#and IMMEDIATELY she was like oh okay! do you want to write down your order in my phone and i can go inside and order for us both

[bugmistake]

i love my mom ......

[plethorawrites]

Oh, I really, really like your recent blurb! Jason having a secret girlfriend/family is my favorite trope, but it is so hard to find!

Would you write about silly instances where Jason spots his family in public and tries to shuffle and guide you away without you noticing?

Ahh! I feel that validated in both my love of Jason and my love of the secret relationship trope! (This might not be exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway!)

The first time it happened was a few weeks into your relationship, back When the two of you would meet for breakfast or brunch at the little cafe, a few blocks away from where you worked.

Jason Todd would always show up, yawning and exhausted from how tired he always was since he hadn't told you about his night job yet. But he was still on time, excited to see you even if he would go straight home and nap immediately afterwards.

The two of you would always spend more time talking getting to know one another than actually looking over the menu and ordering something to eat, but neither of you minded.

Then, one day, while he was looking away from you to hide the smile you had caused, he caught sight of Tim waiting in line to order a coffee.

Without really thinking about it, he grabbed both of your menus, propping them up and leaning over the table, trying to hide both your faces.

You frowned in confusion but leaned in too, until your faces were close together. "What are you doing?" You whispered.

"Nothing," he lied poorly, being his head over the top of a menu to see if his brother was still there and darting his head back down when Tim walked past the table. He let out a breath of relief, staring at you. "You look really pretty this close."

With an amused eye roll you leaned back in your chair, folding your arms and waiting for a better explanation. "You just wanted to talk really close for a moment?"

"Okay, fine," he sighed heavily. "I wanted to look at your freckles, alright? They're adorable. The ones on your nose are really cute."

It wasn't a lie, technically. He did love them. And you actually believed him, he thought. Or if you didn't, you didn't push the topic.

The next time you accidentally ran into somebody was at the mall, when you had dragged Jason along to help you look for a dress for a mystery date night he said nothing about, except for the fact that you had to wear something nice.

It was just his luck that you had picked the same store Stephanie happened to be shopping in as well. In most circumstances, she might not even notice him when they crossed paths in public, but in a woman's clothing store which was relatively empty, there was no way she wouldn't see him when she turned around.

Without warning, he tugged you away from rack you were looking at, pulling you into a cramped dressing room, locking it behind you.

"Wha-" You stared at him like he had lost his mind. "Why are we the dressing room?"

"How do women try stuff on when they can't turn around?" He countered, ignoring your question and planting his hand on the wall by your head to try to give himself more room in the tight space.

"It's typically not made for two people," you explained "Especially not 6'2 men."

He grinned a bit. "Do you like my height?" He asked, enjoying the proximity a bit more than he would admit.

Yes. Obviously. Who wouldn't? He towered over you. His arms could wrap around your entire body without even straining to cover more skin. Plus, he could reach the top shelf so you didn't have to climb on a chair.

But it was still too early in the relationship to tell him that.

"That's besides the point," you muttered. " Why are we in the dressing room?" You repeated.

"I just...always wanted to see a woman's dressing room," he told you, frowning at his own lie.

"Seriously?" You questioned. "You could have at least picked the big one at the end. And you didn't even let me pick anything to try on."

"Right, well..I figured we could try a different store," Jason explained, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "Nothing here would do you justice."

You huffed, finding it slightly amusing how foolish he was acting. But frankly, it wasn't terribly bad to be stuck in a tight space with him. So, you waited a moment longer before unlocking the stall.

You still had to find a dress.

Things were peaceful for a bit, you and Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more serious. Jason seemed to be growing stronger in your relationship and things began to get a little bit more intense.

He knew that eventually he'd have to tell his family about you, but the next time he saw one of his brothers in public, he couldn't help but shy away from the task of introducing you.

In his defense, Damian really wasn't the first sibling you would want to meet.

He'd taken you to a nature preserve, because you said you used to go all the time as a kid but stopped after getting older.

You were practically giddy, feeding the animals from your palm, scrunching your nose when their whiskers ticked you. Jason was enjoying it too, more so because of you than the animals.

But while he was mocking you for your squeals, he heard a familiar voice having a one sided conversation with a lemur.

He turned and there was Damian, having his biweekly visit to see the animals that Father wouldn't let him bring home.

Jason cursed internally, pulling you away from the animals, accidentally spilling the feed from your hand.

"Hey, I stillwanted to see the—"

"I'll bring you back, I promise," he said, cutting you off as he dragged you behind a tree.

You wiped off your hand on your jeans and tilted your head. "What is it?"

"I just think you've been giving the animals too much attention," Jason noted. "I feel left out."

"Oh, c'mon," you rolled your eyes.

"Really," he insisted. "You kissed a sloth and a goat but not me."

He pouted a bit and leaned back against the tree, still holding you arm, though loosening his grip before running his hand up and down your arm apologetically.

You sighed, glancing around briefly, not really taking notice of the small, angry child, yelling at some poor worker, before leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his lips very quickly. "Satisfied?"

He smiled softly. "No." He shook his head, pointing to the exit. "Can we leave?" He asked gently.

"Will you bring me back?"

Jason nodded immediately. "Whenever you want," he said.

You gave up and left with him.

Now, if you really thought about it, you could easily put two and two together, but really, the instances were so far apart that you didn't really question the strange behavior.

He had managed to be, for the most part, pretty subtle about pulling you away from his family whenever he encountered them, as few and far between as those moments were.

Like the time you were walking down the street while it was raining and he spotted Duke crossing the street towards your direction. Even though he knew you loved the rain and hated umbrellas, he still pulled his jacket off, covering your head.

"Jay, I told you, I'm fine," you assured him, trying to move it off of you.

"Yeah, but you'll catch a cold," he insisted, pulling even further over your head while blatantly stealing an umbrella from a small stand that was selling them.

He popped it open, covering his own face as you walked past Duke.

"I will not," you told him, finally tugging it off. You frowned, not feeling any rain on your skin. "Where the hell did the umbrella come from?"

"Uh- someone handed it to me," Jason muttered. "Nice man."

And even though he despised running into people he knew because it always put him on high alert, trying to figure out what to do or where to go to keep whoever they ran into from spotting them, sometimes, he actually rather enjoyed the chance to pull you away from the rest of the world.

For instance, when you insisted on going to a carnival, which he wasn't a big fan of at first, until you guys got there and he saw your eyes twinkling at all the lights.

Any thoughts of boredom were quickly drowned out by the sound of your screams on the scarier rides, when you'd reach for his hand. And he bought every single treat you so much as looked at— the funnel cakes, the fresh lemonade, the Carmel corn.

He was watching you pull fresh cotton candy from the stick it was spun around when out of the corner of his eye he caught his brother Dick, along with Wally walking across the fair grounds.

Jason was sure they wouldn't notice you with how far away they were, but he refused to take the chance. So, he interlocked your hands, tugging you into a nearby photo booth as you made a sound of confusion.

"Just thought we should grab a souvenir," he said, beating you to the punch before you could ask what he was doing.

"I'm still eating my cotton candy," You told him. "I should fix my hair too."

Jason got a devilish glint in his eye and ran his hand through your hair jostling it further as you screeched in disbelief. "I think it looks good like that," he admitted, staring at you now that it had a bit more volume.

You blew a loose strand from your face. "I can't believe you did that," you stated. "It's all disheveled."

He nodded, still thinking it looked beautiful. Sort of like how it was when you woke up next to him.

"C'mon," he urged, pulling you into his lap. "I like you this way." He threw a few quarters in the slot and before you knew it you had a strip of three pictures, none of which were appropriate to show to anyone.

A picture of him stealing your cotton candy, a picture of him nuzzling your neck while you scrunched your nose in the way that made his heart clench, and a picture of him tasting said cotton candy on your tongue.

So, maybe it was an over reaction to pull you away from the rest of his carnival when it was huge and chances were Dick never would have even seen you. But God, did he enjoy it.

Then, there were, of course, the far less subtle times which didn't end quite as well.

Like when you just so happened to be walking out of a movie at the same time Cassandra and Barbara were heading into one.

"I think the sequel might actually be better than the original," you told him, arms interlinked as you walked.

"Uh huh," he wasn't paying attention anymore after seeing his sister and Babs at the soda machine, filling up their drinks.

He couldn't exactly pull you into a different theater, especially since he didn't know which one they would be going into.

The next best option? Throwing the empty popcorn bucket over your head.

"Jay?!" You exclaimed.

"It's a discount thing," he muttered vaguely, grimacing at his own excuse. "Wear the bucket out and you get a free movie."

Okay, not the next best, probably. Maybe like...sixth best? Seventh at most.

He pulled you past them, keeping his hand on the top of the bucket to keep it in place while raising his hoodie and keeping on the 3D glasses from the movie until you were past them both.

Once you were, he pulled it off and you were...well, fuming. Rightfully so.

"What the hell was that?" You asked, a bit bitterly, not buying his excuse for a second. "I'm covered in popcorn butter.

He cleared his throat, kissing your greasy cheek and licking his lips tasting a salty popcorn and butter on your skin. "Tastes good, though," he mumbled.

You stormed out on him.

And then, when you chose to walk all the way back to your apartment in frustration, both with his actions and lies, he finally came clean.

"I just... don't want my family to mess anything up between us," he confessed, barely even looking at you.

Vulnerability wasn't his strongest asset, but he was trying. For you.

You washed your face off in the sink for the third time and still felt greasy. Even if you got it all off your face, you'd need a shower to get it out of your hair.

"Why couldn't you just tell me that?" You asked, still confused. It wasn't like you didn't already know who his family was.

"I just- I didn't want you to think I was hiding you," he muttered.

"Jason, you put a bowl of popcorn over my head so your sister wouldn't see me. That's hiding," you stated firmly.

"Yes but it's not hiding out of embarrassment!" He clarified. "My family can be a lot to handle and they might scare you off and they'd definitely mock me endlessly for being in love with you."

His eyes went wide. That...was an accident. He didn't mean to confess that.

You stared at him for a moment, blinking. "Did you just say what I think you did?"

"I uh- well that wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "Yeah," he finally agreed with a slight nod. "But you don't have to say it back or anything, I know I'm not the easiest person to love and it—"

You were already kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He was caught off guard, but it didn't take him long before he kissed you back, his hands finding your waist and steadying you both.

"You're stupidly easy to love," you told him, resting your forehead on his.

(+Bonus)

It was a quiet Friday night when the two of you were at a nice restaurant, celebrating a year of being together. The food was good, the music was soft and nice, and Jason was practically a drooling mess over you, like usual.

So much so, he didn't even notice when his father walked into the restaurant with a date of his own.

You did, though. And in keeping with the spirit of what had apparently been a pretty large part of your relationship, even without you knowing it, you slid out of the booth quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him from his chair.

"Hey, wait a second!" He exclaimed as you rushed him out of the restaurant before he got to finish his dessert. "We still have to pay."

"We'll come back tomorrow and pay," you assured him, pushing open the door, into the cold evening.

"What the hell was that about?" Jason asked once you were outside and seemingly slowed down.

You pointed towards the window. "Your dad," you muttered.

He could see Bruce sitting at a table across from Selina, his eyes scanning a menu while occasionally looking up, probably to compliment her or something.

He huffed. "Add that restaurant to the list of places we can't go," he mumbled, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. "It got cold outside," he simply said when you frowned in confusion.

You pulled on the nice jacket that matched his suit. "Thanks," you said, wrapping your arm around his, tugging him away from the restaurant. "C'mon, I'll buy some more dessert."

He hummed, and pressed a kiss against your head. "Alright," he agreed, letting you lead him away from the restaurant and down the street.

[tibby-art]

hitman au save me .. its been seven years ..

haven’t been able to draw/write much of this au lately but i want to write a few little scene snippets i have stored my brain :’D ill include them under cut

=+=

“This better be something good,” Scar muttered to Cub as they stepped out of the elevator. The hitman, while bound to his contract, considered ‘boring’ missions to be a waste of his time.

“I hope so,” Cub hummed. “Hope so.”

The ConVex swung open the doors to the NHO conference room, not bothering to check if their bosses were actually ready for their meeting.

“Holy mother of—! Knock next time, will you?” A man setting files down on the conference table jumped visibly as the doors slammed open.

“The Vex require a dramatic entrance, Beef,” Scar said casually. Cub snickered.

“Sure, whatever.” Beef furrowed his brow, used to this behavior. He didn’t have time for this. “Okay. Doc was supposed to do this briefing, but he’s busy with his machines I guess, because of course he is, so.” He huffed, composing himself. “Your new top-secret project. This one’s a doozy. Have a look.”

Beef slid the folder across the table. The hitmen flipped it open, absorbing its contents with hungry eyes.

What caught their eyes immediately were the photos. The person of interest looked nothing like a powerful crime boss or a dangerous anomaly. A young adult with glasses, dark eyes and short, sandy brown hair stared back at them.

“Who’s this?” Scar raised an eyebrow. Is the NHO asking them to assassinate some normal-looking university student?

“That is Grian,” Beef explained, both hands planted firmly on the table. “Grian has been with us at the NHO for months.”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Scar remarked.

“Grian’s case is top-secret. He’s been staying in high-security, private quarters… as well as our research laboratories.”

“I thought you guys seemed super suspicious lately! I knew they were hiding something from us, Cub,” Scar nudged his partner with a grin. Cub did not budge as his sharp eyes combed through the documents. He hadn’t heard a single word spoken to him.

“Cub? What’s the deal?” Scar asked. He preferred to let Cub read their mission files and summarize it for him, anyways. Dyslexia and top-secret government files were not a great mix. Oh, what would he do without Cub?

“Watchers?” Cub finally spoke, looking up at Beef with a quizzical frown. The other man nodded slowly. “You’re kidding.”

“After months of testing and analysis, we can confirm that this individual is the only currently documented case of a mortal possessing Watcher abilities,” Beef nodded slowly.

Scar had heard whispers of the Watchers only a handful of times. As a vex, he knew plenty about the realm of magic, the divine, the fae, you name it! But Watchers were said to be ancient entities, perhaps as old as time itself. So old that they were widely considered to be a myth.

“So this is not a hit,” Scar said after a moment.

“This is not a hit, Scar, good lord, do not kill this person,” Beef put both hands on his forehead and let them slowly drag down his face.

“Mortal, you say?” Cub raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Beef said. “She was a completely normal citizen until he got these abilities in some freak accident. Lucky for everyone involved, the NHO was able to take control of the situation before anything… dangerous happened.”

“So,” Scar narrowed his eyes slightly, “If this isn’t a hit, then what do you want from us?”

Beef sighed. “After months of testing to determine Grian’s situation, the NHO has decided that he is too important to return to life as a normal citizen at this time. Instead, we’d like to utilize his abilities in our goals to maintain order in Hermit City, and we need someone to train her how to be a special agent in the field.”

“You want the ConVex to train a Watcher how to be a hitman,” Cub said with a slight smirk at just how insane that sounded.

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Scar put both hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting.”

“I suppose we could give it a shot,” Cub said. Although the ConVex were bound by a fae contract to work for the NHO, the vex took every opportunity to feign control over their situation. There was no choice here. Beef had given them an order.

“Sure, sure! We are very good at our jobs, after all,” Scar grinned. Whatever happened, good or bad, would at least be entertaining, surely.

“You’ll come back here to meet her tomorrow morning,” Beef instructed. “Hand me that file back and be here by 9, will you?”

“Sure thing,” Cub replied coolly, sliding the file back to the man. Scar couldn’t help but grin wider when he noticed Cub’s hand casually in his pants pocket, some folded white paper barely visible in his grip.

“Don’t be late. I’m serious this time,” Beef called out as the hitmen turned and exited the conference room.

=+=

The conference room was tense that morning. Towards the end of the table sat the NHO - Beef, Doc, Etho, and Bdubs. On one side sat Cub and Scar. Across from them, Grian sat alone.

“So, how about introductions?” Doc clapped his hands together. “Er… Cub and Scar, this is Grian. Grian, this is Cub and Scar. You guys already know the deal. Grian is going to come with you on missions from now on.”

The ConVex hadn’t taken their eyes off of Grian since they entered the room, unable to resist their curiosity. They had both read the files, but still found it hard to believe the person before them was a Watcher. Grian sat rigid in his chair, fiddling with his hands, looking tense and exhausted. She eyed the vex curiously as well.

“Well hello there,” Scar greeted. “I’m Scar, and this is Cub.”

“Hey, hey,” Cub said quietly.

“Hello,” The corner of Grian’s mouth twitched in a possible attempt at a smile.

The three continued to stare at each other until Bdubs cleared his throat.

“Wonderful introduction. Now that we’ve broken the ice, let’s talk about your next mission.” The man picked up a small remote, and the large screen on the wall behind them illuminated.

“Before we send our agents out into the field, we meet like this to discuss the details and ensure that the mission is clearly understood,” Doc explained to Grian, throwing a disapproving glare in the ConVex’s direction.

A lengthy file on some high-profile criminal appeared on the screen, as Bdubs proceeded to read off the information. Scar slumped back in his chair. These mission briefings were the worst. It was time to zone out and have Cub tell him the details later with all the fluff cut out.

At about ten minutes in, Scar yawned absentmindedly.

“Oh, are we boring you, sir?” Doc interrupted Bdubs to shoot a piercing stare at Scar.

“Oh, not at all!” Scar said cheerfully, but slumping in his chair slightly lower.

“As I was saying,” Bdubs continued loudly.

Scar glanced over at Grian. Her eyes quickly darted back to the presentation when they made eye contact. Scar looked over at Cub and found he had still not taken his eyes off of Grian. Hopefully Cub was at least somewhat paying attention, because he sure wasn’t.

Grian continued to fidget with his hands. Scar felt a pang of pity for him. The vex were used to this sort of environment, but according to the NHO, Grian had a completely normal life up until a few months ago. Now suddenly, he gains these terrifying powers and spends months in a top-secret lab having tests run on her all day. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed?

Scar yawned again, this time more intentionally. He earned another death glare from Doc, but Bdubs droned on. He glanced over and saw Grian rubbing a hand on his cheek to help hide a grin.

The art of annoying your boss was a delicate one. Timing is everything. Let enough time pass until they’ve forgotten, or they think you’ve stopped, to continue the game. Scar lets about ten minutes pass before his next yawn, bigger this time.

“Quit it,” Beef hissed. Even Etho glanced over. Doc kept his eyes on the screen, but his jaw was clenched. Grian let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Five minutes later, Cub clears his throat rather loudly. Bdubs stutters over his words for a second, but because Cub is Cub, none of the NHO seems to be able to tell if that was a deliberate cough or not, and they decide to ignore it. Cub shows no emotion.

After an hour that felt like an eternity of Bdubs explaining every possible detail about the case, it seemed to be almost concluded. That was, until a rather loud yawn was heard throughout the conference room.

“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH, FOR GOODNESS SAKE?!” Bdubs finally erupted, whipping around in his chair to face Cub and Scar.

The hitmen stared back blankly. They glanced over across the table, and Bdubs followed their gaze, where Grian sat with both arms over her head in a large stretch.

“Sorry,” Grian said simply when all eyes were on him, lowering his arms. “Just had to stretch a bit.” He stared back at Bdubs innocently.

The NHO stood there, confused. Bdubs was at a loss for words, unable to get a read on the new recruit. He sighed and turned back to the screen. “Well, regardless, I think we’ve about summed things up,” he grumbled.

Scar made eye contact with Grian once again. The two cracked a smile at one another for a second, too quick for the NHO to notice.

Scar had a feeling that him, Cub and Grian were going to get along just fine.

=+=

[pathologicalreid]

Okay before i say my request can i be your 🐚 anon ??? that's all i ask in terms of that BUT:

hear me out- so spencer reid x bau!fem!sunshine!reader gets kidnapped outside of work and her kidnapper tortures her and the works, but the worst part is he has a live feed directed for the bau so they just have to watch the poor girl get borderline killed but she's still fighting back and so eventually he turns the feed off and they go to the unsub once they find his location but before they burst the door down they hear the reader like genuinely begging for him to just kill her and it's GUT WRENCHING. then they get him and she free and she's immediately back to her bubbly self until randomly she like shows up at his door and spence tells her it's okay to not be okay and she just breaks down RAGHHHH

i'm so sorry for writing you an essay but I got the idea and simply couldn't let it go to waste 😭

-🐚 (i hope if that's okay with you???)

epiphany | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst; re: hurt/comfort content warnings: bau!reader, sunshine!reader, kidnapping, violence against reader, reader begging for it to be over, gun violence, general cm violence, exhaustion, hospitals, poor coping mechanisms and unhelpful therapists. word count: 2.92k a/n: of course you can be my 🐚 anon! this is a story in four parts, before, during, after, and epiphany! i hope you enjoy it <3 thank you SO much for requesting!

epiphany - a moment of sudden revelation or insight.

before

The horrified look on Garcia’s face couldn’t possibly be a good sign, “Uh, sir,” she addressed Hotch, “I’m being sent an encrypted link from an admin on the UnSub’s site.”

Responding with a stiff nod, Hotch looked toward the screen in the roundtable room, “Open it.”

Each team member had an instant reaction to the image projected onto the large screen. JJ had covered her mouth with her hands, Morgan had to peel his eyes away from the screen, and Spencer couldn’t get himself to do the same thing. Despite his better judgment, he kept his eyes on the screen.

“He’s killing her,” Emily observed, watching with a horrified expression as the UnSub hand his hands around your throat. You were dangling from the ceiling by your bound hands, leaving you flailing as your body begged for air.

Hotch leaned intensely over Garcia’s shoulder, “Is this live?” He asked, voice raising ever so slightly as he watched the tech analyst’s fingers work nimbly across her keyboard. As she nodded, he continued, “Can you find where he’s streaming this from?”

Parting her lips, a determined look settled on the blonde’s face as she continued to type, “It looks like he’s running it through a boatload of different proxies – it’s gonna take me a minute.”

Rossi shook his head, leaning over the roundtable, “She might not have that long.” It was the truth, a harsh truth, but the truth, nonetheless.

It had been one minute and thirty-seven seconds already, brain death would occur after four minutes, maybe five if you were lucky. Spencer didn’t want to have to take that chance. “Oh god,” Penelope cried, working through the tears that had started to stream down her face, “Okay, she’s in this general area.”

“Keep going,” Hotch ordered succinctly. “Everyone else, look at the picture. Is anything recognizable about the background?”

The lighting was dim at best, which didn’t leave the team with a lot to work with while they studied your surroundings. At one point, your attacker shouted, and Spencer’s attention moved back to you.

In the midst of your struggle, you had managed to strike him between the legs, sending him stumbling away from you, shouting expletives as space was put between the two of you. The BAU took a collective breath as they listened to you breathe, spluttering as the UnSub regained his composure. “Do you see that? The ridges in the wall?” Derek said, using his index finger to point to what he was talking about.

“It looks like a storage container,” Emily replied, furrowing her brows as she comprehended what Morgan was talking about.

Wholly focused on you, Spencer watched as the UnSub got in your face, screaming horrible words at you until you spit in his face. He swung at you, causing your face to turn with a nauseating smack until your head lolled forward and you stopped moving.

Still typing, Penelope spoke up, “Got it! Sending the address to your phones now.”

during

There was a maze of storage containers at the port, and so far, you had turned up in none of them. “Shh, wait,” Emily hissed, “Do you guys hear that?” She asked, looking over each of her shoulders, ears perked up like a bloodhound.

Straining his ears, Spencer straightened up, lowering his firearm as he focused on listening to the world around him, waiting for whatever Emily was talking about.

“Just fucking do it!” Your voice reverberated off of the surface of the numerous shipping containers. Spencer found himself torn as he knew you were alive but recognized the fear and anger in your voice. The pain as you screamed nearly stopped him in his tracks, but he found himself trudging forward.

Following closely behind Morgan, they stopped for a moment, trying to determine which direction you would be found in. Your shouts rang out into the pitch black of the night, “Stop being a coward and pull the fucking trigger!”

His steps faltered, leaving JJ stumbling into his back. “Reid,” she whispered, prompting him to shake himself out of his surprised state and continue moving. You didn’t know what you were saying, he tried to convince himself.

You couldn’t see the camera the same way he had seen it so many years ago, kidnapped and drugged against his will and hoping the team would understand the clues disguised as conversation. He had been taken from an UnSub’s property, and your apartment had been broken into – the only thing taken had been you.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar fear in the BAU, worrying about an UnSub breaking into your home, but you weren’t targeted because of your work in the bureau. You had been targeted because you fit the victim pattern.

If he never had to see the word “missing” under your face again, it would be too soon.

“Please,” you begged. “Please just kill me. Just let me die. I don’t want to do it anymore,” your voice started to grow quieter, but the team could still hear you – they were getting closer.

Emily and Morgan went to one side of the doors, leaving Spencer and JJ on the other side – Rossi and Hotch were elsewhere on the property, waiting with first responders and calling the shots via comms.

A small whimper came from the container at the same time as the click of a gun cocking. “Just pull it,” you pleaded weakly. “It’ll be so easy for you. It’ll be so much easier with me dead,” you informed him despondently.

“FBI!” Morgan called out, pulling the heavy metal doors of the container open, revealing the four FBI agents with their vests on, guns raised.

Just like it had happened in an action film, Spencer watched as the UnSub moved his hand to the trigger of his weapon. Your eyes were closed, tears streaming through the dirt that was caked on your face. Without a second thought, Spencer pulled the trigger on his firearm, sending a bullet through the UnSub’s temple before he could have the chance to kill you.

Emily went over to the body, gingerly picking up the weapon and disengaging it while looking over to you. Spencer was knelt in front of you, debating whether or not he should touch you before he decided on speaking to you first, “Y/N?” His voice was no more than a whisper as he expected your eyes to open, but they didn’t.

“His pocket,” you rasped, your traumatized vocal cords straining on every word.

Spencer hummed, “What about them, love?” He kept his voice gentle, watching you as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Sniffling, you hung your head low, “Keys,” you mumbled helplessly, unable to speak more than you already were, each word only drained you of energy you didn’t have in the first place.

Understanding, JJ crouched next to the stiff body of the UnSub and fished a keyring out of his pants pocket, handing them to Spencer.

With shaky hands, the third key unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists, and your body slumped forward, practically falling into Spencer as he tenderly wrapped his arms around your torso, “I’ve got you,” he reassured you.

It wasn’t until you were sat in the back of an ambulance that anyone got a good look at you. There was a fine layer of grime coating your skin, causing it to look at least one shade darker than it normally was, but what concerned Spencer the most was the petechiae of your eyes. The burst blood vessels were a direct result of his hands around your throat.

The paramedics looked over you despite your protests. It was non-negotiable, and that instruction came from Hotch. The strangest part of it was that you were continuously trying to wave off concern, insisting you were fine, kicking your legs off the edge of the rig while the female paramedic looked at the bruising on your cheek. “It might be a fractured ZMA, she’ll need a CT to confirm,” she continued to list even more ailments, including potential internal bleeding and extensive damage to your throat. The swelling in your neck was beginning to catch up with you, affecting your ability to talk.

Spencer rode with you in the ambulance, holding your hand while you told him, “I knew you’d find me. I never gave up.”

I don’t want to do it anymore, your pleas for the UnSub to end your life rang in his head, he’d never forget hearing you say that, and you didn’t even know he heard you.

He didn’t have any good answers for anyone while you were getting a CT. By the time you returned from surgery to repair your fractured cheekbone, he shut the door to your room, sequestering the two of you into your own little world.

The bruising around your neck had already begun to darken, and by this time tomorrow, your throat would likely be a sickening reflection of what had happened to you. Your doctor had elected to leave you intubated because they were afraid of the swelling affecting your ability to breathe.

There was nothing for him to do, nothing except sit at your bedside and hold your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb across your bloodied knuckles.

after

You were skipping - well, maybe the step pattern wasn’t technically a skip.

Spencer watched as you waltzed into the bullpen with far too much pep in your step. “I didn’t know you were coming back today,” Morgan said, being the first to greet you once you passed through the glass doors.

Waving a hand in the air, you shrugged, “I have to pass a final psych eval with Hotch, but then I’m all set to be back next week.” You were grinning as you embraced your friend, but over your shoulder, Derek sent Spencer an inquiring look. Asking a silent question that Spencer himself didn’t even know the answer to.

What was going on with you? Four weeks ago, you had been struggling to stand after being beaten within an inch of your life, and ever since, you had been nothing but smiles.

Before you could settle into the hug, you pulled away, placing your hands on Derek’s shoulders, and holding him at arm’s length. Approximately the same distance you had kept Spencer at for the past month.

As you passed behind Spencer’s desk, you left a featherlight touch on the top of his head before continuing your way up to Hotch’s office, smiling as you passed the roundtable room. The same room where the team had watched your torture as it was live-streamed to them.

“Is she..?” Emily started to ask the question on everyone’s minds, but the major issue was that no one quite knew what the question was. Had you finally cracked? Were you okay? He wasn’t sure, and it was starting to eat at him.

The only thing they could do was watch as you greeted Hotch with a chirp, entering his office and firmly closing the door behind you.

epiphany

The knock on his door was the first thing to pull his attention away from his book since he got home from Quantico. Looking down at the inside of his wrist, he frowned at the time – just past midnight.

Still, he peeled himself up off of the couch before making his way to the front door, peering out of the peephole just to see you on the other side.

Slowly, Spencer set the book on his entryway table and undid the lock and deadbolt to his apartment, swinging the heavy wooden door open to reveal his girlfriend. You were donning flannel pajama pants, not unlike the ones he had on, and an old college t-shirt. There was a crumpled-up piece of paper in your hand, but he couldn’t make out any of the words on it.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, the question slipping easily off his tongue. He didn’t wait for the answer, ushering you inside his apartment and toward the couch. He redid the locks on the front door before joining you on the supple leather.

You furrowed your brows, staring at the piece of paper in your lap, “I failed.”

Leaning over your shoulder curiously, Spencer looked at the piece of paper, quickly recognizing it as your psychological evaluation. He read over what he could see, noting the words “deflection” and “coping mechanism.”

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he observed aloud. You must’ve been wearing makeup this morning when you came to the BAU because now he could see the clearly defined dark circles under your eyes. He hadn’t seen you much over the past month, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. Spencer had spent many days sitting outside of your apartment, waiting for you to let him in. He didn’t dare use his spare key, it felt like an invasion of your privacy.

Turning to meet his eyes, you shrugged helplessly, “I haven’t been tired. I mean – I’m… I’m fine.”

Nodding gently, “That’s a deflection. You’re telling me that you’re fine when I can clearly see that you aren’t.”

Your lips parted in apprehension while he read you like an open book. “I’m exhausted,” you admitted, tearing little pieces off of your evaluation form as you grew anxious. “I get into bed, and I can’t sleep, I can’t convince myself to close my eyes,” you elaborated, watching as Spencer reached out and took the paper from you, setting it on the coffee table.

“Have you talked to anyone?” Spencer asked, tentatively taking your hand in his.

Humming, you leaned back on the couch cushions, “Like my mandated FBI therapist? No, I don’t really talk to him much. I’ve started pretending we’re having a staring contest. I usually win, but that’s probably because he has no idea that we’re playing.”

Raising his eyebrows, Spencer inclined his head toward you, “You’re doing it again.”

You clamped your lips shut, shifting on the couch so that you could withdraw your hand from his and sit on your hands. “I don’t do this very well, huh? Talking about the bad stuff,” you murmured to Spencer, looking over at him. “I hate the bad stuff,” you informed him.

“But we have to talk about it eventually, sweetheart. You can’t keep all of that inside,” he told you, moving over on the couch, closer to where you were seated.

Shaking your head, you pulled your knees up to your chest, and Spencer recognized that you were trying to make yourself seem as small as possible. The UnSub had made you feel small – another reason that Spencer had to hate him. “I wish I was her again,” you whispered, a tinge of fear entering your voice.

“You want to be who again?”

Looking over at Spencer, you sighed, “The me that I was before. I want to feel good and happy and perfect and free,” you spoke earnestly.  

He gave you an understanding smile, pulling at your hands so that he could hold them in his own, “Nobody expects you to be perfect right now.”

You closed your eyes, “but I want to be her again.” Small tears started to stream down your cheeks while you mourned the previous version of yourself.

“I know,” Spencer reassured you. “I know you do, but if you can’t quite get to her, I’ll still be here for the you that you are now,” he said, welcoming you with open arms as you began to lean into him. “It wouldn’t have been easier,” he murmured into your hair.

Humming, you grew content in Spencer’s arms, the only place he had wanted you over the past month. “What wouldn’t have been easier?”

Ever so slightly, Spencer tightened his grip around you, “If you had died. It wouldn’t have been easier for anyone. I know it felt like that at the time-“

“You heard that?” You asked, horrified at the thought of Spencer and everyone else hearing what you had thought were your last words.

Nodding, Spencer hummed a confirmation. “I can’t stop thinking about it, and I just needed to tell you that I understand. I don’t want you to feel guilty about what you said, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to regret it. You needed a way out, and that was the one you saw,” he told you.

You were silent for an eerie amount of time, without being able to see your face, Spencer was afraid that he had misread the entire situation. “Thank you,” you whispered, straightening up and looking over at him, bleary eyes meeting his. “I’m just… thank you,” you whispered reaching out for him, embracing him as your tears sept through the fabric of his t-shirt.

The both of you stayed like that for a while, your body was tucked into his side as his fingers lazily trailed up and down your back. “Did you want to try to get some sleep?”

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest, “Can I stay here?”

Frowning, Spencer cocked his head to the side, “Yes, isn’t that what I just asked?” Maybe it was more of an implication, but he felt it was fairly straightforward.

“I mean, can I stay here for a while? Maybe for a couple of days?” You asked, pressing your lips together nervously.

Moving his head forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “You can stay here for as long as you want to.”

[serqphites]

been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again

16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass

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do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.

"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?

she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!

she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)

laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.

this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them

i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!

you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)

not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.

abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)

abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.

abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?

even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO

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a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3

[gtgbabie0]

Hii, I love your righting! Could you write Vi working out in her & readers shared apartment, she’s doing pushups and reader says “hold on, move your arm” and slides on the floor to be under Vi.

Then reader is like “continue” whilst Vi is grinning, she starts doing pushups again and reader keeps kissing her when she presses down. Then she goes “okay now hold it as a plank” and Vi is confused but does so and reader unexpectedly starts making out with Vi. And Vi is all flustered struggling to hold this plank but happy to make out and then after telling reader this is not an efficient way to work out and reader is all pouty like “so you’d rather I wasn’t under you?”. Lots of fluff, flirting, being flustered maybe a little tension, thank you!!

⋆⁺ ✮⋆⁺ Vi x Reader

Synopsis: {You interrupt your girlfriend’s workout routine in the best way possible} AN: Hehe love this!! Enjoyyy! ✮Masterlist is here <3

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Vi had been sick all week with a horrid headache, which left her practically immobilised in bed, sleeping like a ‘sick Victorian child’—as you had ever so kindly put it���multiple times despite her protests. You would give it a couple of weeks before showing her the photos you snapped of her while she snored away.

Within those weeks she couldn’t get her gym sessions in— it would have probably killed her if she tried, okay maybe slightly dramatic, but Vi would disagree. To be completely honest she still isn’t feeling very up to par so that’s why she currently doing push-ups in your shared living room because she needs to 'keep her figure in order.'

It was quite a show really, how her tank top fits snugly against her chest— not to mention her muscles, god her muscles, the way her biceps flex and strain with each push. You couldn’t help but stare and tease, just a little.

“It’s been three days babe and you’re already struggling at twenty?” You smirk from your place where you’ve snuggled yourself up in the corner of the ‘L’ shaped couch, watching her oh so intently instead of reading your book that was sitting in your lap.

She shoots you a playful glare, pretty blue eyes narrowing slightly. The absolute cheek of you. “Yeah? You wanna come down here and give me twenty right now?”

You shake your head, sinking back into the cushions with a sheepish giggle. “No, I definitely don’t.”

“Exactly, so keep that pretty nose of yours stuffed in that dumb book.” Oh, she's done it now. You immediately, so stubbornly, stand up from the comfort of your little nook and make your way over to her with a small pout, arms crossed and everything.

Violet sits back on her haunches, grinning proudly at how easy it was for her to get under your skin— her eyes fixed on the way you purse your lips out in melodramatic annoyance.

“Now what are you doing?” She huffs in amusement.

“I decided I wanna help.”

“This doesn’t look like helping… at all.”

She was right, you wiggling yourself beneath her didn’t exactly make her want to work out— well maybe just in a different way.

“Hush— now continue.” The sass in your tone makes her scoff playfully, shaking her head as you all but stare up at her with an expectant look. Vi’s backbone was practically nonexistent when it came to you, you asked, or well in this case demanded, and she did, simple as that��� so she leans over you, big hands planted firmly on the ground on either side of your head.

Vi lowers herself down slightly, elbows bending with her movement as she flashes you a smirk, canines peaking out— blue eyes gleaming. “Hey.” she chuckles. You wipe the stupidly hot grin from her lips, meeting her halfway to give her a big kiss, propped up slightly by your forearms.

Her breath catches and she lets out a stuttering sound, her arms faltering to keep her up at the sudden affection— god it was almost as if you wanted to give her a damn heart attack, those pretty lips of yours stretched out into a smug grin of your own.

“Alright, fine.” Vi was competitive, hence why you always try to cheat on game nights. That spark was lit now, there was no going back so she gladly accepted this silent challenge you’ve offered her.

With each push-up she does you give her a big, wet kiss, lips smushing together softly and sometimes not so softly— nipping at her bottom to which she groans in response, pushing her toned body down against you just a little firmer to capture those pretty breathless sounds that escape your kiss-plumed lips.

You huff, frowning. “Don’t be annoying.”

“Oh I’m being annoying?— do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?” She sighs in between kisses that only seem to get greedier, all exasperated. “S’payback babe.” her push-ups, if you could even call them that at this point, getting weaker.

Vi goes to sit back but your fingers catch her hand, curling around her wrist. “Nu-uh, you gotta do your planks, lazy.” God, you sounded just like a personal trainer, stern tone, knitted brows and everything— she wouldn’t mind that actually now that she’s thinking about it, especially if the sessions went like this.

“Lazy? you’re the one just lying there, well, nothing new I guess.” That one earns her a quick swat to the shoulder and she gasps, looking down at you with faux offence written all over her beautiful face.

“S-Shut up— just do your damn plank, chicken arms.”

Violet guffaws in disbelief, reluctantly lowering herself, her arms crossing just above your head as she holds the position— the muscles in her stomach tensing up as you brush your fingertips over her tank top, pushing the fabric up to feel her abs. God, she looks so good like this, broad shoulders shadowing over you, her jawline and the shape of her neck on show. You couldn’t help but touch!

“Oh, you’re asking to be—” she looks down at you, her words unceremoniously cut off as you tug her down into a kiss, making her collapse over you with a muffled “mmfhm!!” Your tongue runs along her bottom lip before slipping into her mouth and she doesn’t hesitate to lean in closer, impossibly closer, to deepen the already eager kiss.

“You’re not good at helping in the slightest, this isn’t efficient at all.” She murmurs against your lips as the kiss tapers off into small loving pecks, still greedy.

“So you’d rather I was sitting back on the couch? because I can—” You couldn’t get up even if you tried, her body was pinned on top of yours, her hips effectively sandwiching you between her toned form and the hardwood floor.

“Nope, no. You’re coming with me baby, after workout shower.” She chuckles lowly, trailing opened-mouthed kisses along the soft curve of your jaw ever so slowly before she hauls you up and carries you off into the bathroom. Best workout ever.

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[onlyhereforthestories]

Sing, Well, Try To Sing For You (Mapi Leon and Ingrid Engen x Reader)

Day 14. This is the first time I have tried writing a three person relationship. I hope you enjoy, can't believe there only 10 days left of this!

The snow had started falling just after sunset, a steady drift of large, soft flakes that blanketed the street outside and made the night feel like a scene from the snow globe you knew was sitting on your windowsill in the other room. Inside the warmth of Mapi and Ingrid’s cozy apartment, the three of you were settled in for a festive, low-key evening. A string of Christmas lights cast a gentle glow around the living room, where the three of you had a small Christmas tree set up, already half-buried in gifts you’d been excited to exchange.

You had yet to move in with your lovers having been in a relationship with them for a little over a year now. The two of them taking a liking to you the instant you joined Barcelona two seasons ago but taking a little while to work out their feeling and the logistics of said feelings for you. They had finally brought it up with you just before Christmas last year at the club you and the team had gone to in order to celebrate the holidays. Mapi and Ingrid had saved you from a weird man trying to grind on you on the dance floor and had confessed that they were more than just protective of you because you were a teammate. Luckily for all of you, you had felt the same way about the women just didn’t know how to approach a conversation around it.

This all lead you to the here and now, where Ingrid set down three mugs of steaming hot cocoa, each one topped with a mountain of whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon. “I think that’s the last of the whipped cream,” she said, her cheeks pink from a combination of the heat and the sight of you and Mapi curled up together on the sofa.

“Perfect, just in time,” Mapi said, grabbing her mug and settling herself back on the couch, patting the space on the other side of her. A gesture that made you pout a little in protest to not have the Norwegian sandwiching you between them. “Can’t do karaoke without fuel.”

You raised your eyebrows, your mind shifting away from the thought of being sandwiched by your lovers. “Karaoke? We didn’t exactly decide on that yet,” you teased, knowing full well Mapi had been hinting at it since earlier in the day.

Mapi shot you a playful grin, tossing a pillow your way only to be scolded by Ingrid about the steaming mug of cocoa you had in your hand and how that could end up in your lap burning you. “Oh, come on! It’s Christmas. What else are we going to do? Go stand outside in the snow?”

Ingrid laughed, snuggling close to Mapi and pulling the fluffy blanket over all three of you. “You’re both lucky. My usual Christmas karaoke partners have been my family back home and trust me, my dad’s version of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ is something no one should have to hear.” There was a small grimace on her face as she spoke, a testament to how bad it really must be.

You snorted, imagining Ingrid’s typically reserved dad belting out the holiday classic, and leaned in to make your pitch. “Okay, okay, I’ll give it a try,” you said. “But don’t expect any Grammy-winning vocals. I am no Adele.”

Mapi grinned, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Oh, we’re definitely expecting something memorable.”

Grabbing her phone, she queued up a playlist of Christmas karaoke songs, and before you could change your mind, the familiar opening notes of All I Want for Christmas Is You began to play. Mapi shot up, hand outstretched in your direction like a microphone, her eyes daring you.

“You’re first,” she said, bouncing slightly with excitement. She had been waiting to rope you into her singing antics for the last week or so, knowing full well Ingrid would only get involved if you did. The Norwegian was powerless to saying no to the both of you together.

Giggling, you took an exaggerated breath and launched into the first verse, immediately straying off-key. You were painfully aware of how shaky your voice was, but a quick look at Mapi and Ingrid’s laughing faces only spurred you on. You poured your heart into each word, completely butchering the notes, throwing in an extra dramatic flair as you went. Your hands were thrown out left and right and you even tipped your head right back when you were trying, and failing, to hit the higher and longer notes.

Ingrid was beside herself with laughter, her face buried in her hands, while Mapi watched in wide-eyed delight. By the time you hit the chorus, you were practically yelling, arms outstretched as if you were performing for a sold-out arena.

Bagheera was sleeping peacefully on the arm next to Ingrid when you had all settled in, she was now sat up looking in your direction in as much disgust as a cat could display. As you started the chorus the cat had obviously had enough, meowing her distaste and jumping off the sofa before quickly heading for your open bedroom door. Mapi finally lost it, doubling over with laughter and clapping her hands. “I, dios mio, I can’t breathe,” she gasped, wiping tears from her eyes.

You shrugged, looking unbothered. “What? You were the one who asked for karaoke.”

Ingrid tried to contain herself, though she was still giggling. “I don’t think I’ve heard anyone commit that hard to singing a song that off-key before. You really went for it.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you warned, grabbing the imaginary mic and thrusting it toward her. “Now it’s your turn!”

She gave you a look of wide-eyed horror, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’m any better,” she protested, but with Mapi’s look of encouragement and pure eagerness, she finally took a breath and began singing along to Last Christmas.

To your surprise, Ingrid’s voice was soft and surprisingly melodic, though she was shy about hitting some of the higher notes. Mapi looked at her with a proud smile, nodding along to the beat, and you couldn’t help but join in, trying to match you tune with her, which was impossible for you. Eventually, you pulled Mapi in, and soon all three of you were singing at the top of your lungs, Ingrid’s occasional nervous giggles blending into her notes.

Mapi put her arm around both you and Ingrid as she danced and sang along, her loud and raspy voice making each note sound hilariously exaggerated. You watched her, laughing so hard you were practically doubled over, but she didn’t seem to mind. She was having a blast.

When the song ended, you were all out of breath and still chuckling. Mapi grabbed the imaginary microphone back and put on a low, dramatic voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, next up, I give you…” She made a drum roll with her hands, looking pointedly at you. “The Christmas Karaoke Champion!”

You groaned, already laughing again. “Mapi, I think you’re just saying that because I’m the worst singer here.”

“Not at all,” she replied, adopting a very serious expression. “In fact, you are by far the most memorable.”

She queued up Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and as soon as the song started, you began belting out the lyrics, sounding more like a drunk in a club than anything resembling the original tune. Mapi doubled over in laughter, thoroughly enjoying your enthusiasm, while Ingrid clapped along, nodding with an encouraging look directed your way.

When you finally reached the end of the song, you took and over the top bow, before thanking your fans like Elvis would have “Thank you, thank you very much!”

Ingrid was giggling as she took the “mic” from you, cueing up Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree. She and Mapi singing surprisingly well together. Mapi threw an arm around Ingrid’s shoulder, swaying her slightly with the beat, while Ingrid’s eyes sparkled as she playfully matched Mapi’s energy, swaying just as much as the shorter woman.

“Look at you two!” you teased. “A match made in karaoke heaven.”

Mapi shot you a grin, twirling Ingrid around. “All part of the show, love,” she said, before she dipped Ingrid in dramatic fashion causing the tall brunette to break out into a fit of giggles.

After a few more songs, the karaoke session began to morph into a full-on dance party. The three of you decided to abandon any attempts at singing and instead began grooving along to the holiday tunes blasting from the speakers. Mapi grabbed your hands, spinning you around the living room as Jingle Bell Rock played. She was a surprisingly good dancer, her movements loose and fun, her infectious energy impossible to resist.

Meanwhile, Ingrid took over with some light hearted dance moves, waving her arms and bouncing around with an enthusiasm that sent you into another round of laughter. Watching her, you couldn’t help but join in, mimicking her movements and earning a playful shove.

The three of you kept dancing until you were all out of breath, collapsing in a heap on the couch. Ingrid was on one side of you and Mapi the other, a blanket had been pulled over all your laps and your mugs had been abandoned on the coffee table.

“That,” Ingrid said with a sigh, “was the best workout I’ve had all season.”

Mapi smirked, nudging her with her elbow. “You think the team would be on board if we pitched holiday karaoke as part of training?”

Ingrid raised her eyebrows, considering it. “Maybe we just don’t mention the off-key singing part?”

You chuckled, nestling deeper into the warmth of the moment. “I think that might be an essential part of the experience.”

Mapi nodded in agreement, pulling you and Ingrid closer. “Agreed. No real karaoke session is complete without a little, what should we call it, personal flair.”

[potatoplace]

We Can Do This Together

Poly!Feysand x Reader

We Can Do This (part 1) | We Can Fix This (part 2)

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: As you near the end of your pregnancy, your doctor puts you on strict bed rest. Your doting partners make sure that you still get everything you want: your wedding, baby shower, and honeymoon.

Warnings: lots of pregnancy talk, labor (nothing graphic), light smut

Words: ~9.6k

Author's Note: AHHHHH I'm so excited to post this one!!! It is 100% fueled by how baby crazy I would be for Feysand, and also by just how damn CUTE it is (plus some unexpected spiciness, I did not plan on that lol). So enjoy it! I hope you all like this one.c I know I love it 🫶 p.s. this was supposed to be like... 3k long. This got uhhhhh a lil out of hand hehe 🤭 @icey--stars here's the extra part 💖

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Cold gel was smoothed over your massive bump as the doctor worked, one of your hands clutching at Feyre's as she did.

"Sorry, I know it's cold," Madja said as she got a better image, smiling softly down at you.

"It's okay..." you replied, craning your head to try and see the image. "Are they okay?"

Madja squinted at the screen for a moment, before raising a hand to the screen. "All three of the babies seem to be doing just fine, their heartbeats are strong and they're all doing well weight-wise. The main thing I'm concerned about-"

"Don't tell us the cord is wrapped around one of them or one of them doesn't have lungs or-" Rhys panicked, his eyes frantic as he looked at her. She fought back a smile, while you and Feyre both rolled your eyes.

"Neither of those are reality, Rhysand, I am simply worried about Y/N," Madja said with a pointed stare at you, her eyes serious. "Carrying three babies is no easy feat, especially with you still working and being 28 weeks along with triplets. And given that you came in after a fainting spell... I am recommending complete bed rest, and if you must leave the house, you need to be in a wheelchair whenever possible. And I'm going to prescribe some extra vitamins, just so we can keep the little girls inside as long as possible. Understood?" Madja asked you, and as much as you wanted to yell 'no' at the idea of bed rest... You wanted your babies healthier more.

"Okay..." you said poutily.

"We'll make sure she follows your orders, Madja," Feyre said, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

"Good! I'd also recommend massage to help with your circulation, the added benefit is that it will help with some of the aches and pains I'm sure you're feeling. Now, I'll go write those prescriptions, you three sit tight for another moment." Madja left the room, leaving you alone with your two fiancés.

You may not be able to get married in the traditional sense, but Feyre and Rhys had insisted upon a ceremony, as they wanted you to feel just as important in the relationship. You, of course, had agreed immediately, wanting nothing more than to be bound to the two in whatever way you could be. That, and the promise of a week long honeymoon of just the three of you would have been more than enough to convince you.

That had been before you discovered you were carrying triplets, though. You had to be the most fertile woman on the planet, to not only get pregnant after having sex with a condom, but for that to result in triplets. That exciting and terrifying appointment had been just a few weeks after you'd had that horrid haircut...

And now you certainly weren't getting your honeymoon, as it had been planned for three weeks from now, your wedding ceremony the day before you were to leave. With you on bed rest, their might not even be a ceremony at all...

Tears came to your eyes unbidden at the thought, and you tried to blink them away before either Feyre or Rhys saw them. But you were unsuccessful, only causing them to fall faster as disappointment swept over you.

"Oh, little love, what is it?" Rhys asked, one of his hands coming to cup your face and swipe away the tears with his thumb.

His gentle touch only spurred on more tears, a sob ripping through your chest. You covered your face with your hands, rubbing your palms into your eyes to try and stop the tears.

"Y/N, you need to tell us what's wrong so we can fix it, darling," Feyre said softly, her hand moving from your hand up to wrap around you, taking you into her arms as much as she could while you were on the exam table.

"I just- our- our wedding!" You cried, sobbing harder. "Our perfect honeymoon, and the ceremony and the baby shower!"

"Oh, love, we'll still have all of those," Rhys reassured you as he pried your hands off of your face. "The ceremony will be easy enough to do, you'll just need to sit as much as you can. We can do the baby shower at home, or even on the day of our wedding, and the honeymoon we can move to somewhere close by, a cottage by a lake, just the three of us, hmm?" Rhys asked as he cradled your face, keeping your eyes on him.

"See, little love? We can still have all of those things, you'll just be resting as much as possible. Okay?"

You stuck your lip out in a pout, which Rhys immediately caught between his thumb and forefinger.

"What do you say, baby? Will you let us take care of you?"

When he talked to you like that... Even with the hormones raging through you, you couldn't say no.

So you nodded your head.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

"I'm going crazy!" You complained from the couch as Feyre and Rhys bustled around the kitchen, delicious scents wafting over to where you had been banished to.

"You're not going crazy, Y/N, you're just bored!" Feyre called out. "Watch something or play a game, love!"

"But I'm tired of playing games and watching things," you whined, throwing the blanket off of your lap. Your bump made it harder and harder to get up without help, but you managed to push yourself off of the couch.

Over the past three weeks, you had moved into Rhys and Feyre's penthouse for good, your own personal effects now strewn across every room, and your clothes in their closet.

Getting to sleep with them every night had been heavenly, or as heavenly as sleeping at almost eight months pregnant with triplets could be. Their arms around you and soft touches helped lull you to sleep without fail, and waking up next to them and not leaving? Perfection.

The only problem? You'd been put on maternity leave at work! When you could very easily work from home on your laptop, but no. No. Your work had decided that you continuing to work with such a high risk pregnancy was a no-go, so now you were stuck in the loveliest apartment you had never been in, completely and totally bored.

You padded over to the kitchen, fluffy pink bunny slippers on your feet, this pair one that Feyre had gotten after you moved in. Your old slippers no longer fit your widened feet and ankles, and when you had cried over the fact, Feyre had run out and purchased three different pairs of slippers for you, all varying shades of adorable bunnies.

"What are you doing in here?" Rhys scolded, wrapping his arms around you when he turned around. "You're not supposed to be walking around, little love."

Feyre had turned around too, and both of their very mildly disappointed stares on you made you wish you hadn't gotten up. But still...

"I'm bored, I'm so tired of sitting on the couch or laying in bed," you whined into his chest, hands clutching at his shirt.

"There's only one more night that you're going to be this bored, darling, and that's tonight," Feyre said as she took the spot behind you, winding her arms around your middle and stroking your gigantic stomach.

"Because what's tomorrow?" She asked in your ear, sending a small shiver down your spine.

"Our wedding and baby shower," you answered, a big grin on your face as you thought about it.

"That's right, sweet girl," Feyre said, placing a kiss along your neck with every word. "Tomorrow we're getting married, and getting lots of cute gifts while we spend time with our friends, and then the day after?"

"The day after we're going to a lake cabin," you giggled, absolutely giddy at the idea. It wasn't the oceanside resort you had planned to go to, but it was nearly the same, just much closer. After all, the main thing you were excited for was spending every second of every day with your Feyre and your Rhys, celebrating the life you'd all started together eight months ago.

"That's right, Y/N, and you get us for one hundred and twenty uninterrupted hours," Rhys purred, sending a thrill to your core.

The one area you hadn't been bored in? Lovemaking. While Rhys had been too afraid to fuck you roughly, especially in the last three weeks, he and Feyre had made it their personal goal to find every other way there was to make you climax.

"Mm, and I can't wait," you said happily, craning your head to steal a kiss from him.

"Not fair," Feyre whined from behind you, even as she herself stole a kiss from Rhys. "I want one too." You twisted yourself in their arms, a grin on your face as you placed a kiss on Feyre's lips. "Good. Now that we've all gotten our smooches, you can go sit back down on the couch." You went to protest, but Feyre cut you off, "If you're a good girl and only walk when you have to tonight, you'll get a good night surprise from me."

A flush spread over your cheeks at the idea- Feyre's surprises were always the best. "I'll go sit down and be good, if you come with me. Let Rhys finish dinner."

"Hey, I want to come snuggle too," Rhys complained.

"But you're the better cook, Rhysie," Feyre said, already tugging you from his arms and over to the couch. "Besides, we need Y/N to eat soon, and if I stayed alone in the kitchen we'd have to order in!"

Rhys groaned but continued cooking, though you could tell he was doing it with a pout, even if you couldn't see it.

Feyre settled you into the couch, pulling your blue throw blanket that matched her eyes back onto your lap, but left your feet and lower legs uncovered.

"How have you ankles felt?" She asked as she settled down in front of you, grabbing the bottle of lotion that they kept nearby now.

"They've been fine," you said, a hint of a lie in your voice even as you tried to hide it. Feyre caught it, staring at you sternly. "Okay, fine, they've been sore and puffy..."

"That's what I thought, I think we need to start giving you massages twice a day now to keep your circulation going more," Feyre said gently as she started working the lotion into your skin, your head falling back onto the couch pillow. Feyre chuckled at your reaction. "Feel nice, baby?"

You managed to nod, but couldn't find it in yourself to speak. Before you'd been bored and restless, now you were just... tired. Calm. Especially with Feyre's hands on you.

You drifted off quickly, awoken by Rhys's deep laugh. "Did she fall asleep in the ten minutes it took me to finish dinner?"

"She did, I think she was just lonely," Feyre said gently, and you could still feel her hands massaging your ankles with such care.

"I was bored," you mumbled, still not fully awake.

Rhys laughed again, softer this time. "Of course you were, darling. Are you ready for dinner?" His hand stroked over your hair, his touch bringing you back to awareness.

"Dinner?" You asked sleepily, blinking to clear your eyes.

"That's right, dinner. You should eat something before you take your vitamins."

You made a face at the idea of vitamins, so many tiny little pills to swallow. But dinner...

"Dinner sounds good."

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Tears were pouring down your face as you stood in front of a floor length mirror, taking in how you looked.

"Oh, Y/N, don't cry! You look absolutely beautiful!" Emerie said, dabbing the tears off your face with a tissue.

"I know, I just-" you cried. "I just love them so much!"

"Oh, I know you do! Which is why you're getting married to them! So no more happy tears until you see them at the end of the aisle, hmm?"

You sniffled but nodded your head, doing your best to stop your tears as Emerie wiped the remaining ones from your already made up face. "Okay. I can try."

"Good. Now, does everything with your dress look right? And the veil? And your hair?"

You looked yourself over again, fighting back more tears- happy ones, thankfully, but tears nonetheless. Your soft, silk white dress had a Queen Anne neckline with cap sleeves and a flowing waistline that hung prettily over your bump, more flattering and pretty than you'd thought possible with how massive you were now. It met the floor, just barely dragging over it as you walked, and your feet were clad in comfortable ballet slippers, with an extra support stuffed inside that Feyre had insisted upon.

Your hair was lovely, having grown back out a bit, laying in soft curls and your bangs styled. Your veil was beautiful, attached to your head with a small tiara and flowing down to the backs of your knees, made of a delicate white lace.

"Everything is perfect," you breathed, fingering the necklace that Rhys and Feyre had gifted you four months ago, tiny starbursts of diamonds surrounding three square sapphires, one for each of your daughters.

Emerie smiled at you in the mirror, then began guiding you back to the couch against the wall of the dressing room. "Good, because you should be getting your cue to walk out any minute now!"

True enough, the moment after you sat down, Mor knocked on the dressing room door and opened it, peeking inside. "Oh good, you're ready, come along now!" She squealed, helping Emerie pull you back to your feet.

The two of them helped walk you to the double doors that separated you from your future. Emerie fluffed out the short train of your dress while Mor pulled the doors open, and the both of them stepped aside to let you pass through on your own.

The moment you saw them standing there, Rhys and Feyre, you thought you might faint.

Rhys looked fantastic in his fine black suit with silver stitching, his blue-black hair styled into the soft curls that you loved so much, a slight blush on his cheeks when he met your eyes across the hall, his signature smirk softened into something even lovelier. His dark purple tie brought a smile to your own lips, the dare that you and Feyre had made him take after teasing him about not only wearing black at the wedding.

And Feyre... Feyre took your breath away, her golden brown hair styled into pretty ringlets, her own veil carefully pinned onto the crown of her head. Her dress was beautiful, clinging to her curves before flowing out at her hips, with tiny spaghetti straps holding the bodice to her chest. A flush spread over her cheeks and chest when she looked at you, a smile taking up her whole face.

You finally remembered to start moving when Feyre wiggled her fingers at you, your face turning bright red as you slowly made your way down the aisle, giggling when you met Feyre and Rhys at the end, who both immediately wrapped an arm around you to help take the pressure off of your feet.

The ceremony flew by, with you hardly remembering a single word of what had been said, your mind more preoccupied with how loved and cherished the two people you were now bonded to made you feel.

Your first kiss married to the two of them was from Feyre, Rhys having muttered something like "Ladies first," to Feyre.

It was magical, getting to kiss your wife and husband, and Rhys had you giggling when he immediately scooped you into his arms, careful not to squish the babies. He carried you from the wedding hall to the attached reception hall, a large couch in the center of it with chairs, tables, and a few other, smaller couches set up as well. He gently set you onto the couch in the center before settling beside you, Feyre taking up the spot on your other side.

That was something he loved doing- literally sweeping you off of your feet whenever he had the chance, especially over the past three weeks. You didn't mind one bit, not when it meant snuggling into his chest while he carried you up a set of stairs, or being held the entire duration of the elevator ride when you could suck little marks on his neck, enjoying the pleasured hiss he would let out.

You let out a contented sigh as you leaned your head on Rhys, letting it sink in.

You're married.

Emerie quickly began taking charge of the festivities, ordering for the food to be set out and music to be played, even bossing Mor into dancing with her before they'd had a bite to eat.

Rhys had gone to get a plate for the three of you, coming back with it piled high with beef pot roast, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and green beans- it had been your idea after seeing the fancy displays the caterer had made, your stomach rolling at the sight even though you knew it would taste just fine.

The babies had had a different, less logical idea.

So pot roast it was, the other dishes suggestions from Feyre and Rhys.

Rhys took great pride in feeding both you and Feyre, only taking his own bites when the two of you decided to steal the fork from him and feed him yourselves. Rhys would steal back the fork and continue feeding you as much as you could handle, rubbing your back as you chewed each bite. Which of course only spurred you on to eat more, wanting more of his soft smiles and gentle touch.

You could only eat so much, though, before you collapsed back against the couch cushions, rubbing at your tummy and delighting in the little kicks that your hands were met with.

They were happy too.

The ceremony had been small, no more than 30 people that the three of you had trusted to share this experience with. Your own family had declined to attend, which had stung at first, before you realized that you had a new family, one that would support you unconditionally.

And that was all that you needed, all that your babies needed.

After an hour or so, Emerie decided that it was time to open presents- likely sensing the inevitable lag in your energy that would happen sooner or later.

Presents were piled around the couch you and your spouses were sat on, far too many in your opinion. But truly? You were touched that people wanted to spoil your babies so thoroughly, when they hadn't even arrived yet.

The combined wedding reception and baby shower went by quickly at first, but your energy began to lag after the second hour, your head resting against Feyre's shoulder between presents. After a while you stopped opening them, preferring to react sleepily while your partners tore apart wrapping paper and peeked into bags.

So many baby clothes, all of the outfits coming in three matching sets and each one getting you closer and closer to tears as you thought about your babies snuggled up in cute onesies, or in the little fox outfits that Lucien and Elain had gifted you.

You gained a small second wind after the cake was cut, strawberry with a lemon filling a pretty strawberry icing, your favorite since you had grown pregnant.

Feyre and Rhys had both offered you the first bite, which had made you laugh, both of them waving forks in front of your face to try and sway you to choose theirs. Instead, you directed Rhys's fork to Feyre, and Feyre's to Rhys, only taking a bite from each of them after they'd had their own.

Soon enough, though, you were out of energy again, dozing off against Rhys's shoulder while Feyre went to the restroom. He had you sit up for a moment which had made you grumble, before pulling you back against him after draping his suit jacket over your arms and back.

"Thank you, husband," you murmured against him.

"You're welcome, sweet wife," he cooed, placing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

The clicking of heels just barely alerted you to Feyre's presence before she spoke. "Awe, is she all tuckered out?"

Rhys chuckled quietly. "I think so, darling. Should we get her home?"

You mumbled against his chest.

"What was that?"

You sighed but moved your face away from him a bit. "We haven't danced yet," you whined.

"Oh, love, I don't know if-"

"Madja said I could dance to one song, maybe two if I rest for a bit between them. Please?" You begged, using your best puppy dog eyes on the two of them.

Feyre sighed, but you knew she was going to give in. "Alright, since Madja said it was okay. But if you get tired you need to tell us, yeah?"

You nodded. "Of course, my pretty wifey," you said, and shrugged off Rhys's jacket. Feyre's blush was delightful, and you let her and Rhys help you stand, immediately clinging to her once you were. "I really just want to sway with you..."

"We can sway," Feyre said, wrapping her arms around you.

"Can I join or are we doing separate dances?" Rhys asked cheekily from behind you, already winding his arms around both of you, sandwiching you between them.

Just how you loved to be.

"Dances together, of course," you insisted, squeezing one of his hands. "Everything together, I think." You rested your head on Feyre's shoulder, smiling when you heard the sound of their lips meeting.

This was right where you needed to be, for the rest of time.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The party had wound down early, with you falling asleep on Feyre's shoulder while she and Rhys talked to their close friends, their conversations garnering the occasional sleepy giggle from you when you managed to pay attention long enough.

Mostly, it was Cassian and Mor teasing Rhys about having two wives that were far prettier than he would ever be, and Rhys adamantly agreeing with it, to which Cassian and Mor would reiterate how he is not the prettiest person in his relationship. They were obviously trying to rile him up, but it seemed Rhys's overwhelming love for how you and Feyre look overrode any need of his to proclaim himself the most gorgeous person in the room.

It was only once you had drooled the tiniest bit on Feyre's shoulder that your husband and wife declared the festivities over, at least for the three of you. Rhys had scooped you into his arms once more, this time carrying you to the town car waiting to take the three of you home.

You dozed between the two of them on the way home, feeling safe and content. The drive was short, no more than ten minutes, but by the time you arrived, you were more than ready to stay in the car and sleep there until the morning.

Thankfully for you, Rhys pulled you gently into his arms and carried you all the way up to the penthouse, Feyre opening and closing the doors. You blinked yourself awake when you felt your dress being unzipped and tugged from your body, watching Feyre put it on a hanger and store it in the closet before Rhys helped her remove her own dress.

You sighed dreamily at the sight of her, clad in white lace lingerie like the perfect, pretty present that she was.

"Like what you see, darling?" She asked teasingly as she undressed Rhys slowly, grinning when she saw your eyes catch on his muscled torso.

"Mmhm," you hummed. "Come over here and I'll show you just ho-" the rest of your sentence was cut off by a wide yawn, drawing a chuckle from Rhys.

"I think you can wait to show her until tomorrow, little love," Rhys said, crossing the room once he was down to his boxers.

Also purple, like his tie.

"But I want to-"

"I would much rather help you take a bath, darling," Feyre said softly, already taking both of your hands in hers to help you up. "We can celebrate tomorrow, when we're all feeling refreshed and at the cabin. Doesn't that sound nice?"

You pouted at her for a half a second before giving in- after all, a bath did sound heavenly right now...

"Okay, as long as both of you take one with me."

"We wouldn't dream of doing it any other way, love," Rhys murmured in your ear, picking you up a moment later. "Now let's get us all warm and clean and cozy."

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

You woke tangled in the blankets the next morning, somehow having stolen nearly the entirety of it from your wife and husband, leaving them curled up close to you, half covered.

Not a bad view, you thought to yourself, drinking in the way the sunlight hit their skin, the curves of their bodies.

But still, the thought that had woken you needed to be tended to.

Though getting out of bed without waking either Rhys or Feyre... Would be tricky, seeing as you were nestled between them, their arms looped over you.

You started with Rhys first, he was always a bit of a heavier sleeper than Feyre. His arm was carefully placed over his side, though it immediately started creeping forward in its search for warmth.

The moment you moved Feyre's arm though, her eyes fluttered open, gorgeous blue meeting your own. The sleepy smile she gave you made you wish you had a camera in your hands, it was so soft and cute and sweet... Just like her.

You couldn't help it, you leaned forward to steal a sweet kiss from her, which she gladly gave, her arm tightening around your middle, pressing your bump to her tummy.

"Why are you up so early, love?" She whispered. "Did you need the bathroom?"

Well... "Yes, but I need to do something in the nursery too..."

Feyre's eyes narrowed briefly, likely having guessed what you wanted to do after relieving yourself.

"Okay, let's get you up, sweetheart," she whispered, getting out of bed herself before helping you swing your legs over the side, then pulling you to your feet. Her eyes lingered over your exposed bump and breasts, and you could sense that she was resisting pinching you somewhere.

Once you had used the bathroom, Feyre helped you get dressed in a comfortable lilac wrap dress and your purple bunny slippers before getting dressed herself. She slipped on a pair of light blue jean shorts with a forest green tshirt, looking even lovelier than ever.

Of course, that's what you thought every time you saw her, but it was still true.

"Let's get you to the nursery, love," Feyre said softly, letting one of your arms wrap around her while she did the same, helping support you as you walked the short distance to the nursery, only a door down from the master bedroom.

Inside of the pastel pink nursery, three cribs had already been set up, little mobiles dangling over them. There were already three pastel dressers that had been half filled with tiny baby clothes, carefully arranged by you into age groups, and three matching changing tables lined up against one wall, already stocked with all you would need to change the babies.

There was also a large couch against the back wall, a nursing chair positioned next to it in the corner. Both were heavenly to sit in, and remembering how long it had taken you to pick them out made you smile. Feyre and Rhys had been insistent on you getting only the most comfortable furniture for you, as you would be the one using them the most while breastfeeding.

In the middle of the room, covering most of the area rug with little animals on it, were the gifts from yesterday. None of them had been put away- good, you thought. You would only have arranged them all over again by yourself, needing them to be organized just how you liked.

Nesting, as it turned out, was very much you being overly needy about how things looked in the bedroom and nursery, but especially the nursery.

"I'll go make us some tea and be back in a few moments, alright love?" Feyre asked, waving a hand in front of your face when you didn't respond, only stared at the large pile. "Sit down, Y/N, I'll be back in a minute to help you sort it all out, don't worry."

She left the room, and you could hear how quickly she moved down the hallway. Maybe she was anxious about leaving you alone...

You sighed and sat down on the floor on your knees, not sure how better to position yourself. Picking through the pile, you started to sort the clothes out into their different age ranges, starting from newborn and going up to two years.

It was only five minutes later when Feyre returned, a tray with a pot of tea and three cups resting on it in her hands. "What are you doing on the floor?"

You blinked at her for a moment. "Uh... Sitting?"

"I can see that, silly, I meant for you to sit on the couch!" Feyre tsked, setting down the tray and holding her hands out for you to take. "Come on, little love, it's not good for you to be sitting like that."

You sighed and scrunched your face, but took Feyre's hands and let her help you onto the couch.

"Don't worry, I'll help you sort everything out exactly how you want. Now... How were you organizing this?" Feyre asked, kneeling in front of the pile.

"Well..."

It was maybe an hour later when you and Feyre had finished sorting all of the clothing that Rhys burst through the nursery door, a panicked look on his face.

"Are you okay? Are the babies okay?" He asked frantically, already by your side, assessing you with his hands and eyes.

You slapped his hands away gently when he tried to take your pulse, giggling at his antics. "I am just fine, darling. Are you okay?"

Rhys let out a breath of relief. "Of course, I was just worried when I woke up and both of you were gone..."

Feyre laughed and wrapped her arms around Rhys's shoulders. "You're such a mother hen, Rhysie. We just wanted you to sleep in a little bit, and Y/N wanted to organize all the new baby clothes we were given yesterday," she explained, rolling her eyes over his shoulder at you.

"I'm no mother hen, if anyone is a mother hen, then it's you, my dear Feyre."

"Oh, that's bull and you know it Rhys. You barely let Y/N take a step these days!"

It was Rhys's turn to roll his eyes. "Like you wouldn't also be carrying her everywhere if you could?" Feyre was silent, looking away with a smile growing on her face. "That's what I thought, darling. Now, if all the clothes are sorted, I thought we could get on the road soon," Rhys suggested, smiling when he saw your eyes light up.

"Yes, let's hit the road!" You exclaimed, and started to push yourself off the couch. Rhys and Feyre chuckled at your enthusiasm and helped you up, the three of you heading into the bedroom together.

"I think we have everything packed already, besides the blankets and pillows," Rhys said as he pulled the four duffel bags he had packed two days ago onto the bed, three stuffed full of the clothing you would be needing for the next five days, the other stuffed with toiletries, your vitamins, books, and a couple of canvases for Feyre. She would also be bringing her travel easel, packed tightly with the brushes and paints she would need to paint you in the water, as she had declared she would be doing.

And, of course, the go bag. Stuffed full of anything you would need should you go into labor, it was a must to take with you. It had the first onesies you wanted the babies to wear, lilac with a customized saying on it: 'Mommy's and Daddy's and Mommy's girl'.

You had cried when you opened them, a surprise from Feyre and Rhys two months ago.

Also inside was a Polaroid camera, a digital camera, a film camera - you wanted everything documented, and you wanted it done right... though, not the birth... That could stay off film for good.

"Is there anything else you can think of?" Feyre asked you, her pretty eyes distracting you from the question.

"Uhm... No?" You answered, your mind not coming up with anything.

"Then I do believe that we are ready to go!" Feyre said cheerily, guiding you to sit down on the bed so that she could change your shoes.

"I'll take the bags down, do not let her leave the apartment until I come back up," Rhys demanded, fixing you with a stern eye. You blushed but nodded, not wanting a repeat of your fainting spell three weeks ago.

Less than ten minutes later you were bundled into the car, your favorite pillow clutched in your lap, along with Feyre's hands. She played with your fingers the whole car ride, even when she was kissing you.

Which was nearly the entire time, both of you deciding that you didn't really need air anyways to live, you'd much rather breathe each other in.

You could hear Rhys's longing, quiet groans whenever he glanced at the two of you in the rear view mirror, and whenever you looked at him he had a slight flush to his face and neck, which only made both of you more enthusiastic.

"Oh mother, you two will be the death of me," Rhys grumbled, and you saw his right hand lower to his lap and heard the rustle of fabric.

"Hey, hands on the wheel, Rhysie," you said between kisses, tilting your neck to give Feyre access.

"Easier said than done..." He sighed, but moved his hand back to the steering wheel.

"You'll get your turn once we arrive, don't you worry husband," Feyre said against your skin, sending a shudder through you.

By the time you arrived you were a needy wreck, putty in Feyre's capable hands where they had slid below your dress, playing with your breasts.

"Alright, girls, my turn," Rhys growled as he pulled you from the car, entering the cottage once Feyre had unlocked the door and making a beeline for the bedroom. He set you down carefully, so gently that it brought tears to your eyes. "None of that sweet love, unless it's from too much pleasure," Rhys said quietly against the skin of your neck, just below your ear.

Feyre dipped onto the bed a moment later, her hand sneakily undoing the tie of your dress, which fell open easily, baring you to both of them.

"Too much pleasure? I think she can handle it," Feyre purred, her hand already snaking down your tummy and to your cunt, chuckling lowly when she felt the wetness that she'd created. "Don't you, sweet girl?"

You nodded your agreement, mouth falling slightly open when she dipped a finger inside of you.

Oh yes. You could handle this.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

An hour of their hands exploring every inch of you and another hour peacefully dozing in their embrace later, and Rhys was disentangling himself from the pile of limbs the three of you had made.

"Where are you going?" Feyre asked sleepily from your left, her breath warm against your chest.

"I'm going to go get food for our time here," Rhys replied, and you hear the shuffle of fabrics and jingle of his belt.

"I wanna go," you yawned, stretching your legs out and sighing at how lovely it felt.

Rhys kneeled on the mattress and over you, a thumb stroking over your cheek prompting your eyes to open. "If you go to the store, you know you have to be in a wheelchair the whole time, right darling?"

You scrunched your face up for a second. You hated using the wheelchair. But...

"I want to pick out snacks and drinks," you insisted, raising your own hand to cup his face. "You're so preeetty."

Rhys smiled, a toothy, adorable thing. "Okay, okay, so long as you stay in the wheelchair you can come shopping. I take it you'll want to come as well, Fey?"

"Of course, I'm not going to be left alone here while my wife and husband go shopping," Feyre said cheerily, already pulling herself into a sitting position. Rhys helped you do the same, and then to stand.

You all finished getting redressed before Rhys scooped you into his arms again and depositing you gently into the backseat, even buckling you up and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The trip into the lakeside town was short, no more than ten minutes, and you were relieved to see it had a small hospital, just as Rhys and Feyre had reassured you.

The local grocery store was cute and fairly large, and hopefully housing all of the items that you were hoping to get. You were wheeled inside, your cheeks flaming red as you saw people stare at your large baby bump and the two gorgeous people with you.

You never had liked being stared at... Unless it was Feyre and Rhys doing the staring.

Feyre pushed a cart while Rhys pushed you along, all of you picking out ingredients for dinner, breakfast, and the occasional snack, that was until you reached the candy aisle.

Recently you'd been craving chocolate- chocolate bars, chocolate cookies, chocolate covered fruit, chocolate anything.

And today was no different.

"Okay, Y/N, you can pick out five different candies if you'd like, and we'll all share them," Feyre said, obviously having noticed how your eyes were flitting over the choices.

"Five? Really?" You asked, surprised. One item a day, even if you were sharing, seemed like a lot.

"Yes, five," Feyre chuckled. "You don't have to pick out that many if you don't want to, but I thought since it's our honeymoon and all, that you could have some extra sweetness to go with you... extra sweetness," she said, wiggling her eyebrows at the last two words.

You only flushed further, though this time was from anticipation. Still, you made yourself take your time to pick out your items, not wanting to regret not choosing something later when the cravings struck.

With everything picked out, Feyre went to the cash register while Rhys took you back to the car, gently lifting you inside and buckling you in once more, this time with a heated kiss press to your lips.

You were breathless when he pulled away, your heart fluttering. "I love you," you whispered against his lips, smiling widely when he said the words back to you.

Feyre returned a moment later with the groceries, and once everything was unloaded and they were both buckled in, you were headed back to the cottage.

Rhys carried you inside once again, this time sitting you on the couch that faced a window, overlooking the lake that was right there.

"Can we go swimming soon?" You asked once both of them were seated beside you, groceries put away.

"Of course, love," Feyre said as she nuzzled into your shoulder.

"After you've eaten something, and rested for a bit," Rhys added, already up from the couch in search of something for you to have for lunch.

"Mother hen," you muttered, drawing a laugh from Feyre.

"I told him so," she giggled into your shoulder.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Swimming had been lovely, the three of you floating in the shallow end- or rather, you floating in the shallow end as Rhys and Feyre fought with tiny squirt guns while keeping a close eye on you.

After a bit they had called on you to play referee, but you kept forgetting how many points they had and eventually called it a tie, with the winners both receiving big smooches from you.

Rhys had insisted upon carrying you out of the water and back into the cottage without even drying off, leaving a trail of water behind you as he carried you to the bedroom and into the massive bathroom, taken up by a bathing pool that could easily fit five people.

He stripped both of you out of your bathing suits and lowered you into the water, grinning when you let out a pleased sigh at the warmth. He shifted so he was behind you, your back resting against his chest and sat between his legs, his hands stroking over your belly as the babies kicked softly.

Feyre came in a moment later, clad in only a towel, though not for long. She joined you in the tub, settling in to the right of you after pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

The water was warm, but not so warm that you couldn't soak with them for a while. You were already drifting off in Rhys's embrace, the warmth of the water and excitement from the day tugging you into the place between sleep and awareness, drifting through it as you felt Feyre and Rhys's soft hands, heard them kissing above you.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The next morning you had demanded to go swimming after breakfast, not caring that the water was still somewhat cool in the morning sun.

Feyre had decided that she very much cared, choosing to stay on the patio and paint you swimming.

Rhys was happy to swim, and even happier to have you float in his arms as he slowly tugged you through the water, completely relaxed in his hold.

Eventually, though, your skin was pruned and your stomach grumbling for a snack, and Rhys had to drag you out of the water, a pout on your face while he carried you to the patio.

"You can go back in after you've let your stomach rest a bit, love," Feyre reassured you as she patted you dry with a towel, then tied your swim dress around you.

"I know..." You pouted. "Will you join us next time?"

Feyre glanced over at her easel, a half finished painting still on it. "I suppose the rest of the painting can wait until tomorrow, if you'll be swimming then too?"

You nodded vigorously. "Oh, I plan to swim as much as I can while we're here. Once the babies come, it'll be even harder to find the time, and I think they really like it when I'm swimming," you smiled, rubbing a hand over your tummy, a small kick being enough to convince you that you were right.

Feyre placed her hand over yours, smiling when she also felt a kick, this one stronger, like she was showing off for her second mom.

"Well, let's go get you lunch then, so we can get you back in the water," Feyre said, leading you back into the cottage and to the dining table.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

When you had finished swimming that evening, Rhys and Feyre both helped you bathe again- which really meant that they washed you twice, both of them running their hands over every inch of skin, with Feyre's fingers dipping between your thighs, Rhys's mouth swallowing your cries when you came under her touch.

You watched them bathe each other, which was somehow more erotic than doing it yourself, your own hands reaching up to cup your breasts while you stared at them hungrily.

You were fixed with identical feline smirks after you let a gasp slip loose, the look in their eyes promising you nothing but trouble.

"Does our sweet girl like watching us?" Feyre crooned as she kneeled over you, your gaze locked on hers.

"Mhmm..." You nodded, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue. "Would.. Rhys?"

"Yes, darling?" Rhys asked lowly from behind Feyre.

"Would you..." You blushed heavily even at the thought. "Would you fuck Feyre? Hard," you said. "I... I want to watch you fuck her until she screams," you whispered, your blush intensifying under their gazes.

"Are you asking me to fuck my pretty wife while my other pretty wife watches?" Rhys asked teasingly, and you nodded. "What do you say, Feyre?" He asked her, pulling her hair aside and kissing along the expanse of her neck.

"Mm, I say yes- as long as I get to eat Y/N's sweet cunt while you do," Feyre said, a wicked glint in her eyes as she looked you over.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Rhys said lowly. "I do think it requires a change of scenery, though."

A moment later Rhys had hoisted a squealing Feyre over his shoulder, and you heard the bounce of a mattress as he deposited her on it, only moments later returning for you, a hungry look in his eyes.

"Once Feyre is done eating you, it'll be my turn, little love," he whispered in your ear as he brought you into the bedroom. Your eyes caught on Feyre, already on her knees and forearms on the bed.

You giggled with anticipation, more than ready for whatever the night would bring the three of you.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The next morning, you were awoken by a dull ache in your abdomen. You tried to disentangle yourself from Rhys and Feyre's arms, but they both stirred awake before you made much progress.

"Bathroom?" Rhys asked sleepily in your ear, his hand rubbing over your stomach in a soothing pattern.

"Mm... I think so," you whispered, wiggling your hips against him, delighting in the soft moan he let out.

"Wicked girl... Come on, let's get you up."

You relieved yourself quickly and exited the bathroom, finding Rhys and Feyre sitting in bed together, both yawning.

"I'm sorry I woke you up..." you said quietly, padding back to the bed and plopping yourself back down between them.

"Oh, nonsense Y/N," Feyre said softly, carding her fingers through your hair. "Don't ever feel bad about waking us up. Especially when you come back to bed for snuggles."

You hummed in agreement, but winced when another pain went through you.

"Are you okay, love?" Rhys asked, pressing a hand to your forehead.

"Mhm, just... a little pain happening."

Feyre frowned above you. "Pain? Where?"

Your expression matched her own as you placed your hand over your lower abdomen, at the bottom of your baby bump. "And a little in my back, too," you said, just before you realized.

Oh shit.

"I'm going into labor," you said, fear creeping over you.

"You're going into labor!" Both Rhys and Feyre exclaimed at the same time you spoke, all three of you exchanging looks before you all laughed for a moment, until it sunk in.

"Oh fuck, you're going into labor!" Rhys yelled, jumping up from the bed. "Quick, we need to get dressed and get the go bag and get in the car!"

You and Feyre shared a look, both of you still on the bed.

"Uhm... Rhys?" You asked, watching as he flew around the room, picking out a dress for you and Feyre and grabbing his own clothes, throwing them on quickly.

He paused for a moment, looking over to see the two of you, still relatively calm. "What? Why aren't you moving? Get up, get up!"

Feyre laughed from beside you. "Rhysie, she's not having contractions very close together, and her water hasn't broken yet. We don't have to rush quite so much."

He blinked at her for a moment, considering her words. "Nope, nope, get dressed. I'll make us some breakfast and pack everything up, but after that, it's the hospital for all of us!" Rhys exclaimed, breezing out of the room with his shirt unbuttoned and belt unbuckled.

You and Feyre shared a laugh together, muttering about him being a mother hen to each other, but you could tell that Feyre was nervous. Not that you weren't.

After all... You could very well be pushing three little humans out of you today, and if not today, then tomorrow.

Talk about scary...

Feyre helped dress you, the soft pink wrap dress that Rhys picked out comfortable and loose against your skin, soft slippers secured on your feet.

When you entered the main room, Rhys was already in a flurry of activity, switching between stirring the oatmeal he was cooking on the stove and packing up whatever he could get his hands on.

Feyre made sure you were sat at the table before disappearing into the bedroom, likely packing up all of your clothing and possessions to keep Rhys from having a heart attack at how much there was to do, and how little time he thought he had.

"I've already called Madja, she's going to meet us at the hospital in town in no more than two hours," Rhys informed you as he set a bowl of oatmeal in front of you. "How are you feeling? Any more contractions?" He asked with a gentle hand on your cheek.

"I'm doing fine so far, Rhysie. No more contractions yet."

"Good. Good," Rhys said, placing a kiss to the crown of your head. "Eat up, little love." He started to leave the table, but you caught your hand around his wrist.

"Wait," you pleaded. "Eat with me? Please?"

Rhys's expression softened at your tone, some of his panic ebbing away. "Of course, Y/N. I'll go get Feyre, and we can all eat together."

You smiled brightly at him, pleased that you would have one last meal as a family of three, rather than a family of six.

It was peaceful, once you had gotten both Rhys and Feyre to sit down and eat, both of them keeping a soothing hand on some part of you at all times.

The babies were kicking like crazy, obviously sensing that their time inside you was coming to an end, and seeming very excited to meet the world.

The calm ended once your face pinched with another contraction, though, Rhys immediately springing up to get the dishes washed and finish packing the rest of your things and lugging them out to the car.

Feyre sat with you while he bustled about, her hand resting over yours on your stomach while she talked about everything and nothing to distract you.

But soon Rhys had hoisted you into his arms once again and strapped you into the backseat, a sweet kiss pressed to your temple before he shut the door.

Feyre buckled in beside you, and you rested your head on her shoulder during the drive, soaking in the love she was giving you as she held you and stroked your hair.

By the time you reached the hospital, the contractions were coming closer together and lasting longer, a sure sign that you were nearing full-on labor.

Rhys settled you into a wheelchair before quickly leaving to park the car, promising that he would bring the go bag and for you and Feyre to head inside.

You and Feyre did just that, Feyre pushing you in to the front desk.

"Hello, what can I help you with?" The nurse asked, her eyes glued to the paperwork on her desk.

"Hi, uh, my wife is going into labor," Feyre replied, a hand running through your hair.

"Your wi-" The woman began to ask before she looked at the two of you, eyes sticking on the large bump of your belly. "Oh. I'll page OB right away, here's some paperwork for you to fill out."

"Thank you," Feyre said, grabbing the clipboard and pen from her and settling it in your lap before wheeling you over to the waiting area.

You had nearly finished filling out the paperwork together when Rhys flew through the doors, looking around frantically before his eyes landed on the two of you, immediately crossing the room to sit by you.

"Oh, good, you didn't get taken up yet. Well... Not good, but you know what I mean," Rhys rambled.

...

"This is the first time I've seen you nervous," you remarked, smiling when he looked offended.

"I am not nervous, I am appropriately aware of everything that is happening."

"Nervous," Feyre said, earning a light swat on the thigh from Rhys. "It's okay, Rhysie, I'm nervous too."

"Me too," you admitted, rubbing your belly absently.

"Well... Good, we're all nervous, we can all be nervous together," Rhys said, bobbing his head up and down.

You giggled at him, but was cut off by another contraction taking you off guard.

"Man... These things are annoying..."

"Y/N Night?" A nurse called from across the room, her eyes already locked on the three of you. Or, more specifically, the bump you possessed.

You were taken up to the second floor and given a nice room with a good view out the window, not that you could see it with all the doctors in the room.

As you were being transferred from a wheelchair to your bed, your water had broken, spilling down your legs and onto your feet.

The sensation had brought tears to your eyes, and your loving partners had so kindly cleaned you up without even a word of complaint, instead choosing to press loving kisses to your forehead and cheeks and hands as often as they could.

Madja had arrived only a half an hour after the three of you had, entering the room and parting the sea of doctors with her presence alone. Immediately she had given you steroids to help the babies' lungs develop as much as they could before you went into full labor, and had given you an epidural.

The feeling of your lower half being numb? Not your favorite. But you supposed it was better than feeling every contraction moving through you.

Rhys was pacing in the room, not able to stay still for a moment unless he was touching you in some way, but the fleet of doctors that had come to witness a birth of triplets had made that more and more difficult as the day wore on, to the point that you were beginning to feel a bit touch starved.

Feyre had stayed calmer, sitting in a chair that had a direct line of sight to you, but you saw her legs bouncing up and down, growing faster whenever a new doctor would touch and examine you.

After three hours of waiting to be left alone with your husband and wife, you were feeling fed up. Madja had just reentered the room after giving a short briefing to Rhys and Feyre, the two of them trailing behind her.

You made a pouty face, hoping that you looked as sad as you felt, not having enough access to your spouses.

Thankfully for you, Madja knew almost every one of you looks at this point, having seen you at least once a week for the past six months.

"Alright, that's enough exams for now, let's let the mother rest a bit," Madja commanded, the sea of white coats filtering out the door, taking their mumbled words with them.

You had a feeling that more than a few of them would have said choice words about the parenting situation of the babies.

But that didn't matter. Because when you looked at Feyre and Rhys, now by your sides, each holding one of your hands? You knew that you had everything you would ever need.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Eight more hours later, and you were blessed with three beautiful, healthy baby girls. They were all small, yes, and were nearly swimming in their first onesies, but they were healthy.

They were healthy, and you had made it through labor safely, thanks to Madja's expertise.

And, of course, the parents of your children, who had stuck by you throughout the entire labor, offering their hands to squeeze and dabbing away your sweat and fanning you when you felt too hot.

They were perfect.

Your babies were perfect.

Life was perfect.

Little Astra, Aurora, and Ayla had already lit up your life with their presences, their tiny coos and cries music to your ears.

Rhys and Feyre had managed to squeeze themselves onto your hospital bed, each of you holding one of your precious little nuggets.

You had Ayla in your arms, the smallest of the triplets, but the loudest. Rhys had Astra, who had been born with a thick tuft of blue-black hair, her violet eyes wide as she surveyed the room. And Feyre was holding Aurora, the largest and most mobile of the three, her little hand already grasping at your fingers when you offered them to her.

You were exhausted, of course, but before you went to sleep for the first time as a mother, you wanted to snuggle and feed your babies, and spend some quiet time with your lovers.

"They're so..." You sighed, unable to even finish the thought.

"Perfect?" Rhys asked.

"Amazingly adorable?" Feyre suggested.

"Yes and yes. I just know... I know that they will own me forever," you said softly, taking in a deep huff of baby smell.

Fresh, sweet baby.

You could hardly believe that a one night stand, no matter how fantastic, had lead to this.

You had a family now, made up of two loving spouses and three perfect little babies.

And even if things got hard, which they surely would... You knew that everything would be alright.

Because the three of you? You can do this, together.

🤍🩵💖💜🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Okay, so in one of the comments that you replied to in your “gold rush AU! Konig”, you stated that she’s heads over heels in love with him, but apparently hasn’t shown/told him yet. And even though he believes that she doesn’t love him, he’s still so in love with her and just wants to make her happy. (That has got to pull at her heartstrings because this odd but kind man simply just loves her.)

Would you be willing to do a next part? Showing that she was just resisting what she knew along and that was that she does love and only wants him. Because although he went about marrying her immediately instead of taking the time to get to know each other and even though he’s from an European background, who is a giant with an accent and working to hit gold to support her financially, he’s still been nothing but kind, loving, and can apparently rock her world in bed! (Basically she was resisting in giving in into admitting she loves him because she had this WHOLE mindset/vision about how it was ALL gonna go down but since it didn’t go the way she thought it would, she was resisting his love for the “fairytale” version she wanted.)

Eventually she finally confesses that she does love him but had to get to that conclusion slowly on her own terms. This of course makes him so happy and he feels so blessed to gain his wife’s love; he once again promises that he will do everything in his powers to ensure she’s happy for all the rest of the days of her life. Which he does because some time later he hits it big in gold which lets him upgrade the “shack” they’re living in to convert it into an actual home for them to spend the rest of their lives together (with future children).

And he asks her of what she wants him to buy for her since he can afford to get it for her, only for her to ask for a new and bigger (so he fits comfortably) reinforced bed; because she wants him to be able to rest properly in a comfortable bed AND she doesn’t want to hear it creak as he plows her into nirvana/heaven. This of course causes him to blue screen but once he reboots his brain, he promises that he’ll get the best bed that will not only support their nightly activities but be very comfortable for both of them.

It’s only once they get the new bed and use/“break it in”/“christen” it for the first time does he finally gets her pregnant on that first night.

Oh, your writings are just so good! 😊

Oh I love the bed scenario and König wanting to spoil her and the story about how he got her pregnant for the first time (you can’t tell me these two won’t have a small flock of annoying little kids running around eventually) so much! 😭💞

And I actually wrote a little something for this because people were putting me in jail for the roaring angst of the 1st part so here’s how these silly pookies got to their happily ever after:

Our pompous little mail order bride is, in fact, so in love with König that it’s not even funny.

It's so bad that she looks out the window and sighs as she waits for him to come home... Scoots away the minute she catches him in the horizon, of course. She has better things to do than wait by the window sill like some wanton prostitute!

She whimpers like one, however, when the door slams shut and her husband comes to grope her from behind, telling her he wants to take her on the table (there’s food there and they were supposed to eat first, what a horrible man!) Not to talk of getting wet just from the sight of him looming over her, she has no objections with getting spread on the sturdy planks for taking. She should probably be thankful that the dinner table is made of solid wood and is not some delicate piece hauled here from Europe because it could never take the brute force of König’s advances...

After they're both sated and done, he dares to dip his finger in one of the cast iron pots filled to the brim with stew. Has a taste while still inside her, only chuckles to himself when she furrows her brows from how uncivilised he is. What kind of a man barges in his home like a burglar, takes his wife on the table, then tastes the hearty stew like it’s only normal for a man to be hungry after plowing his lady until they're both shaking? Even the bed is about to break at night, these pieces of furniture have done nothing wrong to this man and yet he treats them like they're nothing but disposable bits of wood.

His lack of manners never ceases to astonish her; he even tries to give her a taste of the food too, and laughs when she pushes him away and straightens her skirts, how is she supposed to walk around with his seed running down her thighs? All the pretty things he got her from town are in need of a wash already, but she still hums a soft happy tune while looking at her reflection in the mirror, donning the pretty hat he just brought her along with coffee and flour. (She thinks he can’t hear or see her being visibly happy, but König takes mental notes every time her eyes shine a little brighter from his gifts. She's not lacking anything, that's for sure, and isn’t it nice that he remembered how she looked at that silly little hat when they walked by her favorite store…? Anything his princess wants, she shall have!)

Years and years of lonely digging in this harsh land far away from home have made her husband think that no woman could ever want him unless he buys their love, and she does enjoy the pretty little frills he brings her as offerings. But what would kill her is if he knew she had actual feelings for him… This was supposed to be an arrangement, a marriage between two adults, not a romantic passionate affair! That sort of thing only happens in books, that's the first thing she learned when she came here.

He should have courted her properly first, but now it's all ruined, there's no excitement and intensity... Except that her heart is always hammering in her chest, she feels like a trapped bird flitting inside her corset. She's always flustered when he goes under her skirts, her chest is about to collapse in on itself when she sees him flash a smile her way, carry her more silk and demurely apologize that the wrappings are dirty because of his hands, kiss her neck after copulation like it's the holiest place on earth...

And God Almighty, what would this man think of her if she confessed her love to him? He would probably laugh and think she’s a harlot who’s in desperate need of his cock, that she's indecent and impure…

Luckily, the brute is so stupid that he doesn’t see the way his little princess–as he now calls her–looks up at him when he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. She’s relatively sure he doesn’t notice the tiny gasps just before she comes, the helpless, adoring stares she shoots at him right after, because that glassy, worshipping stare of his own is only born of lust, that’s for sure.

He can’t see her figure flash in the window when he’s walking towards home, she’s made sure of that…

Or has she?

The man is dumb, but he’s not a total simpleton, even if his eternal sadness is slowly turning into a teasing, an even hungrier form of love. She fears he will simply devour her one of these days if he knew how deeply in love with him she is as well...

And she fears herself even more than she fears him. Didn’t the priest warn about exactly this kind of simple-minded, wanton lust in his last sermon? She was always taught that marriage is supposed to be about companionship and genial living together, not about sweaty, toe curling, mind numbing copulation.

They’re fornicating like animals in the little shack she has grown so fond of, shy to the changes he’s talking about every day since he struck some large gold vein. He openly fantasizes about getting them a large house, a small manor, even, and she knows it’s all just for her because this man is content with very little… So little, that he accepts any small crumb of affection she gives him like it’s an entire rain of manna from heaven.

And it’s only because she’s ashamed that she can’t show her true feelings for him. The gentlemen of the city now feel like fancy peacocks compared to this burly man who’s not afraid to get his hands dirty and his dick wet. Those men look delicate and boring and ridiculous next to the hairy giant who’s forearms she stares in the evenings like they’re her own personal cancan show.

It’s crazy, how she looks at him like he’s nothing but a piece of meat – are women even supposed to feel this way? She should say her prayers, because her foreign husband looks like a god while sharpening his ax by the fire, with slow, deliberate movements, the trembling hands finding a smooth, strong dance only when they’re wielding a pickaxe or a whetstone or a knife.

He catches her staring once, her frightful stare big and helpless in the flickering flames, and he gives her a sad, longing smile in return.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he gruffs softly. “Ich weiss… I know I should shave...”

Her head gives an involuntary shake, minimal and shy, because she doesn’t want him to shave. She adores that coarse stubble that leaves her skin red and irritated, she loves how he looks when he has so much going on in his life that he doesn’t have time to groom himself.

“No…?” He asks hesitantly, straightening a little on the chair that’s really only a piece of log. “You like it like this...?”

She nods. Shyly again, and just once, while her eyes drift on his lips.

It’s intimate, how the silence envelops them with both tension and grace. It’s all she can give right now, and he knows it, knows also that this whole exchange is basically a love confession. Her affection, her want, her dedication and surrender soar and swell all at once, and he can see it... All of it.

He rises, and abandons the ax, his softening stare never leaving hers. He walks to her like a gentleman, like he's Mr. Rochester himself, like she was Ms. Eyre – although she doesn’t want to be Jane Eyre and she doesn’t want him to be a dark, handsome gentleman. She wants him to be just as he is, the stranger from the North who works hard and loves even harder, who picks her up like she’s an angel and not a lady.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?”

His gaze is so soft, it’s starting to relax into some knowledge she has in her foolishness betrayed.

But it’s alright… Everything’s just as it should be.

She wraps her hands around his neck and whispers, “Yes,” and the smile that tugs at his lips finally melts into one of those I knew it smiles he sometimes wears when he brings her something nice from the town.

He doesn’t push her to reveal more information about how much she loves his stubble, but he does make her scream it out into the warm cottage air as he goes down between her legs. She doesn’t want to know what the local priest would say about this: a man making his mark on the insides of her thighs with that scraping beard, how he makes her core throb with his ever-hungry mouth. She doesn’t even care.

It’s a paradise and an inferno, where he’s sending her to, and who knew a brutish digger from some distant land could suddenly be so eloquent with his tongue? Who knew a man could do things like these to a woman...? Who knew married life could be like this?

“You liked that, didn’t you, princess,” he asks when he’s done with her, and holds her surprisingly gentle when she’s still shaking and squirming softly on the bed. Not God, not even the Devil, could cloud the full blown affection in her eyes. She’s in love – it’s not just lust, but love she feels for this man, and she feels like a fool for not recognizing she had gold in her hands all along.

“Yes,” she says, then smiles, then laughs, because it’s fairly obvious that she can’t speak those words even if she wanted to. He wrecked her so completely...

“I told you I’d make you happy, Sonnenschein.”

He smiles a little, looks down at her like she’s nothing but a baby who finally stopped her eternal crying.

“Oh I’m more than happy,” she says, this time tears clouding her vision, happy tears born from being free from years of imprisonment. He doesn’t strike her as the kind of man who cries, but there’s a faint glow in his eyes as well, a shimmer that both takes her in and pulls her under. This is something they don’t talk about in church... This is a thing they never write about in books.

She lays her hand on him, on the coarse cheek that is now slightly wet from a single tear.

“You’re crying,” she whispers, because her voice wouldn’t carry the weight of her words at this point.

“Ja…? Well... I’m happy too,” he explains, with a shortness of breath and a confusion to his voice.

He blinks the rest of it away, but the sweet moment stays, lingers on until she draws him into a kiss – another thing they never talk about in novels, a woman kissing a man – and she tastes both him and her on his lips, how well he loved her, and when he moans slightly from her reciprocating that love, she holds him closer, closer, closer… Until he shivers too.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Fresh Blood | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings:

Word Count: 6382

A/N: This may be one of my favorite episodes I’ve ever written. I hope you guys love it as much as I loved writing it!!!

Also this gif i'm nutting. goodbye.

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Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“I’m just trying to figure out what you’re looking for here, Sam,” you explained as he paced around the room. You sat calmly on yours and Dean’s shared motel bed. 

“I thought I was pretty clear about it, (Y/N), I just want Dean to actually give a fuck about himself,” Sam continued. 

You sighed and shook your head. “You and me both. But that was not the impression you were giving either of us. I think his apology was completely warranted, and your reaction was completely dickish.” 

The brunet scoffed. “Of course, you’re on his side. Even though he’s leaving you here, to0.”

“See! That! Right there! That makes us think you want an apology from him. So are you angry at him for dying or angry at him for trying to enjoy what little he’s got left?” you replied pointedly.

Your phone rang, breaking the conversation between you and Sam. “Hello?”

“Hello, darling,” Bela cooed through the phone. “Where are you?”

“Why do you wanna know?” you asked, skeptical. 

“C’mon, I thought we established a rapport with each other. Don’t you trust me?” she replied flippantly. 

“No,” you scoffed. “So, again, why do you wanna know?”

“Was curious if you were nearby. Maybe we could have that girl talk you suggested,” she replied easily.

You still weren’t sure if you trusted her, but against your better judgment, you told her anyway. 

“That’s too bad,” she said. “Nowhere near me. Thanks anyway, love. And thank you again for saving me.” She hung up.

You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it questioningly. Bela had been a bit too pleasant, and something in you was screaming red flags at you. Even still, you pushed the feeling aside. 

Sam looked at you strangely. “Who was that?”

“Bela,” you replied, still slightly zoned out while the wheels in your head turned. “She asked where we were. Sure that won’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

***

The current town you were blowing through was home to a nest of vampires you were there to wipe out. It seemed like a standard hunt, but when was it ever with the Winchesters?

In front of you, Dean moved his flashlight over to a pool of blood on the ground of the dark alleyway. Worriedly, you and the brothers rushed toward the man whose blood was spilling out profusely. 

Fortunately, he was still conscious, and you immediately took the handkerchief out of your jacket pocket to start packing his wound. “Sam, call an ambulance,” you ordered.

“Where is she? Where'd she go?!” Dean questioned frantically. 

The man gestured vaguely down the alley, and the older brother set off down it. While you continued to try and stop the bleeding from the man’s bite wound and keep him conscious and calm, you heard Dean yell, “Smell that?! Come and get it!”

“Oh, Dean, you idiot,” you shook your head without stopping your work, knowing he’d done something stupid trying to get the vampire’s attention. 

“That's right. Come on. I smell good, don't I? I taste even better.”

You bit your lip at Dean’s taunting words, unfortunately being reminded of how good he did actually taste in the midst of your chaotic situation. 

“Come on! Free lunch!” your partner continued yelling. 

“Ambulance is on its way,” Sam told you. “Probably five minutes out.”

“Then we’d better be gone before they get here.” You looked down at the man. The bleeding had begun to slow, and he looked less panicked. “I don’t wanna leave you here, dude, but I’m gonna have to. You gonna be okay?”

He took the handkerchief from you and kept it firmly on his wound before offering a confused smile and a thumbs-up. 

You smiled down at him and pushed up off the floor. 

“Cutting it a little close, don’t you think?” you heard Sam telling Dean further down the alleyway. 

“What’d you do, you idiot?” you asked, strutting up to the boys. You then noticed Dean holding his neck, and his arm was bleeding. “Oh, Jesus— Dean!”

“Just chum in the water, sweetheart. Worked, didn't it?” the older brother smirked at you. He looked down at his undoubtedly pulsing arm. “Ow,” he whined.

“C’mon,” you said. “Let’s getcha back to the motel room and take the undead chick with us.”

Sam hoisted the vampire over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. “Let’s go.”

***

The petite, blonde vampire sat in the center of the dingy room tied to a chair. The morning sun was beginning to rise, and Sam had leaned the mattresses against the windows to block anyone from seeing into the room. Meanwhile, you were helping Dean get cleaned up. 

He sat on the last unoccupied chair beside the table in the corner. You stood next to him, carefully cleaning the wound on his neck. He hissed through his teeth as you wiped around it. “Baby, if you keep flinching, it’s gonna take even longer,” you said. 

“It fuckin’ hurts,” he whined. 

“Yeah, well, it was your bright idea to let Lady Nosferatu bite you in the neck,” you replied. 

“Lady who?” he questioned. 

“Dude— nevermind,” you snickered. When you had the gauze pad secured to his still slightly bleeding neck, you moved to address his arm. You kneeled in front of him, and Dean immediately had a wide smirk on his face. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Nothin’, just… looks like you’re about to give me head,” he snickered. 

“Dean!” you squeaked, smacking the inside of his muscular, thick thigh lightly. “Sorry, Sam.”

“It’s fine!” Sam immediately responded, and his reaction told you that he simply didn’t want to acknowledge his brother’s crudeness. 

You giggled and continued your work before you scolded, “Why’d you cut your arm so deep, you dumbass? I’m gonna have to stitch it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, next time, I’ll bring my scalpel and only cut three-fourths of an inch down,” Dean snarked. 

“That’s actually too deep,” you replied. “Dermis has the blood; only, like, three millimeters under the top layer of skin.”

“Well, excuse me, professor— Fuck!” he cursed when you stuck the needle through his arm to begin stitching it up. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you joked. 

“It hurts,” he replied, whining a little.

“Again, maybe don’t go baitin’ Jaws,” you snarked. 

His arm would tense every once in a while, but he stayed relatively quiet while you finished your work. 

“All done,” you said when you’d finished wrapping the wound in a bandage. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said. Dean leaned down and tilted your chin up with his fingers to kiss you gently. 

You smiled against his lips, but the smile faded when you heard the vampire start shifting behind you. 

Immediately, Dean was all business. It was both terrifying and a huge turn-on when he “flipped the switch,” so to speak. “You with us?”

Dean questioned, leaning over the vampire who still had blood dripping from her mouth.

The girl woke up fully and struggled against her bonds.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. You're not going anywhere,” the older Winchester taunted. 

You sat where Dean had while you patched him up and crossed your legs and arms, staring intimidatingly. 

“Where's your nest?” Sam asked the vampire.

“What?” she replied, looking confused.

“Your nest,” you said as if it was obvious. “Where the rest of you freaks hang out.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she began to cry. “Please! I don't feel good.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, well, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot worse if we give you another shot of dead man's blood,” Dean hissed. 

“Just let me go,” the blonde begged.

Sam laughed. “Yeah, you know we can't do that.”

“I'm telling you the truth. I'm just... I took something. I'm freaking out! I don't know what's going on!” she cried. 

That seemed to change Sam’s approach to her. “You took something?”

“Yes! I can't... come down. I just want to come down,” she whined. 

“What's your name?” Sam asked.

“Lucy,” she responded, sniffling. “Please, just let me go.”

“Alright, Lucy, how about this?” Sam started. “If you tell us what happened, we'll let you go.”

“You will?” She looked over to you and Dean. Dean nodded insincerely, but you remained unmoving. 

“Uh, I don't really... um, it's, it's not that clear. I was at Spider,” Lucy explained. “The club, on Jefferson. And there was this guy... he was buying me drinks.”

“This guy... what's he look like?” Sam pressed.

“He was old, like thirty. He had brown hair, a leather jacket... uh, Deacon or Dixon or something. Said he was a dealer... he had something for me.”

“Something?” prompted Dean.

“Something new. ‘Better than anything you've ever tried.’ He put a few drops in my drink.”

“Was the drug red and thick?” you deadpanned. 

She nodded, and Sam hung his head in disbelief. 

“Well, genius move there. That was vampire blood he dosed you with,” Dean said, almost cold. 

“What?” Lucy squeaked. 

“Yeah, you just took a big steamin' shot of the nastiest virus out there,” Dean responded.

“You're crazy! He gave me roofies or something! No... The next thing I know, we're at his place, and he says he's gonna get me something to eat, just wait. But I get so hungry,” she whined. 

Dean moved behind your chair as he asked, “So you busted out?” 

Lucy nodded. “But it won't wear off... whatever he gave me?”

“Lights are too bright? Sunshine hurt your skin?” you said.

“Yeah... And smells. And I can... hear blood pumping!” she cried. 

“Well, I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your blood's never pumping again,” Dean explained. 

Lucy shook her head. “Not mine. Yours. I can hear a heart beating from half a block away. I just want it to stop.”

Sam looked sympathetic, and you were having a difficult time hating the girl at that moment. It was reminding you of the case with Gordon where your world was turned upside-down.

“Alright, listen, Wavy Gravy,” Dean jested, “It's not going to stop. You've already killed two people, almost three.”

The blonde sobbed, “No, I couldn't. No! I was hallucinating!”

“You killed them, alright?” Dean growled. “We've been following a sloppy trail of corpses, and it leads straight to you.”

“No. No, it wasn't real! It was the drug! Please! Please, you have to help me!”

Sam jerked his head at you and Dean, making you step out of the room. 

“No, no,” she wailed as you walked out.

“Poor girl,” said Sam when you entered the next room. 

“We don't have a choice,” Dean reminded him. 

Sam sighed, but ultimately nodded at you. On his cue, you took your machete back into the room with Lucy. 

“No… please!” she begged as you approached her. 

Almost completely devoid of emotion, you swung your machete at her neck and took her head off in one clean cut. Her head thumped to the ground beside you, and your stomach dropped slightly. 

Before you could spend too much time contemplating the morality of what you’d just done, you ordered the boys to start helping you dispose of her. You cleaned the blood off from around her mouth and closed her eyes in an attempt to give her a properly respectful funeral. Thankfully, Sam and Dean didn’t question the fact that you wanted to give her a hunter's funeral and helped you set up the pyre in the middle of the woods. 

“You okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently while Lucy’s body burned. 

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Wrong place, wrong time, and that could’ve been me.” You shook your head and took a deep breath, forcing your emotions aside. “Well, we did her a favor. At least she won’t be a blood junkie for the rest of forever.” You turned and headed back to the car, leaving both the boys behind. 

***

That night, you and the Winchesters headed to Spider, the bar that Lucy told you about. Thinking about that poor girl was beginning to make you feel sick. What was making you even sicker was watching Dean have to flirt with beautiful girls for information. You knew he was just doing his job, but it was getting under your skin watching them eye him wantonly and trail their manicured nails up his arm. Girls were approaching Sam, too, and he was barely entertaining any of them. The sight of his discomfort made you giggle. You chose to hang back against the wall with a drink in your hand. Although, at this moment, you definitely would’ve preferred a joint. 

Dean soon rejoined you against the wall, and you giggled at the uncomfortable shiver he exaggerated when he approached you. 

“What, flirting’s not your thing anymore?” you teased, although his answer was going to serve as a bit of a test.

“Nah, not with anyone else,” he replied. “Not since you.”

You smiled lopsidedly. “Find out anything useful?”

“Nope,” he replied. “That was a big, fat waste of time.”

“Awesome.”

Sam came up to you and Dean next, mirroring Dean’s uncomfortable shiver. 

“How’d it go, Casanova?” you jeered, and Sam glared at you. 

“Not great,” he replied, beginning to lead you out of the bar. “I don’t get it, though. Three blondes have gone missing, including Lucy, all last sighted here. I'm telling you, this is the hunting ground. What I can’t figure out is where the hell he—”

“You mean that guy?” you asked, pointing to a thirty-something-year-old man ducking into an alley with his arm around a pretty blonde. 

Sam looked at you concernedly, and the three of you ran after the guy and the blonde. 

“You ready, sweetie?” the man asked, voice becoming louder as you approached. “One taste of this; you'll never be the same.”

Dean charged him before he could drug the girl and clocked him squarely across the jaw. 

“Get out of here,” you told the girl, who looked startled. “Go, go!”

She listened to you and ran back toward the bar. A sickening thud had you turning back around to see Dean lying on the ground against a brick wall. The vampire had cut and run. 

“Dean!” you cried. 

“I'm good,” he groaned as you helped him up. “Come on.”

You ran after the vampire, and as you turned the corner, you came face to face with Gordon and the man that had tried to kill Sam you’d called Willem Dafoe. 

Gordon raised his gun, and you took the opportunity to sprint behind cars parked nearby to dodge the flying bullets. You pulled the brothers behind a brick wall one of the cars was parked next to and attempted to catch your breath. 

“Alright. Run,” Dean ordered you and Sam. “I'll draw them off.”

“What?!” you and Sam hissed simultaneously. Sam’s, “No, you're crazy!” and your, “No fucking way, Dean!” followed him out of the alley. You watched in horror as Dean jumped onto a car across the street from you and narrowly missed being hit by a bullet whizzing past him. Your breath released when he pulled himself over a second-story parking lot entrance, and you nodded at Sam to head down the alley further before Gordon or his friend could find you here. 

***

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” you spat. “As soon as he gets back here, he’s fucking dead.”

Sam paced between the two beds while you sat angrily at the table in the motel room, flipping your knife anxiously.

“There you are!” Sam exclaimed when his brother burst through the door. 

“Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice,” Dean replied at complete ease.

You stood, face set dangerously in anger and almost daring Dean to say something to set you off even further. “Couldn’t even call us to tell us you were okay?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you continued to chastise him. “Great fucking going, by the way, runnin’ into the line of fire.”

“Well, what can I say? I'm a bad-ass.” 

You were floored at Dean’s blatant disregard of your concern and anger. His disrespect was definitely getting him closer and closer to the doghouse with each passing second. 

“So, I guess Gordon's out of jail,” Dean mentioned casually.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. You know, how the hell did he know where to find us?” Sam asked. 

Through your anger, it dawned on you. You became even further enraged. “Bela.” Before the Winchesters could make a comment, you pulled out your phone and called her. 

“Hello, darling.” You could almost hear the smile in Bela’s voice as she spoke. 

“Got something to tell me, lover?” you mockingly replied. 

“There was something, actually,” she said. “Gordon Walker paid me to tell him where you were.”

You hummed through gritted teeth. 

“Well, he had a gun on me. What else was I supposed to do?” she laughed uncomfortably. 

“Pick up the damn phone after he’s gone,” you answered, voice uncomfortably calm.

“I did fully intend to call, I just got a bit sidetracked,” she rushed out, still trying to maintain her cool and failing miserably. “I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was such a big deal. After all, there are three of you and one of him.”

“There were two of them, but thanks for playin’,” you remarked. 

“Oh.” You heard a shift in her tone, but you were too angry to care. 

“Listen to me closely,” you began. “If I make it out of this alive, the first fucking thing I’m gonna do is kill you.”

“You’re not serious!” she protested.

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” you responded, your voice still eerily calm. 

“(Y/N)—”

“Goodbye, Bela.” You snapped your phone shut. When you’d hung up, you took a deep breath. Your brief moment of solace was disrupted by Dean.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

To even your own surprise, you laughed; hard. You felt insane yourself, but you were so angry, you couldn’t speak. When you’d calmed down enough to talk, you hissed, “Do you think I’m fucking okay?!”

“No, I just—”

You steeled yourself. “No. We’ll talk about this later,” you asserted, and Dean snapped his mouth shut obediently. “For now, we gotta track a vamp.”

“First things first,” Dean began trepidatiously, trying not to set you off again.

“Gordon,” you nodded. 

“About that. When we find him, or if he finds us…” the older brother trailed off. “Well, I'm just saying, he's not leaving us a whole lot of options.”

Calmly, Sam stated, “Yeah, I know. We've got to kill him.”

“Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like—” he gave his best impersonation of his younger brother’s whiny voice, “ ‘No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong’.”

Sam shrugged. “No, I'm done. I mean, Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead... or till he is.”

Your phone rang, and you scowled at it when you read the caller ID. “What?!”

“I don't like it when people hold grudges against me,” Bela started, “and more to the point, I'd rather you didn't kill me, so I went ahead and found Gordon's exact location for you.”

“You're a hundred miles away. How the hell did you—”

“Hello? Purveyor of powerful occult objects?” she remarked. “I used a talking board to contact the other side.”

“And?” you prompted. 

“Warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside.”

“Thanks,” you said.

“One more thing. The spirit had a message for you. ‘Leave town, run like hell, and whatever you do, don't go after Gordon.’ For whatever that's worth,” Bela told you before hanging up. 

You considered her words carefully and told the boys what you’d heard.

Dean, who’d been sharpening his machete, stowed the weapon in his duffel bag and immediately headed out of the door. You and Sam followed his lead. Despite the little sleep you’d been getting and the long night ahead, you felt wide awake. 

***

You were on even higher alert when you arrived at the building Bela had described. As a precaution, you and Dean grabbed machetes and handguns. Sam stayed behind you with his own gun, and the three of you carefully entered the warehouse. 

You heard what sounded like crying coming from down the stairs near the entrance, and you motioned for Sam and Dean to follow you. 

As the room below came into view, you were stunned to see the vampire you’d been looking for kneeling; surrounded by the bodies of young girls with their heads having been ripped manually from their bodies. About a dozen blonde and bloodied heads lay scattered mercilessly across the floor, and despite your years of experience, your stomach turned at the sight. 

“Go ahead,” the vampire encouraged, unmoving. “Do it. Kill me.”

“What happened here?” Sam asked him. 

“Gordon Walker,” he sniffed. “I never should have brought a hunter here. Never. I just... I just wanted some kind of revenge. Stupid... exposing him to my family.”

“Oh, yeah, you're such a family man,” Dean couldn’t help but remark. 

The vampire paused for a tense moment. “You don't understand.”

“I don't want to understand, you son of—”

The vampire cut him off, standing and crying out, “I was desperate! You ever felt desperate?”

You turned to see Dean with that infuriatingly unreadable expression on his face. 

“I've lost everyone I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?” he said, approaching you. 

You tightened your grip on your machete.

Despite how the vampire’s words were clearly beginning to affect him, Dean snarkily replied, “Well, there's Hell.”

“I wasn't thinking. I just... I didn't care anymore. Do you know it's like when you just don't give a damn? It's like... it's like being dead already.” He looked down at your machete. “So just go ahead. Do it.” 

Sam was bent over, inspecting the heads of the girls that lay on the floor. “Dean. Head wasn't cut off, it was ripped off. With someone's bare hands. Dixon, what did you do to Gordon?”

Dixon didn’t respond for a moment. 

“He asked you a question,” you stated firmly. 

“I turned him,” was Dixon’s immediate reply. 

You dropped your head in frustration before immediately recovering and swiping Dixon’s head clean off. 

***

When both boys had gone to bed, you snuck out to the Impala wrapped in a hoodie and sweatpants. Illuminated only by the moon and a singular streetlight across from your rural motel, you rolled a joint sitting on the trunk and staring up at the sky. As the smoke filled your lungs, you fought back your rising emotions. 

A few minutes later, Dean walked up beside you. He stared straight ahead, as did you. “You should get some sleep,” Dean instructed.

You remained unmoving and took another hit of your joint. Your long inhale and exhale was making Dean nervous for your response; you could practically feel his anxiety radiating off him despite how he tried to hide it. “I’ll sleep when I know I’m not losing both of you,” you finally replied quietly.

He scoffed, and you saw him drop his head to the side out of the corner of your eye. “What do you mean, you’re not losing—”

“You took a big fucking risk, Dean,” you cut him off. “You’re getting more and more reckless.”

“It’s a dangerous gig, (Y/N),” he argued, voice steely. “We all take risks every once in a while.”

“Risks is different than attempted suicide, dude,” you replied.

“When’s the last time Sam or I jumped in front of two firing guns?”

“That’s just ‘cause you guys are pussies—”

“No, dammit!” You stood and threw your joint to the ground, stamping it out. You turned to him for the first time in your conversation. “I am so tired of your crap! Do you know what it feels like to watch you take greater, dumber risks than you already normally do because you know you have an expiration date?! Why are you acting like you want to rush it? Because you and I both know you’re terrified—”

“You don’t know that,” Dean shook his head, brows drawn together and jaw clenched in anger.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “Because I know you. And I love you. And—” your voice broke, but you pushed through the angry tears, “selfishly, I don’t wanna lose the little bit of time I have left with you because you’re on some… kamikaze trip or whatever.”

Dean stared down at you, and you stared back despite the tears steadily sliding down your cheeks. After a moment, he pulled you into his chest and rested his head on top of yours. You wrapped your arms around him and deeply inhaled his scent. Dean kissed the top of your head, and you sighed contentedly. 

“Please don’t make this harder for me,” you begged him. “Please.” You pulled away from him and gingerly touched his cheek. “And don’t give up on my boy just yet, okay?”

Dean nodded and kissed your palm. You figured he hadn’t spoken in a while because he was choking back tears of his own that were now beginning to slip down his cheeks.

“And when you’re scared, talk to me. Please. Please, just talk to me,” you implored. “I know you say you’re not good at the ‘touchy-feely’ or whatever, but you don’t have to do this alone. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, voice rough with emotion. 

You pulled his face down to yours and kissed him gently, savoring the way Dean’s lips felt against yours; soft and pillowy in contrast to the rough stubble in your hands given he hadn’t shaved in a few days. When you pulled away, he kept you close to him by your waist. “Talk to me, baby. I’m here for you always. Even when you’re gone,” you said. “I… I don’t know what it’s like down there. But if you can talk, talk to me. Tell me what it’s like. Tell me when it hurts and when you’re scared. Because you are never alone.”

Dean rested his forehead against yours and shut his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you,” he murmured. 

You tilted your chin up and kissed the tip of his nose. “You didn’t have to do anything. You deserve love, Dee. Just for simply being you.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, his voice conveying every bit of brokenness he was feeling. 

Dean was averting his eyes from your face, but you returned your hands to either side of his face and made him look at you. “Because you are the most… loving man I have ever met.”

When he shook his head and tried to look away, you kept him in his place. 

“No, look at me,” you continued tearfully. “Remember when I told you I didn’t know what love felt like? ‘Cause of my parents and all that?”

Dean nodded. 

“I know what it feels like now. Because of you,” you told him, an emotional smile tugging on the corners of your lips. “You… are changing me. For the better. And I’m gonna tell you something stupid and cliche—”

“Oh, god—” he groaned, chuckling.

“—so just brace yourself, okay?” you laughed, sniffling. “To know you is to love you. I’m dead serious. And I know you don’t believe me. I know you see yourself, like… like a weapon. The way your dad raised you…” you shook your head, feeling yourself become angry that Dean was raised similarly to you. “I mean, he pretty much trained you to hate yourself. But you are so much more than what he made you believe you are.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known,” you continued. “I mean, I’m fucking pissed at you for throwing yourself in the line of fire, but I know why you do it. Because you love me. And you love Sam. And as much as it infuriates me, you’d rather die than watch Sam or I do so.” You snorted, “I mean, that’s why we’re in this deal situation to begin with, right?” pulling a chuckle from Dean. 

“So can you do something for me?” you asked.

“Anything if it’ll get you to shut up,” he smirked, and you knew it was because he couldn’t handle much more verbal affection. 

“Start treating you the way I see you,” you said. “Like… treat yourself like you matter. ‘Cause you do. And I love you.”

His face was contorted in a confusing mix of discomfort from the onslaught of affirmation, love for you, and what seemed like pride in hearing you talk about him like that. 

“Can you do that for me?” you asked. 

Dean nodded. “I’ll try.”

***

The next night, you and the boys were regrouping in the motel room following having searched the city for Gordon all day long. A little over two hours ago, you’d returned from getting new phones for you and the brothers in an attempt to avoid Gordon tracking you through the SIM cards on your original devices, and it seemed the two boys had a deep conversation while you were gone. For that, you were thankful; the two had needed to hash it out for a while now. 

Much to your surprise, your phone rang. 

“You've had that phone two hours, (Y/N),” Sam said, confused. “Who'd you give the number to?”

“Nobody,” you replied, mirroring his surprise. “Hello?” you answered the phone. 

“Hi, sweetie.”

You turned to the boys and put your phone on speaker. “How’d you get this number?” you asked, stepping back from the phone as if Gordon could jump out and hurt you through it. 

“Your scent's all over the cellphone store,” Gordon explained. He seemed to realize you had put him on speaker. “Gotta tell you, Dean, your girl smells good. Of course, I can't smell her now. Where are you?”

Dean’s jaw clenched in fury, and he spat, “Well, I guess you'll just have to find us, won't you.”

“I’d rather you come to me,” Gordon replied smoothly. 

“What's the matter, Gordo? You're not afraid of us, are you? We're just sitting here. Bring it on!” Dean challenged. 

“I don't think so.” 

Then, you heard the voice of a woman crying through the phone. 

Your eyes widened slightly in fear for the girl, and Gordon shushed the girl on the other end of the line. “Factory on riverside off the turnpike. Be here in twenty minutes, or the girl dies.”

“Gordon, let the girl go,” Dean asserted. “Bye, Dean,” Gordon said.

“Gordon!” Dean yelled, stopping him from hanging up the call. “Don't do this. You don't kill innocent people. You're still a hunter.”

“No,” he chuckled coldly. “I'm a monster.” And with that, he hung up. 

***

“I’m gonna waste that fucker, I swear,” you growled as you helped Sam and Dean untie the girl Gordon had kidnapped. 

“Hey, we got you,” Sam told her. “Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here.” He gave her a few instructions to begin leading her out of the factory. 

The woman sobbed, and the poor thing could barely walk. Dean cradled her in his arms, instructing you and Sam to stay close. Unfortunately, the two of you were not close enough. A door slid closed from above, cutting you and Sam off from Dean. 

“Sam!” Dean yelled. “(Y/N)!”

“Dean!” you cried, pushing at the door. 

Sam pounded the door in frustration. You gave it one final kick, which you knew was pointless, but it helped to get a little anger out. 

“Both of you; be careful!” Dean instructed through the door. 

Then, the lights went out. 

“Sam!” you called through the darkness. 

“Right here!” 

You followed his voice till you were back-to-back with him, the two of you trying your best to get your bearings in the dark. 

“Sorry, sweetie, didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this,” Gordon spoke through the darkness, his voice still hauntingly even as ever. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you hissed. 

“Gordon! You got me where you want me. You might as well come out and fight!” Sam asserted. 

Suddenly, Gordon’s voice seemed to be between your and Sam’s head. “I'm right here, Sam.”

The two of you swished your machetes, the two hitting each other and igniting sparks for a brief moment. 

“What's the matter, Sammy?” Gordon chuckled. 

“So, this is really the way you want to do it, huh?” Sam taunted despite his growing anxiety. 

“Damn right I do,” Gordon snarled. “You have no idea what I faced to get here. I lost everything. My life. But it's worth it, 'cause I'm finally gonna kill the most dangerous thing I ever hunted. You're not human, Sam.”

“Look who's talking,” you replied.

“You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer.” Gordon’s voice sounded like it was coming from every direction.

“Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice,” Sam said, back still pressed to yours. 

“I don't,” Gordon responded. 

“Yes you do, Gordon. You didn't kill that girl.”

“No, I didn't. I did something much, much worse.” You could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” you cursed. 

“Remember what happened the last time you talked bad about my mother, (Y/N)?” the vampire taunted, voice sounding in front of you. 

You swiped at the darkness, but Gordon was too fast for you. 

“I got to hand it to you, Sam,” Gordon began. “You got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna… as soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds. Killing you, and killing myself.”

“You fucker!” you charged right where you’d nailed Gordon’s voice down as emanating from as he spoke, and you tried to swipe at him. Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get to Gordon fast enough. He sent you flying through the door you’d been separated from Dean by, and you collapsed to the floor in a painful heap. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean cried. 

“I’m fine!” you yelled back, trying your best to brush it off. Your whole body hurt like hell, but you would not be useless in this fight. You grabbed your machete just in time to see Gordon fling Sam across the room. 

Dean aimed the Colt at Gordon’s head, but Gordon wheeled around to grab Dean’s arm. He threw your partner against the wall and pinned him, sinking his teeth into Dean’s neck. 

“No!” you screamed, throwing yourself at Gordon. You managed to get your arm around his neck and pull him to the ground with you. Much to your chagrin, Gordon recovered quickly, and he immediately tried to get a bite in at your neck. With an almost delighted smile, you slashed at Gordon’s head. It rolled away from you, and the rest of Gordon’s body slumped to the ground next to you. 

You didn’t take more than a moment to catch your breath before you staggered to your feet to help your boys. 

Sam was still in a heap on the floor trying to catch his breath, and Dean clutched his neck in pain. Despite the pain in your own body, you staggered toward Sam to help him up. The two of you groaned as you did so, and he threw an arm around your shoulders for support. Dean staggered to you, too, and the three of you stumbled off; each trying to support the other’s weight.

***

Somewhere between cities, Dean pulled off to the side of the road due to a rattling noise coming from under the hood and worked away at it. Meanwhile, you took three beers out of the cooler. You passed one to Dean when you’d opened it for him, and Sam sat on the lid of the cooler while he drank his. 

“Thanks,” Dean smiled lopsidedly at you. 

“Figure out what's making that rattle?” the younger brother asked. 

“Not yet. Give me a box wrench, would you?” 

Sam rifled through the toolbox and handed it to his sibling. 

Dean thanked him but paused, looking thoughtful. “Sam,” he said. 

“Wrong one?” 

“No, no, no, come here for a second.”

Sam looked confused, but he got up and leaned under the hood with Dean. 

You looked on, a smile pulling at your lips, and you replaced Sam on the cooler’s lid. 

“This rattle could be a couple of things. I'm thinking it's an out-of-tune carb,” Dean began to explain, gesturing to something within the car you couldn’t see. 

Sam still looked confused. “Okay.” “Alright, see this thing?” Dean gestured to something else. “It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench.”

Sam did so. 

“Alright, you with me so far?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads.”

“Very good,” Dean nodded. “Now this is your intake manifold, okay, and on top of it?” He paused, looking at Sam expectantly. Sam smiled, trying to remember. “It's, uh, uh, a carburetor.”

Dean nodded, repeating the word. “Very good.”

“What's with the auto shop?” Sam asked. 

Dean held out the socket wrench to Sam, ignoring his question. 

“What, you don't mean you want—” 

Dean cut his brother off. “Yeah, I do. You fix it.”

“Dean, you barely let me drive this thing.”

The older man shrugged. “Well, it's time. You should know how to fix it. You're gonna need to know these things for the future.”

Your heart clenched at Dean’s admission. 

“And besides, that's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?” he continued. 

Sam nodded and took the wrench, swallowing down a little emotion. Even still, he leaned under the hood and started unscrewing. 

Dean gestured for you to stand. He took your place on the cooler and patted his thigh. Happily, you perched atop it, and the two of you watched Sam. 

Dean took a sip of his beer, lazily stroking your hip. “Put your shoulder into it,” he instructed Sam.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[valentine-cafe]

I wanna see some of your characters (*any* of your characters honestly, i'm not that picky and theyre all attractive anyway😍) and their first time bottoming for dom!top male reader because ive been going through that tag specifically and i would just love more of that typa content with your characterss

(Ps. Ive been reading your works for a while now and i gotta say im a huge fan)

. ˚◞♡ 𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆◞ ₊˚

𖹭. a selection of characters when you top them for the first time /top male!reader

꒰ EEE we’re so happy that you like our content! we wanted to write this with all the characters but who knows how long that would take us sobs - might redo this req in the future with even more! BUT YES MORE TOP MALE READER <3 . . . might have gone a bit wild with rishen 1311 ꒱

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ ALESSIO 781 ꒱ is someone that people tend to forget is a switch. top-leaning, yes, but a switch no less. he’s gotta really trust you in order to let you take control though. but when you do? he makes you work for it. the first time you topped him was a late night in his apartment. both of you kissing and making out on the sofa after playing a few games. the last thing he expected was for you to actually fight him for dominance. it was thrilling - but what was even more thrilling was when you won.

admittedly he was a little nervous. it was so new. seeing the cocky merc now gripping onto your arms and looking at you with those glassy emerald eyes of his. “stop if I tell you to - okay?”

but oh he wouldn’t even dream of telling you to stop. he was squirming and creaming everywhere by the time you fucked the bratiness out of him. which took quite a bit in all honesty.

but when you had him there. pinned to his bed and pounding into him from behind. so that all he could do was cling onto the sheets and let out all sorts of noises of pleasure. his deep voice now pitched. whiney.

“a-amor - d-dios amoorcittooo,” he whines out as you milk another orgasm out of him. all while he whimpers for you to fill him up again. splutters about being a good boy for you. it’s like a complete switch up when you get him under you — and the poor thing cums like a fountain.

he wants you to manhandle him. to be rough. mean. put him in his place and make him feel vulnerable — because he let you. and he wants you to fuck him until he’s on a verge of tears. might as well make the most of it, yeah?

mercenary x reader, antihero x reader, enigma x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHIMA 781 ꒱ would be quite the surprise for you as well. one would think that someone of her demeanour is a top dom, right? she’s a switch — she can quickly flip between being the mommy making you hump her high heel or the pillow princess.

listen, she also needs some taking care of. especially with how hard she works. so when you offered to top for the first time she wasn’t too opposed. doesn’t mean she didn’t make you work for it a little.

she can be a brat too — but one who backs off immediately when they know they’ve met their match. needless to say, when you had her bouncing on your dick and digging her black nails down your shoulders and back, she had long since given in.

“f-fuck - fuck anh doll - please - please can’tcantt-” she’d bury her face into your neck to try and hide her noises. you’d have to stop her from rolling her hips down and trying to please you instead. murmuring to her ear about how tonight was about her.

you’d push her into the pillow eventually. letting her rest comfortably while you did the work. being mindful of how overstimulated she can get and making sure to eat her out nice and slowly when it was all over. all so she could gasp into the air about how perfect you were while clinging onto your hair and whimpering.

scientist x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHEN 209 ꒱ is another switch but god is this man a brat. he’s awful. riling you up in so many different ways because he wants to see just how far he can push you. because he’s in for it. whatever your kink is — so is his. he’ll go to the extremes and he wants to know just how far you go too.

so imagine his surprise when you pinned him over his examination table. pushing the dress he’d worn for work up and spanking his red-laced ass. how you tied his hands behind his back with his lab coat. pushing into him without a care and rutting his poor, bratty hole until he was creaming all over.

he’s sensitive. beyond sensitive. by the second climax he’d be whining for you. spluttering out apologies and trying to earn your favour. if only to grin at you all tiredly and splutter out a firm no when you asked if he was “really sorry?”

strap his wrists down to that examination table and make him fuck his hips back into you. make him work for it as he cries and whines to cum. because here's a beautiful thing about the scientist - he can’t make himself cum.

“p-please- por favor p-porr favv- hngh b-baby I - I’ll be good pleaseplease hnnhh need t-to cum so bad.”

be rough with him. force him to his knees and fuck his throat. he’ll look at you with pretty maroon eyes and beg even more. all so that you can ram him on your cock again and make him squirt until he’s seeing stars. make him feel helpless. make him feel like all he’s good for is clenching around your dick and cumming all over himself. he’ll love you for it.

mad scientist x reader, moth-mantis-spider monster x reader, yandere x reader, villain x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ HAITĀO 99484 ꒱ is a bottom who was more than thrilled to have you top. he did inform you of his scoliosis before hand, reminding you that while he did have quite the stamina as a reaper, to just not overdo it because of the pains in his back.

as such you’d make sure to lay him back nice and comfortably. your first time with him was rather slow and tender. mostly because you were a little afraid of hurting him.

he’s whiney. vocal. making sure that you know just how much he’s enjoying it. the way he keeps pressing desperate little kisses down your throat and stirring his hips up into you tells you that he wants you to feel just as good.

might at one point beg to take a break just so he can suck you off for a bit. he loves the feeling of your hand in his hair and gently guiding him. and his mouth? fuck it was heaven, he definitely knows what’s doing.

would eventually offer to ride you after. which you were a little hesitant about because of his condition — but he assured you that he’d be fine. so the night would drone on with your back against the headboard and arms hooked around you. kissing and whining into each other’s mouths as he bounces at the pace you set for him.

“s-s’good gege - gege,” he whines, creaming all over your abdomen again as he rocks his hips sloppily. “m-more please - please gege, promise I won’t break, please?”

grim reaper x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ YIZÉ 9948E ꒱ is another switch who really loves the rough treatment. he really likes the fighting for dominance. however, he might find himself in some conditions where he just wishes to be pampered and taken care of.

your first time topping was the former. he’s a mercenary and a reaper — he had you pinned and taking his dick first - if only for the tables to be turned before he even knew it. slammed into the sheets and forced to stay still as you snatched a pair of handcuffs he always seems to keep in his drawer.

oh he loved the way you took charge. how you degraded him. bit into his neck and shoulders. spanked and clawed and made his eyes roll back as you pounded him into his own sheets.

all so that he was drooling. all so that he could barely whine out your name. and when you’d slow - thinking he had enough?

why he’d grunt at you to keep going. maybe even call you a bit of a coward.

“wh-what? done? can’t fuck me right yeah?” would quickly turn into a series of gasps and sobs and - “s-sorryssooryy b-baby sorry I’m sorry nhhgfuck fuck! please!”

hes’s a loud one. that much you’d garner. until you fucked his mind numb and he was left to aimlessly cling to you. begging you not to stop. . . even if he blacked out. he’s a wild.

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ RISHEN 1311 ꒱ is a switch who just yearns to be taken care of. he wants it rough yeah, he’ll fight you for it a bit. but you know what? someone of his stressful work life and always having to be the one in control. . . he really wants to let go for someone.

he wants you to take it from him though. he doesn’t want you to be gentle — he’ll tell you that too. tell you that he wanted you to claw, and bite and take.

so when you yanked him by the hair and pushed him up against his desk - making him stand on his high heels as you leaned him over edge. pressing into his front and shoving your tongue down his throat. . . oh he was in heaven. how you gripped at his jaw and made him keep eye contact with you. ordered him too.

how you shoved his panties off to his thighs and mocked him for the lace. he’d be whining for you before you even put it in.

don’t expect him to be so pliant though. he’s got quite the sharp tongue. maybe he just likes the thought of riling you up too.

“that all you got?” “fuck hurry up.” just to see how he gets to you. but that would all fade the moment you’re fucking up into him. forcing his leaning body to steady itself on those high heels that are stained with the number of times both of you have come.

he’ll rake his nails down your shoulders. try to hold his sounds until you’re yanking him by the hair and encouraging him. make him ride you while you sit on his chair. fuck him until he’s squirming and telling you its too much. because it’s never too much. you can tell each time you try with withdraw and he instead pushes his hips down and forces his ass flush against your dick. squirming.

“f-fuck me - fuckmeeplease dios lo n-necesito tanto.” ( “god please I need it so bad” )

he’ll let you take him back to his apartment to go at it again. fuck him into his sofa, his bed, anywhere you want. he’s all yours. always. and god is he touch-starved enough to keep reminding you of that. even when he’s all covered in your cum.

assassin x reader, spy x reader, admiral x reader

 

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ DENARA 9819 ꒱ is a bottom who really wants to make you feel good and might tire herself out in the process. she’s so used to pressure and having to perform well so during your first time topping her you had to quite literally pin her down and tell her to stop. tell her that you were gonna take care of her. that she needs to relax and just let you fuck her the way she wants.

and oh once you got that out of the way she was all over you. denara is a freak. you got a kink? sure, she’ll try it out. her only request is that you fuck her dumb and drooling.

she was so loud when you took control and drove her into the sheets. admittedly she kept whining about wanting to ride you so eventually you let it happen. pulled her onto your lap and bounced her on your cock. didn’t even give her a smidge of control. watching as her tits bounced and her thighs jiggled as she whined for you.

“b-baby babybabyyy y-you’re sosooo mean angh- mnhhhhgg-”

she wants you to be mean though. wants you to pull at her hair. smack her. grab her. anything you want. all so that she can look at you with her black eyes all teary and her make-up all messy.

will probably beg to suck at your dick so give her that at least. you’ll end up fucking her throat anyway and making her cum untouched. if only to flip her onto her tummy again and fuck her until she’s drooling and whining.

she’ll probably hump at your thigh somewhere through the night when it’s all over. just desperate for more.

sorcerer x reader, healer x reader

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Uh-Oh

Summary: Javi's Girl Dad skills get put to the ultimate test when your oldest daughter gets her period and you're not home to help her

Word Count: 2.9K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Periods/getting a period for the first time, Javi being the ultimate Girl Dad, the Peña girls being the queens of sass, teamwork makes the dream work, just cute, sweet fluff 🥺😭

A/N: We all know that Girl Dad! Javi lives rent free in my brain, and as I was buying more tampons for myself today my brain went "Oh my god... could you imagine if Osita wasn't home when Lucy got her period and Javi, Elliot and Harper had to try and help her until Osita got home?" 😂😩 And of course, our elite girl dad would do anything he needed to in order to step up and make sure that his lil girl was okay 😭 This was also super fun to write because I feel like the girl's spunky personalities really shine through in this one 💀

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Mom? Mooommm?!” 

“Why do you need Mom?” Elliot responded to her older sister, Lucy, frantically calling out for you from behind the bathroom door. 

“I just- I- Will you please just go get Mom, okay?! I really need her.”  Lucy sighed, panic filling her voice with every passing second it took for her sister to answer her request. Normally Elliot wouldn’t have been so quick to comply without haggling to negotiate a favor on her end, but even the 11 year old could sense the pure terror in her older sister’s voice. 

“Fine, fine.” Elliot huffed, making her way to her other sister’s room down the hall, pushing open Harper’s door to rally her for support. “Harper. Go help me find Mom.” 

“Why?” Harper asked, giving her sister a confused look as she set down the stuffed animals she was playing with on her bed. 

“Because, Lucy sounds like she’s having a mental breakdown in the bathroom and she needs mom’s help.” 

“Do you think she pooped her pants?!” Harper looked at Elliot with a disgusted and confused grimace on her face, the girls pausing for a moment to shake their heads in horror at the potential current state of their sister. 

“She did sound really upset… I don’t know Harps, just go look for Mom, okay?!” 

The girls quickly split, Harper taking the rest of the rooms upstairs while Elliot sped down the stairs to see if you were anywhere on the first floor. 

“Mom?! Mommy are you down here?!” 

After many years of raising 3 girls under the same roof, the two of you had learned how to tell the difference in your girls’ tone to distinguish what they wanted you for- Tattling, excitement, annoyance, you and Javi had pretty much heard it all. But the way that Elliot was calling out for you immediately caught Javi’s attention. 

Someone was in big trouble. 

“What’s up, El?” Javi called out wearily from the living room, lowering the volume on the TV as his daughter came speeding in, fear flooding her face. 

“Where’s mom?!” Elliot demanded, looking around the room for any sight of you. Her worried tone quickly had Javi up and off the couch, scrunching his brow at Elliot in concern at what kind of trouble the girls had gotten themselves into that they were so frantically looking for you. 

“Mom’s at the store. What’s going on?” Javi asked again, trying to keep even keeled, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at his daughter. 

“I don’t know, I swear! Lucy just kept calling for Mom from the bathroom. She sounded really freaked out, though. Harper and I think she shit her pants.” Elliot replied, holding up her hands in defense to rid herself of any potential blame, trying to keep from giggling at her last sentence. 

“Elliot Marie.” Javi groaned, rolling his eyes at her. “You said she’s in the bathroom?”  

Elliot nodded, giving a little shrug for her lack of clarity around her sister’s current circumstances. Letting out a little sigh, Javi reached over for the remote on the couch, turning off the TV before making his way up the stairs to find out what in the world was going on. 

Javi, Elliot and Harper now found themselves gathered around the outside of the bathroom door in confusion, Javi gently tapping on the door before speaking. “Hey Lucy, it’s me. What’s goin’ on, bud?” 

“Where’s Mom?!” Lucy replied, sounding like she was trying her best to hold back her sobs, muffled from behind the bathroom door. 

“She’s at the store right now, babe. What’s going on?” Javi asked again, looking down at Harper and Elliot who were looking back up at him, the 3 of them perplexed as to why Lucy was so distraught. 

“Did you poop your pants?!” Harper shouted, trying her best to ask seriously, although the two girls on the outside of the bathroom door couldn’t help but snicker to themselves. Javi groaned, rolling his eyes at Elliot and Harper, taking his hand to shoo them away, silently mouthing “Seriously?! Go play.” as the girls scampered away in a fit of giggles to Elliot’s room, leaving just Javi outside the door, waiting for a response. 

“... I really need Mom.” Lucy choked out through her tears as Javi leaned against the door, running his hand over the back of his neck in a mix of bewilderment and frustration until his realization hit him like a ton of bricks, his face going ghost white in terror. 

Lucy got her fucking period and you weren’t home. 

Javi could feel himself physically starting to sweat in panic trying to figure out what the hell to do. Even if he called you to come home, you probably still weren’t going to be back for another 45 minutes, and he wasn’t going to let his daughter sit in the bathroom horrified and alone until you returned. Letting out the deepest sigh he could muster, Javi knew his only option was to do this on his own, and hope he didn’t traumatize his oldest daughter, or die of embarrassment in the process. 

“Uh… Lucy, I’m really sorry but Mom’s not- shit- You… You’re gonna have to trust me to help you though this one, bud.” Javi grimaced, wincing at his own words, wondering to himself how he was going to get himself and his daughter through this. 

A stark silence hug in the air between them, barricaded by the bathroom door as Javi anxiously bounced his leg, waiting for Lucy to say something, anything, back to him. “How do you know what’s going on?” Lucy questioned hesitantly, probably still just as in shock as Javi was that the two of themselves were stuck in this situation together. 

“I uh- I’m just assuming because you wanted Mom- and uh, you’re- you’re in the bathroom and that you’re upset that you got your per-” 

“EW DAD?! Don’t say it!! That’s so weird!!” Lucy snapped from the other side of the door, Javi automatically holding up his hands in defense and taking a step back from the bathroom, taking a moment to carefully choose his next words before speaking again. 

“Sorry, sorry. Uh, kiddo, listen, I can call Mom but she’s not gonna be home for a while and I- I can’t just let you sit in there until she comes back. Can I- will you let me help you?” Javi asked, preemptively wincing, bracing himself for Lucy’s reply. 

“Yeah, I- I guess. Just please don’t be weird, Dad, I’m literally already gonna die of embarrassment and that’s without your help.” Lucy groaned, accepting defeat that she was going to have to let her Dad, of all people, help her through her unfortunate circumstances. Javi let out a sigh of relief that he at least wasn’t going to have to fight with Lucy or leave her stranded in the bathroom, but as he sat and thought about the fact that he was going to put a plan into action… Given the choice between this and chasing down Pablo Escobar or the Cali Cartel? Javi would have been on the first flight back to Colombia. 

“Okay, let me uh… I’ll um- give me one second okay?” 

“Not like I was planning on going anywhere else anytime soon.” Lucy grumbled, just loud enough for Javi to hear as he sped to Elliot’s room, where he found his other two daughters blissfully unaware of what was happening, building some sort of creation out of Legos. 

“Girls, you gotta go do something for me okay?” Javi pleaded, leaning in the doorframe of the bedroom, looking down at his daughters on the floor, pausing their Lego construction, their dad now capturing their attention. 

“Okay.” The girls said in unison, giving their dad a little shrug of compliance. 

“Can you uh-” Javi ran his hand over his red face, trying to find the least mortifying way to ask his daughters to help, “Can you guys go to Lucy’s room and get her a pair of underwear?” 

“EW GROSS DAD.” The girls shrieked, sticking out their tongues in disgust and Elliot pretending to vomit to add to the effect. 

“You guys… Can you just- please?” Javi practically begged, trying his best to keep calm and blow things even more out of proportion than they already felt like they were. Elliot and Harper sat quietly for a moment, the gears in their head visibly turning before Elliot spoke again. 

“...What’s in it for us?” Elliot asked, tilting her head and shrugging at her sister, too smart for her own good to ever pass up on an opportunity to bargain her way into a better deal. 

“Helping your sister.” Javi gruffed, impatient for his daughter’s negotiating antics as his other daughter sat helpless in the bathroom. Elliot and Harper both raised an eyebrow at their dad, sitting on the floor in a determined silence to get something in exchange for Javi’s proposal. “... 5 bucks for each of you, fair?” 

“5? Seems a little low for such a risky task.” 

“Fine, 10, now go so we can help your sister.” 

The girls gave each other a quiet high five before pushing up off the floor and racing past Javi out of the bedroom door towards their sister’s room, Harper’s voice carrying down the hallway. 

“I told you she pooped her pants!” 

Now having figured out one part of his predicament, Javi made his way back to the bathroom door to check on Lucy as he waited for Elliot and Harper to return. “Hey Lucy… You… You doin’ okay?” Javi asked, his hand brushing through the dark ends of his curls at the back of his neck. 

“Yeah… NEVER been better.” Lucy groaned, her voice oozing with sarcasm, a trait she had so lovingly inherited from you, and something Javi couldn’t even come close to being upset with her about, given her current situation. Before Javi could respond, Elliot and Harper were barreling down the hallway, Elliot holding out a hockey stick with a pair of underwear hooked at the end, Javi shaking his in disbelief. 

“Seriously, El?” Javi gestured at the hockey stick Elliot had passed off to Harper, now stretching it even further in front of her to distance herself from her sister’s underwear, using the other hand to plug her nose. 

“What?! Desperate times call for desperate measures, Dad. It was actually Harper’s idea.” The girls nodded proudly at their accomplishment, Harper freeing her hand from her nose to fist bump her sister at the execution of their plan. 

“Jesus Christ…” Javi muttered to himself under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his temples, “Okay, Lucy? I’m gonna open the door enough so that your sisters can drop a new pair of underwear in there for you, alright?” 

“DAD!” 

“SORRY!” Javi groaned, trying his best to restrain his frustration from how stressed he was, surrounded by all 3 of his daughters trying to manage the biggest crisis he had dealt with to date. Barely opening the door a crack, Javi pointed to Harper to sneak the hockey stick through the empty space, turning it over in hopes that the underwear had fallen to the floor for her sister to grab. 

“Harper that’s my new stick! Are you serious?!” Lucy shouted through the opening in the door, as if she needed another reason to be more enraged than she already was. Harper quickly jerked the stick back, slamming the door behind her, dropping it on the floor out of guilt before shouting back. 

“Sorry! I didn’t wanna touch your underwear, that’s gross dude.” 

“You got me dirty underwear, are you kidding Harper?!” 

“No they’re clean, but like… They’re underwear, it’s nasty. Your butt touches it.” 

“True that.” Elliot chimed in, leaning against the wall behind her dad and Harper, adamantly nodding in agreement at her younger sister’s reasoning. 

“This is literally the worst day in the history of the world.” Lucy groaned in dismay, Javi now recognizing the soft sobs of his daughter return, his heart breaking and his brain fried at how he was going to manage the rest of this shit show until you got home. Javi tried to shoo away Elliot and Harper once again, but not before Elliot could rub the tips of her fingers and thumb together,  silently asking for her promised $10 from her dad. Javi frowned, shaking his head no, Elliot getting the hint enough that now perhaps was not the best time to collect her payment. Tugging at her sister’s sleeve, Harper dragged Elliot back to her room, trying to distance herself from her angry sister as much as possible, once again, leaving Javi and the closed bathroom door with his daughter locked behind it. 

Javi leaned his forehead against the door, his face buried in his palms letting out a few deep inhales and exhales to maintain his composure, given the fact that he hadn’t even gotten to the part of helping Lucy she legitimately needed. 

“You okay, bud?” 

“No. What kind of question is that, Dad?” 

“Touché.” 

“Okay so… so- what- what do I do now?” Lucy asked, her voice quickly shifting from sass to scared, her words meek and timid as she waited for any sort of guidance about what to do. There was nothing that broke Javi’s heart more than seeing any of his girls anything but happy, and to hear the terror in Lucy’s voice made him absolutely crumble, especially when he definitely was not the ideal person to be aiding in this situation. 

“Okay, well, uh- in the cabinet under the sink, there should be a pink box and a purple box in the back corner of the second shelf. Can um- can you uh, check to see if you can find them?” 

A soft rustling came from behind the door as Lucy rummaged through the bathroom cabinet, the sound of several items falling to the floor in her scramble. “Okay, I- um, I found them. Which box do I use? Do I use both?” 

“Purple. Take one out of the purple box.” Javi quickly responded, letting out a panicked gulp, wanting to make sure he was not adding to his already detrimental embarrassment of having to explain tampons to his daughter. “Okay uh- Jesus- okay you, um- you gotta just uh, pull the little paper part off the back…” He paused, trying to give time for Lucy to follow his inadequate directions, taking her silence as his cue to continue, “and then it should be sticky. And then um, then you gotta, uh- take the sticky side and-” 

“Okay, yup, got it, please don’t say anymore.” Javi could practically feel Lucy wincing at his directions, leaving him anxiously drumming his fingers along his forearms as the toilet flushed and sink ran, the bathroom door slowly creaking open to reveal a very sheepish and embarrassed Lucy, eyes pinned to the ground to avoid any direct contact with her dad’s. 

“Hey kiddo,” Javi grimaced, trying his best to casually greet his daughter, trying his best to keep things from getting any less weird than they already were, “How you uh, how ya-” 

“Dad,” Lucy interrupted, holding up her hand to stop her dad, “I love you, and thank you, but I don’t wanna talk about this ever ever again, okay?” 

“Understood.” The two nodded in a silent agreement, eyes still peeled in separate directions as Lucy sped off to her room, promptly closing the door behind her with a loud slam, leaving Javi alone and flabbergasted, sinking down with his back against the wall trying to process the shit storm that had just blown through the Peña household. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in an uncomfortable silence between Javi and the girls, his only peace offering being to bring back 3 bags worth of McDonald’s nuggets and fries, knowing that if Lucy was anything like you, the only thing that was going to bring her any sort of joy from her period pain was endless amounts of deep fried, crispy, salty potatoes, and that fast food (on top of their 10 dollars) was enough bribery to keep Elliot and Lucy from harassing their sister about the events of this morning. 

When you arrived home, you were surprised to be greeted by nothing but the sound of the TV, setting your bags down at the front door as you made your way to the living room where you found Javi and the girls sitting on the couch, McDonald’s bags placed in between the uncharacteristically hardy distance now dividing your husband and daughters. 

“Hey you guys, how’s it going?” You asked hesitantly, shooting Javi a concerned look at your family’s current set up. 

“It’s uh…” Javi paused, looking back over at his girls, all 3 of them burning menacing glares at their dad to keep him from spilling the beans on this morning’s circus, “It’s been an interesting day.” 

You cocked your head to the side, feeling even less reassured by the uncomfortable tension brewing in your living room, Javi and the girls now looking even more awkward and apprehensive than they had a few moments ago. You tried to give each of them the silent stare down to see if any of them would break, but whatever pact they had formed before your arrival was holding strong, no one cracking under your investigative pressure. 

“Okay… Well, if you guys wanna tell me about it then-” 

“NO.” Your daughters shouted in unison, frantically shaking their heads to stop your question. 

“Like I said…” Javi grumbled, “It’s been… a day.” 

Taglist

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko

[minimomoe]

First I wanted to say your writing is AMAZING and SO GOOD!!!! Like everytime I think you've written the best thing I've ever read, you update again and top it!!

Second, just a thought I had but I think it would be so funny if one of y/n's clients lived in the apartment complex and heard them after the events of not just neighbors and the bonus. Like she shows up to her appointment and is like "oh wow did you have an interesting night 😏"

Also second side note: I just know that y/n is an amazing braided and doesn't pull that bs these new stylist try talking about come blowed dried already, $150 deposit fee, late fees, and all that 💀

(I'm gonna hit each point out of order lol) but firstlyyy thank you babe for the kind words <<33 Reader is definitely a hairstylist who cares about her craft. I'm talking licensed professional who works at a salon so none of that instagram stylist nonsense. I'll give you a little drabble of how this throuple works out with that idea you have because I love it: tags: fluff, poolverine throuple relationship stuff, mentions of sex, 1.2k words Not Just Neighbors part: One & Two

Honey! You Forgot Your Lunch!

You rushed into the salon with your face hot and apologizing profusely. Nobody gave you a hard time for coming in ten minutes later than usual but you felt horrible doing so. In fact, the other stylists were glad to see that you were okay since it was the first time that you were ever late. It immediately sparked a conversation among them as they watched you practically sprint to your work station. Luckily for you, you didn't have a client to service for another ten minutes, so you had plenty of time to prep your area.

"Are you sick? You should stay home if you are, we got enough people to cover," one of your coworkers said.

"Ain't gonna blame you if you overslept. Lord knows I've done it a million times," another chuckled.

"I'm good, thank you. It was just a little hard to get out of bed this morning," you muttered. There was no way you were going to tell the older women of the salon that you were late because both of boyfriends are handsy as an octopus and couldn't let you go despite time running out. Wade requested a kiss before you left and you granted it, only for him to beg for another and another until your lips felt swollen. Logan had intended to give you a short kiss but became greedy until you were breathless. Your knees turned to jello around those men, and you became their breakfast they had to devour before you could step foot out of the door.

"Are you sure baby? Your eyes are bloodshot! And your voice sounds rough!"

Memories of tears burning your eyes as Logan stroked your cheek while your face was stuffed full of his cock flashed in your mind. You had to shake it out of your head. "I didn't sleep much last night. Insomnia."

"Chamomile tea is good for sleeping at night and it soothes the throat. I got a brew you'd like," said the loctician from the corner of the store.

"I would love to try it," you smiled.

Just then your client and downstairs neighbor waltzed through the salon and plopped straight into her seat.

"You look like shit," she snorted.

"Good morning to you too," you rolled your eyes. "I feel like shit but I couldn't let you down now could I?"

"You really can't. I won't go to anybody else."

"You've always been loyal."

You only took off her bonnet before she whipped around to stare at you with a playful look. You stared right back with a confused air around you. "What KC?"

"Is the reason you like shit have anything to do with all that noise I heard last night, perchance?"

"You can't just say 'perchance', and I have no idea of what you're talking about."

"Sure," KC dragged out with waggling eyebrows. "I heard some funny noises come from above me."

"Wrong bitch," you scoffed.

"Right bitch. My ceiling was practically shaking like an earthquake and you the one who lives above me."

"I really don't know what your talking about." You tried to divert the conversation to asking her about the hairstyle KC wanted down but you were not off the hook. KC and the rest of the salon were now interested in your late night activities and you did not want to tell them about your sex life.

"Oh come on, spill the deets! Is it someone we know? That last boyfriend you had was a piece of shit so I hope this guy is better. He sounds better at least. You were getting dicked down."

"Jesus, stop talking," you groaned. "Pretend like you didn't hear anything. I'll be more mindful of the noise, I promise."

"Somebody was getting busy!" One of the older stylists yelled and it got whoops from across the salon. You buried your face in your hands.

The bell at the front door rang to signal another customer walking in. You peeked through the gaps of your fingers only to find that Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett both strolled inside of your salon in search of you completely suited up.

"Hello ladies," Wade whistled. "Do any of you know my sugar plum? She's about yeigh tall with the prettiest brown eyes you have ever seen but will take you out by the knees if given the chance? Yes? No?"

Logan sighed at the useless description he gave and said your name. "We just want to drop off her lunch and tell her bye before we head off on another mission."

A stylist in the front pointed in your direction and you crossed your arms over your chest. "What in the world are you two doing here?"

"We tried to call and you didn't pick up," Logan answered. He handed you your lunch bag and you softened up.

"You guys made me lunch?"

"Pffft no," Wade laughed. "I can't cook for shit and I'm sure anything he makes will taste like an MRE. We got you your favorites and stuffed them all in there."

"Oh... well thank you." The gesture still touched your heart. You put the bag down on a counter and sighed. "So I won't be seeing you for a while?"

"I know you'll miss me so that's why I left a life sized cardboard cut out of me with a strap attachment at your place. It's size accurate, veins included," Wade nudged.

Logan smacked the back of Wade's head for you. "You know we don't know how long we'll be away so we wanted to see you in person before we leave. Make sure you take care of yourself, bub."

"I always do," you sighed. Wade lifted the bottom half of his mask to kiss one side of your face while Logan kissed the other, sandwiching you in affection. "Come back to me, alright?"

"Aye, aye captain," Wade saluted. It got a chuckle out of you as he marched away from you before turning back around.

"I'm not crying," He sniffled. "Why do you ask?"

"She didn't ask," Logan deadpanned.

"But she's crying!"

"I'm not crying," you laughed. "But I will miss you. Now go, save the world!"

"Rain check on our anniversary date, yeah? We should go to a haunted house if it's still October when we come back. Or go in your haunted house if you know what I mean."

Logan grabbed Wade by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the salon. You were left with a audience of eyes trained on you as you laughed at your boys leaving.

"The both of them... you get the both of them..." KC mumbled. "That's not fair. You can't have two boyfriends. Give me the red one."

"Nuh-uh, she can keep the red one. I want the hunk-ules in the yellow," the receptionist said.

"I love you guys, but no way. They're mine and they're stuck on me," you smirked.

"Oh you don't sound like you're playing," KC laughed. "Wait... that means that last night..."

"Shut up."

"The both of them were..."

"If you say another word you better find someone else to do your hair," you warned.

"You're a pro-freak! Two men at one time! You get down and dirty."

"I need to find a new salon to work at,” you grumbled.

“Oh no you don’t. What you need to do is tell us exactly how you met those men without missing a single thing.” The whole shop muttered in agreement with KC. You rolled your eyes.

“Fine, but can you sit normally so I can finally wash your hair?”

Not Just Neighbors part: One & Two

Hehehe thank you for reading loveliessss.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

[boughkeeping]

SOUR until SUGAR ☆

Suna rintarou x fem! reader

Fluff (⁠◡⁠ ⁠ω⁠ ⁠◡⁠).

For Minnie <3

You moved on, you really thought you did but seeing him happy with somebody else while you were still where you are now triggered something within you, well someone wishes to change that... A regular customer maybe?

/ Pls lemme know the artists @!

"Good morning" your coworker greeted you

"morning" you replied with a smile, for some reason today you felt like everything would go well.

You were in charge of taking orders today.

"Excuse me-" A familiar voice called out to you.

It was your ex, you were stunned you didn't know what to do unless he snapped you out of it again "Two strawberry shortcake, One latte and one Watermelons soda please." He only said that and returned to a table. With a girl.

Maybe your gut feeling that things would go right today wasn't correct after all.

"he didn't even say a hi... Of course why would he hah"

You wrote the order immediately down in a sticky note, you stole a glance at them before giving it to your coworker.

She was pretty, she really was. You felt she was even prettier than you taller than you and probably smarter than you too who knows.

You sighed and opened your phone to text your friend.

[You]

You won't believe ts,

I'm at work and for

some reason my ex who was in kyoto

Is in Tokyo's café where i work

Fml

[Friend]

WHAG

the odds are less but ever zero huh

GOOD LUCK

don't sweat it you guys ended it on

good terms isn't it?

Nth to worry abt

[You]

He's here with a girl :)

Probably new gf :))))

[Friend]

Oh....

Rip soldier ..

You closed your phone and almost went for a washroom break to bang your head on the wall but then the regular customer for 2 months walked in.

He approached the counter, "The regular?" You asked. He scratched his neck "Actually I have yet to decide" you handed him one of the sticky notes "After you decide you can write it here and bring it to me okay?"

40 seconds later he handed you the note.

Iced lemon soda

Blueberry cheesecake

You chuckled as you read it "he was going to write iced lemon soda anyway huh" then you saw there was an extremely scribbled line at the bottom you squinted your eyes but still couldn't read it.

That night you went home and devoured a whole box of ice cream watching comedy shows hoping it'll make you feel better.

The next day after school it started raining, it seems that the weather has been matching your mood lately and your bad luck has been consistent too, you held out a hand feeling the raindrops contemplating if you should wait till it stops or just run through it so you don't get late for work.

You sighed, you didn't want to get scolded by your manager again so you decided you'll just make a run for it, by running you'll reach there in 6 minutes of course it came with the risk of falling down and embarrassing yourself but you'd prefer that over getting scolded anyday.

Just as you put one foot into the slightly muddy ground something covered you from the above, a grey umbrella you turned your head to see it was the regular customer. "...what" it just came out of your mouth automatically. "Hm? Never seen me before?" He questioned, well you really didn't you entered this school only 4 months ago. "You go around here?" You asked. He smirked "That sounds like you're hittin' on me"

You raised your hand and waved it "huh no really.. I didn't know you studied here too.."

He just looked at the sky and then back at you "Well in any case we're heading the same way aren't we?"

"...to the café?" You asked. Just to be sure.

"Walking with me would be better than getting wet isn't it?"

Months passed and autumn arrived.

Of course you were working and he came again.

You walked to his table and folded your arms

"we're about to close"

"make some time for me yeah?" He put his one leg above the other.

Two people entered after him, it was your ex and that girl again.

You were less bothered by it this time because someone you knew was there. You tapped your feet "hurry I've gotta take orders of other people too y'know?"

He rested his chin on his hand "Actually I haven't decided yet"

You sighed and handed him a sticky note "you know what to do"

Before walking away you told him "It's my last day working here today by the way"

He hummed "My order today needs to be even more special then I guess"

After a minute he handed you the note.

Since you were already slightly annoyed and nervous from your ex and his girlfriend or whatever being there. You just handed the note to your co- worker who is also the manager without reading it. 4 seconds later she taps on your soldier "what is this..." You read it.

1 lemon iced soda

1 Jasmine milk tea

1 chocolate fudge

1 taro lava cake

1 chicken delight pizza

2 half cheese half sausage corn dogs and,

For the pretty cashier to share this with me

Custom order : her heart ♡

It was full of your favourite snacks from the café and most importantly what the hell was the last note, you immediately turned your face towards the opposite wall trying to hide your red face. Your manager sighed and put her hands on your shoulder. "Listen just go for it okay, you can take a leave today I won't reduce it from your paycheck"

"what????" You looked back at your manager, before you could say anything else she just pushed you "now off you go"

You pulled a seat in front of Suna and just sat there. "Why did you order so much? No way I can finish that" he leaned into the table now both his hands supporting his face. "I'll finish it for you then" you chuckled "like a trash panda?" He scoffed "yes. Like a trash panda."

Your gaze moved behind him, where your ex and his new girl were sitting Suna noticed that and his frown deepened he poked your cheek to face you towards him "How insulting, looking at others when I'm before you"

"I'm not..." You were about to pick your phone that was on the table to distract yourself but he pulled your phone back to him, you couldn't help but shamelessly notice his pretty hands "I'll repeat again, how can you focus on other things when I'm right here?"

Well let's say maybe you were gonna be getting a new boyfriend.

Everything felt sour until he added sugar.

[penkura]

Another Way

Summary: Garp had taken you and Luffy along to visit a country under Marine orders. While there you met a brother and sister who quickly became your friends.

Pairing: Law x Fem!Reader

Notes: Just an idea it had and decided to write up for Law’s birthday cause HE DESERVES TO BE HAPPY OKAY. ;3; I don't know if I might ever turn this into something more, but I just really wanted to write this, so I hope you all enjoy. 💚

“You’ll come back, yeah?”

“Mm…I bet grandpa will let me come with him again.”

The nod and grin you give him makes seventeen-year-old Law smile softly in return. It’s so strange how much you’ve come to like each other in the last two weeks you’ve been in Flevance, you never believed you’d find someone your own age to spend your time with, Law certainly didn’t expect to have immediate feelings for some random girl that showed up with her Marine grandfather. It was just a formality from the government, to ensure the people of Flevance were doing well after the sudden eradication of white lead disease, none of them sure what happened or why, but the Marines had been out several times to see how the country was doing.

Everyone was thriving, no one was fearful of the white spots across others faces and arms, residual marks that would stay, but didn’t signal illness anymore. The government dust it know what to think, they heard it from another marine that someone had saved the country, allegedly a boy with Devil Fruit powers, and that was four years ago.

Twice a year visits from an admiral or vice admiral, sometimes a small group of Marines that were available, to ensure all was still well. Garp ended up with it this time, you asking him to go along and Luffy deciding he wanted to also, Dragon wasn’t too keen on the idea but your puppy dog eyes convinced him.

You met Law the first day you arrived, two weeks ago. At first his mother was the one to ask him to show you and Luffy around, something he thought would be a pain until he actually met you. You were so much more than he expected, bright and friendly, you were so talkative and he didn’t mind it. Lami and Luffy spent most of their time playing together, you and Law would sit on a park bench like you are now, talking about practically anything.

“Think your dad might come next time?”

“Nah, dad won’t. He’s too busy with whatever it is he does.”

Law nods this time, watching Luffy and Lami chase each other down in a game of tag. You don’t really know what Dragon does, you just know he comes home twice a month and gives you and Luffy sweets from wherever he’s been. You told Law the day before that you’ll have to bring him a few sometime, they aren’t as sweet as they look and he seemed interested.

“I’ve had fun, the last few days.”

“I feel like I’ve bored you most of the time.”

Shaking your head, you scoot a little closer to Law, setting your hand on top of his that’s sitting on the bench.

“No, you’ve been great! I like hearing about the medical things you’ve learned, it’s really cool!”

Law nearly rolls his eyes, but keeps a smile as he holds your hand.

“You’re just being nice, I know it’s boring. Your brother fell asleep yesterday.”

“He’s ten, he doesn’t care about anything except playing Pirates. Your sister has been a great playmate for him.”

“That’s Lami for you…she’s really the sweetest person I’ve ever known.”

“Takes after her big brother then.”

“Oh shut up.”

Law shoves your shoulder a bit with his own, making you laugh as he does the same. You didn’t think you’d enjoy yourself so much the last two weeks, you only wanted to go for a vacation. Garp didn’t care, you and Luffy would find people to entertain you, and you did with Law and Lami. Their parents had been more than accommodating as well, inviting the three of you for dinner each night so far, you and Law taking walks with Luffy and Lami afterwards on your own until Garp is ready to take you back to the hotel.

“Your birthday is tomorrow, right?”

“Don’t get me anything.”

“I wasn’t gonna!” You laugh again as Law shakes his head at you, “I just heard your dad mention it before we left your house. Your mom already invited us over again.”

“Its cause she likes you, and my mentor is coming into town. I think she wants you to meet him.”

“Yeah? That’s really cool!”

“Yeah…he’s a marine too, he…really helped us years ago.”

Maybe Law will explain it one day, that he was the boy who suddenly had Devil Fruit powers and was able to save his family, friends, and home. Maybe he’ll tell you that story, the next time you come to visit, he may even ask you on a proper date without your siblings around too. He knows his mom keeps inviting you over because she’s trying to play matchmaker, he doesn’t even mind it, he really does like you.

He's pretty certain you like him too, especially when you lean your head on his shoulder after a few minutes, letting him lace your fingers together.

“I’m really glad I came here. Getting to meet and know you was worth it.”

“I’m glad I met you too…I—”

“See? I told you my brother likes your sister!”

“That’s so gross.”

Law releases your hand before standing up and turning around, face redder as he gives a scowl to Luffy and Lami, both of whom are grinning while you laugh.

“I thought you two were still playing!”

“I want dessert, Law!!”

Sighing, Law of course doesn’t shake Lami off when she grabs onto his arm and pouts, only asking what she wants instead.

“We want ice cream! Right, Luffy?!”

“Right!!” Luffy in turn comes around the bench and grabs onto your arm, pulling you up as you nod and give Law a smile.

“Guess we have no choice, huh?”

“Guess not.”

The younger two cheer, Lami takes Luffy’s hand and starts leading him towards the nearby ice cream shop. You and Law take your time catching up with them, you reach over and quietly take his hand again as you walk. You don’t care if Luffy thinks it’s gross, or if Lami might tease her big brother about it, you still want to enjoy the bit of time you have with Law before you leave for a while.

“I like you too, Law.”

He nearly flinches hearing you say that, only because it was unexpected, but it gives him a calm, warm feeling in his chest to hear it.

“Yeah…?”

“Yup,” you lean up and kiss his cheek, giving him a grin while he stares at you slightly wide eyed, “That can be your birthday gift, even though it’s early.”

Neither of you get to say anything more before Lami and Luffy call for you to hurry up, but you don’t let go of each other’s hand for even a second. Even though you’re leaving soon, Law intends to make the most of it, to make sure you know just how much likes you and wants to see you again.

He's definitely going to ask you on a date next time you’re in town.

[annievrse]

die for you

dazai x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: you and dazai sort out your little dispute. w/c: 1.4k c/w: mention of suicide, swearing, arguing, angst a/n: posting from the deep dark depths of hell (aka class). i literally have no idea what possessed me to write this - i was given orders in the dead of night.....

Sighing loudly, you glance at Dazai from your desk, your head resting on your folded arms.

“If you want something, you gotta use your words,” he says without looking up from his paperwork. You scowl at him, suspicious of why he’s so focused on something he despises.

Turning your head toward Atsushi’s desk, where the teenager is deep in concentration, his forehead creased and eyes squinting at his laptop screen, you call his name.

“‘Sushi,” you whisper, summoning him over.

Desperate for a distraction, Atsushi responds immediately, rolling his chair over to your desk. His knees bump into yours, and you roll back a little.

“What’s up?” he asks, toying with his tie. The suddenness of lasers on the back of your head makes you snicker.

Closing your eyes, you sigh again. “I’m so tired.”

Atsushi’s eyes widen, concern glazing over his expression. “Oh! Why? Did you not get enough sleep last night?”

“Something like that,” you mumble.

“Huh,” Atsushi contemplates, looking around the office. “I can see if Kunikida still has his blankets in the storeroom. Do you wanna nap?”

“No," Shaking your head, the corners of your lips turn upwards. "All I want is for someone to apologise."

The volume of your voice pushes Atsushi into speechlessness, his eyes darting behind you momentarily. "This sounds domestic..."

You wave your hand in dismissal, scoffing.

"Have you eaten?" you ask, peering at the clock. "Wanna get lunch?"

Atsushi shakes his head but awkwardly throws his thumb over his shoulder. "I should finish this. Kunikida will kill me if I don't."

You nod solemnly, watching your colleague roll back behind his desk. Rubbing your eye, you reluctantly turn your attention back to the man at the table 6 paces away.

He's ignoring you, even though it's his fault. You contemplate asking Dazai to get food with you, but you're mad. So, you roll your eyes and stand, reaching down the grab your bag strap.

"Okay, bye."

The office is silent as you leave, Kenji the only one returning your bid farewell.

Stomping down the stairs because the elevator doesn't allow you to express your frustration, you imitate Dazai's voice as you descend. "Oh, how was I meant to know? Blah, blah, blah-"

But your frown deepens as you exit the stairs on the level of the cafe. "Chuuya."

The redhead straightens at the sound of his name and spins around. "What do you want?" His eyes narrow at the sight of you.

You tilt your head, eyes lifting to the ceiling. "You're in my building. Shouldn't I be the one asking you?"

Rolling his eyes so far back you swear he can see his brain, Chuuya huffs and crosses his arms. "Boss put me in charge of watching the Agency for the day," he sighs, looking you up and down. "So far, it's boring and agitating."

"Yeah, well," you shrug, stepping up to the cafe counter. "That's what happens when you're unbelievably paranoid."

You can feel the heat radiating off Chuuya when you turn back to him after ordering. "Got a problem?"

"Where is he?"

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips. "Dazai is none of your business, and he's none of mine either."

Chuuya physically jerks, his eyes popping out of his head. "What?"

Again, you shrug one shoulder and make your way towards a booth, sliding into it. To your dismay, Chuuya slips into the opposite side.

"Yes?"

He shakes his head. "You and Dazai-"

"Are in an argument right now," You rest your chin on your palm. "So what he does is none of my concern."

"Please," Chuuya scoffs. "That guy is weirdly obsessed with you, and you know it, has been since I met the bastard."

You don't reply, thanking the waitress when she sets your cup and saucer on the table.

Meeting his eye, your shoulders drop. "What are you? A couples counsellor?"

Chuuya taps his foot relentlessly on the floor, and the sound drives you to kick his shin. "Fuck off!"

"Why are you talking to me?" You ask, sipping your drink, eyeing him suspiciously. "If you want me to fix your hat again, sorry, I'm out of business."

Chuuya's lips press into a white slash, and you stop yourself from laughing.

"Chuuya!"

The familiar voice has you frozen. Chuuya's scowl deepens, and he stands, attention entirely off you.

"Dazai."

You don't dare look at the man standing at the end of the table, whose eyes are concentrated on you. "Whatcha doing here, slug?"

Chuuya replies, but you don't hear him. Dazai's gaze remains on you, blocking out his ex-partner's babble.

"That's so great," He exclaims to Chuuya. "Come with me," Dazai says, reaching his hand out to you. You inhale sharply and take his palm.

Chuuya shakes his head in perplexity, glowering. "You two are weird, you know that?"

Stepping out into the street, you squint your eyes against the glare of the sun. Dropping his hand, you stalk down the street.

Dazai makes no complaint and follows you, taking a few steps too many and bumping into you. Turning to face him, you glare.

Dazai sighs, his hair tickling your forehead as he looks down at you.

You lean back dramatically. "Why're you so close?"

Dazai's expression remains the same, his frown causing the crease between his brows to deepen. "This is a normal distance for us, bella."

Huffing, you reach to smooth out the groove, rubbing your thumb over his forehead. "You'll get wrinkles."

"We need to talk."

Dropping your arm, you feel your throat close and shake your head. You train your eyes on the fraying bandages on his neck, biting your lip in concentration as you try to remember if you picked up any at the grocery store yesterday. "You need to replace your bandages."

Dazai says your name sternly, running his hand over his face.

You glare up at him. "Well, talk then!"

Screwing his eyes shut, Dazai looks at the ground. "I can't!"

"Argh!" You take a step back, frustrated.

"My problem," you start. "Is that I can't do anything without you interfering."

Dazai's jaw is clenched when he looks at you.

"I'm a part of this agency for a reason, Dazai. If I can't go on missions, then what am I good for?"

"I don't want to see you hurt!" He yells, his voice echoing down the street. Your frown lessens but remains.

"Okay!" You counter. "And what of me then? Do I not get any say in what happens to you?"

"I deserve whatever comes for me, you know that."

You push your fingers into your closed eyes, hoping the tears will stay away. "4 years..."

Dazai says nothing, allowing you to continue.

"4 years since we left, 4 years since Odasaku died, and you still feel like you don't deserve anything good."

At his shaky inhale, you peer up at him. Dazai swallows thickly.

"God, Dazai," you cry. "When will you accept that I won't leave you because of who you are? What you did in the past doesn't matter to me! Hell, look what I did when we were tied to the mafia."

He sighs. "You're an angel-"

Laughing bitterly, you pin your stare on him. "You wanna say that to the girl who tortured thousands of people? Who gets a little trigger-happy and has to be knocked out to stop because she can't, for the life of her, allow anything bad to happen to you?"

Tears spill down your cheeks as you rant, hiccups cutting off your words. "I would die for you, Osamu."

With red eyes, Dazai looks down at you. He chews his bottom lip until it bleeds, and you wipe away the red trickle with your thumb.

Dazai brings his hand to your cheek. "I would die for you, too."

"I know you would. I don't doubt your love for me. All I'm asking," you whisper. "Is that you let me do things for the Agency, no matter the risk."

Dazai sighs softly, his breath fanning your mouth. "I can try, but there's no promise that I won't be right next to you every time."

"Dazai-"

"You can't stop me from tagging along," He smirks. "We're partners, remember?"

You roll your eyes. "Kunikida is your partner."

Dazai grabs your wrist to check the time on your watch. "As of an hour ago, he's Atsushi's partner."

Your jaw drops, and your hand freezes at his waist. "Really? You're my partner?"

"I can't let you die all on your own, can I?" Dazai chuckles deeply, wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against him, shoving his face into your neck. "It's my dream to carry out double suicide, remember?"

You shake your head, giggling, and pull him closer. "You're a menace."

"Anything to keep you safe," He whispers.

You pull your face back to look at him. "Now, you're gonna have me at your side telling you not to do stupid shit."

Dazai smiles. "And I will for the rest of my life."

"In life and death, my love."