#I have two or three outfits that I’m okay with

[onlyhereforthestories]

Chica Medica - Part 5 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

So its been a while (sorry!) You won't have to wait long for the final few parts of this I am half way through the next part. Thank you all who have stuck with me, this was one of the first things I wrote and I feel a little emotional that it is finally coming to an end. Anyway enough ramble enjoy part 5!

You had gone through your whole wardrobe by this point, and you still couldn’t find the right thing to wear. All your clothes were spread around your room in various states of crinkled from the constant changing you had been doing. Nothing was working together or, or you were not feeling confident in others.

You checked you phone to see you had exactly 23 minutes before Leila and Mapi were due to collect you, so you knew you needed to get a move on. Deciding the only way you were actually going to put anything on over the underwear you currently resided in was with some help, you dialled the number of the only person who could sort you out.

Ona picked up on the second ring, “Hola Hermana, what can I do for you?” her smile and voice had the wave of calm you needed right now to stop your mind from its current running all over the place.

“I need help. I have Christmas drinks with the Barca girls tonight and I don’t know what to wear, I have tried my whole wardrobe on and nothing is right. I need you to just tell me what to wear.” Ona could hear the frustration in your voice.

“I’m guessing you are only this stressed about what you look like because of a certain midfielder, you never care about what you look. I’ve literally been to the club with you in joggers before.” You rolled your eyes at the woman before giving her a pointed look through your phone. Now wasn’t the time for memories or teasing you about the fact that you were hyperaware of the brunette that would in fact see you in the clothes you picked tonight.

“Ona please.” You pulled out the puppy eyes and the bottom lip, both of which you knew would get Ona helping you in a couple seconds flat.

“Oh, you really want my help you’ve pulled out the big guns. Okay show me what I’m working with. Ooooo actually do you still have that black silk shirt? The one you wore to you knows party?” you knew exactly what shirt she meant, it was the only item you had not actually tried on tonight, you’d just chucked it to the side.

“I do yes. Is that not like bad luck or something to wear?” Could you really wear a shirt your ex loved on you so much to a party you were so worried about looking good for because of the new person you had feelings for.

“She didn’t buy it for you I did, and you look really, really hot in it so if you want Alexia to drool over you, I would definitely say wear it.” You found it in the pile of clothes and picked out some beige slacks with the help of Ona, you chatted with the Manchester United player while you got ready and only said goodbye when you heard the doorbell ring.

Getting to the hired club was fun, Mapi and Leila had both complimented your outfit and made comments about who you were trying to impress much to your annoyance. The best thing was they both promised to protect or help you if you needed it, something that you almost chocked up on thanking them for. You were very lucky to have such amazing friends around you.

When the three of you got in you could tell it was going to be a fun night, Pina came running over to you all with Patri hot on her heels both had beers in both hands, and you were all passed one. Apparently, a drink had to be drunk as soon as you got in to be allowed to join the big group at the table.

Not one to back down from any challenge, you smirked at the two younger women who gave you the drink as you held the beer up in a semi cheers to them and downed it in a very easy and quick time. When you wiped your upper lip, you couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Claudia’s face. The younger woman’s jaw was on the floor so to say, and she had a slight spark of awe in her eyes.

What you didn’t know was that Alexia had walked in with Jenni just as you raised your beer so got to watch you smoothly chug it. An action from you that she found very hot indeed and even voiced that accidently out loud which put her on the receiving end of a slap to the back of the head from her best friend.

Righting herself and sending a quick but not really meant sorry to the older woman, Alexia walked just behind the little group surrounding you to the table where she was greeted with her own drink to see off as quickly as she could. She took a lot longer and struggled a lot more than you did to do it.

As the night went on the drinks flowed more and more, you had had your fair share but had stopped once the pleasant buzz had fully kicked in. You really didn’t like the feeling of losing your senses anymore, so you knew when to switch to sodas. Alexia had noticed you do this and chose to do the same thing in order to hopefully talk with you when her confidence wasn’t on the floor.

Confidence or not her opportunity came when Leila dragged the people on your table up and to the dance floor and you waved them away, stating you needed to watch and see what moves they were doing before you could join in. An excuse for sure but Alexia wasn’t going to complain.

Taking a breath to calm her already racing heart she grabbed her drink and walked towards you. “Mind if I join you?”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to come over here once they left. You pleasantly surprised me with a little under a minute.” You faced her with a giggle, which turned into a full on laugh when you saw her cheeks heat up. “I am only messing with you, of course you can sit. In fact, I would really like it if you did.” It was your turn to blush now, the alcohol you had consumed earlier obviously making your lips a little looser then they would normally be.

“I haven’t got a chance to tell you how stunning you look. That shirt is incredible.” Alexia wasn’t hiding her obvious attraction to the outfit you were wearing, in fact you could see it swimming in her gaze.

“You look incredible yourself, I do have to admit that open back dress on you will always get to me.” You were again saying a lot, more than you ever had in fact. Your inner thoughts of tracing the tattoos on her back came to mind and you had to shake your head to clear your mind of that briefly.

You did manage to catch her ducking her head at what you said, and it boosted your confidence a little bit. Deciding that you needed another actual drink now that this situation was clearly happening you decided you were not going to do it alone. “Do you want to get a drink with me?”

“I’d love nothing else. Lead the way, but drinks are on me.” Alexia was standing next to where you were sitting in the booth with her hand held out to you, a hopeful look in her eyes. A hopefully look that turned into full blown joy the second you placed your hand in hers and made to stand up.

Alexia was quick to drag you with her to the bar where she got you both a shot and a normal drinking drink. Those were drunk at the bar, the both of you enjoying the time away from the bulk of the group and slightly further away from the music so you didn’t have to shout so much to hear one another.

Alexia had just downed the last of her drink while making direct eye contact with you, taking the obvious hint she was giving you, you downed the last bit of your own. As you put the glass down on the bar you found a hand placed on the small of your back and your body gently pulled in the direction Ale was moving. You ended up on the dance floor with the rest of the girls, you split of slightly from the woman that was always on your mind so you could join the girls that dragged you here.

You danced with them all for an unknown amount of time, you were having the best time, and it didn’t matter who you were with. Alexia would slide up behind you every so often and get you dancing with her before she let you go back to either Mapi or Leila depending on who was requesting your presence.

As the night progressed and you consumed your final drink, you cut yourself off as you knew this was your limit. You knew that if you drank anymore it would go from a fun slightly heavy night to a messy night. Apparently, Alexia was in agreement because about 30 minutes after that final drink she was heading towards the bar to get water, something that you were planning on doing too.

“Did you get water?” You didn’t realise how much you were pressed up to the woman, but she did. Alexia could feel the curve of you pressed up against her and it was sending her head spinning more than alcohol every could. She took a second to compose herself before glancing over her shoulder and answering you.

“Si.” You smiled before requesting that she made that two. With a water in each of her hands she nudged your shoulder to get you moving back in the direction of the booth you were in earlier.

As you and Alexia returned to the booth, drinks in hand, the atmosphere between you was charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. The club was still buzzing with energy. Laughter and music filled the air, but here in your little corner, everything seemed quieter, more intimate.

You settled in next to Alexia, close enough that your knees brushed under the table. It sent a spark through you, but you focused on your water, taking a long sip to calm the nerves that had been building all night.

"Did you enjoy the dancing?" Alexia asked, her voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your ear, and you tried not to let it affect you too much.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at her with a playful smirk. "Especially when you kept sneaking up behind me."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t break eye contact. "I thought you liked that."

You raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t say I didn’t." The tension between you hung in the air like a charged wire, sparking every time you exchanged a glance or a touch.

For a while, you talked casually; about the team, about the night, both of you skirting around the real conversation neither of you seemed ready to have. But the underlying feeling of something more was undeniable, every small gesture, every laugh shared, seemed to pull you closer.

After a bit of quiet, you glanced over at the dance floor where Leila and Mapi were making a scene with some questionable dance moves. You shook your head, laughing softly. "I don’t know how they manage to be so ridiculous and so fun at the same time."

Alexia grinned. "That’s Mapi and Leila for you. But it looks like they’re having a good time. I think this was really needed for them." You always admired how much the woman cared for her teammates, it was one of the many things that made her such a wonderful captain.

You nodded in agreement but felt the weight of her gaze on you, the air between you growing heavier. The rest of the room faded into the background, and suddenly, sitting so close to her, the only thing you could focus on was the warmth radiating from her body and how easily her presence made your heart race.

Without thinking, you stood up, needing a moment to collect yourself. "I’m going to the bathroom," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "I’ll be right back."

Alexia watched you go, her eyes following you as you made your way through the crowd. The moment you disappeared into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, she stood up, almost on instinct, and followed. She caught up with you just as you reached the door to the bathroom.

"Hey," she called softly, causing you to turn around. Her gaze was intense, her brown eyes darker under the dim club lights. "Wait a second."

You stopped, heart pounding in your chest. "What is it?"

For a moment, Alexia just looked at you, like she was weighing her next words, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you. The hallway was dimly lit, the noise from the club muffled, and the two of you stood close, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.

Her hand brushed yours, a light touch that sent a shiver up your spine. "I—" she began, but whatever words she’d been about to say faded into silence. Instead, she leaned in slowly, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You couldn’t not with her.

Your heart raced as her lips met yours, the kiss slow and deliberate. It wasn’t the rushed, drunken kiss from before; this one was different. It was tender, purposeful, and full of the tension that had been building between you all night. This kiss was meant, you could feel it in the way you both eased into it and melted into one another.

You kissed her back, your hands instinctively moving to her waist, pulling her closer. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the feel of her lips against yours, soft but insistent, like she had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

"I... I’ve been wanting to do that all night," Alexia admitted softly, her thumb brushing over your hand, still entwined with hers. You got slightly lost in the feeling of her warm breath running over your lips as she was still so close to you.

You let out a soft laugh, your heart still pounding in your chest. "I’m glad you did."

Before you could say more, you heard familiar voices approaching from the direction of the club. You glanced at Alexia, the tension still palpable between you.

"We should get back before they notice we’re both gone," you said, though a part of you wasn’t ready for this moment to end. A part of you knew that if you could you would stand here like this with Alexia for as long as she would allow.

Alexia nodded, but her fingers lingered on your hand for a second longer before letting go. "Right. Yes."

Just as you both started to head back to the booth, Leila and Mapi came around the corner, clearly on a mission to find you. "There you are!" Leila exclaimed with a mischievous grin. "We were wondering where our chica medica disappeared to."

Mapi’s eyes flicked between you and Alexia, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Ohhhh, what did we miss?"

You laughed, trying to play it cool. "Nothing much. Just needed a break from all your terrible dancing."

Leila gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "Excuse me, my moves are iconic."

Alexia chuckled beside you, but you could still feel the tension simmering beneath the surface. You weren’t sure if Mapi and Leila could sense it, but you knew you couldn’t stay here much longer without risking more teasing or worse, revealing too much.

"I think I’m going to head home," you said suddenly, glancing at Alexia for a brief second before turning to your friends. "It’s been a long day."

Leila and Mapi exchanged a glance but didn’t push. "We’ll come with you," Leila offered, her tone softer now. "It’s getting late anyway."

"Yeah," Mapi added, clearly sensing there was more going on but choosing not to dig, for now at least. "Let’s get out of here."

As you all made your way out of the club, Alexia stayed close to you, her arm brushing against yours every so often. You didn’t speak much, but the kiss still lingered in the air between you, full of possibility and unanswered questions.

And though you weren’t quite sure what would happen next, for now, you were content knowing that something had shifted between you and Alexia, something that felt too real to ignore.

The final whistle echoed through the stadium, marking the end of the last game before Christmas. The team had secured a comfortable win, and the energy in the locker room was buzzing with excitement. You smiled, watching the others as they celebrated, but your mind was already elsewhere, on the gift you’d been planning for Alexia.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and you both had flights to catch you were heading home to your family, and Alexia was off to Dubai for a much-deserved break as well as the award ceremony she had to attend. Despite the unspoken tension between you, the connection had only grown deeper, especially after that night at the club. But there were still so many things left unsaid, and you wanted to give her something so that she knows you are thinking of her over the break.

The present you had picked wasn’t overly sentimental, but it was personal. Something that could remind her of your time together while not being overly obvious to anyone outside of the two of you. You had chosen a silver necklace with a pendant that had a small wave on it, echoing the tattoo she had on her arm. To you, the wave symbolized something constant and unyielding just like the ocean, always in motion but forever steady. It was your way of telling her that, no matter what storms or calm seas lay ahead, you would be there, quietly supporting her, just as the ocean never stops flowing. You remembered a conversation you had shared about her tattoo and how it made you feel, how it reminded you that even when things are chaotic, some things, like your care for her, would always remain steady.

Attached to the box that held the necklace was a simple note with "Open on Christmas" written across the top in your neat handwriting. You didn’t dare give it to her directly, it wasn’t a grand gesture, but the idea of watching her reaction made your stomach flutter nervously.

As the team headed for the showers, you saw your chance. While everyone was distracted, you slipped over to Alexia’s bag. Glancing around to make sure no one noticed, you carefully placed the small box deep inside, just under her change of clothes. The note, tucked on top of the box, would be the first thing she’d see when she unpacked the bag later.

Your heart raced a little as you zipped her bag back up, the nerves making your hands slightly shaky. You weren’t sure what Alexia would think, but you hoped she’d at the very least like the necklace, even if she didn’t appreciate the meaning.

Just as you finished, Mapi walked by, oblivious to what you’d just done. "Hey, you ready to head out?" she asked, a wide grin on her face.

"Yeah," you replied, forcing a calmness into your voice. "Just about."

As the rest of the team began to gather their things, you exchanged a few quick goodbyes. With the Christmas break upon you, you’d all be going your separate ways for the holidays. You lingered for a moment, watching Alexia as she packed up her own bag, a small smile playing on her lips as she laughed at something Jenni said. You wondered when she’d find the present, and a nervous excitement built in your chest. You just hoped shed find it before she left, the logical part of your brain knew she would. Alexia couldn’t not unpack and clean away her kit bag after every session, it was something she had told you at the start of your time together.

That evening Alexia did exactly as you thought she would, she was slightly distracted with thoughts of you, slightly annoyed at herself for not speaking to you before she left the grounds. As she unpacked her bag, Alexia pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on getting comfortable. She was just about to pull out her toiletries when her fingers brushed against something unexpected, something small and wrapped. Frowning, she pulled it out from the bottom of her bag, her breath catching when she saw the small box wrapped in simple paper with a note attached.

"Open on Christmas," it read in your familiar handwriting, the instructions clear.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of Alexia’s lips as she ran her thumb over the words. You had managed to sneak this into her bag without her noticing, and now, holding the gift in her hands, a warmth spread through her chest. It was thoughtful, quiet, just like you had always been when it came to her.

The next morning, Christmas Eve arrived, and the airport was packed with travellers rushing to get home or off on holiday. You were there early, having left for your flight to see your family. As you waited in line at security, you couldn’t stop thinking about the gift you’d left in Alexia’s bag. You pictured her finding it when she unpacked, seeing the note telling her to wait until Christmas to open it. You just hoped she listened to it and took it with her.

Part of you felt nervous, wondering if it was too much or maybe not enough. But you pushed the thoughts aside as your boarding group was called. You checked your phone one last time and saw a message from Mapi, teasing you about the quiet night in before you both left.

You responded with a quick laugh emoji, then turned off your phone as you headed through the gate.

Later that morning, Alexia was checking in for her flight to Dubai. She was looking forward to the break, but her mind kept drifting back to the past few weeks, and more specifically, to you. Things had felt different lately, not just because of the kiss, but because of how you seemed to understand her in a way not many people did.

She sighed softly, adjusting her carry-on bag as she walked through the airport. The team had celebrated last night, and now they were all headed in different directions. As she sat down in the waiting area for her flight, she thought back to the locker room, wondering if she’d missed her chance to say something to you before you left. But then again, you had both left so many things unsaid.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an announcement for boarding. She stood up, rolling her shoulders to relax, and joined the line for her flight. As she settled into her seat on the plane, she tucked her bag under the seat in front of her, the box with the note she discovered last night tucked neatly in a pocket inside the bag.

After a long flight from Barcelona, Alexia finally landed in Dubai, exhausted but relieved to be away from the whirlwind of the season for a few days. The city sparkled beneath the night sky as she made her way to the hotel, her thoughts wandering to the time off she would finally have to herself.

Once inside her hotel room, the silence felt both comforting and strange. The entire flight had been spent mulling over the last few weeks, her thoughts drifting to you more than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t been able to figure out where she stood with you, especially after that kiss, and the uncertainty had left her unsettled.

Her mind was also on the wrapped gift she now had put on the desk in her hotel room, she could see it from her place laying on the bed. She didn’t get you anything which wasn’t because she didn’t want to, she was just scared it wasn’t the right move. Apparently, you had the bigger balls of the two.

She got up and walked to where the gift was placed, she picked it up and re read the little note on top. Her mind involuntarily making her smile at the thought of you scribbling it. She turned it over a few times contemplating whether to open it now or not.

But it wasn’t Christmas yet, and despite the temptation to tear it open right then and there, Alexia placed the small box on the nightstand. She’d wait until midnight. It wasn’t long, and she wanted to do it properly.

As the evening passed, she showered, had a light dinner, and spent some time aimlessly scrolling through her phone. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the gift waiting for her. The curiosity of what you had chosen for her grew with each passing minute, and as the clock crept closer to midnight, the anticipation made her heart beat just a little faster.

Finally, when her phone’s clock ticked over to 12:00, Alexia got up and reached for the gift, her fingers carefully undoing the wrapping. She peeled away the paper slowly, savouring the moment, until she uncovered the small box underneath. Her breath hitched slightly as she lifted the lid, revealing a delicate silver necklace nestled inside, with a tiny, intricately engraved wave symbol on a pendant.

For a long moment, Alexia just stared at it, running her fingers gently over the pendant. The wave it was very similar to the one she forever has on her arm. She understood it immediately. The constant, steady flow of the ocean, like how you had been there for her, quietly supporting her through her physical recovery and beyond. It was personal, thoughtful, and most of all perfect.

Her eyes fell on the folded note tucked inside the box. She unfolded it carefully, her heart thudding in her chest as she read your words:

Ale,

For all the times you’ve been my steady wave, keeping me grounded even when you didn’t know it. Merry Christmas.

Y/N

Alexia’s breath caught in her throat as she read the message. She hadn’t expected to feel this much emotion over a simple gift, but the weight of your words settled deep in her chest. It wasn’t just the bracelet, it was everything. The way you had been there for her, listening to her, supporting her, even when she hadn’t been sure of her own feelings. The message was your feelings about her, but they very much reflected her own for you too.

She leaned back against the pillows, the necklace still resting in her palm as she stared at it, feeling the emotions swell up inside her. It wasn’t just a gift. It was a message, one that told her, in no uncertain terms, that you were thinking of her, that you cared. That you might well always care if she would let you.

For the first time in a long time, Alexia allowed herself to think about what might come next. You were more than just her physiotherapist. You had become someone important, someone she couldn’t stop thinking about.

As she slipped the necklace around her neck, she made a quiet promise to herself. When she returned to Barcelona, she’d talk to you. Really talk. She wasn’t going to let this connection slip away, not after everything that had happened between you.

She glanced at the clock again, the soft ticking of the seconds filling the quiet room. It was Christmas now, and despite the miles between you, Alexia felt closer to you than she had in weeks. Smiling softly, she ran her fingers over the pendant one more time before closing her eyes, your words still lingering in her mind.

Merry Christmas.

Christmas with your family had been exactly what you needed. It had been cozy, familiar, and full of the warmth you'd missed while away in Spain. You'd spent a few extra days with them, catching up on lost time and letting yourself fully relax before heading back to reality. But after a while, the pull to reconnect with old friends had you itching to get out of the house.

It was Ona, of course, who suggested you stay in England a little longer after Christmas. "Why rush back?" she had said over FaceTime, her face lighting up at the idea. "We don’t have training for another few days, and you deserve some downtime with your friends. Take it."

You’d agreed, and soon you found yourself planning a few nights out with some of your old friends from the England team. That included Leah. The tension between you and her had lessened, especially after you had decided that a proper conversation was long overdue. There were still things to be said, things you couldn’t quite walk away from until they were fully resolved.

So, it was then that you found yourself out with a mix of friends from your past clubs, including Leah, Beth, and a few others. It was a relaxed evening at a familiar bar, drinks flowing and laughter filling the air. You weren’t overly worried about how it might look, knowing that everything with Leah was firmly in the past. But the conversation needed to happen, and tonight felt like the right time.

You and Leah stepped away from the group for a moment, moving to a quieter corner where you could talk privately. The noise of the bar created a bubble of privacy around you both as you began to speak.

"I’ve been meaning to say this for a while," Leah started, her voice soft but steady. "I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I know I didn’t handle things well, and it hurt you more than I realized at the time."

You nodded, appreciating her honesty. It wasn’t easy to dig into the past, but this conversation felt necessary. "It wasn’t easy for either of us," you admitted. "But I’m glad we’re talking about it now. I think we both needed this. I think it’s time for us to both let go of the past and move on with our lives."

Leah smiled, the tension between you dissolving as the conversation continued. It was nothing more than an honest exchange, two people clearing the air. But what you didn’t know was that in the background, someone else had unknowingly captured the moment on their phone.

Beth Mead had been recording a playful story for Instagram, filming some of the team dancing and enjoying the night out. In the background, just out of focus, you and Leah were caught in a seemingly intimate conversation, standing close as you talked quietly. It was innocent, but without context, the image could easily be misinterpreted.

Thousands of miles away, in the luxury of her hotel in Dubai, Alexia scrolled through her phone after a long day. The trip had been relaxing so far, a much-needed break from the intensity of the season, but her thoughts kept drifting back to you. She hadn’t heard much from you since before Christmas, and the uncertainty of where you stood with each other was gnawing at her.

Her thumb paused over an Instagram story from Beth Mead, recognizing several familiar faces in the crowd. She smiled at the sight of you laughing with your friends, but as the story continued to play, her heart dropped. In the background of the video, you and Leah were standing together, heads close, deep in conversation. The image of the two of you, smiling and looking comfortable with each other, sent a pang of jealousy straight through her.

She stared at the screen for a long moment, her mind racing. Were you getting back together with Leah? Had she misread everything between the two of you?

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and opened her messages, typing out a quick message to Ona.

Ale: Hey, I saw something. Is Y/N back with Leah? They were together at a bar, looked... close. Just want to know.

The message sent, and Alexia sat there, biting her lip as she waited for a reply. The logical part of her knew she shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but the image from the story kept replaying in her mind. What if you were moving on with Leah? What if she had missed her chance?

It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed with Ona’s response:

Ona: It’s not my place to say anything, Ale, but trust me it’s not what you’re thinking. Just... give her time to explain when she’s ready.

Alexia stared at the message, her heart still unsettled. Ona’s words were somewhat reassuring, but they weren’t enough to silence the nagging doubt in her mind. She didn’t want to overstep, but the thought of losing you to Leah, especially after everything you and Alexia had shared, was hard to swallow.

Back in England, you were unaware of the storm brewing. The night had ended on a positive note, with you and Leah parting on good terms, both of you agreeing that the past was where it belonged. You felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt like you were finally in a place where you could move forward and you had in mind the person you wanted to do that with, hopefully.

It wasn’t until the next morning, when you checked your phone, that you noticed a missed call from Ona. Confused, you called her back immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, leaning back against your bed, still feeling the contentment of last night’s resolution with Leah.

Ona’s voice was calm but cautious. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Alexia saw a video from last night of you and Leah. She asked if you were back together.”

Your stomach dropped. “What? No, we were just talking. Clearing the air.”

“I know,” Ona reassured you. “But the video doesn’t exactly show the context. You two were in the background, and I think Alexia got the wrong idea. Well actually I know she did.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. Of course, Alexia would see that. Of all the things to misinterpret... You could picture her in Dubai, overthinking everything, and the thought made your chest tighten.

“What should I do?” you asked, feeling the weight of the situation now settling over you.

“I didn’t tell her anything beyond that it wasn’t what she thought. But you might want to talk to her, explain things when you’re ready,” Ona suggested. "She’s over there worrying, Y/N. It’s not my business, but I can tell she’s thinking the worst, which I know isn’t fair to you. You both have baggage, and you haven’t worked this all out yet, you need to talk to each other. And properly Y/N."

You nodded, even though Ona couldn’t see you. “Yeah I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been great at doing that. I wanted to sort the Leah thing before I had that conversation with Ale but maybe I should have been a bit more open after the other night. I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Ona.”

After hanging up, you stared at your phone, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You knew you needed to talk to Alexia, to clear up the misunderstanding. But a part of you also wondered, what did this mean for the two of you. If Alexia was bothered by you being seen with your ex that much surely that had to be a sign of something right. Before you let your head run too much with this, you got out of bed and joined you family for one of your final days before heading back to Barcelona.

Christmas Day passed quietly for Alexia, it was just her mother and sister with her in Dubai, which is all she really needed. It was a much-needed break from the whirlwind of her career, but her mind kept drifting back to you. The silver necklace with the wave pendant had become her constant companion since she found it in her bag and she hadn’t taken it off since she opened it mere minutes into Christmas Day.

She ran her fingers over the pendant absentmindedly as she prepared for the Globe Soccer Awards, where she would be picking up the Women’s Player of the Year award. It was an honour, something she had worked hard for, yet the excitement that usually accompanied such recognition felt muted by the unease sitting heavy in her chest.

Ever since she had seen that Instagram story of you and Leah, a knot of doubt had been tightening inside her. She kept replaying the image in her mind, how close you and Leah had seemed, how comfortable. It had been days since she’d seen it, but she hadn’t reached out to you. She wasn’t sure what to say. Ona’s message had reassured her slightly, but the doubt lingered. Especially as you also hadn’t reached out to her.

As she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the elegant outfit she had chosen for the awards, Alexia glanced down at the necklace resting against her skin. The wave, a symbol you had described so thoughtfully, felt heavier now. She knew what it meant, how much care and thought had gone into your gift, but that only made the misunderstanding hurt more. If you and Leah were rekindling things, where did that leave you and her?

Later that night, under the glittering lights of the awards ceremony, Alexia was announced as the Women's Player of the Year. The room erupted in applause as she made her way to the stage, graciously accepting the award with a quiet smile. She gave a heartfelt speech, thanking her teammates, coaches, and family for their constant support, but even as she spoke, her thoughts were elsewhere, on you.

The night continued in a blur of congratulations and photographs, but Alexia’s mind remained clouded. By the time she returned to her hotel room, the weight of the day had caught up with her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone buzzed with notifications, messages from friends, fans, and teammates congratulating her.

She opened Instagram, scrolling through the flood of posts from the ceremony. As she crafted her own post, thanking everyone for their support, she hesitated. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and almost instinctively, she glanced down at the wave pendant resting against her chest. Without thinking too much, she typed a line from your note into part of the caption.

And finally Merry Christmas. Sometimes in life you need your wave to keep you steady, even when you don’t realise it.

It was a subtle nod to you, one that no one else would pick up on, but she knew you would.

Alexia posted the picture: a candid shot of her holding the award, smiling at the camera with her necklace peeking just slightly into view. That along with the end of the caption she hoped would be enough to show you what the gift and you meant to her. Well at least until the conversation could be had, if you wanted it still after the Christmas break.

Back in England, you scrolled through Instagram while waiting for your flight back to Spain. It had been a whirlwind few days, catching up with friends, clearing the air with Leah and now, you were finally heading back home. As you mindlessly flicked through your feed, Alexia’s post popped up.

You stopped, your breath catching in your throat as you read the caption. It was your words, changed slightly, but still the meaning you had written in the note attached to the necklace. The same words that carried all the meaning behind your gift, now reflected back at you in a public post for the world to see.

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, wondering what this meant. Did Alexia understand the depth of your message? Did she feel the same way? Or was this her way of saying goodbye before you’d even had a chance to explain?

Without thinking, you opened your messages and hesitated before typing a quick text to Ona.

Did Alexia say anything to you about that post?

Ona responded almost immediately, as if she had been waiting for you to reach out.

She didn’t mention it to me, but I know she’s been thinking about you. You should talk to her.

Your fingers hovered over your phone as you debated what to do next. The conversation with Leah had cleared the air, but now you were left with a different kind of uncertainty, one that involved Alexia and the feelings that had grown between you. And whether you were really ready for that again.

Taking a deep breath, you opened a new message to Alexia, your heart pounding as you typed.

Hey, I saw your post. I think we should talk when you get back.

The next few days passed slowly as Alexia remained in Dubai, the distance between you both growing heavier with every passing moment. The wave pendant rested against her chest, a constant reminder of you. And as Christmas turned into the new year, the tension between you both, fuelled by misunderstandings, unspoken feelings and lack of communication, remained unresolved, waiting for the moment when you could finally have the conversation that had been building for so long.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 22

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21

1.6k words

While you absolutely needed summer clothes you got the feeling that Bira had something extra in mind. At least your husband seemed to like it!

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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“Thanks for helping me with this” you said as Bira lead you through the busy streets.

“Of course! I’m not going to let you drop dead from the heat! I’m just happy Zen’jan waved me down to let me know” Bira responded.

It was quite a walk to the shop, tucked into a corner of the city that was mostly minotaurs, though Bira assured you several times her friend who owed the shop would be able to help.

“Hoonti!” Bira practically yelled as the two of you entered the shop.

The minotaur woman behind the counter looked and smiled, “Bira!” and the two quickly launched into an animated conversation in orcish.

“This is Hoonti, a long time friend of mine” Bira introduced, “and one of the best tailors I know. She’s going to take your measurements and ask a few questions and get started on making you a few things to start with”.

“Sounds good!” you answered.

Hoonti got right to work, buzzing about you with her measuring tape while Bira translated her questions.

“Any preferences for colors? Or any colors you absolutely don’t want?” Bira translated.

“Nothing too bright” you said.

“That’s no fun!” said Bira.

Bira was almost always in bright colors and clothes with fancy trim or details, though Zen always dressed pretty simply. He seemed to be the odd one out though, most of the trolls in the city seemed to be more like Bira with bright, highly detailed clothes and lots of jewelry. The closet thing to jewelry you ever saw Zen wear were the gold bands at the base of his tusks, though he had gotten you a few bracelets and necklaces.

“Okay okay okay, nothing too bright but let me pick one outfit for you, please!” Bira practically begged.

“One outfit” you repeated firmly.

“Just one! And I promise you’ll like it, and so will Zen’jan! It’ll make him happy”.

You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t worry, it’s just something traditional but it needs to be bright! Just trust me” she said.

“Sure”.

Many rounds of questions later and Bira and you were leaving the shop with the promise that Hoonti would drop the clothes off in a few days when she was done.

“So, you and Zen’jan” Bira began.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“He seems a lot happier than usual recently”

You could not help but smile a bit over that. There had been a shift in Zen over the last week, he was more relaxed around the house and was comfortable taking up space. He sat and stood up straight, no longer always trying to make himself smaller, he lounged and stretched out across the bed, he constantly showed you little affections like a hand on your shoulder or waist for a moment when he walked past or a quick nuzzle where he could.

“It’s been a good week” you smiled.

“Well, it’s good to hear that. He’s been doing better in general since you got married, he doesn’t look so tired and drained all the time anymore. He’s never been the best at taking care of himself, though it looks like he’s getting better about it though now that he has someone else to take care of”.

Bira showed you a few more of her favorite places around the city before walking you home.

“I’m happy he has you” Bira told you as she hugged you.

“I’m happy I have him too” you told her.

Three days later Bira and Hoonti showed up in the middle of the day laden with new clothes for you. Skirts, pants, shirts, and dresses of varying lengths, colors, and styles and much better suited for the weather than anything you brought.

They both fawned over you while you tried stuff on, it felt silly with how they fussed over you, but it was still fun.

“Ok ok, last one!” Bira called and handed you the last outfit.

It was several pieces all in a rich shade of red and trimmed with shiny gold embroidery and pearls.

“And I’m guessing this is what you were so excited about?” you asked.

“Just try it on!” she was so excited.

You ducked back into the bathroom to untangle the pieces; a pair of shorts, a wide rectangle of fabric with the beautiful embroidery on one long edge, and a longer thinner rectangle of fabric with the same embroidery in the center of one of the long edges.

“I’m going to need an explanation” you called from the bathroom.

“Shorts on, the wide rectangle ties over the shorts as a skirt, and just wrap the other around you and I’ll help”.

The shorts were shorter than you would have liked, the skirt came down to your mid thighs but because it was tied together it left quite a slit up the side where you tied it on you hip. You wrapped the other piece around you and shuffled out of the bathroom feeling rather exposed.

“Really?” you asked Bira.

“Yes! You’ve seen me in stuff like this! Don’t act so surprised!”

She helped you with the top, wrapping it behind your back and crossing it over your chest and tying it behind your neck. It left your midriff bare, but much to you surprise it at least covered a good amount of your chest.

“Absolutely perfect” Bira smiled.

“Its short” you muttered back.

“It’s good for hot weather, and for dancing! There’s a few festivals coming up that it’s perfect for. And I bet Zen’jan will like it, you should keep it on for when he gets home”.

You chatted with Bira and Hoonti for a while before both left to go about their day. You had to admit you had a lot of movement freedom in the outfit, and while it showed off a lot more than you were used to it was comfy and did look good.

Zen came home later that afternoon, in the last week he had been coming home earlier.

“I hope you do not mind, I stopped by the market in my way home and just picked up- wow” he paused when he saw you.

“It’s looks alright?” you asked.

“More than alright, you look incredible” he sat the food down and crossed the room, quickly placing his hands on your hips while he took a moment to take you in.

“Bira said it would be a good outfit for some festivals coming up”.

“It is, though now I am going to have to actually dress up for festivals to keep up with you” he pulled you closer until you were pressed against him and you could feel him purring.

You could also feel him hard against you. The two of you had been bathing together and sleeping naked, though both of you chose to ignore anything other than cuddling for now.

Zen was breathing hard and you could feel his heart racing being so close to him. He leaned down and nuzzled his forehead against yours before pulling you into deep kiss, wasting no time parting you lips and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

It caught you off guard. Zen never initiated anything, he always carefully waited for you to lean into him to cuddle, or for you to kiss him first. His grip on your hips tightened and you felt him grinding against you, felt the way he panted and moaned into your mouth, how his whole body heaved with every breath.

By the time he pulled away you were breathing just as hard, your heart racing while you looked up at him.

“I am sorry” he muttered, “Was that alright?”

You did not answer, instead you tangled your hands into hair and pulled him back in for another kiss. This time you pressed yourself against him and pulled him close just as much as he did to you. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and ran it along the base of his tusks before pulling back a bit and letting him lead again. His tongue nearly filled your mouth and you happily teased him by sucking on his tongue a bit.

Kissing him was never an elegant affair. His tusks always bumped the sides on your face and you also could not tilt your head at the right angle while you were wedged between them. Then mismatch in size between the two of you meant his mouth always entirely covered yours in an odd way, and it all added up to some rather wet, clumsy, and messy kissing but neither of you minded.

His hand drifted lower, cupping your backside and pulling you to rub against him, leaving an ache between your legs. Besides the night you had gotten drunk together, he had not so much as even hinted at anything more than cuddling, his sudden forward was was a bit odd but not unwelcome.

You pulled away from the kiss, “So, formal wear does it for you?” you teased, though at that moment he had also chosen to nudge your legs apart and press his thigh up against your center, making you collapse forward against his chest and let out a soft moan.

“When I come home and my beautiful wife is all dressed up for me it does” his voice was low in your ear and you could hear the need dripping from it. “And as beautiful as you look all dressed up for me, right now all I can think about is helping you out of it all, if you will let me”.

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Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen @krayziee

[befemininenow]

We may be wearing the same clothes, but the all the types of boys will be crushing for us tonight!

“Just imagine all the attention we’re going to get!” said Samantha with excitement. Samantha, another Mexican girl, but well into her early 30s, is like the older sister-type that many look up to. She’s a little older than you and has more experience being a trans woman compared to you and Alexa, but she’s very friendly and extroverted enough to have a big social circle. She’s been friends for Alexa for a while and she’s been wishing to take her for a night out. To Samantha, it’s not only a surprise that she’s agreeing to go out, but also invited a new friend (you) to tag along.

“I’m surprised you decided to join. What made you come out of your shell?” “My new friend was interested in knowing this club, but only if I went. Honestly, I’m a little scared.” “Ay, chica, you’re going to be okay. Think about it. Free entry, free drinks, great music, and hot guys! Maybe you’ll meet your sweet prince tonight. Isn’t that right?” You agree with Sam and tell her you want to go out as three girls. “Your friend is right. Just let go of that fear and be yourself all night. That’s how you’ll get out of your shell.” Alexa is still a little worried, but you hold her hand tell her, “If you need anything, we’ll be there for you. Let’s agree to be at the same place until the end of the night. Deal?” Even though she’s not fully convinced, Alexa feels a little easier knowing she has two other hot girls with her. No way anyone else would have the same outfit, right?

“It’s a deal.” “Woohoo! Vámonos!” You just hope you made the right choice.

(End of the first day)

[malachitezmeyka]

My aunt caught the ‘only uses voice messages’ disease from my cousin and I, who would rather not talk to a good chunk of my family members if I could, am just sitting here freaking out bc idk if it’s important or she’s just wondering how I’m doing or whatever, but I also spent 24 hours at grandma’s place so I’m all outta spoons from family interactions and you can’t listen to voice messages without opening whatsapp so she’ll see if I read and don’t respond…

My point is, if you can type, fucking type I can’t do this anymore

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Four

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Warning: Obessive behavior, Yandere tendencies, su*c*de/death.

A/N: Finally adding warning labels. We’re getting somewhere. I’ve had some of this written out, but had to add some stuff in to drive it home. Reader’s coping skills are failing, but everyone’s starting to get obsessive. Also, I’ve been fighting myself on drawing art for this. (I’m a bit out of practice.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Reader has basically called befriending Damian and Jason a lost cause.

Bruce still avoids reader. And, everyone else is still busy with what Reader assumes is Batwork. (Which is fine, Reader is fine. It’s not like they’re stuck in the manor pacing the halls every damn day.)

Cass and Duke’s get back from their respective missions. They weren’t gone too long, but they’re come back a bit roughed up. They debrief with Bruce and then have to go back to being civilians.

Reader is waiting to comfort them. Not to confront them. Reader’s more concerned with how Duke has a mild limp and how Cass’s knuckles have some bruising than them ditching. Plus, reader is still not completely sure that her family is Gotham’s vigilantes. They need to confirm.

But, Duke and Cass both appreciate Reader checking on them and not asking questions. Cass suspects Reader suspects something, judging by Reader’s body language. But, it’s nice for someone who’s naturally soft to be soft with you.

Duke appreciates how Reader treats him so, normally. In a way it reminds him of his childhood, when things were easier. He has a normal friend now, completely mostly free of Gotham’s crazy.

Reader is happy their back, but disappointed that they won’t be going to the school gala. In fact, a few family members make comments about how it sounds like a waste of time.

Bruce, however, is actually happy Reader is excited. And, Reader gets even more excited when one of their new friends ask to be their date. Reader’s date is so genuinely excited about going to this Gala with Reader. (Uh-oh, that’s not good.)

Some of Reader’s other friends, the more haughty and wealthy ones, tell Reader that they should’ve picked someone more… refined. Which Reader defends that their Date is perfectly sweet and good looking to boot.

But, this leads Reader to decide not to tell anyone in the family about their date. They don’t want to hear the same thing from their Gotham family. Reader does inform BFF, younger brother, and Nana of their date. For some reason, BFF was a bit disgruntled, and even Nana tried to convince them it was probably best not to go. Younger Brother was encouraging reader to have fun. (But he was whispering into the phone, and asking Reader if he could come visit them soon. Please. People are acting weird here. Is everything okay, do you need me to come home. No. No. Don’t— It’s fine. I just wanna come visit you.)

But, reader was committed to going and enjoying their date and wearing their custom made outfit.

That night, Reader was given Bruce’s permission to get ready at one of their friends’ houses. Reader was practically spoiled by their friends, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Their date meet them at the Gala escorting them inside and having a wonderful time. (I hope it last. It’s not going to though. How sad.)

At the end of the night, their Date escorted them home. To end a near perfect night Reader got a kiss. A long and pretty heated kiss. Right in front of the Entrance camera.

Tim had pulled up the camera feed when Reader got home, at Bruce’s request, just to check on Reader. (He was going to do it anyway.) The entire family was winding down from Patrol in the Batcave when the feed came on. Leaving them all to get a front row seat to Reader’s little act of rebellion.

(That’s all this was, right. Just a little act of rebellion. This won’t happen again, obviously. They won’t fucking let it.)

Bruce is livid. It doesn’t help that Jason wolf-whistles to further enrage him. (Jason is making plans to break someone’s leg though. Possibly the Dates. How fucking dare they corrupt you, that’s his job.)

Stephane is honestly impressed, didn’t think Reader had it in them. (How cute! I wonder what we could get up to together.)

Duke, sweet Duke, didn’t want to see that. His (best) friend getting tongued down on camera. He’s going to need bleach and therapy. (Why would you do that? When you can just game with him. You’re his bro. Gross.)

Cassandra is… understanding. Reader has needs. Reader wants affection. That’s fine. But, not that one. Pick someone else. (Llet her pick, actually. You can’t read people like her, you need someone better. Someone you she can trust. She needs to approve of them first.)

Dick is more disapproving, but he understands. Still, this changes how he sees Reader. Sweet innocent helpless Reader has a wild side. (But still reader is clearly helpless, obviously they don’t know what they’re doing.)

It also changes how Barbara sees Reader. Or confirms. Barbara runs under the assumption that Reader is more like Bruce than anyone realizes. (She’s not wrong, but it’s not in the way she thinks.) Bruce is a bit of natural flirt, he just hides it in his ‘Brucie’ persona. Reader apparently takes after that. (Damian sure didn’t.)

Damian, is disgusted, disappointed, and disapproving. He doesn’t doubt Father will scold you, but your date needs to be dealt with and all other suitors as well. (He’ll take care of it. He’s your brother, that’s his job.)

Tim, however, is legitimately jealous. He wanted to see this side of reader first. He got a glimpse of it before, but he wants it for himself now that he sees the full thing. (Also, right in front of the camera? Did Reader know it was there? If they did, would they be okay with Tim filming them more? Just to observe, please.)

Tim immediately starts pulling up all the information he can about Reader’s date. Without Bruce’s prompting this time. Bruce does nod in approval before marching to the entrance. Intent on putting an end to this and giving Reader a firm talking to.

It goes, horribly. Date is forced to leave and Bruce tears into Reader. (What happened to the outfit I bought you? Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? I didn’t approve of this. I don’t care that you’re back on time or that you’re old enough, you’re my child! Mine! You get my approval first.)

Reader stays composed, barely. The good news is that the brutal scolding is the only consequence Reader faces. (Bruce is more upset about Reader not seeking his approval than doing something he disapproves of. He’s your father. He should have a damn say. Would you have done this to D̴̖̞͑̊̓a̷͎͗̇d̸̜͍̩̓̎d̸̪̩̟̆̎y̶̛̼̌? Why are you doing this to him?)

The bad news, Reader’s date’s life is over. With just a few clicks from Tim and approval from Bruce, Date’s family company falling apart. Reported to the government, lawsuits filed by third-parties. Hidden debts needing to be collected NOW. Any misfiled taxes? Found and reported. And, most importantly, all calls and ways for Date to contact reader again, blocked.

Socially and financially, Date’s life is ruined in less than twenty-four hours. Worst of all, Reader doesn’t know. They’re still on cloud nine about the night, despite Bruce’s lecture. But, come Sunday morning, two days later, things fall apart.

Date is reported dead. Apparent suic1de just the night before. The financial implosion of the family was named the apparent reason.

Reader is distraught, confused, and hurt. What happened? What’s going on? This can’t be happening. I don’t want to lose anymore people I care about. I don’t want to lose someone like Momma and Daddy again.

Reader’s Gotham friends console Reader, saying it’s not their fault. That Date struggled with thought before. Don’t blame yourself. (They weren’t worth your time.)

Surprisingly enough, it’s Dick that finds reader having a borderline breakdown.

Dick clings and coddles and coos, but this time. Reader clings back. Reader clings back tight. Desperate for comfort. Which is surprising for Dick.

Most of the family tends to brush off his attempts at comfort until they hit rock bottom. For once, this isn’t someone hitting rock bottom before they need him. This is someone that’s just genuinely sad and overwhelmed and needs wants him.

Dick also ran under the assumption that Reader was allergic to affection, like Damian and Bruce. But, apparently, that wasn’t the case. It’s a nice feeling. To have someone not fight him when he tries to be comforting. Someone who is happy to take it. Of course, he doesn’t stay long. Once Reader pulls themselves together he’s got to get back to Buldhaven, but this time he leaves a bit slower. (But, him leaving somehow makes Reader feel worse.)

[babygorewhore]

New perspective

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Two best friends alone in a room…nothing will happen, right?

Warnings! Perv!Spencer! Masturbation! Panty stealing! Oral! Fem receiving! Unprotected sex! Degrading! Praise! Barely proofread

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“So. You waiting for a certain cute brown haired boy to return?” Garcia quipped as you tapped your pen against the desk. You rolled your eyes at her while the blonde gave you a smirk with her pink painted smile.

“For the last time, he’s my best friend. That’s all. And yes I’m waiting for him to get back. He’s been gone for almost a week and we’ve had to reschedule movie night three times.” You grumbled as you crossed your legs.

“Three times? Reid never misses those. Everything okay?” Garcia asks with a sympathetic look and you sigh.

“Yeah. He was on a date the first time. The second time he fell asleep and the third was a date again.” You tried to keep your voice as casual as possible but your friend senses the hidden pang of jealously threatening to come out.

“Well-“ She began and then her expression turned when she saw something above you. You shifted in your seat and saw the agents exiting the elevator.

Hotch gave you a curt nod, Rossi gave you a smile, Emily and JJ waved while Morgan winked at you. You bit your lip in anticipation as you finally saw Spencer walk out. His floppy waves were flicked out of his face as he jerked his head and flashed his eyebrows at you in a greeting.

You stood, shoes padding the carpeted floor as your work pants flowed against your thighs. “Hey Spencer. Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Sorry I haven’t really been able to check in with you. Kidnapping cases are a race against time and the unsub happened to be a woman.” You nod as you withhold the urge to hug him but he shifts beside you and leans against your desk.

“A woman? That’s not common is it?”

“Statistically speaking-“ and then he was rambling. You bit back a smile and listened contently as Spencer caught you up on the case.

Several seconds went by and you cleared your throat, signaling him to slow down. “I know you’re probably worn out but would you want to join me for movie night?”

Spencer nods rapidly. “Yes! Sorry I’ve had to reschedule a few times. What’s on the watchlist tonight?” He extends his elbow and you wrap your hand around it.

“Hmm, you pick. Since it’s your first day back.” You smile at him as he leads you both to clock out.

Spencer Reid was a man with reasonable amounts of self control but every single time he came into your apartment, he couldn’t prevent himself from sneaking a pair of panties into his pocket. It was completely off limits. You were his friend and didn’t look at him that way. You were a gorgeous, sensible and caring woman but he couldn’t possible be your type. Derek Morgan was someone he’d always pair you with. Someone with more confidence. Except now, he was searching for a pair of underwear in your room while you made snacks in the kitchen. You had changed into an oversized evil dead t shirt and shorts. Knee socks to top it all off and all Spencer wanted to do was rip them off and have his way with you but he’d settle for licking a strip in the middle of your thong.

He couldn’t imagine what the real thing tasted like. A pretty pussy hidden away in those little outfits you wore everyday at work. Spencer also had a habit of jerking off hidden away in an office, his dick painfully hard whenever he imagined fucking you.

His car was another spot, where he’d moan your name over and over again picturing your mouth wrapped around his cock. You’d wear the prettiest lipstick too and he’d catch peeks of a pink tongue whenever you ate something. Spencer almost felt like a dog with how pathetic he was for you. Yet he couldn’t admit it to you. His shyness won over every time. He even lied about dating. He just didn’t want you to think he was completely incapable of having a relationship but no one could ever replace you.

“Spencer? You okay? You coming back?” You called from the other room and he quickly straightened. Pulling your panties into his pocket and shuffling out of your bedroom. He smoothed a hand over his hair and hurried to sit down on the couch.

You held two bowls of popcorn, candy and a few other items with your hips swaying as you plopped next to him. “Your food sir.” Spencer had to swallow painfully at the term and the way your voice sounded saying Sir.

“Thank you.” He replied and shifted his body slightly away from you to hide his hardening dick.

You both watched in silence but Spencer caught glimpses of you and the way your body filled out your clothes. He wanted nothing more than to let his hands and mouth cover every each of you. It was almost unbearable.

“How was your date?” Your sudden question alarmed him and Spencer jerked his head towards you.

“What?”

You raised your brows. “How was your date?” You repeated and he shrugged.

“Oh. it’s alright. Don’t think it’s anything worth sharing about.” He kept it short and you both fell again into quiet.

You reached over and turned down the volume. “I missed you, Spencer. It feels like it’s been so long since we’ve gotten to hang out.” You gave him a slight pout with doe eyes and he wanted to fucking groan. His brown irises darkened as you nudged him with your knee. “It’s been really lonely without my favorite nerd.” You gave him a little smirk and he scoffed.

“I’m the nerd? You’re the only person who understands my rambles so clearly I’m not the only one here.” He retorts and you chuckle.

“Okay, okay, I’m a secret nerd.” You hold your hands up and he points at your shirt.

“And you’re the one who lives in shirts like that! Who else knows different seasons of Star Trek than you?” You grin and laugh fully.

“Alight! You win!”

Spencer didn’t know what came over him but he leaned in closer and rested his hand on either side of your legs. “As usual.”

You don’t back away. Instead you dip your head down. “Don’t get cocky, Spencer. This is a one time surrender.”

The way your mouth moved. Your eyes having a glint and the way your thighs clenched together. Spencer couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re going to be surrendering a lot more. You’re just too much of a brat to give in right away.”

To his deep surprise, you surged forward and leaned your weight on him, moving him on his back on the couch. “Oh yeah? Well I can still pin you down, agent Reid.”

Spencer felt like his dick was going to explode in his god damn boxers as you hovered above him, necklaces dangling over his face. “That’s because I let you win.” He replied breathlessly and you squeezed him with your thighs.

“Then don’t.” You whisper and glance at his lips.

He caved in and caught your mouth in a soft kiss, his emotions clouding over him momentarily before he pulled back. “Was that okay?”

Instead of answering, you meet his lips again harder with a sigh and Spencer moans. His hand move to cup the back of your head and your leg as he adjusts you to straddle him fully. Your fingers trail over his torso then his hips and you feel a lacy material sticking out of his pocket. His eyes shot open as he felt you pull out the pair of stolen panties.

Your face is heated and your lips are glossy. “So you’re the one who took my favorite pair. You’re fucking perverted, Spencer. Playing the “good”boy act pretty well.”

Something broke in him and he lifted you up, manhandling you on your back. “I’m fucking perverted? You’re the one walking around wearing those. You wanted me to take them and you wanted me to notice you. Don’t act so innocent. Can’t believe you actually bought the date story.” He growled and you were shocked at his sudden show of aggression and you’d only heard him swear a handful of times.

Spencer peeled off your shorts and saw your bare cunt. “God, let me fucking taste it please.” He begged and you nodded rapidly.

Moving downward, he held your knees apart and buried his face in your center. His tongue lapping at your clit with a deep groan before slipping it into your entrance. “You’re so sweet, better than I could ever dream.” You felt him press two fingers in, curling them as he paid attention to your clit again. Spencer focused on eating your pussy like a starved man and he grinds down on the cushion.

He was about to bust in his underwear from the sounds you let out. Desperate little cries and whimpers as you claw at his hair, rolling your hips to keep him in place.

“I’m gonna cum,” You whisper and Spencer nods against your cunt.

“Let me have it. Give it to me. Please,” And your climax hits you like a wave and you pant heavily.

Spencer follows suit and spills into his pants, his motions briefly stalling as he tongue fucks you through it.

“Need you to fuck me, please, Spencer.” He didn’t have a fucking chance from your pleads as he shuffled up and smashed his cum coated lips against yours in a bruising kiss. He shoved his pants and boxers off, his cock throbbing.

Spencer presses himself deep inside you, filling you to the brim as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands grip his shirt.

He humps into you like a feral animal, “Fuck, your pussy is so tight. Can barely move.” You whine and clench around him harder and he thrusts.

“I want you to cum in me. Please, don’t stop and cum in me. I want to feel you, god, Spencer I’ve needed you. Fucking myself isn’t enough.”

“Talking like a whore already?” He grunts, “Don’t worry I’m gonna breed this perfect little pussy and then eat it out after I’m done.”

You reached your second orgasm and your eyes squeezed shut but Spencer wasn’t having it. “No open your fucking eyes, I want you to look at me when I cum in you.” Your eyes spring open as Spencer slaps your clit and you feel ropes of his cum coat your insides. “Shit-“ He grits out and buries his head in your neck and you feel his open mouth against your skin.

You tremble with aftershock for a few seconds before he pulls down, pumping himself and gestures with his fingers “Hands and knees, I’m gonna lick it off.”

You obeyed him, ass up in the air as he gave it a smack and buried his face again in your cunt. His tongue tasting both of your arousals with a throaty moan.

You’d have to talk about this but that could wait until after he was finished cleaning his mess.

Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @lilacheavenn @littlexdeaths

[rafecameronssl4t]

Night out || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: A night out with your boyfriend and Madelyn and waking up to pictures of you and Drew circulating around social media.

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1,591

A/n: Send me drew starkey requests pleaseeeeeee

MASTERLIST

Divider by @yoonitos

“Look at you,” Drew says with a playful grin, his eyes tracing every detail of your outfit with admiration. You giggle, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you catch your reflection in the mirror, pleased with your appearance. “What time are we meeting up with Mads again?” you ask, tearing your gaze away from the mirror to glance at Drew as he checks his phone.

“Uh, like right now,” he says sheepishly. Your eyes widen in surprise. “Drew!” you exclaim, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in your voice. Without wasting a moment, you grab your perfume, quickly spritzing it on as you rush to the other room to retrieve your Sambas.

“I feel so bad for making her wait,” you mutter to yourself, hastily tying up your shoes. “It’s fine, babe. The drive is only like five minutes,” Drew reassures you, the keys jingling in his hand. You shoot him a playful glare, your bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout.

“Still!” you retort, a hint of mock annoyance in your voice. With a quick glance in the mirror to ensure everything is in place, you grab your bag and hurry out of your cozy Charleston home, Drew following closely behind.

In the car, you carefully apply a layer of lip gloss, glancing at yourself in the visor mirror. Drew’s hand rests warmly on your thigh as he admires you, his eyes filled with affection. Feeling his gaze linger, you turn to him with a smile. “What?” you ask playfully, catching his eye.

Drew grins, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your inner thigh. “You’re just so pretty,” he gushes, his voice full of admiration. You giggle, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “Thanks, babe,” you reply, your heart fluttering.

~

“I’m so sorry we’re late,” you apologize as you and Madelyn go in for a hug, embracing each other warmly. “No, it’s okay. I was sorta late too,” Madelyn chuckles, pulling away from the hug with an understanding smile. Drew joins in, pulling Madelyn into a hug as well. “Hey Mads,” he greets, smiling down at her. “Hey Drew,” Madelyn replies, pulling away from the hug and smiling up at him.

You three catch up, ordering drinks and food, simply enjoying each other’s company. As the night rolled on, the three of you decided you wanted to walk down the street to your guys’ favourite bar.

It was around 11 at night, and the streets of Charleston were still bustling with a few people. “Wait, I’ll just go to the bathroom,” Madelyn says just as you step outside. “Want me to come?” you offer, concerned. “No, it’s okay, I’ll be quick!” she assures you with a smile as you nod in understanding.

Drew pulls you close to him, his arm wrapping around your waist protectively as you wait for Madelyn to return. “Do we have any choc chips in the fridge?” you randomly ask, looking up at Drew.

“I doubt it, why?” He chuckles as you couldn’t help but smile, “I wanted to make choc chip pancakes in the morning,” You say, “I’ll just buy them tomorrow,” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer. “Thank you,” You smile, going up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips.

“You lovebirds ready?” Madelyn calls out. You and Drew turn your heads toward her, both smiling. A playful grin spreads across your face as you step away from Drew, immediately missing the warmth of Drew. Linking arms with Madelyn, you share a glance. She sticks her tongue out at Drew, who feigns offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart.

Drew walks behind the two of you as you giggle about something Madelyn said. The sight is pretty amusing—how small the two of you look next to him, with Drew towering behind like a protective shadow. It’s almost as if he’s your loyal Doberman, following closely and keeping an eye on his favourite people.

The three of you arrived at the bar and immediately ordered drinks, though Drew opted for just iced water since he was the designated driver. The atmosphere was relaxed and cozy, with only a few people scattered around. After about an hour, Madelyn decided to head out, mentioning her early start the next day.

The bar was nearly empty, the clock inching past midnight, but you and Drew decided to stay. The two of you continued to chat, enjoying the quiet intimacy and the time together. His hand rested on your thigh as you talk about something, his eyes watching your side profile in awe at how lucky he was.

“We ready?” Drew asks, downing the last of his water. You hum in agreement, getting up and thanking the bartender, who returns your smile warmly. With a final glance around the nearly empty bar, you head out into the night with Drew by your side.

~

Waking up, your hand moves across to Drew’s side of the bed, only to find it empty. Lifting your head from the pillow, you catch the faint sound of music coming from the kitchen. Curiosity piqued, you slide out of bed, your feet hitting the cool floor. As you leave the bedroom, Bella, your cocker spaniel, trots up to you, her tail wagging enthusiastically.

You crouch down, scooping her up into your arms, her soft fur warm against your skin. With Bella nestled comfortably, you head towards the kitchen.

Rounding the corner, you spot Drew at the counter, mixing something in a bowl with his back turned to you. “Morning,” you say softly, catching his attention. He turns around, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Mornin’, baby,” he greets, his voice filled with affection. You walk up beside him, and he instinctively wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. Curious, you peer into the bowl.

“You’re making pancakes?” you ask with a smile, looking up at him. Drew grins down at you. “Mhmm, I got the choc chips in the fridge. Could you grab ’em for me?” he asks. You put down Bella, who trots off happily, and head to the fridge to fetch the chocolate chips, feeling a surge of affection for Drew and his sweet gesture.

“I didn’t start them too long ago, so sit down,” Drew says, giving your ass a light pat as you pass by. You lean up to kiss his cheek, “Thank you,” you say warmly before heading to the other side of the kitchen to make your coffee. The aroma of freshly ground beans fills the air as you start the coffee maker, glancing back at Drew, who’s humming along to the music, focused on making the pancakes.

You settle down on one of the kitchen stools, enjoying the comforting warmth of your coffee as you watch Drew mixing the batter . Scrolling through your phone, you’re suddenly interrupted by a FaceTime call from Madelyn.

“Mads is calling,” you inform Drew before answering the call. Maddy’s cheerful face fills the screen as you prop your phone up on the counter. “Hey!” You greet her as she does replies in the same cheerful tone.

“I’m getting my hair and makeup done right now, and I got bored, so I called,” Maddy explains, chuckling as she looks up to let the makeup artist do her eyeliner. “Hey Maddy!” Drew calls out.

“Hey Drew!” she greets back, her voice bright. “What are you doing?” Madelyn questions Drew as you flip the camera around to focus on him. He’s in the middle of flipping a pancake, his expression concentrated yet relaxed. “Making pancakes,” he replies with a smile “Stoppp, you’re making me hungry. I haven’t had breakfast yet,” she groans, letting out a loud sigh.

“Where in Charleston are you? We can drop some off if you want?” you offer, genuine concern in your voice. Maddy smiles gratefully at your kindness. “You’re too sweet, y/n. Thank you, but I feel bad making you drive out to me. I’ll just ask my manager to get an açai bowl or something,” she replies, her gratitude evident. You hum understandingly, appreciating her consideration.

~

After about ten minutes of casual conversation, Maddy brings up something that makes both you and Drew pause mid-chew. "What are you talking about?" you ask as Drew pulls out his phone.

"Are you guys living under a rock? It's all over social media right now. I thought you would've found out last night or at least this morning," Maddy says, sounding surprised.

"No, we haven't been on social media at all since we left the house yesterday afternoon," you explain while Drew opens Instagram and heads to the explore page. Almost instantly, you spot what she's talking about. "Oh, I see it," you say, leaning closer to get a better look at the post.

drewstarkeyupdatez

Liked by 1,947,208 people

Drew and his partner y/n spotted out in Charleston tonight!!

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"Aww, these picture is really cute," you smile, swiping through the images as Drew chuckles beside you. "Oh, and one of the workers at the bar made a TikTok about seeing us there. They even took a photo of you guys from the CCTV camera," Maddy adds, "I'll send you the TikTok too."

(the pic)

With Drew being a well-known celebrity, you're used to pictures of you both popping up on social media. Still, you always enjoy looking at them, finding them wholesome and cute.

[harryspet]

well kept [3] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, DUBCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think! Thank you so much for all the feedback so far :)

word count: 4.5k

In which it's your first day working from home with Rafe and you have a new lesson to learn.

well kept masterlist

The Cameron residence was fifteen minutes outside of downtown Charlotte and situated in a large neighborhood where hills and huge oak trees hid all the houses. You didn’t really see his house, only what you could tell was large pond, until the driver was at the end of the mile-long driveway.  When you did, you felt woefully underdressed. Assuming that being inside all day meant you could opt for something casual, you’d chosen a cream knit dress. 

Following Rafe’s instructions, you sent him photos of each outfit you tried on, but he hadn’t told you which ones you could return. It was another blow to your confidence. You began to doubt whether he’d even been serious, but the fear that he might mention it the next day kept you from taking any chances.

Stepping out of the black Escalade, your eyes widened as you took in the architectural masterpiece before you. The house was a striking blend of traditional and modern styles, with a light-colored exterior contrasted by dark shutters framing the windows. A stone chimney rose from the roof, and the three-car garage with wooden doors added a rustic touch.

After your car drove away, a tall and impeccably dressed staff member named Anthony guided you up the stone-paved driveway. From your cheat sheet, you recalled that he was the House Manager. Rafe required a full team: Anthony, two housekeepers, a private chef, a driver, a gardener, and now you—his personal assistant. The inside of the house was as intimidating as the exterior. The expansive foyer featured high ceilings and a grand staircase that curved up to the second floor. To the left, you caught a glimpse of the formal dining room. Each room you passed was more impressive than the last. Anthony informed you that there were six bedrooms and eight bathrooms.

“I don’t usually work on Fridays but Mr. Cameron wanted me to give you a tour of the house and show you the ropes of house management. It’ll be important for you to be able to oversee the staff when I’m absent and understand the scheduling.”

Once again, it was all too much to take in. Today was your fifth day working for Rafe, and you’d barely survived until now. 

“I want to clarify that what happened yesterday stays between us. That includes Eleanor. Okay?”

That was all he said about his outburst. There was no apology for groping you, for pinning you down on his office couch, or for taking your virginity. If you were to tell the story, you’d have to mention how your body had betrayed you—not once, but twice. But you had said no. You didn’t want to use the word that described what happened to you. You didn’t want to think about it at all.

And it didn’t happen again—not over the next three days. He continued to be harsh, forcing you to apologize for every small mistake, even those you weren’t aware of.

As you followed Anthony through the expansive kitchen, you couldn't help but marvel at its sheer size and sophistication. The kitchen was a chef's dream, with gleaming marble countertops that seemed to stretch endlessly, state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances, and custom cabinetry in a rich, dark wood finish. An oversized island dominated the center of the room.

At the far end of the kitchen, massive glass-paneled doors stood, offering a glimpse of the world beyond. The porch was furnished with elegant wicker seating with plush cushions. The space was perfect for elegant parties, with enough room to accommodate at least a dozen guests.

Beyond the porch was a stunning infinity pool stretched out towards the horizon. As you walked closer, to the right, you took notice of a garden. You spotted the gardener, Tyler, who Anthony had mentioned earlier. In simple clothes, the young man blended easily into the scenery. 

“This is where Mr. Cameron will typically entertain his guests,” Anthony said, 

The beauty of the outdoor space was undeniable, but so was the control that permeated every aspect of it. You wondered what hand Rafe played in how spotless it looked. You could almost picture him, his jaw clenched and eyes blazing with a harsh intensity, if even the smallest detail were out of place. It was easy to imagine him demanding that every leaf, every petal, every stone be exactly where it belonged. 

Did his staff ever make mistakes? Did he make them beg him forgiveness like he did with you? 

“Shall I show you the study? It’s approaching seven-thirty.”

You nodded, a small smile on your lips. He was kind but part of you didn’t want him to hear your voice shake or your face contort into an uncomfortable position as you struggled to get your words out. 

There would be enough struggling today, you knew that. 

Surprisingly, Rafe’s home office was more quaint than you expected. Dark wood panneling decorated the walls as well as floor-to-celing bookshelves. As you made your way around the room, you took note of the picture frames containing images of what you believed to be his family. Here, it seemed he had a heart. The four of them stood on a dock, sun shining down, and his arms were wrapped a young girl with dark brown hair. His smile was genuine and there was darkness lingering in the blues of his eyes. 

Other than the bookshelves, the room only contained his desk, a set of leather couches and a coffee table. The smaller room still managed to exude sophistication but it was far less imposing than you expected. 

The room almost felt intimate as sunlight trickled in through light colored curtains. You were standing behind his desk, glancing out his office window which faced towards the nearby pond. Beside it, sat a gazebo, although you couldn’t imagine Rafe enjoying it. You wondered if he lived here alone as you saw no traces of the other three people in his family photo. 

“Boo,” You yelped as you heard Rafe’s deep voice. 

You placed a hand over your beating heart as you looked toward where he stood in the doorway. Having been deep in thought, you hadn’t heard the door opened. He knew that much which explained the amused look in his eye.  

Everything flooded back at the sight of him. The air had already left your lungs. You felt his body pressing down on yours, warm breath against your ears, and that pain between your legs. 

The door clicked shut, making you flinch.

“Good morning,” he said, his gaze fixed on you.

It hit you then, you hadn’t greeted him like you were supposed to.

You were taken aback by his appearance. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a plain navy t-shirt, a stark contrast to your heels and carefully applied makeup. You weren’t sure why you were expected to dress up, especially when he looked so casual.

“G-Good morning, Sir,” You crossed the room, his eyes locked on yours. You remembered where he liked you, near the door, ready to greet him and present yourself to him. You hated how your voice always betrayed you, how weak it made you sound. Your only saving grace was that you’d already memorized his schedule for the day, having spent the entire commute looking at your laptop. You recited it to him, including the midday Zoom call he had with Kelce and Topper.

Topper, you had learned, was Eleanor’s husband. Rafe hadn’t ever touched her but the way Eleanor always answered your questions with vague responses made you suspect that her relationship with Topper mirrored your own with Rafe. She hadn’t warned you but now you were suspecting that was because Rafe seemed to always get what he wanted, no matter who got hurt in the process.

You froze the moment his hand reached out to touch you. His fingers curled around your side, hovering just above your stomach but dangerously close to your breasts. His grip was surprisingly gentle as his thumb grazed over the fabric of your dress. You stiffened as his other hand mirrored the first, sliding across to the opposite side of your body. “Eleanor picked this,” he murmured, his brows knitting together as his gaze slowly traveled down your figure. A jolt shot through you as his thumb brushed over your nipple, sending a wave of panic coursing through you.

“Y-You don’t like it?” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He clicked his tongue, “Turn around for me.”

You did as he said, “Doesn’t do enough for your figure,” Your heart panged in your chest, suddenly feeling self-conscious of your own shape, “Are you wearing the panties I sent you?”

All you could do was nod. Rafe never commanded you to wear the panties everyday to work but you didn’t risk it. Luckily, they were all comfortable despite the lace and cheekiness. 

“Pull up your dress,” He said next. 

You’d spent the last three days in a fog, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to understand why your body betrayed you. When you were younger, you always asked the universe why you couldn’t speak like the way all your friends at school did. Now you asked the universe why Rafe’s voice made you want to clench your thighs together. Why you had felt empty ever since he’d finished inside of you. Why you wanted to try again, to experience that intimacy again without so much fear. Your life was so simple before but now it felt like it was too late to turn back. 

Your thoughts were too jumbled. Rafe cleared his throat and you realized you were just staring back, “I’m not gonna fuck you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Please-”

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t make me ask again.”

You squared your shoulders. “I’m nnn-nn-not comfortable—”

“Just do it.”

You reached down to the edges of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric to your waist. It was nothing he hadn’t already seen and yet you were shaking, “Turn around. Face the other way.” Like a robot, you obeyed. You’d chosen a light pink color today. 

“Good,” You felt him against you. He pulled your hair back over your shoulder and leaned down against your ear, “Maybe I should make you walk around naked while you’re here, hmm?”

You bit down on your lip, wanting to contain the protest that was about to leave your mouth. You wanted to lean into his touch, to embrace the comfort that would accompany the torture. He brushed past you just as you tilted your head back, “Go make me a coffee,” He commanded. 

He made his way behind his desk and you reached down to move your dress, “Did I say to pull your dress down?”

“N-No, Sir,” You moved your hands quickly to your sides.

“I could make you walk around like that, couldn’t I?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

He tilted his head and you realized you needed to answer. You gave him a painful look. You could say no but what would it cost you, “I . . . I don’t know,” He wasn’t satisfied by your answer, clearly. It was torture to force the words out, “Y-Yes.”

“Right answer,” He said, “Pull down your dress, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but see the irony in the fact that despite that you upgraded to a salaried job, you were still making coffee for the rich and spoiled. The opulent kitchen had an even fancier coffee machine than his office. Your movements as you prepared his steaming mug of coffee were precise despite the turmoil in your mind. 

Searching for solutions, your mind landed on the idea of trying to assert your competence. Sure, you could make a great cup of coffee but the whole point of getting a real job was so that you could have real skills to market yourself. You could be perfect at this job, anticipate his every need, and you could more than an object to look at. 

You re-entered his office quietly after realizing he’d begun his first meeting of the day. Carefully, you set his coffee down on the edge of his desk. He was always so intense, so completely absorbed in his work, and that unwavering focus made you even more anxious. Maybe that’s how you should be, more composed, projecting an air of confidence.

Unsure of where you should settle, you made yourself comfortable on one of the leather couches. You checked your email on your laptop, finding several reminders from Eleanor. You found yourself frustrated by how she picked and chose what information to share with you but you balanced those feelings with the fact that she was often your saving grace. 

She gave you a list of tasks including arranging for a delivery of documents that needed to be signed by Rafe, confirming his dinner reservations for the night, and proofreading the notes you took from yesterday’s meetings. You told yourself by the end of the next week, you’d be able to handle things by yourself, and you wouldn’t have to lean on her so much. You’d have a day, eventually, where Rafe didn’t point out anything you did wrong. 

“I was thinking-” Rafe’s voice cut through the silence. You were so focused that you hand’t realized his meeting had ended. He folded his hands over each other, his eyes on you, “From now on, I want you to wear what I pick for you each day.”

“How …y-you’re not happy with what I’ve been choosing?”

“It’s not about not being happy. Now I have more of an idea of what I like on you,” His voice was smooth and authoritative, “You want to reflect my taste, my standards, yeah?”

You mustered the courage to ask your next question, “Can I-I dress a l-little less … formally when I work at home with you?”

“Less formally?” He tasted the words on his tongue, “You mean, like more casual?”

“Yes, Sss-sir. Like more comfortable.”

“We could experiment with that,” His tone was deceptively light, “On my terms though. Yeah?”

You nodded and were grateful that he hadn’t reacted lightly. He seemed to enjoy that you were asking him for permission.

“You’ll have to wear something different tonight though, for dinner. Eleanor is coming by towards the end of the day to bring you your outfit and take you to get your nails done.” 

“Oh,” Your eyes opened wide, “I-I thh-thhought it was more of a personal-”

“I won’t keep you out forever,” He said, “You got plans or something?”

You shook your head quickly, “No, Sir.”

Rafe worked through lunchtime, so you brought him the meal prepared by his chef, Stevie—an elegant older woman with blonde hair. She had made a pesto pasta salad that looked like it belonged in a gourmet magazine, despite your protests and insistence on eating your own packed lunch. Only after delivering the meal did Rafe grant you permission to take your break elsewhere.

You settled on the outdoor patio by the pool, enjoying the peacefulness of the space despite the distant, steady hum of a lawnmower. For a moment, you didn’t feel out of place. Your dress, though apparently unflattering to your figure, was worth a small fortune, and the gourmet lunch you were now enjoying was a far cry from the PB&J you’d packed.

Thirty minutes later, after finishing your lunch and enjoying a lengthy chat with Stevie, you reluctantly headed back upstairs. Hearing Rafe still on the phone, you decided to explore a bit more. His office was situated in the private wing of his house, and as you meandered through opulent corridors, you couldn’t resist sneaking a glance into the master bedroom. It was cozier than you had anticipated, with tall gray walls that gave it a masculine feel and a plush bed draped in navy linen blanket that created a snug, cocoon-like atmosphere.

Rafe ended his call a minute later and the afternoon wore on. You settled into a rhythm, completing the various tasks that you’d added to your own to do lists and ones he’d assigned to you. You spent some time organizing files in his office. His gaze burned into you, even more when you were turned around, and surprisingly, you were starting to get used to that unnerving feeling. 

He waited for you to make a mistake but you used a hundred-percent of your effort to make sure that didn’t happen. 

The clock inched towards the evening, and the day grew even more quieter, more intimate. “I was looking over your notes from yesterday’s meeting with the board members. I highlighted some sections for you to read back to me,” He waved you over, his voice gruff after a long day of talking. You joined him behind his desk and you moved to lean over and get closer look, but he placed a hand on your hip. The gesture was firm, possessive, leaving no room for hesitation. With effortless strength, like a wolf guiding its prey, he maneuvered you onto his lap, settling you on his thigh. You felt the power in his grip, the unspoken control, and all you could do was comply.

“Rafe–” You started, an desperate attempt at a protest. 

“Start with the first section,” He commanded, his grip tightening. 

“I’ve been working on proofreading them–”

“Sweetheart,” He warned, not needing to add that you were making him angry. You could feel it, the heat coming off of him. 

You took a deep breath and slowly tried to read each sentence. Even if you didn’t have a sentence with a small typo, you still stammered over several of your words. He slid the chair closer to the desk and you yelped. 

“See right here,” He pointed to the screen but that only pressed him into you. You breathed slowly, trying not to hyperventilate, “This whole section needs more detail. I don’t want to have to ask more information.”

You were taken aback when Rafe actually began to instruct you on what you were meant to do. He spent at least ten minutes walking you through each sentence, explaining how to word your report, and deleted all the unnecessary details you added. He was surprisingly patient. 

“Now, your turn,” he said finally, leaning back in the chair. For a moment, you thought he was letting you up, but the pressure of his hand on your waist told you otherwise. “Fix it.”

You swallowed, hesitating as your fingers hovered over the keys. Ever keystroke was amplified in the quiet room. Doing your best to actually use your brain, you carefully made the changes he suggested. He watched you closely, his hands first placed on your hips but soon one wandered between your thighs. 

“Good,” He said. You could do it again, you thought, and not be so scared. His touch was teasing, a reminder of what he could do to you, all the pressure that built inside of you a spilled over. You could impress him, you could be beautiful, and not turn into a crying mess when he was inside of you. You could be more than a fragile thing to be broken.

Each word was a small victory. It was a battle you thought you could win until his fingers slipped inside your panties and his other hand grabbed a handful of one of your breasts. It was unbearable, and as he made small circles, you found your fingers slipping clumsily over the keys. 

You pressed your palms into his desk, your body tilting forward. A frustrated sigh left your lips, you couldn’t contain it, and Rafe’s chuckle rumbled from behind you, “Do you ever touch yourself like this? Be honest with me this time.”

“Y-Yes,” You whispered. 

“How do you do it?” He pulled you away from the desk, pulling your torso against his, “You use a toy?”

“J-Just my fff-fingers,” You admitted. 

“Like this? How do you like it?” Carefully, he switched between different approaches. He rubbed circles over your clit, smaller ones and then slower, bigger ones. Then he stroked you up and down, fingers slipping easily into your warm hole as he wandered lower, “You put those little fingers inside of you?”

“Rafe, please.”

“Tell me,” He kissed the side of your neck, “Or I’ll stop.”

"I-I don't usually put them inside… ," you confessed, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I always use my pillow…”

He hummed against your ear. "See how much better this is when you cooperate? You can be such a good little assistant when you try."

You nodded, unable to speak, and let the feeling consume you. He brought you right to the edge, you were seconds away coming undone, but his movements slowed. Before you could register the feeling as disappointment, Rafe was hoisting you off of his lap. 

Moving with sudden determination, your feet were suddenly off the ground and Rafe was carrying you out of the room in his strong arms, “Rafe!” You clutched his shoulders as he carried you down the hall.

You turned your head as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, the heavy thud of the door slamming shut reverberating through the room. With a swift motion, he laid you gently on the bed. The softness beneath you was just as you had imagined, but the thought barely registered. You shot him an incredulous look, your face flushed with a mix of pleasure and frustration.

He leaned over you, grabbing a pillow from behind you and placing it in front of you, “Show me.”

You shook your head instantly and moved to crawl away. Somehow, you could let all of his other sleazy behavior slide by but this was an insane boundary for him to try to cross. He’d already been inside you and yet this was a thousand times more intimate. 

He grabbed ahold of your thigh, “You’re so close, sweetheart. I know you want it,” He challenged you, “Probably feels like you need it.”

“Please,” You tried, your voice threatening to crack. His hands found your hips again, slowly positionin you over the pillow. The soft fabric brushed against your most sensitive spot, the familiar sensation making you bite down on your bottom lip, “Rafe.”

“You saying my name like that just makes me want it more,” Balancing on his knees, he grabbed ahold of your face and leaned in to kiss you. You felt the intensity of his desire, how much he wanted this, and it left you dizzy. 

When he pulled back, he looked over you. Your hips started moving in a familiar motion despite your embarrassment. You trembled from the vulnerability, the pounding in your chest, but you chased that high he gave you. It ignited your fire again, and since you didn’t have the full force of his touch anymore, you focused your eyes on him, “Good girl,” He said again and you whimpered, “Look at me just like that.”

You rolled your hips harder, faster, imagining his kiss, his touch, as the tension coiled tighter inside you. His gaze never left yours, his words a constant stream of encouragement and control.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” 

His words all jumbled together. 

“Just let it happen.”

“I want to see your face when you cum, sweetheart.”

“You look so desperate.”

“So needy.”

“You’re gonna make yourself cum, huh?”

“Just because I told you too.”

“Such a good girl.”

“Look at you.” 

The words pushed you over the edge, finally, and you were able to let go. He watched as you rode out that wave of pleasure and his hands found your body again, his grip grounding you. “Fuck,” You heard him say but you couldn’t respond. 

You were too overwhelmed to respond, your mind unable to fully process what had just happened. All you knew was that you felt good, embarrassed, and strangely satisfied that you'd pleased him, all at once. 

When you manage to look at him again, the doorbell rang. 

Eleanor navigated through the upscale nail salon, a palace of white and silvers, with ease, like she was a regular, and this was just an extension of her universe. You imagined this place as an escape for her, from both Rafe and Topper. She secured side-by-side seats near the back of the salon and you followed her lead as she set down her purse and removed her sandals. Her movements were fluid and assured. 

“Have you thought about what color you want?”

“Oh, um, n-no,” You tried to make yourself comfortable in the pedicure chair, “What d-do you think Rafe would like?”

“Maybe something pastel. You can’t go wrong with a soft pink.”

“Is that what you’re getting?” You asked, unassured, as you glanced around the luxurious setting. It wasns’t like other nail salons you’d been to where the technicians and customers talked at whatever volume they liked. It was quiet and each technician wore matching black uniforms. 

“I’ll tell them you want ballet slipper on your nails and white on your toes.”

You nodded, grateful for her guidance, “Thank you.”

As your pedicures began, the warm lavender-scented water soaking your feet, two technicians took their places by your sides, working silently as they filed your nails. 

“How are you holding up?” Eleanor asked.

“Fff-fine,” You said, “I’m trying to . . . t-to understand him, I guess.”

“You’ll go crazy doing that,” She laughed lightly, flashing a look that said “poor you”. 

“How d-did you meet Topper?” Her face tightened at your question, “I mean, y-you didn’t say.”

“I’m from the same town as them, Rafe and Topper. Not really the same town, my parents didn’t have money growing up. But I worked at the country club they all went to. That’s how I met Topper.”

“And you started dating?”

“Something like that,” She made a small shrug, “I owe everything I have to them.”

You nodded, sensing the weight of her words despite the lack of detail. Another piece to the puzzle you were trying to put together. Maybe the two of them had an attraction to girls struggling to get by.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” She asked and it made you pause.

Your instinct was to mirror her shrug, but you hesitated, wondering if you could trust her with your thoughts. If anyone could understand what you were going through, it had to be Eleanor.  “I-I just ffff-ffeel like I’m doing everything wrong.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only heard good things.”

“A-About me?” She nodded and your lips parted in shock. 

“Yes. I know you feel uncertain right now, but I think you'll be glad if you can stick it out. Topper… he’s a bastard, but he takes care of me. Rafe likes you too. Maybe he doesn’t know how to show it, but…” She paused, her eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “He’s filthy rich. That would be enough for me.”

In that moment, her brutal honesty felt almost like reassurance. You weren’t sure if Eleanor truly grasped the extent of Rafe’s inability to show affection, that his pleasure came from humiliating you, from making you cry. Just as you couldn’t fully know what she endured with Topper. Her words weren't necessarily comforting but at least they felt real.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :)

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 01

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 7.6k

warnings: blood, needles, talking about how you euthanize cows and such? suicidal thoughts (not graphic or elaborated? very straightforward?)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/2

<previous | next>

© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

It’s a freezing cold December night when you step into the dark alleyway, your thighs having gone numb under your jeans a while ago. The sun set hours ago, and the only light present is that of a few scattered streetlights. 

Your pulse quickens as you take another cautious step. Something moves further in, where the light barely reaches, and since there’s no snow yet, you hear the slight crunch of frozen fall leaves under… footsteps. From the dark, a tall figure approaches slowly in a way that would have anyone’s blood chilling.

“I have a proposition,” you state, trying to stand somewhat tall.

"A proposition?” a low voice inquires, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the face that emerges from the shadows. “I’ll fuck you, but I’m not turning you for sex.”

“That’s not what—I don’t want sex or to be turned.”

He directs his full attention to you, and in turn, you get a better glimpse of his features. He looks like a man; incredibly handsome with jet black hair, eyebrows, and eyes, but his skin is paler than anything you’ve seen, and there’s the tiniest smudge of something red tinting the corner of his mouth. Though his eyebrow is raised, he doesn’t look very entertained.

“You can have my blood. All of it, if you just take it quickly.”

He lifts his hand to slowly wipe the red from his face. The outfit he wears—a black leather jacket and black pants—looks human but is definitely too cold to wear this time of year.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t simply take it if I wanted to? Why would I need your permission?”

“I’m just saying. Take it if you want it?”

He looks at you, seemingly at least a little intrigued by the odd human in front of him. You definitely understand that most people run the other way at the sight of this big, intimidating being. 

“You realize ‘all of it’ means you’ll be dead, right?”

You nod. “Do we have a deal?”

“Regardless of if I wanted to or not, I literally just… ate, so I physically can’t. Not for another week or so.”

You feel your shoulders drop slightly, and you blink, trying to improvise a plan.

“Okay, well… Do you want to meet here in a week, then?”

At that, he tilts his head. “You want to die here, in a dirty alleyway?”

“I don’t care. So yes or no?”

“If you want me to do this, give me something in return first, okay?”

You look at him in confusion. “You’re getting my blood?”

“Who's to say your blood is even good?”

Trying not to let his words discourage you, you look around, thinking. Maybe you should’ve played harder to get? At least in the sense of giving him a hunt? You don’t want to waste any time, but he might not be your best option. 

“Fine, do you know if there are other vampires around here? How do I find them?”

It took you three weeks to even find this one, and maybe it was more luck than anything, so setting off on another search doesn’t sound too exciting. These creatures really do live in the shadows.

“No, listen. Whether your blood is delicious or not, it would certainly be helpful to have it. But…”

“But?”

“Let me stock up on it first. Meet me at my place and let me take some every week for two months and then I’ll take the rest.”

You look around again, unsure if you should just try to find someone else. Two months is not ideal; it’s too long, and you’re sure you could manage to find someone else in the meantime. 

The vampire senses your hesitation and takes a step closer.

“You want it to be quick, which means you’re scared of pain. People around here, my kind, tend to drag it out. Pain and fear equal adrenalin, which gives the blood a certain… flavor that some enjoy. Agree to my compromise, and I’ll make it quick and practically painless.”

He gives you the smallest of smiles, barely a hint of one, but it feels wicked and makes a cold shiver run down your spine. You know he’s not trustworthy, but he’s getting a lot out of the deal, and you have nothing to lose, really.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

In the middle of the day a week later, you find yourself in front of a big two-story house. It’s nice, looks pretty expensive but… like a regular house? It’s painted white and definitely not blood-red or even black. Aligning more with your expectations is how the house is partially obscured from the road by huge, towering spruces and how it seems to lie just a little bit further from the neighboring houses. There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground now, but you’re not sure whether it’ll stick.

After confirming that no, there is no door bell, you lift your fist to knock on the door. Vampires have crazy good hearing anyway, right? You’d assume so, given the fact that they’re always portrayed as super fast, super strong, super… attractive, and with super hearing, super vision, just… super all around. The mythical creatures don’t officially exist to the world, but in your little town, everyone knows they do. And they do. You found one. So if they drink blood and are super attractive—at least this one—it’s not too weird to assume there’s more truth to their pop-culture portrayal. 

You can see how the town’s vampire believers and enthusiasts shake their heads in disappointment at your relative indifference, but truth be told, you’d probably be more curious about the vampire whose home you’re about to step into if the situation was different. Or maybe you’d have some self-preservation and run the other way?

The door opens almost soundlessly, and when you look up, you meet those black, bottomless eyes. It really is his color, you think, your gaze drawn to the short-sleeve, black button-down he’s wearing, the top three buttons or so left undone. With it, he’s wearing black pants on the looser side. He looks incredibly handsome, and very effortlessly so. His hair is shiny and looks soft, and like it naturally falls into that slight side-part.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there and ogle me?” He isn’t smiling teasingly; he just looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry.” 

He turns to retreat back into the house, and you’re left to enter through the open door. There are no lights on inside, and when you close the door behind you, cutting off a majority of the daylight, you start to feel like you’re truly inside a vampire’s home. Still, it’s light enough for you to follow said vampire’s back after hastily removing your coat and folding it to leave over the boots you step out of. Since you assumed he needs access to the veins in your arms, you picked out a gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie that’s a little too big on you, paired with jeans. Nothing fancy—you’re not there to impress him.

With quickened steps, you catch up to him as he wordlessly leads the way into his kitchen, a place you doubt he uses much. Vampires don’t actually eat, do they? Either way, the room is clean and feels almost... sterile, despite the walnut cupboards and dark gray countertops.

On the short end of a wide, matching walnut dining table, a bunch of supplies are laid out. He gestures to one of the two chairs positioned around the corner of the table, but as you sit down, he turns to leave.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down and slipping one arm out. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that complicated in… theory, but I don’t think I can do it on myself.”

“I’m just gonna wash my hands,” he explains, and there seems to be a very slight trace of emotion in his voice and on his face that you interpret as amusement. He thinks you're dumb.

Oh. Well… does it really matter if his hands are squeaky clean or not?

Water hits the sink with a familiar sound as you focus on the table, inspecting the supplies. There’s a needle with a tube attached to it, a tourniquet, some syringes, antiseptic wipes, and a few empty blood bags. A voice in your head wonders if maybe he changed his mind and will simply take everything at this moment because those bags look pretty big, and you’re not sure you can fill them and still walk out of this place. 

The water stops, and you sit pretty and wait until he positions the other chair in front of you, a little to the side. You’ve never been a fan of needles or having your blood drawn, so you focus your eyes the other way, to a specific part of his kitchen window and the overcast outside. You hear the sound of paper and plastic ripping, and you feel his cold fingers place and tighten the tourniquet around your upper arm and feel for your veins before he wipes the area clean.

“Scared of needles?” he teases arrogantly, and you see how he reaches for the sharp object on the table.

“Bodily reaction. I can’t help it,” you explain before holding your breath and waiting for the poke.

It comes soon after; an uncomfortable but not too painful prick. With one hand, he moves some things around on the table, and you try to keep as still as possible, loathing the feeling of a needle jolting around in your vein.

“You’re not curious as to why I know how to do this stuff? Or worried that I don’t?” he wonders, releasing the tourniquet and seemingly fastening the needle to your skin with some tape.

“No. I guess it doesn’t surprise me; blood and vampires seem to go hand in hand.”

He surprises you by letting out a quiet chuckle before placing a red stress ball in your hand. “Squeeze this. I’ll be back to change the bag in a few minutes.”

Nodding, you watch him rise from his chair and leave the room.

Left to your own devices and with the filling blood bag taped to the chair’s armrest by its thin tube, you close your eyes. 

The house is entirely silent, and you have no idea where the vampire went. After he moved the stuff around on the table, you were able to count exactly three blood bags with a printed 450 ml on them. That adds up to somewhere between one and one and half liters and around 30% of your blood volume if you’ve calculated correctly. According to your brief research, a human doesn’t typically survive losing more than 40% of their blood unless given emergency medical attention. You probably won’t feel too great after today, but you most likely won’t die. You think.

Slowly, the minutes start to tick by, but you feel okay so far. You’ve got a good rhythm going for the stress ball, squeezing, holding, releasing. Squeezing, holding, releasing. The silence has your mind wandering.

“You can stop for a bit.”

The vampire’s sudden voice has your eyes flying open. He hadn’t made a single sound, returning to the kitchen. Catching your breath, you nod, keeping the ball still in your hand. You don’t look at the needle in your arm, but you see the bag full of dark red that the vampire sits down and trades for an empty one, attaching the tubes before he fastens them in the same way to the armrest. 

When he’s done, he lifts his hand, and you spot one of his fingertips covered in red. For a split second, he observes it, and then he puts the finger to his tongue. At first, it’s weird to see, and you almost want to tell him that it’s not hygienic to taste other people’s blood. That is before you remember that other people’s blood is what sustains him.

He looks to be assessing something, and suddenly, you’re worried he might not like it.

“B positive," he focuses on you, but you give him a slight, confused shrug because you have no idea what blood type you are or what it means in this context. 

“Is that… okay?”

“It’s… meh. Not the most common but also not the rarest. Most of my kind prefer A or even AB, though.”

“Oh."

Of course, your blood is substandard. You nod toward the filled bag on the table. “Will you have any use for this then?”

Truly, it would be just your luck to not even have the scary creatures, who roam the night in search of victims to drain, want your blood.

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I can always use it as a backup if I don’t get the chance to feed in time. Squeeze.”

Per his order, you resume squeezing. The rest of the process goes relatively smoothly, although you’ve started feeling a lot… weaker by the time the second bag is full and the vampire is about to switch it for the third. 

There’s a lot about blood and the human body that you don’t know, and you’re silently wondering what the recovery rate is and if you can really give him this much every week. Does he plan on taking less next time or has he not taken it into consideration?

“Why do you want to die?”

You blink at his bluntness, looking at his uncaring face. He obviously doesn’t care to hear the longer story, and you don’t care to tell it, so you settle for a shorter, more condensed version.

“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t belong here.”

“Didn’t taste like it.”

“Maybe not physically.”

He doesn’t dig further, but when your blood starts trickling into the third bag, the vampire stays seated. You still close your eyes, afraid that you’ll stare at his face otherwise, and he didn’t particularly seem to like that. 

You’re not sure if it’s just the blood loss or a combination of having slept poorly for the last few weeks and being in a calm, silent environment, but you’re feeling tired. Really tired. And cold. 

“Squeeze harder,” his voice instructs, void of emotion. You do your best to follow his instructions, squeezing the ball tighter even though it’s getting difficult.

“We’re done.”

You open your eyes, finding the vampire much closer than before and his fingers swiftly removing the needle from your arm.

“Okay, so… uh…” you start, finding it hard to choose words or even think of what you want to convey in the first place. “Do I come back… same time… next week?” 

“No. Make it two weeks.”

You look at him, confusion written across your features, but it’s hard to focus your eyes on his face. It’s blurry, and there are dark spots infiltrating your vision.

“I took as much as I could, and while you won’t have time to replenish everything in two weeks either, I’ll at least get more out of you than in just one week.”

He smiles, and if you had the energy and maybe (mostly) the common sense, you’d be scared by the way he truly looks so wicked. 

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The vampire takes the stress ball from you and rises from the chair with the used supplies in his hands. You grip the armrests best you can, but your right hand slips, and you stumble a little, trying to stand. It’s so incredibly cold, and you feel dizzy, nauseous, and weak, putting your hoodie back on properly.

Very quietly, you hear him move around the kitchen, and while he hasn’t explicitly told you to leave, you’re very much assuming he wants nothing else. So on unsteady legs, you make your way back to the front door, where you grab your coat to haphazardly put it on, and you step into your boots, unable to bend down to tie them properly.

You’re able to make it to your old but trustworthy car that you parked on the street, but when you sit down in the driver’s seat and close the door behind you, you realize that you definitely can’t drive as it’s proving more and more difficult to even keep your eyes open. You can’t walk home, you have no one to come pick you up, and even if there probably is a bus stop somewhere around here, you don’t think you’d make it there. 

So with your last burst of energy, you pull the lever under the seat to push it back a little, leaving your boots on the floor as you bring your feet and knees up. Your coat finds a new purpose as a makeshift blanket, and you cover as much of your body as you can with it. Fully knowing that as you close your eyes, you might never open them again, you don’t care that much. Dying is what you want, anyway.

Surprisingly, you do open your eyes again. It’s dark when you do, and it’s so, so cold. Your heart is beating hard as it tries to circulate blood that just isn’t there anymore, and it’s with a low groan that you move, trying to reach for the phone in the pocket of your coat.

It’s seven p.m.. You met with the vampire at two p.m., and the visit took less than an hour, which means that you got into your car at maybe a bit before three, and so you’ve been passed out for four hours. It takes you a while to come to properly, and even when you do, you feel weak, groggy, and stiff. Ideally, you shouldn’t drive, but you have no other means of getting home, so you decide on a route consisting of smaller roads with lower speed limits and less traffic.

It’s no wonder you feel like you’re on death’s doorstep because when you do some further Googling on blood donation and blood volumes at home, you calculate exactly how much someone of your size would have. And you find that the vampire took 38% of that.

Three weeks later, you’re knocking on his door again. He opens it, an eyebrow raised and looking even more unimpressed than last time. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t show last week, but I was sick,” you inform, hoping he’ll accept your apology. “Didn’t think you would’ve wanted to see… that.”

“You’re right.”

That’s all he says before he turns, leaving the door open for you just like last time. Well, you take that as a sign that you’re forgiven, and so you follow him inside. 

Trying to keep up with him, you’re feeling even smaller and weaker around the tall vampire than before, and truth be told, you are. Because according to those Google searches, while it takes the body only approximately 24-48 hours to replace the blood plasma, it takes four to six weeks to replenish the red blood cells and recover fully. And that’s from having one bag of 450ml donated; you left three and it’s only been three weeks since. Essentially, the vampire is taking your blood a lot faster than you can produce it.

Like last time, you sit down on the same chair in his kitchen, but since he wasn’t expecting you, he has to retrieve the supplies from elsewhere. You remain quiet while he organizes everything, stealing a few glances at him in the meantime. This time, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts, and you’re amazed at just how… ordinary he looks. In the best way possible, of course. 

Without being too tight, the shirt does a very good job at showing off his physique: it hangs wonderfully off his shoulders and dips slightly between his pecs. It exposes the prominent veins stretching across both his arms and hands, and you wonder if vampires also ‘live’ in the way that he has a heart that pumps blood around his body. Or if he’s really ‘dead’ or ‘undead’ like some media describe them?

“What?” he questions, having caught you staring.

“You look very human,” you say quietly. “Like a college guy.”

An athletic college guy. The one who’s just a little too handsome to be exact.

The trace of amusement that flashes across his face is so faint that you’re not sure you didn’t simply imagine it. He doesn’t respond to your observation, only sitting down and reaching for your arm. His large hands feel a little warmer against your skin than you remember them doing last time, and you turn your head when he prepares the needle. There’s a pinch and then the immediate relief when he loosens the tourniquet.

“Here,” the red stress ball is placed into your hand again. Looking down briefly, you watch your own hand squeeze it, but the red fluid flowing through the transparent tube is too off-putting, and so you close your eyes again.

A minute or so passes while you keep squeezing the ball to some sort of rhythm tied to your breaths. It won’t be long. Soon, everything will be over. 

Somewhere, you lose track of time, and to regain some sense of reality, you flutter your eyelids open. Only to see the vampire stare coldly at you. You freeze.

“I thought you left,” you admit, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he explains, face still stoic.

You look at him dumbly. “No offense, but why? The point is to kill me, anyway?”

“No, it’s to take as much as possible,” he corrects you. “To a reasonable extent. And then kill you. Here, let me change the bag.”

You close your eyes once more as he switches the full bag to a new, empty one. The dizziness comes a lot quicker than it did three weeks ago, but then again, you’ve been feeling more or less weak and faint ever since that first donation.

“Okay, we’re done.”

You look at him, surprised. “Already? But you didn’t even fill the second bag fully?”

“I took too much last time, and like I said, I want to get as much out of you as possible.”

For the first time, you think you see a hint of a discreet fang when he gives you a blood-chilling smile.

The process of removing everything is quick, and before you know it, you’re putting your feet into your boots again. You feel faint, like your knees might buckle under you any second, but you don’t feel weak to the point of passing out for hours in your car; you do that when you’re home in bed instead.

Suffering from what you gather is immense anemia, you don’t have the energy to really do anything between your visits to the vampire besides lie on the couch and watch TV. You quit your retail job the Monday after finding him in that alleyway, confident (and correctly so) that you wouldn’t be able to handle really any job at all. 

Even rotting away on the couch with your eyes glued to the screen, you can barely understand what the shows are about. Your brain struggles to place the people and remember the plot lines, and you find yourself almost daydreaming instead. Though it’s mostly just flashing images of the vampire whose name you still don’t know.

If your heart wasn’t already so strained, it would beat harder for him in some kind of fear-filled attraction. He’s absolutely gorgeous—and there’s definitely something almost drawing you to him—but he’s also so, so intimidating. If the end goal wasn’t to die, you’d for sure be running for the hills and looking over your shoulder late at night.

Next time, there’s a slight smile pulling on the vampire’s lips when he opens the door.

“Still alive?”

You chuckle quietly, looking down at your boots. “Unfortunately.”

Taking off your coat reveals another simple outfit with no other purpose than granting the vampire access to your arms while keeping your freezing body warm. This time, it’s a thick, brown cardigan over a t-shirt, paired with somewhat baggy jeans.

The contrast between your clothes is almost funny. Even indoors, you’d be freezing in the half-open thin, white dress shirt he wears messily tucked into black, also thin-looking slacks. The gap in his shirt makes you want to reach out and touch his pale chest, but of course, you keep your hands to yourself.

Once again, you follow him inside, and while you don’t need him to, he guides you to the same spot in his kitchen where the stuff is all laid out. 

Sitting down, you slip your arm out of the cardigan and place it on the armrest. The vampire washes his hands and then comes to sit down in front of you, reaching for the tourniquet to position it around your bicep. With the elastic band tightened, he rips open an antiseptic wipe to clean the inside of your elbow, and then, he prepares the needle like always. 

You look away, holding your breath until the pinch comes and for a few seconds after. 

“The whole thing about vampires losing control around blood… I take it that’s just storytelling?”

“Depends,” he answers, and despite not looking at him, you just know he’s got one eyebrow raised and a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “If we’re hungry and someone happens to bleed around us, yeah, it can be more… tempting. Also depends on what sort of blood we prefer.”

“And you don’t like mine,” you state, your foggy brain concluding it the reason he seems to not care about the vulnerable blood right in front of him.

He laughs this time, a really nice sound that has your strained heart almost skipping an important beat. “I changed my weekly feeding to Thursdays, so I’m still quite full. And your blood isn’t vile, it’s just not what I personally go crazy for.”

“Oh,” you let out, looking at him before something dawns on you. “Wait. You eat once a week only? How much do you eat then? Or… drink?”

He nods toward the bag he just secured to your arm. “Someone of my size typically only needs about two of these a week to survive and not maniacally hunt and kill, but to really thrive? Between two and three liters, so four to six bags. I usually go hunting Friday or Saturday night when most bars and pubs are full. It’s surprisingly easy to find a few drunks stumbling around who won’t even realize what happened the day after.”

“So you don’t… kill?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s been… an increase in vampires around here, and if people drop dead? No, it’s less suspicious and only a little more work to find a few victims instead of draining one dry.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm. I typically don’t have to beg women to come with me, either.”

Something ice cold travels through your body at that last sentence. You wonder whose blood was on his lips that night when you found him.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this, though? You seem like you’d tell me to mind my own business.”

Even more, you can’t believe you asked.

He smiles. “I don’t know. Like I said, people will occasionally find out what I am, find me fascinating, and ask a thousand questions. I’ve always thought it to be incredibly annoying, and I’m not really supposed to tell them anything even if I wanted to—which I don’t—but it’s been… odd, not being questioned by you. At all. Almost boring, like I’m not interesting to you.”

His answer surprises you, and for a moment, you imagine teenage you, not bubbly per se but at least a bit more naive than the current version. Would she be the type to annoy him? You don’t think so. 

“Objectively, you are interesting, but I can’t believe how brave people are? If things were different, I wouldn’t have gone out looking for a vampire in the first place. And if I somehow stumbled upon you, I would’ve run the other way because you’d terrify me.”

Slowly, he smirks at your honesty. 

“I scare you?” 

You’d be lying if you claimed the cold, calculating aura around him didn’t.

You’re not sure if he has any super powers like in the movies, but honestly, he wouldn’t need to be able to lift a bus to kill you. The scariest thing about him isn’t how he could end your life in a hundred different ways either way, it’s how he could drag it out and extend your suffering before doing so. Of course, your body and instincts find him scary, but in a way, your mind… doesn’t? Then again, you’re here because your mind wants him to kill you.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” is all he says, his eyes falling to the blood bag. “I have to change it. Hold on.”

“Okay,” you mumble, finding it hard to concentrate. Your heart beats so hard it hurts, but at the same time, your breathing is slowing down. Closing your eyes, you feel him move stuff around.

“How are you feeling?” he suddenly asks, but it doesn’t sound like he cares too much.

“Honestly? Terrible,” you admit, keeping your eyes closed. 

You keep still when you feel his hands on your arm, but then you hear a little… rip.

“Fuck.”

Curiously, you open your tired eyes, seeing the vampire hold the empty bag up to inspect it. 

“This was the last one I had. This brand is fucking terrible quality; how do you make blood bags so weak they rip?”

“You don’t have anything else to collect it in?”

He sighs defeatedly, “No, it needs to be in these kinds of bags so I can store and freeze it properly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll have to stock up on them and maybe take more next time.”

You nod slowly and understandingly. That will probably be the last time, then.

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on a bench downtown, your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. It’s Saturday, and on the other side of the street, a few people are standing in line to be let inside your town’s best version of a nightclub. You’re not certain what exactly brought you here, and you’re sure that if the happy, club-dressed people took the time to observe their surroundings, they’d notice you staring and look at you weirdly in turn.

“Hello?”

Registering the almost rude-sounding voice, you blink as you turn your head. It’s a guy. 

“Huh?”

His face looks skeptic, and he’s got his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s not wearing a jacket or coat of any kind over his white t-shirt, so you gather he’s in the middle of a night out. Probably left a bar for a smoke and spotted you.

“I asked you what your name is? Like three times?”

He’s good looking with black hair and dark eyes, but the tone of his voice is very unattractive, and you have no interest in him whatsoever, knowing he isn’t just looking to be your friend.

“Oh. Uh…”

You don’t say it. It’s not that you don’t remember your name or that you’re making a conscious effort to deny him the information, but it’s like your thoughts are at a standstill. 

“Beat it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. His lips didn’t move.

“And who are you?” he asks, irritation dripping from his words, and this time, his lips are moving. However, his eyes are not on you but on something behind you.

Just as you’re about to turn around, the man in front of you leaves. His steps are quick, his mission abandoned.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course. It clicks the moment the vampire comes into view, and you’re surprised you didn’t immediately recognize his deep voice. He’s wearing that same leather jacket and some black pants, an outfit still very much inappropriate for winter. Though, something about him feels… wilder, almost a little uncontained? You can’t put your finger on what exactly.

“Uh, people-watching,” you inform as he rounds the bench, sitting down next to you.

Because he’s beautiful like no other, you glance discreetly at his face. He’s so masculine, but in certain lights, you glimpse something softer. You particularly like his nose and its rounded tip. It gives him such an attractive profile, you think, gaze traveling over his features and lingering on his dark eyelashes.

“Why? Isn’t it cold as hell for you?”

“Uhm, I don’t know? And I guess?”

From looking straight ahead, he turns his head, redirecting his full attention to you. The light from the closest street lamp reflects in his dark eyes.

“Is there any truth to that whole ‘vampires are designed to lure humans in’ thing?”

He grins. “I lure you in?”

“You’re more intimidating than you are attractive, actually,” you admit earnestly, wincing a little on the inside at how it came out a bit like an insult. He’s definitely attractive, and maybe the fact that he is so attractive is part of why he’s also so intimidating. “I’m just wondering what you looked like before.”

“I’ve always looked like this,” he explains casually, once again peering out over the cold, dark street. “Vampirism doesn’t change anything besides, like, skin impurities and conditions. I would’ve shown you a picture, but there were no cameras around when I was human,” he smiles cheekily.

“Anyway, you should go home. It’s really cold and not really safe at this time either,” he encourages.

You nod, realizing that he wants to protect his backup supply. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll see you next week.”

“Mhm.”

You expect him to get up and leave, confused when five seconds pass and he hasn’t moved. The feeling seems to be mutual because he turns his head to look at you again.

“So, are you leaving or not?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You look away, clearing your throat a bit awkwardly and realizing that you might just have to tell him, since he doesn’t seem to be leaving before you. “I don’t think I… can. I walked here, but I think I overestimated myself.”

The vampire looks you over briefly, probably just to be sure, but you both know that your main health concerns aren’t visible. 

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, not that far. Like less than a ten minute walk, but I…”

“What’s your address?”

“124 Conch Street.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Puzzled, you follow his instructions and slowly rise to your feet. Though you’ve been sitting stranded on the bench for almost two hours, the dizziness returns the moment you stand.

But the vampire isn’t satisfied. “Get up on the bench and undo your coat up to your waist.”

This time, you give him a skeptic look.

“Just do as I say,” he holds his hand out for you.

Slowly and still confused, you take it, and with his aid, you step up onto the bench.

To your surprise, he lets go, and before you know it, he’s unzipped your coat from the bottom up to your waist, positioned himself in front of you, and grabbed your thighs. Instinctively, you place your arms around his neck as he hoists you onto his back and starts walking.

“What are you doing?” you breathe quietly.

“Taking you home in an inconspicuous way. It looks like we’re a couple, does it not?”

“Definitely an odd and unexpected couple if so, but I guess?”

“You’re a pretty girl, you know?”

Your lungs hold your breath for an extra second before slowly releasing it, and then you hum, but it’s only to actually provide him with an answer. You definitely don’t think you’re anywhere near pretty enough for someone like him. He doesn’t call you out on your vague answer.

You’re not the most common sight, couple or not, and people still watch you as you pass them. Unsure as to how to meet their curious gazes, you don’t; turning your head forward instead. When you’re so close, you inevitably catch his scent, only to find that he doesn’t smell like a whole lot. There are traces of soap, laundry detergent, and maybe a hint of cologne, but not much else. No lingering smell of sweat or anything like that.

He walks you through the city and past the alleyway where you first found him. It’s quiet, except for the muted sound of his footsteps as well as those of a man a bit ahead, evidently hurrying to get home and away from the cold.

“Are there more vampires here?” you wonder, looking around the silent street and thinking it might not be as empty as it seems. 

“Yes,” he confirms casually.

It has your brain working, and the surroundings reminding you of why you’re with him in the first place.

“How are you going to kill me?”

If he’s caught off guard by your straightforward question, he does a good job of not showing it. 

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. But I’d rather not bleed out,” you say, body aching at the mere thought. Although you’re certain there are much worse ways to go, you really don’t like the feeling of severe blood loss.

“It’s the easiest way though,” he explains. “It’s not as easy to drain a body without a heartbeat to move the blood around.”

“Are you familiar with livestock?” you ask, thinking back to what your three-year-older cousin once told you as you biked past a field of cows one summer when you were ten. “You can kill the animal and then ‘deblood’ them by hanging the body upside down and cutting their throat. The blood will drain easily. Do you have a bathtub?”

“You’re… a person though, still,” he says, and though he doesn’t falter in his steps, you can tell your words don’t sit quite right with him. “There’s no dignity in an ending like that. And don’t you care what happens to your body?”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You thought vampires were all bloodthirsty monsters, only biding their time until they can rip someone new apart. The messier, the better. The vampire, who’s carrying you on his back, made no effort to appear nice either. At least not at first. Now, you don’t even know.

You shrug slightly. You’re not a spiritual person, and you’ve never believed in something like an afterlife. “It’s just meat and bones. I won’t be here anymore, and no one’s going to be looking for me, anyway. There’s no use in keeping things ‘pretty.’”

He doesn’t say anything in turn, and you wonder how much about you he knows. How much about your life he realizes.

The vampire’s smooth movement lulls you further into relaxation, and you lean your head partly against your own arm, partly against him. He doesn’t say anything.

Way sooner than if you would’ve walked with your own two legs—if you would’ve made it home at all—he puts you down in front of your apartment complex. You search your pockets, locating your keys in the left one. 

“Going home now? Since you can’t enter without permission,” you joke tiredly, unlocking the front entrance with the key fob. 

The vampire raises his eyebrows. “I might as well make sure you don’t somehow trip and spill all my blood on the way to your apartment,” he smirks, grabbing the door and opening it wide without breaking eye contact. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read.”

The smile he’s wearing as he makes a show out of stepping inside the building is another chilling one. You can’t say that you expected him to hit an invisible wall or anything, but for some reason, it would’ve almost felt… nice if that were the case. Considering your situation, you’re not sure why. 

The elevator is empty and waiting for you, and after getting inside, you press the button for floor two, the vampire coming to stand beside you.

“Is there anything that is true regarding vampires?” you ask quietly as if someone would hear you inside the elevator.

“Besides the fact that we drink blood?”

“Yeah. Are you like, immortal and stuff? Super old?”

He chuckles. “Kinda. I don’t think anything’s truly immortal, but we do have a longer life span, yes.”

“What about senses? Can you hear my heart beat right now?”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s about to burst through your chest.”

Yeah, because it’s strained to hell and back, trying to keep you alive even in the condition you’re in.

“And super speed, super strength and all that?”

“Mhm, although we’re not so fast we go blurry. Are you impressed?”

“I don’t know? What do you use it for? I can’t think of even one thing having those powers would improve in my life.”

“Tough crowd,” he chuckles, avoiding your question as he follows you out of the elevator. 

You understand that being physically superior is helpful when you’re a literal predator, and yeah, maybe being able to walk a tiny bit faster to work every morning would’ve saved you some time, but what else? Oh, yeah, one time, you had to throw away a jar of pickles because you simply could not get it open. Being stronger would’ve definitely helped you then. 

Reaching your door, you’re quick to unlock it and pull it open to head inside, ignoring the two envelopes lying on the floor in your hallway. The vampire stays at the door, watching as you start to remove your coat two or so steps away from him.

“Are those… bruises?”

Turning your head as you make your way to the wardrobe to put the coat away, you see the vampire looking almost worried. You look down at the skin on your arms. 

“Yeah.”

“Let me look at them,” he urges, holding his hand out.

“Why? They come with anemia; why does it matter?”

“Still, I want to see. Come over here.”

Despite looking oddly insistent, he makes no effort to actually enter your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. “You really can’t come inside without an invitation, can you?”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Technically, no, I can’t step inside unless you give me permission.”

It makes you laugh a little in wonder. “Wow.”

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell it amuses him a little too.

“Listen, I’ll be fine until we meet again and if the bruises are still there, you can look at them then. I kinda don’t actually want to invite you in, is that rude of me?”

“No, it’s not. Very reasonable, actually.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday?”

He nods politely and steps back. “See you.”

You watch him leave, his footsteps sounding through the hall as you bend down to pick up the envelopes you’ve been ignoring for days. They’re probably bills, and you’ll be dead soon, so who really cares if you pay them or not?

Mindlessly, you approach the door to close it, your focus on the white paper in your hands. You put your finger under the fold to rip the first envelope open, wincing when the paper cuts through your skin instead.

Holding your finger up, you inspect the damage and the little bead of red that’s forming next to the invisible cut. You look at it, furrowing your eyebrows at how you feel like something’s… missing? A moment later, you realize what it is, and your body freezes. 

The footsteps have stopped.

It dawns on you, as you look at the blood, what the vampire was actually doing tonight and why he looked wilder than usual. Early Saturday night, lurking around the clubs until he found you and had to abandon his plans. 

He was hunting.

Your eyes widen and your heart stops as you hear it. One footstep. Then another. And another. They’re speeding up, and soon enough running toward you.

Before you’ve had a chance to shut the door, it flies wide open. Panicked, you move farther into the apartment, but you fall backward and by pure instinct, crawl back as quickly as you can.

Despite claiming that he couldn’t enter without your permission, the vampire falls to his knees, then all fours, to reach you. You’ve never seen anything as scary as the bloodthirsty creature grasping the air, trying to get you. He moves so quickly, and his hand is just about to grab your foot when it’s like… he’s held back by something. 

You're breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening. Why doesn’t he just move another three centimeters? He licks his lips in frustration, exposing fangs that are definitely longer than you remember. Meeting his eyes, they’re cold like never before, and he exhales angrily. He’s still reaching for you, and frozen in your spot, you look over at him, briefly wondering if his feet got stuck or something when it hits you.

He can’t step inside.

You sit there, your feet mere centimeters from his grasping hand when there’s a sound down the hall, and in a split second, the vampire seems to snap out of it. He looks at you, appearing to realize what he’s doing and somehow gaining control over himself. Looking around, he gets up, and he leaves. Quickly and without a word.

Wide-eyed and with your heart beating painfully, you remain on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Even when his footsteps are long gone, you’re too afraid to get up and close the door, worried that he’ll return and be able to reach you. 

You’d like a very serious word with whoever established the ‘no entering without permission’ rule but also decided that the vampires could cheat it by keeping their feet outside and crawling inside.

You sleep a little uneasy the following nights, thinking a lot. Of course, your thoughts are mostly occupied by those cold, black eyes, thirsty for your blood.

<previous | next> happy halloween <3<3

[multifariousqueer]

can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe

Sure love!!!

A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷

It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.

You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.

Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:

“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”

“Oh don’t worry about it” you said

“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.

“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him

“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils

But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.

Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:

Miles: did someone take your card?

You: no why??

Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??

You: I’m at the mall

Miles: so? I pay for your shit

You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀

Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit

You: you aren’t my sugar daddy

Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute

You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:

You: Okay

You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:

Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?

You: ?

Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?

You: ok

Miles: ?

You: we can discuss this when I get home

Miles: K

You: k

It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:

“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked

“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face

[httpscomexe]

Double Trouble

Day 1 of Kink-Tober - Double Penetration

Summary: You never listen on missions, and you’re not too sure that the punishment from your two best friends would change that at all.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Arson, violence, fire, language, pv smut, fingering, oral, kind of non-con, forced sex if you squint, double pen (Lmk if I missed any)

Tags: @cellyx33

Word Count: (Find my Kink-Tober list here) 2769

P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.

“Investigators are still unsure of what has caused this explosion, but the accident is leading to an arsenic attack. There are no known motives leading to the fire, which officials believe was more of an attack with intended murder.

Only one body was found in the fire, a sixty-three year old man. After a quick look up, the police force discovered he was wanted for tax evasion along with seven other crimes that are punishable by death, including human trafficking, and other triggering activities.

The man went by the name “Firehouse,” ironic considering the situation, and his government issued name has been identified as “Donald Pastry Newsont.” If anyone has any information involving the situation, please call…”

“This shits annoying.” Bucky grumbles, reaching over to turn off the radio.

“Hey I was gonna call that number!” You joke in the back seat, sliding the thick fireproof pants off of your waist and onto the floor.

“Very funny, Y/N.” Steve, the driver, keeps his eyes on the road, but you occasionally see his eyes move to the mirror facing the middle backseat where you were.

“What? I have information on it.”

“We weren’t supposed to cause an explosion.” Bucky rubs circles on his temples. Annoyed by you. Yea. You weren’t supposed to blow up the house, but you couldn’t help it.

“I know that, but it was an accident.”

“You are literally wearing an entire fucking fireproof outfit.” Steve slams his hand on the wheel, a little more aggressively than he means to.

“Language Stevie.” You mumble, taking off the jacket part of your outfit.

“Can’t you take that off when we get to the damned hotel?”

“It’s like super hot.” You complain to Bucky, throwing the last of the articles of clothing on the floor before removing the long piece of ribbon from your ponytail that was holding your hair together, which you tie around your wrist. “Y’all are just jealous you don’t have fireproof gear.” You taunt, leaning forward as you rest your arms on the shoulders of their chairs.

“We ALL have fireproof suits. And we would’ve brought them if we knew you were going to start a fucking fire.” Bucky turns around, his face inches from yours.

“Oh come on. It was cool.”

“Yea, it was totally so cool when you zipped up your outfit before throwing the match on the ground and I barely had two seconds before the shit blew up to put my shield in front of me.” He turns the car, taking a right onto a one way street.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No.” Bucky cuts in, facing you again. His look is serious. You knew he didn’t like you disobeying what they tell you for missions this important. But this time they were both angry. Normally, it would just be Bucky, or just Steve. So you know you fucked up.

“You two bring up the bags, I’ll get the key.” Steve nods towards you and Bucky after putting the car in park. “And let's actually follow orders this time. Okay?” He asks, sarcastically.

You nod, getting out of the car with an annoyance in your step as you cover your body with crossed arms. The uniform you were wearing was more like lingerie. Normally it wouldn’t bother you around the two people you feel most comfortable with, but when they are mad, it only makes you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. So you follow behind Bucky, carrying your own bag of clothes while he carries his own and Steves, the elevator ride uncomfortably silent as Steve gets the key to the room. Leaving you alone with Bucky as you both stand at the door to the room. Not a single word to be spoken.

You look up at him, his eyes focused on the screen of his phone as his thumb scrolls along the device, little images moving through his blue eyes tells you he’s scrolling through someone's Instagram profile. You look down at his left hand, his metal thumb hooked into the pocket of his jeans as he stands there, staring at his phone, a pissed look still visible on his face.

Then you hear footsteps, causing both of you to turn your head to also pissed off Steve Rogers, the room key between his index and middle finger.

“A little quiet. Are you guys suddenly mortal enemies?” He jokes, scanning the key on the hotel door before holding the door open for you and Bucky.

“Why talk to her when she doesn’t even listen?” Bucky asks, rhetorically. Then he throws the bags of clothes down, crouching over to take out some clothes. “Who wants to shower first?”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Let her shower first. She was wearing that thick suit. I'm sure enough she smells like shit.” Steve crouches next to Bucky, also grabbing his clothes.

You open the door to the bedroom, taking one step in before stopping and looking down at the two best friends. “Hey, who’s sleeping where?”

“There’s two beds. You get one bed, we share the other-”

“There’s only one bed.” You interrupt Steve, his eyebrows squinting in confusion. “There should be two, are you sure?”

“Well unless I’m blind or forgot how to count, yes, I’m sure.” He stands up with Bucky, both of them looking into the room. One king sized bed.

“Well shit. I’ll go down to the office.” Bucky tells you both, then leaves without another word.

“If they can’t get a two bedroom for us then you and Bucky take the bed. The couch will be too small for you both.” You offer.

“The bed will be uncomfortable for you.”

“I’ve slept on the floors.”

“Correction. You’ve tried to sleep on the floors.” He looks down at you, your arms crossing over your stomach in a sort of challenge. “Fine. We can take the bed if he can’t find another room.” He sighs, walking back over to his bags on the floor. “Go ahead and start your shower though.” He groans as he throws himself onto the couch and stretches as you head to the bathroom, setting the water warm before getting undressed and stepping into the shower. The water falling mutes the sound of Bucky coming back in. You couldn’t understand a word he said, but he sounded annoyed. So you assume there isn’t another room.

When you’re done, you step out. The smell of your lavender shampoo and bodywash filling the air as you wrap a towel around your hair and dry your body before dressing into your short Captain America pyjamas and your thin black top with a red star on the chest, not wanting to throw on a bra or panties, you step out and put the two back in your bag on the floor, missing the looks that Bucky and Steve give you, also missing the look and nod they give each other.

“Hey, Y/N.” You look up to Steve's voice. “I don’t want to report your actions.” He stands from the couch and walks over to you until you have to bend your neck to look up at him. “I don’t like you getting in trouble for disobeying simple orders. But you have to be punished in some way.”

“Please don’t report it…” You beg a little, Bucky moving up behind Steve as they stand shoulder to shoulder. “Another report and I’m back to being a desk agent.” You whine a little.

“Which would really suck, wouldn’t it?” Bucky's eyes stare straight into yours, some hidden darkness concealed behind his pupil, you nod urgently.

“Then how should you learn your lesson?” Steve takes another step closer, his hand reaching up to push some hair behind your ear. “You have to learn somehow.”

“You need to be punished, Y/N.” Bucky whispers harshly, his left hand resting on your waist suddenly as your hands move to your stomach, the entire interaction making you nervous as you start to pick at your skin.

“I feel like you’re both implying the same thing right now…” Your voice is quiet, any louder and it would crack. “But I uh… Want conformation on what exactly-”

“I think the three of us should all share the bed, what do you think?”

You’re silent for a moment.

Your jaw clenching shut as his words shock you slightly, emitting a chuckle from Steve's throat. “What’s wrong baby, cat got your tongue?” You practically feel your eyes enlarge at his nickname.

Baby…

“Steve I don’t-”

“Enough talking. Get on the bed.” Bucky demands, his eyes leaving no room for argument as Steve begins walking you backwards until the back of your knees find the bed, Bucky gently pushing you to sit down before they both begin removing their shirts, and you scoot back a little. Debating whether or not you want this, your thighs clamped shut.

“Top or bottom?” Steve asks Bucky, nodding towards him.

“Top. You get the bottom.” He tells him, undoing his pants in front of you as Bucky already has his unzipped and unbuttoned, the tent in his boxers obvious as he crawls onto the bed, pulling you into his lap, facing away from him and you watch Steve get onto the bed. Sitting on his knees in front of you.

“Open up.” He tells you, gently slapping the side of your thigh before reaching forward and hooking his fingers through your shorts, quickly pulling them off. You immediately squeeze your thighs tighter. Wishing you could lock them shut. You try to speak, but your lips are locked in place of your thighs. “I said open the fuck up.” He demands this time, his large hands placed on both thighs, gripping your flesh carefully.

“Steve I don’t want-” Your voice cracks as he shuts you up with his own words.

“Shut up.” He grumbles, then forces your thighs open, a gasp coming from your lips as you feel the cold air against your heat. “Such a pretty pussy…”

He leans down, and only then do you realise Bucky has his arms around your stomach, keeping you still as he leans forward, kissing and biting the skin on your neck.

You moan, the feeling of Steve's beard against your sensitive flesh making your eyes roll as his tongue and teeth work diligently, two of his fingers eventually finding their way inside of you in place of his tongue when he begins to thrust his digits against your walls.

“Good girl…” Bucky whispers into your ear, biting your lobe before resuming his marks on your throat, one of his hands snaking down to find your clit, and he begins to rub circles around the bud, your eyes only enlarging.

You want to say something. To push them away. But you feel numb, like their touch was a drug that paralyzed you from head to toe, apart from the rocking of your hips as you seek more of Steve's touch, the feelings of both of their touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“S-Steve…” You moan, his face still buried in your cunt as he eats you out, his fingers curling to massage your g-spot, a hum from his throat sending vibrations through your body. “Bucky…” You whimper, and Barnes’ teeth bite your skin harder, his fingers massaging your clit. The feelings driving you crazy… “Feels… so good…” You whisper, trying not to moan too loudly.

“Come for us baby… Let Steve taste your sweet pussy…” Bucky's voice soothes your thoughts as he brings his two fingers up, sticking them between your lips as he lets you purse your lips around his digits, tasting yourself on his skin was just another reason to throw your head back against his shoulder, his lips moving down to bite your neck as you come, Steves hands gripping your thighs tighter as he feels your gummy walls clench around his own fingers, your juices coating his beard as he lets you ride out your orgasm.

“Good fucking girl…” Steve groans, sitting back up on his knees, keeping your legs apart as he slaps your pussy, drawing another moan from your lips before you feel Bucky's hands move between your bodies, then his dick is against your ass, making your back involuntarily arch away, but then your eyes land on Steve's cock, which was also removed from his boxers while you were looking away.

Boy did that serum do something for him. His size was unrealistic. There was no way he would be able to fit that thing inside of you. Ever.

“Look at her. Panting like a fucking dog and we haven’t even fucked her yet.” You feel Bucky's hand come up and close your mouth, his fingers resting under your jaw before he presses a kiss to your cheek. “So fucking hot…” He mumbles, then he grips your waist, pulling you back as he leans back. You were sure enough he was just as big as Steve. “You ready?” He asks, lifting you slightly to position you over his cock, Steve staring with a shit eating grin.

You don’t even answer, but he slowly lowers you down, the intrusion making you bite your lip, your eyes rolling in pleasure as Steve situates himself between your legs, leaning forward to press kisses to your throat, his thumb rubbing your clit as the feeling becomes unbearable. You’ve never done anything like this before.

Fuck.

You’ve never done anything.

“Take a deep breath…” Steve tells you. “This might hurt…” He warns, attempting to push two of his fingers inside of you, but of course, they don’t fit. Bucky’s cock already stretching you to the limit. “Fuck… So tight.” He groans, then forces the two fingers inside of you, making your hips jerk, a yelp coming from your lips which is quickly silenced by Bucky’s hand covering your throat as Steves fingers slowly move in and out of you, eventually adding a third finger as he stretches you open, Bucky’s soft lips on your neck distracting you as Steve moves closer, his free hand moving to stroke his shaft.

“Breathe for me baby…” He whispers again, this time his breath fanning over your skin as he positions himself between your legs, his hand between your bodies as he aligns the tip of his dick with your filled centre. “Just breathe…” He tells you one more time, then he slowly pushes forward, barely getting in the tip before the mix of a moan and scream come muffled behind Bucky’s palm, but Steve doesn’t stop. He keeps pushing. And he pushes until he can’t anymore.

“Told you she could fit us both.” Bucky mumbles, and Steve begins to slowly move. Your sounds are still muffled by the hand over your mouth, which quickly turns from painful moans to pleasurable crying. “And she’s behaving so well…” He groans, the feeling of Steve's cock moving against his driving him crazy.

Steve moves faster, his hands squeezing your thighs, and their groans indicate they’re both holding back. Steve's rough touch, and Bucky’s biting and kissing your skin as your moans fill the room. Loud enough you’re surprised no one else could hear.

“So fucking perfect…”

“Such a perfect little pussy…”

“Love the little sounds she makes…”

“Isn’t she perfect?”

All fall on your deft ears, your brain ringing, your eyes trying to close as your energy leaves your body. You couldn’t think about anything.

The lips of Bucky on your skin and the feeling of Stevies cock moving inside of you, along with the feeling of Bucky’s cock being right beside his was enough to make your pupils turn your eyes black, the moans stopping and your body convulsing under Steve and above Bucky as you’re about to come again. It was the fifth time this night, or maybe sixth? You didn’t know anymore, you’d lost track of them after the second.

When they are done, Steve pulls out first, followed by Bucky, both of them watching as a string of cum drops from your stretched hole, Steve's fingers moving to gently push it back inside of you before cleaning his fingers with your lips.

“You did so good…” He tells you, but you hardly hear it as your body struggles to stay awake.

“She did amazing…” Bucky tells him from behind as his fingers begin to gently massage your thighs. “So good we don’t have to report her…”

“You look tired…” Steve gently pushes some of the mess of your hair behind your ear. An act that was innocent before but now felt like it would always be hidden behind some dark intent. “Too bad we aren’t done…”

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

hoodie season || Chan x Reader

Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.

A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.

Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!

It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?

It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.

“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.

“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”

He nods, and that’s all there is to it.

It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.

After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.

“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”

You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.

“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”

“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.

He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.

 The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.

“Just in case you get cold.”

You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.

“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”

Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.

 You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.

He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.

“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.

Chan beams.

His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.

You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.

It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.

He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.

“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”

“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”

It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.

“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.

“I love you too,” you whisper back.

The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.

You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.

It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.

Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.

“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.

You miss the way he pouts at you.

It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.

“What was that?” you ask with a frown.

Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.

“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”

You blink at him.

“…because they’re your hoodies?”

He opens his mouth, closes it.

“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”

You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.

“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”

The blush spreads.

“Do you like it when I wear them?”

You’re just having fun now.

“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”

You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.

“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”

He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.

You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.

So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.

taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

Masterlist

[local-dragon-haunt]

hey! i’m an artist and i was wondering what about the httyd crossover art made it obviously AI. i’m trying to get better at recognizing AI versus real art and i totally would have just not clocked that.

Hey! This is TOTALLY okay to not have recognized it, because I DIDN'T AT FIRST, EITHER. Unfortunately there’s no real foolproof way to distinguish real art from the fake stuff. However I have noticed a general rule of thumb while browsing these last few months.

So this is the AI generated image I used as inspiration. I will not be tagging the account that posted it because I do not condone bullying of any type, but it’s important to mention that this was part of a set of images:

This is important because one of the BIGGEST things you can use to your advantage is context clues. This is the thing that clued me in: right off the bat we can see that there is NO consistency between these three images. The art style and outfits change with every generated image. They're vaguely related (I.E. characters that resemble the Big Four are on some sort of adventure?) and that's about it. Going to the account in question proved that all they posted were AI generated images. All of which have many red flags, but for clarity's sake we'll stick with the one that I used.

The first thing that caught my eye was this???? Amorphous Blob in the background. Which is obviously supposed to be knights or a dragon or something.

Again, context clues come into play here. Artists will draw everything With A Purpose. And if what they're drawing is fanart, you are going to recognize most of what you see in the image. Even if there are mistakes.

In the context of this image, it looks like the Four are supposed to be running from these people. The thing that drew my attention to it was the fact that I Didn't Recognize The Villains, and this is because there is nothing to recognize. These shapes aren't Drago, or Grimmel, or Pitch, or any other villain we usually associate with ROTBTD. They're just Amorphous Blobs that are vaguely villain shaped.

Which brings me to my second point:

Do you see the way they're standing? There is no purpose to this. It throws the entire image off. Your eye is drawn to the Amorphous Villain Blobs in the background, and these characters are not reacting to them one bit.

Now I'm not saying that all images have to have a story behind them, but if this were created by a person, it clearly would have had one. Our group here is not telling a story, they are posing.

This is because the AI does not see the image as a whole, but as two separate components: the setting, and the description of the characters that the prompter dictates. I.E. "Merida from Brave, Jack Frost from ROTG, Rapunzel from Tangled, and Hiccup from HTTYD standing next to each other"

Now obviously the most pressing part of this prompt are the characters themselves. So the AI prioritizes that and tries to spit out something that WE recognize as "Merida from Brave, Jack Frost from ROTG, Rapunzel from Tangled, and Hiccup from HTTYD standing next to each other".

This, more times than not, is going to end up with this stagnant posing. Because AI cannot create, it can only emulate. And even then, it still can't do it right. Case in point:

This is not Hiccup. The AI totally thinks this is Eugene Fitzherbert. Look at the pose. The facial structure. The goatee. The smirk. The outfits. He's always next to Raps. Why does he have a quiver? Where's Toothless? His braids? His scar??

HE HAS BOTH OF HIS LEGS.

The AI. Cannot even get the most important part of it's prompt correct.

And that's just the beginning. Here:

More amorphous shapes.

So these are obviously supposed to be utility belts, but I mean. Look at them. The perspective is all off. There are useless straps. I don't even know what that cluster behind Jack's left arm is supposed to be.

This is a prime example of AI emulating without understanding structure.

You can see this particularly in Jack, between his hands, the "tassels" of his tunic, and the odd wrinkles of his boots. There's just not any structure here whatsoever.

Lastly, AI CANNOT CREATE PATTERNS.

Here are the side-by-sides of the shit I had to deal with when redesigning their outfits. Please someone acknowledge this. This killed me inside. THIS is most recognizable to me, and usually what I look for first if I'm wary about an art piece. These clusterfuck bunches of color. I hate them. I hate them so. much.

Anyways here's some other miscellaneous things I've noticed:

Danny Phantom Eyes

???? Thumb? (and random sword sheath)

Collarbone Necklace (corset from hell)

No Staff :( No Bow :(

What is that.

So yeah. Truly the best thing to do is to just. study it. A lot of times you aren't gonna notice anything just looking at the big picture, you need to zoom in and focus on the little details. Obviously I'm not like an expert in AI or anything, but I do have a degree in animation practices and I'm. You know. A human being. So.

In conclusion:

(Y'all should totally reblog my redesign of this btw)

[alisonwritesimagines]

Blood Son's Girlfriend ~Batmom Imagine~

Summary: Damian takes his new girlfriend Raven to meet you.

Author’s Note: I ship Damian and Raven in Teen Titans vs the Justice League. Also, Damian and Raven are 18 and 20 in this. I think Raven is older than Damian by like two years? Martha is five in this.

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: fluff

Do not repost this anywhere!

There was one person that Damian valued for their opinion. And that person was you.

So when he began to date Raven, he wanted you to meet her after the first month of dating.

“I’m nervous to meet your mom,” Raven tells him as they walked over to the backyard.

“She’ll love you,” Damian reassured her.

Raven knew about you and Bruce. She also knew that you weren’t Damian’s biological mother but he loved you like you were. You had changed Damian in a good way. So when he told Raven that he wanted her to meet you, of course it was natural to feel nervous. Raven had met Bruce on multiple occasions so she wasn't too nervous.

They found you under the gazebo in the backyard with Martha, Alfred, and Bruce sitting with you. It looked like a tea party as Martha was in a dress and a tiara.

“Damie!” Martha yelled excitedly before running over to hug her older brother. Damian picked her up before hugging her back.

“Hey Martha.”

“Do you and your friend want to join my tea party?” Martha asked.

“Sure. Are there seats for us?” Damian asked.

“Yes!”

“Okay then. You up for a tea party?” Damian asked Raven.

“It sounds fun,” she smiled softly. The three of them got closer to the gazebo where you were sitting and smiling with Bruce, waiting to be introduced to Damian’s girlfriend.

“Ummi. Father. I want you two to meet Raven. My girlfriend,” Damian introduced.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you say as you got up. You have her a hug before looking at her outfit. “I love your outfit!”

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Wayne. Damian talks about you.”

“You can call me Y/n.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Raven,” Bruce smiles as he shook hands with Raven.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”

“Damian and Raven are having tea with us!” Martha said excitedly.

“Do you drink tea Raven?” You asked her.

“Yes ma'am."

“We have some good tea right now. And Alfred has made some sandwiches and little snacks for us,” you tell her.

Raven sat next to you and Damian as Martha carefully poured tea into a cup for her.

“Make sure you raise your pinky,” Martha tells Raven.

“Okay,” Raven nodded.

Damian watched as you and Martha got along with Raven. After the tea party, Damian and Raven had to head back.

“It was so nice to meet you Raven! I hope to see you again soon,” you tell her after giving her a hug.

“It was nice to meet you too. Thank you for the tea party.”

“Now that Martha is the only child in the mansion, we basically have to listen to her,” you joked.

“We’ll visit again soon,” Damian tells you.

“Oh! Maybe we can have a dinner sometime with everyone! I miss you kids. You hardly visit anymore,” you pouted.

“Sorry. I’ll talk to the others and plan something for you,” Damian said.

“You two have a safe drive back,” Bruce tells them.

“Thanks. We’ll see you again soon,” Damian said before walking off with Raven.

“I can’t believe Damian has a girlfriend now,” you say out loud as you began to clean up the tea party.

“I can’t believe someone is willing to date him. Remember how anti social he was?” Bruce asked.

“Don’t remind me. But he looks like he's getting better," you tell him.

"She's a powerful being with powers including manipulation and telepathy," Bruce said.

"If someone is using powers on our children I would notice. But she seems like a nice young girl who is dealing with Damian now so if you're worried, I'd be more worried about her," you tell Bruce. Bruce felt Martha tap on him to get his attention, making Bruce pick her up.

"Mommy? Can we go visit Jason tomorrow?" Martha asked you.

"Let's see if he's busy before we go visit him," you tell her.

"Okay!"

"Let's help mommy put the tea set away before she calls him okay?" Bruce tells Martha.

"Okay," Martha nodded.

[fallingformatt]

FIRST GLANCE M.S. PT. 1

Matt x fem!reader

summary: while walking to the bar with your best friend you accidentally bump into Matt, then later you unexpectedly bump into him again, leading the two of you to do unholy things.

warnings: FILTHY ASS SMUTTT!!! unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstimulation, slight degradation, slight praising.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: Thank all of you so much for the love on the last post, as I started writing literally so recently it means a lot to me. Also these scenarios keep popping up in my head and I write them down immediately and just work on them till I’m finished, so yea Im posting three days in a row. THIS IS SO GOOD DOE, not proofread.

➽───────────────❥

"But I have nothing to wear," I whine as I plop down on my best friend's bed. She really wanted us to go out to this cute bar she found on TikTok.

"Wait, I have something in my closet perfect for you," she said excitedly, pulling out a black mini dress. "It's just a black mini dress, what so special about it?" I ask with a confused look plastered on my face. "It's not the dress that's perfect," she says as she starts to dig around her closet again. "It's what you're going to wear with it," she exclaims.

"Found it," she says and excitement can be heard in her voice. She pulls out a box that has 'GUCCI' written on it. She pulls off the lid and there are a pair of tights in there. "Oh those are really pretty," I say as she opens the packaging for the first time. "That's not the end of it," she says swiftly turning around as she gets on her tippy toes to reach the highest shelf of her closet.

She manages to reach and pull out this little, red shoulder bag that screams money. "See it's not always about what you're wearing, sometimes it's about how you accessorize," she says happily clapping her hands together.

We both do our makeup and our hair while listening to music, chitchatting, and drinking some wine. As I finish my makeup and hair I get up to put on the outfit my best friend picked out for me. "Be careful with the tights, don't ruin them," she turns her head and says. "Don't worry, I won't, thank you for the cute outfit," I answer. "Glad to get you out of the house," she says as she also stands up finished with her makeup, and takes her clothes to change into.

We both step out of the house, ready to go to the bar, enjoy a few drinks, and maybe take some cute pictures for Instagram.

The city is lively, people walking down the streets, the sun almost gone, as the streets get darker. A bit tipsy from the wine we had, we walked, headed to the bar as it's not far from her place, our elbows intertwined as we continue to talk about everything that comes to our minds occasionally letting out a small laugh when one of us tells a joke.

My head is turned to my friend as she's retelling the story about her most stupid hookup, and I can't stop laughing. One moment I'm laughing about my friend's story and the next I feel myself trip over a pebble as I lose my balance. My body doesn't meet the ground, instead, it meets someone's chest. I quickly lean back to stand on my own feet again. I look up and my eyes meet the most beautiful guy I've ever seen. I look at him as I study his features, the fluffy hair, the silver earrings, his light stubble, and finally my eyes meet his, his icy blue eyes I could drown in.

I snap back to reality as I hear his voice "You okay there?" he says, his voice just as attractive as his looks. "Yeah sorry," I say as my friend pulls me to her. "Come on let's go," she says still holding onto my elbow and we walk past this beautiful stranger. As we're walking, I turn my head back to look at him and our eyes meet for the last time as we walk further away from each other, both walking in opposite directions.

We get to the bar and order some drinks, we sit down and look around. The bar really is cute, the ceiling is covered in flowers giving the place a fairytale vibe. I look to my side and notice this huge mirror that's covered in pink bows. "We have to take a picture there," I say as my eyes light up.

We're now 3 drinks into the evening and the guy from earlier crosses my mind. His face, his voice, his eyes. I could imagine him in between my legs as he eats me out giving me pleasure out of this world.

"Hello, are you listening to me?" my friend asks as she waves her hand in front of my face. I snap back to reality and look at her. "Did you hear anything I just said?" She asks. "You cockblocked me," I say furrowing my brows. "What do you mean?" She asks confused. "The guy I bumped into, he was totally into me," I say confidently. "Oh come on, that interaction lasted 2 seconds," she said laughing. "It was enough to make me understand that I need to be dicked down tonight," I answer. "Do you want to go to the club?" She asks. I nod my head happily. We finish our drinks and head out.

We walked around 5 minutes before we were in front of the club's door. Loud music can be heard as we walk in, lights shooting and changing color as we walk deeper into the club. My friend takes my hand as she pulls me into the dance floor. "This is my song," she exclaims as we both start dancing.

Feeling the light buzz the alcohol gave me, I close my eyes and move my hips to the rhythm of the song. I put up my hands as I get lost in the song dancing my heart out.

When the song finishes and I open my eyes, my best friend is nowhere to be seen. I try to move past all the people on the dance floor in an attempt to look for her.

As I walk towards the bar, I feel my ass brush against someone trying to get past the crowd. I turn around and look up. My eyes widen, not believing who I'm looking at.

It's the guy from earlier, the one who broke my trip and didn't let me fall to the ground. His eyes meet mine as a lustful smile appears on my lips.

"You really like to touch me don't you," the pretty boy says. "What are you doing here?" I ask. "Well, what do people usually do at the club?" He answers my question with a rhetorical question.

"Thanks for not letting me fall earlier," I say as I brush his chest over the place I bumped into. "You have to be more careful, watch where you're stepping, it could've been a stinky homeless guy, instead of me that you bumped into, I'm Matt by the way," he says, his charming voice making my knees weak.

"You wanna go dance?" I ask him, and without hesitation, he takes my hand and pulls me into the crowd at the dance floor.

We dance in sync as Matt's hands are placed on my hips guiding them side to side as my ass is brushing against his jeans, my one hand bent backward wrapped around the nape of his head.

I feel myself getting wet as I feel his hands starting to roam around my body, touching me in all the right places. I begin to grind my ass against his crotch feeling his dick getting hard as he lets out a hot breath in my ear.

Now one of his hands has traveled to my inner thigh as the other one keeps resting on my hip slowly guiding it up and down his hard, clothed cock. He sneaks his hand under my short dress, moving closer to my heat. His thumb starts to move in circles on my clit as his ring and middle finger move up and down over my clothed folds. I let out a moan as the pleasurable sensation entered my body. I throw back my head resting it on Matt's shoulder.

I feel Matt's hand suddenly stop, as he spins me around. "Follow me," he says when he leaned in closer to my ear so I'd be able to hear him over the loud music. His voice was dark, filled with lust.

Matt took my wrist and quickly led me to the bathrooms, he approached a door with a 'staff only' sign on it. When he pulled the handle I thought it would be locked, but it wasn't. We went in and it was as dim almost as the nightclub itself only a few colored lights giving the bathroom enough light to see where everything was. It was a big one toilet bathroom though, but it's still weird that the staff would have to do their business practically in the dark.

I snap out of my thoughts as I hear Matt closing the door behind him and turning the lock. He looked at me, his icy blue eyes were now dark, filled with hunger. He takes my hand and pulls me close, smashing his lips onto mine and his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. His hands travel around my body stopping at my ass, he grabs hard on it.

Without breaking the kiss he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I let out a moan feeling the cold buckle of his belt against my heat. He walks over to the counter where the sink is located and sits me down.

He breaks the kiss and looks me in my eyes, slowly kneeling down. His head is now on one level with my throbbing pussy. "Please," is all I manage to blur out.

I feel his cold fingertips trace along my thigh as he stops at my core, rubbing circles on my clit and I let out a loud moan. With one sharp movement, I hear the tights rip making me feel the cold countertop on my bare skin as the tights now have huge runs in them.

Matt's hands guide my legs on top of his shoulders, he pulls me closer giving him better access to my pussy, making me lean against the mirror that was on the wall behind the counter. I let out a whine as I felt two of his cold fingers moving my thong to the side now giving him full access to my dripping hole.

Matt looks up at me before moving closer, placing a trail of kisses from my thigh to my sensitive bud, causing my fingers to intertwine with his fluffy hair. He sticks out his tongue and starts licking circles around my clit. I roll my eyes to the back of my head. I feel his cold fingers pressing against my pussy, teasing me. "I need you," I manage to whimper under my breath and without any hesitation I feel his fingers push deep inside me, his cold rings pressed outside of my pussy.

I moan out loudly as his tongue and his fingers move in a rhythm giving me unimaginable pleasure. His fingers curled inside of me, places so deep I could never reach them on my own, his other hand holding a tight grip on my thigh. I feel a knot forming in my stomach. "Cl- close," I whimper out not able to say anything else.

His fingers slide out of my pussy and his tongue replaces them. Curling his tongue in my hole, I gasp out of the intense pleasure, Matt's now free hand traveling to my other thigh, holding on to it.

My sloppy moans fill the room as the pleasure is too much for me and I can't find the room to take in a full breath. "I'm about to cum," I moan out. He hums against my pussy, his tongue still in me curling inside of me. His voice sending vibrations through my core is enough for me to reach my climax. I let out a loud moan as I tug on his hair hard, bucking up my hips and rinding out my high.

Matt continues to move his tongue inside of me making my legs shake as the overstimulation rushes over me. My moans turn into loud pants, trying to catch my breath. My legs shake uncontrollably as his movements don't stop and he continues to curl his tongue, moving it in and out of me.

I try to move my legs, but Matt tightens his grip around my thighs, his short nails digging into my skin as I let out a hiss. I feel another orgasm coming, legs still shaking. "Don- pl- don't sto-" I try to speak in between my attempts to get some air in my lungs. I feel my vision getting blurry as I feel tears forming in my eyes from the intense pleasure.

My eyes roll to the back of my head as I feel Matt's thumb drawing circles on my clit. This is enough to send me over the edge and I squeeze Matt's head in between my shaking thighs as I cum for the second time.

I ride out my high and Matt stands up, his lips shining a bright red color. "You taste so sweet, I could eat you out all night," he says before kissing me and pulling on my bottom lip with his teeth.

"Get down," he says and yanks me by my wrists. As my feet meet the floor, I instantly lose balance as I'm not able to hold myself up on my own, still unable to fully breathe. Matt catches me, quickly turning me, my back facing him, and bending me over, pushing me against the counter.

I hear him unbuckling his belt before his pants fall to the ground. I look back at him and see him pulling down his boxers. He pushes my dress up revealing my almost bare ass as the only thing covering it is tights with huge runs and now holes in them.

I feel a sting as Matt slaps my ass making me moan out in pleasure. He pulls my thong to the side and without any warning he grabs my ass lifting it up before pushing his dick deeply inside of me, immediately kissing my g-spot on the first thrust. I let out a loud pornographic moan.

"Shit you feel so good around my cock baby," Matt moans, one of his hands placed on my lower back, the other traveled to my hair, weaving his hand around them to make a ponytail.

As he continues to plant deep, hard thrusts in me, he yanks my hair causing my head to tilt back, he leans in and places a kiss on my lips as his other hand now firmly holds onto my jaw.

"You're such a good girl for me, fuck," Matt growls breaking the contact between our lips, throwing his head back as his mouth falls open, his chest unevenly rising up and down.

Both of our heavy pants and moans are now filling the room. "Ahh fuck princess, you feel so tight, I'm about to cum," Matt moans out. My walls clench around his twitching cock as I also feel my orgasm coming, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, just a high-pitched whimper.

"Look at you, you're so pathetic, can't even say anything, I have fucked you dumb," he says and I hear how smug his voice is.

Matt thrusts a few more times before I feel my orgasm taking over me, and my legs again begin to shake. "Oh fuck," Matt moans out as he thrusts deeply painting my walls with his cum. He lets go of my hair as he pats my head "You're such a good girl," Matt says.

Matt pulls out his cock and pulls the dress over my ass pulling up his boxers and his jeans. I try to stand up feeling dizzy and lightheaded from the slightest movement. I lose my balance and Matt catches me once again. "Awww, I have really done a number on you, haven't I?" He asks teasingly, I just nod as I don't have the strength to answer.

Matt leads me to sit down on the toilet before he returns to the sink, and wets his hands under the cold, running water. He walks over to me and places one of his wet, cold hands at the nape of my neck and the other one on my cheek to help me come back to my senses.

We stand there like that for a while before he wipes the mascara that had run down my cheeks with his wet thumb while looking down at me giving me a warm smile, leaning down, and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

"How you feeling?" he asks innocently as if he didn't just fuck my brains out. "Better, I think I'm ready to go," I say as I stand up. We head to the door and I lead the way, unlocking the door we go out.

I see my best friend, she notices me too and rushes over, "What happened, where were you, I was searching all over for you!" she exclaims with a worried but angry voice as she looks me up and down. "What did you do to my tights?" Her eyes widen. "I got revenge on you for cockblocking me," I say as I smile. "Oh looks like we've got a brat on our hands," Matt says as he chuckles, leaning in, his hand on my hip, holding me tight, so I don't lose support.

"Bump into me again sometime," Matt says as a small smirk creeps on his lips.

[silkentine]

Okay okay okay everyone be cool.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! IT’S SANJI’S TURN!!! I think my bias really shines through by the fact that there are four illustrations rather than my usual three. Not to mention… this isn’t even half of the busts that I’ve drawn and also none of these are post-timeskip. I need to make a whoooole other character sheet for post-timeskip Sanji. She changes a lot in two years.

But I digress, here are my design notes for Sanji: (WARNING includes discussion of Sanji’s journey during the timeskip. There are also some super duper minor vague spoilers for whole cake island but those are written in blue so you can skip over them easily.)

So personality wise, I wanted to keep a lot of her complex relationship with femininity and gender. She grew up under the care of super butch Zeff who taught her that being a girl doesn’t mean that you have to be girly; in fact, it’s probably best if you toughen up so you can protect people who need it. Sanji takes this to heart and becomes a total tomboy, she believes that she’s rejected her feminine side completely.

She’s also a diehard romantic!! She’s the dashing prince who has come to save every damsel she comes across. She finds it very easy to flirt with women because it was very much the modus operandi on the Baratie, but she’s all talk. She gets flustered very easily once any romantic endeavor starts to bear fruit. She’ll make some poignant revelations about why once she lives in the Kamabakka Kingdom.

So why isn’t she wearing a suit? Because I’m a whore for an apron. It’s the perfect way to establish the silhouette of a dress but maintain a clean, utilitarian appearance. Fem!Sanji is more line-cook than waitress, but she DOES wear menswear pieces. I’ve put her in a silk vest with flared slacks in one outfit and she’s sporting that cute tie from Long Ring Long Land in another. Very preppy. I think she mostly wears tidier versions of Sanji’s more casual outfits: patterned button ups, cargo shorts, tees. She is religious about keeping her nails clean and manicured though. As fussy as canon Sanji is about his suits? Fem!Sanji is tenfold more fussy about her nails. She never wears polish (it could chip into the food) but her digits are trimmed perfectly and buffed to a shine.✨

She has a birthmark(?) at the nape of her neck that isn’t a scar but doesn’t tan. No one’s ever noticed it before because she was pretty good about staying inside when she lived on the Baratie but, now that she’s out adventuring on a much smaller ship, she finds herself basking in the sun more often and the mark is becoming more defined. She would be mortified to know it was there, especially since it doesn’t show up on the four other people who have similar marks because their skin cells are invulnerable to UV. (Inspired by @themetalhiro )

I love Sanji so so so so so so much. This design is like… 50% what I wish I looked like, 49% what I think is hot, and 1% forced-feminized transponder snail. I’ll have so much more to say about her characterization when I post the next version. Let me know your thoughts in the replies!!