#HI FANCY TO SEE YOU HERE TOO THANK

[secondpersonpoetry]

you’ve probably already read it before, but the poem Party by Kim Addonizio really got me tonight. first thought was “oh man. yeah” and then my second thought was “how can i make this about my hockey guys somehow………..”anyway! have a good one! 

oh. oh.

​

[triglycercule]

murder time trio come back from killing some guy (me) and dust just pulls out a rainbow cleaning duster and starts dusting himself off. horror questions him. he says it's self care

[spencerreidenjoyer]

lovebird | spencer reid x reader

Spencer's little girl sets you and her dad up.

wc: 3.3k, rating: teen

tags/warnings: 2+1, kindergarten teacher!reader, single girldad!spencer, fluff, meet-cute, implied sex, use of "Y/N" because this fic would've been impossible to write without it oops

a/n: not sure what possessed me to write this, but i finished writing this in about 2 days lmao. girldad!spencer loml. thank you to my lovely friends over on twitter who fuelled my insanity. for this fic i have season 10 spencer in mind/later seasons spencer who's just full on daddy at that point <3 (also crossposted on ao3!)

Sunday

You’re at the grocery store in a ratty t-shirt and sweats, picking out fucking cereal when you hear the pitter-patter of footsteps running towards you, and a sweet, high-pitched voice calling your name. 

It’s one of your students, Ellie Reid, holding a box of cereal that’s half her height, and she comes up to you in the aisle. 

“Ellie? What are you doing here?” You ask sweetly, pushing your hair out of your face before you squat down to meet Ellie’s height. 

“My daddy wanted to get groceries. He said we would go together. But he had to pick up the phone, and I wanted to help look for the things Daddy needs.”

Her dad, Dr. Spencer Reid, is an FBI agent and a single dad to Ellie. He’s one of the best parents you’ve had this year – the fancy kindergarten you teach at lends itself to spoiled brats and uptight parents, but Dr. Reid and Ellie are a welcome reprieve in a usually stuffy environment. You’re pleased to see her here, on a weekend, but less pleased with the fact that she’s alone. 

“Oh, wow! You’re so helpful, Ellie,” you say, holding her arm gently. “I’m sure your dad is really thankful. But you shouldn’t have walked off alone. I’m glad you found me.”

“Why?” 

“Because it’s not safe for you to walk around alone in the grocery store, Ellie,” you smile. “Let’s go find your dad.”

Ellie nods, her cheeks ruddy and when you hold out your hand for her to hold, Ellie’s little hand wraps around two of your fingers. “Did you come to the grocery store alone? It’s not safe.”

“I did come alone. But I’m an adult, so it’s okay. You’re little, Ellie, so you should only walk around with your dad.” You lead Ellie down aisle after aisle, walking past canned food and bags of chips and walls lined with bottles of drinks. 

“But you shouldn’t walk around alone if it’s dangerous. When we find my daddy maybe he can protect you too!” Ellie says confidently. 

When did this grocery store feel so big? You can’t find Dr. Reid anywhere, and you feel a rising panic in your chest. You have half a mind to pull up the school’s contact information in your phone, but you hear Dr. Reid’s voice calling his daughter’s name, and both you and Ellie turn around.

“Daddy!” Ellie shrieks, almost dropping the box of cereal in her arms as she dashes toward her father. She almost trips as she closes the distance, thankfully landing in her father’s arms before she does fall. 

Dr. Reid scoops her up, holding her tightly. “You had me worried, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Ellie mumbles against her father’s shoulder. “But I found Miss Y/N and she helped me find you!”

“I told her not to run off alone in the future,” you say. “Right, Ellie?” 

The sweet girl nods. She giggles into Dr. Reid’s shoulder, and his hand comes up to pat her back, a soothing gesture.

“I’m glad it was you she bumped into,” Dr. Reid says, sighing with relief. “I wouldn’t know I would do with myself if–”

“It’s okay, Dr. Reid,” you assure him. “It’s not a problem at all. You’re– You’re doing a great job with her.”

“Thank you for saying that. I– I’ll see you at the parent-teacher meeting next Friday, right?”

“Yeah, next Friday.” You smile at him. “Have a good day, Dr. Reid. Bye, Ellie!”

“Bye!” Ellie, sweet girl, waves excitedly, her gummy smile overtaking her face. Dr. Reid walks toward the checkout, holding Ellie with one hand and pushing his shopping cart with the other. 

You feel how warm your cheeks are when Dr. Reid and Ellie are finally out of sight, your hand clammy around the handle of your shopping basket. You slap your cheek lightly, willing yourself to pull yourself together.

The way your heart flutters whenever you see Dr. Reid is a cause for concern, and you wonder if you should see a doctor about it. 

Dr. Spencer Reid is a marvel. He’s admirable, juggling his job at the FBI with raising a little girl all on his own, and he’s both a great profiler and a great dad. He’s incredibly sweet with Ellie and incredibly kind to you, which you unfortunately don’t get a lot, especially with the kinds of parents you deal with. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome: his hair is slightly long, wavy and messy in a way that frames his face just right, not to mention the stubble that makes him look that much hotter.

Your little crush on Dr. Reid is certainly inappropriate, but over the parent-teacher meetings and interacting with him when he drops off and picks up his daughter from school, you can’t help yourself from falling for him. 

Tuesday

Ellie Reid is a smart girl, that you know, but you're blindsided by her genius one day at recess. You’re monitoring all the kids at the playground when Ellie comes up to you. She has a contorted look on her face but she says, “Miss Y/N, I fell.”

“You did? Are you feeling okay?” You ask, squatting down to match her height. You look at her knees – not a speck of dirt nor a red spot from falling down.

“My knee hurts. Can you call my daddy?”

“Does it hurt badly? I’ll take you to see the nurse if it does,” you say, not entirely understanding the situation. You’ve never met a four-year-old who wouldn’t be in tears over tripping and falling, even if the injury wasn’t severe. 

The look on Ellie’s face makes you think that she’s trying to match your expectations of what she should be feeling. “It doesn't hurt bad. I just want my daddy to come pick me up. Can you call him?”

You try not to furrow your brow at the strange request. You’re usually trusted to handle any little accidents and mishaps with the children, but at Ellie’s insistence of calling her father, you feel like you should. 

(It’s certainly not spurred on by seeing him at the grocery store last weekend.)

“Alright, Ellie. I’ll call your dad and see what he says, okay?”

“Okay, Miss Y/N,” Ellie says, smiling at you. You get her to sit down on the bench next to you and your co-teacher to oversee the kids before fish your phone out from your pocket to dial Dr. Reid’s number. As you wait for the call to go through, Ellie looks at you with wide, expectant eyes. You smile at her.

On the third ring, Dr. Reid picks up. “Hello?” 

“Hi, Dr. Reid. This is Miss Y/N from Ellie’s school. I’m calling to inform you that Ellie fell on the playground during recess.”

“Oh, my. Is she alright?” You hear Dr. Reid’s voice grow concerned. Ellie looks up at you, and you look the little girl up and down one more time just to be sure.

“Yes, she is. I checked and she doesn’t have any scrapes or bruises. She says her knee hurts, but that she’s also fine. Usually, we don’t call parents over small mishaps like this, but Ellie insisted that I call you.”

“I see,” Dr. Reid hums, his tone indecipherable. “Can I talk to her?”

“Sure thing, Dr. Reid,” you say. You hold the phone out to Ellie as you put the call on speakerphone and tell her, “Your dad wants to speak to you, Ellie.”

Ellie is polite, but clearly excited as she yells, “Hi, Daddy!” 

“Woah! Hi, Ellie,” Dr. Reid laughs, his serious tone while he was speaking to you gone, talking to his daughter with a delightful whimsy. “Miss Y/N told me you fell on the playground today. Does it hurt?”

“No,” Ellie answers, but she looks up quickly at you. “I mean, yes. Just a little. It doesn’t hurt too bad anymore.”

You hide your smile, and you think you can hear the smile in Dr. Reid’s voice as he says, “Okay, sweet girl, that’s good.”

“Can you come and pick me up right now, Daddy?” Ellie asks, a little whiny. It’s adorable, though. 

“Well, it’s only ten in the morning, honey,” Dr. Reid bargains. “And I know you have art class later, right? Don’t you want to stay around for that?”

“I do!” Ellie says eagerly. “Oh, I love art class!”

“I know you do, honey,” Dr. Reid assures. “So, do you feel okay enough to stick around in class until Daddy comes to pick you up at the end of the day?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Ellie nods, even though Dr. Reid can’t see her. “But you have to come pick me up!”

“I always do, Ellie,” Dr. Reid laughs, making Ellie laugh along too. “Okay, honey. Go on and play with your friends. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay! Bye, Daddy! I love you!”

“Bye! I love you too, Ellie!” Dr. Reid matches Ellie’s excitable energy, and Ellie giggles before she runs off to play again. His voice returns to a calm but engaged sort of energy. “Well, that was something.”

“She seems fine,” you say, switching the speakerphone off as you hold your phone back up to your ear. “I’m sorry to bother you in the middle of your work day, Dr. Reid.”

“Oh, please, it’s not a bother at all,” Dr. Reid laughs gently. “I love talking to Ellie. She might miss me or something, if she had to fake a fall so you would call me.”

“Perhaps,” you say, slightly surprised that Dr. Reid would be so quick to call out his daughter’s bluff. Some of the other parents would rip your throat out if you even insinuated their child was in the wrong. “I’ll still keep an eye out for her.”

“Thanks, Miss Y/N,” Dr. Reid insists. “Besides, it’s always a pleasure getting a call from you.”

You don’t remember if you thank him before he hangs up, because all you can think about is Dr. Reid saying he enjoys talking to you.

After putting your phone away, you press your hands to your warm cheeks in an effort to calm yourself and your beating heart down. 

Dr. Reid is one of the last parents to come by during pickup. It’s a somewhat regular occurrence, with Dr. Reid’s busy and hectic job. You are never bothered by spending extra time with Ellie, and you know Dr. Reid always tries his best to pick Ellie up as soon as he can. He usually makes regular pickup so you never get to exchange more than a few words with him, but days like today aren’t necessarily rare either. But considering your interaction on Sunday, you’re secretly pleased with how it’s worked out. 

Only you and Ellie are left in the classroom, you having told your co-teacher to clock out first. You’re pleasantly surprised when there’s a knock on the door frame, Dr. Reid standing there in a cardigan and a button-up shirt with his dress pants. “Ellie!”

His hair is somehow more fluffy and messy than you’d seen him at the grocery store, but it just makes him look even more soft and domestic. You try not to look at Dr. Reid with hearts in your eyes as Ellie shrieks and runs towards him, Dr. Reid picking her up easily and swinging her around before he holds her tight. “Hi, sweet girl.”

“Daddy!” Ellie giggles. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you too, honey,” Dr. Reid coos, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie’s head. Your insides melt, gooey at the tooth-rottingly sweet display in front of you. “Were you a good girl for Miss Y/N today?”

“Uh-huh!” Ellie nods, her gummy smile absolutely adorable. 

“She was a pleasure,” you add. “Hello, Dr. Reid.”

“Hello again.” Dr. Reid smiles. “It’s nice to see you. Are you doing well?”

“Yes, I am. Other than Ellie’s little incident, today was thankfully uneventful. Thank you for asking.”

Dr. Reid’s face scrunches up in an extremely endearing way, like it’s obvious that he’d want to know about… you. “Of course. I like to know you’re doing well. It’s great to hear.”

You feel like you don’t know what to say to that, perhaps a little too caught up in your little crush on him to come up with a coherent response. You laugh shyly, tucking your hair behind your ear. Dr. Reid has set Ellie down, and she wanders around the classroom, fidgeting with the pencils on the tables, but doesn’t stray too far from her dad. “Ellie seems to be fine from earlier, but you might want to check in with her again.”

“I will,” Dr. Reid says, nodding. “Oh! I almost forgot–”

You look on as Dr. Reid fumbles in his satchel, pulling a crumpled paper bag out. The paper bag looks bulky, oil stains seeped through on the sides and on the bottom. “Oh, it looks bad. It’s good, I promise– It’s a chocolate muffin from this really good bakery near my office. I just thought I’d get you one. Since you’re so helpful with Ellie. Especially today.”

Dr. Reid holds it out for you, and you scramble to step forward and take it. “Thank you, Dr. Reid, you- You didn’t have to. It’s my job to look after Ellie, after all. Not that it’s a burden, or just a job, I mean– Ellie’s great. She’s one of our brightest, but don’t tell any of the other parents that.”

Dr. Reid smiles so bright you feel like you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I won’t, if I bump into any of them at the parent-teacher meeting.”

You bite your lip, smiling, shy at the attention Dr. Reid gives you. You think he’s flirting(?) with you, but you try to remain professional. You clear your throat. “Thank you, Dr. Reid.” 

“Thank you again, Miss Y/N. I mean it.” Dr. Reid asserts, and you feel your cheeks flush. “Tonight is pizza night, so Ellie and I should be making our way home right about now.”

“Pizza!” Ellie yells, giddy, causing both you and Dr. Reid to laugh. She zooms past you to stand next to her dad. 

“Thank you, Dr. Reid. I’ll see you proper on Friday,” you say, nodding your head slightly. “And I’ll see you, Ellie, tomorrow, yeah?”

“Bye, Miss Y/N!” Ellie waves frantically. Dr. Reid joins her in her waving, equally silly. 

“I look forward to seeing you then, Miss Y/N,” Dr. Reid smiles. “Bye.”

“Bye!” you reply, trying not to sound too eager, and then Dr. Reid ducks out of the classroom with Ellie in hand. You feel like you’re swooning so hard you might faint.

Friday

Parent-teacher meetings go smoothly, thankfully. There are parents who only bother to hear the praise you give their children, so ignorant to the criticisms of their children that you try not to make too obvious. After seeing nineteen sets of parents, Dr. Spencer Reid is your last of the day. You don’t want to say you’ve been waiting for this all day, but checking off the nineteen sets of parents before this has only made you more and more excited. 

Dr. Reid finally enters the classroom, two minutes early for his slot, but he’s alone. 

“Where’s Ellie? She’s totally allowed to sit in for these meetings too.”

“She’s at my boss’ place for a playdate with his son,” Dr. Reid says. “Actually, that sounds pretty weird, doesn’t it? My daughter, having a playdate with my boss’ son?”

“Not at all. They say it takes a village to raise a child. I’m glad your colleagues are so helpful with Ellie.”

“They really are,” Dr. Reid asserts, smiling. “Hotch– My boss, I mean– offered, knowing I had this meeting.”

“That’s really nice of him,” you nod. “So, about Ellie…”

“Please tell me you only have good things to say,” Dr. Reid jokes, and you try very hard not to swoon. 

“Essentially, yes,” you nod. “Ellie is such a bright girl, and she’s so sweet. She’s always helpful with her classmates and polite to everyone and the teachers too. Again, don’t tell this to the other parents, but Ellie’s set high standards for the rest of the class.”

“You’re telling me an awful lot that I shouldn’t be telling the other parents,” Dr. Reid grins. “You sure you aren’t playing favourites?”

“You certainly are my favourite,” you say before you can catch yourself, and Dr. Reid looks at you with wide eyes. You imagine you look equally shocked. “I’m sorry, Dr. Reid, I didn't mean to say that.”

Dr. Reid cocks his head, a little smile toying on his lips. “Miss Y/N, did I ever tell you what I do for the FBI?”

You have no idea how this relates to how unprofessional and inappropriate you are being. You shake your head anyway, too afraid to say anything anymore before you say something even more embarrassing. 

“I’m a profiler, Miss Y/N. I use psychology and study behaviour to catch serial killers,” Dr. Reid explains, using his hands to articulate his point. Your eyes dart down to the motion; but your gaze quickly flits back up to his face. “In general, I’m good at reading people.”

“Is that so?” You gulp. Is he able to read you?

“I don’t mean to profile you, Miss Y/N, I mean it,” Dr. Reid sounds a little apologetic. “But I can’t help but notice the way you lean toward me when we’re speaking, the way you fidget with your hands a little, the way you can almost meet my eyes, but you still seem a little bashful about it. I either intimidate you, or…”

“Or..?” 

“I’m sorry if this is too forward, but would you like to get dinner with me?”

“What?” You ask, disbelieving. “Dinner?”

“You- You’re interested in me too, aren’t you?”

“Too?” You gape, sounding like a parrot as you repeat his words, simply unable to wrap your head around the fact that Ellie Reid’s young, hot, genius father just asked you on a date. 

“I’m usually not too doubtful of my profiling skills, but beautiful women like you make me second-guess if I’m reading this right.” Dr. Reid laughs, avoiding looking at you. 

“Dr. Reid, I would love to get dinner with you,” You say, trying to sound confident. 

Dr. Reid beams as he meets your eyes. “Oh, thank God.”

“Cheesy that you’re calling me beautiful,” you laugh bashfully, waving him off. 

“I mean it!” Dr. Reid insists. “And, um– Would you want to do dinner after this? If you don’t have any other meetings, of course. Or any other plans– you’d probably have plans on a Friday night, right? Way to be presumptuous–”

“Dr. Reid! I don’t have plans tonight. A dinner date sounds great,” you laugh.

“Great! Great, good. I’m glad.” Dr. Reid says, looking a little giddy that you’d taken him up on it. “Also, um- I love when people call me Dr. Reid, but please just call me Spencer. Do you think people would get the wrong idea if you called me Dr. the whole time?” 

You cackle, Spencer looking thoroughly pleased at making you laugh. 

“Okay, Spencer,” you try his first name, and it rolls off your tongue with ease. “Let me pack up and then we can go get dinner.”

“I like when you say my name,” Spencer smiles. “What’re you feeling for dinner?”

If you and Spencer kiss at the end of your dinner date in front of your apartment door, that’s between you and him. 

You pulling Spencer into your apartment with your hands fisted in his hair should also stay between you and him. 

It doesn’t entirely stay between you and him, though, as Spencer calls his boss to turn Ellie’s playdate into a sleepover before he rolls over to kiss you and take you all over again. 

[too-deviant]

strategic manoeuvre.

— WITH…ART DONALDSON!

contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios

You had never been interested in tennis before Art. 

You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else. 

But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway. 

You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire. 

Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis. 

It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks. 

You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa. 

“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for. 

Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning. 

(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).

It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits. 

“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”

We she’d said. As in her and Art. 

You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel. 

From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation. 

The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in. 

It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out. 

You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready. 

You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together. 

He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her. 

But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left. 

But.

But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back. 

You were evil. Truly. The guy was married. 

But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave. 

The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.

(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).

But tonight was different. In more ways than one. 

In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned. 

You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night. 

Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”

He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”

“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble. 

He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”

You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”

“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.” 

Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.  

The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out. 

Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing. 

“Lily likes you.”

You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.” 

“Tashi likes you.” 

You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths. 

“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”

“What?”

“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?” 

“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.” 

“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.” 

“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.” 

He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it. 

The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car. 

But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal. 

“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”

Out of all the things… 

“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards. 

“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”

“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now. 

He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face. 

“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”

“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth. 

He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you. 

You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes. 

“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning. 

Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”

Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”

He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far. 

You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own. 

His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair. 

When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches. 

You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it. 

Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared. 

You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up. 

Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours. 

“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.” 

(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).

divider by @cafekitsune !!

[omgeto]

☆ SNEAKY LINK — dad's best friend!TOJI FUSHIGURO

summary: your dad didn't even need to tell you that his best friend was off limits, but you just couldn't help yourself. and on another visit home from university, he's the first person you get your hands on.

wc: 4.2k. (major slay from me)

cw: afab!reader, semi public sex, you fuck in a car, outside, he fingers you at the table, and eats you out in your childhood room <33 slight breeding kink, + your dad is clueless poor man so MDNI

an: was s'posed to write this yesterday but it didn't show up in the tags, so hopefully you guys can see this now and give it some love. never really done long smut before so give it a chance people!! fanks @kazushawty for beta'ing some, this is for you

there was always something about your dad’s best friend, toji fushiguro, that you just couldn’t ignore. your dad had loads of friends throughout the years, and you never batted an eyelid. so when your dad brought toji to dinner for the first time, you couldn’t just disregard the way he looked, more importantly how he looked at you—making you end up sucking his dick in the bathroom of your family home, before dessert was even served.

you were away at university, making your little ‘relationship’ with toji a fleeting one, but best believe whenever you touched your home city, toji always found a way to touch you. “so you manage to find y’self a boyfriend, up at that fancy uni of yours?” toji asks, a sly grin playing on his lips, as he starts the car, pulling out of the train station parking lot.

“no, none of them are to my taste,” you respond shortly, trying to keep your composure, and maintain your focus on anything but him. you knew why he was asking, just so he could feel his pride swell when you say no. since he was always quick to remind you whenever you fucked that after being with him you woulnd’t want a dumb little college boy—and he was right.

“aww that's too bad,” he mocks, his hand easing its way onto your thigh as if it’s nothing, “a pretty thing like you, should be basking in boys.” you roll your eyes at his teasing, but you can’t ignore the slight quickening of your heart as his hand gives your thigh a light squeeze.

you both pretend as if you aren’t fucking eachother anytime your dad was around, it was easier to keep up the facade that way. neither of you wanted to hurt your dad, toji actually enjoyed his friendship and would never want to hurt his ‘oh so precious daughter.’’ but when he pictures how your tits bounce and how your ass shakes whenever he drives his dick into you, he was okay with losing a friendship if that meant he could continue to fuck you.

the rest of the ride was a comfortable silence, there was no more small talk, just the faded hum of the radio and your thoughts racing as toji’s hand remains on you. you were finally parked in the driveway of your home, “thanks for the ride home fushiguro,” you mumble, ready to leave his car. 

“fushiguro? were you not calling me toji last time you saw me?” he questions puzzled, his hand laying on your arm — stopping you from exiting the car, as his mouth comes up to your ear, “ whilst i was stuffing you full with my dick?”

“can we not do this here?” you grit out, trying not to react to the feeling of his touch, you look around the driveway and see your dads car parked right in front of toji’s. “my dad’s home.”

“so?” he shrugs, tugging against your clothes, “c’mon you know you wanna give me a little something before i leave.” you roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be fucking your dad’s oldest friend — especially not when he’s only ten metres away. but the look that toji gives you, the lustful glint in his eyes, and the way his thick fingers toy with the hem of your jeans, you just couldn’t say no.

“make it quick,” you whisper, looking around your surroundings before pouncing on toji. the windows of his car weren’t tinted, but your neighbourhood is a quiet one, so as long he fucked you swiftly, you shouldn’t get caught.

“i don’t know why you’ve got this pouty look on your face,” he smirks, watching as you eagerly get yourself out of jeans, not fully, but just enough so that you could slide right onto his dick. “you want this just as bad as i do, don’t you?”

you didn’t bother responding, letting the way your pussy clenches around his throbbing member, be the answer to his question. there's a shared moan between you, with toji throwing his head back onto the headrest as he watches you ride him. his hands grip onto your ass, aiding you in bouncing up and down on his dick.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, his hand moving up off of your ass to lightly grip your chin as he directs your mouth to his. he kisses you sensually, the slow pace matching the rhythm of your ass grinding against him. your arms snake their way around his neck, your hands stroking the hair that falls just above his nape. 

“f-fuck,” you moan against his mouth, your boobs press against his chest as he thrust into you deeper. he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing your increasing screams, as his hips dig into your ass further. 

“y’better quiet down princess,” he mocks, pressing a quick peck to your lips, his smirk growing wider as he watches you chase his mouth, whimpering to have more of him. “you don’t want your daddy to hear us and come outside d’ya?”

“‘don’t care,” you whine, rutting your hips down against him, wanting him to stuff you full, to fuck you hard, not caring about who hears or sees you.

“oh you don’t care do you?” he continues to taunt, his fingers roaming across your chest — toying with the buttons of your shirt. and as you nod to his question, your pussy clenching down around his dick achingly, he grins, “get out of the car.”

“what?” you pause, trying to register if you’ve heard him correctly.

“you heard me,” he shrugs, his hands going to your hips to take you off your dick, “get out of the car, and lean right up against the hood for me.”

“you’re joking right?” you scoff, staring at him in shock, but his gaze is locked with yours without faltering, oh he was serious alright. “but what about my da—”

“what about him? you didn’t care about him seeing us a second again when you were slutting yourself out on my dick did you,” he continues to taunt, his thumb rubbing against your aching clit, toying with the folds of your soaking pussy — persuading you. “now i'm not gonna tell you again, get rid of the jeans fully and lean against the hood of my car.” 

he didn’t have to say anything else after that, the way he was playing with your pussy reminded you of what need. so you quickly get rid of your jeans, and get out of his car, a giggle escaping your lips as toji’s hand collides with your ass. 

you lean against the hood of his car, your arms stretching against it in excitement as toji comes behind you, palming your ass before stroking the slit of your pussy with his dick. he doesn’t even give you time to breathe before shoving himself back inside of you. his hand coming to the back of your neck to push you down, as he charges his dick back inside of you. 

“you like that?” he grins, as he drives into you deeper, the squelching of your dripping pussy around his dick, music to his ears. you nod, eagerly, too dick drunk to formulate a sentence —content in just rocking your ass back against his hips ready for him to cum inside of you.

“t-toji ‘m so close,” you whine, begging for that final push so you could reach your peak, “please j-just let me cum, i-i need to cum.”

“i’ll let you cu—”

“toji buddy! is that you?” you both pause, frozen in place as you hear your dads voice from the inside. you scramble apart from one another, toji pushing you off his dick and zipping up his pants, trying to regain his composure as he catches his breath. you dive back into your seats, aggressively shimmying into your jeans, panicked. ‘fuck toji for making me take these all the way off,’ you think to yourself, as you awkwardly pull your jeans up. you check the rear view mirror, to try and not look freshly fucked as your father nears the car.

“dad!” you exclaim, giving your father a hug and sending a quit look to toji that reads ‘shut the fuck up.’ your dad returns your hug with a tight squeeze.

“hey sweetheart, was toji here giving you a ride from the station?” he asks, a joyful smile on his face

“yeah i was giving her a ride alright,” toji mutters, his innuendo going straight over your fathers head as he looks back and forth between you, clueless. “she was showing me all the new things she’s learnt at uni, and boy has your daughter learnt a lot.” he flashes you a wink, that your dad misses, and you quickly glare at him in response.

“oh she’s a smart one isn’t she?” you dad boasts, practically parading you off and toji nods in response thinking to himself, ‘if only you could see how dumb she gets filled with my cum.’ 

you swiftly exit the space between your father and his friend, hoping that toji just leaves, although you didn’t get to finish, nearly being caught by your dad, panicked you. you give toji a brisk nod as a goodbye, as you grab your bags out of the car but you pause as you hear your dad ask him, “so, are you staying for dinner?” it was going to be a long night.

you spent the rest of the evening avoiding both your dad and toji, you couldn’t trust yourself to be around both of them without letting something slip. toji had just as much to lose, if your dad did find out about your activities, but that didn’t stop him from giving sly comments and looks just to see your scared, flushed face whenever you thought he was going to say something about it. 

when dinner starts you knew you were going to fold, fast. toji was sitting next to you, but his gaze was fixed on you with a teasing glint in his eyes. his mouth drops to your ear as he whispers, “doesn’t this remind you of when we first met? you teasing me all night before dropping on your knees for me in the bathroom upstairs.”

“what are you two gossiping about over there?” your dad asks as he enters the room with your food, and you immediately tense up hearing his voice, shifting away from toji to not give yourself away.

“oh i was just reminding her about when we first met at dinner all those years ago,” toji responded quickly, his composure kept cool as if he wasn’t just talking about you sucking his dick minutes ago. “a lot has changed since then.”

“yeah, my baby has really grown up and matured since then, haven't you?” your dad coos at you and you give toji a subtle elbow to his stomach under the table. but toji just can’t let up, enjoying your jumpy vibe a bit too much.

he nods in agreement with your dad, “yeah she’s really become a woman, right under our eyes.” he taunts, and only you knew that he was referring to how he felt that your body was built just for him. toji loved every inch of you, your face, tits and ass was a complete package that he just couldn’t get enough of. 

unbeknownst to your dad, toji’s hand slips underneath the table and right into your pants. your eyes cut towards his, and he the subtle raise of his eyebrow tells you he’s not gonna stop —and you weren’t planning on trying to stop him. 

you open your legs wider, to grant him further access, smiling along at your dad as he cluelessly babbles on to the both of you. toji was both attentive to the conversation and to your pussy. to anyone else it wouldn’t look like his fingers were curling up inside of you, your cunt coating his fingers as he slowly drives them into you.

as dinner continues, your hands remain clenched on your cutlery as you try and distract yourself from the growing feeling you were getting as toji rubs your pussy. he was casual about it too, laughing and joking with your dad as if his fingers weren’t getting drenched.

you were trying so hard to not ride his fingers in your seat, to not let your father see you getting slutted out by his best friend right in front of him. the thickness of his fingers were stretching your pussy wider, and his pace was achingly slow, to sensual for the burning desire you’ve been craving for him all day. but there is nothing you can do, and toji knew tha. the slight smirk on his face and spark in his eye was telling to the fact that he was aware of how badly you need him, and was amused by the needy little look on your face that you poorly try to mask.

“so how’s that boyfriend of yours?” your dad asks you, his question snapping you out of your dazed state. you choke slightly on your drink since you didn’t actually have a boyfriend but you couldn’t exactly tell him about the special guy you are seeing.

“h-he’s…great,” you respond, your voice faltering as you could feel toji’s eyes burning a hole in your head. his fingers pinch against your clit, punishingly and your eyes bounce between your father and him.

“we should have him over for dinner soon,” your dad suggests excitedly, “so we can all meet him.”

“yeah sure dad,” you lie, hoping that is enough to appease your father. but it definitely didn’t appease toji, he swiftly removes his fingers out of your pants, and he sends your a glare when your father wasn’t looking before going back to eating his food—with both hands.

dinner was a silent affair after that exchange, there were no more subtle sly comments from toji and your dad had worn out all the possible stories he could share about you. so you finish your meal in silence, your pussy still throbbing hard.

“that was a great meal as always,” toji compliments your dad, getting up out of his seat, “do you mind if i use the bathroom real quick before i head home?”

“yeah my home’s your home, do as you please,” your dad grins at him, “i’m gonna go and do these dishes, it was good seeing you,” your dad presses a kiss to your head and gives toji a handshake before heading to the kitchen.

with your dad now out of sight you could now see toji’s face and he was tense, to say the least. he was standing in the threshold of the door and all it took was the raising of his eyebrows and a shake of his head for you to know that he wanted your ass upstairs with him quick.

he led you to your childhood bedroom and he was already toying with the posters of random anime that you had plastered all over your walls, “cute.”

“toji i thought we agreed to not do this in the house anymore?” is the first thing you ask. after you first met and made a mess of your household bathroom, you both agreed that it would be easier if you just didn’t fuck in your house anymore to save the chance of your dad catching on. but it seems after today, toji couldn’t care less.

“a boyfriend huh,” he spits out with a bitter chuckle, turning to look at you, “what happened to ‘none of those boys are to my taste.’” 

“they aren’t,” you persist, folding your arms childishly as you try and get your point across. he doesn’t even respond, just raising his eyebrow at you in disbelief, thinking about your conversation with your father. “do you really think i could tell my dad about the real guy i’ve been fucking all this time? ”

he shrugs in response, his anger settling a bit in knowing now that you didn't actually have a boyfriend. “i didn’t peg you as a jealous type, in case you forgot, you’re the family friend not my boyfriend. so if i was to actually let one of these college guys date me, that’ll be okay.”

“oh it would be okay would it?” he mocks, stepping closer to you, “so i’m just this family friend, not the guy you slut yourself out for whenever you see me?” you couldn’t deny that, so you remain quiet, your heart pulsing as toji nears you. 

he grabs your hand and shoves it right down his pants so you could feel his throbbing dick, “y’know i’ve been hard for you all day, after your clueless dad had to ruin our fun earlier i’ve bursting to cum,” his dick pulses in your hold, emphasising his point, “and now it turns out that all i am to you is just a family friend, damn.”

“i didn’t mean it in that way,” you say, slightly regretting your choice of words, “i just think it’s a bit silly of you to be getting wound up, at your big age, over some hypothetical boyfriend when all we do is fuck.”

“at my big age? the fuck, im not even that ol—” he stops himself because he knows he could say whole lot that could have you crying quick. “i’m gonna let you have your little outburst here, but i did not drag you upstairs for this.”

“and what did you drag me up here for then?” you quiz, his dick still feeling the warmth of your hand. his arm snakes around your waist as he presses you close, your tits rubbing right against his chest. 

“well y’know i’ve been dying to fuck you in your bedroom,” he murmurs, he leads you over to your bed, chuckling as he pushes you down next to your stuffed animals, and childish shit that you’ve kept. he pulls down your jeans as he kneels down at the edge of your bed, a wide grin etched across his face, “i’ve been wanting to keep you out of these all fucking day,” he says as he flings your jeans across the room. 

“don’t forget your dad’s downstairs and we can’t let him ruin what we’ve got going on can we?” he pulls your down the bed so your pussy’s closer to your face, he snaps off your underwear and peppers a kiss onto your clit. you hiss at the contact of his mouth on you, and his eyes look up at you, “so you can be quiet for me, right?”

you nod eagerly, clenching your eyes as his mouth suctions onto your clit, biting and nibbling at it. you hold your lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet, already gripping onto his hair to steady yourself. he’s barely done anything yet and he’s already got you losing your mind.

he drags his tongue down your wet slit, lapping up the sweetness from your pussy. you sigh harder, the grip on his hair only getting tighter the more his mouth works on your cunt. toji laughs as he taunts, “‘you’re just a family friend toji,’ yeah seems like it.” 

“s-shut up,” you pant out, clenching your thighs around his head as tongue inches deeper and deeper into your pussy, his nose pushed right into your arousal, breathing in every bit of you. “y-you are just a family friend.”

“whatever,” he smirks, watching as your mouth part as he plunges his fingers into you. he keeps his mouth on your clit, as two of his fingers piston in and out of you. you can’t help but thrust your hips up in his direction, aching to feel him deeper. 

“toji w-what are you—” you start to ask as he pulls his fingers out of you, just before you cum. 

he grins in response, popping one of his fingers in his mouth before saying, “you’re just too sweet y’know? come on taste yourself.” and before you can even respond properly, you were already sucking on his finger, smiling as he coos, “see how tasty you are?” 

he rids himself of his jogging bottoms, his dick springing out of them, hard and throbbing. “my balls have been aching to bust inside of you all day,” he complains, as he mounts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his back, your arms snaking behind his neck. “but you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“yeah please toji,” you whine, desperate for him to get his dick inside of your dripping pussy, “cum in me please, i just need you.”

“want me to cum in you yeah?” he smirks, as you shake your head, your hand moving down to his dick but he slaps it away, continuing to tease you, “gonna let me put a baby in you, right?”

“anything you want, just please.” you say, clawing at his back. but that’s all he needs to hear, as he shoves his dick into you with all his force, your eyes widening at the feeling. but as he quickly sets into a rhythm, you can’t help but moan out as his dick drives into you hitting the right spot, every single time.

he puts his mouth on yours to silence you, pecking your lips with kisses as he says, “you know you gotta be quiet for me princess, can’t have your dad hearing how im fucking my kids into you.”

“s-sorry i just c-can’t take it,” you apologise, your eyes rolling back as his lips move down from yours onto your neck. bruising and biting at it, with his teeth.

“oh but you can take it” he praises, “your pussy takes me so well, always such a good girl for me.” he bites back down on your neck harder, as you clench around him, the throbbing of his dick partnered with the gushing tightness of your pussy had him getting sloppier and sloppier with every stroke. 

toji’s hand slaps down on your clit, making you slightly jump up against his dick as it continues to charge into you. he tugs at your clit before swirling it and pressing down on it with his thumb. loving the way you gasp at the contact, scratching at him as your pleasure grows.

“f-fuck toji, please, i need to feel your cum,” you beg, and he presses his forehead against yours, as your hold around his back and neck become stronger. his dick ploughing into you with his unforgiving pace was becoming too much for you to handle, you wanted to feel his load deep inside of you. “lemme have it.”

“i-i’ll give it to you princess dont worry,” he reassures, stammering slightly as he could feel himself going to bust. this was his favourite sight of you, all fucked out under him, your eyes practically springing with tears as you beg him to finish inside you. it was only an added bonus that you were doing this on your fluffy pink sheets, literally right under your dad’s nose. “you’re such a naughty girl for this. what would your dad say if he could see you now?” he continues to tease.

“i don’t care what he’d say. i am a n-naughty girl. i wanna be your naughty girl.”

“yeah you are, you’re absolutely filthy,” he jeers, giving you his last thrusts before saying, “fucking taking in the cum of your dads best friend, begging to bred. not very ladylike if i do say so myself.”

“t-toji please,” you call out, fed up with his teasing. and he laughs before taking your mouth into his biting on your lip hard as he releases into you, plastering your pussy walls with all his cum. you do the same, your cum mixing with his as you release onto his dick. he slumps his body over yours, pressing kisses to your faces, satisfied as he thrusts his dick into you further to try and ensure his cum doesn’t slip out.

“ah, if only i could stay here for the night, i’d keep you plugged up with my cum and really get you pregnant,” he jokes, finally pulling out of you, amazed by how cum of his and yours ran down your thighs and pooled onto your bedsheets. 

“want you to stay,” you mewl, your arm stretching, reaching out for him.

“no can do princess,” he sighs, he actually wants to stay with you too, there’s nothing better then ending the night freshly fucked with his dick cushioned by your pussy all night as he sleeps. he presses a final kiss to your head, and grabs some wipes to get rid off the cum stuck to your legs, before leaving the room as he promises, “next time we’ll do it at my place, yeah?”

AN: So what do you think of dads best friend!toji 🧍🏽‍♀️ this was meant to be apart of a broader part of the sneaky link smut but then a little drabble turned into a full fic. BUT THIS ACTUALLY MADE ME NERVOUS TO POST SINCE IM STILL NOT FEELING MY SMUT SKILLS YET. But it shall come with practice.so yeah lemme know ur thoughts

[coquettepascal]

texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying. 

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes. 

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones. 

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does. 

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you. 

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to. 

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job. 

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together. 

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point. 

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there. 

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats. 

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute? 

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel. 

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable. 

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing. 

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird. 

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone. 

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars. 

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice. 

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath. 

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes. 

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer. 

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him. 

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself. 

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years. 

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing. 

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this. 

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks. 

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock. 

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him. 

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?” 

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either. 

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers. 

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering. 

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay. 

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you. 

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough. 

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.” 

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out. 

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

[evilminji]

"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy

He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.

Paulie's parents were PISSED.

Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.

And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.

So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.

But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?

Entranced.

In AWE.

Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.

But still, he's about to say "no", when?

Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.

SOLD!

It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?

Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?

Not even as Ghosts, man.

They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.

Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!

So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!

The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!

What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?

Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!

DO BETTER!

And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.

And it's one hell of Fake Hero!

A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!

Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...

The Town website?

Weirdly? Sanitized.

Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....

Wait...

Hey, guuuuys?

Are you finding ANYTHING?

And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.

All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.

But how about thousands?

Hundreds of thousands?

From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.

Not a meme.

Very real.

Not a joke.

The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!

Phantom is REAL!

And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.

Here to help.

A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.

A... a once living star.

And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.

And now? The weather!

@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Taglist:

@figsnpassionfruits @marcybug @sacred-holy-light @keigohawks @rockytheluver @parasiiite @iluvstrawberry @18lkpeters @daydreamin1220 @hoesformenotforyou @ninuwrites @chaoticpaintsplatter @red-jay @sweet1squash @here2bawl @silversprings-mp3 @leathargic @issylovessharks @serenewrote @jakegyllenbaalz @whore-for-marvel@cookiesandcreammoolkshake @what-did-you-just-say @demitralover @midnight036 @lanassmarty @sugarrushbell @kitomon @lysmeadows @halpin4 @rebelmarylou @jupitersiberis @ginamcflurry @dilflover-420 @blubobbi @midsommarmayqueen911 @popsickle1235 @jairmi @maxx205 @kmc217 @callmejod @bellaaa32 @suiien @whiskytoast @zeeader @jasmines-greentea @malfoys-demigod @poplottie @navs-bhat @argos-13 @marvelreadingarchive @krisslegacy @chassidypowell24 @godness-gracious13 @hpttsa @fandomsunited @sseleniaa @vampuck @veetallla @chasedbyatlantic @fluffy-anna @deaky-with-a-c

[wildestdreamsblog]

Might as well be drunk in love: 1 of 3

Pairing: OT7 x Reader (CEO AU)

Summary: In which your friend thought it would be funny to give you a love potion, and in which seven CEOs accidentally drank it.

Warnings: Love Potion, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: This idea came to me when I went to the mountain and saw a love potion wine thingy being sold there. I think it's just the name of the wine, anyway! I really, really tried so hard to finish this in one post but it's already almost 8kish and we aren't even near the end sksks Happy New Year, my loves! I hope you'll like my gift for you <3

“Am I that hopeless?”

“What?” your friend asked in faux innocence, blinking her eyes owlishly at you. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, sweetie-“

You glared at her as you pointed in an exaggerated manner at the expensive pink tumbler she handed you mere seconds ago. The tumbler was too fancy, something that you wouldn’t buy for yourself and something that a certain handsome but infuriating CEO of yours was fond of carrying around.

However, what was insulting was the content of the said tumbler.

“I just gifted you that because you mentioned that it was beautiful-“

“Do you really think I’d end up alone?!”

“I don’t understand-“

“You literally just said that you put the love potion you bought in the mountains here!” you hissed lowly, keeping your eyes around the conference room as your department waited for the seven CEOs to arrive. You attempted to smile which more or less came out as a grimace at one of your colleagues who looked at you weirdly because of your mini-outburst. You weren’t exactly meek in nature, nor were you shy. However, you weren’t really keen on letting anyone overhear that your close friend bought you a love potion just because she thought you would end up alone.

That was embarrassing, even for you. So nope, you would for sure keep this under wraps.

Her brows furrowed harmlessly, although you could see a hint of smile on her lips, “You’re welcome?”

“I’m not thanking you-“

Just then, all the seven CEOs walked in the conference room, their presence commanding and silence reigned through the whole room. The first to enter was Min Yoongi. He was strolling in the room with his hands in his pocket. He was said to be the ace of the group who could smell bullshit despite it being miles away. He honestly looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here right now, though. It was the complete opposite of Jung Hoseok, also known as the sunshine of the group. He was smiling widely as he greeted the department and some employees by their names, yet you weren’t fooled by his beautiful smile. He was the strictest of them all. He was perfectionist down to the core and he was the last to forgive any mistake. The last of the hyung line to enter was the Kim Seokjin, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. It was like the room literally lightened up when he stepped in, like the birds sang melodically the moment he opened his eyes. His tall form and his movement were precise as he confidently sauntered to his seat which just so happened to be beside yours. He placed his pink tumbler on the table, so eerily similar to yours sans the engraved of his name on his tumbler. The beautiful asshole didn’t even spare you a glance. Your back unconsciously straightened when the lead CEO, Kim Namjoon, locked eyes with you for a moment when he entered the room.  He was said to be one of the most intelligent man in the whole country. You didn’t even doubt it one bit. He was capable, and his leadership was on another level. Should he decide to run for a political seat, you would undoubtedly vote for him. He had what it took, you thought. He was charismatic, calm and he knew when to listen.

The CEOs were dubbed by the employees to be divided by two: the Maknae and the Hyung line.

Finally, the maknae line entered. The three of them could always be found together. Park Jimin, the eldest of the line, who had one of the most beautiful smiles you ever saw. In fact, you once overheard your colleague that he interacted with her once and it left her thinking of what they really were. He was followed by Kim Taehyung and also labelled as his soulmate. He was expressionless as he entered, only cracking a smile when he turned to Jimin. You always thought that he could be a model or an actor if he wanted to. He definitely had the looks for it. Last to enter was the muscular Jeon Jungkook, also known as the golden maknae of the group. There were no contracts, mergers or acquisitions that he couldn’t convince the other party of signing. Not only was he capable of everything, but he excelled in everything. Thus, his nickname. However, despite the way he held himself during the negotiations, you observed him to be shy and highly reserved. All of a sudden, he looked up from his seat as though he could feel your eyes on him, his doe eyes curious as he took you in. He held your eyes for a moment until he blinked owlishly and looked down at his hands in curiosity.

Kim Namjoon sat in the middle, the others sitting beside him as they regarded the room with a powerful look.

 “Shall we begin?” Kim Seokjin asked, his eyes focused on the slides reflecting in the projector. 

Several headaches, passive aggressiveness from Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, disappointed sighs from Jin and Yoongi, difficult revisions ‘suggested’ by Taehyung, and corrections of miniscule errors of calculations by Jungkook later, the meeting finally ended.

You were weary as you trudged out of the conference room the CEOs were still in. They dismissed the department, expecting revisions within the day after tomorrow before discussing among themselves. It was honestly not a lot of time and you could already feel the lack of sleep you and the department would further experience under their tyranny. You willed yourself not to fall asleep as you walked to your desk, your close friend who was equally tired as you sat down on her seat beside your desk.

“I’m so tired. It’s like my soul and all the happiness I was able to experience in my young life were sucked out of me,” she lamented, her head resting on her desk. “If only the pay isn’t so greaaaat. ”

You nodded at what she said, already likening the CEOs to dementors in Harry Potter. Interacting with them made you aged several years. Additionally, meetings with them made you reconsider whether you needed a roof over your head, whether you needed to eat at least twice a day, whether you needed to drink clean water-

Speaking of…this wasn’t your tumbler. 

The horrifying realization made you stood up abruptly. You lifted the pink tumbler to your widening eyes, and by that name there was no denying that this wasn’t yours. Your sudden movement awoke your friend from her own misery, yet you didn’t have the time to explain. Without any further thought, you ran back to the conference room, screaming and crying about how you were definitely going to get fired.

Of course, the elevator was under maintenance.

Of course, you had to run numerous flights of stairs.

Of course, it was just your luck that you ran into your manager just when you reached their floor.

And of course, the moment you opened the door, there they were, innocently drinking from a glass, the tumbler emptied as it sat in the middle of the table.

“Don’t drink that!”

Taehyung was the first to turn to you, his dark expressionless eyes meeting yours with intense stubbornness. He kept his eyes on yours as gulped the contents wholeheartedly.

Oh heavens, no.

He put the glass down with a resounding thud which felt like a nail to your coffin. You turned to look at the other CEOs with shaky eyes and it was apparent that they definitely drank their fair share of whatever was in the tumbler. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure if it was really safe for consumption. You were going to kill your friend for her prank!

Their eyes were focused on you. You couldn’t even blame them. You shouted at them all while looking like a lunatic with your disheveled hair and huffing breaths like you did a marathon. Oh wait, yes you probably did by the amount of running you did today. They were probably thinking that you were mentally unfit for this job and oh my God you were going to lose your job.

“May we help you, Ms. Y/N?” Hoseok asked you politely, his eyes never wavering from yours which was…unusual. Despite him being the image of kindness and approachability, he never looked at his employees for longer than necessary. He was a man that possessed such discipline when it came to his time. This… was absolutely an unnecessary length of time for eye contact.

“T-that’s my drink,” you finally said after tearing your eyes from Hoseok’s. You pointedly looked at the empty pink tumbler, not minding the intense look Namjoon was giving you.

“We apologize, little one,” Namjoon broke the silence, his deep voice awakening you from your stupor. “Yours looked like hyung’s.”

Little one???

 Jimin smirked before running his hand through his blonde locks. His eyes were on yours as he looked up at you. “Yours undeniably taste better, though.”

Before you could even blink, Yoongi pointed at you with a rare smile on his lips. “You looked thirsty. Would you like to go to my office and drink with me?”

Was that…an invitation?!

You felt a hand tugged your sleeve. You turned, only to find beautiful doe eyes looking up at you from his seated form. “Hi! What year were you born?”

“199x-,“ you answered absentmindedly, you eyes roaming around the room when he tugged your sleeve again for your attention.

“You’re older than me!” he gasped; his excitement palpable as he stood up. He towered over you, his grin pleasant and you thought at that moment that he looked a lot like a bunny, or a kangaroo with the way his chest muscles were bulging over his office clothes. “Then you’re my noona! I can call you ‘noona’, right? Come on, take a seat here!”

He pulled the chair closer and tapped on it eagerly.

This was wrong, you thought. Was that thing really effective?! You dreaded to think that it was and you had a certain someone to torture once you get out of this room.

You were shaking your head before he could even pull you and you watched as his expression fell. Suddenly, he looked like a child that lost his toy with the way he was pouting. And nope, you couldn’t deal with that today. You looked at the man who hadn’t spoken one bit before smiling sheepishly at him. You placed his pink tumbler in front of him.

“I apologize. I must have switched yours with mine-“

His jaw tightened as he leaned in. Heavens, he was even more handsome this close. Kim Seokjin looked up at you with his ethereal eyes before resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve been drinking yours since the meeting, my love. It’s absolutely not your fault. Mine was coffee. This-“ he lifted the empty tumbler, “-is, I presume, a juice.”

Confusion further painted on your face, “You knew? Then why did you keep on drinking-“

He shrugged his broad shoulders, “It’s…addicting.”

“O-okay, then I’ll just leave yours here-“

“Tell me, my love. Do you like your job?”

Welp, here it was. You were so going to get fired. Oh my God, how were you going to feed your cat? He had such an expensive taste!

“I-“

“Because there’s an opening in my office. Would you like to be my secretary-“

“But hyung, you already have one-“

“Shut up, Taehyung,” he hissed at the now pouting man before turning to smile at you as though he didn’t berate his co-CEO in front of you. Chaos ensued as the boys fought and bickered for who would be your direct boss as you inched closer to the door.

“I’m just gonna go,” you whispered and before you could even reach the door, Taehyung looked up at you with his sharp eyes.

“Where are you going!”

“I-I have to finish the report this week, right?”

Namjoon stood up before declaring that he would finish it for you. And when you shook your head, “I am officially moving the deadline to next month! No need to stress, my little love!”

You blinked owlishly before doing what was best for you and your sanity- you ran away.

“So, they drank it?”

“Are you even listening to me?!” you shrieked over the phone, walking back in forth in front of your cat that was now looking at you as though he wanted to be adopted by a sane person and not you. “I just told you. They all drank it. All seven of them!”

You could hear the laughter in her voice which was not helping your panic, “I thought you didn’t believe love potions?”

“I-I didn’t! You didn’t see how they were acting! It was so peculiar!”

“Well, honey, how did they act?”

“Kindly! And it’s so weird!”

She paused, her silence making your heart beat faster. “Holy shit. It’s definitely effective. I need to go back there and buy another one for myself-“

“Focus! Is there an antidote or anything?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandmother that lives there. I’ll let you know, but for the meantime, hold on very tight, okay?”

“What do you mean?!”

“Uhm. She said it’s very potent? I thought she was kidding. We’ll observe them tomorrow, okay? I’ll fix this.“

You were only able to sleep for two hours last night for two reasons: your work that you accomplished at eleven in the evening, leaving you six ample hours to sleep, and second, them.

Your phone didn’t stop ringing last night. You didn’t know how they obtained your number, and you dreaded to think that they used their position to direct the Human Resources department to give your personal number (yup, they definitely did).

You were about to fall asleep when your phone wouldn’t stop, and when you opened your eyes, you wished to all that was holy that you threw away the tumbler as soon as she handed it to you. Or that you didn’t choose the sit next to Seokjin.

You wished to God that your phone wasn’t blowing up now, but it certainly was.

Kookie: Hi, noona! Welcome to the Bangtan groupchat!

You squinted your eyes as the glaring screen illuminated with several messages from them.

Jwehope: Darling, are you a sprite? Because you've got the right amount of fizz to make my heart pop!

Jiminie: That’s so corny. I, for one, think that little one is a magician.

Jiminie: Because everytime I look at her, everyone just disappears.

V: Do you want to disappear, Jimin? Because I can arrange that.

Joonie: Ms. Y/N-shi, do you have a moment? I asked because I would like to discuss something.

At that, your trepidation grew. Among five, the lead CEO definitely held a serious tone. Did they find it as weird as you did that they were paying you attention? Did they trace it to that drink? Were you now in an even bigger mess than you initially thought?

You replied tensely: Yes, I am available, Kim Daepyonim.

WWH Jin: Why are you still awake? Beauty sleep is essential, my love!

Joonie: Great! I’d like to discuss the exponential growth of my feelings for you.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Suga: You’re all so hopeless. My Y/N would never fall for that.

Suga: On the other hand, would you like some Samsung stocks?

And that was why you never got to sleep peacefully last night. You sighed as you got on the bus. You opted to leave at an earlier hour because you wanted some time to think without the noise of the world and the buzzling movement of people commuting. You could feel a headache coming, but you prayed that it wouldn’t come through.

You should have known your prayers were seldom heard.

A vacant seat on the backside of the bus greeted you, and you were only too elated to finally sit throughout your commute. Peace, finally, you thought. You had barely settled in, barely breathed a sigh of relief when the once empty chair beside you was filled in by none other than him

“Fancy running to you here!” Taehyung noted in a deep voice as though this was not part of his plan, as though he didn’t wake up at a godforsaken hour just to ‘run’ to you.

You blinked, astonished by his presence. This was the last place you expected him to be. Hell, you didn’t even sure he ever experienced riding a bus! What the fuck was he doing here? Where was now your peace?!

“You-You’re here…” you trailed off, your eyes widening in shock as your brows furrowed in disbelief. You had foolishly thought that maybe, once they slept it off, then it would slowly be flushed out of their system. Oh, how wrong could you be. “Why?”

Taehyung smirked at you, his dark eyes taking you in. His dark hair was gelled up, his suit impeccable and without any crease in sight. He was somehow manspreading and you weren’t stoic enough not to notice the way his thick thigh was touching the side of yours. “I wanted to see you.”

“You’re so…honest.”

He didn’t even look embarrassed by his honesty. It didn’t displace him; what did was the annoying pain in his heart as the hours passed by and you weren’t in his arms nor his sight. He hated it. It felt wrong!

The other boys weren’t fairing any better but oh well, to each of his own. He may or may have also drained their cars of gas so they couldn’t leave. He thought that no one needed you as much as he did.

“I surmised that you wouldn’t believe if I say I frequent this path just for the hell of it, correct?”

You nodded dumbfoundedly as speech eluded you. His candor was definitely out of this world, and he seemed to not care as he only stared right at you.

“Now,” he whispered before tucking your hair behind your ear. “Now I feel at peace. The annoying pain finally stops.”

What pain?!

Before you could even ask him to elaborate, his head leaned on your shoulder.

“Daepyonim Kim-“

“Just stay like this for a while. I didn’t get to sleep, my love,” he answered in his hoarse voice, his eyes already closed as he dozed off. You didn’t know why you let him. It absolutely was not due to the fact that you felt your heart skipped a beat when he laid his head on your shoulder. Nope.

You managed to run away from Taehyung once the two of you arrived at the company, simply by practicing your non-existent ninja moves and awkwardly slipping out of the elevator just as the doors closed, his face an image of betrayal and panic. You breathed a sigh of relief before running out of the building. You still had an hour before you were needed, you for sure wouldn’t spend it inside that establishment or you would end up crying.

You were focused on your phone as you read real life stories of love potions. The sharing of stories kept on increasingly became more serious and scarier. You had yet to find a post about antidote. You weren’t 100% set on it being real, but the way Taehyung acted today was not right.

For heaven’s sake, the man barely said any word to you for the whole year you worked in their company. He had only looked at you before, and now he was outright going to you. But maybe, the other CEOs weren’t affected?

It was a hopeful thought, and you felt yourself smile a little- which of course vanished just as quickly when you looked up from your seat in the coffee shop to see Park Jimin sitting in front of you. You didn’t even know how he moved so smoothly and quietly. He was smiling at you, his head tilted to the side. His blonde hair stood out as the sunlight hit his hair perfectly.

“Good morning, beautiful!”

“Daepyonim Park,” you gasped both at shock and well, his beauty. His smile turned wider before he tried to hide it as he sipped from his coffee cup.

“Just Jimin, little one. I presume Taehyung- the bastard who will soon be six feet underground for what he did, by the way- already went to see you?”

You nodded, “He did…”

He scrunched his nose before resting his chin on his hand as he leaned into you. His pouty lips were protruding even more as he looked over his long lashes to you. My God, this man was so charming and his movements seemed so sensual. You didn’t know what it was about him, but you finally, finally understood your coworker who had a major crush on him for years based on one interaction.

“He’s so bad, my love. Did he tell you that he drained all our cars’ gas tank at two in the morning?” he asked in a conversational manner as though it didn’t faze him. His other hand reached to yours, slowly entangling them together and giggling a little at the slight size difference. He found them perfect and cute.

God, you were so endearing, he thought to himself.

“He did what?!”

He nodded slightly, holding your hand up to inspect further before quietly taking a picture of your clasped hands. You were so out of it that you just let it be.

“What Taehyung failed to account for was the existence of taxis. He only managed to anger six men, so good luck to him today. But enough about him,” he stated before looking into your eyes. Being the sole focus of Jimin was just too much, you thought. He was bigger than life, and his inherent appeal was palpable that even girls around the coffee shop kept on stealing glances on him. “I miss you so much today that my heart and head hurt so much, yeobo. I thought that I was going to die if I don’t see you.”

Your brows furrowed in concern before pulling your hand from him and you could have sworn you heard him whimpered. You laid the back of your hand on his forehead, trying to see whether he had fever today. He felt fine, you concluded, as you looked closer to see if he looked sick.

Maybe the ‘love potion’ caused these symptoms? Taehyung did mention experiencing pain.

You managed to escape from Park Jimin when he insisted on buying you pastries, and you in turn ran to the exit like your life depended on it. And perhaps, it did because you were running late. You only had fifteen minutes and the coffee shop you went to was not fifteen-minute away from the office. You were running like a lunatic, waving at the taxi that finally took pity on you. You were about to open the door when a large and tattooed hand slammed it shut.

You looked up in anger, ready to berate the man who did such a rude gesture when you recognized who it was.

Right then and there, and despite it being barely eight in the morning, you already met the entirety of maknae line. Jeon Jungkook looked like a badass with his all-black getup, his hands wrapped in motorcycle gloves, and his hair carelessly falling around his face. Despite all that, he looked innocent with the way he grinned at you, his nose all scrunched up when he greeted you.

“I’ll give you a ride, noona. Come on,” he stated as he gestured at the black motorcycle haphazardly parked on the side. You had never ridden one, and you didn’t want to start now. On the other hand, the taxi was already driving away and you could only look at it with longing.

You decided that you could afford being late just this once instead of riding with him. You were shaking your head.

“But you’re going to be late. I’m going there, too, so it’s no bother if that’s what you’re thinking-“

“No it’s just… I like to walk during the mornings…really.”

He frowned at you as he removed his gloves, “Didn’t you read the memo about tardiness, Y/N?”

“What memo?”

He was typing rapidly on his phone, “About how there would be 50% deduction of the salary should there be any tardiness this month…didn’t you know?” he asked innocently as he finished typing, his doe eyes trained on yours. Coincidentally, the moment he pocketed his phone was the moment your phone dinged.

“I don’t think that’s legal, though. I haven’t received the memo-“

You looked down at your phone, and there it was, an email about that. How could it only reach you now?!

You looked up in panic, and he looked at you with a hint of satisfaction before covering it with an innocent smile. “Shall we? I promise I don’t bite.” Yet.

He drove like a lunatic and you thought that you would really rather be late than experience a thrill such as this. Of course, it was only natural that you didn’t want to put your arms around him. You technically didn’t know him at a personal level and Jungkook did know that.

So, of course, like the intelligent man that he was, he only did the thing that made sense. He sped up, and he chuckled as your adorable screams reached his ears. Your equally lovely arms were now wrapped around him as they should always be and for once since yesterday, the ache in his heart eased. He felt at peace.

He giggled when you finally realized that this was not the path to the office, but in his mind, his other hyungs already got to spend time with you. Shouldn’t he too?

Jungkook helped you get off his bike, his eyes closely watching your expressions as you took the scenery around you. It was quiet despite the busy world below. The overlooking garden he brought you to was enchanting and it remained untouched by the quick-pacing world below. Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your smile.

“It’s even more beautiful at night, noona. I come here when things get quite overwhelming.”

You turned to him as the two of you sat down. He had laid his leather jacket for you to sat on, a true gentleman you would think if only you weren’t aware that he drank the potion. “The golden maknae gets overwhelmed, too?”

He scrunched his nose at you before softly pinching your nose, “Of course, I do. I’m only human. I was trained when I was only thirteen…it gets too much sometimes. But it’s okay. I like it, and I like the hyungs, too. That’s why I cannot get mad at Tae.”

“He didn’t just empty the gas tank, but he also hid the keys. For added measure, he deflated my tire. He only did that to me. Should I be mad, little one?” he asked with the perpetual charming and shy smile on his face. “Ahh, but I cannot stay mad at him. I do understand him.”

“You do?”

He nodded eagerly, “I would have done the same thing if only he didn’t do it first. You do make us crazy, little one. Why is that?”

It was an eventful morning, and you weren’t foolish enough to think that the rest of your day would be any different. You friend was still yet to be found as she was preoccupied with researching for further information about that potion, which she should have done before giving it to you!

You sighed for the million time as you stared at your food. You were sitting alone in the company’s cafeteria as you were eating your late lunch. The workload was just too much today despite Kim Namjoon’s departmentwide directive that the revision would be presented the following month. Your superiors did find it peculiar and thought that the head CEO was simply playing with them and that he would cruelly demand the output the next day. See, even his reputation preceded him, you thought. It wasn’t in his nature to be lenient when it came to deadlines.

The sudden gentle thud of food a lunch box made you jumped from your seat, your eyes widening as you saw that it was none other than the eldest of the CEOs, Kim Seokjin. Disbelief held you captive. It was an unexpected sight – the CEO, whose tailored suits and polished demeanor spoke of boardroom authority, now standing before you with a container of something that smelled absolutely delicious.

He smiled at you as he took the empty seat in front of you. He busied himself with laying and opening the numerous food containers in front of you. Your eyes widened at all the homecooked meals in front of you.

“I got up at four in the morning to prepare all these. I still don’t know what your favorites are, but we’ll figure it out as we go, right?” he asked, busying himself with putting food on your plate. “Always eat on time, little one. It’s bad to skip meals.”

“W-why did you cook all these?”

He blinked owlishly at your question; surprise written on his face. “Well, my love, I couldn’t sleep and I felt this stabbing pain by the mere thought that you weren’t eating enough.”

“You don’t have to do that-“

“So from now on, I decided that I’ll always cook for you,” he declared strongly before lifting his chopsticks with vegetables to your mouth. Suddenly, you felt eyes on you.

How could you forget that you were in the company?! Your head turned, looking at the employees who were all watching your interaction with the unobtainable CEO. They were whispering and you knew by the end of the hour, everyone in the company would know of this. How could you live once they had the antidote? You could already hear the rumors about how you were just for their entertainment once they tossed you aside.

You were about to stand up when Seokjin gently gripped your chin. He turned you to him, his beautiful eyes willing you to listen to him. “Don’t mind them, little love. Pay attention to me only. Nothing and no one matter outside us, okay?”

It wasn’t okay because none of this was real. On the other hand, the meal tasted heavenly…

---

If they weren’t going to get sick, you definitely would. You felt like you would collapse any moment.

The amount of stress was taking a toll on you. You felt like you needed to be on your guard, lest another CEO would ambush you. You were just human! And they all looked like they stepped out of a photoshoot, or that they were ethereal beings that decided to go down on the mortal realms. The way they were showering you with attention and declaring their attraction to you and the way they said that not being with you felt like a stabbing pain in their hearts were all getting to you, damn it!

You were just a girl.

And once this all ended, you were dreading to think of what would be left of you now that you saw them on a closer and more personal level. You wanted to think that this couldn’t get any worse, but it did as you read the most elusive of the CEOs’ email to you.

Hi, my little one,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to request your presence at a meeting in my office to discuss my growing feelings for you today at 2:00 pm. Your insights and expertise on this matter would be highly valuable to the discussion, and I believe your input will contribute significantly to our objectives of being together forever and ever.

Thank you in advance for your cooperation, and I look forward to our discussion.

Best regards,

CEO Min Yoongi

He had this faraway look on his face when you were led by his secretary in his office. His hands were in his pocket as he looked at the bustling city from his floor to ceiling window. His black long hair was sleeked back, revealing his stoic face. The dark suit he was wearing did nothing but compliment his form. You had never noticed how broad his shoulders were until now.

He looked like he was not paying attention, yet he turned around the moment that the door closed behind you. Min Yoongi looked at you for a moment too long that you started to shift uncomfortably. His attention was just too much, and you couldn’t act like you were no longer affected by any of it.

And from the looks of it, the moment you blushed was the exact moment his face softened. He gestured for you to take the seat in front of his desk. He mirrored your movement, now sitting on his expensive swivel chair. He clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany table.

“Daepyonim Min-“

He held his finger up, asking for your silence before spilling what you thought to be both outrageous and the most beautiful and heartfelt thing anyone had ever said to you in this life. “You’re beautiful, and not just in the way that you look. No. You’re beautiful in the way that the sun finally shines after a month of storms; you’re beautiful in the way that the waves keep on going back to the shore even after they were pushed away in the desire to kiss the sand; you’re beautiful in the way that flowers bloom after the unforgiving winter coldness. And that is why I’m giving you Samsung stocks.”

Confusion settled over you like a fog. You had almost melted from what felt like a poetry when he once again brought up his stocks idea from last night.

“I-I really don’t need Samsung stocks, Daepyonim Min…”

He looked aghast at your statement, before reaching over the table and holding your hand in his particularly large ones. “Call me Yoongi, my love. Or better yet, call me your other half,” he implored you and he only let go when you nodded in confusion.

“Also, nonsense! Everyone needs that stock, little one. Besides, nothing speaks more about my love for you than giving you all my Samsung stocks. And above and beyond, it filled me with this immense pain knowing that you’re just out there not owning any of their stocks. I couldn’t breathe with the mere thought of you going without.”

“Excuse me?”

And with a stoic face, he said, “Congratulations, little one. You’re now a millionaire."

At six in the evening, the head CEO finally made an appearance. You did find it peculiar that you had a fairly quiet afternoon after meeting with Yoongi. Your brows were pinched together as you were lost in thought when the elevator opened, revealing the head CEO. He had yet to notice you, his large and imposing form leaning against the side of the elevator. His eyes were close. You noticed that his white sleeves were already folded, his tie already loosened as his black suit laid on his thick forearms.

Kim Namjoon was the image of weariness, and you thought he looked quite pale. Your growing concern for him was what made you stepped inside the lift rather than running away yet again. The sound of your heels as you stepped in was the only sound in the elevator. You pressed for the ground floor and you saw that the floor for basement three was already pressed. Perhaps, the head CEO was going home now. Now that you were standing almost next to him, you only further affirmed how small you were next to him. He was already larger than life, and the way he always held himself exuded confidence made him more striking…and manly in your eyes.

The ride was fairly quiet, and through it all, he had his eyes closed. You kept on stealing glances, thinking that maybe among the other CEOs, he took in the least amount of potion. You felt lighter with that thought. At least you only had five men you needed to find the antidote for. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen the sunshine of the group, Jung Hoseok yet.

The elevator dinged, signifying your floor. You had taken merely a step when you felt a large hand completely encircling your wrist, effectively stopping you from leaving. You automatically turned, startled to find him with his eyes trained on you. He looked way too alert for someone who had his eyes closed for the past minute. You gasped when he pulled you closer to him as he pressed the close button.

“Daepyonim Kim,” you called him as you craned your neck to look at his draconic eyes.

“Leaving so soon?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a subtle mix of amusement and curiosity.

You hesitated, the words tumbling out of your mouth as he caught you off guard. “I... uh, yes. I was heading to the lobby. I’m about to leave for the night," you stammered, attempting to regain composure.

A playful smile curved his lips as he completely blocked the exit. leaned against the elevator frame, effectively blocking your exit, which sounded successful as the door closed. “I missed you,” he breathed as he took you in, his thumb gently running over the inside of your wrist as though touching you brought him immense comfort. “A lot. It was hell without seeing you the whole day.”

You blinked owlishly and you wanted nothing but to hide your face from the intensity of his gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. Instead, he smiled so gently at you, the dents on his cheeks making an appearance which made him more charismatic that you couldn’t say no when he told you that he would take you home.

But he didn’t exactly say which home because you ended up in what turned out to be the CEOs’ huge ass mansion. Your eyes roamed around the mansion, the high ceilings and the fancy marble flooring all screamed wealth that you didn’t even dare of dreaming to have. He confidently led you to what appeared to be a grand dining room. The room bathed in the soft, flickering glow of candlelight, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The delicate flames danced gracefully, creating patterns of light and shadow that played across the table. The air carried the subtle fragrance of the candles, a mix of vanilla and subtle hints of lavender.

The dining table was adorned with crisp, white linen, and the flickering candles were nestled in elegant holders, their glow reflecting off polished silverware and crystal glasses. Each flame seemed to dance in harmony with the gentle melody playing in the background, creating a soothing symphony that enveloped the space.

He pulled a chair for you, and instead of sitting across from you, he sat beside you. He chuckled lowly when he caught your questioning eyes, “I have been apart from you for so long today, little one. I need this to feel alive.”

You straightened up in vigilance that the other CEOs would show up. “Are the others here, too?”

He looked at you like you said something funny. The chef he hired today gently laid all the dishes he made, explaining about each dish before wishing the two of you an enjoyable night. Namjoon told you that he wouldn’t feed you any of the food he made unless he enrolled himself in a culinary school first, hence the chef. He waited for the chef to leave before turning his full attention to you.

“I shipped them off to Antartica.”

“You what?!”

“I simply said we were flying to Japan for a quick meeting. They believed. I lied. End of. So anyway, how many children do you think we should have?”

My God, you wanted so bad to lay on your bed and sleep the whole night. You though about filing for sick leave tomorrow, you were long overdue for a leave, anyway. Kim Namjoon was kind enough to drop you off. However, it was only after you promised him that you would talk about possible schools for your future children that he let you go.

On the other hand, your friend finally called and you were sorely disappointed to know more about what she gathered today. Her grandmother had to ask the other folks that lived in the mountain about your situation and it somehow appalled you that you weren’t the first to experience this.

It was, at the same time, sad to see people resort to this from loneliness.

Was an artificial, forced love and companionship better than being alone?

There were both an instant and quite a long-term effect of the potion, she said. The instant was mostly upon ingesting the liquid. Once they locked eyes with the owner of the potion which so happened to be you since she technically gifted it to you, then the immense attraction would start. You thought that this explained why the seven of them all acted that way in the conference room.

The long-term effects were what caused you to groan all the way up to your apartment. And right then and there, you saw what the long-term effects were. As you trudged up to your apartment, you felt the exhaustion to your very bones. You were looking forward to a hot shower in an effort to wash away the problems that stemmed from a simple prank when you saw who was leaning against your front door.

The last of the CEO, Jung Hoseok, was leaning against the door, his head bowed down as he clutched his heart. He looked like he was in unfathomable pain, his lips almost the shade of white. And your friend’s words echoed in your mind.

‘Prolonged non-contact with the object of their desires will cause them to be physically ill.’

You hurried up to him, holding his shoulders as you looked at him. You were crouched down in front of him, peeking up at his pained face.

“S-sir, are you okay?”

His chest tightened, his face contorted, a mask of agony etched with lines of distress. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, evidence of the intense effort to draw in even the smallest amount of air. The hallway fell silent, save for the raspy, labored breaths that escaped him.

‘They may try to fight the unexplainable feelings they have, and this will only cause them harm. In fact, if they go without you for a long period of time, their body will suffer for a long time.’

“Hoseok? Can you hear me? I’ll call for help, okay?” you tried to make yourself sound calm for his sake, but seeing him struggling, desperate to gasp for air was making you panic. Your negligence did this, you thought. You should have made sure that you were holding the right tumbler that day.

You were about to turn to call for help when you felt a hand pulled you closer, and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. He was still breathing hard, but you noticed that the shallow breathings were farther and apart as though he could finally breath. The moment you touched him, the moment you looked into his eyes was the exact moment that a wave of relief swept over him as the oppressive grip on his chest began to loosen. The moment that you called his name was the moment that the torment that had shackled his every breath gradually lifted, replaced by the sweet release of a deep, calming respiration.

“Don’t leave me.”

‘However, every interaction with you would only make their attraction grow further.’

You placed a glass of water in front of the man who now looked perfectly fine as though he wasn’t fighting for his very life outside your apartment. He was offering you reassuring smiles as he gently watched you. He was surrounded by sacks of expensive cat food, toys, and vitamins. And of course, your cat was only too happy with them, evident by the excessive purring he was emitting as he climbed on the CEO’s lap.

“I did hear that you have an adorable son int the form of a cat,” he started as he petted your spoiled cat. “As his future daddy, I would like to provide for him as early as now.”

You didn’t pay attention to whatever he was saying, and instead, you sat next to him to see if he was really fine. The paleness was now exchanged by a healthy look on skin. It was as though that didn’t happen.

“Hoseok, listen…the reason that you are all acting this way to me, the girl you didn’t even notice before this, was because-“

“Because of that drink, right?” he interrupted you, wearing a soft smile that conveyed he harbored no anger.

“Y-you know…”

He nodded before tilting his head, “I do. It’s weird, as you said. The thing is, all of us suspects the same thing. You, little one, only confirmed it.”

“I didn’t mean for any of these to happen-“

The soft look he had was now dropped, revealing the strict CEO that everyone knew him to be. “Regardless, little one. You need to take responsibility over your actions.”

“H-how?”

“You’re going to live with us until all of this fades. You’re going to take responsibility over us, my love.”

Part 2 sneakpeak, Part 2, Part 3 sneakpeak, Part 3

[disgustingtwitches]

141 as clients for sexworker reader!

//König and Nikto are here too//

MDNI

Ghost

You rarely see him, but you look forward to hearing from him. He always books multiple hours, sometimes even overnights. It's just hour after hour of pounding. Every hole you can take it. You tell him not to leave marks, but you don't really mean it. You know it. He knows it. Bitemarks and bruises are on your skin for days afterwards, he pays for you to send pictures of them healing. Thank God your regulars don't give a shit about the marks. Even if they did you wouldn't stop him from leaving them. Can't really stop him from leaving them. He asks you to wear makeup so he can fuck it off your face. You recently found out he's been stealing your fake eyelashes when they fall off, he collects them like trophies(???) Only praises you when he's felt you've earned it, which was rare. Never said I love you. Don't think he knows those words.

Gaz

Ugh, perfect client. Always a gentleman and really hot. Like "why are you hiring me when you can fuck anybody?" hot. Such a pretty dick too, has a little beauty mark on his shaft you like to kiss. He books three hours every other week just to cuddle and fuck. Really big on pleasing you, so he'll request you not to wear underwear just so he can pull your pants down as soon as you walk through his door and start eating you out. Sometimes when he really wants the "girlfriend experience" he'll slide into you while your spooning and watching Netflix. Has accidently said "I love you" once while ploughing into you, his lips pressed right up to your ear. You don't bring it up.

Price

One of the older clients. Big pussy eater. Huge. Likes to hire you to do stuff around his flat in a skirt and g-string so he can pull it to the side and eat you out while you're doing whatever he asks you to do. Watching TV? Cleaning the windows? Folding laundry? Sometimes he just straight up wants you to sit on his face, holding the skirt up so he can still see your face. When he's finally satiated, he'll get his. Sitting you on his lap and helping you bounce up and down, still in that skirt. Says I love you, but not to you. To your pussy. Literally looks at your pussy and says it.

Soap

So, so weird. Likes to act out scenes he sees in porn. Seriously. Like "help me I'm stuck in the washing machine" or "did you order a pizza with extra sausage". He'll buy outfits for the scenes; cheerleader, nurse, maid, even has a oddly realistic army uniform, right down to the boots. You get the point. One day he wanted to "try ass stuff", because he thought it "looked cool". He said I love you as soon as you stuck the tip of your strap-on in him and continues to do so every time you fuck him in the ass.

König

Yeah... Sorry to be basic but he's a bondage guy through and through. He likes to switch it up sometimes but he's mostly the dominating party. Not the kind to care about fancy shibari, really just hogties and knots that will keep you in your place. Taught you a few moves to take him down when he wants that. Wants you to use him for your pleasure when you're dominating, just like he uses you for his own. Doesn't say I love you. But he does teach you to say "I am yours" in German. So whenever he asks you a question in German, your line is always "Ja, Ich bin dein, Oberst."

Nikto

Very clingy. He was odd off rip. You were kind of uncomfortable with him because you didn't really understand him. Then he became endearing when you finally "get" him. He's sweet. Doesn't want to be alone. He'll pay anything just to have you sit next to him. Watching TV. He sits on the floor between your legs while you sit on the couch and play with his hair. He tells you lame jokes while eating whatever you wanted that day. One day you decide to tell him a corny joke too.

"We... don't think that is very funny."

Of course, he has needs. It depends on the day, but he's always changing the dynamics. Very much a switch at heart. He'll have you bent over the table while holding your jaw to look up into his eyes. Making you say thank you everytime he strokes into you. Other days he'll want to be rode while you hold him, "handsome man," you say between every kiss, "love you so much," while he whimpers under you, "you deserve to feel good." He says I love you. A lot. You say it back. Whether it's because you want to continue getting paid or you actually care about him, you're not too sure at this point.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Bedtime Stories Pt 2 | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: Daniel made a silly little comment that lost him everything. Over a year later, he tries his hardest to fix his mistakes.

Warnings: Swearing. A tiny smidge of angst but mainly fluff. Redemption for Daniel.

Female reader with various faceclaims (pics found on pinterest). Takes place in 2023. For the purpose of this, Daniel has been with AlphaTauri the whole time.

Main Masterlist

prev.

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28•05•2023

danielricciardo just posted

liked by redbullracing, YourUserName and others

danielricciardo monaco, always a delight. P11. so close to the points but racing through your streets feels like being on a podium

4,337 comments

landonorris and whose attention are we trying to grab with that sexy last pic 👀

→ danielricciardo only yours, mate 

→ User1 don’t act like you’re not dying inside because y/n liked this 

→ User2 relax, they never unfollowed each other 🙄

maxverstappen1 you’ll get them next time, mate

→ danielricciardo fancy giving me a tow?

→ maxverstappen1 never

→ User3 i love their friendship so much

User4 um, did anyone see that y/n liked and then unliked this post 

→ User5 omg yes! sis was caught stalking and we love her for it 

→ User6 i too would thirst over my ex if he looked like that 

kellypiquet we were watching the whole time

liked by danielricciardo

→ User7 what a weird comment to make?

→ User8 who’s we, kelly? 

→ User9 what does this mean? 

 

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04•06•2023

Tweet 1

User10 @ kikiki babe did you hit your head? is that why you were in the ER? they broke up

User11 @ kikiki maybe ask them to do a head scan whilst you're there 'cause ain't no way you saw here there

→ User12 literally. like why would she even be in spain right now?

Tweet 2

User11 i think we might have to apologise to @ kikiki

→ User10 can we really trust the wag page though? They did report that Lando was having a secret love child the other week..?

Tweet 3

User13 asking the real questions because she's not even hinted that she’s been writing so it’s not like she’s on a book tour or anything?

→ User14 some people are saying she could be on vacation but please, why would mother choose a holiday destination during a time that she knows is a GP?

User15 guys, guys, I think our sacrifice circle worked 

→ User16 please, please, 🕯️🕯️

User 17 how poetic would it be though if they got back together  during the spanish GP when they broke up at the spanish GP a year ago 

User18 shouldn’t you know these answers, and that she was in spain, if you're her so-called updates page

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22•08•2023

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others

YourUserName some big news approaching 

6,349 comments

kellypiquet i can’t wait, my beautiful girl 

→ YourUserName thank you for being my #1 support

→ kellypiquet thank you for letting me help plan

→ User1 what does this mean? 

→ User2 miss piquet stop being so cryptic on socials 

maxverstappen1 i’m very excited 

→ YourUserName did kelly force you to write that because i could feel the excitement oozing through the screen

→ maxverstappen1 i wanted to say something worse 

→ YourUserName i hope she leaves you

→ kellypiquet behave, you two! 

→ User3 i live for max and y/n terrorising each other, even without danny ric being around to encourage it

bloomsburypublishing we look forward to the end result

User4 i’m sorry but is this a soft launch?

User5 who is that in the last slide, miss y/n?

→ User6 the inspiration behind a new romance we hope

User7 don’t be shy. tag him 

User8 soft launches have recently become my least favourite thing

charles_leclerc are you perhaps writing my next plane read

→ YourUserName depends how long the flight is 

→ User9 confirmation of a new book ya’ll!! everyone say thank you charles

User10 i like to be edged by her books, not by her hiding her man

User11 don't try and distract us with news of a new book, we wanna know who the feet belong to!

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

01•09•2023

danielricciardo just posted

liked by maxverstapen1, yukitsunoda0511 and others

danielricciardo ciao a tutti. lovely sightseeing in beautiful Italy

6,445 comments

User12 you’re telling me that i’m currently in the same country as THE daniel ricciardo?

kellypiquet i’m still trying to recover from that hike

→ User13 kelly and max went on a double date with daniel and the new girl?!

→ User14 omg please be y/n. i can’t imagine kelly agreeing to it otherwise

User15 i know he's trying to distract us with his beauty but we see the last slide, daniel. we see it

pierregasly so you’re telling me that you were in milan and didn’t bother to come and see me? that’s it. i'm ending our friendship

→ danielricciardo i’m sorry, mate. i was doing more important things

→ pierregasly clearly ;)

User16 someone check on y/n, please

→ User17 babe is clearly having the time of her life in italy (yes, i'm delusional)

User18 does nobody find it odd that he’s posting a soft launch not long after y/n posted a soft launch

→ User19 i know! it’s only been three weeks since hers and he’s posting one

→ User20 i can’t decide whether they’re soft launching each other or he’s trying to make her jealous by flaunting a new relationship as well

→ User21 it HAS to be each other or i will die

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

15•10•2023

lando.jpg just posted

liked by YourUserName, danielricciardo and others

lando.jpg so i attended this event… and no, it’s not mine before you all freak out

8,223 comments

charles_leclerc it was a beautiful day ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux i’m so thankful to have been a part of such wonderful memories

kellypiquet the most beautiful bride i have ever seen

maxverstappen1 this was a nicer caption than i expected from you

→ danielricciardo agreed

→ landonorris i take offence to that

User1 guys do we think kelly and max got married? they’ve both comments on this?

→ User2 yes but so did charles and alex so…

→ User3 plus, i know kelly is stunning but do we really think she would call herself the most beautiful bride in 3rd person?

georgerussell63 i’m surprised you remember much after the state you were in

→ landonorris excuse you but most of that was just pure happiness

hulkhulkenberg an amazing day

estebanocon so happy to have been a part of this

alex_albon how’s the hangover, mate

→ landonorris i didn’t drink that much!

→ georgerussell63 tell that to the bouquet that you puked on

→ landonorris i caught it so it was mine anyway

carlossainz55 beautiful photos. she’ll love those

→ User4 who’s she?!

lewishamilton🤍🩵

fernandoalo_official congratulations to the happy couple

User5 the entire grid are commenting on this post, clearly having been in attendance. who IS IT?

pierregasly c’était une belle mariée

liked by YourUserName

User6 guys, y/n’s name on socials just changed from y/l/n to ricciardo

liked by danielricciardo

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03•04•2024

YourUserName just posted with danielricciardo

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName my husband helped with this project. baby ric coming aug 2024

9,550 comments

kellypiquet you will be the most beautiful mother. i’m so honoured to be part of this with you 💕

→ YourUserName stop you’re going to make me cry. you’ll be the most perfect godmother

→ kellypiquet i still think you should've married me instead

maxverstappen1 i call godfather

→ landonorris no you don’t get to call godfather! you already got to be a groomsman

→ maxverstappen1 yeah because who helped get them back together

→ YourUserName kelly

→ danielricciardo me

→ YourUserName no, babe

danielricciardo and before you all ask, no I haven’t stopped crying since she told me

→ kellypiquet me too, dan, me too

maxverstappen1 on a serious note, i am very happy for the two of you. y/n will be a wonderful mother, and daniel, he’ll be there also

charles_leclerc i am so excited. alex keeps telling me to stop buying baby things for you guys but i just don’t listen

→ YourUserName well at least you can safely say that uncle charl bought little mcqueen’s love

→ User7 uncle charl!!!!

lewishamilton congratulations, you two. y/n looks amazing

fernandoalo_official how lovely 💚

User8 omg it WAS their wedding lando attended!!!!!

hulkhulkenberg baby ricciardo!!

pierregasly congratulations. i can’t wait to be uncle GASSLYYYYYY

alex_albon welcome baby ricciardo

→ lilymhe it’s not an alien, alex. you don’t have to greet it so formally

redbullracing we’re all so excited for the upcoming grid baby. working on a racer stroller right this minute

→ mclaren you stole our gift idea!

→ redbullracing you stole our driver!

carlossainz55 congratulations y/n and daniel 😄

mercedesamgf1 what wonderful news 🍼

landonorris i’m just so glad i can go back to calling you mum and dad without daniel wanting to drive his car into the barrier

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Please don’t hate me for this! I did say from the beginning that Part 2s would be redemption.

I’ve had this planned and written since before Part 1 was published so when half of you then asked for her to get with another driver/move on, I was like noooooo I’ve already planned their baby 😂

As always. Requests welcome. If you have requested, I promise I’m not ignoring it, it’s been added to my queue

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @leclercsluvs @hannannannannannah @lifeless-firefly @sinofwriting @exotic-iris13 @imperfect-paragon @dan3avocado @barcelonaloverf1life @avillagesperson @hard4ndsoft @justzluv @laneyspaulding19 @danielshoe @chocolatefanunknown @redcrescentmoons

Sorry if I missed anyone!

[princessbellecerise]

Nameday Celebration

Summary ✩ Call it recklessness or sheer stupidity, but Benjicot is determined not to miss his lovers nameday…Even if it means sneaking into enemy territory for the night

Warnings ✩ Smut, oral sex, established relationship, brief mention of violence, fingering, foul language

The music around you was loud, and though it was quite merry, it did nothing to lift your spirits as you sat at the high table.

All around you, you were surrounded by the happy chatter of other lords and ladies that had travelled from all over to be here. Some of them even shared the same last name as you did, Bracken. But even though the evening was filled with music and light, warmth and laughter from your family, you still felt…disappointed.

You felt terrible, of course, sitting there in your fancy dress and feeling ungrateful at the ball that was thrown in your name—but you couldn’t help it.

People had come from all over the Riverlands for you, uprooted their lives and paid good coin on gifts for you, but none of that was what you truly wanted.

Your father had gone through great lengths to throw you this ball, spending coin that he didn’t have just to celebrate and maybe find you a suitable match.

By all means, it was supposed to be an amazing night in your life and yet you were so caught up in your feelings that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be thankful.

All over, you constantly spotted sigils from houses such as the Freys, the Mootons, and the Mallisters. Even the Tully’s had made an effort to appear but none of those sigils were the ones that you wanted to see.

None of those sigils belonged to him.

Admittedly, you knew that you were a fool to ever think that he’d show up here. Your father would have sooner died than invite a Blackwood into his home, let alone have one around his daughter.

It was a feeble thought, and it was stupid of you to even be upset. Of course Benji would not show up your nameday celebration. You had known that ever since it was announced.

Your lover himself had told you that as much as he wanted to, there was just no way for him to celebrate your nameday with you. He sure as hell wasn’t invited and it would be too risky and too bloody to just show up unannounced.

The chaos that would ensue if a band of Blackwoods showed up would ruin your nameday for certain. And as much as you wanted to see him, you understood that his absence was for the best.

Still though, the feeling of disappointment had its grip on you.

You tried to act normal and you tried to make it seem like you weren’t utterly gutted, but you knew that your emotions had spilled out anyways. You were quiet and withdrawn, choosing to stay at the high table in the seat of honor rather than get up and dance with every one else.

You had chosen to sip on your wine rather than prance around with a man you didn’t care about.

You knew it was petty, but if your father wanted to be petty as well and not invite the Blackwoods, then you vowed not dance with anyone other than Benji.

It was problematic, seeing you were the guest of honor and you had declined many lords already, but you held fast. Each and every man that came to your table was turned away, to the displeasure of your father.

His ulterior motives of trying to find you a husband were not as discreet as he thought them to be. Every time the word ‘no,’ left your lips to a potential match, his lips pressed into a thinner and thinner line.

His patience with you was slowly running out.

Even though others might not have picked up on your sullen mood, he did. You were your father’s daughter after all. It was easy enough for him to tell that something was wrong, and whatever it was, he wasn’t happy about it.

After making sure that the coast was clear and that was no one was listening, he leaned in and addressed you with distain in his voice.

“Is something the matter with the celebration, Y/N?” He asked tightly.

His eyes, similar to yours, bore into you from behind his mask. Curiosity along with annoyance could be seen pooling inside them.

The answer that you had been mentally rehearsing all night finally had its chance to slip out.

“No father. Nothing is wrong with the celebration. Everything you have done for me is beautiful and much appreciated.”

Your father clenched his jaw as you took a sip of your wine, trying your best to avoid his heated stare.

“Is that so?” A small scoff left his lips. “Then why is it that you refuse to act the least bit of happy?”

You swallowed as your mind flickered to Benji. You were grateful that your mother had insisted on a masquerade ball, and that your mask was big enough to cover your face. If it didn’t, you feared you’d give much more than you wanted to away.

“I’m not…unhappy, father,” A sigh left your lips as you looked to the dance floor. Your eyes lingered on all of the couples who got to dance freely. On all of the ladies that got to be with who they wanted to without it ending in a bloody civil war.

Involuntarily, envy pooled in your chest.

“I’m just..tired, that’s all,” You continued, hoping your lie was enough.

It wasn’t.

Another scoff could be heard from your father as his chair scraped. From beside you, on your left, your mother looked on worriedly as he hissed.

“Tired? How can you be tired, daughter, when you have not even bothered to grace the dance floor?”

Silence was heard on your part as you swallowed again. You kept your eyes in front of you for fear that you’d say something to make him angrier. It wasn’t your intentions to get into it with your family, not tonight, so you kept your eyes straight and your mouth shut.

You focused on the many people on the dance floor as your father simply shook his head, mumbling about how ungrateful his daughter was.

Your mother simply gave you a disappointed look, but you ignored them both as something caught your attention.

At first, you thought that you imagined it. A simple trick of the light perhaps, or maybe you just had too much wine, but you could have sworn that you saw a flash of black, accompanied by broad shoulders and wide, gleaming eyes.

Your gaze became locked onto the stranger that bared these traits, so familiar to you but so far away. With your heart hammering in your chest, you watched as he made his way onto the dance floor. You couldn’t see him yet, not properly anyways. He was still hidden behind the horde of people all crowded together. Hiding behind the multitude of dancers and weaving in and out of the crowd.

It took all you had to keep your gaze on him and not look away. You couldn’t lose him. Not until he got closer. Not until you were sure.

For now, you were stuck following his movements with care, watching as he came closer, and closer, until finally…

Your heart stopped.

You weren’t sure if it was the wine or if you truly were hallucinating as your eyes locked with his, Benji coming to stand right in front of the high table. Beside him were two other men, all bare of any sigils and hidden under masks. But they were there. They were…

No, no.

It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t dare.

…Would he?

You started to doubt yourself. Telling yourself that there was no way that it could be him. It was too much of a risk. It was too dangerous for him to even consider such a thing…

But then he began to smile. That damned smile that you would recognize anywhere, under a mask or not. That and his eyes. You knew those eyes. That wide-eyed, crazed stare that often sent your heartbeat racing through your chest.

You knew them like the back of your hand. And sure enough, as you stared into the crowd, looking directly into those eyes, he winked.

Your chair scraped immediately.

Without much warning you stood, shooting a quick mumble towards your father before racing down the steps and towards him with determination.

Your father, thankfully, was none the wiser as you rushed forward, nodding in approval as you reached Benji and looped your arm with his.

He thought you had simply come to your senses and was dancing with some lord.

He had no idea who you were moving towards the dance floor with and if he did, you were sure that the smile would be wiped right off his face.

Lord Bracken would start a war if he knew a Blackwood had snuck under his roof, but alas that was the last thing that you were worried about.

You were more concerned about your lover getting caught, the fool having the nerve to laugh as you dragged him through the crowd. The two men he had brought along with him tried to follow, but they quickly ended up getting lost.

It was almost impossible to navigate through all of the twirling bodies, but you made it your mission to weave through them, Benji’s laughter getting lost under all of the noise. You were grateful that the masks at least concealed your true identities, allowing you to pull him along until no one else was around.

You managed to make it all the way to your room without getting stopped. As you did, you opened the door and all but threw Benji inside, making sure the door was locked before turning to your lover with a glare.

A wild gleam appeared in his eyes as he stared at you. It was obvious that he was more pleased than afraid as he grinned, crackling as he embraced you in his arms.

“Benji, Benji! Put me down!”

His laughter mixed in with your shouts of protests as Benji suddenly picked you up, spinning around in his arms.

The world suddenly went blurry for a moment as your lover twirled you, your eyes going in and out of focus. You felt dizzy whenever he finally let go of you, swaying a little bit until Benji steadied you.

When he did, you swore with everything inside of you were going to kill him.

“You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?”

Benji smiled sheepishly as you turned your fiery gaze on him, a mix of concern and anger lacing your voice. Worriedly, you glanced to the door, afraid that someone would burst through and discover him even though you had locked it.

With little time to protest, you were swept into his arms again and pulled against him.

“I was thinking that couldn’t help myself, my love. It is your nameday, and I had to see you,” He said softly, pressing his forehead to yours.

Instantly, some of your anger began to dissolve. You blamed not seeing him for weeks as the reason you began to fold so quickly, but some of your worry and panic still bled over.

“You had to? Benji you could have been caught! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to be here right now? If my father or the guards had discovered you—”

Benji cut you off with a loud laugh.

“Your guards are the sorriest cunts I have ever seen in my life,” He snorted. “I could have snuck an entire army into Stone Hedge and no one would have batted an eye.”

“Hey!”

You playfully swatted his shoulder, giggling softly because you knew he was right. If your guards had done their jobs then Benji wouldn’t be here right now. Alone in a room with their Lord’s daughter, staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes.

A million different things ran through your mind. Everything from terror at getting caught to just being plain excited that he was here flooded your veins. You kept looking over your shoulder, expecting your door to burst open any second while Benji continued to hold you.

It took a few seconds, but when you were sure that no one was coming to seize your lover and take him away, a smile broke out on your face and you quickly embraced him back.

You threw your arms around Benji and held him tight, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you laughed lightly.

“Leave it to you, Benjicot Blackwood, to risk death and torture just to wish me a happy nameday,” You whispered, feeling his chest rumble underneath you.

Benji shrugged. “And to give you this,” He said cheekily, pulling away. When he did, you saw him reach into his pocket for a second before slowly pulling something out.

You bit your lip as Benji handed you a box, a velvet box with the Blackwood sigil embroidered on top.

With a curious look, you opened it up and then gasped at what you saw inside.

“This is…this is for me?” You asked incredulously.

Benji nodded, grinning.

“Of course it is, love. You’re the only Bracken I can give that to without loosing my head,” He teased slightly before continuing.

“D’you like it though? I had to go four towns over, all the way to The Crag so people wouldn’t ask questions. Figured it would have been strange if a Blackwood was caught asking someone to make a neckless with a Bracken sigil.”

The shyness that he sometimes was known for was evident on his face as he waited for your response, Benji nervously playing with his hands.

Luckily though, he didn’t have to wait long. He sighed in relief as he saw you grin, pulling him into another bone crushing hug and kissing his cheek.

“Benji…of course I love it,” You whispered in his ear, making him shiver. You could feel him relax underneath you, hugging you back as your eyes threatened to fill with tears.

“You mean it?” He asked, a bit more vulnerability shining through.

Your heart filled with more love that you thought was capable.

“Of course I mean it. How could I not?” You asked him softly. “It’s beautiful, and I can’t imagine it was easy for you to even have this made.”

You made a jest in order to keep yourself from crying.

Benji laughed lightly. “Aye. It nearly killed me to spend coin on that ugly red stag, but I think the back of it makes up for it. Look.”

He gestured for you to flip the necklace over and when you did, you discovered that it was double-sided. On the front, the sigil of house Bracken was carved, unassuming to anyone who saw it. But on the back…

You ran your fingers over the weirwood tree surrounded by ravens and lightly gasped. It was the sigil of House Blackwood, the symbol that belonged to the man you loved.

In tiny letters, barely visible unless you squinted, the initials B.B were engraved in one of the ravens.

Benjicot Blackwood.

“Oh. It’s beautiful Benji. Thank you,” You said again, your voice thick with emotion as you saw it. This time, you weren’t able to keep the tears from your eyes, one of them falling down your cheek as you sniffled.

Gently, Benji reached to your face and wiped it away. He smiled lightly and gestured for you to turn around. Taking the necklace from your hands, he then unclasped it and gently placed it around your neck.

When he did, he flipped it so that the symbol of House Blackwood showed instead.

“There. Just as it belongs,” He said.

Sniffling lightly, you allowed him to run his fingers over it, Benji placing soft kisses on your neck before turning you around.

When you did, you immediately planted your lips upon his, unable to resist it any longer.

You could tell that Benji was taken by surprise by the sudden action, but he quickly wasted no time in kissing you back. He matched the amount of passion in your kiss, greedily drinking in the taste of you after being starved for so long.

Not long after, what started as a soft, slow kiss turned into something more. The desperation that you both felt after not seeing each other for a while pooled over, and soon enough you found yourself tugging on his hair, wanting something more.

Benji clearly felt the same as he began to lead you towards the bed.

Gently, he laid you down on the soft covers and your heart pounded as he leaned over you.

Once more, his lips met yours in a swift kiss but this time it was accompanied by roaming hands.

You felt him touching you everywhere that he could, Benji feeling all of the parts that he missed.

His hands lingered on your waist and then your chest, fingers dancing over the material that covered your breasts. It was clear that just feeling you over your clothing wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and so you weren’t surprised when he broke the kiss, eyes hungry as he tugged on the yellow garb.

“Take this off,” He demanded softly, his dark eyes wild with lust.

Quickly, you sat up and with his assistance was able to get it off. Benji struggled a little bit when it came to your corset, resulting in your lover getting impatient.

Regrettably, this meant that you would have to explain to your Septa why the strings looked like they had been cut with a knife. A little annoyance pooled inside of you at the inconvenience, but you tried not to think about that as you stared at him, anxious to know what he wanted next.

“Turn around,” Benji then rasped, taking no time to drink in your naked body. “I want you on your knees, ass in the air.”

Despite his filthy words, his tone was oddly soft. Desire pooled in your core as you obediently listened, eager for whatever it was he had planned for you. You laid your head on your soft pillow, eyes fluttering shut as you felt the bed dip behind you.

You sighed as Benji kneeled in between your legs. In an instant, your felt his calloused hands roaming over your body, trailing all the way from the small of your back to the center of your core. Gently, his padded fingers traced your slick folds, eliciting a moan from you when they brushed over your clit.

“Fuck, how I’ve missed this.”

You said nothing as his fingers continued to tease your clit, too busy panting at the sensation.

It had been too long, you noted, since you had felt your lovers’ touch.

The more that tensions between your houses grew, the less time that you had to spend with Benji. It was too risky to be seen anywhere near Blackwood territory and your father had doubled the guards, making it nearly impossible to sneak out. Your meetings had been so few as of late, leaving you craving his touch like no other.

Eagerly, you wanted to take advantage of this opportunity, moaning when Benji sank a digit into your tight cunt. You cursed softly as he began to pump in and out, loving the way he curled them inside of you to reach your pleasure spots.

It seemed that your time apart did nothing to impact Benji’s memory. He still remembered exactly how to make you come undone, adding more and more digits until your cunt was stuffed.

The more fingers that he added, the louder you moaned. Pleasure that you had not experienced in weeks quickly began to cloud your senses, making you forget that you were supposed to be quiet in case anyone overheard you.

You could only imagine the disaster that would ensue if Benjicot Blackwood was discovered knuckle-deep inside of Lord Bracken’s daughter. Making her come undone on his fingers, slowly but surely, and whispering the filthiest of words in her ear.

You imagined that the aftermath wouldn’t be pretty, but alas all of those thoughts and worries faded away the minute you felt Benji kneel down, attaching his mouth to your cunt.

Any previous thoughts that you had were gone—replaced by muffled moans and incoherent blabber.

You whimpered as you felt Benji’s tongue lapping at your folds, eating your cunt like he was a man starved.

You felt him sucking on your clit, taking the bud into his mouth just as his index and middle finger curled against the right spot.

The combined pleasure had you gasping out, pillow forgotten as strangled cries left your lips.

Benji could feel your cunt tightening around his fingers and he smirked, coaxing you through your orgasm as you moaned and withered under him.

It took all he had to hold you down, using his free hand to keep your cunt firmly pressed against him. He refused to let up his assault until he could taste you on his tongue, the sweetness of your juices making him groan as well.

When he finally pulled away and released you from his hold, you managed to weakly look behind you and see him grinning. Benji licked his fingers, his face shiny with your arousal as he met your eyes.

“Hmm. So fuckin’ sweet. You want to taste, raven?”

Meekly you nodded, your face and your core burning at the nickname. Benji smiled as he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his lips while he grinded into you.

You could feel his cock hard as stone poking against your thighs. The thought of him being inside of you after so long briefly made you loose the ability to breathe as excitement flooded your veins.

The action allowed for Benji to slip his tongue in your mouth, kissing you sloppily for a moment before reluctantly pulling away.

His wild eyes were dark with lust as he fiddled with his own clothing, loosening his trousers so that his cock could spring free.

You felt your mouth water as you watched him stroke himself for a moment, spurts of preseed dripping down the base.

Benji let a hand roam over your back and gently used it to push you down, spreading your legs so that he could settle in between them.

With your back arched and your face pressed firmly against the pillow once again, he teased you by dragging his cock along your folds and then, he pushed in.

Together, you both let out a whine as Benji’s cock sank inside of you, your lover letting out a swear as you gripped him tight.

It had been a while since the two of you had sex, and it was evident in the way your legs trembled, your cunt straining to take him as he sank deeper.

You let out another whine, reaching behind you for something to grip. Luckily Benji seemed to get the message clear enough, and quickly he intertwined your fingers together.

Once he was buried inside of you to the hilt, he stilled for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Light kisses were peppered against your back as he leaned over you, holding you as close as possible before his hips began to move.

In a slow rhythm, he dragged his cock in and out as if to savor the moment.

As his hips snapped against yours and sent jolts of ecstasy through your body, your moans slowly started to combine.

You had forgotten how much you missed this. You had forgotten how much you missed him. Loneliness was awful but often times it was easy to get accustomed to it. After all, it’s what you signed up for when you took a Blackwood for your lover.

You expected to go days, weeks, or even months without seeing Benji. So when he was here, you did all you could to savor him before he had to leave again.

Every breath, every groan, and every whisper of encouragement was committed to memory. Every touch, every kiss cherished.

You relished in the way Benji’s cock felt against your walls, squeezing him as if it would somehow help you remember how it felt.

A small curse left his lips as you did, Benji leaning down to suck a love bite on your skin.

As his teeth grazed your neck, you groaned as he somehow managed to find both of your sweet spots.

“That’s it. That’s it. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Benji praised you as you began to fuck yourself on his cock, throwing your hips back and meeting his trusts. Your moans combined together as the pace sped up, the sound of heavy breathing quickly filling the room.

After a moment, you felt his weight shift off of your body as Benji opted to get back on his knees. He used his hands to keep your hips steady, pushing down on the small of your back to keep it arched.

With this new angle, he was able to drive into you quicker and repeatedly hit your sweet spot. Curses left his lips as you began to tremble around him, his own orgasm approaching at the same time as yours.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You gripped the sheets tightly as obscenities left his mouth, feeling Benji quickly pull out of you just as your peak washed over you.

Hot spurts of his seed coated your back, Benji spilling himself onto your skin before finishing you off with his fingers.

The absence of his cock was most disappointing, but by the time you came down from your high you barely noticed.

You were too busy in a state of bliss, turning around to capture Benji in a kiss before shakily pulling away.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked immediately, panting heavily as he collapsed next to you.

Sometimes, it amazed you how quickly he could change. One moment Benji was shy and sweet, giving you the most beautiful necklace for your nameday. And then the next he was making you cum, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear and fucking you so good that you saw stars.

Now, he had switched again, his soft side back on display as he held you in his arms.

He was careful enough not to cum inside of you and—much to your displeasure—had used your fancy yellow dress to wipe up his seed.

You suspected that he was too pleased by the action, but you opted not to say anything about it. Instead, you merely disregarded the dress and chose to cuddle in his arms, trying to soak the last remaining moments you had.

“Of course I’m alright. It is my nameday and I’ve just received the best gift of the night,” You replied after some pause.

You knew him well enough that you could practically hear the smirk appear on his face.

“What? The sex?” Benji asked cheekily, to which you playfully elbowed him.

“No you fool!” You giggled as you knew that was exactly what he was going to say. “The necklace! The necklace you risked life and limb to deliver to me personally!”

You rolled your eyes as Benji began to laugh behind you, the cheerful sound echoing through your chambers.

“Right, right. That is what I risked life and limb for,” He said innocently.

You didn’t have the energy to do anything expect roll your eyes again. You swore he was so stupid sometimes. From sneaking into enemy territory to making silly little jests, your Benji sure was a character to be reckoned with.

But, that was exactly what you loved about him.

Sighing softly, you shook your head and listened to the sound of his breathing. It remained steady behind you as Benji slowly relaxed, settling in your bed like he was simply at home.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was falling sleep. His body was certainly still enough to think so, but you knew as well as he did that he couldn’t stay here.

The party downstairs was slowly dying down. If you listened close enough, you could hear the final songs planned for the night dwindling down, and you knew pretty soon someone was going to come for you.

Benji couldn’t be here when they did.

Your father was probably already angry enough at your lack of presence. If he ever discovered the reason why you had so suddenly disappeared then he would have your head—Benji’s too.

And as much you loved lying in his arms, feeling the warmth and the love radiating from his body, you loved seeing Benji alive much more.

So, sure enough, as the final notes on the final songs began to play, he stood up.

“Well, I suppose that’s my cue to take leave, then.”

Benji smiled sadly as he began to gather his clothes, redressing while you watched him with despair. The sheets that were wrapped loosely around you began to fall as you stood as well, walking over to him just as he readjusted his dagger.

“Do you promise to come visit me soon?” You asked him anxiously.

Slowly, Benji began to nod. He knew as well as you did that soon was debatable. Tensions were at all time high as whispers of war breaking out in the Kingdom spread. They added to the already strained relations between your houses.

Still though, Benji could not bare to see your disappointment. He didn’t want to leave on a bad note, either, so he settled for an unserious answer to ease the situation.

“If your father doesn’t replace his guards any time soon then I’ll be able to visit you any time you’d like,” He chuckled.

He was met by a small giggle that had his heart smiling with joy. Softly, you gripped his hand, savoring his touch as you knew that it would be the last time for a while.

“Stay safe out there, Blackwood,” You told him softly. “Don’t get into any trouble and for Seven’s sake, leave the assize stones alone. Make sure that you come back to me, you hear?”

Your tone was playful, but he knew that you were being as serious as a dead man.

Briefly, his lips twitched a little as he fought the urge to tell you that it was your family that messes with the stones. But ultimately, he agreed.

“I will. I promise,” Benji said sincerely.

A soft kiss was then planted on your lips, you and Benji holding onto each other for one last time. When you pulled away, a sigh of disappointment left your lips as you watched him walk away.

Closing your eyes, you decided to count his footsteps until he reached the door.

When you got to ten, you heard the door open. And one last time, Benji called out to you.

“Oh. And Bracken?”

“Hmm?”

You opened your eyes to see that familiar goofy smile, his eyes shining as he looked at you.

“I almost forgot to tell you, but happy nameday, my love. I do hope that this was a good one,” Benji laughed.

And with that, he closed the door, leaving you smiling and shaking your head behind him.

That fool. What one earth am I going to do with you, Benjicot Blackwood?

[deadsetobsessions]

“I can’t believe you’re squatting in an occupied house, Danny. That’s… actually isn’t that also breaking and entering? That’s a crime, isn’t it?”

“One, at least I don’t have to pay rent and/or utilities. Two, Tim let me stay. And three, I’m a vigilante. Breaking and entering is like the basics of being one. Also, they’re paying me now. This is a legit job now!”

Jazz sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Whatever, dumbass. Where is Tim, anyways?”

“He’s in bed.”

“Really?” Jazz raised an eyebrow and rested a hand on her hip. “Then what’s that?”

Danny whirled around, making eye contact with a frozen Tim.

“Ahah-”

Danny groaned, cutting Tim’s awkward laughter and no-doubt bullshit excuse.

“Kid, Tim, we talked about this.”

“It’s for the aesthetics!” Tim protested, the argument well worn, but obligingly stepping away from the window sill.

Danny shot Jazz a disgruntled look when she muttered, “Well, doesn’t that sound familiar.”

“It’s a school night, Tim.” Danny crossed the room, ushering Tim away from the door. The halfa could probably put down professional babysitter on his resume. If he could handle Tim “climb out of windows” Drake and Tim “sleeps in hard to reach places” Drake in the same day, he could handle anything.

Tim puffed up, like a disgruntled kitten. “Robin gets to go out on a school night! And he’s my age! Kinda! And at least I’m not fighting criminals!”

Again, this is an argument they’ve had multiple times.

“Not for a lack of trying,” Danny muttered, rolling his eyes when Jazz snickered. He made the mistake of looking down at Tim’s convincing little sad kitten act and sighed. “Alright, alright. We get two hours of batwatching, then you go to sleep.”

“Deal!” Tim cheered. Jazz grinned, mouthing ‘weak’ at Danny, who promptly made like his high school self and ignored her.

“Go get your jacket. And some thicker socks, you’re gonna freezing out there.”

“Okay!!”

When Tim was out of earshot, excitedly thundering down the lavish hallway, Jazz tilted her head back and laughed.

“Oh, shut up.”

“How the tables have tabled, huh, Danny?” Jazz snickered.

“You think you got jokes,” Danny pointed at her with a new mug of coffee. “Laugh it up, but don’t forget that you’re his older sister now too.”

Jazz paled. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Now you gotta deal with two of us!”

“Two of who?” Tim returned, bundled up in a fancy puffy jacket. Jazz cooed at him, kneeling down to zip his jacket up. Danny, echoing her, magically grabbed a scarf and wrapped around Tim.

“Us, her little brothers. Unfortunately, you’re now our little brother and that means Jazz is gonna mother you like you’re a baby duck.”

Danny ducked the half hearted smack Jazz sent his way, grinning at Tim. The kid had a self conscious smile on his face, bashful at the unprecedented (for him) attention and affection. Danny’s smile tightened when Tim looked at Jazz for confirmation (which she gave). If it weren’t for the fact that Tim loved his parents, Danny would have spirited (hah!) the kid away. He’s like a textbook case of neglect. It’s why he keeps trying to sneak out in ways that’ll easily get him caught. He’s trying to test if Danny would get mad and leave-

“Oh my god. I’m turning into you, Jazz.” Danny said, horrified.

“What?” Jazz narrowed her eyes once the statement sunk in. “What’s wrong with being more like me? I can actually process my emotions in a timely manner, thanks.”

Danny, stuck in the horror of understanding someone’s motivations and processing some of his own trauma, shuddered.

Danny picked up Tim and swung him onto his shoulders. “C’mon, Timmy. Let’s get out of here before Jazz gives us germs.”

“Oh, that’s real rich coming from the greasiest vigilante this side of the river.”

“Not true! Green Arrow’s greasier!”

“Eh, he doesn’t count. He’s in Oregon or something, right?”

“Who cares? I wanna see Robin!” Tim wriggled, placing his heavy ass camera on Danny’s head. “He’s a new Robin! The first one moved to Blüdhaven!”

“To be a cop, right?” Danny asked.

“Yeah. It’s… not great. And kinda ironic.”

“ACAB.”

——

Batman snuck closer to the glowing green figure that was glancing around the rooftops. He’s glad he sent Robin home hours ago, because variables in Gotham tended to be dangerous.

He dropped to a crouch behind the figure, who turned around as soon as he did, looking unsurprised. The being had enhanced hearing then, if not enhanced everything else.

“There you are!” The being scowled at him, but Bruce couldn’t detect any actual hostility. Only weariness. “I’ve been looking for you for ages.”

Nevertheless, he hadn’t survived this long by being careless.

“What is your business in Gotham?” He deepened his voice, adding enough gravel to sound mildly threatening.

The being shook their head, white hair unnaturally waving in the air. Like it was under water.

“I live here. I have a bone to pick with you.” Batman loosened his stance, readying to move.

“Can you keep Robin in on school nights?! If you can’t, can’t you make him go home sooner? My kid brother keeps trying to sneak out of the house to imitate Robin and it’s killing me! Do you know how many times I’ve had to stop him from climbing out of the window? We live on the third floor, man!”

A frazzled older brother. Batman-Bruce grimaced. He couldn’t stop Jason anymore than this being could. Also, “You live here?”

The being scowled, looking defensive. “Why, I can’t? Are you being discriminatory? Because I refuse to take shit from a grown man in a bat-sona.”

“…A bat-what?”

The being sighed. “Nevermind. Yes. I live here. My name is Phantom.”

“Don’t cause any trouble.” Batman warned before hesitating. The being was young, that was clear. He kind of reminded Bruce of Dick, and it made Batman’s tone soften. “And I will try. Robin is resolute.”

Phantom dropped his glowing face into his hands, a move Bruce often wanted to mirror.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

——

Sorry guys I really like tired babysitter brother Danny and unnecessarily jumping out of windows Tim. This is before Tim decided to be a vigilante. This is after Dick moves out.

[i-cant-sing]

TT AU PART 13

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Part 12 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"I cant do this."

He rolls his eyes. "Not with that attitude." He runs a hand through his hair before nodding at you to follow him. You both enter the dance studio that his grandfather built for his wife inside the house because he loved her and well, he had the money.

"Silas, no one can learn ballet in a month." You state again and he lets out an exhale while Cadbury is bringing in about a dozen of ballet flats. "Even if your grandmother were to try and teach me, I still wont be good enough to perform in front of the queen-"

"Your voice is shrill and piercing and thoroughly unpleasant."

You blink at him before scowling. "A simple "shut up" would suffice, you know."

Silas glances at you. "What is this really about? Are you pretending to have low self esteem so I could offer you sympathy?"

"Excuse me?" Your tone sharpened. "Not that I like to remind anyone of the favours I do, but maybe you have forgotten that I literally saved your social image and status from being tarnished yesterday? Or did you forget about our Nikkah?"

Silas suddenly leaned down, bringing his face close to yours. You backed away, and he tilted his head slightly. "And I'm eternally grateful for that, missus, but the Nikkah saved your image too. Must I remind you that I converted to Islam too?"

"Because it benefitted you, not me." You spat out, only to inhale sharply as he gripped your chin firmly.

"As is the stipend I've been paying you, yet you fail to write a single article on the murders."

He pouted, feigning hurt. "Besides, are you saying I am not a real Muslim? That I have malicious intentions? Doesnt that go against your teachings- what is it? Not to judge someone?"

"I dont need to judge when its all so apparent-"

"Ah, good to see the love birds again!" Sarah's voice made you two pull away from each other. She clasped her hands as she made her way towards you two.

"Nana." Silas greeted her and kissed her cheeks. "Thank God you're here. My sweetheart is so concerned over this performance, even though I've assured her many times that she will be learning from the best. There's just no way she would mess this up!"

Sarah laughed heartily. "Stop buttering me up! And she is right to be concerned. Anyone would be nervous to perform in front of an audience, especially the queen!"

Silas wrapped one arm each around your and Sarah's shoulders, pulling you two close to him. "I only see a queen and a princess here. There's no need to be nervous. Just have fun!"

Just have fun? What kind of bullshit motivation is that-

Sarah smiled and nodded. "He's right, Y/n. As long as you're having fun, you're going to be just fine darling!"

-

Colin never thought he'd have to resort to day drinking.

And yet here he is, adding whatever he could grab his hands on and fill the flask with and mixing it in his coffee.

I need this. He reasoned with himself. Its not that much, just small doses to keep me sane when Y/n comes.

And then you do, in your Sherlock Holmes disguise, cheerfully greeting him before going to Will's office to work on the murder story.

He takes another sip of his coffee as he tries to process... well, everything.

Why was I attracted to you? Why am I still attracted to you even though I acted as a witness to your wedding with that rich bastard-

Another sip. He scowled before adding some more liquour, then he sipped it. Better.

Whats the best way to get over a crush? Crush? Is that what you were? An infatuation, a passing by fancy? So, how do I get over-

Wait. He set his mug down. You know that he and the boys all know that your marriage to Silas is a sham. You never really hid the fact but now they had all witnessed that it was just a rushed, possibly contractual marriage that Silas wants to save his ass.

So the marriage is bound to end. He doesnt have to get over you. No, not really. If anything, I should be spending more time with you. Yes. Yes! This way, when you and Silas end things, Colin will be right there to comfort you and support you! He needs to be the first man there after you dump Silas, lest anyone else gets ideas and wants to marry you as well.

Colin got up and managed to make his way to his boss's office without bumping into anyone. He's going to ask to work on the murder story and then you two will spend time-

"No. Keep working on the asylum story. We have enough people on the murder case." His boss dismissed him.

Colin slumped in his desk as he looked at the coffee mug. Eh, what the hell? He took another sip and another solution popped in his head.

If he cant help you with the murder story, then perhaps you can help him with the asylum story!

-

Silas handed you the invite.

"How did you get it so fast?" You asked, examining the small paper with elegant writing. It was the invite to the Gentleman's club, the one Henry owns. You'd asked Silas to get you an invite to what was an exclusive, members only club (when you tried entering the club, the men at the front laughed you out.)

Silas looked at you unamused, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Must I remind you who I am?"

A pompous ass?

"Of course not, my duke." You said mockingly, before raising a brow at him. "I suppose it would make sense for you to get easy access to shady places like this. You might be their popular customer."

"Oh darling, I'm popular everywhere." Silas shot back before dismissing you with his hand. "You can go now."

"What? You arent going to ask me why I'm going there?" You asked him. "Maybe you dont care that I am going there, but arent you worried about Mrs Fitzgerald or Duchess Y/n being in a place like that?"

Silas shrugged nonchalantly. "No." He leaned back in his chair. "I trust you not to screw up or entangle yourself in scandals. But even if you do end up in trouble, I will stand by you."

"You will?" You couldn’t hide the disbelief in your tone.

He nodded. "Of course. Look, I know we are in this... unconventional relationship and it appears that I couldnt care less about your existence, but you still carry my surname next to yours. And I wont allow anyone to disrespect what or who is associated with me. So, rest assured-" He leans forward, resting his arms on the mahogany desk and clasped his hands. "you have my support in all your endeavours, Mrs Silas."

A small smile formed on your lips. Maybe he's not so bad.

"Thank you, Silas- oh, can you drop me off there?" You knew he was going to leave in the carriage soon.

"No, I dont want my beautiful, pure bred stallions to go through those dirty streets. You can walk."

Jerk.

You stomped out of his study, not noticing the butler going in after you with the dessert you'd made for yourself last night.

"And what's this?" Silas asked him as he took a bite of the decadent, gooey chocolatey dessert.

"Uh, the duchess called it "brown-ies", but I've never heard of it before." Cadburry watched Silas ate it and sighed dreamily. "Do you like it, sir?"

"No." Silas pushed the empty plate towards him. "But I'd rather not have grandmother eat her cooking and say something. Bring me the leftovers."

"Y/n- oh, are you going somewhere?" Sarah asked just as you were about to leave.

"Yes, um- I'm going to meet my friends." Its not like you could tell her that you worked in the paper disguised as a man.

"Male friends?" She asked.

"Yes. My old flatmates." You watched her smile falter. "What?"

"Nothing, dearie. Enjoy your time with them! I hope you'll join us for dinner." You nodded and left while Sarah looked for her grandson.

"Where's Silas? I must speak to him this instant." She asked the maid, who informed her that the duke had went to play tennis just moments ago.

"Tennis?"

The maid nodded. "Yes. With his uncles."

Sarah was a little surprised to hear that. Not the tennis part, no. Silas is extremely well at any sport he plays, but she knows her sons arent ones who are good at athletics, let alone at a sport as strenuous as tennis.

An idea popped in her head.

-

You stood outside the Gentleman's club, watching people go in. Smoothing your hands over your black velvet dress, you made your way to the door.

After handing them your invitation, they let you inside and you saw a waiter handing everyone masquerade masks from a silver tray. Perhaps it was the theme for the club tonight, or maybe the club just gave masks to everyone to conceal their identities.

You were given a black and gold mask that covered the upper half of your face. As you adjusted the mask over your face, you heard a familiar voice.

"I need to see her. Now." You looked over your shoulder and saw Benjamin harshly whisper to one of the waiters. "She told me to come and I'm late as it is. Dont make her wait any longer!" You turned your head away as the waiter lead Benjamin into the club, all while Benjamin yanked a mask off the tray and pulled it over his head.

What is Benny doing here?

You quickly followed him inside, lest you lost sight of him, which you did as soon as you stepped into the main hall and were immediately stunned to your place at the sight.

Loud jazz music played by a band live, smell of smoke and alcohol filled the air and people. There were so many people, despite the club being "exclusive". And as your eyes scanned them, trying to spot familiar faces, your heart dropped at the realisation of what they were doing.

This was... an adult club. That kind of adult club, the one where there are absolutely no limitations on who is doing what with whom, all drunk on pleasure and drugs of course, no inhibitions. You spotted men with men, women with men, and more than one person pleasing another man.

Thats why this is an exclusive club, why they gave everyone masks. Because if word got out that a someone was here doing.... something that was generally a taboo and even punishable by both God and the law, well it would put them in huge trouble. People came here to let loose, to give in to their darkest desires.

What the hell is Benny doing here?

Averting your eyes, you looked for Benjamin and spotted him from afar, going into a room.

Oh God, please dont let it be a- please dont let sweet Benny be a depraved creep.

You waited for him to come out and after about 20 minutes, the door finally opened.

Benny walked out first, adjusting his mask again and then leaving. You're about to follow him, perhaps even confront him for being here when someone else walks out of the room as well.

A tall woman wearing a bright red, backless dress and a golden mask concealing her identity. But what really stood out were two things- first, her fiery red-orange hair that was styled into voluminous Hollywood waves. And second was her figure, her athletic built, or more specifically her broad shoulders and muscled arms.

Everything about this woman screamed important. And if it werent for her looks that demanded attention, then it was certainly her aura. People parted the way when she walked past them, all looking at her as if she was their saviour, an angel or divinity among men, which is ironic considering where you were.

You jumped as you felt an arm snake around your waist.

"What the hell?!" You looked at the culprit, who turned out to be a blonde woman drunk off her head.

"Oh dont be like that! Come on, love, let me show you a good time-" She tried to touch you again but you backed away before she could.

"No, thank you." You dismissed her, going back to looking at the red head.

"Prude." The blonde muttered before following your gaze. "Oh so thats what you're into? Well, put me in a red wig and we can play like that!"

"No, thanks." You huffed, eyes still trained on the woman in red.

The blonde scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, its not like you'd be able to sleep with the club owner."

"She's the club owner? I thought Mr Blackwood owned this place."

"He does, but Lady Scarlett there runs this place, from entertainment to management. She does it all!"

Lady Scarlett? Fitting name.

Pushing away the blonde one more time, you looked for Lady Scarlett, except you lost sight of her now. You scanned the entire ballroom, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Shit." You mumbled, turning around only to stumble back as you came face-to-face with her, or well... face-to-chest. She towered over you.

Her bright red lips smiled knowingly at you. "Looking for me?" She asked in a sultry voice, stalking towards you until you were backed up against the wall.

"N-no-" You yelped as she suddenly grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head.

You stared at her wide eyed as she leaned down, hovering inches away from your face and thats when it hit you-

Lady Scarlett is a man.

Of course! The muscled arms, the manly built, and now on close inspection, you saw the clean shave under the makeup too.

"Y-you're a man." You stated in disbelief, hoping to catch her or him, off guard. What even is he? A drag queen? A trans? You dont know if they existed in victorian era.

Scarlett tilted her head. "So? Are you the only one who is allowed to cross dress as the other gender?"

What? No, no way she knows-

She leaned in closer, whispering in your ear. "Did I catch you off guard, Mr Holmes?"

She knows!

"How- how did you-"

She smirked. "I know everyone that is associated with Mr Blackwood." She brought a hand up to your face, and you noticed a golden ring on her ring finger. She cupped your face. "And I know for a fact Henry wouldnt like his latest infatuation snooping around in a place like this. So..." She leaned into you again, staring into your eyes. "Leave."

You didnt have to be told twice. Lady Scarlett, that cross dresser creeped you out, even more so when she already knew you.

Stumbling out of the club, you removed your mask, dropping it to the ground. The fresh night air filled your lungs and cleared out the smokey air from the club. It was quiet outside, considering it was way past midnight and everyone was home now.

And I have to walk all the way home. You huffed, rubbing your arms. Because my husband would rather I get hypothermia than let his precious ponies walk through these streets.

You turn around, walking away from the club to see if there was a carriage available at this time, when you hear a shrill scream from the alleyway you're walking past.

And there it is- a woman lying in a puddle of her own blood as huge, dark figure slashed her face over and over again. The moonlight hit the woman's face- a blonde woman-

-the blonde from the club.

Frozen in your place, the figure stood up and looked at you, not at all looking startled at being caught mutiliating someone. It was definitely a man, huge stature, and he stared at you, the dark night concealing his identity. He slowly bent down to pick something up, a top hat, dusting it off before placing it on his head.

And then he tipped his hat at you.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck-

It wasnt until he took a step towards you that you finally broke out of your trance and ran. You ran and ran, not even risking a look back, not realising where you were running off to until you burst through their door, out of breath and paler than white paint.

"Y/n?" Colin rushed towards you, the Shepherd and Liam rushing into the living room as Colin helped you inside. "What happened? What's wrong?" He feared, as did all the boys, that Silas had done something to you.

"I- I- I-" You shake your head, the image of the dark figure running through your mind, the hat, the long cloak, the knife- it finally pieced together.

"I think I saw Jack the Ripper."

-

You sat at the police station with Colin. After explaining everything, he'd convinced you to report the murder.

The detective lead you inside the interrogation room, motioning for you to sit down as you began giving your statement.

"And who did you think the murderer was?"

"Jack the Ripper." Your answer made him roll his eyes. "And who might that be, miss?"

"I dont know." The investigator shook his head exasperated. "Of course you dont." He muttered, then sighed.

"So, what were you doing at this club?"

"Me?" You didnt pause for long. "I was invited there. My- my husband wanted me to attend on his behalf."

"Your husband-" he paused, reading your surname on the paper. "Fitzgerald? Wait, you're Mrs Silas Fitzgerald?" You nodded, making him sigh. "Guess it makes sense for you to be there..."

Whats that supposed to mean?

"Did you see anyone familiar there?"

"No." You answered curtly, before adding another detail. "Everyone was wearing masks. Couldnt recognise anyone even if I wanted to."

What? I'm not gonna rat out Benjamin and make him the prime suspect without gathering all the facts before.

It's definitely not because I have a soft spot for him since he reminds me of Qasim so much. Nope.

The door suddenly swung open and in walked what you assumed was the detectives superior since the man got up.

"Is this the witness for club murder?" The higher up asked him.

"Yes sir, she was just giving her statement-"

"No need. Dismiss the witness and the case. It's been handled." He told the detective who only nodded.

"Handled by who? You can't just dismiss the case!" You exclaimed getting up. But before he could reply, someone walked in from behind him.

"You can go now, Smith. I'll see Miss Y/n gets home safely." Henry patted the higher ups shoulder who left with the detective.

"What are you doing, Henry?" You crossed your arms.

"I could ask you the same." He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as well.

"I'm reporting a murder that happened outside your club! I saw him-"

"Saw who? Jack the Ripper?" He scoffed. "You think you saw him, but all you really saw was a dark shadow."

You shake your head. "I did see him-!"

"And how do you know that he's Jack the Ripper?" He pushed himself off the door frame, walking closer to you. "How do you know that he's the Ripper when no one knows who the man is?!"

You pursed your lips. You could argue that the victim profile and post mortem show a matching pattern but you doubt Henry is going to listen to reason.

"Even so, you should still let me give my statement. Why are you adamant on me not giving one? A woman was murdered for God's sake!" You try to walk past him, but he grabs your arm and yanks you back, making your chest collide with his.

"She was my employee. She worked for the club. And you-" his face hardened. "-you are insulting her death by making it a public frenzy. By stating that some sick nobody, someone who was nicknamed by the papers just to strike fear in people's hearts, killed her. I will not let you use her death so that your paper could make a quick buck! Jack the Ripper is a nobody!"

-

"Why do you think Blackwood's trying to cover up the murder?" Colin asked you as you two made your way towards your next destination.

"I dont know." You huffed. "Maybe he knows who the murderer is? Maybe he's protecting his business? Surely, if people were to hear that a serial killer made an appearance near his club, he'd lose clients."

"Or maybe he's the killer." You stopped and looked at him. Colin looked at you knowingly. "It would make sense for him to be Jack the Ripper, or at least the man who murdered that woman. It is very suspicious of him to probably bribing the coppers to drop the case."

You shake your head. "Its too obvious."

He rolled his eyes. "What? So Henry cant be the murderer because its “too obvious?” People make mistakes-"

"Not Henry." You cut him off. "He's too smart, calculating. There's got to be another reason for him to be sweeping this all under the carpet."

Colin shakes his head in disbelief, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked ahead. "We're here."

You followed his gaze and saw the building. The sign on the gate read-

"Aveline's Asylum"

"Really? Right now?" You asked Colin, who just smiled cheekily.

"It'll take your mind off things. Just take a break and help me on this assignment and we can go back to speculating what Blackwood's motives are." He raised his brows. "Plus, I think you'll enjoy this one."

You followed him inside the asylum, walking through the lush green gardens and seeing the pristine white building ahead, you wondered how this would help Colin's "exposing horrendous hospital environments and patient care" article when all of this reall just screamed "rehab for the rich".

"Shouldnt we go to an asylum that is in much worse conditions than this? Possibly next to a workhouse?" You asked him, but Colin just smiled. "Why did you choose this place, Colin?”

"You'll see." He says before whispering to you. "Remember your script. And... action!”

While pretending to be insane (which was easy because all you had to say was that you don’t think being a mom or stay-at-home wife is your life’s purpose), you saw a familiar figure there. And he saw you too.

“Y/n? Colin?” Benjamin looked surprised. “What are you two doing here?”

“Working on an article.” Colin replied, glancing at the way you’d gotten quiet, staring at Benjamin.

“Oh. Right, the horrible healthcare environment. But why this place? Its practically one of the finest asylums, housing mostly the wealthy of London.”

Colin nodded. “I know! But I have a hunch about this place-”

“What are you doing here?” You cut him off.

“Me? Oh, I’m here to give haircuts.” Ben chuckled nervously. “Its not a noble cause, but the wealthy unwell patients do pay a lot.”

“Mmhm, where’s your hair kit?” You remember distinctly that Ben was very particular about using his own scissors, so he often carried his own.

Ben looked caught off-guard by your question, but he quickly recovered. “The nurses provided me with their own. Cant carry scissors around an asylum now, can I?”

How convenient.

Colin continued to make small talk with Ben, while you studied him. Even if you didn’t tell anyone that you saw Ben at the club the night of the murder, doesn’t mean that you didn’t suspect him. For all you know, appearances can be deceiving and this sweet man may just be the infamous Jack the Ripper.

Blonde haired, the kindest eyes, the sweetest smile, a golden retriever in human form- could Benjamin really have killed all those women so brutally? Then again, Ted Bundy was also known for his good looks and superficial charm.

Am I really comparing Benny to Ted Bundy? God, I hope I’m wrong.

“I should go now. See you at home?” Ben asked you, hopeful.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, Ben’s smile faltering at your answer. He then raised his hand to shake Colin’s and thats when you noticed a distinctly familiar golden ring on his hand.

The same one you’d seen on Lady Scarlett’s hand.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

-

By the time you’d reached home, you’d pieced out the story. Ben being at the exclusive club and being discrete about it, seen in a room with Lady Scarlett, both wearing the same rings-

He’s in a relationship with her. Or him.

Thats why Ben was at that club! Homosexuality or anything else that isn’t heterosexuality was simply not accepted in Victorian England, and was possibly punishable by law! Just look at Oscar Wilde! Ben is dating Scarlett, keeping it discrete, he never committed any murders because he’s not Jack the Ripper. He’s just not straight!

Oh, I’m so glad you’re not the Ripper, Benny. I knew you weren’t capable of committing such heinous crimes.

As for why he was at the asylum, maybe he’s telling the truth. He did come to give the rich patients a haircut because he needs the money to maintain Scarlett’s lifestyle or maybe be rich enough to whisk her/him away from the club.

Benny is such a gentleman.

Now that Benny is no longer a suspect, that leaves Henry to be the main suspect. Maybe he’s not the one killed the woman, maybe he hired someone? Or maybe Henry’s not the killer either, its just too- obvious.

“Why do you think Henry stopped me from reporting the murder?” You asked Silas as you whisked the eggs before adding them to the pan. Silas had entered the kitchen the moment he heard you were cooking, though he did shoot you a weird look for making scrambled eggs at 11 pm. With you running around London all day, you hadn’t found time to eat until now, and you were just looking for a quick meal really.

“He probably doesn’t want you scaring off his customers. If word gets out that a murderer, or as you claim- “The Ripper” was seen near the club, then people wont be frequenting the place. Or perhaps he’s protecting the murderer?” Silas suggests, swallowing as the smell of butter wafts through the kitchen.

You add cubes of cold butter in, then look at him. “What? You don’t believe that I saw the Ripper?”

“I believe that if you really saw the Ripper, then you wouldn’t still be alive. He had the time and the opportunity to get rid of you.Why else would the notorious killer would let a witness get away?” Silas crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter near the stove.

“Maybe because he targets prostitutes? All of his previous victims match that profile.”

“Like he could tell a difference-”

“Are you saying I look like a prostitute?” You dished out the eggs. “No, you’re saying that. I’m saying that the man you saw kill that woman was just an amateur who was caught offguard by you, otherwise he would’ve attacked you too.” Silas states before grabbing the plate of buttery scrambled eggs on toast from your hands.

“Hey! Thats mine-” “My kitchen, my eggs.” He smirked before walking off. “You can make yourself more, I need to feed my dogs first.”

You glared at him until he left the kitchen, not knowing whether he really was going to feed it to the dogs or it was just a lie disguised as an insult so that he could eat it himself.

It was the latter. Always.

-

The next day, after you’d taken another ballet lesson from Sarah, you were about to go out to investigate the club again but Sarah had other plans for you.

“Y/n, I need you to stay at home today.”

“Oh, is everything alright?” You ask. She never made you stay home before. “Are we having company?”

“No. I think that you should play some sports to keep yourself fit. As a ballerina, it is important to keep both the mind and the body sound, and what better way to achieve that than by playing in the sun!” She lead you outside towards the tennis court, hidden by the huge bushes for privacy from outsiders.

“Tennis?” You ask her, and she confirms it. “Yes. Do you know how to play?”

Do I know how to- if I wasn’t so obsessed with history and sciences (and my mom scared that me wearing a skirt would attract predators), I had plans on playing professionally. Qasim and I used to play tennis at the club he’d won a membership in. We were both very competitive but he was just always a little better than me. He always knew my moves, he read me like an open book.

I was second only to Qasim though. Everyone else? They ate dust.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled at her. “Who am I playing with?”

“Me.” Silas spoke from behind you, dressed in all-white tennis wear. He looked at Sarah unamused. “Nana, I thought you said you had a worthy opponent for me.”

You shot him a glare, but Sarah came to your defense. “Now, now. You don’t know how capable your wife is. And I’m willing to bet that she’d make you run out of breath, Silas.”

You smiled cheekily as Silas scoffed. “We’ll see.” Sarah places a hand on your back. “Why don’t you go get changed, dear? I had the maids prepare an outfit for you.” When you left, Sarah looked at Silas. “Now Silas, I know you play exceptionally well but you must remember that this match is more of a way to spend time with your wife. Not a way to show off. So, be a gentleman, hm?”

You huffed as you returned to the tennis court. What the hell is this? Silas gets to wear a shirt and pants and I have to wear a full length dress with a corset and a hat?!

Mom would probably have let me gone pro if this was the official tennis wear for women.

Sarah sat on the side lines and watched you two play. Silas let you serve first and after a couple of back-and-forth, you won the first point. And then the next. And the next.

“Ah, you’re doing fantastic, Y/n!” Sarah cheered before standing up when the butler informed her that a guest has come to see her. “I’ll be back! You two keep playing!”

As Sarah left, you couldn’t help but tease Silas. What? He still makes you sleep on the floor! “So, how does it feel to lose to a girl?”

“I wouldn’t know.” And with that, Silas threw the ball in the air and served.

The ball shot past your head, just centimetres away from hitting you.

“What the hell? I wasn’t ready-”

“Lame excuses dont work on me.” He pulled out another ball and bounced it. “Are you ready now, duchess?”

You scowled at him before getting in position. “I’m ready, jerk.”

You lost two of the three matches. The first match you almost won was because Sarah was there and Silas was going easy on you, but when Sarah left, Silas regained all those points by serving topspin and slice serves. By the second match, you were finally able to return his fast serves, but now Silas used his speed and your lack of because of your heavy dress and made you run around all over the court trying to return his fast shots. By the third match, you were all out of breath but not out of determination. So, Silas decided that now would be the time to use your body as target practise and he hit the ball over your legs and arms, only stopping when one shot hit you in the head and made you fall on the ground.

“Are you okay?” He asked, barely suppressing the glee in his voice. He held out a hand to help you up, but you swatted it away and got up on your own.

“Finish the game.” You growled and he raised his hands in surrender before returning to his side of the court. For the rest of the third match, he missed all the shots you served and let you win. And he did it so openly, not even being courteous enough to hide his intentions.

Sarah watched you return inside the house, looking all sweaty and angry as you stomped unto your room. Silas trailed in behind, a satisfied grin on his face and Sarah shook her head at him disappointedly. “What did you do, Silas?”

“Nothing. I even let her win the last round, but she’s still angry.” Sarah looked at him admonishingly, making him sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll go talk to her. The things I do for you, Nana.”

“The things you do for love, Silas.” She corrected him.

Sure. Silas rolled his eyes mentally. I “love” Y/n.

Silas entered the bedroom and saw you had showered and changed into new clothes. “Going somewhere? Perhaps to get some handkerchiefs to wipe all the sweat and tears?” He watched you glare at him through the mirror and he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’m just teasing. But seriously, where are you going? I could give you a ride.”

“I’m going to an asylum with Colin.” You huff, packing some things in your small purse. Silas nodded. “Good idea to get yourself finally checked-” He dodged the hairbrush you threw at his head, chuckling. “Now now, duchess. It isn’t exactly speaking much for your mental health for you to be chucking things at your dear husband.”

Ignoring his antics, you slipped on your shoes, walking out of the room. He trailed behind you. “Dont be mad. I’m just playing around. Come on, I’ll drop you off at Saint Peters asylum. Its on my way to work.”

“I’m not going to Saint Peters. I’m going to Aveline’s.” You stated, ready to walk off but he grabbed your arm.

“What?” You looked at his shocked face. “What?” You repeated his question. Why did he suddenly look so pale.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his grip tightening when you tried to move. “Which asylum?”

“Aveline’s.” You frowned, grabbing his hand and removing it from your arm. Silas expression paled further.

“Why?”

You shrugged. “Colin wants to do an article on horrible asylum conditions and treatment of patients-”

“Dont.” Silas ordered more than he suggested. “That place- don’t go there.”

“And why not?” You looked at him skeptically. “Colin wants to do a piece on the place-”

“Pick another asylum. I can get you access to any other.” Silas ignored your question, averting his eyes. “You will not go there, and you will not write a piece on that asylum.”

You grabbed his arm to make him look at you. “What are you hiding, Silas?”

Silas stared at you before yanking his arm out of your grasp. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just- do as I say.” He raised finger, wagging it at your warningly. “I’m telling you- you will not go there again, Y/n. And if I find out that you or Colin or anyone else tried to write about that place, I will shut down that paper and make sure none of them find a job ever.”

You watched Silas leave you there standing dumbfounded.

Did he really just threaten me?

This bitch.

-

Silas watched you leave from the window. He knows you wont listen to him, knows that its inevitable to try to stop you from going to Aveline, so he already sent someone to bribe the staff to not let you on the asylum premises. He’s not worried about who you’re meeting or where you’re going, just as long as its not Aveline.

No. He closed his eyes, painful memories flashing through his mind. You cant know. You cant know.

He sat down on his chair, trying to think of ways to divert your attention from the asylum. You’re as stubborn as a mule, you wont listen to him. So he has to create distractions for you.

Jack the Ripper!

Of course, the murder case!

“Cadburry!” He called his butler. “Arrange me an invite for the Gentleman’s club. Now.”

You were sitting in the boys apartment, Benjamin playing with your hair out of habit, braiding it, unbraiding it, then braiding it again. Colin sat confused. “Why cant we go to the asylum today?”

“I’m not in the mood to see depressing white halls today. Besides, I have an errand to run.” You lean your head further back for Benny.

“And what that might be?” Colin was intrigued.

“Girly errand. You wont understand.” You dismiss him. “But we’ll go to Aveline’s again, thats for sure.” You felt Benny tug your hair at that statement.

“Ow! Benny!” You glare at him. Ben shakes out of his daze, apologising profusely. “Sorry, sorry! I was just lost in my thoughts.”

A coy smile formed on your lips. Lost in thought? Oh, I know exactly what kind of thoughts you’re having, Benny.

Colin stood up with a sigh. “Alright then. I’ll go to office and start writing down a draft.” You nodded as he left you alone with Ben.

Once you heard the door click, you immediately turned around. “Hey, Benny.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “Hey, Y/n.”

“So…” you wiggled your brows at him. “What’s going on with you?”

“Hmm… nothing much really. I got a new customer who wanted a toupee. Apparently word got around that I’m a very skilled barber, no matter how much hair one has or lack of, I can make it work!”

“Yes, thats lovely Benny, but-” you cleared your throat. “I meant, whats going on with you, personally. You look happier, livelier these days.”

He shrugged, offering you another sweet smile. “I guess that’s just the effect you have on people around you.”

Ugh! Stop being so charming, Benny!

“Thanks, Benny. But… I don’t know, I feel like there’s something different about you.” You tried another approach. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I wont ever judge you or anything.”

Though he was smiling, you saw something flicker in his eyes. Doubt? Fear?

“What do you mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice stable as usual.

Your eyes studied him.

“Did you meet someone new?”

There it is! That flicker in his eyes. His face didn’t let anything away but his eyes, you saw it.

“Yes.” Finally, we’re getting somewhere. “I met you.”

Stupid Benny. Annoying Benny.

Sighing, you realise that maybe he’s just not ready to come out yet. And that I shouldn’t take it personally because I am close with him and he could tell me anything, just like Qasim would. It would be unfair to force Ben to tell you about Lady Scarlett before he’s ready.

“Thanks, Benny.” You said, hiding your disappointment. “I have to go now. Have to go… run that errand.”

“Oh, need me to come?” He got up with you. You shake your head. “No, I’ll manage on my own.”

Why would I tell you when you wont tell me about your love?

-

You were now standing outside the club again. You had initially returned to the back alley to investigate the crime scene again but it had been scrubbed clean and Henry had somehow managed to get a permit to start construction to expand the club further.

He was erasing the crime scene. Henry was trying to hide something.

Speak of the devil, you saw Henry exit the club and get in his carriage. Once you were sure he’d left, you made your way towards the club entrance, still having the invite from last time, only for the guards to stop you.

“I’m sorry but Mr Blackwood has forbidden you from entering the club, Miss Y/n.” One guard said, holding a hand up to halt you.

“Mrs Fitzgerald.” You corrected him, hoping to use the name to get by. “I am the duchess of Westminster!”

“Forgives us, Miss Y/n, but Mr Blackwood specifically instructed us to not let you in and he also instructed us not to address you by anything but Miss Y/n or- um…” The other guard trailed off, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“Or?” You sneered at him to continue.

“Or… future-Mrs Blackwood.” He mumbled but you heard him loud and clear.

I’m going to kill him.

“Listen here and listen clear!” Your voice took a threatening tone, though you’re sure it would look comical to an outsider seeing a woman of your stature trying to intimidate men who were towering over you with their buff physiques.

“I am going to only be addressed as MRS FITZGERALD and you will let me in this club right now or I will have my husband, the duke of Westminster, shut this place down before your twat boss would dare to associate his name with me again!” You yelled with your nostrils flared. “Now, you will march in and inform Lady Scarlett that I’m here to see her. And if she says no, tell her I know about the rings!”

The guards shared a look, probably trying to communicate telepathically whether to let you in or not.

Fortunately for you, your huffing and puffing seemed to work and one of them walked in before returning moments later.

“Please wait for a short while Lady Scarlett entertains some guests.”

After about 20 long minutes, during which you were sure Henry would turn up and have you carried off the premises, the guards finally lead you inside.

“This way, future Mrs Blackwood.” You shot him a glare but didn’t say anything since you were inside the club anyways. They lead you up the stairs towards the room that you had seen Ben go into the last time you were here.

The door opened and you saw a large bed on one side, silk sheets and plush cushions adorning it, and a huge vanity in the other corner, full of makeup and expensive jewels, all arranged in an orderly manner. Then there was a table next to the vanity on which sat a variety of beautiful red haired wigs.

“They’re made from real hair.” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Lady Scarlett, wearing a maroon robe and a black mask covering her identity. Her trademark red hair, still styled as beautifully as the first time you saw it and that bright red lipstick on her lips. “Benjamin was sweet enough to get them for me.”

She walked past you and sat down on a couch next to the window that opened to the balcony outside, and then she lit up a cigarette, holding it in a vintage cigarette holder.

Not that I would ever condone a nasty habit such as smoking, but she looked absolutely badass in that moment.

“What do you want, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett let out a huge exhale of smoke.

“Fitzgerald. I know about the rings.” You state, watching her take another drag.

“What rings?” She asked, feigning innocence.

“The golden rings.” You narrow your eyes. “I saw it on your hand that night and I saw it on Benjamin’s hand as well. I know whats going on, and I’m here to talk about that.” Taking a deep breath, you blurted out your suspicions.

“I know you and Benjamin are in a relationship.”

She looked up at you expectedly, not at all alarmed at being caught. Then again, why would she be caught off guard? Considering the line of business she’s in, she probably has practiced her poker face.

“Is that so, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett’s lip’s curled up. “So what?”

So what?

“Look, I mean no harm, but I- I care about Benjamin a lot. He’s like family to me, and I know its not my place but I am very protective of him and I just… I’m just here to make sure that this is not some sort of game for you. I don’t want you playing with his feelings, so if you’re not serious about him then I suggest you end things with him now before it gets too messy.”

Scarlett looked at you before chuckling. “As you wish, Mrs Blackwood.” He stood up with a click of his tongue. “Now, is that all or do you have any more shocking news to pass on to me, Mrs Blackwood? I suggest you do it now because you wont be stepping a foot in this club again.”

“Its Mrs Fitzgerald. And I don’t plan on returning to this depraved scum either.”

“Depraved scum, huh?” Scarlett tilted her head slightly in a mocking manner. “Since you insist on calling yourself Mrs Fitzgerald so proudly, let me show you something as well.” He opened the door and lead you towards the top of the stairwell, from where you could see everyone and everything down below on the dance floor.

She nodded her head to the far right corner and your heart dropped for a second. Is that-

“Mr Fitzgerald seems to be enjoying himself. Though not all that much.” Scarlett said as your eyes remained focused on Silas who was sitting on a chair, looking uninterested by the different women who surrounded him. “Maybe he likes boys. I’ll send some his way-” You rushed out of the club, not able to hear another word or see Silas for another moment longer.

-

Its been a couple of days since you went to the club. Of course, when you arrived home and waited for Silas to return, who upon your questioning about his whereabouts claimed he was meeting a businessman.

He lied.

You tried to distract yourself by taking more ballet lessons from Sarah, but still your attention lingered on him.

Why was he there?

You then tried to divert your mind towards work, and then here you are, sitting on your desk with a blank paper, ready to be filled with words.

Why was he there?

Dropping your pen because you knew you weren’t going to be able to get anything done until you processed your feelings about this.

What feelings? Certainly not jealousy because I am far more mature than this. Its just-

I thought he had standards. Taste. Sure I might not be fine wine, but I’m certainly better than those skank-

Nope. I am a woman. I will not be bringing other women down because of a man.

But Silas… how dare he? Yes, how dare he?! I am not jealous, I am insulted! How dare he act like he’s a polished aristocrat and I’m just ditzy, poorer than a church mouse, a NOBODY, when he goes around prancing his repute and himself in the utter gutters of London?

Maybe he’s just hypersexual. Yes, he’s a depraved, disgusting individual and I married him. Great. So the first man I married, had a NIKKAH with, turned out to be lying, cheating, piece of-

Why did he lie?

Its not like he expects me to sleep with him. If he did, why would he still make me sleep on the floor?

Baldwin would’ve never made me sleep on the floor, always covered me with his cloak because he knew how much the cold bothered me.

And he’s always so rude to me! He beat me at tennis, quite literally!

Salauddin always lost to me in chess. And he let me rub my wins in his face too!

Not to mention, how uncaring he is to my feelings!

Ibrahim always put my happiness above everything. He chose to wait for me, until I was safe- felt safe.

And of all of them, I ended up marrying Silas.

How dare he?

Pushing yourself back into your desk, you began writing down furiously. Fuck Silas, fuck Henry, and fuck Lady Scarlett! I WILL go back to Aveline Asylum, I WILL expose the the Ripper and- if I have time, maybe find Benny a better significant other!

“Woah there- what are you writing?” Colin came up behind you, frowning at the title he read.

“The Ripper strikes again! Murder outside the exclusive club for the wealthy freaks!” Colin looked at you. “Have you gone bonkers?”

“Yes.” You snapped. “You cant talk me out of it, so why don’t you go and get us access into Aveline asylum again. Discreetly, this time.”

By the time everyone was going home, you had finished your article and dropped it on the editor’s desk just as he was about to leave.

“Read this. Trust me, its worth it.” You look over your shoulder. “And I have a witness ready to go public- Mrs Fitzgerald.” Of course, the editor wouldn’t ever figure out that you are Mrs Fitzgerald, not Mr Holmes.

-

However, you were a little surprised to see that he hadn’t published your article in the paper the next morning. Storming to work, you quickly made your way towards the editor’s office, barging in without knocking.

“Hello there, love.” He smiled cheekily. Instead of your editor, Henry Blackwood sat in his chair, his legs propped up on the desk. “I was waiting for you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What? You can barge into my business, but I can’t swing by yours?” He asked, feigning hurt.

“No. Now leave.”

“Well then its a good thing that this is also my business now.” Henry grinned, removing his feet from the desk and replacing them with his arms, resting his head in his hand as he stared at your fuming self.

“What?”

“Oh love, you’re looking at your new boss. I just bought the paper this morning.” He winked, standing up and making his way to you. “See, I told you not to come by the club again, I told you to drop the Ripper case, and you didn’t listen either time. So, I’ve come here to tame you. Personally. Seems like you need my undivided attention, kitten-”

“I did drop the Ripper case. I didn’t give my statement to the police!” You exclaimed.

He tutted, wagging his finger at you. “No, but you did write an article. You’re lucky I was here before it got published.”

You frowned. “How- how did you know about the article? I wrote it yesterday, I gave it to the editor at the last moment-”

“I have eyes everywhere, Y/n.” He smirked, leaning down to whisper. “Especially on you, naughty kitten.”

Henry chuckled as he looked at your flushed face, mistaking your anger for bashfulness. He walked out of the door but not before passing another comment to tick you off.

“Nice moustache. Or shall I say… whiskers, kitten?”

-

For the next 3 days, you didn’t leave the house. You didn’t even leave your room. It seemed like all your previous pettiness-driven motivation had run out and dropped you into the well of depression. And here you wallowed in your sadness, taking Silas’s bed even when he was away and looking like a pitiful lump of sadness under the covers.

“What is wrong with you?” Silas asked, exasperated as he sat down on the bed to tie his shoes. “How long will this go on? You have missed your ballet classes and you are worrying grandmother.”

“I’m just sleepy, okay?” You mumbled from under the sheets. “Its not like sleeping on the cold, hard floor is helping me.”

“And it seems like sleeping in my bed hasn’t helped either.” He raised a brow. “Its been 3 days already. This has gone long enough. Now you can either tell me what is wrong or I will have Cadbury drag you out and hose you down in the gardens.”

You shoved the covers down to glare at him. Asshole. You don’t doubt that he would have his butler hose you down.

“I miss… I miss my brother.” You mumbled as you averted your eyes. “Qasim would fix everything for me. He always had a solution, always. And I- I need him right now. To guide me, to handle things for me.”

“So… why don’t you ask for his help?” Silas asked, fixing his tie.

You stared at his back before looking down at your lap. “We’re not on speaking terms… I’m mad at him.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “Well he’s your family, isn’t he? I’m sure you can still talk to him.”

“Cant.” You muttered gloomily, making Silas’s annoyance trigger off.

“And why the bloody hell not?” He turned to glare at you. “You cant get out of my bed! You cant attend work! You cant take your classes! You cant tell me what’s bothering you! And you cant talk to your own brother! Why!? Why?! WHY?!”

You flinched at his harsh town before tears filled your eyes.

“Because… he’s dead.”

Your statement rung in Silas’s ears like a daunting bell. Dead. Dead. Dead.

God, did he feel like shit now.

You threw the covers off you, getting out of bed as you fixed his sheets.

“Sorry for hogging your bed.” You sniffled, using your sleeve to wipe your tears as you walked past him, only for Silas to catch your wrist. With a gentle tug, he had you sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said, sincerely. “I was just… frustrated due to things at work. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Its fine, whatever. You’re right, I’ll go to work and classes-” He tightened his grip on your wrist when you tried to leave.

“No.” He tilted your chin towards him. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. I may not be your brother, but I am your husband.”

You stared at him conflicted. Did he really mean it?

He answered your silent question with a gentle squeeze of your hand. “I will fix your problems, Y/n.” He offered a smile. “Your duke is at your service.”

-

After you told Silas your work situation with Henry and how he’s stopping you from writing anything about Jack the Ripper, how you cant get anything done with his shadow looming over you and monitoring everything you do, Silas explained that solution to it was all simple.

“I will buy the paper from Henry.” He stated nonchalantly, as if he was talking about buying eggs not a newspaper company.

“I dont think he will give you the company. He wont put it up for sale-”

“Everything is for sale, Y/n. You just need to find the right price.” He stood up, assuring you he will buy the company. “I’ll get the company, if you promise to put on a great show. You focus on the ballet classes. After all, the show is only a week from now.”

The following seven days were filled with you doing ballet for hours and hours, all with one motivation.

Not to let Silas down.

Because if I let him down, if I embarrass him, then he wont get the paper from Henry. And I wont be able to find Jack the Ripper or help Colin with the asylum! And Silas will lose trust in me and wont let me have my space at the Westminster palace or wherever so that I can work on my time machine-

Time machine! You face palmed. I’ve been so busy with the murders and shitty men that I forgot to build my machine! My way home!

No, after the show, I’m- I’m demanding- I’m moving out. I don’t care if I get the paper or not, I need to build my machine.

“Oh Y/n, what are you doing in the storage- honey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to pass out! Cadbury! Hurry and open the windows!” Sarah guided you out of the dusty store to sit down, fanning you with her hands. “Oh dear, do you hate confined spaces like Silas too?”

You took deep breaths as fresh air flooded in through the windows, furrowing your brows. “What?”

“Nothing dear, I just thought you felt suffocated in closed spaces, like Silas!” She explained. “He cant stay in a room with closed windows for too long, you know.”

Now that she mentions it, she’s right. You don’t remember Silas being in a room without at least a window open, even as winter rolled around. Hell, he still opens the balcony windows in the bedroom as soon as he wakes up, but you thought that was because he hated your guts and wanted to give you an early wake up call by letting the cold air slap your face and rattle your bones.

“Why does he hate confined spaces?” You ask, letting her loosen your corset.

Sarah looked a little hesitant to tell you, but then relented when you asked her again. “He never told me the reason, but I figured it was the night when his mother passed away. Silas… he was just a young boy, he was hiding in his closet. He liked to scare his mother when she came to check on him, and so he often hid in the closet to give her a fright. He saw his mother get murdered while he was in the closet.” She looked down sadly. “Unfortunately, the killer’s identity was hidden by the dark night. Silas wasn’t able to identify who killed his mother, and I suppose he’s blamed himself a little for that incident.”

Damn. Thats… dark. And sad.

Maybe I can excuse Silas for being rude to me at times. Maybe. Just a tad.

The night of the ballet show rolled around quicker than you’d expected. And despite all the hours of practice and Sarah’s countless assurances that you’d be amazing, you knew the reality.

Your performance was barely passable.

From a young age, you were able to critique yourself very well. As Qasim said- “Only you know yourself the best!” And you knew right now, as you stood backstage, peeking through the curtains at the audience and spotting the queen and her family, you were utterly, truly set up for failure.

NO ONE CAN LEARN BALLET IN 2 MONTHS! AT LEAST NOT ENOUGH TO IMPRESS THE QUEEN!

Your stomach churned, you felt bile rise up your throat, your legs wobbled as you backed away from the curtain, stumbling away, right into Silas’s arms.

“Silas- Silas, I cant do this! I can’t! I can’t!” You cried out and Silas tightened his grip on your arms.

“Okay.”

Okay?

“What?”

“Okay. You cant do it.” He squeezes your shoulders. “I guess I’ll just tell everyone to go home. I’ll apologise to the queen and make up an excuse as to why she wont be seeing a performance by my wife tonight. But hey, she’s family. She’ll understand, right?”

You stared at him in confusion. Silas ran a hand through his fingers. “As for all the journalist who came here to write about you, and all the influential people I’ve invited over because this was your formal introduction into high society, I guess I’ll just have to make something up. But you-“ he gave you a warm smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “-you don’t worry your pretty little head over this. Its okay, I… well, if I’m being honest, I never really expected you to perform.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d back out at the last second. Oh well, what can we do. Now-” he rubbed his chin in thought. “Should I tell the guests that you’ve broken your leg? Or perhaps you cant perform because you’re with child? If we go with the first excuse, people may call you a ditz, maybe unprofessional. And they might come to check on you. But if we go with the second excuse, people will talk about- well, it has been only a month into our marriage-”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Is he… did he set you up?

“You expected me to not perform?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, Y/n. I expected you to fail to deliver what I require of you. I expected you to perform in front of an audience, and that was all I asked. I didn’t ask you to become a prima donna, I just wanted you to be good enough. Which you are in my opinion. But your doubt in yourself right now is only because you clearly haven’t spent enough time practising because you were too busy running around town, going to clubs and asylums and chasing after a murderer when all of your attention should’ve been on becoming a competent wife!” Silas fumed, tightening his grip on your shoulders. “I asked you again and again to focus on the ballet lessons, and you ignored my advice repeatedly and for what? Because you wanted to prove yourself? Because you wanted to play detective and solve murders? When you cant even do a simple job as putting on a show? And I knew- I knew you would abandon me like this, so you know what, Y/n? While I keep my end of the bargain, while I invited Henry tonight to talk him into selling the paper to me, you continue to let me down. So go on stage or don’t, I really don’t give a shit now. I can’t take your word ever again.”

Silas stormed off, leaving you shell shocked backstage. You sat down on the steps, trying to control your breathing. How could he- how can he say all that to you?

Does he not understand the pressure you’re under? Does he not understand how hard all of this is for you?

You really thought that after you told him about Qasim, after he assured he that he would help you out, that he would fix your problems-

I thought he understood. I thought he had my back.

You let out a shaky exhale, rubbing your chest to ease your ache. Why is it so hard to breathe all of a second?

Tonight, you didn’t invite Colin or Benny or any of the boys, and it only hit you now how truly lonely you were. There’s no Colin. No Benny. No friends. No family. No Qasim. No… Silas.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you alright?” Cadbury looked alarmed as he spotted you looking shell shocked, struggling to breathe.

“I… I cant-” You couldn’t speak, and the butler quickly took your nervous, trembling form in and sprung into action.

“Here, duchess- ma’am, drink this.” He brought you a cup of tea. “It’ll calm the nerves, ma’am. Drink it.”

You let the bitter, warm liquid slide down your throat without a second thought.

“You’ll be alright now, ma’am. You’ll be all… right.” The butler assured you kindly, helping you stand up. In just a matter of seconds, your anxiety had melted away and was replaced with… unbridled confidence.

“What did I just drink?” The words slipped out as you felt your heart beat faster. Your eyes snapped towards Cadbury. “What did you give me?” The words came out quickly.

“Nothing special. Its just tea to calm you.” He said, ushering you up the steps towards the stage curtains. “Are you ready now, ma’am?”

Your eyes zeroed in on the white particles on his collar. Like powder.

“Is that snow?” If you weren’t so hyper focused on his collar, it would concern you how fast you were talking. “Is it snowing outside already?”

Cadbury looked down on his collar and suppressed a smile. “Yes, duchess. You could say that. Now- please return your attention to your performance. We are all rooting for you.”

“Not Silas.” You snapped again, your eyes looking at the dark curtains as you take your position. “Not that twat.”

Cadbury’s brows shot up in shock. “Ma’am-”

“I’ll show that twat.” And then the curtains opened.

-

Silas sat down in his seat with a satisfied sigh. Everything is going according to plan. You’re nervous and he just chewed you out so the stage will now be empty because you’ve ran off to cry a river, the royal family will once again be embarrassed as they happily welcomed Silas and his Muslim wife into the family (by making them the duke and duchess) and with all the journalists he invited, the news will now spread like wildfire that Silas rejected a princess, Queen Victoria’s daughter to marry an embarrasment.

The princess was one upped by a fool. A commoner. A failed ballerina.

Did Silas feel bad for you? Just a little, because he didnt like the way you looked at him, hoping for support, maybe even motivation, only for him to break your heart. Broken hearts can be mended, but broken reputations? Nope.

Besides, he’s sure that when he buys the company from Henry and give it to you, you’ll forget all about it! Everything will work out just as he’d planned-

What the hell?

The curtain opened and instead of being met with an empty stage like he’d planned, there you stood in your white tutu skirt, face completely devoid of any expression.

What are you doing?

The pianist began playing a tune he didn’t recognise. Sarah did tell him that of the three songs you had chosen, there was one she hadn’t heard ever before. You’d worked with the pianist to get the tune right, and at that time, he was impressed at how much work you were putting into this.

As the music played, you began dancing. From what his grandmother had told him, he was expecting soft, gentle, shy dance.

And yet you were doing anything but that. Your movements were strong, powerful, determined. You were nothing like the woman whose hope he’d crushed just moments ago. You were all alone on that big stage, but you practically leaped from one side of the stage to the other, your legs faster than lightening.

By no means did you look like a mess, or that you didn’t know what your were doing. Your eyes were wide open, as if hyper aware of your surroundings and your audience. From beside him, Silas could hear his grandmother whispering the choreography.

“En pointe. En pointe. En pointe.” You were now dancing on the tip of your toes, and Silas could only imagine how painful, if not destructive this could be to your feet.

“Tendu. Chaine turn. Chaine turn. Pique manege.” Now, you were moving across the stage while making turns.

And finally, the big ending. “Pirouette. Pirouette. Keep spotting, Y/n. Pirouette.” Silas knew about the pirouettes. He watched you spin around your own axis, in a fixed position on a ground, your body moving first, your head later, your eyes focused on a spot in the dark so that you don’t lose your balance. You turned- 1,2,3, he lost count because you were turning too fast.

“34- was that 34 turns, Silas?”

Thirty four? Thirty four pirouettes?!

The performance ended with fouetté turns, which according to Sarah were about 28 and you exited the stage dancing en pointe, on the tip of your toes.

The ballet hall erupted in applause and cheers, and Silas stood up with everyone else to give a standing ovation to a now empty stage.

What the hell just happened?

-

Its hot. Its hot. I’m burning up!

As soon as you were off stage, of which you have no memory of your performance, you almost fell to the ground if it weren’t for strong arms catching you. And the moment your eyes caught sight of the broad shoulders, you instantly pushed yourself away, throwing yourself against the wall to support yourself.

“Careful there, love.” Henry grinned, clapping his hands in mocking manner. “That was quite the performance you gave, kitten. I’m very impressed.”

“What are you doing here?” You spat out, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. He tilted his head, amused at the sight of your flushed cheeks. “Silas invited me. He wanted to discuss business. I wonder if the little kitten went to her owner for help because she couldn’t scratch me with her tiny paws?”

“Owner?” You heaved a shaky breath. His smirk widened. “What else would you name it? He bought you to be his wife, because you know and I know that there isn’t and there never will be love between you two. He’s just using you. So drop the charade and come to me-” Henry caught your wrist before you could slap him, and while he may have stopped your physical assault, he wasn’t able to stop your verbal one.

“What would you know about love? You’re here, pursuing a married woman who has insulted you from the very first moment. Those skanks at your disgusting club have more self esteem than you do right now. You’re fucking pathetic and I’d rather eat a cactus and shit it out before I marry an entitled, emasculated prick like you. Fuck off!” You shoved him away and stormed out of there, unaware of just how much Henry wanted to wring your neck (just for a moment) and how a certain someone had overheard this little spat.

And he smiled proudly.

Good job, Y/n. He thought to himself.

-

“Fuck!” You screamed as you burst through the doors and landed out in the gardens, falling to the snowy ground, letting the ice cool your burning temperature.

How the hell am I burning up when its literally snowing?!

You grabbed a fistful of snow and threw it to your face, trying to cool down your body temperature. When that didnt work, you dove face first into the ground, before flipping on your back, letting the snow engulf your body from all sides. Your ballerina costume was thin and sheer as it could be, finally allowing the cold to creep into your skin and slowly into your bones.

Now that the adrenaline rush and whatever the hell was in that tea wore off, your body immediately went into fatigue and became aware of all the aches in your body, especially the pain in your feet. You tried to move, but your muscles didn’t budge. They were tired out, strained beyond their limits.

The cold suddenly became too unbearable and your teeth rattled. You tried to lift your head, tried to yell for help but it was like your mind had suddenly went autopilot and decided to shut down to let your body recover from its fatigue.

“No…” You whispered, as tears slipped out of your eyes. Everyone was inside, the party was loud, no one would even hear you scream for help even if you tried, no one would come to your aid. The realisation that you would freeze to death had you panicking, but alas, your brain refused to cooperate with you.

You heard the sound of footsteps and a glimmer of hope rose in you. Turning your head to the side took the last bit of energy, and your brain put you out of your misery when you saw the daunting shadowy figure that imprinted itself in your mind from the night of the murder.

The cloak, the top hat, a golden ring on his hand and the shiny glint of the knife.

The Ripper is here.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream before you blacked out.

So??? Thoughts??? Also nobody @ me for not putting a "keep reading" button because I had to edit 12k words TWICE on mobile, I have pulled an all nighters for yall. I have to go to clinic in loke 2 hours.

Yall better send comment and send ask.

[mischievousmoony]

hello !! it is again almost 3am where i am but i cannot stop thinking at nerdy james before he gets buff from quidditch.

headcanon time; first or second year, before he knew his friends, he was like this wimpy little kid that got bullied a whole lot (especially by slytherin kids) and that's why he plays pranks on people.

but but! a request maybe of reader liking james before he got popular, but they never made it known because they're the quiet type. but as james became popular, reader stayed the same and they never really really crossed paths again. but there was a time where reader did something small for james back then which he remembered all those years and then they kiss kiss fall in love.

you can you whatever pronouns you want again for reader !!

- 🌱

took the liberty of making the reader a gryffindor hope thats ok

𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 2.8k ⟢ warnings/tags: intoxication (not reader or james), unsolicited flirting from random guy, james is taller than r, gryffindor!reader, introvert!reader, no specific pronouns for reader used

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Secluded in a quiet corner is where you feel most comfortable at parties. Your fellow Gryffindors are a boisterous bunch, and that's never been your style, making it much easier to watch events like these from the sidelines.

This doesn't make you the most popular student in your house. It's not as though people don't like you, but they don't really know you. If they had to, the vocabulary they would use to describe you would be limited to quiet, nice, and… quiet.

You’ve always wondered if you would've fit in better in another house. Ravenclaw always seemed appealing. Or Hufflepuff maybe. But for reasons you don't understand, the sorting hat put you here. With the daring, self-assured, unreserved students that you couldn't be anymore like. But, you never really minded. As different as they are, at least they're nice.

For the most part.

"Hey, baby," one of your housemates drawls, emerging from the lively crowd and invading your corner. You can't say you remember his name as he cozies up next to you, unceremoniously situating himself against the wall. His shoulder crashes against it roughly as he says, "You look lonely over here."

His warm, beer-scented breath invades your senses and you scrunch your nose in discomfort, veering away from him as you reply, "I'm fine."

"Want some company?" he presses, surging forward to make up for the space you created and then some.

"No, thank you." It's almost annoying that your instinct is to be polite as this guy invades your personal space.

"Cos I could make for some real nice company," he adds, a sinister smirk working its way onto his face as you cringe away from him.

You're wracking your brain for a way out of this situation, when a familiar voice sounds from behind you, saving you the trouble.

"Hey, ready to head out?" James Potter says, and you have no idea what he's talking about, but at least it makes the other guy back away from you slightly.

"James," you blurt, rather dumbly, surprised at his sudden closeness.

Truthfully, you have been eyeing him from your corner; admiring the boy from afar as you have for years. Most of Gryffindor fancies him, and you're no exception. But who wouldn't have a thing for Gryffindor's valiant captain and ever confident head boy? Especially when that boy looks the way James does: standing over six feet tall with a chiseled, muscular physique (thank you, Quidditch). He seems to know it too, the way he carries himself with confidence.

His most captivating feature, though, is his bright, infectious smile. It's always been your favorite thing about him, even when it was still the shy, hesitant grin of a boy who wasn’t yet confident in himself.

"It's about time for us to get out of here, don't you think?" James smiles, baring all of his pearly whites, and he looks like something out of a dream. His eyes flick from you to the boy to your left. "Oh, hey Callaghan, didn't see you there."

"Potter," Callaghan nods in greeting. "You, uh, you know..." he trails off, gesturing aimlessly to you. You're not surprised that he doesn't know your name.

"Y/N? Course I do," James says, stepping closer to you.

But that. That's a surprise.

James towers over both of you, making Callaghan take another step back in intimidation. You're too busy being surprised to feel relieved over the space. James knows your name?

Callaghan gestures between the two of you, trying the gauge your relationship. "And you two are...?"

"Leaving," James says, offering you his hand, “Right?”

You stare at his hand, momentarily dumbfounded, before you take it, “Right.”

You feel kind of hazy as you let James lead you away from Callaghan, away from the lively party, and out into the corridor. The situation is so surreal that you wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly woke up to find it was all a dream. When was the last time you even spoke to James Potter?

"You alright?" James' voice cuts through the silence of Hogwarts' halls. Your eyes meet his concerned ones as he leans against the stone wall, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yeah, I'm alright," you say, still a little muddled. You snap out of it with a shake of your head, remembering your manners, "Thank you, by the way."

"Psh," he waves his hand through the air, brushing it off, "You don't need to thank me. Any person with eyes could see Callaghan was being... off putting." James scrunches his nose in judgement, pausing as if to bite his tongue, like has more to say about Callaghan but better not. "Any decent person would've stepped in. No thank you necessary."

"Well I'm thankful anyway," you say quietly, the corner of your mouth tugging upward into a small smile.

James' eyes dart to your lips, your gesture conjuring a wide smile on James' own lips. You're momentarily distracted as his tongue runs across his teeth, barely hearing him as he says, "Well, I may be reluctant to accept your gratitude because I may have had some selfish reasons behind my method."

Your lips part, twitching into the shape of various words that never leave your lips. You feel very warm all of a sudden.

James does a rubbish job of hiding the amusement in his eyes, but he is kind enough to put you out of your misery with an explanation, "I need a walking buddy. Was hoping you'd like to join me?"

You're not any less dumfounded but you manage to get the words out this time. "You want me to go on a walk with you?"

"Yeah," James says, like it's not strange at all.

"Why didn't you ask one of your friends to go?"

"You are my friend," James insists, and you cock and eyebrow.

"I was surprised that you even knew my name."

"Of course I know you! We're friends," he emphasizes.

You look at him skeptically, not sure what you did to make a friend out of him. Not that you wouldn't like to be his friend, but friends usually talk to each other. The last time James spoke to you was last year to ask if you had an extra roll of parchment. And he was more so asking the entire class, you just so happened to be the one with the parchment.

"Do you not want to be my friend?" He asks in a teasing tone, having let you stare in silent skepticism for long enough.

He's not being serious, but you panic anyway. "What!? No! I mean no I don't not want to be friends!"

He chuckles as he pushes himself up from wall. "Then walk with me, would'ya?" He nods his head off in the same direction he starts walking, expecting that you'll follow.

You do, your feet moving faster than your brain can overthink your way into a no. But as you walk next to him your thoughts catch up with you.

What are you supposed to talk about? What do you know about him? Quidditch. What do you know about Quidditch? You know lots about Quidditch. Quick, say something about Quidditch before this silence gets awkward. Why do you suddenly not know anything about Quidditch?

The effects of your racing mind are written across face, your features contorted in worry and a lasting skepticism as you glance up at James every so often.

James is glancing at you too, finding every little crease and contour from your worried look endearing as silent laughter bubbles in his chest.

"Alright, what's that face?" James finally asks, his tone as gentle as possible as not to make you uncomfortable.

Your expression softens into sheepishness. James looks at you with such kindness that you find yourself voicing your concerns.

"We're friends?" you ask in a small, hesitant voice.

James is quick to defend his claim, "I've known you since we were kids!"

"We haven't spoken since we were kids," you say.

He seems to deflate at your words, faltering as he experiences a moment of speechlessness.

"Besides," you go on, a hint of smugness creeping up on you, "we've known everyone at this school since we were kids. Does that make us friends with everyone?"

James is quick to shake his head. "Not everyone was as kind as you back then."

Any trace of smugness has been quickly expunged and replaced by a fluttering in your stomach as his eyes fill with what you would call admiration if you didn't know any better.

"And you were exceptionally kind," he adds on, not helping ease the butterflies in your stomach. "Though you're right. I should've talked to you. I don't know why I didn't talk to you more."

"It's okay," you say in a small voice, prompting you to clear your throat before you continue, "We're talking now."

James smiles that radiant, charming smile that makes you swoon. Before silence can settle over you James' face lights up as an idea pops into his head.

"Have you even been on the Quidditch Pitch at night? I mean, when there's no game going on?"

You shake your head, your eyebrows creasing as you find his question rather random. Before you've fully grasped what he's implying, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the castle.

A gasp escapes your lips as he tugs you along, his enthusiasm and long strides causing him to race ahead without realizing how fast he’s moving. It's only when you're outside that you find your voice again.

"James!"

He slows his pace and drops your hand. For a moment, he looks almost embarrassed, shrugging his shoulders as he lacks an excuse for his sudden burst of energy.

You shake your head with a smile. “Some things never change. Do you ever take a deep breath and just mellow out?” you ask, noticing with amusement that he’s just as hyperactive now as he was when you were kids.

James makes a big show of taking a long, deep breath as he falls into step with you at a much more leisurely pace than before.

You shake your head again, chuckling.

"Some things do change, by the way. For example, you were taller than me back then," he says, resting his elbow on the top of your head to emphasize the difference.

You jerk your head away, playfully retorting, "Everyone was taller than you."

"Shut up!" he laughs, letting his arm fall to his side. He's close enough that his arm brushes against yours as you walk. You feel the shake of his laughs against your skin and you can't help but giggle along.

It doesn't take long to walk to the quidditch pitch. The walk felt shorter than it does on game days, but maybe that's because you didn't have James to walk with.

You follow James out to the very center of the field, where he wastes no time to plop down into the grass. "Lay with me," he says, crossing his arms behind his head. "You can see all the stars from out here," he says to convince you.

"You come out here a lot?" you ask as you sink down beside him. The grass tickles your skin as you lay down.

"I've been coming out here since I was a first year," James reveals. "I used to lay in the grass, just like this, and imagine what I would look like flying above dodging bludgers and scoring winning goals."

"Yeah?"

James hums affirmatively. "I've always loved Quidditch. Wanted to play for as long as I can remember. And then I came to Hogwarts, and Merlin, I thought the Quidditch players were so cool. Wanted to be like them so bad."

"What does it feel like?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you’re the one first years are looking up to now."

"No, they're not," James scoffs in complete disbelief.

"James," you deadpan, thinking he can't be serious. "You're the Gryffindor captain and rightfully so. One of the best chasers Hogwarts has probably ever seen. I mean, way you escaped that bludger last weekend?” you muse. “Not to mention the Chudley Chop Down you pulled off. You looked just like the professionals, it was incredible!"

James is caught at a loss for words again, a rare occurrence for him, but you've managed to make it happen twice now.

You clear your throat, realizing how you've just raved on about him to his face. You excuse yourself with, "I, um, I really like Quidditch."

James blinks away the awestricken glint in his eyes, responding, "Figured as much. Don't think I've ever played a game I haven't seen you in the crowd of. But enough about me," he continues. "What about you and your achievements, eh?”

“What are you talking about?”

"Don't be coy. You have to be the brightest witch at Hogwarts."

"No, that's–"

"C'mon I've seen the marks you get. And no one gets Gryffindor more house points in class than you do. All the professors love you; Slughorn always seats you to his right at Slug Club meetings. And I thought Minnie had a soft spot for me but then I saw how she talks to you."

"Maybe if you called her Professor McGonagall once in a while," you tease, trying to distract him from showering you with anymore compliments to spare your heart from racing any longer.

"Wouldn't matter. She likes you because you're smart. Driven too. She knows you’ll do great things after school. Everyone knows you'll be one of the most successful in our class."

"I hardly think anyone notices me,” you say, nervously ripping up blades of grass from the ground.

"I have," he says, looking at you with so much fondness it takes your breath away.

Your eyes widen, sparkling with warm astonishment at all his kind words. James notices the way your parted lips curve into a small, shy smile. Slowly, it grows into a grin.

He nudges you, "Now what's that look for?"

"This is just... unexpected."

"Unexpected?"

"I mean I didn't realize you remembered by name, let alone knew anything about me."

James' expression is tinted with disbelief. He removes his arms from behind his head as he angles his body slightly toward you, gearing towards something serious. "Of course I did. When I said you were kind to me back then, you were really the only one who was. How could I forget you?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as James sighs deeply.

"Merlin, I really should have talked to you more," he says, shaking his head.

"It's okay–"

"No," he insists, "I should have talked to you more. I don't know why I didn't– I mean I do know why I just..."

You swallow hard, giving yourself time to find your voice. "There's a reason?" you ask.

James turns his head, shifting back against the grass as his gaze finding the stars above him. You can see the moon reflecting in his eyes as he bathes in its light. He looks ethereal like this.

"You make me nervous," he's able to admit in the comfort of not having to see your reaction, pretending it’s just him and the moon out here.

Your jaw goes slack. You'd sooner think you're being pranked or he's under some kind of spell than to believe his words.

"What?" you finally utter. Your hand freezes with a chunk of freshly ripped up grass held hostage between your fingertips.

James chuckles, "You were so nice to me. And I always thought you were so pretty I– every time you said something kind to me I would get so red in the face."

You're silent, at a loss for words as you try to wrap your mind around his admission. If the tips of his ears hadn't turned red, you'd think he's lying.

"I mean everything made me nervous back then," he continues. "Thank Merlin I grew out of that, but you..."

James finally looks at you again, his eyes darting across your face as he absorbs your reaction. Carefully, he takes hold of your wrist, placing your palm flat on his chest, over his heart.

"You still make my heart race," he says quietly, and you can feel the proof under your fingertips.

Words make their way past your lips almost instinctively, driven by a desire to reassure him. "I... I was too nervous to talk to you too."

The fondness in his eyes grows even warmer, and he begins tracing gentle lines on the back of your wrist with the pad of his thumb. "It's alright," he says. His tone is genuine and hopeful as he continues, "We're talking now," he repeats your words from earlier with newfound affection. "And I'd really like it if we could keep talking."

"Yeah," you say. A wave of courage washes over you, and you adjust your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. "Me too."

After that, you find yourself out here a lot more often, staring at the stars with James, your fingers intertwined. You're both much more comfortable around each other now, but from time to time, you still make each other's heart race.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[xo100]

Hi there!! Could I ask Lando with a singer or a dancer reader?? They are already dating, but haven’t made it officially yet to the public. Lando surprises the reader by attending to the readers tour and fans are going feral about him being there, because it’s a “duo” they didn’t knew they needed. After the show he comes backstage to the reader and they make the relationship public with the pictures of them being backstage or something. Just really sweet and fluffy. Thank you❤️

A surprise in the spotlight - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 781

*:･ﾟ A/N: hey loves! I just wanted to let you know that I have another blog called @norrisxwrites on this blog I will reblog your reblogs. I’ll reblog my posts and other posts! Go check it out if you want posting there soon! Enjoy the fic!

masterlist / community / request

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The stadium buzzed with the excitement only a sold-out concert could bring. The energy was palpable, like a living, breathing thing, as fans spilled into their seats with glowing bracelets and homemade signs. This was your tour, the biggest one yet, and it had been months of grueling rehearsals, endless interviews, and nights spent missing the man who’d somehow slipped into your life and turned it upside down.

That man, Lando Norris, Formula 1’s rising star and everyone’s favorite cheeky Brit, was supposed to be halfway across the world, prepping for the next Grand Prix. At least, that’s what he’d told you over FaceTime just two days ago.

But Lando had never been great at following the rules—especially when it came to staying away from you for too long.

-

It wasn’t until the third song of the set that whispers started spreading through the crowd. Something was happening near the back, a ripple of excitement weaving its way forward. The screens overhead briefly panned across the audience, and there he was, seated among the fans in a hoodie and cap pulled low but not low enough to fool anyone.

The stadium erupted.

“Is that Lando Norris?” someone screamed.

“He’s at her concert?” another gasped.

The internet moved faster than the speed of sound. Within moments, Twitter was ablaze with shaky screenshots and wild speculations.

-Are they dating?!- -This is the crossover I didn’t know I needed!- -Lando and Y/N??? MY HEART.-

Onstage, you were mid-chorus, but the sudden roar from the crowd was hard to ignore. Your eyes scanned the sea of people, your heart stuttering when you spotted him. Lando gave a small wave, his smile tugging at the edges of his mouth like he couldn’t quite contain it.

You fought the urge to break character, biting back a grin as you returned your focus to the performance. But your cheeks were warm, and the butterflies in your stomach were undeniable.

-

The show ended with an encore, the crowd’s energy lingering in the air as fans slowly filed out. You darted backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, only to stop short when you saw him leaning casually against the wall near your dressing room.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Lando said, his voice warm and teasing.

You couldn’t help it—you threw yourself into his arms, the scent of his cologne instantly grounding you. He caught you effortlessly, his laughter soft against your hair as he held you close.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your words muffled against his chest.

“Surprising you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Missed you too much. Figured it was time I crashed one of your shows.”

Your heart swelled. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only for you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your waist. “You were incredible out there. I mean, I knew you were good, but seeing you like this…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

The sincerity in his voice left you momentarily speechless, your cheeks heating under his gaze. “You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Norris. Though I think you’ve caused a bit of a stir.”

Lando smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Oh, I noticed. Your fans are relentless. Think I saw my name trending on Twitter halfway through the third song.”

“Serves you right,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice gave you away.

-

You didn’t plan to go public with your relationship that night, but when your manager walked in, phone in hand, and said, “We’ve got paparazzi swarming the back exit,” you knew it was inevitable.

Lando squeezed your hand, his touch steadying. “If you’re ready, I am.”

“You mean it?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He kissed your forehead, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The chaos, the cameras, the noise—it all felt distant, insignificant compared to him.

The two of you walked out together, hand in hand, the backstage photographer snapping candid shots that would be on every gossip site by morning. You didn’t care.

Later, in the car, Lando scrolled through the early posts. He turned his phone to you, showing a picture of the two of you backstage, mid-laugh, your fingers laced together.

“‘The duo we didn’t know we needed,’” he read aloud, chuckling. “Not bad, huh?”

You leaned against his shoulder, your smile soft. “Not bad at all.”

And as the city lights blurred past the windows, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

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*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr