—yes, It is, me.” Spencer replied, cringing awkwardly at his nonsensical response. 

You only laughed quietly at it, entering the elevator. 

“How was your first day?” He asked, only to be polite. 

You seemed surprised that he’d asked, but answered nonetheless. “It was good! Turns out my team don’t hate me. Or at least, I don’t think they do?” Your voice raised in question, making Spencer laugh a little. 

“See? What did I tell you?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

You leaned over, nudging his shoulder with yours. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

“Spencer.” 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Spencer. For the second time today.” 

Spencer smiled shyly, hands delving into his pockets as the elevator dinged. The two of you stepped out, looking at one another with timid expressions. 

“My car, it’s that way.” You pointed to the other end of the car park. 

“I take the subway.” Spencer responded, wishing he could find a way to make you stay a little longer.

“Well, have a good evening, Spencer.” You beamed. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yes!” He responded a little eagerly, sighing inwardly before clearing his throat. “I mean yeah, sure that- that’s cool.” 

You giggled quietly, waving goodbye before turning toward your car. 

Spencer blushed the whole way to the subway station, biting back the smile on his lips at the thought of you. 

People leaving wasn’t exactly a new concept for Spencer. 

But you? 

He had the feeling that you were going to be a very permanent part of his life, and he didn’t mind that in the slightest. 

*

permanent taglist: @beyonces-breastmilk @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @reidyoulikeabook @jemimah-b99 @muffin-cup @shadyladyperfection @rigatonireid @amoeebaa @mggsprettygirl @alltooreid @awritingtree @you-sunshine @bunny-script @spencerreid9 @ilovespencerreidmarryme @mystical-and-modern-marauder

spencer reid taglist: @reidtome @justreadingficsdontmindme

click here to be added to my taglist!

[whorefordazai]

Hi! Could I ask for two separate headcanons of Chuuya and Dazai and how they'd react to female reader having daddy issues and getting yelled at by her father in front of them?

everyone with daddy issues raise your hand🤚this is my cup of tea

s/o with daddy issues

ft. chuuya | dazai x fem! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: dad being an asshole 💗

Chuuya

This man doesn’t know much about your family life because you prefer to keep him out of it.

It’s not that you don’t trust him; you just want to keep Chuuya and your father in two separate worlds. Chuuya is yours and you don’t want your father to be able to walk into that world.

It was all going well until one day, when you and Chuuya were out shopping and you happen to see a familiar looking man.

Your...father🤢™

You freeze in your tracks and do a fully 180, tugging Chuuya’s arm with you.

“Hey! Where are we going?”

“We need to leave, now.”

Chuuya raises an eyebrow at you in confusion, but nevertheless, doesn’t resist.

The two of you somehow make it through the mall and out the doors.

But it’s too late.

You come face to face with your dad.

“Eh? Y/n, funny seeing you here.” Your father scoffs, raising an eyebrow at you and Chuuya’s arms intertwined.

You immediately let go of his arm, earning an even more confused look from your boyfriend.

He tugs your sleeve. “Babe, who’s this man?”

You shoot a glare and shake your head. “It’s no one. Now, let’s go.”

From the corner of your eye, you see your dad chuckle. “Is that anyway to greet your father?”

Chuuya’s mouth forms an “•o•” shape and you internally groan.

You already knew it wouldn’t end well from here.

Cue the screaming match.

Just like always, you and your dad are yelling at each other. He yells, you yell back.

Meanwhile, Chuuya’s just standing there, unsure what to do🕴

When your father gets too close for comfort, placing his hands on your shoulder, Chuuya’s eyes do a double take.

“Let her go. Now.”

Chuuya’s words surprise you. He’s standing up for me??

“C’mon, y/n. We’re leaving.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you away.

That was hot.

He would’ve drop kicked your dad in the air, buutt he figured it would’ve been a little too much.

You later on explain to Chuuya that you and your father don’t have the best relationship. He’s a lying sack of shit💗

Chuuya perfectly understands but still cracks a smile.

“What’s so funny? You look-”

“I’m just relieved I don’t have to get his blessing.”

Blessing😳

Your face tints red as you look away. He laughs and buries his head in your neck.

“Okay, but did I look cool talking back to your dad?”

“...yes, Chuuya. Very cool ಠ◡ಠ”

Dazai

This man would know you have daddy issues before he even got into a relationship with you (ó‿ó)

I mean, c’mon. He psycho analyzes people the first time he lays eyes upon them. Your behavior and antics would be a piece of cake to figure out.

But nonetheless, he doesn’t mention a word to you. If you want to tell him, he’ll wait for you.

He finds it a little amusing how everytime he asks about your family, you avoid the topic.

Anyways, one day you and Dazai are out on a date (basically him trying to commit double suicide)

This time, he found a way to dunk himself in a huge barrel by the riverside.

“Babe, I really might just strangle you with my bare hands one day ಥ‿ಥ”

“REALLY? I love you so much, darling!”

“｡-_-｡”

While you’re trying to help him out of the barrel, suddenly a man walks to you.

“Y/n? Is that you?”

You quickly turn around, recognizing the voice who is your father🤢™

Scrambling to pull Dazai out of the barrel, he finally flops down. Ass hitting the ground with a hard thump.

“Ah darling, who’s this man?” Dazai smirks, and you have a strong feeling he already knows.

“I’m her father.”

You scoff, grabbing Dazai’s hand and pulling him away with you. Your father suddenly yanks you back with a sneer.

“I always knew you’d end up in the streets. With gross illiterate men like him.”

Insulting you was something that already pissed you off, but insulting your boyfriend??

Fuck no😁

Cue the screaming match.

You and your father are both yelling at each other, meanwhile Dazai is standing there with a smirk on his face.

Murder on his mind🥰

“That’s enough. Don’t talk to my darling like that.”

Mans is pulling up his sleeves to fight🧐💗

Let’s just say Dazai intimidated your father enough to send him walking away.

Back home, you groan into your hands.

Dazai comes up from behind you, snaking his arms around you waist and laying his head on your shoulder. His low chuckle vibrates in your ear.

“Someone’s got daddy issues, hm?”

“...we don’t talk about it ಥ‿ಥ”

“Does this mean you have a daddy kink-”

“I’ll kill you.”

[heavenunderthemoon]

Olly, Olly, Oxen Free {Hotch x daughter!reader}

Warnings: PLEASE, be advised of the SEVERE mentions of gun violence, murder, death, etc. This is a heavy piece, so please, please, please, do not put yourself at risk to read this, if you would like to know the plot without reading let me know and I will accommodate as best as I can!

This is set in “100″, so, daughter!reader is currently trapped with foyet in her childhood home. Alright, enjoy. 

"Y/N."

You sprung from your place on the floor, watching your brother retreat past the living room, his feet happily climbing the old route he used to take in the childhood home he was raised in. You  doubted he forgot it so soon, even with his young age. This was the house they had made home. Over the last year, you would've done anything to be back in this house, surrounded by the memories of your past life. The life in which you weren't forced into the witness protection program, abandoning all of your friends due to a serial killer hellbent on destroying your father's life.

Your hand reached out, gently grabbing the cellphone extending from the hands of your mother's.

"Dad."

You forced herself to sound calm, composed. Sitting only ten feet from you was a man who had previously shoved a blade into your father's abdomen just to prove a point. You figured seeming weak wasn't particularly a good idea.

There was the hum of an engine, one that you knew well. When you was younger- much younger- you used to wait up for you father to come home from cases. Most nights you fell asleep before he came back, but on the rare occasion you actually made it past midnight, you could hear that very same hum of his government issued SUV pulling into the driveway, subsequently causing you to dart out of  bed to jump into his waiting arms. It never mattered to you that you would receive a scolding from your mother for not going to bed at a proper time, not when you would see the smile that grew on her father's face when you accomplished your goal.

That smile, so rare and so blinding, hardly even captured in pictures. Your father was a tired man, a hardworking man, a dedicated father, but all of his good qualities had hardened into stone from the heat of his job and sometimes you feared that eventually, even you might not be able to crack that tough exterior. It seemed silly, sure, but your mother used to be able to find the chinks in his armor, used to make him laugh and smile and love and then one day she couldn't and who was to say that it wouldn't happen to you too?

"Y/N/N, I love you, you know that?" He used the nickname Jack had accidentally given you. When he was just learning to talk, the boy was unable to fully pronounce your name and you had been stuck with it ever since. You used to hate it- or, at least pretend to, but you could never yell at Jack. The boy was too good at absolutely melting you.

Your father's voice, which was typically strong and gruff, came out a bit cracked. It filled you with a sinking feeling. If your father wasn't composed then how the hell were you supposed to be?

The man who hoisted you on his shoulders every Fourth of July to see the fireworks better, or grabbed every spider that made you scream for your life. The man who taught you how to swing a baseball bat and then immediately yelled because you whacked him right in the knee. A fearless, strong, admittedly taciturn man that was making abundantly clear the ambiguity of your future.

You swallowed down that fear, you couldn't afford to be afraid right now. Y/E/C  eyes looked up to your mother. She was still beside you, looking at her daughter as if trying to engrain every single facet of your face in her mind, burning the image of her daughter into her memory.

"I know, I love you too." You didn't know how you managed to keep your voice so even but to anyone listening it sounded like a normal conversation. She could almost imagine they were sitting at a dinner table (something they hadn't done in a year because of the Witness Protection Program).

Pass the salt. She would've said.

"I need you to listen to me carefully, Bug." If you hadn't been so worried that you might die soon you might've found yourself scolding the man not to use that nickname anymore. After your friends had slept over in seventh grade and heard your father use it you were teased relentlessly, but now you didn't mind it. You didn't mind your father using a nickname you hated. You didn't mind a lot of things now that you were facing death, serial killer breathing the same air as you and your mother, standing in your living room, staring at you with cold, calculating eyes.  

It's funny how little things matter when death enters the picture.

"Remember when I taught you to drive?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you glanced to your mother, trying to keep your face void of emotion.

You hadn't learned to drive. You had begged your father, of course, but he had said no. You remembered the fight that had ensued, his words loud just to overpower your teenaged protests. "There's no use learning to drive when your mother's here, sometimes me, and the metro, it's useless. It would do you better to learn something more useful, like shooting a gun."

Oh.

The sinking feeling returned in the pit of your stomach. Or maybe it just never left. Your eyes hardened with resolve over what you knew her father was asking you to do, and you nodded.

"Yeah."

A tiny breath of air left your parted lips, and even with the confusion laced on her mother's features and the amusement playing on Foyet's, your mind cleared a bit.

Frontside. Trigger press. Follow through.

"I'm a terrible driver." You murmured to her father. Your hand began to sweat at what he was asking of you. You recalled the shooting lessons. It had been a year or so ago, the man wanting you to be prepared for anything and then he had been shot and you hadn't seen him since. Even with the little practice, you hadn't been too bad, but this was nothing like the shooting range. This was pointing a gun at a killer and hoping to anything that was good and holy that you didn't miss. Even so, who said you could get to the gun before Foyet got to you?

"You're good enough."

Good enough. You wanted to scream.

Foyet rose from his spot on the floor, and Haley stiffened in her place.

"I think that's good enough, right, Y/N?" The way he moved, eyes trained onto you, alight with a kind of...mischief? Yes, mischief. Like an adolescent boy who just found his father's stash of fireworks. His body moved like a predator. Refined, sophisticated, and calculated.

And, as he moved closer, you could smell him. He didn't smell like you thought a killer would smell. Though, to be fair, you hadn't ever given much thought to the scent of a killer. Maybe you thought that someone capable of such dirty, heinous crimes would smell as such. Like the rotten core would seep through their pores and become a putrid scent recognizable to those surrounding him. Instead, he smelt clean. Like laundry detergent and freshly washed hair. The hand that didn't hold the gun reached up, taking a strand of your hair into his fingers and running it through them deftly.

"Don't touch me." You pushed him back on instinct and, not seeming to expect such force, the man was shoved back two steps. Rather than cocking the gun right then and there, Foyet looked at you with interest and then, he did something you didn't expect. He smiled.

A laugh fell through his lips. It bubbled and boiled and hit your ears like nails on a chalkboard.

"Wow, you've got a feisty one, Aaron. I think she gets that from you, the old ball and chain over here is a bit of a whiner." He chuckled to himself like he said the world's funniest joke, and you glared.

"Leave them alone." Your father may as well have been on mute because the killer paid no mind to his orders.

He breathed in a deep sigh, looking at you with those same bright, calculated eyes. Then, as if coming to a consensus, tilted his head. "How about this, how about you go hide, I'll give you a head start, and then I'll come find you."

You could feel her mother bristle from beside you, quiet whimpers coming from her mouth. The hum of the engine played in the background, and the wind chimes on the front porch sang a tune with the breeze. "No." You said firmly.

Foyet pouted, going to stand closer to the two. With each step he took closer to the two of you, it felt like a nail going into her coffin. You could see the twitch in his hands, as if itching to plunge a blade into your mother's flesh, yet, you couldn't just leave your mother. You couldn't leave her to die.

"Ah, come on. You're a teenager- a teenage girl, no less, aren't you guys supposed to be fun?" His tone was teasing and coupled with his non-imposing figure, he shouldn't have been able to chill you with his words but the way his eyes bored into yours they did.

You felt a hand on your elbow, a nudge and you glanced back to your mother. Haley was smaller than you, it had been that way for about a year or so now. You had hit a growth spurt once you entered high school, inheriting your father's height, and it caused you to be a couple inches taller than your mother. Her eyes were filled with tears that were streaming down her face without care. You had seen her mother cry more than most daughters should.

Haley liked to cry at night, after putting her children to bed. She didn't think about how often you stayed up, listening to the sobbing on the other side of the wall.

A hand cupped your face, and you leaned into the warmth. How many fights had you two gotten in over the past year? You had always been a daddy's girl. He was never home, and it left your mother to be the 'bad guy' in most situations. And then, you all had been forced to pack up your lives and vanish. That year had been filled with nights of yelling at each other. Fights about small things. Like, your music playing too loud, or drinking too much coffee. And big stuff too. Like, you confronting your mother about having an affair.

Your relationship had been rocky. But, she was still your mother. She still reminded you to wear a coat when it was cold out, or washed your sheets when you felt sick. She made your favorite meals when you were sad, and bought  nail polish that she thought you would like. She was your mother, and you didn't think you would ever be able to ignore that.

"Y/N, go." Her words were stern, and it reminded you of a scolding. But your mother's lips were tugging at the corners, and she was caressing your cheek so softly that you thought you would collapse right there. Your heart clenched at the sight of your mother.

Would this be the last time you saw her? The thought made you want to scream, cry, and punch something all at once.

For the first time that afternoon, you let your mask slip. Your eyes welled with tears, lip trembling. "Mom, no." it came out shaky, and you didn't have to turn around to see Foyet smiling at the way he could make an entire family fear for their lives in a mere couple of minutes. You could simply feel it.

Haley nodded, both her hands cupping your face now, scanning it over and over again. Your eyes, a fierceness to them that mimicked her own. A button nose that sat above rosy pink lips. On your chin, a small scar. You were an adventurous child. You hadn't been afraid to climb the monkey bars despite being far too small for them and when you had fallen off, you had busted the skin open. Haley remembered being panicked, seeing you covered in blood, rushing you to the hospital, to find that you were calmer than she was. That's how you always were. You were never scared. You were brave and fearless and kind and even if you played awful, punk alternative music that made Haley's ears want to bleed, you were such a sweet girl with a big heart. The mother stood on her tiptoes, kissing your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, trying to burn the memory of her mother's lips on your forehead in your mind. And when you opened them again, you tried to burn the image of your mother as well. Even now, red eyed and sniffling, your mother was beautiful. Everyone always told you, you looked just like your mother. Haley used to have blonde hair. It had passed her shoulders and you used to beg her to play hair salon because of it. She had cut it after the divorce and you had a suspicion that it was because she craved change. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, just like yours. It made her skin pull taut when she smiled. Her nose was soft and dainty- something you had always been jealous of.

What if you never saw your mother smile again?

Haley was nodding, nodding and patting the girl's cheek and it took you a moment to realize she was speaking once more. "Go, baby. I'll be okay."

No, you won't. You wanted to say. You wanted to let your body fall into your mother's arms and have the woman hold you like she did when you were a child. You wanted to feel your mother's hands run through your hair and hear the woman sing you to sleep. You didn't care how childish it seemed, you just wanted your mother.

Your shoulders shook and you fought to keep your emotions from consuming you.

"I- I love you." It was a desperate attempt at closure but it did nothing to make you feel better. It only made your mother smile.

"I love you too." Haley gave one final pat before a light shove and you felt numb. You couldn't feel yourself hand the phone to your mother, nor could you feel your feet move in the desired direction. Everything in you felt like it was simultaneously being doused in cold water and burned in hot flames. Your mind kept screaming at you to go back. Turn around, grab your mother and hope for the best but you could hear Foyet talking with your mother now and she knew that your father had told you what to do next.

It was weird.

All the nights you had spent in that stupid witness protection program, closing your eyes imagining you were back in your childhood home. You would pretend you were back in your room, waiting for your father to come home. You would pretend your mother was putting Jack to sleep and you would pretend that everything was normal. Now you were back and everything was wrong.

Focus.

After teaching you how to properly use a gun, Aaron had told you where one could be found in cases of dire emergencies. Your feet stepped lightly, moving as swiftly as you could. The laces on your converse slapped against the sides of the shoes and you silently pulled open your father's nightstand. It hadn't been touched since you all had moved out.  It was normal upon first glance. A couple of papers, reading glasses, sleeping pills. You knew better.

You pulled at the string on the bottom, the false top giving in immediately and revealing the silver .38. You grabbed for it, cocking it as quietly as you could. The weapon was heavy, yet, familiar in your hand. You thought that in a time like this you would be more shaky, but all you could focus on was your mother's quiet sobs from the living room a whole story down.

The sound gave you hope. If she could cry, then she was alive. You pushed on with that thought in mind, rounding the corner. Just before you could head back downstairs and possibly take down Foyet, you heard it.

Gunshots.

Your mother cried out the first time, but it was completely silent after the second two. Just the light thud of a body hitting the floor.

You bit down on your cheek to keep herself from screaming. The taste of blood followed soon after. Your hand rose to your mouth, attempting to muffle the cries that attempted to escape.

"Y/N!" A sing song-y voice called out. There was a thumping sound on the stairs and after a sickening moment, you realized it was the sound of your mother's body hitting the wood. He was dragging her up the stairs, wanting to display her just how he liked. Your eyes burned and you let the tears fall down your cheeks without care. They dripped off your chin, falling onto your shirt. It was a band t-shirt. Your mother hated it, said that the swords were too violent, but she allowed you to wear it anyways.

You darted into the closest door- Jack's old room- eye's scanning your surroundings for a plan. Whatever Foyet was doing, you knew you didn't have much time until he was coming after you.

"I just wanna play, Y/N. Come out, come out wherever you are." He sang out. He must've taken your mother- your mother's body, you corrected yourself bitterly- to your parents bedroom. With a chilling realization, you remembered you had been there only moments before. He was close to you.

Your eyes landed on the closet, overflowing with toys, even months after not being in use. Jack tended to get whatever he asked for- not that he was spoiled, he was just hard to say no to. It wasn't difficult to squeeze into it, leaving the door open a crack. The gun sat in your hands ready and waiting.

You steadied the sound of your breathing.

How was you going to tell Jack about mom? Well that was a bit optimistic, now, wasn't it? Presumptuous of you to think you would live through the next five minutes to be able to tell your little brother that our mother was dead, You thought bitterly.

"I think I'll lay your body right next to your Mom. You'd like that, wouldn't you? So you can be together?" He was in the hallway, and even with the barrier of Jack's door and the closet door, the sound of his voice made you shiver. It was smooth, charming, even. If you hadn't known he was a complete psychopath you wouldn't have given the man much thought. You wouldn't have thought him capable of doing the heinous acts he had done.

There was a creak, the door opening to the room and your arms rose slightly. Your eyes were peaking through the crack, your heart racing. You could see the man moving into the room, searching for his next prey- and that's what he thought you were. Prey. He thought you were an easy target. Everyone did.

Everyone thought you were just some stupid kid. Some people said it outright and others just assumed. You could tell when you first met your father's team, some of them had stereotyped you as well. They had asked her about school and about boys and gossip, because they assumed that was all you were capable of speaking about and then you had surprised them by mentioning books and Neo-noir films. You were accustomed to being underestimated. And you were betting your life that George Foyet was doing the same.

As soon as you saw the man move into the middle of the room, you sprung. The door flew open and before you could hesitate, you pulled the trigger. Pure shock could've been the reason, you were able to get out of the room. Or perhaps you had managed to shoot him in the head and end your family's suffering once and for all. You weren't sure because you were moving purely on instinct. Your feet carried you through the house, jumping over toys and broken chairs and bloodstains that weren't there before.

"You bitch!"

Okay, so he was alive. He was chasing after you but you didn't look back. You jumped into the linen closet, out of breath but not allowing yourself to pant as you wanted to. You could hear the slight groans of the man as he made his way through the house, though it was farther, as if he was walking in the wrong direction. You had slowed him down, that's for sure. The gun in your hand felt warm, like a pat on the back, but the thought of your mother's dead body lying somewhere in the house sat in the back of your mind.

Where was Jack? You thought briefly. You had to trust that he was safe. Trust and pray that whatever their dad had said to him had made sense. You hoped he couldn't hear anything that was going on. That he didn't hear the sound of your mother being murdered and you shooting the killer.

You  felt the towel shelf press into your back, but you didn't dare move anymore. You were sure Foyet hadn't died now. If anything, you might've made him more angry.

It smelled like fresh laundry in the small space and it reminded you of Sunday nights. Your father was usually home, cases typically being taken during the week and coming home Saturday nights. That's why you liked Sundays so much. You liked waking up to the smell of pancakes while your father played a Beatles album. He would sing into a spatula and twirl your mother around the kitchen. And Haley would laugh and tell him to stop, but she never actually meant it. And, when he noticed you coming down the stairs, he would take you in his arms- no matter how big and tall you had gotten, he never stopped doing it. He would spin you around as well and when you was little you would dance on his feet, but when you were older, your bare feet would touch the cold hardwood floor.

Your mother would do crossword and pretend not to notice that your father was giving not-so-subtle hints every so often. Your father would have you catch him up on what you had been up to that week, and you would have to help Jack read through the comics because he didn't really understand the jokes. Sundays were your favorite days because instead of being a separate family like they were every other day, they were all together and it felt normal.

You closed her eyes, trying to imagine it was Sunday.

A large clatter rang out, effectively snapping you from your thoughts. You could hear footsteps, fighting, yelling. It was hard to tell how long you waited in the closet, gun pressed to your chest. You could hear someone outside the door, light footsteps against hardwood.

The light on the bottom was obscured from a large shadow and you tried to prepare yourself. What would death feel like? Maybe you was selfish, or maybe you were a coward, but you didn't want to know. You wanted to stomp your foot and say that it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that your mother was dead. It wasn't fair that you were about to die. The door was ripped open and you extended your arms, about to shoot blindly, when you saw who was before you.

"Woah, hey, Y/N. Y/N, look at me."

You had stopped crying long ago, but your entire body was shaking. There was so much tension in your shoulders, it felt like somebody had tied you up entirely, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you. You hadn't realized it before, much too focused in getting as far away from the serial killer in your house as possible, but when you had shot Foyet, some of his blood had splattered onto you. You could see it now that the light was on it. It sat on your hands, partially dried and partially wet. And you could feel some of it on your cheeks.

You wondered what you looked like.

Derek stared at you. Your eyes were wild, darting between the gun in your hands and the gun in Derek's. Your cheeks, flushed as they were, were painted lightly with splattered blood. The only evidence of previous tears were puffy eyes, but you hardly seemed weak right now. You seemed...feral.

"Y'N, it's me. You're safe. it's me, it's Derek. Put that gun down." It was strange. It was like you could see his lips moving, you could see that he was speaking but you couldn't hear the words. All you could hear was the sound of your mother's body hitting the stairs one at a time.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

"He's dead. Y/N, he's dead." The sound came back all at once. Everything came back all at once.

You could see people behind Derek. There were cops and medical examiners, flooding in and out of your childhood home. They all seemed to be moving toward the same place, all in the direction where you had fled. They were heading toward the body, you realized. The body of your dead mother. There was the faint sound of sirens, and there was chatter. You wanted to yell at them, scream for them to be quiet. And then you saw someone else.

Your father was coming toward you. He was covered in blood. Who's blood was that? Was that your mother's? Was that Foyet's? Movement caught your eye.

JJ was holding someone in her arms, he looked confused, pointing at his sister, eyes alarmed at the weapon in her hands and the Jaraeu woman seemed to be trying to turn him away. He was asking for you.

'Y/N/N?' He said.

Your shoulders dropped, the weapon falling into the Morgan man's waiting hands. You stepped forward. Despite your sudden awareness, everything felt like it was in slow motion. The world was moving with resistance, and you opened her arms, almost crumpling in relief when Jack squirmed away from the blonde agent and ran into your waiting arms. You scooped him into your arms, sitting him on your hip.

"Y/N!" Despite all the chaos around you two, you let yourself focus on your brother. He seemed fine. Confused, surely. He had looped his arms around your neck but his eyes squinted at the blood on your cheeks that hadn't been there before. His little eyebrows furrowed, and he reached one hand to poke your cheek. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

Jack loved you. Before you two were put into witness protection program, he didn't see you all too much. You were so busy with school and hanging out with your friends, that you hadn't even been home very often. Then, you didn't have much of a choice.

You  liked showing Jack your music- the clean versions, of course. He would scrunch his nose at certain metal heavy bands, but you assumed he liked most of them just because you did. He liked to play cards with you, and have your draw him funny sketches. And when he would have bad dreams, you never hesitated to let him sleep with you.

You felt multiple sets of eyes on you, your father pulling you into a hug. They all pretended not to notice you flinch. You kept your eyes on Jack.

"I'm fine." You took a hand, running it through the boy's ruffled hair from hiding god knows where. He giggled at the action, and you let your hand rest on his cheek for a moment. Your mother was dead somewhere in this house, her body laid across the floor, slaughtered. You swallowed down the rising bile in your throat.

"Let's get you checked out, yeah?"

[sunflowergirl522]

Runaway: Their Journey Begins

Pairing: Tiefling!Bucky x Elf!Reader

Summary: Bucky takes a lot of jobs to make a living and this one was no different. Except for the fact that it’s for an elf prince and elves tend to avoid him in general. He accepts and with Sam and Steve they start their journey to find the elf prince’s runaway bride.

Word Count: 3355

Warnings: Language

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The tavern is crowded and full of life except for one dark corner where Steve and Bucky sit drinking from their mugs of beer. Sam had immediately joined everyone else instead of following his friends to their lifeless corner upon their arrival. They had all decided to celebrate the mission they just completed with a drink at their usual place.

“How mad do you think Sam is that we had to trade away his lute for the jewel?” Steve chuckles as he asks and takes another sip of his beer.

“I’m sure there’s still steam coming out of his little ears,” Bucky laughs. “Where is he anyway?” As the two of them look out into the crowd of people trying to spot their friend a table crashes to the ground drawing everyone's attention. Sam’s standing where it once was in front of an orc who looks like he’s trying to make sense of what just happened. Steve and Bucky look at each other before rolling their eyes at how drunk and angry Sam is. They know immediately that he had to have been the one to knock over the table and that he’s about to start a fight.

“Watch where you’re walking you big oaf! You almost trampled me!” Sam kicks at the orcs legs as he speaks. The orcs' eyes narrow in on Sam realizing that he had been the reason the table was knocked over and his drink now covering his lap instead of sitting in his mug.

“You spilled my drink on me. Who do you think you are halfling?” The orcs' voice booms through the tavern as he picks up Sam by his collar.

“It’s your turn.” Steve reminds Bucky as he nonchalantly takes another drink from his mug.

“I know, I know.” Bucky downs the rest of his drink before forcing his way through the crowd. “For such a half pint you sure cause a shit load of trouble Sam.” He grumbles to himself before addressing the orc in the room. “Hey buddy! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

“Get out of here helmet head, I have no issues with you.” Bucky snarls at the insult thrown at him and cracks his knuckles.

“Yeah, well now I got an issue with you.” He lands a punch in the orcs stomach causing him to drop Sam in shock, who immediately dashes over into the corner with Steve.

“Okay devil man, you asked for it.” 

The orc swings for Bucky who dodges it while landing another blow to the orcs chest. The crowd in the tavern bursts into chaos and cheers as the fight begins. Bucky manages to dodge another punch just to catch a blow to the face from the orc's other fist. He stumbles back a bit from the force of it and can feel the tear in his lip from his fang. He growls at the smirking orc in front of him. He jumps at him, shoving him over onto a table before climbing on top of him and throwing punch after punch at the orcs face. 

Then the doors swing open and everyone freezes as elven guards file into the tavern. The gold of their armor hints to the fact that they’re sun elves. It was rare to see elves in this area. And it was unheard of to ever see a sun elf anywhere other than their territory or in a war. So seeing all the guards fill in the perimeter of the tavern is enough to stop Bucky mid punch. A hush falls over the crowd as an elf prince walks in. He stops in the doorway and scans the place in disgust before his eyes land on Bucky. He makes his way over to him and stops in front of the table. He cringes at the bloodied orc before speaking.

“I’m in need of your services.” Bucky’s eyes go wide for just a second before the orc underneath him groans, drawing his attention back to him. He lands one final blow to his face before standing up and motioning for the prince to follow him over to Sam and Steve. The prince grimaces at the sight of Sam, so drunk he’s barely conscious, and very hesitantly takes a seat across from them while Bucky leans on the wall behind them crossing his arms.

“What can we do for you?”

“Find someone for me. My bride to be has disappeared under my watch. As of this morning she was missing from her room and she’s not in my kingdom. It’s preferable that you find her before her father realizes that she’s missing. I believe that she was kidnapped though any enemies we have wouldn’t have known that she was visiting.” 

“What does she look like?”

“She’s a moon elf.”

“I assure you, your majesty, that we don’t see a lot of moon elves in our profession. We’re gonna need a description to find the right girl.” Bucky spits out and a moment of silence passes before something clicks in Bucky’s head. “You’ve never even seen her have you?” The annoyance in his voice isn’t hidden and Steve bursts in quickly so Bucky can have a moment to stew in whatever he’s thinking of saying.

“Where was she last?”

“The last any of my guards or her guards saw her was in the room she was using during her visit.”

“And you probably won’t even let us go there.” Sam hiccups break apart his slurred sentence as he picks his head up from the table just for it to fall back down when he finishes speaking.

“Your drunk friend would be correct. My kingdom is no place for creatures like yourselves.”

“So let me get this right.” Bucky pushes off of the wall and leans his hands on the table and brings his head down to the prince's height. “You expect me to find some lost princess with no description, no reason for someone to take her, and not even be able to try to track her from where she was last?”

“I can give you a piece of her clothing for a scent.” The prince nonchalantly removes his gaze from the nails he was boredly examining and makes eye contact while he speaks.

“I’m not a damned hound!” Bucky snarls and slams his hands on the table causing many guards to step forward. Steve quickly stands up effectively shoving Bucky back and stopping him from doing anything stupid.

“We’ll look for her. Do you have any suggestions on where we should start looking?”

“There’s a town called Tavin that I’ve heard she spends time in, it’s not far from the kingdom, I’d start there.” The prince then stands up and motions with a finger for a guard to step forward. He drops a bag of coins onto the table and Steve grabs them before Sam can open his eyes to get a glance of it and try to snag it. “You’ll get the rest of it after she’s returned safely to the outskirts of my kingdom.” The prince throws over his shoulder as he starts to walk out of the tavern.

“What an entitled fucking weed eater! How the fuck does he think we’re gonna find his precious fucking princess?” The noise Bucky’s fists make when they slam into the table cause heads to turn in their direction and also causes Sam to groan out something about trying to sleep.

“Are you the best at what you do?”

“Of course I am.” Bucky scoffs out, annoyed that Steve would even second guess that.

“Then we shouldn’t have any trouble finding her.” Steve smirks at his friend knowing he had won whatever argument they would have over this whole quest. “Now let's sober up Sam and get ready to go.” He tosses Sam over his shoulder with just a small protest from the halfling and starts to make his way out of the tavern. Bucky follows behind him grumbling to himself in Inferno and makes sure to kick the passed out orcs legs on his way out.

***

They had let Sam sleep for an hour in their room at the inn not far from the tavern while they repacked their belongings. Once they woke him up they gave him a meal and some water to get him more alert. It’s the system they use every time Sam gets drunk too soon before leaving for a quest. They had to create it because Sam always insists that he can drink just as much as them and not get drunk even though he does every single time.

“So what exactly are we doing again?” Sam asks from atop Steve’s shoulders. He had climbed up after not even twenty minutes of walking because he was tired. He shoves some bread into his mouth while he looks at Bucky for an answer.

“We have to find some elf broad for this dick of a prince.” Bucky’s fists haven't been unclenched since they left town. He stalks ahead of his friends in his annoyance without realizing it. His annoyance only amuses Steve because he knows that once they get to Tavin and pick up a trail he’s going to be on top of it.

“Bucky’s still upset that the prince didn’t give us a description or anything to work with.” Steve looks up at the halfling on his shoulders as he explains the hostility in their friend's voice.

“I’m annoyed because the guy seems like an ass!” Bucky yells back over his shoulder.

“An elf gal huh? I have the perfect song for this!”

“No!” Bucky doesn’t even need to turn around to know that Sam’s reaching behind him to grab the lute that he made them stop to buy on their way out. 

“Fine but only because it’ll be tough to play on someone's shoulders.”

After a long time of walking the trio comes to a crossroads and according to the map they have, both paths will eventually lead them to Tavin.

“I’ve been to Tavin before, if we go right we’ll get there faster than if we go left.” Bucky looks at Steve and points his thumb over his shoulder at the path to the right of the sign.

“Buck, I’ve gone to Tavin a hundred times. If we go left it’ll take longer, yes, but there’s a small village in between us and Tavin that we could stop at to rest and pick up whatever we’ll need.”

“Steve, if I wanted to stop at a town I would’ve said we should go left. The prince said that we should find her before daddy dearest finds out so we should take the quicker path. And I don’t know about you but I want this over and done with already.”

Their bickering continues for a short while before Sam gets annoyed and looks at the map himself. He takes into consideration what bothe of his friends said and how much he would want to walk before he starts walking one way while bringing his lute around his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Steve calls out to Sam while Bucky smirks at him knowing that Sam’s just made their decision and went with his path.

“I’m gonna find me an elf lover!” After speaking Sam immediately starts to strum and sing a song about the love between an elf and a halfling. Steve shoots his own smirk at Bucky knowing that he’s gonna have to deal with his singing now. BUcky only groans before they both follow close behind Sam.

“Why did I have to befriend a bard?”

“Because said bard has saved your ass on more than one occasion.” Sam answers the rhetorical question still strumming along.

“Shut it shortstack, you were only able to help because no one can see you coming.”

“Can we just all agree that you’re both idiots and move on with our lives? I’d rather not spend the whole trip listening to the two of you argue the whole time.” Steve can’t speak without chuckling over how ridiculous his friends are.

“Alright.” Sam goes back to his song.

“Fine.”

The trio walks on for hours with Sam playing songs here and there and all of them cracking jokes at one another. They walk until after sundown and well into the night. Thanks to the stash of food Sam always has, they don’t even need to stop to hunt for some food.

“Can we stop walking now? It’s starting to get so dark we can’t see the path.” Sam asks as clouds begin to drape around the moon dimming their light source.

“Maybe for you but that’s why I’m here.”

“He’s right, Bucky. We should set up camp for the night, we could all use some sleep anyway.”

“Alright, c’mon, there’s a clearing off to the side of the path up ahead. We can set up there, I’ll start a fire.” Bucky leads his friends up the trail just a little farther before turning off of it and taking his pack off. He leaves Sam and Steve to set up the tent since the moon starts to peek through the clouds providing just enough light to work and goes off to search for wood for a fire. When he comes back he finds Steve sitting outside of the tent with Sam sleeping soundly inside.

“Do you think we really need a fire? I’m getting ready to head in to sleep too.”

“You’re telling me this now? After you let me go off to find the wood.” He drops all the wood at his feet before moving to sit next to Steve.

“I thought you could use some time to yourself to calm down a bit about this quest.” Bucky just nods at him and leans back on his hands.

“Do you really think we’re gonna find the girl Steve?” He asks after a moment of silence passes by.

“Of course I do Buck. As soon as we get a hint of where she is you’ll be able to find her in no time.”

“But what if she doesn’t want to be found?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking and the prince said that no one knew she was visiting right? So how would anyone of known to kidnap her from the kingdom? She could have just run away, I mean the prince doesn’t seem like he’s much of a catch, if I was being forced to marry him I would run away too.”

“I don’t know Buck, from what I’ve heard arranged marriages are rare even among elves. I’m sure if they were getting married they knew each other. I’m gonna head to bed, you should too.”

“Yeah, I will in a bit.” Steve nods and heads into the tent while Bucky looks up at the moon. He can’t help but believe that Steve’s wrong. It has to be an arranged marriage, why else would the prince not know what she looks like.He sits there thinking to himself and looking up at the moon for a while before making his way into the tent.

***

“Rise and shine sleepy head! It’s time to get this show on the road!” Sam bursts into the tent strumming wildly on his lute to get Bucky up. The tiefling groans and flicks Sam with his tail before sitting up. “Shit! You’re so fucking grumpy when you wake up.”

“Because it means another day of having to deal with you.”

“Yeah whatever, put a shirt on and come outside so we can pack up the tent already.”

“Morning Buck.” Steve greets from his spot on the ground where he’s looking at the map. “It looks like we’ll make it to Tavin by noon.” Bucky finishes pulling his shirt over his head as he walks over to his friends to take a look in the food pack.

“Morning.” A strand of his hair falls over his forehead and he runs a hand through his hair between his horns. “The pack’s almost empty, we’ll have to get more food when we get to Tavin.”

“Steve got up and caught some rabbits so that’s something.” Sam speaks in between bites of the roll he has in his hands. He nods his head towards the fire that the rabbits are cooking on.

“You’re not allowed to hold the pack anymore Sam.”

“What, why?”

“I know you’re the one eating all the food. You can be in charge of the tent pack from now on. Now come help me take it apart while Steve finishes packing everything else.”

Bucky and Sam get their gear out of the tent before starting to tear it down. Bucky throws his cloak on and packs up his leather armor while he leaves Sam to pack up each piece of the tent. When Sam starts to reach for the food pack Bucky grabs it before swinging it over his shoulder with his own stuff. And once more they start their journey to Tavin.

***

Tavin is a lively town with merchants and musicians littering the streets. The people loitering around seem happy as they laugh and talk amongst each other. Bucky brings his hood over his head as they reach the crowded town, hiding his horns the best he can. He never knows how people will react to seeing a tiefling walking among them so unless he’s normally in a town he’ll do this.

“You think we should try the tavern first?” Steve asks while motioning to the building with a sign reading ‘La Luna’.

“Yeah, if that doesn’t work we can start asking merchants.”

“Well, what are we waiting for, let’s go!” Sam speeds up thinking he’ll get some food and a drink while they’re there. Just outside of the tavern Bucky grabs onto the back of Sam's shirt successfully stopping him as he tries to keep walking.

“We’re not here to drink, got it?” Sam groans.

“Yeah, yeah, just here to get information. You’re no fun, you know that?” Bucky ignores his friend and follows Steve up to the bartender. Sam grumbles to himself but soon gets distracted by a pretty dwarf sitting in a corner of the place, packing up some food.

“Hey there newcomers, can I get you anything?” The barkeep greets Bucky and Steve as they approach the bar.

“No thanks,” Steve says as he leans against the counter, “we’re just wondering if you could help us find someone.”

“Barely a soul comes through here that I don’t know.”

“We’re looking for a moon elf princess, you seen her?”

“We don’t see a lot of royalty in these parts.” Bucky slides a few coins across the bar knowing how this process works. “Yeah, I’ve seen her. She’s a bit of a regular when she’s out adventuring. Pops actually named this place in honor of her.”

“Has she been here recently?”

“Was here just yesterday, met up with a clan of dwarves who’re here all the time. She left with them.”

“You know where we can find those dwarves?” Bucky leaves a few more coins on the counter.

“You got a map?”

Meanwhile Sam tries to shoot his shot with the dwarf maiden he had spotted.

“Hey sweet thing, my friends and I are in town looking for someone, but I think I might just be who you’re looking for.”

“Maybe you are.” She sends Sam a flirty smile. “But that might depend on who you’re looking for.” And boy is Sam weak to attractive women because he’s quick to spill the beans.

“Some elf princess, I’m sure she doesn’t match your beauty though.”

“Where are you friends now?”

“Over there, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind waiting around if I told them I was leaving with a pretty lady.” Sam points over at Steve and Bucky who’re talking to the bartender and the dwarf watches as Bucky slides coins across the counter with wide eyes.

“I actually have to go.” She leaves in a rush and Sam just shrugs.

“Her loss.” He makes his way over to his friends as the bartender points at the map in front of him.

“Sam, we’ve got a lead.”

Bucky Taglist: @puddinsqueen @koressecretidentity @stevieintheimpala @unmagically @peachytea01 @the-chocoholic-writer @perksofbeingatrex @99-cats @rachmmb @quokkatrash @vanillamaa @strawb3rrydr3ss @that-sarcastic-writer @spideyycents @mackycat11 @crystalsoul2 @rosiemotion @dissectiontime @lmf @jacelynenursalim @aiyanalevina @mooncaffeine @fanofalltheficsx @jewelsrocks99 @lharrietg @yoongisdumplingcheeks @clubcesspool @sailormajinmoon @girl-obsessed-with-things @corvusmorte @sophielovesbarnes @collywobbl @majo240820 @alina02 @toothhurtyam 

Marvel Taglist: @its-the-autism-innit-luv @pogueslandia @obsessedwithbuckybarnes @rorysreallyrandom @sxtansqueen @myalupinblack @aya-fay @lieswithoutfairytales @kakakatey @sugarbutterbailey @1-800-ch3rry @amelia-song-pond @leyannrae @ficsnrec @slut-for-bucky-barnes​ @neenieweenie​ @officiallyunofficialperson​

Everything Taglist: @florenceyelena @ninuffi @i-love-superhero @kolakube9 @lexy9716 @hehehehannahthings

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter ix

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe you invited Ransom Drysdale to come to the bar with us.” I rolled my eyes, already used to Ana’s whining, and turned away from the bar to scoop my surroundings. Still no sign of him. But it was early, and he’d warned me he probably wouldn’t be able to get here until at least 8pm, so really, I shouldn’t be looking for him like some sort of lovesick teenager.

I didn’t even know why I was so eager to see him again.

“He’s the father of my child, what did you expect me to do?” That finally had Ana looking away from her shots to glance at my body, perfectly squeezed in one of my tightest dresses, showing just enough cleavage and legs to make it one of my favorite get-lucky items in my wardrobe.

“You’re right. I keep forgetting the reason he’s in your life is because you’re pregnant. Seriously, I was about to offer you a shot and everything!” I shook my head, chuckling to myself at her ways. “I mean, can you blame me? It’s not like you’ve started showing or anything!”

Well, she had a point there. It was also the reason why 1) I had agreed to come out with her tonight and 2) chose this dress to wear. I had to take advantage of this body while it was still like this. Soon enough, I’d be too heavy to handle high heels or crowded pubs, not to mention the fact that I would most definitely not fit into these already uncomfortably tight outfits.

“I’ll give you that,” I grinned, tapping her hand teasingly, like I was trying to calm her down. “Sometimes I forget it too. What the fuck is he doing here?” I added as a familiar man made his way into the bar, Ana’s head whipping around to look at where I was staring at a blond, well-built guy, grinning widely at me. 

“Who’s that?” I was too busy grinding my teeth together as I watched him approach, but as he came closer and closer to where we were standing, I knew it was better to let her know who he was right off the bat, so she could help me try to keep him away.

“Steven fucking Rogers.” Ana’s exclamation of surprise was cut short by his arrival, his stupidly handsome face going from me to her as if he waited for a formal introduction. “What are you doing here, Rogers?” My usual irritation at his presence was intensified by a thousand, and I had no idea why. Even he seemed surprised, if his eyebrows raised high were any indication.

As much as I made sure to avoid him, I’d never had any reason to be outwardly aggressive towards him before.

“Same as you, minus the dress.” He made a show out of undressing me with his eyes, and I rolled mine while fighting off the urge to dry heave. Why do men just assume our choice in clothing has anything to do with what we actually intend to do for the evening?

“You know, for someone who’s a university professor, you can be pretty daft.” Unfortunately for me, my comment only made the man towering over my smaller frame start to laugh. “Excuse me, I’m gonna see if Ransom texted me,” I told Ana, while giving Steve a side-eye as I made my way towards the back of the bar. 

There was a door to some sort of patio, and so that’s where I went, breathing in relief at the absence of loud music, as the walls made it pretty muted back here. The nice, cold air of the evening was also a blessing. 

I looked at the purse on my shoulder and considered if I actually wanted to reach out to Ransom. It was only half past seven, there was a lot of time for him to get here and absolutely no reason for me to make myself look like a clingy girlfriend. I just needed an excuse to put some distance between Steve and I.

But just as I thought that my mission had been accomplished, the sounds of the bar became louder, indicating someone had opened the door and joined me out here. Lucky as I was, I could imagine who that person might be.

“C’mon, honey…” Steve’s voice had me freezing every single one of my muscles, as I refused to turn around and look at him. “You can’t pretend to be some innocent little thing while you’re wearing a dress like that.”

God, I wish I could puke. It was times like these where my pregnancy sickness didn’t appear and for once, I wanted it to. So maybe then I could paint his pretty face or at the very least, his expensive shoes in a pale yellow color and erase that smug look on his face.

I didn’t even have to look to know it was there.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“You know, I could get used to seeing your skin this exposed…” I stopped dead on my tracks behind the couple I’d followed into the back exit. I’d looked for her everywhere ever since I arrived, she had to be there or I would start to think she had been playing a prank on me.

But seeing Y/N didn’t bring the relief I was expecting, because there was a man with her. And I didn’t know why the sight made my blood boil, but it did. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and so I stayed back in the shadows, contemplating just turning around and going back to my car, but I wanted to be sure of what was actually going on.

“It makes me think about what you’d look like naked.” I saw her shook her head, back still turned to the man behind her (and to me), but then his hands reached out and captured her waist, and I saw her flinch. 

“You look so hot, I want to take you right here in this back alley…”

“Steve, let me go.” At the sound of the disgust in her voice, I sprung into action, barely processing my own feelings or noticing how she was squirming in his hands as I hauled his body from hers. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I asked the guy, chest already heaving from anger. Beside me, Y/N looked scared, obviously startled at seeing me, and especially in this state. But I was too far gone to care.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” If I wasn’t so angry, maybe I would have considered the next words that fell from my lips. But my track record wasn’t the best, even in a calm mindset, so not even I believed I would have been able to hold back.

“I’m her man. She’s mine and she’s having my baby, so how about you back off?” A cold hand wrapped around my wrist had me snapping back into reality, looking down to see her staring at me with wide eyes. Oh, shit.

“What is he on about?” The man yelled, this time directing his words to Y/N, who very patiently turned to look at him and say, “Would you care to shut up?” Finally, seeing as he truly wasn’t going to have a chance with her, he decided to leave, huffing to himself the entire time.

“Y/N…” I started trying to explain myself, but she cut me off with a simple shake of her head.

“Not here, Ransom. Can you drive me home?” I closed my mouth and stared back at her, a feeling of defeat filling my chest before I finally nodded. It was the least I could do, after all.

We walked back into the bar together, and together we went to say goodbye to her friend, to whom she very quickly introduced me to. I could barely find it in me to smile at the woman, too busy beating myself up for my behavior tonight.

The drive back to her place was silent. I was wrecking my brain for what I could say to justify my behavior, but couldn’t find anything. I’d failed. I’d apologized to her only this morning, and now I’d already screwed up again.

Why should she want me around? I wasn’t even capable of being a good friend, much less an actual co-parent with her. How could she rely on me if I kept letting my most immature instincts take over?

I stopped the car in front of her building, still struggling with what to say, but to my surprise, she didn’t make any immediate movements towards leaving. It seemed as if she was lost in her thoughts too, and the idea that I might have the chance to change this gave me just the push I needed to say something.

“I’m sorry,” I spilled out, and her eyes darted up to meet mine, slightly wider than usual. “For overstepping. I-I don’t know what happened. I just saw you with him and you looked scared and I… God, you must hate me right now.”

I had to cover my face so I could concentrate, I could feel a headache coming. But just when all seemed lost,  I felt a warm hand over my thigh, squeezing the muscle, calling for my attention.

“It’s alright, Ransom. This is new for me too.” I didn’t know relief could feel this relaxing. Finally finding the courage to look her in the eyes again, I chanced a small smile that she quickly reciprocated, her hand still connecting us.

“I- It was actually really nice to hear your voice when I thought I’d have to scream for help. You did good, you were… you were very good back there. Thank you.” Silence fell between us once again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. For my part, I seemed to have forgotten how to speak. But she didn’t remain quiet for long.

“I just think we have to talk about what you said…” And that was all I needed to jump into explanation mode again.

“I know, I know. I don’t know why I said it. I didn’t mean it, obviously.” And to my surprise, she just smiled, not seeming bothered in the slightest by what I had done earlier that night.

“Believe it or not, I understand. I know I seem quick to jump into conclusions and that hasn’t been a good thing for our relationship so far… but this time I understand where you’re coming from.” It was a good thing that she did, I realized as she let go of my thigh to reach out for my hand instead. Because I had absolutely no idea why I’d said that she was mine. “But we do have to set some boundaries.”

I nodded, despite all of the confusing and conflicting emotions inside of me, starting with the feeling of warmth that appeared to be caused by her holding my hand. “You have to control yourself,” she continued, tone making it clear that she wanted me to give any sort of indication of my understanding of her words.

Deciding to hold back on the comment about how it was impossible, considering just the sight of her made me horny, I opted to go with a more mature, if slightly vulnerable response. “It’s not that easy… I don’t know how to keep those feelings in check. I’ve never felt them before.”

She nodded understandingly, and it didn’t seem patronizing. Before I could further clarify what I meant - or put my foot in my mouth, probably -  she filled in the blanks for me. “The feelings of protectiveness.” My mouth opened as I almost let the wrong thing escape, but I reeled it in at the last second.

“Yeah…” I trailed off. “Let’s go with that.” She frowned before her eyes widened in surprise, but then she started laughing, although shaking her head at my antics.

“You’re too much, Ransom Drysdale.” But instead of saying it in a disappointed tone, she just leaned over the console and hugged me, taking me by surprise. I didn’t even have the time to enjoy it, because in seconds she had leaned back and was unbuckling her seatbelt so she could leave.

“Hey,” I called out for her attention, wanting to get one last word in before she left. “You do look extremely hot in that little dress of yours. I didn’t have the opportunity to tell you before.” She narrowed her eyes at my words, but pursed her lips at the same time, like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

“As charming as that is, I think it’s a bit too late for you to try to flirt with me. I’m already carrying your child, aren’t I?” My smile dropped immediately, heart pounding in my chest with fear at her words.

“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I…” but she cleared all of my worries with a single cheeky wink, making me chuckle in relief as I slumped back against the driver’s seat.

“Thanks. I wanted to take advantage of my body while it’s still like this.” I watched as she gathered her stuff to leave, mind travelling to the future and imagining all of the changes she would go through because of this pregnancy.

I decided not to tell her that just the thought of her larger belly and heavier breasts was enough to get me hard. This version of her body, as hot as it was, wouldn’t be missed by me.

“Oh, hey,” she stopped just before closing the door, biting her lower lip as she pondered over something. “I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled for tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?”

The warm feeling that had appeared when she held my hand spread over my chest as I excitedly grinned at the woman before me, taking notice of the way she smiled back just as eagerly. I couldn’t help but notice there was a little bit of relief in the way she let her breathing escape after my affirmative answer, too.

“Text me the details?” She nodded.

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I watched as she got safely inside her building, before finally allowing myself to think back on the events of the night - and particularly, on the way I felt seeing her in that dress, being touched by another man, and talking about the changes she feared she’d see in her body. One thing was perfectly clear to me then: being just friends with the mother of my child would be no easy task.

[wizkiddx]

a father and daughter

I don't normally hop on the whole dad!tom thing, but this idea kinda popped up and wouldn't leave me alone. Hope everyone is having a lovely festive period and wish you all well in the new year x x x

Summary: Tom really struggles to get into the parenting thing, and finds it tricky balancing work and his relationship with baby daughter

Tom loved being a Dad. It had only been a couple of months, meaning your baby girl was still very much a baby - yet still he had no doubt, this was the best job one could ever ever do. To be honest he was quite regretting agree to the few work commitments he had started to ease back into too. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to go these months without work, which not many had the luxury of saying - but in this industry work agreements were lined up years before and he was never one to disappoint. 

Of course, as soon as you both had found out you were expecting, he’d withdrawn from the big filming project across the world but that didn’t mean he avoided the odd week of press, or a couple days flying abroad for fittings and meetings. By absolutely no means would you ever class him as a slightly ‘absent’ dad, you completely understood and when he was home did way more than his fair share with Amelie.

But Tom felt guilty and he felt like he was inferior to you in parenting ability. And you knew that was for one reason and one reason only. He did not have boobs. 

You were well aware that as much as you loved Amelie needing you so much and so often - sometimes being the only person able to soother her - was because all she wanted was to drain you of milk. She was clearly going to be a Daddy’s girl, and who could blame her when her Dad was Tom. But for right now, a mere 5 months old - she loved you because she loved your tit. 

The first time you had noticed Tom’s growing frustration was right after his first evening work commitment since her arrivel, he’d been on a UK chat show earlier in the evening and as encouraged by you, had taken the opportunity to have a few drinks after with his brothers and friends. By no means did he return late, barely midnight, but he did return just a little tipsy. You were still up choosing to have a little movie night to yourself, whilst Amelie slept in the Moses basket next to the couch. Just before Tom got back though, she had woken up and for no reason was the smiliest little girl. So when Tom let himself into the front door, he was greeted with the sound of Amelie’s little bubbles of laughter, while you spoke in baby language - pulling ridiculous faces and laughing with her. 

“Someones smiley” Tom laughed as he plopped down on the sofa next to you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arm round your shoulder as he smiled at Amelie. 

“Aren’t you Meelie? How was the show love?” You asked, as you held Amelie in a sitting position on your thighs so she was staring at you both. 

“Hmm it was nice, couldn’t make myself stay for too long though… just missed my girls.” His voice was a little rough, something that happens after talk show and then almost shouting over the obnoxiously loud music in the pub after. Amelie, laughed again at his words, almost taunting her Dad’s attachment to her, making both of you burst out laughing. She already had you both wrapped round her very little finger. 

Shaking your head, you passed her over to Tom muttering needing a wee and made a quick escape. Ever since you had her, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave her unattended - meaning you had almost made your kidneys explode holding in a wee waiting for Tom to get back. Yet as soon as you made it out the door, the bubbling innocent laughter turned into screams - but at that point you’d already made it out the doorframe - marking that as Tom’s issue to handle. Unfortunately the wails continued, very very loud and proud, and when you returned Tom was pacing slowly around the lounge with a grimace on his face as Amelie screamed into his shoulder. 

“I’ll stay up with her if you want.” You offered, knowing Tom without sleep and having to listen to her racket all night would have an impressively worse hangover tomorrow. 

“No I got it, think she needs a change.” Tom countered, even though you were pretty sure she wanted a feed, since it had been a good couple of hours from the last. He noticed your hesitance and shooed you out the room “I got it love, you’ve had her all evening.” 

“You know where I’ll be” You smiled lightly, leaving them downstairs as you got ready for bed.

It was after about 10 minutes of thrashing about guiltily in your otherwise empty bed, you gave in to the still continuous screaming. Amelie clearly was just hungry, even if Tom refused to admit it and bring her to you. So with a deep sigh you gave in, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and trudged downstairs. Tom was still stood up, taking gentle bouncing steps as Amelie apparently tried to deafen him. Once he saw you, with a defeated look, Tom offered her to you. Instantly, as if you just had the ability to turn the crying switch on her off- Amelie stopped crying and blinked away the tears in her eyes, whilst waiting patiently for you to offer her your nipple. While you were busy trying to get her to latch on, you just caught Tom muttering something as he trudged up to bed without so much as a good night. 

Then a couple months later a similar thing occurred. Tom had been away in New York for 5 days, a little press stint that he had under no circumstances been able to get off. At first all had been well but two days since he returned, Tom insisted you finally had an evening out with the girls - to be honest, after spending the best part of a week alone with Meelie you graciously took it. Oh, and also of importance for context, Amelie spoke her first word while he was away… Mama. 

You’d left that morning, your best friend taking you on a spa day before - so by the time Tom called you at 11 in the evening, he’d spent a good portion of the day with Amelie vehemently denying to do anything at all apart from yell- yelling “NO MAMA.” So fair to say he was pissed. You answered the phone with a soft smile, honestly finding spending this much time apart from Amelie really hard and guilt-inducing. 

“Hey Tom everything okay?”

“Um when do you think you’ll be back?” He spoke straight and to the point, clearly not in the mood for small talk. 

“I don’t think too long, is everything alright?” His tone made you so much more concerned,  now worrying that something had happened. 

“No no everything’s fine. Just… just been a long day.”

“Okay well I’ll be back soon I promise. I love you.”

“Yeh yeh um you too” He didn’t mean to be short. Nor to make you worried. He didn’t hate you - far the opposite, he hated how much Amelie loved you. 

If he was being honest, he just felt like a bit of a failure of a father. As a child himself, Tom had always been incredibly close to his mum and thought the typical rule was mummy’s boys and daddy’s girls stood. So why then, did his child appear to absolutely detest him with every look. Especially because, given the nature of his job, once Tom went back to actually shooting films again he’d be around much less - and that the relationship between him and Amelie would at least be geographically strained. Unrequited love is always the worst and ultimately most painful, especially when it involves your own child. 

This underlying and unspoken tension fizzled away for a decent amount of months and Tom went on his first job. At this point you were no longer breastfeeding, but still you knew that purely instinctively if Amelie was ever scared, upset or unhappy she would seek you first. It was bloody obvious to you that she did love Tom, she chuckled away like no tommorrow when he played with her and spun her round the room. And yet, you could still tell Tom wasn’t completely convinced and still seemed , just a bit aware and hesitant. 

In there ever needed to be any proof though, it must’ve been how stroppy Amelie got once Tom left. In short, for you, it was hell. You ended up constantly wearing Tom’s t-shirts, not for you but because the mild but lingering scent of him seemed to soothe Amelie when she was fussing. She would never giggle like she did when her silly Daddy was here to be her personal comedian. She had, however, finally learnt how to say Dada - which now she was shouting impressively at every point apart from when you tried to film it. She was a little devil, its like she knew exactly what to do to make you life as hard as possible - keeping you dealing with an unhappy Tom. You tried to tell him, when you were on FaceTime each evening - but no matter how many times you promised, it seemed that Tom had a hard time believing you. 

He was filming in Germany, which meant it wasn’t actually ‘that’ far from your London home and after two weeks he flew back for a weekend. You were incredibly excited- not just to seeing Tom, which of course you where; but also ,hopefully, for him to feel some sort of assurance in his ability as a parent. He needed to see her, Amelie needed her Daddy and you… you needed a rest. 

That evening, you had had her balanced on your hip as you rushed to make the house look somewhat presentable (because single parenting was not easy) but Amelie had thrown a fit so with a slightly immature passive aggressive comment to your 11 month old daughter you put her on her play mat and carried on. It was a bit of a risk if you were quite honest, she was more than just a crawler - she perfected the art of bum shuffling and was starting to on occasion try to stand up. But you were in the same room so surely little harm could come to her in the ‘over-the-top-ly’ baby proofed living room - Tom’s doing of course. 

So keeping one eye on Amelie and the other on the almost terrifyingly big stack of discarded toys you set about tidying up. It was all going swimmingly until your thoughts about how on earth you were going to hide all the crap were abruptly interrupted with a garbled screech of “DADA!”

You instantly whipped your head round to watch Amelie stumble and basically throw herself the couple of steps to the doorway where Tom stood. You had absolutely no clue how long he’d been standing there but that was all insignificant watching him sweep you little girl into his arms, before she could career to the floor (headfirst of course). His eyes were bugging out of his head, as she giggled and laughed in his strong grasp before astutely throwing her head into the crook of his neck, demanding to be cuddled by him. 

It was almost hilarious, how utterly shocked Tom looked at the real life proof that his baby girl had missed him. Once he met your eyes he used the hand supporting Amelies back to point at her in a questioning manner, making you roll your eyes at just how oblivious and stubborn he is. 

“She’s missed her Dad!” You smiled, as you walked toward him and pecked his lips. “You got this down here if I finally get some peace upstairs?” 

Because yes, you’d missed your husband and wanted to spend all night wrapped in his arms. But really? There was a more important way the evening should pass, finally Tom getting his moment with Amelie. So without so much as even a ‘how was your flight’ you left the two in the living room - you making a beeline to the bath, for just a moment to yourself. 

It was perhaps even a little shocking to yourself that you were so confident you could leave them alone for the evening. Because really, if Amelie started acting up suddenly again, this could be where Tom’s confidence as a dad goes from ‘ropey at best’ to ‘non-existent’. Except you were so certain in the fact that just wouldn’t happen. If she was hungry she’d take the bottle from Tom (which she never did from you without arguement ). 

And so you had possible the most relaxing time in the bath - actually alone for the first time in two weeks. 

It wasn’t until you quietly walked down the stairs two hours later that you got a bit suspicious of the silence downstairs. Cautiously you peered your head round the doorframe and you didn’t even try to stifle the beaming smile spread across your face. Because there was your husband, lying semi-reclined on the arm of the sofa, his arms wrapped protectively round Amelie who looked incredibly content snuggled up to her dad at last. They were both fast asleep and the sight was just so sweet it actually hurt your  heart, meaning only naturally you had sneak a picture of them both. It was infuriating how you knew you had to wake him up - it is a little irresponsible to leave her lying on top of him on the couch and you kinda wanted to cuddle up to Tom this evening too. 

So with a gentle touch rubbing and down his right arm it only took a moment or two till he suddenly blinked his eyes open, eyes looking quickly between your eyes and Amelie - his grasp on her had instinctively tightened a little.

“Hey” You whispered softly, watching him notice how calm Amelie looked on his chest.

“Mhmm hey.” His voice was slightly croaky, probably from the exhaustion of two weeks of hard work. 

“You guys friends then?” You whispered while combing your ginger nails though Amelies little curls at the base of her neck - she was most deifnetly a Holland. 

“She did really miss me?” Tom asked, still half not believing as he shuffled up on the sofa so he was sitting more upright. 

“To the point she had me wrapping the pillows in your unwashed t-shirts.” You giggled as his bottom lip pouted into a visible ‘awh’. 

“Come on lets get you both to bed.” 

Without much complaint, but keeping her in his arms, Tom nodded and followed you up to bed. But that night instead of getting your way and having Tom cuddling you, he pouted until you let him lie Amelie down in the middle of the bed between you two . 

But seeing the way he grinned at her in the dark, almost fighting to stay awake as he looked at her, the prospect seemed a lot more attractive. 

And that was more than fine by you.