#and then i'll try and stop doing a bad job with down then left and if it doesn't work i will Not spiral over it again

[itsgivingmami]

One bed trope? Plus hear me out…reader has a nightmare

31- Rhea Ripley

Sorry this took actual years, was slacking for holidays😅 she’s a long one troops. I wish thee luck. Comments, notes and reblong always appreciated

   “your sweet speaking and lovely laughing—oh it

puts the heart in my chest on wings for when I look at you, a moment, then no speaking is left in me”

Rhea fucking loathed Canada. Going up to cross the border always instilled an overwhelming dread and irritation any time of the year, but especially bloody winter. Snow the first couple times not having it growing up was magical, until she came to realise that it freezes your hair and your never really comfortable in a winter jacket just cold but somehow sweaty at the same time. To this day she fails to understand why anyone would revel in living inside a fucking ice cube for months at a time.

    Her feet felt wet in her boots as she over heated in the smallest hotel lobby she's ever seen, in its defence it may be the crowd of wrestlers and crew packed into the small space of this- where even the fuck were they? Her eyes glanced to you to ask but seeing your furrowed brow staring at your phone made her pause.

    "All good?" Nothing about this is really great, but at least they're safe. They had emergency landed at the nearest available runway to combat the incoming storm and though she doesn't mean it; she considers braving that more appealing than being stuffed into a room with a random person from the company.

       "Trying to get you a refund for the other hotel," She wants to tell you not to worry about it, she'd hardly notice the charge anyhow but doesn't want to come off like she's show boating her wealth and allows you to continue to do, well, your job.

    "Apparently we're all grouping up," she hears from somewhere and signs in relief at least bringing her assistant with her guaranteed she wouldn't be with a stranger. She let out a yawn, eyes watering as she scanned the room. Her colleagues look the same as her, exhausted, ready to lay down and not super excited about the situation they'd ended up in.

    The next hour is a blur of shuffling and key distribution, it's nearly one in the morning by the time someone hands her a key card. You're next to her on the love seat with your knees pulled up resting your head on a hand, eyes closed.

    "Hey," she gently touches your knee and your dark eyes flutter open, Rhea feels bad waking you but if you two can at least get to a room she knows you'll be comfier. She's recently hired you as a personal assistant and with the recent travel stretch she could see the new experience taking its toll. She finds seeing you tired harder than she expected but ignores the way her chest tightens "We've got a room,"

    "Oh sorry," you quickly throw out and she shakes her head, you'd been constantly apologetic since your first day. It was something she'd learned was just a habit and focused on the fact that you'd seemed to finally stop calling her ma'am and celebrated that small victory. "Didn't even realise I'd dozed off," Rhea grabs the strap of your bag from the small coffee table as you lift your glasses onto your head and rub your eyes.

    "We've been awake for too long we should both be dozing," Rhea answers quickly as you go to mention your bag and turns towards the hallway. You take some faster steps to catch up with her long stride along the awful pattern carpet, the amber lights illuminating the way until finding yourselves in front of a chipping burgundy door. She slides the key into the lock and it changes from red to green with an echoed click. Rhea pushes the handle and the door swings open, her eyes look for a chair to place your bags on but her gaze stops on the middle of the room where a single queen size mattress sits. "Bloody hell," Rhea swears under her breath, you come in the room behind her, you both stare at the bed in silence.

     "I'll take the fl-" you stop mid sentence as Rhea stares at you, despite working for her over a month now you still found her in ring and out of ring personality lines blurry. You'd seen first hand what she could do angry in the ring and had made it your soul mission to make sure you'd never make her upset.

     "We can share I'm not that high maintenance," Rhea explains and chuckles which does little ease the tension weighing down around you both. "If I ever get that far up my own ass you oughta punch me,"

"That definitely seems like a breech of my contract," you joke back with an airy giggle. Did you have to keep bringing that up? The fact that she was technically your boss as she definitely she not be having certain types of thoughts about you in general.

"You should grab a shower first, get rid of any left over chill," Rhea tells you keeping her back turned as she drops tour bags onto the end of the bed. The only bed. You want to offer it back, she does have a match but she gives you that stare again. It's overwhelming but comforting, the way she refuses to put herself over you.

   "I won't be long," you assure you and she smiles tightly at you and you practically sprint into the room and shut the door.

    "Take your time," Rhea answers to the empty room, hers legs giving out as she sits on the bed. She hears the pipes squeak as the water turns on and she finally relaxes for a moment. Mentally her chastising herself that she needed to get it together if she was going to make it through this.

     Rhea thought she was used to this feeling by now. She had seen your face or heard your voice every single day for the last thirty days and each time it happened was a test of patience, a lesson in self control and slowly it had been getting easier. Or well, she thought so. Maybe it was the setting, an older hotel with soft lighting. An eye to the snow storm in this god awful country. Maybe it was the fact that the whipping winds outside and blowing snow make this feel separate from the real world. The world where you're only her assistant, the world where she has to get up for the gym in six hours, the world where she's unsure.

   She huffs and stands back up walking away towards the window before turning and staring at the mattress. Was it getting smaller? Her strong hands rake through her hair, no longer bothering to keep let fringe styled forward, she unpacks her phone charger and something to change into ignoring the pit in her stomach and the voice screaming that no matter how normal she tried to make this, it was definitely something new.

"Rhea?" Her inner turmoil is cut off when you call her and she spins around quickly. Confusion painting her face as she stares at the cracked bathroom door, light and steam coming through, "I- Uh, could you pass my bag please?"

Oh. OH. She froze for a second as her brain caught up and moved to grab your bag which was sure enough left behind on the bed. She lands a foot from the door,

"I've got it here," she watches as you peek around the door, wet hair pushed over on shoulder, water droplets shining in the light on your face.

"Thanks," you murmur staring up at her and quietly slink back behind the door. Rhea stands in place watching the air where you just were and swallows thickly. That confirms it, she's screwed.

You're feeling a similar way when your left alone in the room, barely having said more than a sentence to Rhea as you'd traded to embarrassed that she had seen you in a towel and more embarrassed by the fact that you wouldn't mind showing her more. The thoughts pop up before you can stop them placing the blame on the jet lag but deep down you know it had nothing to do with it. Feeding yourself a convenient excuse just like you had every day since starting your employment.

Staring at her hands? No no you were admiring her tattoos or even her jewellery. She'd offer the pieces to you when she caught your gaze and you'd turn her down politely, between not wanting to give her any reason to think you were imaging about all the activities you could day dream while looking at her fingers move and the fact that she wore silver when you preferred gold it seemed like a safer choice to not accept her gestures. It was dizzying to you that the person who could make you cower with her stare could be so kind hearted.

Between the flying, the arguing with the airline company and being cold for hours your body is starting so fight back, clawing for sleep and you pace back and forth. Staring daggers at the bed for its inability to magically split in two and how comfortable it was looking as you grew more exhausted.

“No: tongue breaks, and thin fire is racing under skin

and in eyes no sight and drumming fills ears”

     Rhea nearly melted when she saw you asleep on the bed your phone tumbled beside your slack hand and you breathe softly. She's grateful that your unconsciousness had saved her from doing the which side dance. Carefully stepping towards you she gently pulls the sheets from under your legs, freezing when you adjust and murmur at her before settling again. Rhea lets out a breath and pulls the covers up your body. She flips the lamp on your side and it turns off with a metallic clank.

    Staring at the empty spot beside you she starts to breathe heavier and stalls by going to check the door that locks automatically and close the curtains. A yawn bubbles up as she's wandering around and her eye lids are getting heavier with each second. Her body moves to the bed as if it's calling and she pulls the covers back on her side before sitting down. Shes sure she looks ridiculous moving a slowly as possible and freezing with every sound.

       Rhea watches you peacefully, the soft light from under the door and the moon outside casting a heavenly glow on you. There's a part of her that feels like a creep watching you and she stares up at the ceiling for a moment. You scare the shit out of her when her your foot hits her calf, followed by a quiet whimper. Her eyes widened as she looked to you, your face scrunched in distress.

     "Hey," she whispers to you softly as her hand lightly hovers over your bare shoulder, still hesitant to touch you especially like this. Your body jerks in place again and she watches your hands curl into tight fists. "Mhm you'll hurt yourself," she tells you but you don't hear her and your unconscious body shakes. Rhea reaches for your hands trying to prevent harm, your skin is clammy on hers and she swallows thickly in fear. "Wake up for me,"

“and cold sweat holds me and shaking grips me all, greener than grass”

    You're not sure if it's the terror your sleeping brain is causing, the assertiveness of Rheas voice or feeling her nails in your hair but your eyes snap open and you gasp loudly. Desperately clinging to the nearest thing you don't even realise you've got a wrestler level trap hold on her body, or that you're holding her at all. You take in air in short shallow breaths, vision a blur of black that is Rheas clothing and warm tears.

    "It's me it's Rhea," she cooes to you, the grip you have on her holding strong and it urges her to pull you closer. "You're safe,"

      Your mouth opens to speak but nothing except a choked cry comes out, you feel Rhea pull you upwards allowing more air into your lungs as she pulls your arms over her muscular shoulders.

    "Can you hear me?" She asks and you nod against her chest, a heavy hand rubs your back and it's comforting to you both as she feels your breathing slowing. "Good girl," she says relieved. You two sit in silence for a while, small residue hiccups leaving you.

    "Th-thank you," peeling your fingers from her feels like glue as your back straightens, your arms feel like stone as they fall from her to your sides. "I had a nightmare,"

      "Yeah I-," Rhea covers her mouth with her hand not allowing the chuckle to come out, "I figured,"

     "I don't usually have those," you rasp, eyes trained on the sheets below "I don't even remember,"

   "Exhaustion and sleep deprivation make them more likely," Rhea explains, voice lowered as guilt floods her, "I pushed you too far I'm sorry,"

    "No you didn't I made the decision I'm a grown woman," you affirmed and Rhea groaned. You tried to scoot backwards but she reaches for your fore arm.

    "Yes a woman," Rhea agrees, you watch her carefully. "A woman that I can't pretend I'm not falling for, assistant or not I just can't pretend," her eyes meet yours, her gaze stronger than you'd ever seen it as you stay locked to her. "That I don't want you,"

You find yourself speechless as her confession echoes in your ears. Biting the inside of your cheek to make sure you're actually awake before you move your arms back around her shoulders and pull her flush against you. She pulls your body to straddle her as you hug tightly, getting as close as possible to each other.

"I want-," you stutter out finally finding words, as her arms fold against the small of your back. You pull back to come face to face with her, you teary eyes looking into hers. "I want you too,"

720 hours worth of self control build up had crumbled within the raven haired woman holding you, her lips find yours as you let out a gasp of surprise before your lips meld together and she swallows your small noises. Rhea tastes like tooth paste and her lips claim yours, you smile against her lips feeling her tongue ring hit your lip and she takes the opportunity to explore your mouth.

Your stomach feels like it’s floating as Rheas hands run your body, now that she finally has you she’s forgotten what it was like to have distance between your bodies. She occasionally separates from your lips allowing you to breath each others air as she places soft kisses on the sides of you mouth and your chin. She cups your jaw and uses her thumb to wipe the drool that fell from your mouth before gently pulling on your bottom lip. You watch her eyes stare hungrily at her action and the moment your lips snaps back up she’s in your mouth again.

“I am and dead—or almost”

~

“That emergency landing was the shits,” Damian complains as he plops down next to Rhea, who’s sitting in the middle plane seat despite you telling her you could take it.

“Punks a fucking beast of a snorer,”

Rheas hand squeezes yours, pressed between your two bodies and the seat. She looks to you for a moment and grins before turning back to Damian.

“Fucking awful,” Rheas tells him but can’t hide the grin on her face,

“Just intolerable,” you add smiling.

“I seem to me”

Sappho- Fragment 31

[fromthemouthofkings]

.

[the-casbah-way]

when i wake up after a meltdown im like ok im going to be nice to myself today and then i end up being just as mean to myself in my head as i always am except i’ll also maybe let myself go to bed like an hour earlier as a treat

[spade-club]

:/ fighting with my partner atm. We rarely ever do and if we are fighting its over this very thing. I got real close to breaking up with them. Its so hard to weigh how I feel and what I should do here. I just want to take a nap. I'm so tired. But I'm at work and when I get home we have to finish talking. I just want to sleep before thinking about all this any more. That last half hour of my shift energy boost better fucking be enough. It never feels like it will be but I always get everything done somehow.

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 11 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you told Jake you wanted him to come find you, there was no stopping him. He couldn't make you need him the same way he needed you, but he would take care of whatever made you cry. When you hurt Jake, you hurt yourself, too. He deserved an apology that you were ready to give him, and then he gave you more than you could have hoped for.

Warnings: angst, adult language, fluff, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

Jake whipped along the dark, quiet streets of Coronado before crossing the bay bridge at twenty over the speed limit in his truck. You called him. He thought his number never even made it into your phone, but after almost two weeks, you called him. Your voice sounded distraught, but when he went out on a limb, suggesting he come find you himself, you readily agreed. Now he just needed to figure out why you were upset and make sure you weren't hurt.

"Come on," he growled at the red light where he needed to turn left. There wasn't much traffic this late, but it still had been fifteen minutes since you called, and he didn't want to keep you waiting. Not when he heard the tears in your voice. Not when he missed you so much, it felt like part of him was lost.

Something must have happened. If he had done a better job with you, maybe you'd have been back at his place again tonight, safe and sound. That was exactly what he wanted. He hadn't cracked open a college textbook in almost eight years, but that didn't stop him from imagining you doing your classwork on his couch while he offered his two cents here and there. He'd been so damn desperate to feel as good as he had when you were there two weekends ago, he ordered himself your favorite kind of pizza tonight. If he thought it tasted bad before, it was a hundred times worse without you on his lap teasing him.

When he made it to your campus, he found the street you told him over the phone, and he drove a little slower, eyes darting from one side of the street to the other. He was tempted to call your number back to be sure he was on the right track when his gaze caught on a bench across the next intersection. 

It was you. Your head was in your hands, staring at the ground, but he recognized your Converse sneakers as soon as his headlights shone on them. You had on the cutest dress imaginable, and all Jake wanted to do was make sure you were okay.

He pulled his truck up to the curb and killed the engine, and you looked up at him as soon as he hopped out. You were illuminated by a streetlamp, shivering on the bench, and he ran to get to you faster. Tears streaked your cheeks as you stared up at him like he wasn't real, and he sank down onto his knees on the rough sidewalk at your feet.

"Darlin'," he whispered as more tears filled your eyes. "Tell me what's wrong."

You only got one word out before fresh tears fell. "Jake."

He scooted a little closer, and you let him take your hand in his. "You can trust me. I meant it when I said that." As he ran his thumb along your knuckles, he added, "If you tell me what's wrong, I'll try to fix it."

You hung your head and took a deep breath. "I'm such an idiot." Your eyes were closed, long lashes resting on your damp cheeks as you whispered, "I shouldn't have bothered you. Can you just give me a ride back to my dorm?"

"Hey," he coaxed, giving your hand a little squeeze. "I'll make sure you get back safely, but I can't help with whatever caused the tears unless you tell me what happened."

Your eyes fluttered open as you licked your lips. They parted in silence, and Jake was close enough now to feel your warm breath on his cheek. You were hesitating. Reluctant. You were never like this with him before. He was used to you making demands and walking around his place like you owned it, and he found that was how he preferred things. But he waited for you to speak, simply stroking your knuckles with his thumb until you were ready.

"Cooper happened. And it was awful."

Even the name made Jake's skin crawl. He'd been thinking about that stupid kid since the first time you mentioned him, but right now, anger burned just beneath the surface of his skin as he asked, "What did he do to you?" When you tried to hide your face, Jake ran his palm along your cheek and guided your gaze back to his. "Did he hurt you, Darlin'?"

The sentence hung in the air as Jake's throat grew tight. One more tear slid down your cheek as he examined your beautiful face, and you pressed your quivering lips together. Your lack of response was enough for him to get to his feet, and he pulled you up from the bench as well. He tried his best to stay calm, but he could hear the anger in his voice when he asked, "Where is he? I will fucking destroy him."

You responded by taking a step closer until your cheek was resting on his chest, and Jake wrapped his arms around you. Some of his rage melted away at your touch. Goosebumps covered your arms as you shivered, and he couldn't help but kiss your forehead. Maybe that gesture was why you finally spoke more than a few words, or maybe it was because you could still feel the anger inside him. Either way, Jake held you close as you said, "Cooper did exactly what I gave him permission to do. No need to destroy him."

"Did he hurt you?" he asked again, needing a straight answer.

"No."

"Do you want me to beat the shit out of him anyway?"

You laughed in spite of your tears, and the sound made Jake's heart clench in his chest. "Kind of. But it's all my fault for being so stupid."

"Look at me," Jake said softly. He waited until you did before he said, "You're not stupid. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way when I called you naive. You're young, but you're not stupid."

"I am though," you replied immediately, hand coming up to rest on his chest. "You were so sweet to me. A perfect gentleman. A perfect weekend. And then I just fucking threw it in your face and had sex with Cooper."

Jake let out the breath he had been holding. He wasn't really surprised. That was your main goal the whole time, and you were a good student. You knew what you wanted, and you went for it. But some twenty year old dipshit wasn't going to be able to handle your level of class. He'd been trying to show you that all along. "Let me guess, Darlin'. Cooper wasn't a perfect gentleman?"

You shook your head, and Jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. "It was terrible," you told him. "I just... I messed up somehow."

"Fuck," Jake murmured, hoping the answer to his next question didn't make him want to pull the bench out of the ground and throw it across the street. "Did he use a condom?"

Your eyes were sincere in the glow from the streetlight. "Of course I made sure he used a condom." You bit your lip and added, "You're the only one who can fuck me without one. That was lesson number twelve."

Even the thought made him dizzy. "Just me," he grunted. 

Jake hadn't stopped wanting you for a minute since you kissed him at the bar, but tonight, he found you sitting on a bench on a sketchy side street, crying over another guy. And that really fucking hurt. But at least you made sure Cooper used a condom. At least you were safe.

"He was nothing like you were," you whispered, and he held you tighter. "I asked him for some extra foreplay, and he didn't know how to touch me. I told him I liked oral sex, but he just automatically assumed I'd go down on him instead. I can't believe I did all of this so wrong."

When you tried to remove your hand from his chest, he covered it with his own. "You didn't do anything wrong. I can promise you that. Maybe... you just don't belong with that asshole." Jake sighed and fought the urge to kiss your lips, because he knew you belonged with him, even if you weren't quite there yet. "As long as you're okay, I'll take you back to your dorm. But... maybe in a couple days or a few weeks, when you think you're done crying over Cooper... maybe you'd consider calling me again?" Your eyes went wide as he added, "I really am done with the tag chasers. I haven't been with anyone since you. I think you were my final straw in admitting to myself I wanted something more. Because being with you felt perfect."

"Jake!" you gasped loudly. "I'm not crying over Cooper. I'm crying over how badly I messed things up with you!"

Jake's brow furrowed. "Oh." Now he felt like the idiot. He also felt a little light headed as you leaned in closer.

"I'm so sorry for making you feel cheap," you whispered, eyes shimmering with more tears. "Because you're not. I didn't mean it. I got scared of how much we did together in such a short amount of time. But it was unbelievable how special you made me feel." When he tried to say something, you shook your head before you touched your lips gently to his and asked, "Was it just a normal weekend for you, or did you feel as good as I did? And I'm definitely not just talking about the physical stuff."

"Darlin'," he whispered, wiping your tears away as they fell. "It was the best weekend of my life. And not just the sex. It was never just the sex." You kissed him tentatively again, lips barely touching his before you started to pull away, but Jake chased you for another one. And another one. And then you were smiling against his lips as he said, "I'm really happy you called me, Darlin'."

"Me, too. I missed you."

When he finally broke the kiss, he asked, "You're sure you got Cooper out of your system?"

"I'm so sure," you said softly, never breaking eye contact.

"Then let's get out of here."

Jake ushered you to his truck with his arm around your waist. "Are you taking me back to my dorm?" you asked when he opened the door for you.

"Nah. You're spending the weekend with me. Where you belong."

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

Walking back through Jake's front door felt like going home. He held your hand the whole ride over, and when you told him you might need some things from your dorm room, he promised to take you back there in the morning to get whatever you wanted. Then he smirked and added, "But you wore everything from my dresser and made yourself at home last time you were here. You can do that again while we make up for being apart last weekend."

Now that you were standing in his living room where everything looked and felt familiar, you closed your eyes and let him hold you. "I missed you so much," you whispered. "I thought about calling or texting you so many times, it's not even funny. Then I told myself there was no way you'd forgive me."

Jake sighed deeply. "I was terrified that I didn't save my number in your phone before the battery died. I thought I'd never hear from you again. I missed you so much, I even stopped by the Hard Deck last weekend to see if you went there by chance."

Your gaze settled on the pizza box on the coffee table, and when you tried to reach for it, Jake grabbed your hand. You looked up at him, and when you tried one more time to open the lid, he wrapped you in a tighter hug and tried to walk across the living room with you in his arms.

"What kind of pizza is that, Jake?" you asked, tone playfully accusatory. 

This man literally picked you up from a bench on your school campus after you slept with a loser your own age, and he'd once again done nothing except show you respect and affection the whole evening. And now you could feel how easily you and he were falling back into the playful bubble you'd existed in two weeks ago. It was exquisite. This time you weren't going to burst it.

"Come on, Darlin'," he groaned, letting go of your hand so you could investigate the pizza box for yourself. "I couldn't help myself."

"Ha!" you said once you had it open. "My favorite kind!"

Jake's cheeks were pink as he nodded while you pointed at the half eaten pizza on the coffee table. "I told you I missed you," he whispered, and you stumbled back into his arms. "I've been sleeping with my window open so I could listen to the ocean, but it's better with you there. Everything is. The pizza was bad enough before, but it tasted like shit when I ate it alone. I didn't even want to stay in the tub until the water got cold the other day. I only lasted like five minutes"

Your eyes went wide. "You broke one of your own rules?" When he nodded, you kissed his cheek and asked, "Can we take a bath together now?"

His expression melted into a smile. "Go get it started while I get us some drinks."

Lighter than air, you practically floated down the hallway to his bedroom. Everything was tidy like you remembered it. He had some clean laundry folded on his dresser, and when you ran your hand along the soft cotton of his undershirts, you paused. Your black thong was sitting there as well. Excitement welled up inside you, because he never got rid of it. Your fingers wrapped around the lace and you carried it into the bathroom with you, excitement building further as soon as you saw the green toothbrush you used was still there, right next to Jake's. He held onto both of them since you were here last.

These were things a boyfriend would do. You were sure of it. When Jake strolled in with a Sam Adams in one hand and stemware filled with ice water in the other, you were holding your underwear and the toothbrush to your chest. He kissed your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world before saying, "I thought you were going to fill the tub."

"I was," you replied, making no move to do anything as he set the drinks down on the sink vanity. He smiled when he saw what you were holding, and then he opened the cabinet to pull out two towels and some washcloths. There was no new box of condoms inside. None at all.

"You're really done with the tag chasers?" you blurted out, toothbrush digging into the palm of your hand.

Jake looked up at you and nodded as he turned the water on to fill the tub. "Yeah. To be honest, I think I was done with them as soon as I picked up your fake ID from the floor." His green eyes were earnest as he stood tall again and reached for you. "Now, can we make this water as hot as possible? So it'll take longer to cool down? Once we start snuggling, I'm not going to want to get out."

His fingers were teasing along the strap of your dress at your shoulder as you finally set down your thong and your toothbrush. Then you let Jake undress you as the bathroom started to get steamy. The part inside you that was still afraid he wouldn't want you now was soothed by his words and his big hands on your bare skin.

"Climb on in, Darlin'."

You watched him undress from the comfort of the bath, and he handed you both drinks before he turned off the brighter lights in favor of the softer ones. Then he climbed in with you, and his arm was around your body immediately, guiding you to settle between his legs. 

You sipped your water while he sipped his Sam Adams, and the two of you smiled at each other before you asked, "Are you sure you want me to spend the night?"

He hummed into his beer bottle before taking another sip and setting it aside. "I'm going to want you here as much as possible." His words were so simple, but so full of possibility. He felt the same way you did. You were sure of it now. But you had to sip your water to take time to collect your thoughts.

"Well, I have work to do for my classes," you finally said, and he took the glass from your hand and discarded it.

"I can try to help you with it," he replied, both hands on your body once more. "Or maybe I can learn something new. You can be the teacher."

Your heart was beating a nervous rhythm even as you curled up against him with your head on his shoulder and your fingers in his chest hair. "Maybe we should buy more condoms tomorrow or Sunday?" you asked quietly. Nothing about the current state of things felt sexual, but you were still a tiny bit scared he would reject you in that way because of Cooper. But his lips found your forehead while he traced a little heart on your thigh.

"Sure. We can do that." He tipped your chin up so you were looking at him. His expression was serious as he softly said, "But the two of us don't need to have sex to be intimate and have a good time together. You have a lot more than that to offer, Darlin'. I do, too."

You thought back to all the little moments you and he shared in between hooking up. Making out on the couch and laughing together. Eating pizza and falling asleep in his arms. Those were the best parts. "I don't know what you did, but you made all of it so good. Every minute of the entire weekend."

He seemed to relax more as he accepted your words. "It was never just fucking to me. Not since the first night when you trusted me enough to sleep over. And certainly not since I asked you if you wanted it to be sex or something more. That was us making love."

You whimpered before his lips met yours, and you kissed him hard as you let your wet fingers drag through his soft hair. "It was perfect," you said against his mouth before you pulled away an inch.

His forehead was pressed to yours as he murmured, "You're perfect. You always were." His lips brushed yours as he added, "But yeah, after I take you out for lunch tomorrow and we stop by your dorm for whatever you need, we can get more condoms. I would enjoy that immensely."

"You better not get me pregnant before I graduate from college," you joked.

Jake snorted. "I better not get you pregnant anytime soon. I haven't even met your parents yet."

"You want to meet my parents?" you asked in surprise. 

You were perched on his lap awaiting a response as Jake leaned back against the tub. His gaze lingered on every part of your face before he casually asked, "Which lesson were we on?"

He was being coy and sweet and sincere, and all of your feelings were right there at the surface now. "Are you serious right now?" you asked, poking him in the abs. When he nodded, you said, "We were on number thirteen."

"Right. Lucky number thirteen. My favorite one," he crooned, offering up nothing else.

After another beat, you poked him again and said, "Spit it out, Jake. What's the lesson?"

"Smartass," he muttered. The water was starting to cool down now, and when you shivered, he just held you a little closer. "Lesson thirteen is more for me than for you." He paused to kiss you before saying, "I'm feeling like I don't want to be with anyone else. Just you. Make this a permanent thing. Think you can humor me by labeling it?"

"Yes," you replied so quickly that he was laughing when your lips crashed against his.

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

Jake wrapped you up in one of the towels, and the two of you brushed your teeth side by side. You already knew where everything was, and without prompting, you rooted around in his dresser drawers until you found something you wanted to wear. Then you climbed into his bed like you knew without a doubt you'd always be welcome there, and he turned off the lights.

"Jake," you whined softly, patting the empty spot next to you in the glow from the moonlight. When he didn't immediately move, you added, "Get in bed with me."

But he took the time to admire you as he slid the window open another few inches. The sound of the ocean had a calming effect on him again now that you were back, and he felt more peaceful. You belonged here with him. When you reached for his hand, he let you tug him toward the bed with a smile on his face. He belonged with you, too.

"That's better," you whispered, melting into him as soon as he had his arms around you under the blanket. "Good night, Jake." 

"Night, Darlin'." He was ready to keep you warm all night and spend the weekend showing you that he made an excellent boyfriend. "I love you."

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

Jake and Darlin' pulled it together in the end. Thank you for reading my fic about intimacy, consent, trust and knowing your worth. I loved every second of writing this. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[canihaveacalmtime]

Illegitimate child, that's how people always view you, the youngest prince/princess because you didn't inherit the golden hair from the king, your father, like your other siblings.

For over 10 years of existing, dealing with the servants gossip, your family's looks and low living conditions for a royal member, you just decided that maybe it's time to make a change so that you can soon leave this place. Maybe move to a faraway land or another continent to settle down, hoping that you'd never see any of them ever again.

You begin your moves by showing the servants their places, begin treating yourself so that you don't always look dead whenever you go out of your comfort zone, you also start to dress up more good looking so other nobles won't bother you during gatherings or big parties and over all, showing them their position and how they should treat you.

Despite the fact you may be a bit over-do your moves, you treat them back and be nice, you play fair and that's how other nobles begin to reach out to you, reach out to the person they misunderstood and you did gained a few close friends over time.

Your family noticed your changings as they begin trying to open up to you more but whenever you try to reply to their reach outs, your inner self refused. Maybe it's because of those neglected traumas, because they isolated you somewhere far away from the main castle, maybe because everything is just so new to you so you didn't know how to react or because, you just can't and don't want to connect to them again.

After all, you will leave soon, with the money you gained from a few business doings, heading out for a change of life, ripping the royal title off of yourself.

One evening, you were informed by one of the servants that your father wants you in the main castle for a family meeting so you try to wipe the tiredness you're having and attended. Your family told you that you're not an illegitimate child but a blood by blood royal member as for your hair, it was the enemy kingdom doing. To the past you, hearing this would be a huge change but to you now, does that even change anything? Does their apology even worth anything anymore? No, nothing will change.

"No matter what you say, I'll still leave soon. You won't have to deal with the stain of the imperial family no more." As you leave with a light smile, your brother tries to hold you back but you just lightly shove him off and left.

1 week before your leave, your family seems to be bothering you much more than you intended. How your big brother would visit you every hour of the day, how your older sister would being you hand-made desserts and tea that used to be your favorite, how the queen and king would willingly step inside the dirty tower, your deemed home, to convince you to move back into the main palace as you refuse every offer they gave.

That late night, the night you leave, as you are packing up nearly finish, your sister burst into your room without alarming, telling you that your mother has got injured by an assassinate attempt and that the queen needs you by her side. You are debating, you want your freedom now but you may be bad but not a monster so even if inside you screams 'don't go', you gave in and follow your sister to the main palace, maybe if you trust your instincts and turn around to see how your sister smiles at you, maybe you will have a change of choice.

Maybe if you didn't doubt yourself too much, you wouldn't have gotten trapped inside your new room now in the main palace. The mages did a really good job on preventing you from escaping the room, now that you are completely in their hold, they can show you that they can be the family that you deserved.

Stop crying and hurting yourself, they can't stand seeing you in such a state. If you don't, they have no other choice but to using 'restraints' on you and I'm sure, you wouldn't want that to happen.

[chiipay]

Omg I love your works!!

So basically I really want the 'protecting you' scenarios (like the reader is getting harrassed and our bllk bfs throw a punch) of Rin, Karasu, Nagi and Barou (and anyone else you want!!!) Thank you 🥰🥰

Okay (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ I'm suck at this scenarios so I'll try my best (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

F*CK OFF 👹- ITOSHI RIN

You and Rin are just strolling in the supermarket to pick up some groceries since you kinda ate everything in the fridge as it was for 'emotional food therapy' you said to Rin. He didn't budge about it and just grabbed the back of your shirt and dragged you to the supermarket with him.

The thing happened when he left your side for a minute because his teammates called up on him there and he had to shoved them to the other side because they seem to be bugging you in his eyes.

You were just strolling down to find some ice cream for Rin- bending your body a bit to grab out from the cooler. A whistle from a guy behind you was heard making you shudder and alert of it. You quickly stand up properly and twist your head 90° (jk) to face the guy. You thought about slapping him but you somehow met with an unconvincing entrance of Itoshi Rin already grabbed the collar of the guy shirt-

You quickly step in and drag Rin away from the poor guy who now looks anxious while you mutter a small apology to him somehow you felt bad. As you drag rin away from the scene, Rin looks towards the guy while lifting middle finger to him as he grumbles a lot of curse words making you drag him with you even faster-

"I'm gonna kill you- gonna hunt you- fuck you- kys- go die- commit suicide- don't stare at her- fuck you- fucking disgusting- die die die-" you have to put your hand on rin's mouth so he wouldn't try to curse the poor guy whole generation.

BEGONE 🗣️‼️- KARASU TOBITO

Dang- you just wanted to see karasu at practice today- why is this happening to you..ughhh-

Some guy came up to you while you were navigating about the location karasu gave you. The guy kept bugging you to have a ride with him in his vehicle but even with so many refusal he seems to not be getting a hint. You were thiiiiissssss 🤏 close to hit him with your purse.

" come on, it will be fun-"

He whistles at you making you infuriating even more.

' dang-just leave me alone- WHY THE HELL KARASU SEND ME A LOCATION OF NOWHERE TO BE FOUND-"

You walk even faster on the sidewalk completely ignoring the guy who kept giving offers to you. You didn't even realize his vehicle stopped as he stepped out of his own vehicle and started to walk up to you.

You noticed the guy a minute later before you started to run for your life while that same guy chased after you. ' OH SH-'

You bumped into some hard chest making you look up instantly and met with the so-called crow head. Karasu smiles cheekily at you and looks at the guy who chased you who's now just standing in front of karasu.

" thanks for assisting her, sure you got some business to do aren't yah? "

Karasu put his hand on the guy's shoulder. You didn't know what was happening due to karasu holding you close to his chest. But you could hear the guy slowly walking away leaving you and karasu alone.

" sorry- yer good? Thought you got lost in the forest for a sec."

" you did a shitty job on sending a location-"

"my bad. Let me treat ya some goods kay?"

TING KE TING🔥- NAGI SEISHIRO

You weren't a big fan of football but somehow Nagi managed to drag you into one of his games today. You have lost when he started to give you a puppy eyes look. It was his cheeks you think that your defense got lost there. Bro has chubby cheeks you could not resist.

You sigh deeply as you look towards nagi from your seat. Yeah he's good at playing it- it's not like you are mesmerized by his goal when he trapped the ball perfectly and tricked his ally thinking his going to pass it- yeah you definitely aren't mesmerized by it.

" hi- is this seat taken?" A pair of eyes came into your vision as the guy asked you.

"oh- uh no.." you shake your head a bit. The guy smiles towards the answer and happily sits next to you making you try to distance yourself away for a bit---🤏

"that guy is good right? That number 10, nagi. " The guy leans a bit towards your side making you anxiously getting nervous asf.

" Huh-? O-oh oh yeah number 10? He's very good at trapping.. he's a good player." You nervously laugh a bit. It's kinda funny to talk about your partner to some stranger. You talked to him for a bit while making a conversation about football which you weren't interested in but still managed to answer because Nagi used to ramble it to you. While talking, you didn't notice Nagi sending death glare at the guy you were talking to from afar.

You stop talking for a bit as you look back to the field to seek for Nagi just to find him looking at you while pouting from the very far. You got confused as Nagi lifted his hand and pointed to the seat next to you making you look at the side and see the guy who looked at you too. It took you a second, before you widened the hit as you looked at Nagi again and shook your head lots of times while making an explanation in a sign language.

Nagi looks at you for a bit before returning back to his teammates clearly ignoring your demure. Oh no. Looks like you gotta prepare yourself when you get back home..

RAWR RAWR 💥- BAROU SHOEI

" here- try this on." Barou who is lending his jacket to so you could be covered properly.

Barou who would blame the society who can't keep their eyes to themselves. Barou blames his own kind for not being able to keep their hands off someone who's uncomfortable with touching. He's mad for sure. He put his jacket securely around your waist before neatly settling it jacket's hands into a pretty bow.

It wasn't your fault and Barou knows that. Barou almost put up a fight with some guy on the street when the guy started hitting on you.

"...sorry" you mutter in a small voice as Barou leads you to sit on a bench.

"it's not your fault. Don't be sorry." Barou who's treating you carefully not wanting to upset you from what happened earlier. He felt like he was the one who should apologise to you for not being there.

"...i wanna go home.."

" mhm..got it. Want me to carry you? It's already late, no one is here so we can have the night for ourselves." Barou who softens his voice so you wouldn't be scared by him.

"...that would be nice..." He slowly reaches his hands before making it way to your back and under your thighs and lifts it up.

" do you want something along the way? There would be a convenience store nearby." You shook your head and Barou hummed in response. Barou who carries you as you slept peacefully under his care. Barou who would punch the guy that bothered you if he ever saw him again

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[fxllfaiiry]

─ callin' it quits now, baby, I'm a wreck ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: the aftermath of the argument with miguel.

✶ warnings: angst, hurt with comfort, occ miguel (for one scene only dw), shitty humour, one or two swear words, reader being slightly mean, mentions of death.

✶ notes: part two of "you're the sunflower" this part was originally 8k words long and i was like nope, so i had to cut it down, I'm sorry. I really hope this isn't bad ‼️

At first, you didn't quit the team. 

After the blow-up with Miguel, you thought about leaving the team for good, but yet you decided to show up, hanging around for a bit before quickly leaving. 

But slowly you stopped showing up altogether. The looks of pity were too much for you to handle, and frankly, you deserve an apology, you deserved better.

Every day was torture, and seeing Miguel only made it worse. No one thought this whole ordeal would go this far. 

Everyone noticed the changes, you were more serious, and your usual sunshine self was gone at this point. Everyone noticed the day you stopped coming in. 

You felt so lonely, sure, you had friends in your universe but yet, nothing felt the same. You sometimes wondered if they missed you or not. 

It had only been a few weeks and yet it felt like months. 

A part of you secretly hoped someone from the team would show up at your doorstep pleading for you to come back, but nothing. 

"You'll get used to it eventually" You'd tell yourself. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It had been two whole months since you left. Nothing felt the same without you. 

"Does anyone else miss Sunflower?" Gwen said sadly. She missed your hugs, and your little girl talks with her, she missed everything about you.  

"We all miss her, kid," Peter sighed. Without you, he had no one to talk to about Mayday. 

"I hope she comes back soon," Miles said. 

"I think she just wants space right now," Pavitr replied.  

"This is all Miguel's fault y'know?" Hobie added bitterly, how dare Miguel take his friend away from him. 

"Someone should talk to him, maybe if he apologizes, she'll come back." Miles was hopeful, he knew you'd come back eventually. 

"Sure, kid. As if Miguel ever listens." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Miguel on the other hand was depressed. 

He'd gotten used to your presence and it felt odd without you.

He felt horrible about yelling at you but he was scared. The thought of you dying terrified him, and his way of dealing with that wasn't the best. 

He thought about apologizing many times, but he didn't know how to. The last thing he wanted was to cause more damage. 

"You know a simple "sorry" could fix this all right?" Lyla said, breaking him out of his trance. 

"It's not that easy, Lyla." He sounded so broken to his own ears. 

"Well, you gotta try, Boss." 

"Sunflower used to call me that." 

"You're joking, right? Wow, you really are pathetic." Lyla snorted. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Dude, you're in love with her. You are absolutely smitten." 

"Lyla, that's enough-" 

"No, you love her and that's why it's bothering you so much." 

"I don't-" 

"Nah, Lyla's right, you do love her." He turned around to see Jess standing in his office. 

"Jess, not you too, and where did you come from?" Miguel groaned, he did not love you. 

"The door…? Anyways, just try to fix things, the first step is you apologizing." Jess stated matter-of-factly. 

Miguel thought about it for a minute, these last few weeks had been pure torture for him, Jess was right, the first step is apologizing.

"Fine, I'll do it first thing tomorrow, but I don't love her." 

"Sure, whatever you say, man." Jess snickered. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You got somewhat used to your new life. It was the same old plain routine every day. You tried to throw yourself into other things. Finding new hobbies, jobs, literally anything. 

But eventually, it all started to feel okay.

Things were finally starting to look good for you. 

You thought about the spider society way less and finally started living your life to the fullest. 

You were moving on. 

Crime fighting was easy today. You got to hang out with your friends and an old lady gave you a cheerio, which is something. 

You swung around the city for a bit, enjoying the view and temporary peace. 

Soon it was time for you to head back home. You climbed in through your bedroom window and quickly changed out of your suit, slipping into more comfortable clothing.  

When you went downstairs to get some food, you weren't expecting to see Miguel O'Hara sitting on your couch. 

"Holy shit, what are you doing here?" You scared him, because he jumped violently at the sound of your voice. 

"I was here t-"

"Humiliate me further? Because I thought we were done with that." You felt bad saying that, but he deserved it. 

"No, I'm here to apologize." He looked down, ashamed. 

"It's a bit late for that, isn't it?" You chuckled bitterly, walking past him into the kitchen. 

"Just listen to me for a second." 

"I thought I was incapable of doing that." You muttered to yourself. 

He got up and strode towards you, but he received no acknowledgment of his presence. 

"I'm sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone; it was wrong and I shouldn't have acted so immaturely." 

"Uh-huh, it's fine. You can leave now, the door's right there." You weren't buying his ridiculous apology. Even a five-year-old could do better. 

"I understand you're mad, but please give me a chance." That was pretty much the last straw for you.

"I'm mad? You humiliated me in front of everyone! You made me feel like shit, you made me think I don't belong on the team! You're an asshole." You were screaming at him, taking out all the anger and sadness you felt in the past two months.

"I'm sorry." He sounded so small, so vulnerable, and for the second time in his life, he didn't know what to do. 

"The best you can say is I'm sorry? At least give me a proper explanation." You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

"I'm in love with you." What? 

"Right, if you're here to joke around and mock me just leave okay."  You open up to him and he mocks you in return. Amazing.

"I'm being serious. I'm not mocking you or joking around, I'm in love with you. You want an explanation, so I'm giving you one." He breathed, looking at you hoping to receive some reaction. All he got was a small head tilt which he took as a sign to continue. 

"The reason I yelled at you was because I was scared. I thought you were going to die and that terrified me, I've lost everything, and I don't want to lose you too. I didn't know how to handle it, so I lashed out. I truly am sorry, Sunflower." You froze trying to process everything, was he telling the truth? 

"Lyla and Jess helped me realize my true feelings for you." He whispered. 

When you said nothing for a few minutes he started to get scared, he was ready to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. 

"Can you… say something? Please?"

"I can't forgive you just yet." He would never admit to what happened next but he started sobbing. All this was too much, being vulnerable was an unknown feeling to him. 

"Woah, wait hey, don't cry. Let me-" Before you could finish your sentence he fell to his knees, arms clutching your waist like a lifeline. 

You were beyond confused, you thought this whole interaction was some sort of weird dream. Miguel O'Hara down on his knees, for you? Wow, two months ago you would've scoffed and rolled your eyes at that. 

Nonetheless, you ran your fingers through his hair trying to soothe him. 

"Miguel, honey, listen to me. Just because I'm not ready to forgive you now, doesn't mean I never will." His face was still squished against your midriff, and his breathing was slowly returning to normal, with a few sniffs here and there. 

"So, you'll come back?" Seeing him in such a state broke your heart, you were still upset with him but were willing to give him a chance. 

"Yes, I'll come back tomorrow." At that, he smiled properly for the first time in weeks. 

He stayed there for a few moments, letting you comb through his hair gently, he would cherish this brief moment forever. 

"I should get going then. The multiverse needs saving." He said hoarsely, standing up, he was slightly embarrassed by this side of him. 

"Maybe use the door this time." He lightly chuckled at your statement, the warm feeling took over him once again.

Miguel did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here with you, but he knew that wasn't an option right now.

Before he left he had to get one last thing off his chest.

"Could you, not tel-" 

"Tell anyone about this? Don't worry, this stays between us only." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Everyone was surprised to see you back the next day. 

The second you walked in, everyone was all over you, hugging you and filling you in on everything you missed. It felt good to be back. 

"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen whispered, hugging you tightly. 

"I'm happy to be back, Gwendy. I missed you guys so much." 

"Hey quit hogging Sunflower, it's my turn to hug her now." Miles huffed impatiently. 

"Me next!" Pavitr bounced enthusiastically. 

"Hey, not cool. I called dibs, man." Hobie groaned. 

"Hey, Sunflower, I have some new pictures of Mayday to show you." Everyone was so excited to see you again, it was chaotic, but it felt like home. They were your family. 

Miguel watched the scene from afar with a smile, he was glad everything was okay now. 

"So you fixed things up with her, huh?" Jess said, popping up behind him, once again taking him by surprise. 

"¡Ay, coño! Jess, stop doing that." 

"Sorry, not my fault you don't have a spidy sense." Jess hummed. "So, how did you get her to forgive you?" 

"I have my ways." 

"You got down on your knees and begged her, didn't you?"

"How did you know?" Miguel whisper-yelled. That was supposed to be a secret. 

"I have my ways." Jess winked. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── 

In a few weeks, everything was back to normal, you were back to your old self again. 

Except for the fact that you and Miguel were now closer than ever. That was new. 

You were always by his side, sticking close to him and he felt comfortable around you, always relaxed in your presence. 

He wasn't sure if you forgave him just yet, but he was willing to wait for as long as you needed. 

He did small things to show you he cared, sometimes it was bringing you coffee, other times it was giving you your favorite flowers. 

You knew he was sorry, and in your heart, you forgave him a long time back. 

So, you finally decided to tell him. 

You guys were in his office having lunch, he didn't like to eat out in the cafeteria. You both would usually sit in silence enjoying each other's company. 

"Hey, Miguel." 

"Hm?" 

"I forgive you." 

He raised his eyebrows in confusion taking a moment to realise what you meant. When he finally got it, his eyes widened almost comically. 

"Oh, you do?" He was trying to hide his smile but failed horribly. 

"I forgave you a long time back, but I just… needed some time." You nodded.  

"I understand that. Thank you for giving me another chance." 

"Actually, to forgive you fully, I want one thing from you." You declared, confidently. 

"I'll do anything, Sunflower." He'd indeed do anything for you. 

"I want you to go out on a date with me." 

His brain stopped working. You were asking him out on a date. 

"Miguel? Is that a yes or no?" You grew nervous at his lack of response. Did you cross boundaries? You thought he liked you. 

"I would love to." You quickly beamed at his response, after months of waiting it was finally happening. 

"So, how about tomorrow, at 7?" You giggled. 

"Sounds perfect." He sighed, softly smiling. 

He couldn't wait for tomorrow. 

[a-driftamongopenstars]

alright, i finally finished Dragon Age the Veilguard.

tldr; 3/10. I didn't like it.

If you enjoyed the game and would rather keep enjoying it, please don't click the read more section as what follows is rather critical.

I can finally sit down with my thoughts and put them together in a more cohesive structured review, touching on most things that I wanted to address. I'll start with positives and then focus on the negatives.

Warning, this is VERY long.

Overall, I had a neutral to negative impression of DatV, which got worse by the end of the game. It had some good moments, but they were entirely unexplored and underutilized, suffering from bad writing. While the game itself is rather pretty, it didn't outweigh the dialogues, the stories and the lore butchering that took place.

1. Environment and visuals. 8/10.

I think Veilguard is a very beautiful game. I enjoyed exploring the corners of this new world, the little bits of environment design and storytelling that it had. It felt magical, certain locations were mesmerizing! I couldn't stop staring at the valley where you go to with Harding, the carcass of a titan.

2. Combat. 9/10.

I love flashy combat, I enjoy hack and slash, so until the very end of the game I was having most fun in combat. Yes there was repetitiveness but I tried to combat (hehe) it with changing my abilities and weapons every now and then. I liked combos and I liked timed parries. Enemy tactics got a bit boring by the end, but a few enemies still surprised me and challenged me.

.... That's where positives end. Now on to the negatives.

1. Characters. 2/10.

I don't understand what happened. Almost all the characters in this game were tuned down to a two-dimensional personality, "good" and "bad" - and absolutely no nuance. This happened not only to the villains, but to the different NPCs and even our companions. Their interests got narrowed down to single points of interest (Lucanis and coffee being a prime example to me), their motivations got watered down.

This is not what I expect from a Bioware game. I want to be challenged, I want to dislike characters or approve of their choices. I like characters who are messy and complex and don't always have their shit together.

I like villains who may have other reasons for their choices, other than "ba ha ha, I am so evil and I will do evil things". Where is Alexius who sold himself to the Elder one, just so he could save his beloved son? Where is Samson, forsaken by the Chantry and turned to red lyrium with his addiction? Where is Calpernia, misguided in her choices, just to free the slaves of Tevinter?

Where are the slaves of Tevinter anyway?? That's another topic.

2. Rook. 4/10.

On one hand, I liked playing Rook. They were stoic but with a humorous side, ready to get the job done, compassionate to other people.

The problem is that it's the only Rook you can really play. The protagonist is set in their ways and their dialogues and there is very little to roleplay. Rook really does feel like a gentle manager, trying to get everyone to play along nicely, while providing therapy every now and then, and is excluded from the majority of friendly interactions with other people. That awkward glance everyone gives you after their banter is embarrassing. The way you can third wheel people, the way the game actively offers you to leave a couple of animated conversations between other people - why even include those? Why not make Rook a part of the 'team'?

I did like Rook's dynamic with Solas. They got to see a different side of him, one that's not presented heavily in Inquisition. But like everything else, it felt surface level and underexplored.

3. Story arc. 2/10.

I am left unsatisfied with the story. The pacing threw me off so much nearly every quest, it was hard to stay on track. From "we need to solve this NOW" to "actually, let's all slow down and deal with our problems", the plot's priorities were all over the place. We kept hearing about the gods and their destructive oppression, but we saw surprisingly little of it. Yes, there was the Blight, yes there were Venatori and the Antaam, but they felt more like a video game fodder and dressing rather than a part of the story.

Not to mention that all of those things made little sense to me. Why would the gods align with aforementioned factions? Why would the aforementioned factions align with the elven gods? In-game explanation was not enough for me, it did not make sense. Not with the established lore in the previous games.

I also did not enjoy the ending. While the idea of Solas binding himself to the Veil is good and does make sense, what was suggested as the good ending (inviting Mythal to deal with Solas essentially) actually left me feeling awful. I sent a man, full of regrets and self-loathing, on a lonely journey to figure himself out. That... did not sit right with me at all. Neither did the fact that Northern Thedas, supposedly the point of the gods' attack, gets to live and flourish, while Southern Thedas is dying of starvation and blight. That is UNHINGED to me.

4. Music. 1/10.

There was no music. I remember one track. It was not memorable whatsoever and I can't believe they hired Hans Zimmer to do exactly nothing. Just wow.

5. Lore. ???/10.

And here is the worst offender. What was done with Dragon Age lore is unacceptable. I was doing a head-in-hands every five minutes. This was a slap in the face of so many fans who enjoyed the three prior games and delved into deep, interesting lore of various races, countries, cultures and religions. Veilguard showed a big middle finger to all that.

Everyone has already touched upon the sanitization of different factions. From the suddenly slaveless Tevinter to found family Antivan Crows, everything has been scrubbed clean and made sweet and palatable and "good".

The Dalish clans have been removed from existence as we know them. The Antaam left the Qun? Don't even get me started on that. The Chantry has no influence in this game? Really? The Chantry? The biggest religion in Thedas? The one that we know has heavy presence in the Anderfels, the Black Divine in Tevinter? That Chantry?

I think it really hit me how disrespectful the game is during the quest of saving the Dalish elves, where apparently Elgar'nan's Venatori, uplifted to be his servants and chosen people, were trying to sacrifice them. It's a gross and oddly telling idea that the ancient Elven god turned to a faction of racist mages to sacrifice elven people. I actually can't believe I'm writing this. Just how much are you going to shaft these people? Mindboggling.

There is a lot more I have to say on this specific topic, and I probably will later, but the idea is this.

6. Romances. 2/10.

Whoever said this is a game with romance lied so hard. So hard. The romance was atrocious. From the badly written flirting to the lack of romantic scenes (I romanced Davrin), to the poorly timed and awkward 'final' romance moment... It was atrocious. I felt no connection between Rook and Davrin beyond what game was telling me. My actual companions got more screen time with their romances than me and my LI.

Damn, even Evka and Antoine, my single most beloved NPCs in this game, had more romance going on that my Rook.

---

All in all, Veilguard was a massive let down. After having enjoyed the first 3 games many times over, with multiple playthroughs, I was so excited to see how the story of the Inquisition, of the elves, would end. When I saw the first trailer for VG, I knew I would never get to see it. When I played the game, I was left with disappointment and disdain.

I'm glad there are people who enjoyed this game, genuinely. I'm sure there's something to find for anyone, but it was not for me. Nor was it for many other people. It was a let down. I feel like I'll never get the conclusion I wanted - so I'll have to write my own I guess.

I have more thoughts on this game that I might be sharing, but for now this is the review I wanted to write. Thanks for reading!

[zorosangell]

zoro and his girl who are always bickering and fighting and breaking up and getting back together again. atp, the other straw hats are used to it now. I can also imagine zoro NEVER apologizes and his idea of getting back together with his girl again is just acting like buisness as usual (just going back to her and sitting with her, throwing his arm around her shoulder, kissin her cheek, acting like nothing ever happened, etc) and usually, she’s receptive to it. Because even though she’s as stubborn as zoro (maybe even more), she hates arguing (and loves him too much).

but imagine during one of their arguments, Nami drags her out to go shopping at a island they stopped by, and she sees all these happy couples holding hands and being affectionate and just being sweet and soft with each other. she realizes…zoro is never sweet and soft with her. and he NEVER says I’m sorry (I imagine maybe she sees an arguing couple in the market, but the guy comes with flowers and an apology and it makes her wonder). She makes up her mind, she won’t take him back until he says those words, no matter what. I know this isn’t so descriptive, but I’d love to see you take on this! ❤️

⛥ﾟ・。 pit

synopsis: time and time again zoro has forgotten about your outings, leaving you dressed up and alone on several occasions. but after nami witnesses it in person, she finally puts her foot down... and you finally confront your swordsman.

cw: angst, very little comfort, happy-ish ending (left up for interpretation), zoro's kind of an asshole, nami's a girl's girl, reader is better than me.

a/n: listen to promise by laufey or casual by chappell roan if you want the full experience. i've never written a trifling zoro before this was crazy

"Why don't you stop wasting my time and give me a real discount?" Nami asked, firmly slamming her fist on the counter.

"Please don't be angry! I'm doing my best!" the cashier apologized, "But, c'mon, I can't take fifty percent off no matter how much you buy. They're marked down enough already!"

The man looked to be on the brink of tears, and you couldn't help but snicker.

"Nami, leave the poor man alone..." you smiled, feeling a little bad for him, "He's just doing his job. And besides, it's not like you can't afford it."

"Nope," she denied, popping the p as she grabbed another humongous pile of clothes. "It's the principle of the matter, (y/n). If I have the option to pay for something half-off, why would I pay full price?"

"They're not half-off!"

"Besides..." her gaze drifted to your outfit, a small pout settling on her lips as she looked you up and down with saddened eyes. "I can see that you are clearly trying to out-glam me, so I gotta glam back!"

She turned to the cashier, placing down the new pile.

"You drive a hard bargain. I'll buy these, too. But I want ninety percent off."

The man nearly fainted and you laughed, surprised by Nami's playful rivalry.

"Nami, you've owned more clothes than I've ever worn. I think it's safe to say that between the two of us, you're the one that's out-glamming me," you assured, resting your cheek in your palm as you leaned on the counter.

"But look at you!" she playfully whined. "Your outfit is killer! And your hair is on point, too!"

Though, just as quick as she examined your outfit, she realized that it was really good.

Too good to be shopping in.

"Wait, (y/n), were you supposed to be going somewhere? Why are y—"

The moment your face fell, the glimmer in your eyes dimming at the memory, reality finally donned on the navigator, hitting her like a sea train at top speed.

He did it again.

Anger rushed through the woman's veins like wildfire, her face not even attempting to conceal her fury as it twisted into an expression of absolute rage.

You knew it all too well.

"Nami, ple—" "I'll KILL HIM!"

The clothes on the counter were suddenly a thing of the past as the red-haired woman drew her Clima-Takt and stormed toward the exit of the boutique, the dangerous aura she was emanating sending a shiver down even your spine.

Like magnets, everything began to click for the woman.

The beautiful outfit.

The done-up hair.

The glum look on your face.

'That bastard stood her up again!'

That's why you had been wandering around town aimlessly.

You were waiting for him.

This scenario had become commonplace over the past several months you and the green-haired swordsman had been dating, much to Nami's severe indignation.

It was always the same.

You and Zoro would plan a date.

Zoro would get caught up training, or get caught up drinking, or just plain, old fucking forget.

You would end up alone, having gone through all the trouble and embarrassment.

She would have to console you, and you would have to keep her from bashing his head in.

Then you'd have to face the jerk the next day, who, instead of apologizing, simply acted like nothing ever happened.

As if the entire ship see how utterly crushed you were.

And then the whole cycle would repeat the following week.

Nami was sick of it.

'This shit ends today.'

"Nami, please! It's not worth it!" you ran out the store and after her, grabbing onto her arm. "It's not gonna change anything!"

"The hell it isn't!" she barked, brows cinched tightly together. "(y/n), I won't stand for this anymore! This is what?! The twentieth time?!"

"Twenty-third... but I'm not counting..." you corrected, meekly.

"(Y/N)!"

"I know! I know!" you sighed, plopping yourself down on the curb, defeated. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."

"There's nothing wrong with you! There's something wrong with him not realizing just how much of a fucking catch you are!" she groaned, exasperatedly, as she threw her hands in the air. "Twenty-three times, that bastard... I oughta chip his swords twenty-three times."

"I guess... I just don't get why..." you mumbled, looking down at your lap with glassy eyes. "Is it me? Am I doing something wrong?"

Nami turned to you, heart aching at your saddened form.

"Don't think that for another second!" she denied, quickly moving to take a seat next to you, pulling you into a small side hug. "You've done absolutely nothing to deserve this. Zoro's just being a real jackass."

"But there has to be some reason," you attempted to rationalize, tone rising. "Does he not care? Am I just that insignificant that he can't even waste an hour or two to spend time with me? His girlfriend?"

"That's what I've been saying!" Nami agreed, loudly, calling the attention of some passersby. "(y/n), you've given him chance after chance after chance, and he still hasn't cleaned up his act."

She gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, flashing you a sincere smile.

"I'm not saying you have to break up with him, unless that's what you want to do, but I'm saying that you really need to realize just how amazing you are, and hold him accountable for his actions."

Shooting up from her seat, she stood before you, pointing a manicured finger at your chest.

"You're the prize, girl! You're strong, smart, kind, compassionate, and drop-dead gorgeous! What guy wouldn't want that!" she turned to a few of the men passing by, a smile on her face. "Right?"

"YES!" they cheered, eagerly.

Your face burned with embarrassment.

"Nami!"

"You get my point!" she laughed, resting her hand on her hip. "You deserve someone who will treat you like the princess you are. Whether that's Zoro or not is up to you, but know that his track record begs to differ..."

Taking a moment, you let her words sink in, your confidence rising slowly but surely.

Maybe you were that great...

Maybe you did deserve more...

Maybe it was time to start anew...

"Y'know what... you're right! It's time for a change!" you smiled, slowly standing up from the curb. "No more tears!"

"Nope!" Nami cheered, proudly.

"No more excuses!"

"None of 'em!"

"No more pretending!"

"Not around here!"

"From now on, I'm gonna start living life for me! And if that means going out clubbing tonight and getting drunk to forget my problems, then so be it!"

"Y'know what, I'll take it! Let's go!" Nami squealed, the two of you quickly charging back into the boutique.

You couldn't fight off your smile, your shoulders feeling like an insurmountable weight had been lifted off them.

For the first time in a while, things didn't seem so bleak.

"Ooo, I think I saw the perfect revenge dress for you, (y/n)! It's gorgeous!"

Walking out of the girls' quarters, you felt like a million bucks—and were probably wearing it too with the amount of money you and Nami spent in town.

But price be damned, the result was phenomenal.

The provocative dress.

The decadent perfume.

The glittering jewelry.

The leg-extending heels.

You were absolutely breath-taking.

Not to say that you weren't before, but just significantly more so.

The dress itself was just the right amount of short, and helped carve out your curves deliciously.

Your hair was done courtesy of the ship's archaeologist, its style elegant yet loose to fit the club scene you were going to.

And your skin was practically glowing thanks to the oils Nami had picked up in the market.

So, it was safe to say you were at least a quadruple threat.

Looking down at yourself, you smiled, feeling like the prettiest woman in the world.

No longer concerned with the feelings of others, or the wrong-doings of yourself, you felt freer than you'd ever had.

And you had Nami to thank for it all.

'For finally knocking some sense into me...'

Sensing someone's presence, you pulled yourself out of your thoughts, only to see your swordsman standing right before you.

His eyes dragged over your body, almost analytically, a grin rising to his lips.

It seemed he finished his training early...

"Where are you goin' all dressed up?" he smirked, his hand coming up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer. "You look good... an' smell good, too."

Quickly, you pushed yourself out of his grasp, your legs pressing forward to stride across the balcony, leaving the him to stand there, surprised.

You had never pushed him away before, much less ignored him.

'What the hell?'

"What's the matter with you?" Zoro's voice lowered an octave, brows furrowed in confusion as he followed after you.

You didn't answer, keeping your gaze trained ahead as you pressed on, heading toward the stairs that led off the Sunny.

"(y/n)," he tried again, voice slightly firmer, as he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "(y/n), what the hell's your problem? Where are you going?"

Harshly, you flung his hand off, brows slowly beginning to crease at his audacity.

He was acting like nothing happened.

Again.

He knew exactly why you were fucking upset, but was making the choice to completely ignore it in favor of acting stupid and playing in your face.

Your jaw set tight, all your thoughts grinding to a screeching halt.

For the first time ever, anger and resentment began to claw at your chest, your hand itching to rise up and slap him right across the cheek.

Enough was enough.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," you spat, voice dripping with venom as you went back to walking. "I don't wanna see you right now."

"See me?" his brows furrowed as his finger pointed toward his chest, now even more confused. "The hell did I do?!"

Or maybe he was just fucking stupid...

Either way, you finally cracked.

"IT'S WHAT YOU DON'T DO, ZORO!" you roared, whipping back around to face him, the man flinching at your volume. "FOR GOD'S SAKE, IT'S ALWAYS BEEN WHAT YOU DON'T DO!"

The leak in the dam of your heart had finally turned into a full-on flood, and you were now outpouring months upon months upon months of pent up anger.

"You stand me up! You forget our dates! You make it abundantly clear that you would much rather spend the day nursing a sake bottle than with me!" you scoffed, throwing an exasperated hand in the air. "Do you even remember what we were supposed to do today?!"

The swordsman paused a moment, scouring his brain for recollection of the event.

"Hey, Zo'," you piped up from your spot in the corner, shutting the book Robin had loaned you. "I'm gettin' kinda hungry. You wanna grab lunch?"

He nodded, grinding out another squat as he lowered his knees to a ninety-degree angle, somehow perfectly controlling the two ton weight on his back.

"Yeah, you go on ahead," he grunted, holding the position. "I'll catch up. Gonna finish up this set."

"'Kay," you nodded, flashing him an eager smile. "I'll meet you at that sushi place we saw in town."

Zoro's eye shot wide, a sudden sense of dread sinking in his stomach as he finally remembered.

"Oh, shit..."

"Yeah... Oh, shit," you scoffed, turning to head off the ship. "I'm done with this..."

"Woah, woah, woah, wait a minute," he grabbed your arm once again, pulling you back. "(y/n), it was an accident... I didn't mean it."

"How the hell am I supposed to know that?! You never fucking apologize!" you yelled, jerking sharply away from his grasp. "At least that way it could seem like you're at least trying to pretend you care about me!"

"Of course, I care about you, (y/n)!"

"YOU CERTAINLY DON'T ACT LIKE IT!" your voice cracked.

He halted, expression falling and chest tugging with pain as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks.

You were hurting... bad.

And it was all his fault.

All of the times he left you hanging, all of the times he screwed up.

They were all coming back to haunt him, each one doubling the weight of the sinking pit in his stomach.

How could he have not seen?

You had been so patient with him—never raising your voice, never holding a grudge—and he supposed his mind had unconsciously took that as the green-light to proceed.

Granted, he never forgot anything or stood you up out of malice or actual lack of care.

It just... slipped his mind.

Though, in that, he could see where his thinking was flawed, and where you could find a problem.

"Am I... just that forgettable to you?" you asked, voice suddenly small.

Zoro snapped himself out of his thoughts, eye wide at your tone.

It sounded so distant.

"Of course, not, (y/n)," he quickly denied, lurching forward to hold you out of instinct. "I—"

But you stepped back, avoiding his grasp as your arms raised to hug yourself, hoping to keep everything together.

"Every time I look at you, I feel more alone," you continued, letting out a few sniffles. "I'm always, always reaching out to you, always down for whatever you want to do. But you just... never reach back... and you don't even bother to apologize..."

Glancing out at the sunset, you fought off the wobble of your lip, hugging yourself even tighter.

"Zoro... I can't be with someone that doesn't care about me..."

That's when everything suddenly came to a screeching halt.

Zoro felt like the words cut right through his chest, tearing through his heart and opening it up like force hell-bent on making him see.

He'd rarely felt this feeling, but he knew what it was instantly.

Fear.

"(y/n), don't do this," he started, panic slowly spiking in his veins. "I'm sorry for being such an idiot... but we can work this out. This doesn't have to be... it doesn't have to end like this..."

"But it does," you countered, quickly. "It isn't like this is your first time doing this, Zoro... or your third... or your tenth... or even your twentieth."

You scoffed, half-laughing at the situation.

"If I hadn't said anything, you probably would've made it to thirty."

Zoro's chest stung at the comment, the man almost letting out a wince.

It was harsh... but not without truth.

"I'm freeing myself of all of this, Zoro. I deserve better," you stated, firmly, slowly regaining your confidence as you turned away, heading for the stairs. "This conversation is over. And thanks to you, I'm late."

The swordsman looked just about ready to shit his pants, the finality of your words scaring him more than any enemy.

You were his girl.

His best friend.

His ray of sunshine.

Seeing you so upset, so jaded, because of his actions?

He felt like shit.

And, in that moment, he honestly wanted nothing more than to hold you.

To shower you with a thousand apologies.

To make it up to you in any and every way he could possible conceive.

But you were slipping through his fingers like smoke, blowing father and farther away.

"(y/n)... please..." he tried one final time, voice softer than you'd ever heard it before as he carefully grabbed your wrist.

And you nearly broke, the sound of his voice pulling a sharp string on your heart, nearly making you take everything back.

But Nami's words from earlier replayed in your mind, and you fought the feeling, pulling your arm away.

You had to stay strong, for both your sakes.

"We're done, Zoro," you finished, finally descending down the steps. "I'm moving on."

The swordsman watched as you disappeared in front of him, now suddenly feeling as if you were worlds away.

He'd finally done it.

He'd pushed you over the edge.

And rather than feeling angry or upset, or even sorry for himself, he felt empty.

Truly and utterly empty.

The rest of the crew watched from cracked doors and open windows as the man stood there, staring at the place you had once stood like he was in a trance.

Nobody wanted things to turn out this way.

It was clear as day that the both of you loved each other a great deal... but Zoro needed this.

He needed the wake up call.

And now that he was presented with all the necessary truth, he could finally work toward remedying the situation; and, by the will of the Gods, making up his dizzying amount of transgressions against you.

It would be hard work, and for the first time in his life, he would have to be completely vulnerable.

But the crew believed in him.

And the crew believed in you, too.

The both of you would come back from this stronger than ever.

And Zoro would come back to the crow's nest with a calendar hanging front and center on the door.

Courtesy of the ship's navigator.

[mmywanda]

Go to Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Mommy!Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warnings: bad relationship with mother, mommy!wanda, implied drugging, lactation kink, pet names. men & minors dni.

A/N: My first Wanda fic, pls be nice :,)

——

To say your relationship with your mother was rocky would have been an understatement. Most nights were full of screaming matches, mainly on her behalf but occasionally you lost your cool, unable to hold back.

"Just get out of my sight!" Your mother yelled, pointing to the front door of your shared home. You were old enough to get your own place, but you had been struggling to hold down jobs that earned proper money, consequently forcing you to stay living with your mom. Oh how you wished things were different.

"I'll sleep somewhere else tonight but I'm coming back tomorrow to take my things. I'm done here." Sadness and anger seeped through your words. This had happened enough times now, you having to sleep at a friend's house. But this was your last straw. You couldn't spend another night under this roof.

"Fine." Your mother looked away, seemingly unable to bear the sight of you. Taking a deep breath, you ran upstairs, grabbing the essentials, toiletries, a change of clothes and phone charger. Without saying another word to the other woman, you left the house, backpack slung over your shoulder. It was a cold night, causing you to shiver, wishing you'd brought a coat, but you weren't going back now. Your shaky hands reached for your phone, unlocking it and pulling up your friend's contact. At the same time, you saw it was almost one in the morning. Did you really want to disturb him? And besides, none of your friends were particularly close to you, not by your choice. It was like every friend you made, they just didn't like you enough. And you didn't know why.

As you scrolled through your contacts, desperately trying to find someone who would probably be awake, you caught sight of the woman who was very close with your mom.

Wanda Maximoff.

She had told you to call night or day, knowing the issues at home. And now seemed like the perfect time to utilize that offer. So you hesitantly pressed the call button. She picked up on the forth ring.

"(Y/N)?" A sleepy voice sounded through the phone, and you could picture her rubbing her eyes from tiredness.

"Hi.. uh.." Unexpectedly, tears started to form in your eyes, voice wavering. You heard a ruffle of sheets, she had sat up, her voice now turning into concern.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, then remembered she couldn't see you, so you mumbled, "Yeah.. uhm.. I just don't know where to go."

"Where are you? I'll come and pick you up." You could hear another ruffle, presumably Wanda getting ready to leave, but you quickly stopped her.

"No, no, I can walk to yours, I'm not far." You were already waking her up, intruding on her night, the least you could do was walk a couple of blocks. After her initial protests, she finally gave in. So you slipped your phone into the bag and started the journey. Walking alone at night always scared you, but it didn't take long before you were knocking on a door. The door swung open immediately, and you were met with a very worried Wanda.

"(Y/N), I've been so worried since you called." She wrapped her arms around you, and you could smell her floral scent. You'd always loved her. In fact, you'd spent most of your teenage years crushing on her secretly. Like any teenager, to be honest. You hugged her back, sniffling quietly.

"I—I'm sorry, I just didn't know where else to go, and everyone's asleep and you said to call whenever I wanted, and my mom hates me and—"

You were cut off by Wands pressing a finger to your lips. "Sweetheart, don't worry. Come in, you must be freezing." Her soft tone melted you to the core, and you couldn't help but follow her inside, shivering at the warmth. You weren't quite aware of what she was doing, because you were lost in your self destructive thoughts, but a few minutes later she was standing in front of you with a hot mug of cocoa. More tears prickled in your eyes, because not even your mother had shown you this type of kindness. You held the mug in your hands, warming up. Her thumb reached out and wiped your stray tears.

"It must have been a big fight, huh?"

You nodded, looking down at the smooth chocolate. "Yeah.. she told me to 'get out of her sight'. But I don't know—" You trailed off, a strain in your voice. "I don't know where I'm going to go. I have nowhere. None of my friends like me enough to let me sleep on their couch until I get my bearings."

She sighed softly, her empathy radiating off her. "You can stay with me, honey, as long as you like." Her voice was gentle, exactly what you needed, a stark contrast to the voice that had just been shouting at you.

"You mean that?" Your eyes lit up, feeling warm inside.

She chuckled, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. "Of course, sweetheart. I have a spare room already set up."

The relief spread through your body— you had a place to stay! Someone who actually wanted you!

"Thank you so much, thank you." Your thanks came gushing out, before she guided your hand on the mug up to your lips.

"Drink, darling."

You sipped, and the chocolate was sweet, slightly too sweet? You didn't give that any mind though, just drinking the warm liquid. "Mhm, this is good."

"Anything for you, sweet girl."

You suddenly felt very sleepy, eyes beginning to close. You hadn't been this tired before, right? "Sleepy.." You mumbled, body feeling heavy.

"That's okay, baby, let's get you to bed."

She took the mostly finished mug out of your hands, washing it up in an instant before slipping an arm around your waist and guiding you up the stairs. If you had been more aware, you would have noticed more of your surroundings. The pretty decor, the cosy feel of the house, but you weren't in any state to admire any of that.

"Poor thing.." She murmured, and led you into a bedroom. You collapsed on the bed, yawning softly as you curled up. You could smell the sheets, just the same as Wanda's scent. You smiled to yourself before realising you must be in her bed. You woke up a little more.

"I thought I was going in your spare room?"

She smiled knowingly, laying down beside you, pyjamas already on from before. "It's okay, baby, mommy wants you here." She whispered, pulling the sheets over your clothed body. "Don't worry about anything."

You tried to think straight, to wonder why she had called herself 'mommy', though you found that you didn't care at all. Your mouth felt dry all of a sudden, and you licked your lips, seeking out something you didn't know you wanted.

"Do you want to nurse on me, baby?" Wanda's voice was floating around you, through the clouds of sleepiness. You didn't want to ask what that meant because before you knew it, she was guiding your head towards her chest, where she had pulled down her night shirt to reveal her breast.

"Suckle, sweetheart, I know you want it."

You nodded mindlessly, your lips latching onto her nipple, sucking gently and humming when you felt the sweet taste of milk. Could life get any more perfect than this, you wondered.

"That's it honey, go to sleep. Mommy will be right with you."

——

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Iced Coffee & Scary Movies

AO3

>It seems you saved my life 💋 can I take you out for a drink to say thank you?🪳

Staring down at your phone you read the message again. This had to be Simon’s friend that you kissed before they all left for a job. He had been fun to talk to, a little shell-shocked when you layered on lipstick and proceeded to cover him with it before sending him out the door, but still fun.

< I'm still not calling you that. There is a cute early morning cafe I've been wanting to try if you're down.

The reply takes a while to come in. They must have just gotten back from their secretive jobs that take them out of the country. That thought brought on another one. Simon would be coming home and you hadn’t bought a single item of food since he left. He would notice but you prayed that he wouldn’t comment on it.

Your late-night coffee shop hadn’t been doing well. Either word had not gotten out to people that a place existed that wasn’t a bar to hang out late into the night or the universe was out to get you. Maybe you should print flyers to pass out at AA meetings. Now there was a thought.

Your coffee date met you at the cafe you suggested. You'd been wanting to try for months now, but most of your mornings were consumed by sleep since your shop stayed open to customers until 2 AM this was your first chance. Standing in the single beam of sunlight outside of the shop you waited.

When someone stepped close to you and stopped you opened your eyes and smiled.

Hi, ready to go in?

He still wore sunglasses and a surgical mask.

You nodded and turned to catch the door handle. Halfway open he caught the handle from behind you and opened it the rest of the way. He walks by your side as you move close enough to see the menu. A latte could tell you a lot about a coffee shop. Decided you turned to look at your date. His head shifted from side to side as he read the board. When he finally looked at you, he lifted a brow.

Smiling you signed your question.

Do you know what you want? I can order for us.

Iced caramel macchiato, large.

Your date waited with you; hands shoved in his pockets. You didn't take offense, bit hard to know where to go when you had assaulted him with kisses and sent him out the door.

Stepping to the counter you waited your turn. When your turn arrived, the barista called from the espresso machine.

"I'll be just a minute."

"Take your time." You knew how hard those rushes could be.

A few moments pass when the stressed but customer smile in place the barista is ready for your order.

"Hi, what can I get you?"

"Can I get a large iced macchiato and a medium lavender latte?"

"That everything?"

"Actually, I run After Dark a few streets into and I was wondering if you also get milk from one of the local farms."

The barista's brows shoot up, "I've been meaning to try your shop! Your open late right, like midnight?"

Que the awkward smile, "Two actually, but yeah."

"Oh man I love the idea of a late-night spot that isn't all about alcohol. To answer your question yes, has your milk been going bad really fast too?"

"Yes! I didn't want to stop ordering from them without asking another shop. I worried that I was just getting bad batches."

"Nope, not just you. Now I'll just be a moment to get these ready for you," he quoted the price, and you winced internally. You hadn't been paying yourself beyond rent for a couple months.

A card tapped to the POS from beside you. Your date pressed the 20% tip without hesitation, raising your opinion of him already. Stepping to the middle of the shop you waited for your drinks.

You signed as you spoke.

"Since I refuse to call you a bug, I'll just have to guess your name. Is Roman?"

His shoulders shook slightly in a laugh as he shook his head.

You tapped your chin with a finger.

“Hmm, must be Tilly then?”

You watch him laugh again, and shake his head.

“Ah, must be Galahad then!” You exclaim.

The smile the cracks under his mask can be seen in the way his cheeks pull to the side and the tips of his ears take on a splash of pink.

Gary. My name is Gary.

“Hi Gary, it’s nice to meet you.”

You would sign everything you could to him today. His ears must be on fire with how red they are.

Before he can reply your order is called out. Grabbing both, you hand him his drink before taking a sip of your own.

The warm flavors slide across the tongue and the lavender sits well in your nose.

“Good flavor, not overpowered by either the coffee or the lavender. How is yours?”

Gary shrugged. When he looked at your face you lifted a brow.

Watching the realization wash across him that you understood sign and even expected him to share his thoughts could be called magical.

Good, I like caramel.

“Did you want a sip of mine?” You tilt your cup to him.

He takes the cup, looks down at his hand full of drink and passes off his to you. He lifts the mask enough to try the warm drink. From his brows creeping above the sunglasses, you assume he is surprised but liked it.

Once his mask is settled back in place you trade drinks again.

Did you want to try some of mine?

“Sure,” you lean forward and sip the straw. The chill of the drink is interesting compared to the warmth of your still in your mouth.

“I like it. The weather is decent, did you want to walk?”

At his nod you head for the door. Again, he catches the door before you can hold it for him. Rolling your eyes with a smile you let him handle it.

“Do you like your job?”

Gary waggled his hand to and fro.

“Do you blow stuff up like Johnny?”

A croaking of a laugh has you smiling into your coffee. Taking that as a no.

Do you like having a coffee shop?

“I love it. I love the people who come through and making drinks and giving people a safe space to hang out that isn’t the bars.”

You can see the question in his shoulders.

“I don’t drink, for lots of reasons so going to bars has always been a bit boring for me.”

I would love to come by if you don’t mind.

“I would love if you came by, I even know your order now,” you bumped him with your shoulder.

Gary didn’t stand as tall as most of Simon’s men, but he had to be as solid as any of them. He didn’t move an inch.

What is your favorite science fact?

“Tough question.” You take a sip of your drink giving yourself time to think. “Flames don’t cast shadows.”

Gary stopped.

You made it two steps before you noticed.

Turning back, you can see him pushing up his sunglasses to send you a bewildered look. Biting your tongue you fight back a laugh.

“Do you need a moment?”

Shaking his head he settles his glasses back down on his nose as he falls back into step with you.

---- are more likely to get struck by lightning than people.

“What are?”

He signs the unfamiliar word again.

“Can you spell that for me?”

He pulls out his phone and after a few taps he shows you a giraffe.

“Oh! Is that what the sign is? Cool. Thanks for showing me. And that is an interesting fact.”

Conversation goes on like that until you see a small outdoor market. Gary doesn’t object when you drag him to every stall, showing him interesting art or magnets. You were taken by a pair of earrings, beautifully crafted, handmade and so out of your price range that putting them back didn’t hurt. Gary chatted with you about silly shirts and funny hats.

He warmed up to the date as it went on. Sharing jokes and observations that left you in stitches the day wore on. After you had looked at every booth, Gary took your hand, pulling you along this time. When he neared the movie theater he asked about a show.

Scary movie?

“I’m not a fan but I will make silly comments to you in the dark, so I don’t get too scared.”

Gary held your hand as he bought the tickets, and the popcorn. You visited the restroom before heading in for the movie. No use going into jump scares with an even semi-full bladder. He took your hand back up as you left the bathroom. The theater was empty when you looked around.

Top seats?  You signed to him.

Lifting your joined hands towards the stairs you take the lead. Settling below the projector you reach up at hand. A shadow large as life of your hand appears on the blank screen.

“Yes! I thought this theater might be the one,” turning to him with a grin you continue. “My brother and I would pick these seats when my mom would take us to the movies. We would have to stand on the seats to do it, but we would play shadow puppets while waiting for the show to start.”

You focus on contorting your fingers into a bunny. A dog appears and takes a shadow chomp of your bunny’s ears. Glancing over to Gary you caught sight of his smiling eyes. He had moved his sunglasses to hang off his shirt. The ten minutes until the previews started were filled with your giggles as Gary played shadow puppets with you.

When the movie starts you slide your hand into Gary’s and hold on for dear life as scare after scare tried to take you out. He typed out silly messages on his phone that he showed to you every time you jumped, leaving you laughing instead of cowering.

The walk to the flat you shared with Simon followed the pattern of laughter. When you got to the front door you turned.

“Did you want to come in? I have about an hour before I need to get at the shop.”

Gary shook his head. I have a few things to accomplish today.

“Okay, I can understand that,” you gave him a small smile. You truly didn’t mind; Simon often would be gone for long stretches even when he was home getting things done. “Thanks for the date Gary, I had fun.”

Me too. Hold out your hand.

You do, palm flat.

The pair of earrings that you had regretted not having the money to buy sat in your hand. When you could close your mouth and look up Gary had made it quite a distance.

“Gary!”

He turns enough to wave and keep walking.

Touched beyond words you watch him until he disappears. Looking back to your earrings you decide on an outfit to match them for work tonight.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[heartowan]

★ WINTER VISITOR : red hood x reader!

( cuss words ) ──────────────── ★

* im not from america so i have absolutely nooo idea how much is -20°c in fahrenheit im sorry 😭 *

You used to enjoy winter so much more when you were a kid. The snow, the warm clothes, the atmosphere, your mom's hot chocolate... everything was so perfect back then. Now, though, you didn't like it as much.

Not because you grew up to be an insufferable grump, but things weren't as easy. At 9, you didn't have to walk on snowy streets from campus to work to your house in a -20°C weather. Freezing your ass used to be fun when it was voluntary.

But, fortunately, the holidays were already coming, so you wouldn't have any more classes during these few weeks, and you'd also get a few breaks from your job at the bookstore. Finally, some rest.

That's what you thought when you approached your porch, pulling out the keys to open the door in a practiced movement, but you stopped when your eyes caught a glimpse of something red. Then you walked a little closer, and you were able to make out the shape of someone sitting down with their legs stretched, hand cluching their side, a weird helmet on their head and a little cropped brown jacket... what a weird combination.

You knew that helmet, though. You lived in his area, after all.

"Can I help you?" Anyone, literally, anyone, would advise you to not speak to him and simply go find some place else to crash for the night until he went away. The thing is, you wouldn't listen anyway.

He raised his head in your direction, the white eyes of that creepy/fucking weird helmet staring at you, sizing you up and probably judging the fact that you were wearing green tights and red shoes. But, hey, who even was he to judge your style choices?

"Actually, yeah." He said, and even with the modulator distorting his voice, you could hear the hoarsness and the faint tireness. "I'm fucked up over here, I'm not sure I can walk anymore."

You furrowed your eyebrows at that and reached for the phone in your pocket. Carefully, you crouched down beside him and turned on the torch to be able to see his wound better. "Let me see." You said, urging him to take his hand away.

He revealed the wound to you, and God, it was nasty. A bloody and very bumpy gash started from the left side of his abdomen to a little bit before the height of his shoulder blade. Absolutely disgusting. Whoever did that was probably trying to split him in half.

"Oh, my God." You mumbled, your eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah." He added, nodding his head in understanding to your shock. "Can you at least let me in to... I don't know? Clean it up? It just starts bleeding more if I walk, and I don't wanna get an infection."

What kind of stupid fucking little dumbo would let a stranger dressed like that into their house, especially in Gotham?

"Yeah, come on in." You said, your eyebrows furrowing even more at your own brainlessness. They were almost knitted together like a unibrow.

★...

He sat down on your couch like his body weighted tons, and you noticed how his wound did an odd ripple movement. It just got weirder.

"I have a first aid kit in my bathroom." You said, stripping off your coat and your jacket. "I'll go get it. Do you need anything else?" He just shook his head, and you quickly disappeared into the little hallway.

Red Hood used this moment to look around your house, trying to distract himself from the pain and dizziness. He took in how your walls weren't white, but some kind of eggshell color and there was a green wall too, that one covered in framed paintings, pictures and many posters, as well as some hanging plants.

There were just so many plants. Your couch was more comfortable than his bad, and you had a fluffy mat at the center of the living room, between the couch and your bookshelves, which were full of books he could barely recognize in the dim light.

Oh, yes, the lamps. You had little lamps everywhere and one big lamp beside the couch, but they were all warm and barely even illuminated a thing. They made the room very cozy, though.It was so homey, and it looked like you. If he saw you randomly on the street and for some reason he decided to guess what your house looked like from the inside, that would be it. Maybe not as many lamps, but still.

"Okay, I'm back." You walked out of the little hall in hurried steps, a little red box in your hands. You kneeled close to him on the couch. "Fuck, the lights." You mumbled, and he though your annoyed tone was funny, so he smiled a little under his helmet.

After switching on the big, white light, you kneeled again and gently moved the ripped fabric of his shirt away from the cut. He was staining your couch with blood, but you decided not to care at that moment. With some gauze and saline solution, you cleaned the whole thing up, the sides, and what you could reach of the insides, then, you sprayed some antiseptic on it.

"This is disgusting, but I don't think you'll need stitches." You murmured, not looking at him. Your eyes were focused on the wound. "At least not on the whole thing."

"I can manage." It was all he said.

"I'm gonna patch it up so it isn't exposed." He simply nodded at that, and you started covering the extension of the gash with the little pieces of gauze you had, and then, you secured them with some adhesive tape. "All done."

He stayed there for at least forty minutes, and you noticed how he seemed to have fallen asleep at some point. Maybe he was too tired. You didn't care, but you let him rest anyway.

When he woke up from his nap, you had changed outfits into something more comfortable than the jeans you wore before. A pair of gray sweatpants and a very soft brown hoodie on top of your black Iron Man t-shirt.

"You want some tea?" You offered, looking down at him as he seemed to access the situation — probably forgot what the hell had happened for a second.

"Yeah... yeah. What is it?" He mumbled, his distorted voice sounding groggy. You smiled faintly at that.

"It's peach and ginger." You said. "I like it."

You poured a small amount of it in a little mug you had. It was one of your favorites, with little leaves painted all over it.

"I put honey on it, tastes better." You handed him the mug. And then it hit you... how the hell was he gonna drink the tea with that weird ass helmet on? "How do you- oh."

He shut you up when he removed the helmet after one little click at the back of it.

"You wear a mask under your helmet?" You arched one eyebrow, and he chuckled at your reaction.

"It's for the effect." He said and took a sip of the tea. "Very sweet."

You took a moment to look at the exposed parts of his face. He had a few scars all over it, a sharp jaw and slightly plumpy lips, which were rosy from drinking the tea. He also had flushed cheeks, probably from the cold and a seemingly straight nose. You couldn't really tell the shape from that distance.

"Thanks for taking care of that... and for te tea. And for letting me nap on your couch." He said, looking up at you.

His voice sounded so melodic now without the modulator. It was just slightly raspy, not absurdly deep, but not even a little bit high, and just so much more easy on the ears than you'd ever expect Red Hood's voice to be.

"You're leaving?" You asked in a slightly exasperated tone that surprised both of you and put your own mug down. "You sure you're gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry." He shook his head, waving his hand as if to say it wasn't a big deal. You just shrugged at that.

He put his mug down, it was almost empty. So he liked the tea. With his helmet in hand and walking a little more stable than before, he offered you a small smile before stepping over to your door.

"Bye." He murmured. "Thanks again."

You stood there after he left, in your living room, with the big light on, staring at the door. What an unusual night. Your eyes drifted back to the blood stain on your couch, and you groaned internally at the fact that you were the one that was gonna have to clean that.

That only reinforced your belief that vigilantes only brought more and more trouble.

☆

first part here !!

[remusluvr]

i've got soul but i'm not a soldier | remus lupin

summary: Remus can't stay away from you anymore. You can't either. content: fem reader, p in v, lovey-dovey ness, love confessions, mentions of eating (directed towards Remus, nothing bad though), unprotected sex, unedited note: based off this request

"Where are you going?"

He's laid out on your couch, face turned to the tv until you walk into the room. He looks comfortable and you wish you could change out of your dress into sweatpants and curl up with him. But you can't so you shake the thought off, finishing putting in your earrings.

"Out, Wyatt asked me on a date. We're going to that new restaurant downtown." He sits up on the couch, hands rubbing down the length of his thighs.

"Will you come back tonight?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not sure. You know I don't mind you staying here. Don't feel like you need to leave." He hums in response, eyeing you as you search for your purse and wallet. His arm is thrown around the back of the couch as he watches you in your pretty black dress and pretty shoes. The clacking against the floor warms his soul.

"I don't like Wyatt-"

You roll your eyes. You've already had this conversation - "It doesn't matter if you like Wyatt, Remus. I like him." and "Well, it should matter what your best friend thinks."

"-Why can't you just stay with me? Quality friend bonding. We can even watch that stupid movie you like."

"Hard offer to decline but I'm already running a little late so we'll have to put a pin in this conversation." Walking over to him, he leans his head back on the couch. You lean down and kiss his forehead, leaving a bit of your lipstick on the skin. Your thumb rubs it away. "I'll see you later."

And with that, you leave. It used to be easier to get you to cancel dates and stay with him the whole night. You used to jump at the opportunity but now it's like you're jumping away from him. Maybe you are, maybe you're tired of liking him as more than friends should like the other so you're putting a stop to it.

He's left all alone on your couch. Secretly, he hopes your date crashes and burns.

You laugh all the way through dinner and practically plan your second date right then and there. He's just the type of guy you like. Handsome, intelligent, tall, sweet.

And at the end of the night, Wyatt walks you to the door, kisses you on the cheek, and tells you he'll call. Remus sees this from his position on the balcony, cigarette held idly between his fingers. He also sees the way you deflate after he walks away. Was it not a good date? Did Wyatt treat you badly?

"Have fun?" he asks, walking back in through the screen door. You startle, clutching at your chest as you mess with the buckle on your shoes.

"I did. We had a good time."

Remus wants to scream. He wants to be the one taking you on a date so badly. Everything inside of him yells at him to grow a pair, to finally bite the bullet. But, he can't bring himself to risk your friendship. You mean too much to him.

His heart is weighed down. The last thing he wants is for you to get into a relationship. It'll ruin everything. He won't be able to stay over as much, won't be able to hold you when you're having a bad day, won't be able to do any of the things he loves doing with you.

Wyatt's good for you, he'll make you happy. It's what you keep telling yourself in your head. You hate that you can't get Remus out of your head.

Remus feels erratic like he's clutching at straws with you, trying to get you to like him back. And you feel crazy for even thinking of him as more than a friend. You feel like a bad friend.

"Do you need help with those?" he laughs, watching the way you're still struggling to get the clasp of your shoe undone. Laughing, you kick your foot out towards him and he joins you on the floor. His nimble fingers are a much better fit for the job than your shaky ones. His hands rub your foot before working on the other one.

How are you supposed to not love him?

You thank him with a kiss on the cheek. He swoons, making you giggle at him.

"You look very pretty," he whispers, helping you stand up. Your face grows hot at his compliment as you wave him off, trekking back to your bedroom to change into your pajamas and wash your face for the night. He follows you. "I mean it. Wyatt's a lucky guy."

You don't say anything as you get ready for bed. He loves this time of the night, loves how comfortable you feel with him. And he especially loves the way he can pretend you're his. The moment is so domestic that it makes him feel dizzy and when you crawl onto the bed beside him, he digs himself deeper into his hole.

"Did you eat?" you ask, getting comfortable under your blankets. He shakes his head and you scold him, "Remus. You need food. You're always such a grouch when you don't eat."

"I am not the grouch when I don't eat. You are," he bites back, fingers poking at your side. You take offense, sitting up to look at him better.

"Why must you be so mean to me?" you tease, fake-crying so he'll feel bad. It works as it always does, and he cradles you into his arms, hand stroking your hair.

He knows you're faking, anyone in their right mind would know you're faking but it gives him an excuse to touch you. And you like the way he gets so protective over you. Nothing could ever affect you in this moment. His heart twists and his mouth moves faster than he can think.

"I'm glad we know each other."

"You're such a sap," you giggle, pulling your face away from his chest.

"Only for you." His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as you settle yourself into his neck. Your breath tickles him but he doesn't mind. The moment is so delicate he's afraid any movement could shatter it. "I feel like I'm losing you."

"Why? Because I went on a date?"

"Kinda, Wyatt's going to take you from me. But, also just cause I feel like you have been acting differently toward me."

Remus is right. You have been acting sort of differently. You don't reach out to him much, he's usually the one that just shows up on your doorstep.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to." You do mean to. It's easier to get over your feelings for someone if you have less contact with them. Maybe it doesn't exactly work if when you are with that person you act like this. All cuddly and wanting for him.

Wyatt was supposed to be a new start. He was a boy that actually liked you and that wanted to be with you. He was kind and loved to hear you ramble. He was respectful and handsome. You should like Wyatt, but you can't get Remus out of your head. You never have been and you never will, you fear.

"(Y/N)?" he asks after you've grown quiet for longer than usual. You hum. He tries to calm the shake in his body. "Please don't see him again."

"What?" you ask, sitting up, still in his lap.

"Please don't go on another date with him." He knows he sounds pathetic, begging for you, but he can't help it.

"Remus, why?" His hair is messy and he looks adorable.

"I can't see you with him. You shouldn't be with him. He's not right for you and I think you know that." You do know that. He swallows his fear as he continues on, "It's not fair that I can't have you. You mean everything to me and I can't see you with him. It hurts too much."

You're silent and his brain is screaming at him. His face is on fire as you look at him. He's an idiot. Why did he say anything? His throat burns with the threat of incoming tears and he swallows hard, pushing them away.

"I won't see him again." The look on his face melts you. It's one of confusion mixed with relief. You lean forward to ease his confusion, pressing your lips to his. He takes you willingly, hands holding your face. You whine when he pulls away first, chasing after his lips as he catches his breath.

You have a stupid smile on your face. He mirrors your expression as his head tips back against your headboard.

"You look pretty," you whisper, kissing at the exposed skin of his neck. His hands have a firm grip on your hips. You smile against his skin when he whimpers at your nibbling. "So, so pretty."

"Y-you should look at yourself," he whispers back, eyes shut as you kiss behind his ear. He can't believe his luck. He has the girl he's wanted since school in his lap, calling him pretty and biting at his ear. He must've died and gone to heaven for this to be happening.

"I wish you had said something sooner. Or I wish I had told you. Never would've even thought about another guy."

Yeah, he has to be dead.

"Lily's been nagging me to just tell you. She doesn't like Wyatt either," you mumble, enjoying the way he's so intoxicated on you. He likes your boldness. It doesn't happen often but the rush from your love confessions must have you giddy. You press kisses along his jawline, stopping at his lips. "You mean so much to me, was just scared that you'd freak out and leave me, y'know."

"Yeah, I get that," he sighs, deepening the kiss. His hand holds the back of your head to keep your face to his. It makes you feel shy. You know the perfect way to really kill him but you've never seen Remus in this light before and the knowledge of that strikes you down. He's left to be the bolder one, flipping you over and pressing you against your pillows.

You're panting into his mouth and he's loving every single second of it. He loves to be in control, loves having you yearning for more underneath him. Any composure he thought he had is gone when you pant out, "All I could think about on my date was hoping you were here when I got back."

He moans into your mouth, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. He's a goner. And despite the fact that he wants to do this right, he can't stop imagining what it would be like to fuck you. He can't though, not yet. He's got one chance and he won't fuck it up.

"You're making this very hard, sweetheart." He knows exactly what he'll do. He'll start with a nice date to a restaurant of your choice, maybe a walk or a drive after to somewhere with a nice view where he will kiss you chastely, and then when you return to either one of your apartments (yours preferably, he's been having a pest problem. the pests being James and Sirius) where he'll fuck you, like a gentleman.

"This?" you ask, voice smooth and sultry as your hand reaches down, palming him over his sweatpants. His plan flies out the window. Your fingers dip into the waistline of his pants, pulling lightly. "Want them off."

"Needy girl," he chastises as though he isn't already on the brink of cumming in his pants. He moves off the bed, removing his pants and boxers before laying back down, allowing you to crawl back over to him, hand wrapping around his cock.

He's definitely died.

You're glad that you don't have any roommates right now with how loud Remus is being. You love it. These are the only sounds you want to hear for the rest of your life. He hates that all the focus is on him.

He reaches out, pulling at the bottom of your shirt. You relent, releasing Remus from your grip to pull your shirt over your head. He sucks in a breath at the lacy bra you're wearing. You must have kept it on after your date.

A tinge of jealousy rushes through his veins at the thought of you wearing it for someone else. It quickly simmers out once he remembers that you're all his now. He smiles, pulling you to sit on his lap again.

"Rem," you sigh when he pulls the cups of your bra down, leaning in to pull one of your nipples between his teeth. He loves the squeak he gets out of you and the way you grind your hips down onto him. "Don't tease me, please."

"You make me so happy." He doesn't know where all this gooeyness is coming from. He's always felt it but the fact that he can say it aloud now has him keening. He watches the flush take over your cheeks as his hands settle on your hips, helping you move against him.

There are a lot of things Remus wants to do to you. He's glad that he has so much time to do them all with you.

It's difficult to focus when you can feel him underneath you. You're so wet that you're sure he'd be able to just slip right inside you, no prep needed. You test your luck, pushing your underwear to the side and guiding him with your hand.

"Oh my fucking god," he whines when you sink down on him. He holds you down, not letting you move. You lean forward, pressing kisses on his face. It's not helping. He needs to cum so bad and the feel of your wet cunt has only increased that feeling by tenfold.

"Let me move, I wanna make you feel good." It takes him a moment but he lets you take the lead, letting his head drop back against the headboard as he watches you. He can never go back to how you were before. He needs this at every moment of every day. "A-ah, you're so big."

"Doing s-such a good job, bunny." That's a new nickname. You like it. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his neck as you fuck yourself back on him. His hands grip your ass, spreading you open so you can really feel all of him. "So, so perfect for me."

He feels your lips pecking at his neck again and his arms wrap around you, taking complete control as he bounces you down on him. You don't have any time to warn him that you're about to cum before you're cumming. It pushes him right over the edge and he cums inside of you.

"Shit," he groans when he can think again. You're putty in his hands, letting his limp cock rest inside of you, no want to move any time soon. He pushes your face up with a few fingers at your chin. Your eyes are so heavy that they're barely open. He's proud of himself. "I'm sorry, baby."

"What?" you worry, eyes flying open. Did he think this was a mistake? Were you only a fuck to him? You can't go back now, not when you know how good he fucks you.

"I didn't mean to finish inside." Your heart rate returns to normal and you drop back down onto his shoulder, shrugging. You like it. His brain is spinning. His hands rub soothing circles on your back before he's working you off of him, cooing when you hiss at the overstimulation of him pulling out.

"Love you, Rem," you mumble as he helps you get comfortable in bed. He can't resist pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching over and turning your lamp off.

"Love you too."

[luveline]

maybe a reader and roan centered ficlet where roan gets to go to readers work for the day, be like her mini assistant because eddie couldn’t find anyone else to watch her while he had to do something?

ty for requesting ♡ fem reader

The phone rings at exactly 2PM as previously discussed. 

"Ro! Quick, come answer the phone for me, baby." 

Roan climbs out from under your desk where she's sorting paperclips into cuteness piles, the skirt of her best blue dress brushing your calves, her hair in a slicked back bun but coming undone as the day goes on. "What do I say?" she asks.

You pull her onto your lap. "You say, Hi, I'm Roan Munson with Cora Enterprise Limited, how may I help you?" 

She squares her features into a fierce, determined glare. Picking up your heavy grey phone, she presses her lips to the receiver and says, "Hi, I'm Roan! How can I help you, Cora?" 

Her eyebrows pinch together before smoothing, elation quick to take. "Daddy!" 

You can't hear what Eddie's saying, but you imagine it to be like, Hey, pumpkin, you sound so grown up! How's working for a mindless conglomerate as another cog in the machine working out for you? 

"It's fun." Roan tips her head back to look at you. When your gazes connect, she wiggles her thin brows. "She's fine, dad. We're having fun without you." 

Passionate garbled talk from the other side. Roan giggles and leans further into your chest, seemingly pleased when you wrap your arms around her stomach. 

"I learned how to do the printer, and the managing, but they wouldn't let me in the lab 'cos you picked shoes with cut outs. Yes, I know I asked for them, dad." Roan hands you the phone with an expression beyond her years. "He wants to talk to you." 

"Thanks, babe." You bring the phone to your ear. "Hello, Y/N speaking."

"Hello," Eddie says, his voice warm as usual, the sound like laying under the sun on a cloudless day. "Is she behaving?"

"She's being awesome. I told you, you don't have to worry about it. I'm practically alone in my office with Mel on maternity leave and Jessica trying to impress the Swedes." You stop Roan's little hand where it tries to open your top drawer, worried about the box cutter you use to unseal samples. "She's literally no fuss. I'd have her here every day if they let me." 

Roan gasps like this is the very best idea in the world and nods at you until her head looks like it's going to fall off. 

"They might have to. I can't believe it's day four of no water at the elementary. We're lucky you could take her, what are the parents who work jobs like me supposed to do?" he asks. 

"Maybe I can have them all here. Roan's a good assistant for a six year old. In fact, she's doing a better job than I was on my first day. Right, bubby?" you ask the head of curls in your lap. 

"Right!" Roan lifts her head to the receiver, her full row of top baby teeth white and shiny in the office lights. "I'm going to do the flying cabinet next!" 

"Filing," you correct. 

"Oh. That doesn't sound as fun." She wrinkles her nose. 

"Lunch first," you say. It's a good pacifier. Boring office tasks are usually easier after one of Eddie's sandwiches. 

"I'll leave you guys to it, then," Eddie says, muffled slightly by the roaring of an electric saw. "I'll try not to feel too left out over here." 

"If I were you I'd feel very left out," you say. 

"Nice. Love you, miss you, see you at five." 

You put the phone against Roan's pale ear. "Tell dad bye," you say. 

"Bye, daddy. I hope you have a nice lunch." 

Loving babble. Roan's smile gets bigger and bigger the longer Eddie talks. She stretches tall in your chair to put the phone down before twisting to wrap her arms around your shoulders, her nose cold where it presses into your throat. You bring a hand to the back of her head. 

"What's this for?" you ask, hugging her. 

"Dad said to give you one. And to say you didn't say I love you back, so, um, you're in the bad books." 

"Not the bad books," you murmur. 

"Don't worry. I get out of them all the time." 

—

more eddie, roan and reader