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#and who said a little bit of fun would hurt an old woman? (crack)
faruzxn · 5 months
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hm? what did you say? i'm old now, so every other phrase escapes my ears. try calling me "madam faruzan," and i'll see if i can pick that up.
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est: 07/26/23 - 9th genshin official account to be established! (SCREAMS THAT IS MY BIGGEST FLEX)
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faruzan-official! an rp blog central around rp(duh), crack, and multipara rp. Now faruzxn!
regarding shipping for ALL my accounts, every ship will get it's own verse unless mods involved are okay with drama or want drama. Please do inform me if you'd like to establish any sort of romantic connection between your muse. (but trust me I am giggling and kicking my feet if you ever ask I am very welcoming to the idea...)
DESPITE BEING RELATIVELY EXPERIENCED WITH MULTIPARA, I HAVE A PREFERENCE FOR CRACK. I AM ADMITTEDLY SILLY. SORRY. BUT I WILL STILL DO MULTIPARA THAT'S FUN TOO
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a. Mod will not accept anything of the sort like ableism, homophobia, transphobia, racism, etc. IMMEDIATE block. b. Keep it PG13. Mod herself is relatively young and a minor. So no nsfw. Mod is okay with suggestive topics, but please keep it to a minimum. c. Try not to mention any triggering topics? If you don't know what these are, mod being absolutely so honest with you, mod doesn't either. So if anyone is triggered by anything, please don't hesitate to send me a dm. Mod'll make a list of things to be wary of so she can keep a nice environment, okay? d. This legitmately all boils down to just... Just be respectful.
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known for having a gazillion accounts
runs the news blog @charlotte-official
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layout is mod's own, actually! (took her a gazillion years to make a remotely nice looking pinned.)
Oh! Final silly little quip! Mod's always around! even if it's not on my main (faruzan official) I have a ton of sideblogs and a main account where I fuck around with some other mod friends of mine, if you find it you're always welcome to interact!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
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tags:
faruzan speaks -> in character posts.
ooc -> out of character posts.
and who said a little bit of fun would hurt an old woman? (crack)
let me clear my throat. i tend to speak a lot. (multipara)
starter -> the beginning of a thread.
finished -> the end of a thread.
reply -> the replies in a thread, crack or not
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boldlyvoid · 3 years
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36 Questions to Fall in Love
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Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day
warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn
word count: 8K
A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article
Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.
“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”
Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.
You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.
She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.
“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”
A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.
“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.
“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.
Woo her.
The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.
She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.
She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.
She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.
“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.
“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.
“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.
She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.
“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.
“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.
“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.
“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”
“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”
She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”
Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”
“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”
“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.
He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.
“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.
“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.
They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.
“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.
“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.
He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.
She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.
“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.
“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”
“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.
“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”
He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.
“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”
He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”
He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”
He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”
“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”
She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”
He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.
“Love?” He repeats the word.
“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.
“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”
“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.
“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”
“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.
“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”
“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”
“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”
She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.
He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.
“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”
“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”
“That’s incredibly fair.”
“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.
“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”
She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”
“Like Penelope?”
She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”
“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”
“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”
“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.
“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.
“Nobody dies.”
“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.
“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”
“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”
“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”
He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”
“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”
“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”
“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”
She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.
“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”
“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.
“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—
“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”
He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”
“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”
“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”
“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”
“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”
She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”
“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”
“What did it feel like?”
She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.
“Warm.”
“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”
“Like a hug.”
Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”
“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”
“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”
“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.
“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.
“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”
“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.
To scare him and see if he still stays.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”
She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”
“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.
“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”
“Yes…”
“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”
“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”
“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”
“How so?”
“It only took me 9.”
It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.
“No, I walked over.”
She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”
“Are you living with Penelope?”
“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.
Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.
“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”
“Have you ever watched star trek?”
She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”
“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”
“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.
“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”
She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.
“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.
“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”
“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”
“Why?”
“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”
He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.
“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.
“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”
She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.
“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”
“Was he good to you?”
“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”
“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”
“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“
“I’m so sorry.”
He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”
She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.
“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”
They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.
“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”
“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”
They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”
“If I get to have kids.”
She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”
“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.
“Sleep beside the love of my life.”
“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.
“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.
He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”
“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.
“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.
“Penelope.”
“Derek.”
“Most treasured memory?”
“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”
“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”
“Most terrible memory?”
“My parents dying.”
“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”
She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”
“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”
“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”
“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”
“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.
“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”
She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”
“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.
“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”
“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”
“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”
“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”
“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”
He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”
“You’re very caring,” she replies.
“You see beauty in the world still.”
She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”
“You are beautiful.”
“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.
“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”
“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”
“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”
“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”
“Me too.”
“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”
“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”
“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”
He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”
“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.
“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”
“We are both hopeful.”
“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.
“We are,” she agrees with another smile.
“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”
“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”
“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”
It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”
“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”
“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”
“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”
She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”
He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”
She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”
“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”
She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”
“Tell me what you like about me already?”
Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”
His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”
She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”
“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”
“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”
“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.
“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.
“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.
Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”
“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.
“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”
He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”
“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”
“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”
“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.
“The book Maeve gave me.”
“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”
“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”
“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”
“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”
She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.
“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.
“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.
“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”
“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.
Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.
It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.
“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.
He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”
“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”
“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”
When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.
It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.
“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.
“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.
“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”
“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”
“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”
“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.
“Do you use it on many people?”
“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.
“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.
She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”
He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”
“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”
“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”
“Why?”
“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”
She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”
“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.
“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”
“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”
“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”
“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.
“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.
His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.
“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”
She comes back in then, “yes?”
“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.
“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”
And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?
“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”
She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”
“You’re right,” he smiles.
This was going to be interesting.
Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.
At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.
Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.
“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”
JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.
“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”
She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”
“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”
Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”
They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.
She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.
She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.
“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.
Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome?”
“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”
Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”
“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.
“Are you trying?”
He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”
Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.
“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”
He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.
When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.
They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.
To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.
taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk
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heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years
Text
Calling Out For Her
Cassandra Dimitrescu x She/Her Reader
A/N: Cassandra is my favorite I just love that girl. I thought it was real neat that Lady D could just call out for her and she’d appear so that inspired this. Some typical resident evil violence and language in here and Cassandra isn’t exactly nice at first, but she figures out how to be personable...kinda. Thanks for reading! Word Count: 6,158
(Y/n) was exceptionally careful. If tasked to understand what had allowed her to survive in the castle for so long, she would say it was because she was so careful, meticulous, with her work. All she had to do was follow a certain set of rules.
A polite tone brimming with reverence, ‘Yes Lady Dimitrescu’ or, ‘yes ladies Bela, Cassandra and Daniela’. Never a no, even if warranted, unless you want your eyes level with your toes and cool air meeting your stump of a neck. Always serve with a curtsy, never meet their eyes, never ask questions, keep your head down and clean, clean, clean like your life depends on it because like with everything else, it does.
The bottom line was that (Y/n) knew how to survive in the castle of Dimitrescu. It took tact, forward thinking, and a bit of luck. But today, after a very respectable nine months of service, (Y/n)’s luck had apparently run out. She had royally fucked up.
“Oh, fuck me—!“ (Y/n) hissed, followed by a sharp gasp as her grip slipped because of the dip of the chandelier.
She had no one to blame but herself. She had been assigned to clean the banisters and chandeliers of the foyer and had leaned out just a little too far with her duster. Thus, her scramble for purchase on the confounding light fixture to save her from cracking her skull on the marble floor below.
“H...help!” (Y/n) called, barely above her usual speaking tone. She dared not speak louder for fear of alerting any of the bloodthirsty daughters of her predicament. She could only hope one of her fellow maids was working nearby.
“No, nonono—“ the words left (Y/n)’s  mouth faster than her lips could move. One of the metal weldings that held up the chandelier was creaking and becoming dangerously loose as time ticked by.
“Help!” (Y/n) called a little louder, the desperation bleeding into her tone as her fingers dug painfully into the decorative, jewel encrusted rim of the chandelier.
Yet still not a sound besides the creak of old metal giving way. Nine months of service to the Lady of the Castle and this was never how (Y/n) imagined she’d go. It wasn’t uncommon for some maids to take their life by their own hand, but (Y/n) wanted to keep fighting—!
“Ah!” (Y/n) cried sharply. The chandelier’s tether frayed a bit further, causing it to drop a few inches. She was fully panicking now, arms aching and chest heaving as she dangled. She made the mistake of looking at the cold, hard floor below and that only made her heart beat faster. She didn’t want to go out like this!
The chandelier fell another inch, stinging (Y/n)’s fingers. She was gripping so hard she was sure her fingers must have been bleeding. She needed someone, anyone to come and somehow in her panicked state, she thought of her Lady. If her Lady needed something done and done fast, all she had to do was call out her name and she would be there in an instant. Somehow in (Y/n)’s desperate mind, she thought that calling upon the most ruthless of the Dimitrescu Family was her best course of action.
“Cassandra!” (Y/n) yelled, closing her eyes tightly and fighting to maintain her precarious grip.
For a few seconds, there was just the creaking the chandelier and (Y/n) didn’t know whether to be relieved or devastated by the silence. Before she could resign herself to her fate, a faint buzzing could be heard below, growing in intensity until (Y/n) could see the swarm of blowflies collecting below her until they completely formed the middle Dimitrescu daughter. She looked up at (Y/n) with a sneer on her blood stained lips.
“Well, well, well. I must say that this is a first for me.” Cassandra hummed, a fist over her hip as she craned her head up, twisting this way and that to really get a good look. Yes, a maid hanging from a chandelier must have been a novelty to the monstrous woman indeed.
“Just how did you get into this predicament little mouse? Perhaps you are more of a monkey, hmm?” Cassandra giggled sadistically before idly licking the blood from her lips, smearing it around more than anything.
“I leaned too far over the banister while I was dusting.” (Y/n) explained through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her aching grip.
“Mmm, how clumsy of you.” Cassandra laughed again, moving her arms to rest across her chest, she propped her chin up in her gloved hand as she regarded (Y/n) with glee. “You know, I was going to skin you alive. You had called me away from cellar time after all, new arrivals are always the most fun to break. Not to mention that you, some lowly maid, think that I, a noblewoman of the House, am at your beck and call. Yes, I was going to kill you myself but now I’m curious,” Cassandra’s smirk widened to a full blown maniacal grin, “what will give out first? Your arms, or the chandelier?”
“Lady Cassandra, please!” (Y/n) wasn’t sure where she thought pleading would get her, but people will do all kinds of things they wouldn’t normally do under duress. Including begging a known sadistic killer to save them from certain death.
“Oh, she remembers her manners!” Cassandra mocked, “Do me a favor and just fall already. I fear I might be developing a crick in my neck.”
(Y/n) could feel the heat of incoming tears sting her eyes as she dangled several feet above her one woman audience. Well, no one could say she didn’t try. She started mumbling a little prayer for herself that turned into a yelp as the chandelier fell another half a foot, a much larger drop than the occasional two to three inches. The sudden gravity shift yanked (Y/n)’s hands clean off the chandelier, slicing her skin terribly as she tried to grab back on. She missed, she was falling.
(Y/n) couldn’t even scream, she just closed her eyes as tightly as she could and waited to meet the ground... speaking of which, shouldn’t she have hit it already?
(Y/n) peeled open an eye and slowly allowed herself to finally take in the buzzing that was surrounding her. Blowflies. She peered down past the swarm to see Cassandra, half formed with her arms outstretched, ready to receive her. (Y/n) could only stare, mouth slightly agape, as she was settled in Cassandra’s arms, watching the blowflies that had carried her mesh back into Cassandra’s legs.
“Why so surprised?” Cassandra asked with a mock sweetness that made (Y/n) shiver, “I simply couldn’t let you die just yet. No, I think I’d like to play with you just a little while longer.”
Cassandra happened to glance at the bloody hands clutched tightly to the maid’s chest and hummed. Adjusting her strong hold on the paralyzed maiden, she clutched the outermost wrist tightly and pulled it to her bloodied lips for a sample.
“Mm,” Cassandra appraised, passing her tongue over the cuts again, “yes, I think I’ll enjoy taking my time with you.” She cackled before unceremoniously dropping (Y/n) to the floor at a much safer, but still painful height.
“Go patch yourself up, my prey. You’re dismissed.” She said and then, she dispersed into a swarm of blowflies and was gone, her laughter bouncing off of the high ceilings.
(Y/n) sat on the floor dumbstruck, before finally getting up on shaky legs. She made her way to the maid’s quarters and upon seeing that it was empty, she allowed herself to cry as she cleaned and dressed her fingers. Lady Cassandra had saved her, saved her for a worse fate by her own hand no doubt. All she could do was wait.
***
Cassandra was a menace.
After the chandelier incident, (Y/n) found herself assigned to areas of the castle that Cassandra was known to frequent. There was never a minute’s rest when the middle child was free from her mother and sisters and even if Cassandra was occupied, (Y/n) often found herself nipped by the occasional stray blowfly as she did her work. There was no question in her mind where they had come from.
Yes, having caught Lady Cassandra’s eye had created a lot of extra work for the poor girl with extra antagonism. She’d poke and prod and pull, jostling (Y/n) around while she tried to stay on task. She would drag bloodied bodies through the carpeted halls (Y/n) had just cleaned and laugh as the poor maid went to restock her cleaning supplies. Cassandra would even demand (Y/n) drop everything to run her baths when she had grow tired of running around with blood smeared all over her like a toddler left alone with finger paints. She’d smugly present her bloodied face to (Y/n), silently demanding she wipe it clean for her and when she was satisfied, she would lean back in her tub and order (Y/n) to clean the bloodied weapons she’d drop dangerously close to her feet.  
Cassandra was insufferable, yet, (Y/n) couldn’t help but think positively because it could have easily been much worse. For as taxing as dealing with Cassandra could be, she had never hurt her, not really anyway. Not like the poor maid who went to clean the armory and left with one less arm than she went in with. The occasional bite of a blowfly stung and the shoves and pinches could be bruising, but at least she still had all her limbs, no broken bones or sickle scars puckering her skin.
(Y/n) sighed to herself as she polished the same battle axe for the third time that week. She was the only maid allowed to clean the armory anymore after Bianca lost her arm. Lady Cassandra had said that only (Y/n) knew how to clean her toys with proper care and could make them twice as shiny and sharp. A few of the other maids would darkly joke with (Y/n) in the serving quarters about the middle Dimitrescu having a crush on her, but (Y/n) would simply dismiss their gossip and continue her work without complaint. Such rumors could be dangerous after all.
As (Y/n) heaved the axe back into its place on the wall, she heard the thrum of quick light feet running across the carpeted hall just outside. She frowned to herself, but kept working. Assuming it was just just another poor girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However the door the the armory clicked open, and the slightly out of breath maid (Y/n) recognized as Moiara peaked in, flushed from all her running no doubt.
“Lady Dimitrescu is ordering all of the maids back to their quarters immediately.” The girl urgently informed.
“Whatever for?” (Y/n) asked, brows furrowed in concern. It was a most unusual order.
“Apparently a pack of Moroaica have escaped the cellar and are currently roaming the castle. The Lady’s daughters are hunting them down, but it could take some time to clear everything up. Lady Dimitrescu doesn’t wish to lose more workers than she can replace.” Moiara explained, albeit the last line came out a touch bitterly.
“I understand, I’ll make my way now. Be safe.”
“Thank you.” Moiara nodded before darting off again.
(Y/n) cautiously made her way to the door and peered down both ends of the hallway. Noting that it was clear, she left the doorway and shut the armory door before quickly walking in the direction of the maid’s quarters. It was quite a walk and (Y/n)’s heart went out to Moiara and the rest of the girls who were still scattered further within the castle’s walls.
The halls were eerily quiet and empty, not unusual, but with the added threat lurking, well, it made it a tad more unsettling. It was laughable really, for (Y/n) to be afraid now. The threat of death loomed over her head constantly and only now she was concerned?
(Y/n) chuckled despite herself as she rounded another bend, hardly checking her surroundings as she crossed the third hallway and then the fourth.
“Oh!” (Y/n) tripped on a raised wrinkle in the rug, her hand automatically grasped the curtain beside her to steady herself. She was lucky it didn’t rip or surely the Lady of the House would have her head, never mind the Moroaica.
As she made to steady herself on her own two feet again, the curtain she had grasped twisted harshly and was ripped from her surprised and slackened grip. (Y/n) felt her blood run cold and her feet turn to lead as the ‘curtain’ reached out for her, revealing rotten, gnarled fingers that snapped (Y/n)’s bicep in a firm squeeze. As it completed its turn, (Y/n) saw scraggly, yellowed teeth lunge for her neck.
She attempted to keep the stray Moroaica at bay. The whole interaction, frightening and life threatening as it was, was a near silent struggle. It was as if (Y/n) had lost her voice completely. All that came from her were stuttering gasps as the creature snarled and snapped at her.
It wrestled her to the floor and clawed at her clothes and skin, drawing the blood that it seemed to desperately crave. (Y/n) struggled and kicked at the creature but it was unrelenting and finally something happened that helped (Y/n) find her voice, she screamed.
The Moroaica clawed at her ribs, tearing fabric, skin and muscle alike. (Y/n)’s fighting grew weaker the more the monster dug at her and her mouth was still parted from her pained screams but they were now near silent croaks as the pain and blood loss threatened her consciousness. Seemingly noticing her weakened state, the Moroaica neared its yellowing teeth to her exposed flesh and—
“Oo, look Bela! I found another one~!”
(Y/n) reflexively closed her eyes and felt something hot and wet splatter across her face. She heard a squelching noise and felt dead weight fall against her body as Daniela’s giggles filled the hall.
“You shouldn’t be having so much fun.” Bela grumbled at her sister. “I knew mother should have sent you to your room. It would have been a more fitting punishment.”
“Okay, so maybe I forgot to lock the cellar, but you can’t say you aren’t having a good time as well.” Daniela said, grinning when Bela rolled her eyes, a small shadow of a smile forming on the eldest sister’s lips.
“Aw, look,” Daniela grunted, kicking at the dead Moroaica until its corpse rolled off of (Y/n), “well, let’s not let her go to waste. Her blood still smells good.”
“Wait, Daniela,” Bela said, holding her younger sister’s shoulder as she peered down at the bloodied maid her breaths coming raggedly as she fought to open her eyes. Bela sniffed and winced, shooting her sister a look.
“Daniela, take a closer look.”
“Ugh, fine,” the youngest groaned and leaned forward, “I don’t see why...” Daniela paused, her back went rigid. She just stared at (Y/n) for a few moments before finally turning to her sister, lips pursed.
“Cass is literally going to kill me.”
“You think?” Bela said, almost with complete disinterest.
“Well, don’t just stand there. Help me! If she dies, I die!” Daniela hissed, couching beside (Y/n) to assess the damage.
“I don’t know, I think I would kind of like to see Cassandra hunt you for sport.” Bela smirked.
“Bela!”
“Alright, alright.” Bela sighed, couching at (Y/n)’s other side.
The last thing the maid could make out before succumbing to unconsciousness was a dull, muffled buzzing and a feeling of weightlessness.
***
When (Y/n) awoke, she immediately noted that her throat was drier than a desert wind; her stomach and ribs also burned and itched like nothing she had ever experienced. She gingerly touched her stomach and found it covered in bandages. Her head ached so she pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes for a few moments.
With great effort she hoisted herself into a sitting position and had to do a double take of her surroundings. This was not the maid’s quarters and given the amount of time she had been spending in here lately, she was quick to realize she was in Lady Cassandra’s room, in her bed. Before (Y/n) could really let it all sink in, the door was yanked open.
Cassandra stalked in, shutting the door tightly behind her before standing over (Y/n) with a fire blazing in her golden eyes. A blowfly (Y/n) had initially failed to notice crawled down the bedpost before meshing back into Cassandra’s body. Apparently she had been being watched.
“Why didn’t you call for me?” Cassandra gritted out, gripping the bedpost so hard (Y/n) was afraid it would splinter.
“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) questioned, still feeling numb and achy and not at all ready for such aggressive energy.
“Glad to know you still remember.”Cassandra said mockingly before her voice became low and serious again, “You were in trouble, why didn’t you call for me?”
“I don’t...” (Y/n) winced and held her head, it felt like she was on a boat in rocky waters.
Cassandra took notice and with surprising gentleness, lowered (Y/n) to rest fully against the bed once more. She even offered (Y/n) water and helped her drink. Then she checked her temperature, the cool touch of her skin felt wonderful against (Y/n)’s aching head.
“What happened?” (Y/n) murmured, whining when Cassandra went to remove her hand. A bit hesitantly, she put it back. A small, prideful smile curved at her lips when (Y/n) relaxed against her touch.
“Don’t you remember?” Cassandra scoffed, “I swear, you humans are so unbelievably fragile. You were attacked by a Moroaica that strayed from its pack. Bela and the idiot who caused the whole mess found you. I did some sucking up to mother and we fixed you up with a little herbal remedy,” Cassandra frowned her voice becoming a tad accusatory, “Yet you still slept for a long time.”
“I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience Lady Cassandra.” (Y/n) spoke up after trying to absorb all that Cassandra had told her. Surely it would have taken more than a, ‘little herbal remedy’ to fix what had happened to her.
(Y/n) scrunched her eyes shut when Cassandra suddenly growled and pinched the maid’s nose.
“I’m glad you realize it. Do you know how infuriating it is to watch another maid handle my weaponry all wrong? To not make my room the way that I like it? Ugh, I’d have killed them all if mother let me.” She let go of (Y/n)’s nose, swiping the side of her index finger playfully over the bridge a couple times before re-settling her hand over (Y/n)’s cheek.
“That’s why, when you’re all better, you are going to have to train one of those imbeciles how to do it right.”
“I can do it myself, Lady Cassandra. I can get back to work tomorrow I’m sure of it.” (Y/n) nearly pleaded. She was sure any girl she trained would end up killed anyway. There were too many little things that could set Cassandra off to count.
“There is no more cleaning for you. You’re retired.”
“Retired?” (Y/n) couldn’t help but gawk up at Cassandra. The notion was wholly unbelievable. No one retired from serving the Dimitrescus’ unless you counted dying as a form of retirement.
“Yes.” Cassandra said with near vicious finality.
“Lady Cassandra, my parents count on the lei I send them from my job here, please reconsider. There is no work for me back at the village and I’d just be another mouth my family cannot afford to feed.” (Y/n) beseeched, her body quaked with fever.
“Calm yourself.” Cassandra spoke as if attempting to be soft, but was still very on edge. “Your family will still receive money. You aren’t going back to the village.”
“I’m not?” (Y/n)’s brows drew together with further confusion, “but, then what will be my purpose if I’m not to work?”
“Does it really matter?” Cassandra flustered, a buzzing sound filled the space between them, “Your family is getting money and you don’t have to do anything for it, be grateful!” Cassandra pinched (Y/n)’s cheek a bit harshly before standing and stalking away. The buzzing following her as she tore the door open once more.
“I’ll be back with lunch.” The Dimitrescu grumbled before closing the door behind her once more.
“What is going on?” (Y/n) whispered to herself in disbelief before resting her head fully back against the pillow. She caught movement in the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to watch a blowfly crawl back into the dark canopy of the bed.
***
(Y/n) wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Suddenly, she had all this free time on her hands and would for a long time apparently. It was nice when she was still recovering, but now that she had healed, she felt antsy.
Cassandra had handpicked a trembling maid for (Y/n) to train, but even those sessions did not last long as the poor girl, Anca was her name, was still expected to complete other chores. Something that did help to pass the time however was Cassandra herself, strangely enough. She was always the one to bring (Y/n) meals unless she was busy with some task her mother had given her, also giving (Y/n) little gifts and talking to her throughout each day. Sometimes the ‘gifts’ were gruesome and the talks seemed more like interrogations, but the effort in which Cassandra put into every interaction left (Y/n) intrigued with, and appreciative of the middle child.
Now wasn’t one of those times unfortunately, and (Y/n) found herself pacing the floor of her room, yes, one of her very own. Given to her by Cassandra right across the hall from her own. Now that she was well enough to do more on her own, she had been moved there about three weeks ago to have her own space. Another thing that was unheard of coming from the middle Dimitrescu. (Y/n) paused by the window to look out upon the snowy ground below.
“Miss (Y/n)?” A knock on the door, “May I speak with you?”
“Anca,” (Y/n) paused her paces, that was strange. There had been no plans for a lesson tonight. Nevertheless, (Y/n) was happy for the company. Ever since Cassandra had removed her from service, the other maids had avoided (Y/n) like a plague “please come in.”
The nervous little maid came in, closing the door tightly behind her, shoulders stiff as she slowly approached and took a seat in the chair (Y/n) offered to her.
“Are you alright? You’re shaking.” (Y/n) frowned, reaching out to comfort her only to watch Anca shrink away from her hand.
“Lady Cassandra,” she spoke, looking wildly around the room, “she will kill me I’m sure of it. What game are you playing?”
“Game? I’m playing no game.” (Y/n) tried to assure. “Has she said anything to you? I promise I’m covering every base I can—”
“You aren’t doing enough!” She screeched, startling the other. “I’ve seen the way she treats you. The privileges you’ve gained. This is all a set up! You were in my shoes not long ago, have you really lost your humanity so quickly?”
“Anca, please, calm yourself. I’m not working against you, I swear.” (Y/n) tried to explain. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help you. How can I help you?”
“How?” Anca mumbled, rubbing at her dark rimmed eyes. “It’s all because of you that I’m in this mess to begin with!”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Anca.”
“No, I really don’t think you are.” Anca sniffed, rising from her chair. “But maybe there is something you can do to help me. I’m already dead, but I want to hurt Lady Cassandra before I go and I think I can do just that,” she pulled a knife from her apron, “if I take you down with me!”
“Anca!” (Y/n) screamed, stumbling away just before the knife could strike her.
“Just hold still! I’ll do it fast, please!” Anca cried as she swiped at her again. “Let me just have this one thing! This one last fuck you to this hell hole!”
“Stop! You’re making a mistake!” (Y/n) tried again, wrestling with Anca for the knife.
The scuffle went on for minutes before (Y/n) was thrown to the back wall, the knife missed her head just barely and sunk into the wood behind her. As Anca struggled to hold her in place and wedge the knife free, (Y/n) called out for her without even realizing it until the blood drained from Anca’s face.
“Cassandra!”
“No, shut up! Shut up you bitch!” Anca squealed, rocking the knife more vigorously.
“Cass—“ (Y/n) tried to call out again, this time fully aware of what she was doing, only to be head-butted by Anca in a desperate attempt to quiet her while she continued to work at the knife.
It was too late for that however, as proven by angry buzzing sounds roaring through the hallway and sliding under the door before forming right at Anca’s back, a cold hand joined Anca’s over the knife and grasped her so hard, (Y/n) could hear the maid’s fingers crack.
“You want this knife, do you?” Cassandra sneered, “Please, allow me.”
Cassandra tugged the knife from the wall like it had been warm butter, Anca’s hand still clenched in her own. She used her other arm to pull Anca off of (Y/n) with a rough tug and hardly took more than a few steps away before plunging the knife deep into the girl’s chest.
“There you go. You’re welcome you miserable little wretch.” Cassandra raked the knife downward, slicing Anca’s flesh all the way down to the hip as the poor girl screamed. “That will teach you to touch what doesn’t belong to you!”
(Y/n) could only watch, wide-eyed and trembling as Cassandra dissolved into her swarm, allowing Anca to fall to the floor before hundreds of little mouths began working at her flesh until the screaming ceased and all that was discernible was a frozen expression of agony on Anca’s face.
The blowflies came back together after a few more moments of feeding and Cassandra reformed, crouched beside (Y/n). (Y/n) didn’t even realize she had sunk to the floor during the gruesome attack.
Cassandra raised a blood covered hand to (Y/n)’s cheek, turning the face in her grasp, she assessed the damage, buzzing all the while. Somehow the sound felt, calming, reassuring. (Y/n) didn’t even flinch away from her touches and instead found herself leaning into them.
“Just look at what that thing did to you,” Cassandra hissed as she watched the blood leak from (Y/n)’s nose, “I should have killed her even slower.”
(Y/n) sniffled, leaning her head on Cassandra’s shoulder, “Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll always come to you if you call for me,” Cassandra sighed and pulled (Y/n) into her lap. She smelled almost overwhelmingly of blood, but (Y/n) couldn’t bring herself to care. “No one has ever called for me like you have before. No one that wasn’t my mother or sisters anyway,” Cassandra bit her lip, “I... at first, I was enraged that you called for me that first time, but the more I thought about it... Ugh! You made me feel all gross and buzzy inside. I’m just so used to humans fearing me, associating me with death. Never have I been called by one expecting to be saved from it.”
“Is that why you helped me after that Moroaica had attacked me?” (Y/n) asked, her voice still muffled by Cassandra’s shoulder. She didn’t really want to catch sight of Anca’s remains again while in the arms of her killer.
“Yes. I’m still mad at you for that.” Cassandra growled, “Why didn’t you call for me that time? I thought we had an understanding.”
“I’m sorry,” (Y/n) chuckled despite everything, “But I think understandings are usually met through open communication. I’m sorry I didn’t interpret your bug bites and general antagonisms as anything but blatant harassment.”
“Excuse me?” Cassandra snarled, reminding (Y/n) just how frightening she could be.
“I, I’m sorry Lady Cassandra. I forget myself.” (Y/n) stammered before gasping as Cassandra effortlessly rose to her feet with (Y/n) still in her arms.
“You must be awfully tired to be so mouthy. I can’t imagine you’ll want to sleep with a corpse on your rug so you’ll just have to sleep in my room until the maids clean this mess up. I suppose I’ll need to fix your nose too. So fragile, my prey is.” Cassandra sighed, clearly feeling inconvenienced by the whole situation. Though she carefully maneuvered out of the doorway so (Y/n) wouldn’t bump against it as they made the short trip across the hall to her room.
“You treat me quite well for being prey.” (Y/n) tested with caution. “You protect me, but why? Is it all so you can end me yourself at your own leisure?”
“Oh wow Cass, you really know how to make a maiden feel special.”
“I knew she was full of it, Bela! I bet they haven’t so much as kissed yet!”
(Y/n) felt Cassandra’s grip on her tighten as the mocking voices of her sisters closed in on them before Cassandra could slink into her room.
“Shut the hell up and mind your own business!” Cassandra fumed, crossing the threshold into her room before kicking the door shut, making a thunderous slam reverberate off of the castle walls.
Bela and Daniela merely giggled, seeping through the cracks of the doors before reforming over their sister’s bed, nearly falling on top of each other as Cassandra sped past them to take (Y/n) into her en-suite bathroom.
She placed (Y/n) on top on the counter and tweaked her nose without warning, making (Y/n) yelp in pain.
“Quiet prey, I needed to set your nose back into place is all,” Cassandra wrinkled her nose as more blood oozed from the abused cartilage, “damn, why must you smell so enticing.”
(Y/n) couldn’t find any words, both because her nose stung like hell and she was still stuck on what Daniela and Bela were taunting Cassandra about, so she just managed a small shrug.
Cassandra hardly seemed to mind her lack of verbal response. She was too busy grinding her teeth as her sisters continued to whisper and laugh in the bedroom. Cassandra quickly wiped and stuffed (Y/n)’s nose, nearly hissing at her to remain still before going back to deal with her unruly siblings, licking the stray blood from her fingers as she went.
(Y/n) tried to give her some privacy, she really did, but it was hard not to listen in when they were speaking so loudly, and about herself no less.
“You two get out of my room, now!” Cassandra commanded.
“Why? It’s not like anything unseemly is going to be happening in here. Right, Daniela?” Bela giggled while Daniela downright cackled with glee.
“Get. Out. Now!” Cassandra bellowed.
“Oh no Cassie,” Daniela waggled a finger, snatching it back before Cassandra could bite it, “you spend weeks pretending to have gone all the way with dear (Y/n) over there like some casanova and now we find out she doesn’t even know you like her?”
“What’s the matter Cassandra? It isn’t like you to be so chaste.” Bela said with a smirk.
“She must really like this one to be taking her time like this.” Daniela hypothesized with a bloodstained grin.
“Leave you idiots!” Cassandra nearly screamed, “She can probably hear everything you’re spewing! I’ll throw you out in the cold, don’t think I won’t!”
“Geez Cass, no need to be so hostile,” Bela shivered at the thought.
“Yeah, you take your well deserved teasings or we’ll tell mother you are not playing fair.” Daniela added with a pout.
Cassandra pinched the bridge of her nose shutting her eyes tightly before releasing her nose with a growl and snapping her gaze back to her sisters.
“What do you want?” She grumbled.
“Oo! I want the best bits of your next hunt!” Daniela immediately proclaimed.
“I want to watch you flounder about whilst you try to explain your affections to the maiden.” Bela had said after a moment of consideration.
“Oh! That sounds fun. I retract my previous statement. I want what Bela’s having.” Daniela wiggled.
“I hate you both.” Cassandra huffed before stalking back to the bathroom, her giggling sister’s on her heels. (Y/n) quickly shot her gaze down at her swinging feet, suddenly more interested in the patterns of the floor below.
It didn’t take long for Cassandra to grab (Y/n)’s jaw and pull her face upward to meet her golden eyes.
“Listen prey,” Cassandra swallowed and blinked, her eyes darting all around (Y/n)’s face, “I...”
“Come on, Cassandra. It’s not that difficult.” Bela cooed, egging her sister on.
“I could tell her for you. That would be fun.” Daniela suggested, shrinking back just a bit at the look Cassandra shot her over her shoulder.
“Prey, (Y/n), I... Why is this so hard!” She stomped her foot and her nails bit into (Y/n)’s skin a bit too harshly, “I like you a lot and that’s why I’ve been helping you. I want you to like me too. Do you? Be honest.” She asked with a bit of hostility.
Did (Y/n) like Cassandra? Either way, it seemed like a death sentence to say no. Cassandra seemed to notice (Y/n)’s trepidation and quickly added,
“You don’t have to be scared. I won’t hurt you, just tell me the truth. If the answer is not to my liking then I guess I’ll simply have to try harder.” She said as if the words physically hurt her to say.
(Y/n) thought back on all of her interactions with Cassandra in a new light. Actually being caught as she fell, the schoolyard boy with a crush behavior (which honestly didn’t give the her any points but did make sense for how the murderous woman might try to show affection), most promising was how she brought (Y/n) back to health and continued to send money to her struggling family despite not working. Then of course she had saved her from Anca’s knife, wasting no time in cutting her down and checking (Y/n) over with care.
(Y/n) gave Cassandra a small smile that steadily grew a bit wider as golden eyes traced the movement and a hopeful sounding buzz began warbling in the back of her throat. Even the sisters standing behind her buzzed in unison, seemingly feeling their sister’s hope and growing excitement.
“Lady Cassandra, I like you too—Eep!”
Cassandra’s face dove into (Y/n)’s neck as her strong arms wrapped around (Y/n) to hold her still as she nuzzled and buzzed to her heart’s content. Bela and Daniela dissolved into their swarms and were haphazardly flying around them in celebration.
Cassandra gave (Y/n)’s neck a playful nip, much softer than a blowfly, before standing back to her full height and throwing (Y/n) over her shoulder.
“Lady Cassandra?” (Y/n) tried, wiggling a bit in the sudden new hold.
“Shhh, I’ve been waiting for this moment for weeks.” Cassandra said, craning her neck to look up at her sisters still buzzing above them, “Buzz off.” She told them. The clouds of flies let out a bout of disembodied laughter before slipping back under the door, feeling that they had given their sister enough grief for one night.
Once Cassandra was sure they were gone, she tossed (Y/n) on to the bed and climbed in as well, hovering over the stuttering maiden.
“Wuh- wait, Cassandra, I know we established we like each other but—“ the former maid flustered as Cassandra rested her full weight over (Y/n)’s body and moaned pleasantly in her ear.
“Mm, you’re so warm. I could just lay here forever.” She sighed, snaking her hands underneath (Y/n)’s back.
“Thank... you?” (Y/n) awkwardly replied. For as tall and strong as Cassandra was, she was surprisingly light. (Y/n) figured the fact that she was made up of flies had something to do with that.
Cassandra hummed some more, nuzzling her nose in the crook of (Y/n)’s neck and breathing so deeply that (Y/n) couldn’t help but giggle. There was a bit of concern bleeding in the back of her mind, but the smiling lips on her collarbone were quick to distract her.
“I quite like it when you make that sound, it’s sweet. But right now I’m quite tired, and I would like for you to be quiet now. I’m listening to your blood move.”
Well, that was a slightly terrifying admission. (Y/n) must’ve been going mad because she reacted no differently than if she had said she was listening to her heartbeat.
“Goodnight then.” (Y/n) murmured, slowly patting Cassandra’s hair, earning a low continuous buzzing that persisted until they had fallen asleep together.
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nightwishesworld · 3 years
Text
Jealousy
It was a quiet day at the Dimitrescu Castle. The girls were unusually calm going about their business in and out of the basement, keeping their messes down there for the most part. None of the staff was being chased down the corridors in fear of their life and even better; there were no crashing sounds of decorative pieces being broken. Only silence. You and Alcina settled in the library for the afternoon. It started off nice with the two of you lost in your own novels, but it wasn’t long until the vampire grew bored and wanted cuddles. You were more than happy to oblige. It was one of those days that you’d call perfect. Alcina lounged on the couch with her head resting on your lap. Her eyes are closed and all she can focus on is your rhythmic breathing and the feeling of your fingers gently massaging her scalp. A perfect lazy afternoon. You almost thought she had fallen asleep until suddenly her eyes were open, glowing their beautiful gold. Alcina raised her head and sat upright, eyes glued her eyed to the main doors.
"Someone coming, Darling?" You ask in a low voice, reaching blindly behind you for the weapon concealed under the cushions.
She nods. "Sounds like a woman running out of breath. Perhaps a maiden managed to escape the basement." She leaned toward you like she was ready to shield you from whoever was making their way down the corridor. You could hear the footsteps now, they were coming closer and closer to you. Alcina was right, it was definitely a woman, the footsteps were much too delicate to be a man. Said vampiress was practically on top of you now, her arm supporting her weight on the opposite side of you, just in case you needed to be protected.
Whoever it is was just outside the door. You both braced yourselves as the door now twisted. Just as Alcina was about to pounce on the intruder, you both recognized her as one of the maids. False alarm. It was only Mihaela, a very dear friend of yours from the below village. You grew up together and considered yourselves sisters. When her father passed away Alcina welcomed the girl into the castle with open arms. The girls had been introduced to Mihaela on more than one occasion and knew not to harm her. You'd like to think they consider her more or less a friend.
"What are you doing here, dear," Alcina immediately relaxes back onto the couch. "It's your day off, is it not?"
The girl nodded, physically unable to get any words out.
"Good Lord, Mihaela, did you run all the way up the mountain?"
She nodded again. Alcina stood to fetch her a tall glass of water. Mihaela eagerly accepted. "Y/n!" she rasped. "You'll never guess who's in the village right now asking about you."
You share a sideways glance with Alcina, waiting for the girl to continue. Who could possibly be asking about me?
"E/n, your ex!"
If you were drinking something you would have choked. That was a name you hadn't thought about in years. To say you were not expecting that would be the understatement of the century. You don't know what to say. What can you say? What could they possibly want with you after all these years? Money? A place to stay? Work?
Sweet spawn of Satan Aclina would kill them.
She's still staring at Mihaela with an expressionless look on her face.
"What?" You hope you simply heard her wrong.
Mihaela nods vigorously. "I know! I couldn't believe it either. There I was, helping my little brother open up shop for the day and I see them walk by. At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but the next thing I know they're inside the shop hugging me! I could barely get a word out I was so floored."
"I thought they left to tour Romania looking for their 'dream job?'"
"Didn't work out. I guess no one would keep her employment for long. They said they were too good for the jobs anyway, can you believe that?"
"Honestly? Yes. You remember how outlandish they were, guess they haven't changed too much."
Mihaela giggled. "It sure felt that way."
"So wait, how did my name get brought up?"
"They asked if you were still around- seemed pretty keen on seeing you again."
Alcina rolled her eyes. "Marvelous."
You take her gloved hand in yours and give it a reassuring squeeze. She eases up a little bit as you rub circles on top of her hand. "You said no, right?"
"Of course I did!"
"Then why do you look so nervous, Mihaela?" Alcina asked.
The girl stood like a statue, only moving to twiddle her thumbs. Silence fills the room as the matriarch waits patiently for the girl to speak. Her eyebrow arches as if she says "I'm waiting..."
Finally, Mihaela speaks. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in.</p>
"As I was leaving I heard them asking others of your whereabouts. It's only a matter of time before they find out the truth."</p>
"Well that's just fantastic then, isn't it? Now we can't even go down to our own village without risking an encounter."</p>
Mihaela gave a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Lady Dimitrescu. They're not staying in our village, just passing through. I believe they said the village just east of us, on the other side of the forest."
Alcina hummed. "Best to stay away then, don't you agree, Love?"
You couldn't nod your head quick enough. "Of course. What do they want with me though? I haven't even thought about them in years."
Mihaela shrugged. "I guess they just wanna talk? Reconnect with all our old friends? I didn't ask; just said you weren't around anymore."
"Couldn't you have just told them I died or something? That would have solved everything! They wouldn't be going around using about me AND if they ask to visit my grave you just bring them to the coolest tree in the forest and say I'm buried under it. My body intertwined with its roots. You could've had so much fun with the dramatics!"
"Do you think they'd be stupid enough to come looking her y/n up here?" Alcina asks in an almost hopeful tone.
Mihaela rolls her eyes. "Well, I only came to warn you. You know how...persistent they can be. Now that I'm here, may I stay and pick up some work?"
"Of course you may, my dear. If it's the trek back down you want to avoid I can always call a carriage for you."
"That's very generous of you, my Lady, but really, I don't mind. I like to keep busy."
Alcina nodded, accepting the answer. "Very well, dear. My study could use another dusting once you've regained yourself."
As the doors close behind Mihaela, the matriarch relaxes and lies back down with her head on your lap."Well, that was interesting."
You immediately start running your fingers through her hair. "No kidding, What the hell do they want from me? I thought we agreed we'd never have to look at each other ever again, now they wanna talk?"
"I wouldn't know. You've never told me about this person."
"I was sparing you, trust me." Alcina still looked up at you, her eyes flurrying with emotion. "There isn't much to tell, Al. We were together a few years and couldn't make it work so we started hurting each other, sometimes just out of spite. Really, Al, it's nothing I ever felt compelled to bring up; especially to you." You can't hold back a giggle. "You know how jealous you can be."
"I do not get jealous."
"Al, not two weeks ago you almost slaughtered the village butcher cause you didn't like the way he looked at me."
She rolled her eyes. "That swine was looking you up and down like you were nothing more than a piece of meat."
A comfortable silence fills the library. You're both lost in your own worlds together. Alcina stares up blankly at you as you continue to read."It was a serious relationship then? If it lasted a few years then it must have been."
You try to hide behind your novel and Alcina tosses it to the ground. You can't look her in the eyes without blushing and feeling really uncomfortable. "It was-umm...we were...briefly engaged."
"What?!" Alcina bolts up from her spot. "You were engaged?!"
You nod curtly. "Briefly engaged, yes."
Alcina just stares at you, completely flabbergasted. "When were you planning on telling me that?"
You pulled a confused face. "Um never? Why would I ever bring that up? Under what pretense is that an ok thing to bring up?"
"I..." She sighs, "I don't know."
"I'm sorry, Alcina. I didn't think it was a big deal."
"I suppose it's not. You're here now and that's all that matters."
You crawl on her lap and give her a sweet kiss. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Later That Night
You were out on the balcony gazing up at the array of constellations, waiting for Alcina to join you when there was a knock at the bedroom doors. Strange, no one is around at this hour. From your vantage point, it sounded like one of the servants talking to Alcina. He handed her something through the crack of the open door before having the door slammed in his face. Alcina joined you out on the balcony and handed you a rather beaten-up-looking envelope. "This was left for you by the main gates. Can't imagine who it's from?"
"Fuck, already?"
Alcina hummed as she sipped her wine. "A letter from your ex-fiancee."
"Wanna read it together?"
Alcina shakes her head but it looks forced. "It's none of my business."
"I don't care Alcina, really. This is clearly bothering you and I want to know what's going on between them and me."
"Well, if you're sure then." She hands you a letter opener and curls up next to you. The action briefly reminds you of a puppy looking for attention.
You waste no time opening the envelope and pull out a short, sloppily written letter.
I hope this letter finds you well. Please, before you crumple this up and throw it away please just hear me out. I want to apologize for how I treated you when we were together. Obviously, we were both dealing with a lot back then because we were young and stupid, but I'd like to think I've changed a lot since then. Don't get me wrong, I still have my moments, I'm only human, But I really have changed. If you still hate me and never want to talk to me again I understand. I wanted to say I'm sorry and see if we could make an effort to at least stay friends. I'm not the wreckless teenager you used to know and I've always thought about reaching out to you.
These past years of backpacking have taught me a lot and helped me grow up. I had to learn how to fix my own problems and not lean on someone else's support. I had to learn how to live off the land and support myself through the good and bad times. I realize now that I wasn't able to take care of you because I was unable to properly take care of myself. I see that now. You were never far from my mind; I thought about you every day I was gone.
The blacksmith told me you're working at Dimitrescu Castle as a handmaiden? Never thought you of all people would ever accept that kind of job, but hey, I guess I'm not the only one that changed. I hear it's pretty tough up there...then again you're the toughest person I've ever met. If anyone can handle it it's you. How are they treating you up there?  What's it like living in such a massive castle? You know me, I would probably lose my way and get lost haha.
I really hope you decide to write back, but no pressure. I understand everything we went through was...a lot to deal with and you want your space. Just in case you want to respond, I'll leave my address enclosed. A nice elderly couple is letting me stay with them in exchange for work. How sweet is that? It's mostly just labor chores around the house that need to be done so it's no big deal.
Best regards,
E/N
You share a look with Alcina who only scowls at the piece of paper. "I don't like the sound of this."
You shake your head, genuinely lost for words."I don't even know what to say, honestly."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know."
Alcina sighs and sits you on her lap, straddling her thick thighs. "I know you're going to say forget about them because of me," she silences you with a single finger to your lips. "But it's ok. I know you love me and only me. You're allowed to have friends outside the castle, my love, and I have no right to deny you. Even if this particular friend was your ex-fiancee; I trust you completely."
Your heart was melting in your chest. Even though it looks like it took all her strength to say those words you know she means it. 'Thank you, Alcina. I know you don't like this, but I would at least like to hear what they have to say. Our relationship wasn't a happy one at the end and, well, I don't know, I guess I just want some closure. But I promise every letter I get we will read together."
"Oh you don't have to do that, love, I trust you."
"I know and I appreciate that very much. But I want you to know exactly what's being said between the two of us, even if it's just to ease your mind about them."
Alcina smiles down at you and strokes your lips. "What have I done to deserve you?"
"Whatever it was, you definitely deserve me."
Three months and several letter exchanges later
“Why do we entertain this, again?”
You glanced up after opening the latest letter received. “Because, my love, all they’re looking for is a friend. It’s been a long time since they left the village and a lot has changed, the people included. Trust me, as soon as they make more friends down there they will get bored of me.”
Alcina only groaned in response as she laid herself down on the bed, rather dramatically, so her head was in your lap. “Doesn’t sound that way to me. Last week they said, and I quote, it means the world to me that we’re talking again. I can’t believe after all this time and everything we’ve been through you’re still willing to talk to me.” She sighed. “I’m still surprised myself.”
You lean down and kiss her lips chastely. She pulls you back onto her and bites your lower lip, causing you to gasp. She takes this opportunity to deepened the kiss, caressing your tongue with her own.
You only pull away when the need for oxygen is desperate. “You’re needy when you’re jealous.”
She scrunched her face in disgust. “I told you I am not jealous. There’s nothing to be jealous of. They are nothing.”
“It’s ok babe, I think it’s cute.” You kiss her sweetly. “Shows me how much you love me.”
A light blush powdered Alcina's cheeks. “Well, I do love you.”
“I love you too.”
She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling of your fingers running through her hair. “So, what are they saying this time?”
“Nothing interesting. They’re still looking for work, I think they might still be holding out on us hiring them. Even though I made it very clear there’s no place for them here.”
“Absolutely not,” Alcina growled. “It’s bad enough I have to listen to you read these damned letters why would I want to hire them? Short-staffed or not that...person is not allowed in my home.”
“I know Darling, I made it very clear. You know that.”
“I know you did. You were sweet enough to let me read it.”
You chuckle as you continue reading. “I let you read all the letters, Alcina. You’re my partner and I love you. You have a right to know what’s going on.”
She moved to sit up and kissed the top of your head. “I appreciate that.”
She made her way over to the vanity and starts taking off her makeup. You paid her little attention as you continued glazing over the letter. This has become your weekly routine; open the letter, read it first by yourself, and then give it to Alcina to read over so she can make fun of the person for the rest of the night. You think it’s her way of letting all her jealous energy out. She knows you and this particular ex were extremely close. It was the deepest relationship you had been in previous to Alcina. But it was also the most toxic relationship you had ever been in.
Every week you got the letter you would assure her there was no reason to get jealous or upset as she does. Not that you minded the extra cuddles and kisses that came along with jealous-clingy Alcina. It was cute. The way she gets close and cuddly with you like an attention-starved kitten.
You were about halfway through the letter when you realized the handwriting changed ever so slightly. It appeared sloppier than the previous paragraphs, almost as if the writer’s hand was shaking as they wrote. Then as you continued down the page the reason became apparent.
“....what are the odds us giving our relationship a second chance? I’ve changed a lot over the years and now that I’m back...maybe things would be different? I never lost feelings for you. This has been on my mind for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to bring it up until today.”
Oh god....
You turn back to Alcina who thankfully hasn’t noticed your sudden nervous energy. You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves, before continuing.
“My feelings never really went away, only transferred from person to person cause I wanted them to be you. But they weren’t and never can be. You have always been so special to me- you should know that by now. It’s nice having you here again. You were a major part of my life growing up. I wish I could change not having you around these past years cause you were my everything.”
You raise a hand to cover your mouth and bit down on one of your fingers.
As you look up to check on her your heart sinks as you’re met with her eyes burning into you through the reflection of the mirror. She knows something’s wrong. Of course, she knows- she always knows! It’s like she can smell your nervousness from across the room. She doesn’t break eye contact even when removing her lipstick.
You try your hardest to pretend she isn’t staring and continue on reading.
“If there’s a way to make your feelings for me come back you better believe I’ll find it. But I know I can’t force you to feel something you don’t anymore. It’s just always been so easy to connect with you. That’s why I want to try and rekindle our flame. You’re such a loving, generous, kind-hearted person to be around. I always admired you for that. To this day I’ve never been able to connect with someone as deeply as I did you.”
“For fuck sake...” you thought. “It can’t get any worse than this right? It can’t possibly get any worse.”
You don’t have to look up to know that Alcina’s stare has intensified. Her eyes are practically burning holes in the back of your head. You know the game she’s playing too...she’s gonna wait until she knows you’re finished reading and come over to read it for herself and let the rages of hell consume her. After all, you’ve seen how out of control her temper can become, this year alone she’s gone through three replicas of her vanity. And that was only because Mother Miranda called.
“....I’m glad to hear you’re in good health. Your health has always been something I worry tirelessly about, even when we weren’t on good terms.”
You sigh in relief. “Ok, that’s not so bad. I guess I can forgive that one. My health has always been up and down, even Alcina worries like a dog over me some days.”
“When I leave again maybe you can come with me? We always did talk about living in the country. We can have our own land for whatever animals you want and a barn to match.”
You actually yelp out of surprise. “Holy shit that’s worse...that’s so much worse. Alcina is going to be livid when she sees this.”
Your attempt to steady your breathing fails miserably. The most you can hope for now is to not make eye contact- then she sees how much of a nervous wreck you are. “Don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look up, don’t look- FUCK!”
In an instant, Alcina’s up and making her way to stand behind you, won’t glass in hand. She’s already glaring down at the piece of paper like it personally cussed her out. “What did that lowlife say this time?”
“Alcina, I don’t think you should-“ it’s too late. She’s already snatched it out of your hands.
You start inching away as you watch her facial expressions morph from displeased to disgust, to seething as her eyes scan the bottom of the page. Her breathing is heavy, her nostrils are flaring, and her eyes glowing a bright gold as she recites the final paragraph out loud.
“I’m always going to be here for you from now on. I made the mistake of missing all those years with you. I ain’t missing no more.
Goodnight, MY LOVE?!”
You bring a hand up to hook around her arm. “Calm down, Alci.”
She doesn’t respond. Everything is quiet for what felt like hours when in reality it was only about a minute. You watched her eyes scan over the page over and over again until they fall back on you.
You have never really been scared of the vampiress, she never gave you a reason to be. But those eyes hold no mercy. You want to run away and cower somewhere she’ll never find you, the abandoned passages maybe, but fear has you frozen in place.
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, it’s one of those psychopathic smiles someone sees right before they die. She notices your cautiousness and is quick to retract her claws and thread her fingers through your hair. “If you’ll excuse me, darling. There’s some business I must attend to in the basement.”
“Alci-“
“I’ll be back later tonight, porumbel mic. Don’t wait up.”
Hours passed before you abandoned the idea of sleeping and decided to stroll around the castle. It was usually only done with Alcina when one of you had trouble falling asleep, but since she was still nowhere to be found you figured it couldn't hurt to try by yourself. Bloodcurdling screams from the basement were particularly loud tonight. The girls must have found themselves new toys to play with. No matter which part of the castle you were in you could hear the muffled cries of the damned. You wrote it off as Daniela and Cassandra being particularly intense. Eventually, you ran into Bela while in the west wing. She flashed you a broad smile.
"A little late for you, isn't it y/n?"
"Couldn't sleep. Your sisters are having a lot of fun tonight, huh?"
The eldest vampire sibling shot you a confused look. "What are you talking about?"
"All the screaming in the basement, that's them, right?"
She started laughing. "Oh no, y/n, that's all Mother's doing. She's pretty pissed about something; I haven't seen her this mad in decades! And from the looks of it, I bet you know why."
You rubbed the back of your neck and look around the corridor, really anywhere other than Bela's eyes. "Well..."
"Ooh! What is it? What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything, not really. It's just, someone I used to be in a relationship with has been sending me letters and Alci thought it would be alright if I responded. Just to make sure they knew I was happy and safe and all that kind of stuff. Then after I'm done reading what they sent me I give the letter to your mother to let her read. So she knows there's nothing going on between the two of us, ya know?"
Bela nods, stars shining bright in her eyes. "OOh what did the letter say?"
"They um, confessed they still had feelings for me. And they were thinking about running away with me to the countryside."
Bela looked like she was going to explode from all this excitement. You knew she was only pretending to not know about all the other letters. Bela was the gossip seeker of the family. Nothing made the girl happier than to have something to blackmail you with, or anyone really. There was no escaping her wrath, not even Alcina could.
"Mother must have been seething!"
"Yeah," you felt rather guilty about it. "I guess she's taking her anger out on the basement dwellers."
Bela giggled. "Better them than us, right?"
"No question about it."
It's after three in the morning when Alcina finally crawls into bed next to you. She's already stripped herself naked and there's a thin layer of sweat covering her body. She wraps herself around your back and you try to be as still as possible, giving the illusion you're fast asleep. You should have known better. This is Alcina Dimitrescu we're talking about here. The woman can probably smell your anxiety from the other side of the castle.
"I told you not to wait up."
You sigh and roll over on your back. "I slept a few hours, then woke up and couldn't fall back. Even walking around the castle didn't help."
The vampire shifted her body so she was almost laying on top of you; her arm is draped over your middle, a leg nudging between yours, and she's nestling her face in the crook of your neck.
"Do you feel any better?"
Even in the low light of the moon, you can see her looking at you. "A little bit."
An uncomfortable silence filled the bedroom. Neither of you knew what to say if there was anything to be said. You decide to break the silence.
"I'm sorry, Alcina. You were right from the beginning. I shouldn't have engaged with them," your eyes widen at your own words. "Sorry, not the word I should have used."
She chuckles into your neck before giving your pulse point a kiss. "It's not your fault, porumbel mic. My anger is not directed at you."
"Still, I should have known this would happen. I'm not responding, of course."
She starts kissing and licking down your neck. "Good. Alcina Dimitrescu does not share her porumbel mic with anyone."
Soft quiet moans began escaping your mouth, which encouraged Alcina even more. You shared a brief moment of unspoken words before joining your mouths to one another. You move to straddle her and press your body into her with everything you've got. For the rest of the night, you proceed to remind Alcina just how much you love her.
A week later in the village
It was a quaint little village, full of blossoming flowers in the spring and cheerful wildlife wandering around the outskirts. The people of the village fended for each other all year round. It was a very tight-knit place to live. Chatter fills the air along with the tantalizing aromas from various shops as the people go about their daily routines. You and Bela had accompanied Alcina while running some errands. Nothing important, really, just picking up various perfumes and lotions the matriarch was running low on. Bela made herself comfortable sitting by the fountain in the village square, growing rather impatient and bored.
You were about to suggest going in the shop with Alcina to help move things along quicker until you heard it. That single sound made your heart stop beating and drop to the pit of your stomach.
"Y/n!" They called from a distance. You groaned when you saw their silhouette approaching, and nearly pulled your own hair out when you saw how happy they were to see you. Bela, however, looked very pleased with the change of atmosphere. "OOH y/n is that them? The one from the letters that wants to run away with you?"
You nod.
As they get closer Bela pretends to gag. "Ew, you were seriously going to marry that?"
You elbow her in the side, hoping they didn't hear that. "I was young ok. Please just go get your mother and tell her to hurry up."
The girl flashed you an evil smile. "With pleasure."
She got away just in time. They greeted you not with a handshake, or a playful punch to the shoulder, but with a bone-crushing hug that lasted a little too long to be comfortable. "How's it going y/n? Gosh, I never thought I would be lucky enough to run into you here!" They pulled away and looked you over a few times. You had the inclination to cover yourself even though you were completely clothed. "You look incredible."
"Thanks, it's uh, nice to see you too."
"So what are you doing here little miss handmaiden? Running some errands for your Lady or is it your day off or something? Do handmaidens even do stuff like that? I don't know. Anyways, if you aren't doing anything right now, you wanna grab something to eat?"
Fuck no
Before you could think of an excuse Bela was at your side again, smiling even more wickedly than before. "Mother is making her final purchase and then we're returning home. We best meet her at the carriage." Her eyes fixate on the person standing opposite of her like a wolf to its prey. "You must be e/n. I've read so much about you!"
You elbow her in the stomach. "Bela!"
Meanwhile, e/n had never looked so embarrassed. "Oh, so you let them read all our-"
The gods were smiling upon you today. Being saved from awkward conversations left and right.
"Come along, my darlings. Time to go home," Alcina calls behind you. Your heart starts racing in your chest, whether it was from anxiety or anticipation you had no idea. As soon as Alcina locked eyes with your ex her entire face shifted. She went from calm and happy Mother Alcina to cold-hearted Lady Dimitrescu almost instantaneously. Your ex was in awe of the tall woman before them. They heard rumors about the Lady of course but always believed them to be just that; rumors and wives' tales.
Bela ran to her mother's side. "Mother, look, it's e/n from the letters."
You pinched the bridge of your nose and could swear you feel a migraine coming on.
Alcina looked them over and nodded. Her expression was neutral, but you knew her eyes held no mercy. "So it seems."
Your ex bowed in respect to Lady Dimitrescu ad greeted her politely. It wasn't bad actually, too bad they're already on Alcina's blacklist. "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Dimitrescu."
She smiles, "I know it is, dear."
You lost composure for a split second and let out a snort. "Apologies, my lady, are you ready to return to the carriage?"
Alcina only waved you off. "Oh come now, my love, there's no need to be so formal. They're a friend, after all, are they not?"
Yup, definitely feel a migraine coming on. Though you had to admit, the look on their face was absolutely priceless. They rubbed the back of their neck awkwardly. "I'll just um...I'll see ya around, y/n."
Alcina wore the proudest smile you had ever seen as they walked off.
"You're ridiculous sometimes, you know that?"
The vampires only laughed in response. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Alcina opened the carriage door for you and Bela to enter first, ever the gentleman, and took a moment to survey the village around her. Only when her eyes met your ex's did she enter the carriage herself, pulling her girls close.
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imtooscaredforthis · 3 years
Text
Tethered
Legion’s Frank x Reader
Part I- Chapter One: Bully
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Mentions of: Harassment, Bullying, Scratches, Slight physical violence, Frank Being The Little Shit He is, etc.
A/N: I’m putting author’s notes in my fanfics now bcs I can hehe. And here it is, the moment you’ve been waiting for! I love mc so much in this chapter she’s such a sweetheart ugh
Tags: @prettycutebunny
“Hi, um, can I ask you a question?” You said as you walked up to one of the caretakers, Ms.Annaliese.
It was your third day in your new group home, and you were still getting used to how things were around here. Things were a lot different from your last one, to say the least.
To start, the place was a bit bigger than the last home you were at, with three floors, four bathrooms, eight bedrooms, a rather roomy dinette, and a small playground and blacktop outside. And the atmosphere was definitely much different than your last home.
“Do you know where the washing machine is?” While the older woman gave her answer, you let your attention fall to the playground outside, listening to the excited chatter of children, watching as they played around with a smile.
But then, your eyes fell to the blacktop, and you spotted a group of boys your age, crowding around a younger one, pushing and harassing him. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but judging by their tone, you doubted it could be anything good.
You had to do something, so you got the caretaker’s attention, pointing outside to where the boys were. “Uh, ma’am? Those boys are fighting.”
Well not fighting, because the smaller one wasn’t fighting back, but they were still doing something bad.
“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? The washing machine is down the hall and two the left.” She repeated, growing irritated and completely ignoring what you just said.
“But- They’re hurting him-”
“That’s not my problem. Go do the laundry like I told you to.” She said apathetically, and you couldn’t help but feel angry. Taking a small breath, you turned on your heel, walking off.
Picking up the laundry basket you once had in your hands, you made your way towards the washing machine but paused at the door. It was cracked open, and you couldn’t help the temptation that came over you.
Setting down the basket, you crept over to the door, opening it and watching the boys, hearing their conversation loud and clear. “Look at this freak, he can’t even run away right!”
“Who would he even run to? No one even cares about him enough to stop us. How pathetic.” The boy in the middle, who was leading this whole thing said.
And that made something come over you. Fury. Anger. As they continued to beat up the little boy, your body moved for you, and you sprinted over there, pushing the boys off of him.
“Leave him alone!” You snapped at them, looking over your shoulder at the younger male. He gazed back up at you, his eyes tearing up and his body trembling, seeming shocked by your actions.
“Aww look at that. What are you, his hero? That’s funny, he needs a girl to come and save him.” The brunette leader remarked, the others laughing at his statement. He had a smug look on his face, one that you glared at. You didn’t like this guy. Whoever he was, he was a jerk.
“What’s wrong with you guys? Do you seriously hate yourselves that much that you have to pick on someone smaller to feel better? You’re all pathetic. Go do something productive with your life and grow up.”
That made the boys stop and go quiet, and you turned away, helping the smaller child up to his feet, walking him back inside. “Come on, let’s get you some ice and bandaids for your scrapes.”
--
“Are you feeling better?” You asked, putting the last bandaid on the boy’s knee while he sat on the toilet. You both were in the bathroom, the one that had the medical kit and the medicine some of the kids needed.
While you bandaged him up, you had learned a few things about him. His name was Alex, and he was nine years old, four years younger than you.
He was so young, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he lost his parents. It always made you sad when you saw such young kids around here, the youngest being four, without parents. Without a family.
“Yeah, thank you.” Alex was shy and quiet, so you had to make conversation by asking him questions like this, most being simple things.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” He murmured, and you tilted your head with a confused smile. “What? What do you mean?”
“You shouldn’t have stood up for me. No one stands up against Frank. If they do, then they’re his next victim, and he bullies them too.” Alex told you.
You frowned softly, putting the bandaids back in their cabinet, and the ice back in the refrigerator. “Frank, that’s the brown-haired guy in charge? The one who has those guys following him around like lost puppies?”
He nodded, his eyes all round with fear and honesty. “And why does he bully you?”
“One of his friends has language arts with me, and the teacher made me read to the class, but I’m not good at it, so I kept on messing up, and he made fun of me for it and said I couldn’t read. It’s not that I can’t, it’s just…the words get all jumbled in my head and stuff, and I flip around the letters.”
“Well, I’m not scared of Frank. And you shouldn’t be either.” You patted his head and messed with his dirty blonde locks a bit.
“Why not? He beats me up and says all these mean things about me.” He pouted.
“Well don’t listen to what he says, and if he hurts you, come get me okay? Cause I’ll kick his butt.” You grin at Alex, making him giggle.
It was nice seeing the little boy smile. Seeing him happy. One of your favorite things was making people happy. Especially when they’ve had such sad, troublesome lives, like him.
“Snack time!” You heard one of the caretakers call, Alex instantly perking up. He must’ve been hungry.
He got to his feet, moving over to the door and looking back at you over his shoulder. “You coming?”
“Shoot. I gotta go do the laundry. I completely forgot. Ms.Annaliese is gonna be pissed. Can you do me a favor and cover for me if she asks where I am? Thanks. And if Frank bothers you, don’t be afraid to come get me!” You said before rushing out of the room.
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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years
Text
O̶l̶d̶ M̶a̶n̶ M̶o̶v̶e̶s̶
__________________________ Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve shows you a thing or two about being an old man. 
Warnings: *AGE GAP*, smut 18+ minors dni, very dark/inappropriate joke (only mentioned once but beware)
Author’s Notes: I know this isn’t the most original but hEr yA gO lol (ps this a long one but boy is it a good read #prettyproud ;) lmao) __________________________
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“Hey Nat, do you know anything about World War II?” you peeked your head in her room.
“Nope, ask Steve.”
“Hey Tony, do you know anything about World War II?” you walked into the lab.
“Nope, ask Steve.”
“Hey Sam, where’s Bucky?” you walked in the kitchen.
“Mission.”
“Well, do you know anything about  World War II?”
“Nope, ask Steve,” you grunted and rolled your eyes.
“Hey Wanda, do you know anything about World War II?”
“Nope, have you asked Steve?” 
“Ugh! Everyone keeps saying that,” you flopped down on her bed.  
“And why aren't you asking him?” 
You looked at her raising an eyebrow. She was the only, well you think Nat knows but Wanda is the only person you told about your little crush on the super soldier. Upon seeing your face, Wanda chuckled humorously. One time she caught you during a meeting thinking about Steve; every part of Steve. To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement. 
“What about Bucky?”
“He’s on a mission. Hey, what are you watching?”
“Malcolm in the Middle.”
“Nice.”
You laughed at the show for a bit before grunting remembering that you had to finish the history report for your college professor who’s as old as sliced bread. Before you walked out Vision phased through the door. 
“Ooh! Vis, tell me everything about World War II!”
“No, Vis! Don’t tell her a single thing! You have to ask Steve,” she scolded. 
“No!”
“Yes!”
“Wanda,” you whined.
“I’m pretty sure he’s in his room,” she smirked.
“Please don’t make me do it,” you begged hyperbolically. 
“Then fail your report,” she smirked evilly.
“Dammit, Wanda,” you left her room hearing her snicker. 
You stomped to your room and collapsed on your bed. You sat at your computer for twenty minutes until a knock disturbed your dreadful staring. 
“Steve!” you shouted opening the door.
“Hey, Sam told me you needed help with a history report?”
“Sam told you?”
“Yeah; and Tony, and Nat, and Wanda,” Steve phoned chimed suddenly.
“Oh, uh, Buck just texted me saying Sam told him that you need help with uh, a history report,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, World War II,” you gritted.
“Well,” he stood awkwardly at your door still.
“Come in,” you moved over to let him in.
Steve walked in and sat on the edge of your bed. You scurried over and threw yourself on the bed gathering all your papers and books and your laptop. You sat criss crossed on the bed before looking up at him ready for learning, I guess.
“Ok so what exactly do you need to know?” Steve smiled.
“Oh well, uh, maybe we start with life before soldiers got drafted?” you suggested.
Steve smiled remembering tons of stories and memories of him and Bucky being teenagers in New York. You stopped caring about your report altogether and just kicked back to listen to all about Steve. The way he lit up whenever remembered something he forgot to tell you made your heart burst. 
At one point he started laughing so hard, as were you, when he slapped his hand directly on your thigh and squeezed hard from pure humor. Needless to say, you instantly stopped laughing and zeroed in on his large hand and the way it gripped your thigh. 
“Awe man, that such was a good day,” he breathed out once he cooled down.
“Yeah, it’s kinda weird,” you said, coming back to reality.
“Why’s that weird?”
“I don’t know? You’re the captain, you don’t have fun. You’re an old man,” you giggled.
“Old man? Kid, you’re hurting me,” he clutched his chest dramatically.
“Hey, I already told you to stop calling me kid. I’m twenty years old,” you crossed your arms. 
“Hey come on, I’m just joshing ya,” he smirked.
“Who the fuck says ‘joshing ya’?” you laughed.
“What, the kids don’t say that nowadays?” he laughed.
“No!” you were cracking up rolling on the bed.
“You’re supposed to be doing your history report,” he defended.
“You’re such an old man, oh god.”
“And you’re such a child,” he pinned you down on the bed.
“Ooh, someone busting out the old man moves. Get off grandpa,” you smirked.
“Make me, kid,” he emphasized ‘kid’.
You two glared at each amusingly, both trying you very best to not smile. Your shirt had ridden up your stomach and Steve could somewhat see the exposed skin. He didn't think you were a kid per say, he thought you were a very beautiful young woman; too young. He didn’t think it would be appropriate to pursue any sort of relationship with you; it’s not like you were very incognito when it came to checking him out. He knew that you liked him. 
Explains all the teasing you do too. 
The close proximity between you two make you both bothersome; Steve's muscle clenching and fighting every urge in his body to do something he might regret, or worse, something you’ll regret. Your stomach flipped and your mind wandered to what it would be like if you were in this position under different circumstances. 
In an attempt to relieve yourself without Steve knowing you clenched your thighs softly before moving your knee up. Upon moving your knee, your eyes widened and Steve instantly got off you covering his modesty with your sheet. Your face slowly turned into a mischievous smirk before raising your eyebrow at Steve, who profusely blushed under your taunting gaze. 
“Do kids turn you on?” you joked.
“Y/n!” Steve groaned at your highly inappropriate joke.
“I’m kidding!” Steve simply rolled his eyes at you.
“I’m just joshing ya,” you grinned, making Steve chuckle.
“How much of your report have you done?” Steve reached for your laptop; making you panic because you didn’t even have your name let alone a title typed out. 
“Seriously?” he looked at you like a stern father.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you said.
“You don’t even have your name,” he cracked a smile.
“Well, your stories are just too captivating; I was distracted,” you weren’t exactly lying, seeing Steve seem so relaxed and carefree thinking back on memories made you smile. 
“Distracted,” he repeated sarcastically.
“Yeah, I was,” you felt small as Steve got closer to you.
“Is this distracting now?” he mocked.
“Maybe,” you whispered.
He looked at your lips before running his nose along your cheek and your own nose. He pressed his lips too close to your lips, of which you were desperate for him to touch. Your hands grabbed at his arms that were held tightly on your waist for any sort of stability. You felt like you were going to pass out. 
“You better finish that report if you know what’s good for you,” he whispered against your lips. 
“Huh?” you breathed out seeing as Steve has stood up and made his way to your door. 
“You heard me. Come find me when you’ve been a good girl and finished that report,” he slipped out smoothly leaving you high and dry, or rather soaking in arousal. 
Your eyes were practically bulging from your head and you couldn’t believe the Steve with that gnarly stick up his ass was the same one that just easily turned you on like an easy-bake oven and called you a ‘good girl’. You immediately rushed to grab your laptop googling facts about World War II and typed faster than Usain Bolt could run.
Meanwhile Steve stood in the shower with cock in hand, his thumb rubbing over the tip leaking with precum. He ran his hand down his shaft and threw his head back at the pleasure. He moaned your name and tensed his muscles getting close to a release. 
He had to hold on to the wall to keep his knees from buckling. The sight of seeing you under him, squirming and wiggling so innocently made his cock twitch. He knew that you liked him, it wasn’t necessarily a huge secret; you weren’t desperate to hide that fact. But he knew you weren’t going around telling people so he never said anything. 
He went to your room genuinely trying to help with your college report and he got enthralled with his own memories. He didn’t exactly know when the air shifted but he realized it indefinitely when your body tensed under his hand that rested perfectly on your thigh. 
He remembers the softness of skin and remembers the way your breathing quickened. He kept the conversation going as innocently as possible but then you started teasing him about his age, about what an old fashioned sucker he was. And all he could think about in that moment was flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress you showing his “old man moves”. 
“Fuck,” he moaned to himself.
Soon enough after a couple more pumps, he painted the shower walls with his cum desperately wishing it was your stomach or even your back. He just wanted you there with him. He felt guilty thinking about you like that. He knew if he were ever to get with you he wouldn't be able to keep up. You were so spright and mischievous and beautiful and gorgeous and sexy and… wait; slow down, Steve.
He got out of the shower and cleaned himself off. He changed and just stayed in his room letting the sounds of the TV drown any thoughts he might wandered to you. A sudden knock broke the silence settled in his room and he opened the door to find his best friend. 
“Hey, man,” Bucky smiled.
“Buck, your back,” Steve opened the door further letting him come in. 
“Oh, did you get my text? About helping Y/n with her report? Heard it’s like forty percent of her grade,” he said. 
“Yeah uh, I did,” Steve said hesitantly; Bucky narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.
“What did you do?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Steve retorted.
“I don’t believe you. Come on what happened?” Buck chuckled.
“She called me an old man,” Steve pouted.
“Haha! Seriously?”
“Yeah but jokes on her cuz I-” Steve stopped himself, what if his best friend thought he was a creep.
“Oh no, did you guys fuck?” he asked suddenly.
“Buck,” Steve groaned.
“You did, didn’t you!”
“Almost!” Steve bursted out, his eyes widening in fear.
“Hey, why are you all freaked out? I thought you liked her?” Bucky questioned.
“Yeah, but what? She’s too young. I thought you were gonna think I was a creep,” Steve was confused.
“Well, how old is she?”
“She’s uh, she’s twenty, almost twenty-one,” he muttered.
“Oh, yikes. Uh, I don’t know man. I mean you’re both adults,” Bucky said. 
“Fuck, man. I really fucked up,” Steve said making Bucky ‘language’ him of which Steve glared back.
“Did you kiss her?”
“No, almost,” Steve responded.
“Ok then what happened?”
Steve explained to Bucky what happened just hours ago and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at his poor friend's antics.
“You’re such a fucking tease, Steve,” Bucky joked.
“Buck, you’re not helping,” Steve grunted.
“Well, either you keep your promise and fuck her good, or be that old man she called you with a stick up your ass and make her feel like shit. No pressure though. See for dinner, I’m going to beat the shit out of Sam,” Bucky stood up.
“What’d he do?”
“Nothing,” with that Bucky left. 
Steve sat there on his bed conflicted. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do. All he knows is that you’re a beautiful girl and Steve wants nothing more than to show you; he knows you'd be more than willing to let him have his way with you. But on the contrary, you are too young. There are tons of guys who would be so lucky to call you theirs; and they’re your age. 
Then again, Steve can’t even imagine another man putting his hands on you. They’d never be able to pleasure you like he could. Ugh, but you called him an old man! Fuck this, Steve thought, I’m taking a nap.
-
You sat in your room busying yourself with facts about the war. You cried about the horrid things that happened, terrified that people that live in the world. You were even more shocked that Bucky and Steve lived through that. 
You glanced at the clock noticing the many hours that had passed you. It was sundown which usually meant Wanda was going to come by any minute-
“What do you want for dinner?” There she is. 
“Uh, I’m not sure. Haven't had much time to think about it,” you said lifting your laptop.
“Did Steve come?”
“I don’t know but he came pretty close,” you said snarkily. When he left about 5 minutes after you had to change your panties because you couldn’t focus on the report with arousal dripping out of you. 
“What the hell does that mean?” Wanda sat on your bed. You told what happened when Steve came by, how innocent everything seemed until it wasn’t. Wanda was rolling on your bed in laughter, snorting at your frustration. 
“Wandaaa,” you whined. 
“Sorry, sorry. But I’m confused,” she cooled down.
“What’s there to be confused about; Steve Rogers is a fucking tease,” you grunted. 
“I thought this is what you want. He clearly seems to like you back,” she said. 
“I don’t know it’s just-”
“Just what?”
“It’s not exactly clear whether he likes me or just wants some young, fresh meat. He didn’t say he liked me back.”
“Did you say you liked him in the first place?”
“No.” Wanda sighed at your answer. Were you overreacting?
“Y/n, I’ve known Steve for a long time and he’s not that kinda guy.”
“People change.”
“Y/n-”
“I just wish it stayed like a little stupid crush, because then I wouldn’t have to worry about my heart getting broken like that; worrying whether it’s real or not. Pining hurts so good, it’s comfortable.”
“Well, on a lighter note, how’s the report?” Wanda changed the subject so you wouldn’t feel bad anymore.
“I’m almost done, I think I’m gonna skip out on dinner. I’m really close to finishing,” you told her.
“Want me to bring you a plate?” she asked.
“Yes, please.”
-
Everyone sat at the table eating silently. Sam held an ice pack to his face because Bucky accidentally threw a rock at him; seriously it was an accident. Bucky threw the rock at his groin but Sam tripped back and the rock landed on his face. There are no hard feelings though, Sam said he was gonna get him and now Bucky’s arm is disabled and limp.
Steve stared at the seat across from him, it was the seat you always took next to Wanda. You weren’t here for dinner and he was wondering if it had something to do with him. Did he make you uncomfortable enough that you never want to see him? 
“She’s finishing her report,” Wanda said, her voice echoing in Steve’s head.
“Ooh what’s the gossip?” Nat said humorously seeing as Wanda’s eyes glowed red as did Steve’s. 
“Nothing,” Steve mumbled. 
“He was wondering where Y/n was?” Wanda said making Steve shoot daggers at her. 
“You miss your little girlfriend?” Sam joked.
“Shut it,” Steve growled.
“She never misses dinner. Where the brat?” Tony asked.
“She has a history report for a college class and she told me she was almost done and that she was gonna skip dinner,” Wanda explained.
No more questions were asked and everyone ate in peace. Small talk and laughter was exchanged appropriately but Steve couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you lied to Wanda to get out of dinner. What if you hate him now? What if you were creeped out by him now? Fuck.
“Steve your plate?” Wanda asked him. 
“Oh sorry, I’m finished. Thank you,” he handed her the plate of picked food. 
“Y/n, asked me if I could bring her a plate when we were finished.”
Steve simply looked puzzled at her. 
“Take this. And don’t break her heart,” she said handing him your plate. 
“I would never,” he said.
“Don’t tell me, tell her.”
Steve walked hesitantly up to your room. He knocked careful not to disturb you. He heard you shout, giving him access to your room and he found you laying on your stomach typing away on your laptop while cartoons played lowly on the TV.
“I brought your dinner,” he said softly.
“Thank you! Ugh, I’m starving but I swear I have like two sentences.”
He smiled and placed your food on your bedside before sitting on the bed with you. He watched your face carefully memorizing the smallest things about you that he’s never really noticed before. He noticed the dryness of your lips because you bit them whenever you were immensely focused just as now. 
He admired the small creases between your eyebrows and the way you scrunched your nose. Your hair was a little crazy and he noticed you had changed since he’d last been with you. He thinks he knows why that is and if it was true, he felt a sense of pride almost. Imagine if he really got to touch the way he wants. How ruined you would be. 
“Steve?” you asked.
“I’m sorry?” he asked.
“Are you ok?” you smiled awkwardly. 
“Oh uh, yeah. I’m ok.”
You ate quietly, eyes trained on the TV and Steve felt out of place. He went to stand up but you placed your food down and called after him.
“Where are you going?” you asked.
“I didn’t think you wanted me here anymore,” he said softly. 
“But, but you said to come find you when I finish my report. You’re already here,” you said shyly.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think-”
“I was a good girl and finished,” you said innocently biting your lip.
“Y/n,” Steve sighed. 
“What?” Oh no, you guessed it. He doesn’t actually like you and he's just messing with you.
“Hey look at me,” Steve grabbed your chin softly. You didn’t want to but you ultimately did.
“I want nothing more than to reward you for being a good girl but I can’t,” he said sadly.
“It's because I’m too young, isn’t it,” you whined. 
“I can’t do that to you. You have your whole life ahead of you, sweetheart. An old man like me shouldn’t keep you back like this,” he said.
“You’re not keeping anywhere, I’m an Avenger just like you. I don’t have anybody else. I’m only going to college because Tony’s paying for it and I took this stupid histroy class because I wanted to know more about what life was like for you. Because I like you,” you said. 
“Y/n, you can have anyone and you’re choosing me?” he chuckled.
“Yes, guys my age don’t even know where the clit is!” you shouted exasperated.
“Show them,” he said stupidly.
“Ah, yes. Because a twenty-two year old college frat boy is gonna wanna listen to you tell him how to have sex,” you said squinting your eyes, making Steve chuckle.
“I don’t want a guy my age, I want you.”
Steve cupped your face softly and you leaned into his hand with a childish pout. Steve smiled at you and your pout turned into a smile too. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, babygirl,” he sighed, pushing you down to lay on the bed.
“Not if you die from a stroke first old man,” you cracked. 
Steve wrapped his large hand around your neck bringing his face dangerously close yours.
“Smart mouth, and to think I was about to reward you.”
His voice gave you chills and you audibly whimpered under him. Steve pressed his leg between your thighs and your body shudder feeling his muscular thigh firmly pressed against your core.
“Fuck,” your voice shook.
“Does that feel good?” he asked mockingly, he knows what he’s doing.
“Yes, Stevie,” you whimpered.
“Fuck, you sound sweet whimpering and shaking under me. Almost feel kinda bad.”
His hand squeezed a bit harder and your body melted into the bed. He leaned down and kissed for the first time. Your eyes opened wide before fluttering closed again wallowing in his kiss. Your hand moved from his forearm to his face cupping it gently and your lips moved against his impeccably. 
His lips faltered and trailed down your throat, his hand pulling your hair gently to move your head back to give him more room. He nipped and bit at your throat hungrily before soothing his marks with his tongue. His hands sneaked up your shirt, his fingertips grazing the skin under your breasts. He could feel the chills that rose all over your skin and he chuckled darkly in your ear. 
“Is this ok?” he asked softly tugging the waistband of your shorts. 
“Yes, please,” you moaned. 
Steve pulled them down little by little pressing kisses to every new part of exposed skin. He littered your hip bones and thighs with light bruises and bites. You were practically dripping in arousal, toes curling under themselves anticipating Steve’s next move.
He stood up at the edge of the bed keeping his eyes trained on yours, slowly unbuckling his belt. He pulled his pants down showing off his very impressive length. He gripped with his hand pumping it softly. He grabbed your ankle with his other hand and pulled you close to the edge of the bed.
“Lay on your stomach, babygirl,” Steve directed.
You eagerly flipped over, pushing your ass up to the air. Steve smiled at your ambition and gently rubbed your cheeks you put up for him. He pumped his cock a few times before lining himself up with you. 
“Fuck, you gonna be my good girl?” he asked seductively.
“Yeah, fuck. Stevie, fuck me good,” you moaned. 
“Open up those pretty legs for me, will ya?” Steve smirked. You spread your legs wider and arched your back more. When Steve finally pushed past your entrance, you felt so full. 
“You gotta breathe baby,” Steve soothed. 
“Sorry, you’re just… so big,” you whimpered.
“I know baby but you're taking my cock so well, you're being such a good fucking girl.”
“Steve!” you squeaked. 
Steve snapped his hips in and out of you rapidly and you couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your mouth. Steve gripped your hips harshly, forming littles red and purple marks on your hip bones that you’ll have to admire tomorrow morning. 
You gasped and moaned at the feeling of Steve’s cock driving into you and you couldn’t hold back any longer. 
“Stevie, I’m gonna come! Fuck, I can’t hold it. Please daddy let me come!”
“Come on pretty baby, come for daddy. Make a mess all over my cock like a good girl,” he groaned above you.
Your body trembled and your arms fell forward as you nearly screamed Steve’s name in pure ecstasy. You breathed heavily but Steve wasn’t done with you yet. He pulled his still ever hard dick out of you momentarily to rid his shirt. He walked to the side of the bed and sat comfortably with his back against the headboard. 
“Come here baby girl. I know you’re tired but I think you pull one more for me, yeah?” his voice was silky. 
You whimpered and tried your best to sit up all the way, crawling desperately over to Steve. He kissed you softly before slowly pulling the hem of your shirt over your head to expose your breasts fully to him. 
“Fuck, you are just too beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered in your ear, his voice raspy making your body shudder above him. 
His hands roamed your body; smoothing over your ribs, your hips to your thighs, back to hips against pulling you impossibly closer to him. His lips again just as before nipped and pecked the skin along your neck and collarbones and you could resist the small whimpers you made. 
“Steve,” you moaned.
“I got ya, baby. I’m right here.”
You looked into his lust blown eyes before kissing him messily. Your age divulges your experience but Steve couldn't care less. You lifted your hips for him and he lined himself once again to your entrance. 
Your arousal made it easier this time around and you were able to fully bask in the feeling and pleasure from Steve’s length. You hastily moved your hips around, back and forth, the position completely new to you. You felt erotic and confident and Steve’s kisses and praises did nothing but egg you on. 
“You're doing so good, my love. God, you keep clenching me like that and I’m gonna blow,” he moaned.
“Please, Stevie. I want to make you feel good,” you encouraged.
“You already are, don’t even worry about that,” he smirked.
Your hands gripped at his shoulders hard, nails digging into his pale skin. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis and soon enough you felt another orgasm approaching quickly. As you grew tired, Steve’s hands went to your cheeks and aided you in moving back and forth.
Your arms gave out again and you fell against Steve's torso still thrusting your hips back and forth with his help. The pressure built rapidly in your lower stomach and you couldn’t hold it again. 
“Steve,” you moaned. 
“I know, just hold on, please. I wanna come with you; I’m almost there,” he gasped. 
You held back as long as you but soon enough your body shook against Steve, desperate to release everything you have in you. In an attempt to distract yourself momentarily, you treated Steve the same by nipping and kissing the skin of his neck and shoulder. Your hands combing into his hair, tugging on his short blonde hair. 
“Ok, go ahead babygirl,” he grunted, “Fuck!”
“Ugh, Steve!” you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder. Ecstasy waved over you and you feel euphoric. Your body trembled from intensity and Steve whispered soft praises in your ear. His words soothed you and your eyes felt heavy. Steve tracing little patterns on the small of your back did not help your tired case. 
“I gotta clean you up, sweetheart,” Steve whispered, you could hear the smile in his voice.
“No, stay with me, please,” you whined. 
“I promise I’ll be back,” he chuckled.
“Hm,” you huffed.
You slowly rolled off of Steve and he practically ran to your bathroom emerging with a warm wet towel in hand. You laid limply on the bed, your breathing slowly returning to normal. Steve kissed your stomach and hips softly as he cleaned between your thighs gently. He went back to the bathroom and cleaned himself up as well.
“Come back,” you whined, making him chuckle.
“Yay,” you cheered softly when he did.
“Are you ok, sweetheart?” 
“Mh-hm,” you nodded tiredly.
“I freaking love you,” you said, hiking your leg over to lay on top of him again. You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” There was a slight moment of pause.
“Do you love me?” your voice crack and tears brimmed your eyes.
“I shouldn’t…” he started. His heart nearly broke when you looked up at him with teary eyes; afraid he would say he didn’t and you fell in love just to get your heart broken.
“But I do,” he finally said.
“Thanks,” you sniffled, making Steve smile.
“I love you, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of your head. 
“I love you too, old man.”
-
The next morning, Steve slipped out of bed while you were still asleep, you looked so beautiful and peaceful. It took everything in him not to just crawl back into bed with you but Steve had a couple things to do and it was already past eight. He promised to himself that he was gonna come back before you wake up.
So he softly closed the door before immediately running around the compound filing paperwork, directing agents and trainees, meeting with Nick Fury, and lastly making breakfast for you and him. Wanda, Bucky, and Sam all sat at the counter eating bowls of cereal watching Steve frantically run around the kitchen making breakfast. 
“What the hell are you doing?” Bucky spoke up. 
“I’m making breakfast,” Steve momentarily stopped to say. 
“Ok, but why are you freaking out like that? You’re running around like a crazy person.”
“I have to make it before-” Steve stopped himself. He didn't know whether or not he should say anything, whether you were comfortable with others knowing yet. 
“What did you do?” Wanda said, smiling like an idiot.
“Nothing, I’m just really hungry and I need to make breakfast before I starve,” he said.
“Really?”  Bucky said.
“Yeah.”
“Where’s Y/n?”
“She’s aslee-” Steve stopped himself again.
The three at the counter bursted into a fit of laughter at Steve’s slip up and he just simply rolled his eyes before finally plating the food and running upstairs. Not without flipping the three still laughing off. 
He slowly opened the door finding you still asleep in bed. He smiled at your beautiful form illuminated by the golden rays of the sun peeking through the curtains. He placed the food on your table before sitting on the bed, his hands softly running up and down your side to slowly wake you. 
Your eyes fluttered open and upon seeing Steve’s gorgeous face you smiled. 
“Good morning, old man,” you grinned cheekily. 
“When are you let that go?” he shook his head.
“Never,” you winked.
“I brought you food, pretty girl.”
“Thank you,” you sat up covering yourself. You ate the food he made for you and made grabby hands for him to cuddle you. He laughed before crawling back into bed with you. You made a face though before he got fully under the covers and he gave a puzzled look.
“What?”
“Why are you all dressed?”
“I had a couple things to do this morning and then I made you breakfast. I couldn’t walk around in my birthday suit,” he laughed.
“Hm, fine. I’ll give you a pass,” you said making him chuckle, “Can you at least take your shirt off again?”
He smiled cheekily before getting up and taking his shirt and pants off leaving him in his boxers. You cheered making him laugh even harder before he dived into bed cuddling you extra close. His strong arms wrapping safely around you and his legs entangling themselves with yours. 
You kissed him one last time before grabbing your TV remote and turning on the TV to watch cartoons.
“You know sometimes you really are a kid,” Steve snickered.
“Yeah grandpa? What about this,” you fluffed his beard that specks of grey hairs.
“Do I need to show my old man moves again?” he smirked.
“Yeah, I think you oughta,” you winked before Steve threw the covers kissing your stomach all the way to your core. You gotta admit, the old man’s got some moves. 
==================
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naughtyneganjdm · 3 years
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Just Not My Type
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Summary: Negan and Y/N are best friends after he saved her when the Apocalypse first started. In their group, Negan is charmed by another woman and it leaves Y/N jealous because she is head over heels in love with Negan. Attempting to get his attention on her, she asks him to help her with something in hopes to get him to realize that he may like her more than he thought.
Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Simon, Dwight, etc. 
Warnings: Swearing, smut, angst, arguing, Negan being an asshole, etc. 
Notes: Pre-warning, Negan is a bit of an asshole and is kind of cruel in this one. This was a request given to me. I'm not sure if people just like me writing asshole Negan or what, but I hope the person who asked for this is happy with it! I wrote this rather quickly. I hope it's at least okay!
“I don’t get it,” Negan grumbled beside Y/N while they walked through the wholesale store together. The rest of the group went off in separate areas of the store to look for supplies and they were supposed to be doing the same. There was a frustrated expression over Negan’s face and she felt a sense of disappointment. When the world fell to shit, Y/N pretty much gave up. It got to the point where she had no one in her life. A few months ago, she had found herself cornered by a group of savages and felt like it was the end of the world as she knew it. Somehow, Negan was passing by while in search of people and heard her getting attacked. He saved her. Just in time too. Since then she hadn’t left Negan’s side. They managed to find Dwight’s group together while lingering and looking for others. They had become somewhat of best friends since they found each other. The only problem was Y/N was head over heels in love with Negan. Unfortunately, Negan didn’t feel the same way. Instead, he seemed to be heavily enamored with Dwight’s wife Sherry. “What does she even see in Dwight? That scruffy looking motherfucker.”
“He’s the leader Negan,” she reminded him with a sigh knowing that his complaining was coming from his jealousy. “A lot of girls are into that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, but look at him and look at me,” Negan reasoned, throwing his hands up in the air while he clutched to the shotgun that was in his hands. “I’m fucking hot. He’s a scrawny little shit.”
“I don’t think she can help who she was married to before all this happened Negan. You’re right though, you’re better. All around,” Y/N agreed with him. She meant it. Obviously. She was in complete awe of the guy. One day she was hoping that he would just open his eyes and realize she was standing right there next to him for him to love. Many times in the past Negan had cracked jokes about her being hot so she thought maybe at some point she would have a chance with him. The longer she waited, the less likely it actually seemed. Maybe she wasn’t giving him the signs that she was interested. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something and since you’re a guy, I figured maybe you would have some advice.”
“Yeah?” Negan grunted, his head lowering enough to look between the shelves while he watched Dwight and Sherry together. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well, you see…there is this guy that I like,” Y/N explained with a sigh, clutching her rifle in her fingers. Her cheeks flushed over with red when Negan finally turned his head to look at her. The way his thick eyebrows bounced up showed that he was interested in what she was saying. “I’ve liked him for a while, but no matter how much I try I just can’t seem to get his attention.”
“Why not? You’re hot. Just tell him you’re interested,” Negan suggested and she looked away from him. Clearly that wasn’t in the playing cards and she would never have the guts to do something like that. “Who is it? Is it Simon?”
“Negan,” her face scrunched up when he suggested Simon who was someone they had just picked up in the group with Dwight. An amused breath fell from her throat and Negan threw his hands up in the air. “It’s not Simon. I’m not going to tell you who it is, but…I don’t think I could tell him that I’m interested in him. He has his eye on someone else.”
“Trust me, if you tell a guy now of all times that you are interested in him, he’s going to jump at the opportunity to get his dick sucked, I promise you that,” Negan grumbled and he could see that her face flushed over making him laugh. “What’s with the blushing? Sucking a dick isn’t such a big deal.”
“Well, there is one thing…” she took in a long shallow breath making Negan’s eyebrow arch up. God, she felt pathetic admitting this to him, but she couldn’t help it. “I kind of haven’t had sex before.”
“Come on,” Negan chuckled, taking a long look at her and he shook his head. The way he laughed made her embarrassed and he nudged her with his arm. The snort he released made her feel even worse about telling him. “How old are you?”
“Okay, forget it,” she rolled her eyes and went to move forward, but Negan quickly followed her not far behind. “Just pretend I didn’t say anything.”
“I’m not making fun of you, but you’re hot and most people lose their virginities too fucking young now so I just kind of figured you’re fucking with me,” Negan insisted, biting at his bottom lip as he spoke. Y/N still didn’t seem interested in talking to him and he let out a dramatic sound. “Okay, come on. You’ve done oral though, right?”
“Something tells me that I don’t want to be talking to you about this,” she replied feeling her throat tightening while Negan looked her over with amusement. “Seriously, I’m not the seductive type that can make a man want me.”
“Well that’s bullshit because you’re fucking beautiful and any man would be lucky to have you,” Negan corrected her reaching for something from the shelves. A grunt fell from his throat as he tossed it aside and let out a loud sigh. God, if only he actually meant that. “Just tell him you’re a virgin. He’ll want you immediately.”
“Virgins aren’t a lot of people’s things Negan,” she reminded him and Negan’s nose wrinkled when she said that.
“That’s bullshit. Every man loves the idea of taking someone’s innocence and purity away. They all like that shit,” Negan reached up to brush his fingers through his dark hair with his free hand. “You might not be the best fuck he’s ever had, but the idea of popping your cherry will turn him on and he’ll want to fuck you immediately.”
“I don’t really want to be a virgin when I go to him,” she whispered and Negan’s eyebrows tensed together as he looked her over with his big, hazel eyes. “I guess I kind of want to know what I’m doing with him by the time I tell him that I like him.”
“And how do you plan on losing that virginity of yours sweetheart? Slim pickings you know,” Negan snorted, the bridge of his nose wrinkling when he spoke. “Unless, I’m sure we can find you a good cucumber around here where you can…”
“Oh shut up,” she begged hearing his laughter filling the air at her reaction. Hitting him firmly in the chest, she walked off toward the back of the store and he quickly followed after her. Entering the area where they had more shelves in the back for storage, she surveyed through the items and sighed. “We should get people back here and have them get some of this. This is good stuff.”
“I’m not making fun of you. Okay? It’s just the way I talk,” Negan reached for her after setting his shotgun down and aside. “No one is going to turn you away for being a virgin. I promise you that and like I said, if you went to the guy and told him how you felt I guarantee that no matter who he had his eye on, he would change his mind quickly because you’re a catch Y/N. Trust me.”
“I wish that were true,” she felt him reaching up to cup her face and so badly she wished that Negan would have wanted her. That he would have wanted to be with her. “Since you’re my best friend you should do me the favor of helping me with the virginity problem.”
“Oh, you don’t want me to do that,” Negan snorted, stepping back and away from her. What started off as a joke actually ended up hurting her feeling unintentionally when Negan denied her. “First of all, we’re friends. That makes that shit weird. Second, I have a huge cock. I’m the last person you want to have sex with as a virgin.”
“I don’t think it’s that big,” she laughed and Negan let out a frustrated sound.
“When have you seen my penis?” Negan scoffed and she looked down toward his groin making him turn away from her when she did. “You have no idea how big my dick is. I’ve been a gentleman and I’ve never pulled it out in front of you.”
“I’m just saying, I can’t picture it being so big to the point that it would destroy me forever,” she mocked what he had said and Negan frowned after she said that. “I just think if I lose my virginity I’d like to lose it to someone I feel comfortable with. Someone that I know and trust.”
“You trust me and you feel comfortable with me?” Negan repeated what she said and she nodded. Licking over his bottom lip, he looked around the area in the back that they were at realizing that they were still alone. “How do you want to lose your virginity?”
“How should someone lose their virginity?” she inquired, her eyebrow arching up in curiosity and Negan laughed.
“On a mattress, in a nice comfortable set of sheets with the perfect mood and setting,” Negan stammered, waving his hand around in the air while he spoke. “Unfortunately since we’re on the road and there are no mattresses for the most part, that’s kind of fucking impossible. No matter how you lose it, it’s never going to be what you deserve. The dead walking is going to make sure of that.”
“In another world maybe,” she responded with a sigh as Negan reached for her rifle and set it aside. “What are you doing?”
“We’ll see,” Negan pulled her into a corner beyond a shelf and he began unbuckling his pants making her eyes get wide. “Get on your knees.”
“What?” she laughed, tilting her head to the side while she looked him over.
“You’ve never given a blowjob before and I could use one, so I’ll help you learn that,” Negan answered, reaching for her hands, leading them toward his pants and she let out a nervous sound. “I haven’t had a release for a very long time. So if you want to learn something to get his attention, I can help you learn that.”
“Shouldn’t we kiss or something? Get the mood started?” she suggested and Negan grinned when she said it. Negan’s jaw flexed and she placed her hands over the center of his broad chest.
“The idea of getting my dick sucked already has the mood started,” Negan answered with a grunt, reaching for her palm to lead her to cup him in her hand through the denim of his jeans. “When you go to him, palm over his body with a sense of confidence. Caress over this area and rub. Wait until you feel him start to get hard and then squeeze at the length of his cock. How many men have you kissed?”
“A few?” her throat was dry while she brushed the length of her palm over Negan’s body. The way his eyes closed made her heart skip a beat before the pace of it began to pick up. A deep, raspy moan escaped Negan’s throat when she felt his body starting to harden against her touch.
“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Negan dragged his tongue over his bottom lip and he reached out to draw his hand out over the side of her neck. His fingers hooked around the back of her neck to draw her in closer to him. The sound of her nervous breaths filled the air and Negan smirked. “Don’t be nervous. You trust me, remember?”
Before she could respond, Negan’s lips collided with hers causing her to fall in closer to him. The way he kissed her took her breath away and she eagerly kissed him back. With Negan stroking his thumb over her jawline, she found herself falling deeper into the kiss. A warmth pooled at her core and she was swooning, bad. Negan had no idea that he was the man she was in love with. This to her was like a dream come true. A breath hitched in her throat allowing a quick flick of Negan’s tongue over hers and she returned the gesture hearing him hum when she did it.
“You’ve got something going with the kissing,” he breathed against her lips, his eyes hooked on hers when he pulled back to stare at her. Leaning in, he dragged his tongue over her bottom lip hearing her whimper when he did it. Growling as Y/N squeezed at his body, Negan looked down between them and panted. “Take it out.”
“You sure?” she confirmed with him and Negan snorted.
“I’m not the innocent one here,” Negan responded with a grunt while she started to pull apart his belt. Negan leaned his left arm against the wall while watching her fingers fumbling to get the button apart. As her fingers dragged down the zipper, he closed his eyes tightly when her mouth pressed in over his jaw. The soft kisses she pressed over his jaw and toward his neck made him groan out loud. When she kissed at his earlobe and bit softly at it, it caused a shudder to fill his body. Keeping his right hand at the base of her throat, Negan stroked his thumb over the center of it and could see her lowering her head as she got his pants apart. Reaching down, she grabbed the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled down to allow his semi-erect cock to spring free into the cool air. Immediately she reached out to wrap her palm around the shaft of his body, caressing up and down slowly. “You can be a bit rough with it. You won’t break it…”
Negan licked his lips lowering his hand that was around her neck to adjust the grip she had on his body while urging her to pump her hand over his body in a different way. Teasing his flesh over his body, Y/N could feel her body attempting to tremble, but she was doing her best to keep it together. Negan’s eyes were on her like a hawk while she touched him. When his cock was completely solid in her palm, she licked her lips and watched Negan’s nod down toward his body.
Lowering down to her knees, she felt a rush of panic filling her body. If she was awful at this, that would be what Negan remembered her for. This was very brave of her to do in the first place considering Negan was the man she was swooning over.
“It’s big, right?” Negan affirmed with her and she looked up at him with expressive eyebrows.
“With the way you were talking I was expecting a foot long,” she teased, a smile sneaking in over the corner of her lips and Negan rolled his eyes.
“That’s impossible and if it is possible, no one wants that,” Negan grunted reaching down to squeeze at the thick base of his cock. “I can say with confidence that I know I have a thick, above average sized uncut cock and I know for a fact that in your virgin pussy…it would still hurt.”
“I figure if you were good with it, it wouldn’t hurt much…right?” she confirmed watching his eyebrows arch up when she said that. Sitting up straighter on her knees, she went to lean forward, but Negan stopped her and reached out to slide his thumb in over her bottom lip.
“Take this into your mouth first,” Negan ordered, watching her lips part for him and he pushed his thumb between her lips. Softly, she sucked at his thumb before twisting her tongue around it making him hum in approval. “Good girl. Make sure to vary with your tongue, your mouth and hand. If you use all three, you’ll have the guy of your dreams buckling at the knees.”
“Yes sir,” she purred making Negan release a muted moan when she said it like she did. There was no doubt she was uncomfortable. She was on the spot and as Negan’s fingers sank into her hair, she knew it was now or never. Keeping a firm hold on his body, she took the tip of his cock into her mouth and heard him sigh heavily. It caused him to drop his head back and lick his lips. Dragging her tongue over the head of his cock felt so dirty, but she wanted to make an impression. Licking at his body, in long drawn out motions caused his grip on her hair to get tighter.
“Hollow your cheeks and drag your tongue against my cock when you pull back,” Negan grunted pushing her down his length only to allow her to pull her head back. Leading the motion a few times, Negan could tell that she understood what he wanted and attempted to repeat what he had showed her. “Very good sweetheart.”
Taking time to do what he asked of her, she could feel his hips pumping up toward her throat and she tried to focus on not gagging. Occasionally it would happen and she couldn’t stop it from being that way. When she took him as far in her throat as she could, Negan braced himself against the wall and whimpered.
“Fuck me,” he breathed out, his eyes hooking with hers and he smiled. “You’re really going all in, aren’t you?”
“I just want to make you happy,” she pulled her lips from his body with a wet sound and jerked her palm over his body that was covered in her own saliva. Kissing at the base of his cock, she kept her eyes hooked on his and shrugged. “I want to give you everything you want.”
There was something different in Negan’s face as he seemed to think about something. Going back to try to pleasure him, she gasped when she felt him tugging her back up to her feet. Licking her lips, she gave him a shocked expression and bit at her bottom lip, “Did I do something wrong?”
Quickly moving her, Negan turned her toward the shelves and reached for her hands to force them onto one of them. Shoving her pants down her legs, Negan stood behind her and pumped his hand over his length. Keeping his hand on her neck, he could hear her panicked breaths and he stepped forward. Dragging the tip of his cock through her wet folds, he heard her cry out as he did it.
“You’re fucking soaked,” Negan released himself and palmed in over her mound. She was shaking and Negan felt a chill run down his spine. Teasing his fingers over the length of her sex was his way of testing her. Circling his fingertips over her entrance, he waited until her breathing was uneven and then pressed his middle finger inside of her. The sound she made caused his cock to twitch with excitement. With how tight she was around his fingers, Negan found himself completely in awe with her. “You really are a virgin, huh?”
She didn’t have to say anything. It was obvious. Nodding, she tried to keep herself steady on her legs while Negan thrust his finger inside of her. When he added another finger, she found the sensation completely foreign and to be honest kind of uncomfortable. Clutching to the shelves, she bit down extremely hard on her bottom lip. Probably too hard.
When Negan’s fingers pulled from her body, it felt strange. The sound of Negan spitting was heard behind her and she looked over her shoulder to see Negan caressing over his length. Before she could respond, Negan was grabbing a hold of her hips, positioning her where he wanted her. Pressing his cock to her entrance, he kept an exceedingly tight grasp with his left hand on her hip while his right kept a hold of his erection.
Thrusting forward, the sound of her cry filled the air when he entered her and it was like music to his ears. The moan he let out the moment her tight body parted for him was loud enough for others to hear if they were near. Reaching around her, she pressed her hand in over Negan’s hips knowing that she wanted this, but this wasn’t exactly how she pictured losing her virginity to Negan. Taking a moment, Negan seemed to respect that she needed some time to get used to what he had put inside of her before he started to thrust his body into her time and time again.
“Fuck sweetheart,” Negan growled, lowering in closer to her so he could rest his jaw over her shoulder. Lifting his hands, he hooked his fingers with hers and heard the smacks of their skin filtering into the air while he fucked her from behind. Nuzzling his nose against the back of her neck, Negan grunted and found himself loving the firm grip her body had around his body. “You may just have the tightest pussy I’ve ever had.”
“Negan,” she cried out his name knowing that they weren’t being quiet. If someone were to come back there, it would be obvious what they were doing. The fullness she had with his cock inside of her was foreign and she was doing her best to enjoy it. It was more so the idea of who she was with that was drawing her to try and enjoy things. When he pressed his full length into her, she involuntarily reached back to push into his hip to try to get him back. “Too much.”
“It’s not too much. We just have to get you to relax,” Negan breathed against her ear, nipping at her earlobe when he reached around with his right hand to caress his fingers over her clitoris making her whine when he did it. Taking his time to work his caress over her sensitive bundle of her nerves, Negan loved the sounds he was drawing from her. When her cries became more of those of pleasure, he started rolling his hips again. “There we go.”
Within time things started feeling better as Negan angled his hips differently. She was doing her best to stay up on her legs while Negan continued to rock his hips into hers. The deep plunges his body made inside of her made her bite at her bottom lip and her soft cries filled the air. Using that as encouragement, Negan quickened the caress of his fingertips over her body and thrust his hips at the same pace.
“Let it happen,” Negan whispered when he could sense that she was holding back. “Cum for daddy.”
“Negan,” she shuddered, lowering her head and Negan grasped tightly to her body to keep her steady while he continued his motions through her orgasm. The room was spinning around her, her thighs convulsing. It didn’t stop Negan’s movements and his mouth peppered kisses over her neck. When his sharp winces followed, she could feel the pulsating of his body inside of her. It was a strange feeling but when he began to empty himself into her, she found herself panicked.
Every muscle in Negan’s body was flexing behind her. He was pressed up against her back until he finished with his orgasm. Taking a moment to stand there for them, Negan chuckled and bit firmly at the side of her neck. Looking down, Negan very slowly pulled his softening cock from her body. The dripping sounds of their fluids hitting the floor were heard and he let out a proud breath.
“Hold onto the shelves so you don’t fall,” Negan suggested as he began to pull his pants back up over his body. Pushing his cock back into his boxer briefs, Negan squeezed over his body and could see her resting her head forward against the shelves. She was still shaking and the sounds she was making showed that she was trying to catch her breath. Helping her pull her pants back up her body, Negan led her toward one of the pallets to get her to sit down and she winced. “You’re going to hurt for a while, but welcome to the world of normal. You don’t have to worry about being a virgin anymore.”
Reaching out, he urged her eyes to his and gave an arrogant bob of his head, “No one will ever be the first man to have you or to give you your first orgasm. It will always be me. I hope you always think of me with your future lovers.”
When Negan lowered in closer to her, she reached up to draw her hand over the side of his face to pull her to him. A pleased sound escaped Negan’s lips as she kissed him in a long drawn out motion, “You’re welcome…”
“Negan,” she swallowed down, pushing her forehead to his when she thought about what they did. “Should you have pulled out?”
“Nah, unfortunately I can’t have kids,” Negan informed her with a wince as he pulled his belt back together. There was a sense of sadness in her eyes as Negan shrugged his shoulders. “I tried for fucking ever before all of this to have children with Lucille. It never worked. I’m like a hundred percent certain I’m sterile.”
“Oh,” she didn’t know how to respond and Negan shrugged his shoulders. It didn’t seem to bother him that much and she bit down on her bottom lip. “Was that okay?”
“Oh yeah,” Negan reached out to squeeze at her shoulder in a supportive grasp. “I’m going to go get someone to tell them about the supplies back here. I’ll be right back.”
Nodding, Y/N lowered her head when Negan left and she swallowed down hard. Part of her was happy that Negan was her first, but the other part of her wasn’t exactly happy with how it happened. It also didn’t seem like it meant much to Negan where as it meant everything to her. Their group came in the back to get the supplies and a few of them took notice of how she seemed to be different while she sat there. Negan explained that she got ‘injured’. Other than that they didn’t really expand upon what happened. It certainly was hard to move around after what happened, so the walk back to the campsite wasn’t exactly the best.
At nightfall, Y/N had taken her sleeping bag down by the water to sit by the fire. She wanted some time to think about things alone. By asking Negan to take her virginity, she felt like she was being obvious in telling him that he was the one that she liked. Unfortunately, it didn’t really resonate with Negan that’s where she was headed with things. Pulling her legs up closer to her chest, she heard the sound of someone moving in beside her and she huffed when she saw it was Negan with his sleeping bag underneath his arm.
“Why are you taking off from the rest of the group?” Negan pondered, sitting down with Y/N after he laid out his sleeping bag beside her. The group was very far off in the distance nowhere near the water and his eyes surveyed her over carefully. “You know you shouldn’t be alone. One of the dead could come out of nowhere and gnaw on you.”
“I’m not sure that would really bother anyone,” she chuckled and Negan frowned as he leaned in to rest his head on her shoulder.
“It would bother me for sure. You’re my best friend here,” Negan reminded her and let out a hesitant breath. “In fact, I feel like you’re the only person that can stand me right now.”
“Well people are stupid and they don’t know what they’re missing out on,” she reached out to pat him on the thigh and he tilted his head to the side. “I just needed some time to myself to think about things. You didn’t have to come down here if you didn’t want to.”
“I wanted to,” Negan assured her, dropping back against the sleeping bags. Stretching out his body, Negan looked up at the sky and urged her to lay back with him. “I’m sorry I kind of fucked up your first time. I got carried away.”
“It wasn’t fucked up,” she retorted with sigh as she rested back on the sleeping bag. Negan reached for her hand to grab a hold of it and she felt him bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss over the back of it. “I’m sure with this day in age, it was a decent one.”
“Maybe we should have a do-over,” Negan stated, his expression staying the same while he looked up at the stars. Looking over at Negan, her eyes narrowed and he offered up a bright smile. “Maybe pretend that now is your first time. Under the stars, beside the fire. That sounds more like the right way to do things.”
“Stop, they could see us,” she laughed and Negan shook his head. “Plus, you don’t want to do that again.”  
“I actually totally do. Also, they only care about themselves,” Negan sat up and reached for his shirt to pull it from his body. Tossing the material aside, he saw her eyes surveying over his slender form. Starting to undo his pants, Negan got the rest of his clothes off except for his boxer briefs and urged her up onto her knees. “I think it’s only right to do after I fucked up so bad earlier. Don’t be shy now. We fucked in that store and everyone could have heard us.”
“To be fair, I never thought it would be going that far,” she reminded him and watched as Negan undid his sleeping back to spread it completely out.
He did the same with hers before helping to get her out of her clothes. It seemed like Negan didn’t give a shit if anyone saw them as he tugged down his boxer briefs. Yet the whole time the only thing she could think about was the rest of their group seeing them. When Negan leaned her back against the sleeping bag, she watched him pull the sleeping bag in over him as he lowered down over her making her let out a shuddering breath.  
“See, now we’re hidden enough for you,” Negan lowered himself over her, bracing himself on his elbows. Dipping down, his lips pressed in over hers and he could feel her palms sliding up over the length of his back. Bracing his weight on his left arm, Negan reached down between them and heard the nervous sound she let out. “You’re already been through the hard part. It won’t get any worse than that moment.”
“It’s still very new for me,” she swallowed down and Negan smiled, lowering his forehead to hers. Instead of going right into it like he had planned, she could feel him touching and caressing her to get her prepared. Lifting up, she kissed him and was eager to have some kind of bond between them. The fact that Negan was willing to do this again was a good thing she thought. That meant maybe he felt for her the way she felt for him. It just took what happened at the store for things to work out. Pulling her mouth from his, she stared him in the eyes and stroked over the side of his face. “You are an amazing man.”
Instead of responding, Negan snickered and his nose wrinkled. Shuddering, she felt Negan reaching between them again. Tracing his tip through her folds, Negan took his time to watch her reaction to it. When she was shaking, Negan took that as initiative to lead his body toward her entrance. Pushing his hips forward, he heard her whimper out and his forehead creased. His jaw lowered and he braced his palms beside her when he entered her fully.
“Fuck,” Negan grunted, lowering his head to nuzzle his nose against her neck. Clutching to Negan’s hair she could feel his thrusts were more careful and drawn out. Much like he had said that he wanted to do. The closeness of their bodies underneath the sleeping bags as well as doing this under the night sky was perfect. This was so good that it almost felt like dream of hers because she would have never pictured having Negan like this. Negan’s head lifted and he stared down at her trying to see if she was enjoying what they were doing. “Better?”
“Much,” she whimpered when he started to quicken the rolling of his hips toward her. Kissing Negan in this position was so much better than earlier in the day. The way he was looking at her, touching her and making sure that every movement was to her liking was amazing. “Negan…”
“Shh…enjoy the moment,” Negan hummed against her lips before sliding his lips to her jawline to press wet kisses over her flesh.
Compared to their first time together, this was exceedingly better. When they had finished Negan had held her in his arms until both of them had fallen asleep. That’s how it had been multiple times after that moment. They would spend all of their time together hanging out and would fall into each other most nights.
Even though he hadn’t said it or they hadn’t really acknowledged it, things felt like they were dating. That’s how close they often were. It was special for Y/N because she felt like she was getting to have a relationship with Negan and she cared greatly for him.
After some time, Negan had won over the trust of the group they were in and people had started looking to Negan instead of Dwight to be in charge after some close calls. It was nice getting to see Negan get the attention that he deserved for saving people and she was proud of him, but it meant getting to spend less time with him.
While she sat sitting alone to herself, she wished she would see Negan since it was her birthday. Reading through the latest book that she had found, she let out a gasp when someone hopped down beside her. A bright smile spread over her features when she realized it was Negan beside her. His dimples sank in when he saw that he had shocked her and he chuckled.
Negan reached inside of his pocket to pull out a cupcake that was wrapped in a package. Ripping it open, Negan held his hand up to motion her to wait a moment as he pulled out a candle to stick it in the middle. She couldn’t help, but giggle when he did it and her eyes connected with his, “What is this?”
“It’s not a homemade cake, but it’s the best I could do right now. I had to pocket this the moment I found it just for this moment,” Negan’s eyebrows arched and he could see that she was shocked with the gesture. A proud smile was over Negan’s face knowing how touched she seemed to be by it. Reaching into his pocket he grabbed the lighter and lit the candle before holding it out close to her. “It’s your birthday. Make a wish.”
“You remembered?” she confirmed and Negan nodded, his face scrunching when she seemed surprised. “This is incredibly nice Negan.”
“The wind is going to blow out the candle and then your wish is going to go completely out the window,” Negan teased and she chuckled before doing as he asked of her. After she blew out the candle, Negan could see that her eyes closed and he took advantage. Moving in to kiss her, he felt her shocked against the movement and when they parted Negan let out an amused breath. “Now what was your other wish?”
“God,” she rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh when Negan moved in to kiss her a few more times playfully.  Raising his finger, Negan motioned her to wait as he went over to his bag that was in the distance. Noticing that he had an old Polaroid camera in his hand she could see him swiftly moving toward her. “What is that?”
“I hid these when I picked them up so no one knew I had the good stuff,” Negan looked over his shoulder to make sure they were alone. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in closer to him and cuddled his head up next to hers. “We’re going to take one…so smile…”
Quickly rising up the Polaroid camera, Negan leaned in to press a kiss in over her cheek to snap a photo of the two of them together. When it came out, he handed it over to her to hold before attempting to take another one. For this one she reached out with her free hand to press in over his chin to pull him closer to her so she could kiss his cheek. Snorting, he grabbed the next photo that came out and went to put the camera back in his bag.
“Now that one is yours…and this one is mine,” Negan waved the photo to try and get it to develop faster and a chuckle fell from his throat. Dropping down beside her again, Negan made sure that he was close to her and could see that she was eyeing over the photo. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re cute,” her eyes met Negan’s. He was watching her closely clearly trying to read how she was feeling. “You know how much I care about you, right?”
“Of course I do,” Negan winked and nudged her playfully with his elbow, “You’re my best friend.”
“I think we’re a bit beyond best friends,” she suggested and Negan shrugged his shoulders before looking down to the photo he had taken for himself.
“I have one more thing that I have planned for tonight,” Negan started to talk to only hear someone call out to him and he looked over his shoulder to see someone in the group waving him down. “Being the leader now sucks because you can’t get ten seconds to fucking breathe, but go to apartment two-c in about two hours, okay? I have some things I have to talk about with the rest of the guys.”
“Why?” her nose wrinkled and Negan hopped up from where he was sitting. He slid his picture that he had into his pocket and looked back toward the person that was waving him down again.
“It’s a birthday thing, so just do it,” Negan ordered, snapping his fingers at her and she shrugged her shoulders. She was completely enamored with Negan and loved him. There was no doubt in that. Whatever he had planned, he seemed pretty proud of, so it excited her.
Waiting those two hours, she headed to the apartment building that they had set up outside of. Moving inside, she went upstairs to the second floor and found the room that he had asked her to come to. Pushing open the door, she let out a nervous sound and saw that he had candles lit in the apartment making her chuckle.
“Negan?” she called out looking in the bedroom hoping to find Negan there when she couldn’t find him in the rest of the apartment. There was a box on the bed that said open me written on it.
Moving forward, she grabbed a hold of it and saw that there was a keychain inside of it. Picking it up, she saw that it was one that had stars on it with the words ‘you are my shining star’ on it. A laugh fell from her throat when she looked it over and ran her thumb over the front of it. She wondered if he had grabbed it for her since the second time that they were together they had done it under the stars together and he made a rather big deal about it.
The sound of something knocking over was heard in the bathroom and she looked over her shoulder toward it. Going to the door, she pushed it open slowly to hear the sounds of loud breaths filling the air. When her eyes fell upon what was inside, she felt her heart breaking.
Negan had Sherry propped up against the sink and her arms were hooked around Negan’s shoulders. Negan’s pants were at his ankles while he thrust his hips up toward her again and again. There was a sinking feeling in her gut while Sherry’s cries filled the small bathroom. Stepping back, Y/N headed for the door and felt her chest aching. She knew that Negan had originally had a thing for Sherry, but she thought at this point after weeks of them being together that Negan actually liked her. For some reason she pictured in her mind that they were dating and they were together. With all the time they had been spending together and the way that Negan had been treating her she just thought more was going on.
Why would he tell her to come to the apartment? Was he planning on hurting her the whole time? All she knew was that she was hurt and broken hearted after what she saw. There was an overwhelming amount of emotions flooding over her as she made it back outside and went to sit on the brick wall that surrounded the apartment building they were at.
About twenty minutes later, she heard someone calling out her name and she glanced over her shoulder to see that Negan was moving out toward her. Ignoring him, she adjusted her position back to where she was before. She hated him right now and with how upset she was, she didn’t even want to see his face.
“You will never guess what just happened,” Negan hopped up on the brick wall with her. There a giant smile spread out over his features, but when he saw her crying he let out a tense breath. A nervous laugh fell from Negan’s throat when he looked her over. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Something tells me we’re both reacting over the same thing,” she responded looking at the keychain that was in her hand that Negan had obviously found for her. Lifting her head, her eyes connected with his and she could see that he was genuinely confused. “You’re such an asshole.”
“What?” Negan stammered, a grunt falling from his throat when she slid down from the wall. A moment later she threw the keychain at him and it hit him in the center of the chest before falling into his lap. “Why are you acting like this?”
“I’m so stupid,” she walked off in the distance toward the field that was to the left of the apartment building. Negan hopped down to follow her toward the woods where she was headed. When she got a bit ahead, she felt Negan grabbing a hold of her wrist to tug her back to him. “She doesn’t even like you. You know that? She only fucked you because now you have power. Before people started looking up to you she didn’t even look at you.”
“This is about Sherry?” Negan confirmed with a snort and he watched her folding her arms out in front of her chest. Looking down at the keychain, he held it up and shrugged his shoulders. “She saw me heading into the building and then followed me I guess. I was setting up the thing for your birthday and…”
Negan looked down at the keychain that was in his hand and he lifted his gaze to hers, “Didn’t like your gift?”
“It lost its special meaning when I saw the two of you together,” she tried to leave, but she felt Negan forcing her against one of the trees that was behind her to keep her in place. Wincing, she could feel the bark scraping her arm and Negan loosened his grip when he realized he had hurt her. “Let me go Negan. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore."
“You’re my best friend,” Negan reminded her and his eyebrows bounced up. A laugh fell from her throat when she started crying again and it was clear that Negan was sincerely confused which made this worse. “I don’t understand why you are acting this way? I thought you would be happy for me. You know how I felt about Sherry. I don’t get why you are acting like this.”
“Which makes this so much worse Negan. You really are just a massive piece of shit aren’t you?” she shoved into his chest and Negan let out a grunt when she hit him. She hit him a few more times in the chest and Negan stared down at her with a shocked expression. “I can’t believe I saw more in you than there actually was. I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. I hate you.”
“Now is not the time to be a bitch to me when I’m in charge,” Negan muttered as she started to walk away and Negan’s eyebrows were furrowed when she turned on her heel to look back at him. “You decide to do this to me when things start going right for me? Are you jealous?”
“Wow,” she let out a shocked sound when Negan threw the keychain he had gotten her aside in the dirt. “You think this is me jealous that you are in charge now? You are so blind and stupid if that’s really where you think is coming from.”
There was a moment of silence between them and she reached up to wipe at her face. Shaking her head, she moved to leave him and Negan grabbed her again, pulling her to him. A gasp fell from her throat when she fell into his chest and Negan grabbed a tight hold of her jaw. Digging his fingers into her jaw, he forced her to look at him and he felt her fighting to get out of his grasp until he demanded her attention with the way he grabbed a hold of her.
“I would highly rethink anything you are considering doing or saying to me in the next few minutes,” Negan warned her and he could feel her tears against his fingertips while he turned her head to the side. “I’ve been good to you when I didn’t need to be, so I’d show a little gratitude toward me if you want to still be part of my life.”
Trying to pull herself from his grasp, she winced when his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. The way his angry eyes were hooked on her made her heart hammer inside of her chest. How could he be so oblivious to the fact that she was in love with him and she thought they were actually dating?
Finally, he released her with a shove and it caused her to stumble over her feet making her fall to the ground. Negan stood before her, his eyes narrowing while she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position on the ground. Rubbing at the side of her face where he had been grabbing her, she felt the tears continue to burn at her eyes knowing that Negan had turned out to be everything that she thought he wasn’t.
Getting up from the ground, she said nothing more and started walking away from Negan toward where her things were. The sound Negan let out showed that he was angry with her for just walking away instead of saying anything more. That night when they were all surrounded by the fire for dinner she had seen Negan glaring out at her and she tried to avoid eye contact with him. It broke her that instead of understanding that he hurt her, he just assumed that she was jealous of him becoming the leader of the group.
After that night, things progressed quickly for Negan. They had found The Sanctuary and Negan had built his team of Saviors. At some point Y/N had thought that Negan would eventually realize what happened and he would come to her to talk to her, but he never did. They never talked after that moment and when he would be around he would never acknowledge her. Somehow she had ended up being one of his lower ranked Saviors and watching Negan marry woman after woman hurt. Especially considering the special circumstances that he hadn’t even clearly known about with her.
Multiple times she had tried to get a meeting with him through Simon. The first few times Simon had seen if Negan would talk to her, but every single time Simon would come back and tell her that Negan didn’t want to talk to her or he was too busy.
After getting pretty desperate she had gone to Negan’s office one night hoping to be able to talk to Negan about some things. She wouldn’t have done if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, but she knew that she had to talk to him. Going at night she assumed that he would be alone, but she let out a disappointed sound when she saw Simon standing near the door talking to Negan. When she made it near the door, Simon heard her steps and the look he gave her when he saw her made him let out a disappointed sound.
“I told you, he doesn’t have time to talk to you,” Simon grunted, stepping into the hallway to reach for her arm to tug her away from the door. “If you have a question, you can come to me later and I will answer it for you.”
“Simon, I get it. I just need to talk to him, okay?” she looked to the door to see Negan sitting at the desk with an amused expression. Instead of being the laid back man she had grown to love, his once messy hair was now slicked back and he had an arrogant smile over his features. “It’s important.”
“Nothing is important enough for you to continuously ignore what I’ve been telling you,” Simon grunted, shoving her toward the railing that surrounded the second floor for people to look down to the first. “You don’t get to just demand time with Negan. If Negan wants to talk to you, he’ll come to you. It doesn’t work the other way around.”
“Negan, please…” she looked beyond Simon toward Negan that was watching the two of them together. It seemed like he was amused with what was happening and she felt her heart breaking knowing that this was a man she was once close to. “I just…”
“I said fuck off,” Simon shoved her again before reaching for her wrist to grasp a tight hold of it. It made her wince with how hard he was holding onto it. The yank he gave her made her cry out as he pulled her away from Negan’s office. “I’ll be right back boss man. This one can’t seem to take a hint.”
“I just have to talk to him about something important,” she tried to reason, but Simon continued to drag her toward the steps to go to the first floor even knowing that her room was on the second floor.
“How many times have I fucking told you no? Huh?” Simon tugged her and she felt her chest aching while he glared down angrily at her. “Maybe some time in one of the dark rooms will make you realize what you’re doing wrong.”
“Simon,” Negan’s voice boomed in behind them and Simon looked over his shoulder to see that Negan was standing in the doorway. “I’ll give her five minutes.”
“Kneel,” Simon ordered with Negan standing before them and when she didn’t she felt Simon digging into her shoulder to get her to lower down. When she didn’t bow for him, Simon forced her to lower her head and Negan’s laugh filled the air. In the past if someone would have manhandled her like that she was certain that Negan would have kicked their ass and not thought twice about it, but now he was laughing. In the past he had saved her more times that she cared to admit, but now he was just as bad as the men he had saved her from if not worse. When Negan started heading back toward his office, Simon allowed her to get up and he shoved her toward the office. When Simon pushed her inside, Negan waved his fingers in the air for Simon to shut the door and Simon obeyed.
Watching Negan saunter over to his seat, she felt her throat going dry as he set Lucille against the side of the desk and then dropped down in his seat. Finally, Negan’s eyes met hers and he simply shrugged his shoulders, “What’s so damn important that you’ve tried to force yourself in here multiple times?”
“We just…we need to talk,” she informed him and Negan gave her a dramatic expression as if motioning her to continue. “I know I upset you a few months ago, but you’ve been avoiding me and refuse to talk to me. I didn’t know how to talk to you. I didn’t think you would just straight up pretend like I didn’t even exist anymore.”
“You don’t to me,” Negan interrupted her, his eyebrows arching up as he spoke and he bit into his bottom lip. “You’re just someone that exists to make the process of this place continue to work. You understand? You’re a resource.”
“That’s not how things used to be,” she swallowed down hard and saw the way that Negan gave her a sideways glance.
“What are you trying to say?” Negan laughed, propping his feet up on his desk while Y/N stared out at him. “I really haven’t had the time to hang out if that’s what you’re talking about. I know we were close before I became the leader, but things change. You know?”
“I know that and I understand that. I know you’re busy,” she knew that she didn’t want to fight with him. She just had to talk to him and tell him something. “What I kind of have to talk about was around that time when were in that wholesale store together.”
She hoped in reminding him of their time together, he would actually start to look at her in a better light. Negan clasped his hands together in his lap. An arrogant smile tugged at his lips when his eyebrows tensed together.
“You’re talking about when I fucked you and took your virginity?” Negan responded and she felt her heart sink when he said it like that that. Nodding, she bit at her bottom lip and sighed heavily. Having him talk like that caused her face to flush over and he acted like it was no big deal. “What about it? Are you just looking to knock booty again?”
“No, there are just a few things about that time that I think we need to talk about. I think I need to be honest with you about something from back then and then you should know something kind of important,” she realized that this was going to be hard because she had never been fully honest with Negan in the past things about things because she was nervous how he would react. “See...that day I told you that I liked someone, I wasn’t completely honest with you because it was you that I liked Negan. I was just nervous to tell you. I didn’t know how you would handle it, so I said what I did. You were the person that I really wanted to be with.”
“Well that’s a smart way to get someone to fuck you if they are the person you are attracted to,” Negan’s face scrunched up and he sat there waiting for her to say something more. “And?”
“I just kind of thought after that moment in the wholesale store that the two of us were dating,” she explained, her voice stammering as she spoke. It was hard to keep eye contact with Negan because his blank stare was almost making her feel small. “We were always together. You kept doing nice things and we were together…a lot. So when I saw you with Sherry on my birthday...”
The smile slowly faded from Negan’s features and his eyebrows bounced up, “That’s why you were a bitch toward me.”
“Within reason I think,” she muttered and Negan snorted before starting to laugh. Negan lowered his head and pinched at the bridge of his nose.
“Well, your actions make sense now that I know you were jealous over me fucking Sherry on your birthday,” Negan almost added emphasis to his words to dig the knife deeper. It made her shift on her feet uncomfortable and he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. “I don’t know what made you think we were dating though.”
“It was the way you were with me, the things you said,” she recalled how amazing he had been with her after they had slept together the second time.
“Did I ever say we were dating?” Negan inquired, his face turning somewhat red as he stared out at her. Lowering her head, she felt stupid when he said that and realized that he was trying to dig things in harder. “Speak when you are spoken to. Answer me. Did I ever say we were dating?”
“No,” she answered, her eyes burning with the way he was talking to her.
“No, I didn’t,” Negan repeated with a scowl and he dropped his feet down from the desk to place his hands out over the top of it. “In order for people to be dating, you both have to kind of acknowledge it, right?”
“Negan…” she felt a tear sliding down the side of her face and she tried to think of something to say, but was lost for words.
“Right?!” Negan demanded her response and she bit at her bottom lip.
“Right,” she repeated what he wanted her to say.
“So if someone was at fault for thinking there was something more between us…was it me? Or was it you?” Negan grunted and she felt like her body was on fire while he continued to belittle her. The sound of his hand slamming against the top of his desk was heard and it made her jump. “If you continue to avoid answering my questions…”
“It was my fault,” she whispered and even though she didn’t want to be she felt tears sliding down her face. More than anything she wanted to act like this wasn’t bothering her, but it was.
“So I didn’t deserve you treating me like that? Did I?” Negan snapped, but she refused to look at him. Standing up from the desk, Negan moved around and reached for her jaw to force her eyes to connect with his.
“No, you didn’t,” she told him what he wanted to hear and he nodded slowly. The way his jaw was flexing made her uncomfortable. “I just thought after that day you might try to talk to me, but the more power you got the more things changed. You married multiple women and…”
“Get to the point. You’re boring me at this point,” Negan rolled his eyes and firmly released her jaw to move back toward his desk to sit on the edge of it.
“I don’t know, I just thought you might have missed me,” she looked down at herself knowing that she may have not been as much of a looker as she was when they first got together. Things had been rough with being one of his lower level saviors. Her clothes weren’t great and it wasn’t like Negan provided her with things that would draw her to be appealing to him. “That what we had might have been special to you and you would have eventually asked me to…”
“Oh, I see,” Negan chuckled realizing where she was going with this. “You think that the two of us have some kind of connection. You think we have a bond.”
She said nothing, but Negan had a rumble of laughter fall from his throat and he grasped tightly to the edge of the desk, “Back then, I hadn’t had sex since before Lucille died. I would have stuck my cock in any hole that was asking and you were pretty much begging. Now that I’m in charge, I have girls lining up to be my wife. They like the benefits. They like the power. I get to fuck any pussy that I want. I’m not desperate like I was then.”
“Desperate?” she repeated his words and he smiled brightly while nodding once. “So are you saying that I’m not someone that you would want to be with?”
“You’re just not my type,” Negan grunted in almost a vicious tone, his nose wrinkling when he looked her over. “I fucked you because you were there. We didn’t have a bond. We didn’t have something special and I’m honored that your little crush was on me, but what did you expect when you came in here today? That I was going to admit to you that my feelings were the same and I would beg you to be one of my wives too? I didn’t even make you one of my higher up saviors. Fuck, I haven’t even thought about you since that day you got upset with me. Now if you want to fuck again, I’ll consider it, but other than that...I think we’re done here.”
“Okay,” she felt her bottom lip trembling hearing that from Negan she was pretty much undesirable to him. “There is something though…”
“Can’t you take a hint?” Negan growled, his voice getting raspy as he continued to speak. “What does it take to get through that thick skull of yours that I’m not fucking interested? I never was. I never will be and there is nothing you can do to change that. If you want me to fuck you, get over here and bend over the desk and I’ll fuck you if it makes you feel better.”
Gradually Negan pulled apart his belt and opened up his pants, “If it makes you stop bothering me and my men, I’m willing to do it. To leave you on a fucking high since you’re pretty much obsessed with me. You can think of it as a gift from me. Otherwise…piss off.”
“Wow,” she let out a shocked sound when Negan pulled his jacket from his shoulders and tossed it to the couch that was in the corner of his office. Negan unzipped his pants and pushed them down his hips making her let out a disgusted breath. “Do you really think I’m that pathetic that I would want to fuck you after everything you just said to me?”
There was a long silence between them. A smirk pressed in over Negan’s features and his right eyebrow arched up, “Yes? Yes, I do.”
“Being in charge really changed you, didn’t it? You’re not the person that saved me. That was a good man. The man you are now…” she felt her heart hammering inside of her chest with how angry she was at Negan.
“You have no idea the man I was. I was lonely and would have saved anyone at the time to make sure that I had someone with me. Fuck girl. You knew from the start that I had a thing for Sherry. You were just a pussy for me until I got what I really wanted,” Negan looked down toward his body and he grabbed a firm hold of his member. “I bet I was the last person to fuck you, right?”
Her eyes lowered down toward the ground and he could see her hand sliding in over her abdomen making him snort, “Listen, I’m doing you a favor here while also doing one for myself if this makes you finally leave me alone. Get over here and bend over that desk.”
“I think we’re done here,” he could see that she was still upset with him and her jaw tightened as she spoke. “I’m sorry for wasting your time tonight.”
“You’re fucking joking,” Negan scoffed when she went to head for the door and he reached for his pants to pull them back up over his hips. “You come in here telling me that you were hoping that I would make you one of my wives. Looking at me with those doe eyes hoping that I fucking loved you and you’re just going to walk away?”
“Yes,” she simply answered and an angered sound fell from Negan’s throat as he zipped his pants back up before he pulled them together. “I may be pathetic, but I’m not that pathetic.”
“You know I notice you’re getting a little swelled,” Negan muttered as she reached for the doorknob and she stopped in her tracks when he said that. “It’s making me think you have too much food available to you. Maybe you could stand to go on the points system for a little bit so you can get back to your previous look. My saviors should be fit, not getting fat. It gives the wrong look.”
The door pushed open and Y/N felt her blood boiling when Negan moved back toward his desk to sit down.
“You know that’s the whole reason I came here,” she started and Simon moved in behind her, but Negan was done with her as he waved his hand in the air.
“We’re done here,” Negan scoffed making her let out a tense breath when Simon grabbed her to pull her away from the door. “Simon, make sure that it’s made known that Y/N is now going to be working for points. Start her on level one.”
“What?” she snapped seeing Negan lifting his eyes at her, “that’s what someone makes when they first get here and are on probation. I’ve been here since the beginning and I need supplies Negan, you don’t understand.”
“Get her out of here,” Negan demanded and Simon grabbed her before she could say another word, slamming the door shut before she could bicker with Negan anymore.
Once Simon got her away from the door, she started to head for the steps and Simon followed her. When she went to head for the door that went to the outside he grabbed a tight hold of her to stop her, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I need some air or I’m going to explode. Did me getting demoted make it so I can’t go outside anymore?” she snapped and Simon grunted as she walked outside. Following her out, Simon stood at the stairs and she was pissed that he was watching her. “Why are you following me?”
“People do stupid things when they are angry,” Simon answered and he heard the sound of commotion inside the building. A frustrated sound fell from his throat and he threw his finger up in the air. “You better stay right there.”
“Where am I going to go?” she threw her hands up in the air and could see that Simon was contemplating not going back in, but he did.
It wasn’t actually until Simon said that to her that she was considering leaving. There had to be a place better than this. Somewhere that she would be able to survive without having to deal with the past of the hurt that she would always be reminded of here. Everything that was important to her, she had in her pockets. Everything else she would certainly be caught trying to escape with them if she decided to leave after grabbing her things from her room, so she left them. Surveying the area, she made sure that that the saviors were looking elsewhere when she managed to climb up over the gates surrounding The Sanctuary. She had to be careful not to hurt herself on the barbed wire, but still had managed to knick herself when she went over. Cussing to herself, she ran as fast as she could toward the wooded area to attempt to get out of sight. If someone caught her sneaking out, she knew it wouldn’t be good. She had heard rumors, but she just wanted to be gone and away from Negan. When she had finally made it into the wooded area, she ripped a part of her jacket to tie it around the area she cut from escaping. Doing her best to make it through the darkness, she relied on the moon to move through the woods to the best of her ability. All she had was a knife and she realized how stupid at this point it was for her to actually escape. Back at The Sanctuary she had a room, but being stuck with Negan just felt wrong.
All night she walked and by morning she had found a tree to sit down by to get some rest. There was a sense of regret that had flooded through her because she didn’t know what she was going to do. She had responsibilities and not being able to find any other civilization made her nervous. And she knew how people were.
“Where the fuck could she have gone?” Simon’s voice boomed and she scrambled to hide herself in one of the bushes. “Negan is going to fucking cut my balls off if I don’t find her.”
“You shouldn’t have taken your eyes off of her,” Dwight’s voice responded with a snort. “You knew better than to leave an emotional woman alone.”
“Things were happening and we just need to find her. If we don’t come back with her after he ordered us to find her, I’m dead,” Simon groaned and she could feel herself shaking. “I’m going to kill this bitch when we get her back to The Sanctuary myself for causing me so much fucking trouble. I can’t wait to put her on the damn fence with all the others…”
A flood of panic rushed through Y/N when she realized what happened to those that escaped from The Sanctuary when they were caught. The sound of Dwight snorting was heard and she attempted to stay exceedingly still, “Negan doesn’t do that to women.”
“I think this woman would be an exception, she had him fucking pissed off last night,” Simon retorted surveying the area and he let out a frustrated sound. “Do you remember when we were just that small group? I swore the two of them were together, but…”
“Does it matter?” Dwight snorted and Simon groaned. The sound of something rattling was heard and she noticed that her canteen had slid out. “What was that?”
Simon started walking down the hill toward her and she cringed knowing that in no time he would find her. Wincing, she waited until the sound of something else drew Simon to look over his shoulder and he started heading the other way. Sliding out from the brushes, she went to leave only to feel someone grab her by the shoulder. A pair of blue eyes were locked on hers and she felt her heart pounding inside of her chest. The curly, short haired man motioned for her to be quiet and she realized he must have been the one to make the noise to get Simon away. Following the man through the woods, she stayed quiet until they showed up at the gates of a place called Alexandria.
“What is this?” she muttered and the man looked to her with an arched brow. “Who are you?”
“My name is Aaron,” he placed his hand over the center of his chest and he looked back toward the walls that surrounded the town that was inside. “How many walkers have you killed?”
“I lost count at this point,” she was honest knowing that she had gone through so much in the short amount of time.
“How many people have you killed?” Aaron poked and she let out a shuddering breath before shaking her head.
“None,” she was honest and swallowed down hard knowing that it likely made her look pathetic since she wasn’t much of a fighter. “Why?”
“Then welcome to our community,” Aaron whistled and someone opened the doors allowing her in.
After that moment she had become part of the community of Alexandria. Thankfully she had been able to avoid Negan when he had found Alexandria and things were great until they had Negan prisoned in Alexandria after they had captured Negan. She worked so hard to avoid seeing Negan, but when they ordered her to take him his food one day; she knew that she had no choice because everyone else was busy.
Muttering to herself over and over, she told herself that it would be fine. It had been too long. Negan wouldn’t even know who she was. It had been years. All she had to do was give him his food and leave. She repeated that like a mantra. Once she headed down the stairs, she could see Negan slouched over on his cot. The look of him was nothing like she was used to with his long beard and his hair that had been cut to a mess. Someone at Alexandria likely had done that haircut for him in a rush without a care if they were nicking Negan’s flesh.
Keeping her head low, she put the tray of food on the ground for Negan before his cell. Negan lifted his head and she hoped that he just wouldn’t notice her. Attempting to turn on her heel, she heard the sound of his breathing change, “Y/N?”
Immediately regretting her decision not to throw this task off on someone else, she watched Negan slowly get up from the cot and move to the bars. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Negan’s long, slender fingers wrapping around the bars and he let out a desperate sound when his eyes met hers, “God, it is you. I thought you were dead.”
“Nope, I’m alive,” she simply stated and Negan’s eyes were big. There were multiple cuts and bruises on Negan’s face and she had a hard time looking at him. “So are you.”
“I don’t know for how much longer,” Negan stammered, his eyebrows arched and it was clear that he was full of remorse. Negan had gotten much skinnier than what she was used to and remembered. Instead of sticking around, she knew it would be for the best if she left.
“You should eat,” she attempted to leave, but Negan reached through the bars and grabbed a tight hold of her wrist to get her to stop from leaving.
“You have to help me,” Negan pleaded, his eyes hooked on hers and he could see the uncomfortable look over her face. “Please. I can’t keep living like this. They beat on me. No one talks to me. No one should have to live like this. Please help me.”
“I don’t think I could,” she explained seeing that Negan’s eyes were full of hope after he had realized he knew her.
“Come on, we were friends,” Negan clutched to the bars, his eyes pleading with her. Offering up a weak smile, he attempted to reach out again to grasp at her fingers, but she pulled away from him. “You have to feel some kind of connection to me, right? I was the guy to take your virginity. Remember? We had something special. The two of us had a bond when this whole thing started. You were in love with me. I can’t live like this Y/N. Please help me.”  
There was a silence that filled the air around them and suddenly she was having flashes of the last time that Negan had spoken with her in his office. The way he belittled her and down talked her still resonated deeply with her and she still remembered those words he told her. It left her bitter and angry toward him.  
“Funny how that’s your story now that you have nothing and no one,” she bit at her bottom lip watching the hopeful expression slowly leaving Negan’s eyes. “You fucked me because I was just there. You were desperate. We didn’t have a bond. We didn’t have something special. Do these words stick with you Negan?”
“I was being an asshole that day because I was still mad at you for abandoning me. I thought you were my best friend and you got pissed at me. I realize that I should have been more caring about your feelings when you were telling me how you felt, but at the time when we were together I just thought we were friends that were sleeping together,” Negan attempted to explain with a grunt, his eyes still desperate for her to help him. “All I wanted was Sherry at that point and then when you abandoned me for getting the one thing I wanted. I just got so angry at you that I was treating you like shit, but after thinking about it…after losing you I knew the way I treated you was wrong.”
“You didn’t lose me because you didn’t want me in the first place,” she corrected him and Negan frowned when she said that.
“I didn’t think that you were in love with me, but after that day you told me how you felt, I thought back on it and I realize you were right that there was something special between the two of us,” Negan assured her and attempted to reach for her fingers to squeeze at them. “I didn’t mean what I said Y/N. I didn’t realize you were going to run away from me. I’m sorry for what I said. My relationship with you was very important to me. I love you. I can tell by the way you look at me that you still love me too.”
This was everything she had ever wanted to hear from him in the past. This was kind of what she had hoped for when she talked to him at The Sanctuary, but she knew the kind of manipulator Negan had become. He was the master of it.
“That’s where you’re wrong Negan,” she looked down toward his fingers that were hooked with hers and she shook her head slowly. Pulling her hand from his she stepped back toward the door to his cell and shrugged her shoulders. “You’re just not my type.”
“Y/N?” Negan called out her name as she headed for the door leaving him with what he had said to her back then. When she closed the door to his cell she could hear him screaming her name and the word please afterwards. It sound like he was sobbing, but she didn’t care. Not after all he had put her through during those few months at The Sanctuary.
Everything was fine for years after that. They never pushed her to have to see Negan again and she lived life the best possible way she could. Six years had passed and Y/N had found herself coming home late after working all day. Moving upstairs toward her room, she checked on something before heading toward her room. When she pushed open the door, a gasp fell from her lips when she saw Negan standing in her bedroom at her dresser. There was something he was holding in his fingertips and when his eyes met hers, she could see the anger that was there.
Turning the Polaroid that he had in his fingers, she could see that it was the photo that Negan had taken of them on her birthday that he had given her. It was something that she had kept on the mirror of her dresser to remind her of a day when she felt happy and hopeful about her future. Negan lifted his other hand and showed that he had the keychain he had given her that he had originally thrown in the dirt wrapped around his middle finger.
“I’m just not your type, huh?” Negan dropped what he was holding and swiftly moved forward to reach for her. She attempted to move, but he grabbed a tight hold of her and wrapped his arms around her from behind so she couldn’t escape. “You’re so fucking full of shit. I fucking hurt your feelings and you let me rot in that cell for six years because of it. When this whole fucking time you were still fucking in love with me.”
“Negan,” she whimpered feeling his hand wrapping around her mouth to keep her quiet. The way she struggled and he fought her back made her panic. How had Negan escaped his cell? Her eyes met Negan’s in the mirror of her dresser set. With his buzzed hair and the angry way his eyebrows were arched, he looked like a completely different man to her.
“I would have never left you to rot like that,” Negan growled against the side of her neck. Before he could do anything further the sound of her bedroom door being pushed open was heard and Negan looked over his shoulder.
“Mom?” a voice filled the air and Negan lifted his eyes to see a young girl standing at the door holding a teddy bear in her arms. The sight of the little girl made Negan let her go and when he did she immediately moved for her daughter. “What’s going on?”
“Mommy’s friend was just playing with her,” she hushed her daughter looking back at Negan who was staring out at them together. There was apprehension in her daughter’s body while she stared out at Negan with big eyes. “Baby, you need to go back to your bedroom, okay? Mommy will come see you in the morning.”
“What’s your name sweetheart?” Negan called out and Y/N shot him a glare. Ignoring it, Negan stepped forward and stared down at the young girl. There was something in the way her bright hazel eyes were staring up at him that made him let out a tense breath.
“Riley,” she answered him and Negan’s eyebrows bounced up. Kneeling down, Negan tilted his head to the side and surveyed over Y/N’s daughter.  
“How old are you sweetheart?” Negan looked between Y/N and Riley. There was an expression that made Y/N uncomfortable as she stepped forward to move in behind Riley to make sure her presence was known between Negan and her daughter.
“Nine,” Riley answered and Negan’s eyes hooked with Y/N’s. Negan reached out to place his hand in over the young girl’s shoulder. There was a new expression over Negan’s features that she couldn’t quite read. “Who are you?”
“My name is Negan. Does that name mean anything to you?” Negan questioned and Riley looked up to Y/N for some kind of confirmation that she should know who Negan was. “Tell me Riley, who is your daddy here?”
“Baby go to your bedroom,” Y/N ordered, interrupting the two of them before Negan could go any further with this discussion. Riley was confused, but she clutched tightly to her bear and nodded. As Riley moved for the door, Negan stood up and Y/N pushed her hands into Negan’s chest to keep him where he was. “I love you sweetheart.”
“I love you too mommy,” Riley whispered and her big eyes looked between Negan and Y/N before leaving the two of them alone.
Once Y/N was sure that Riley was in her room, she turned on her heel to look back at Negan and his face scrunched up in anger, “That’s my fucking daughter. She looks just like me. How could you keep my child from me?”
“Oh no, it could never be your child Negan. Remember? You can’t have babies. You’re infertile,” she reminded Negan seeing the way his jaw locked up when she said that, folding her arms in front of her chest. Negan moved over toward her bed and sat on the corner of the bed. “Fuck you Negan. You told me the first time I slept with you that you were infertile. So we didn’t have to worry about you pulling out.”
“So maybe I didn’t know for sure, but I assumed because we tried for so long and I just knew that it never happened,” Negan admitted, his eyes heavy with regret when he threw his hands up in the air. “Why did you leave The Sanctuary if you were pregnant?”
“I tried to tell you that I was pregnant, but instead you called me fat and then put me on the points system so I wouldn’t be able to take care of myself,” she snapped making Negan release a loud gulping sound. “I ran away in hopes of finding something better because you wouldn’t fucking listen. When I’m hiding in the woods I hear Simon talking about you killing me and putting me on the fence…”
“I wouldn’t have killed you and put you on the fence,” Negan rolled his eyes when he heard her say that and she snorted. “Simon was a fucking idiot. One I killed, but…”
“What do you want Negan? You know if they find out that you escaped the cell, then they are going to kill you,” she informed him, her eyes looking him over seeing that he was still in his prison clothes. “Why are you here?”
“After being locked away for six years, you tend to hold grudges and want answers as to why you leave someone rotting in a cell. Then I come up here and see that you still have that fucking keychain I got you for your birthday and have that photo of the two of us…” Negan growled, his eyes rising to hers and he shook his head slowly. “You loved me still and you let me rot in that cell. Knowing that you had my daughter…”  
“You were bullshitting me Negan. Telling me that you loved me,” she reminded him and Negan gave her a sideways glance. “You didn’t love me. You never loved me.”
“That’s not true, okay? I did love you, but I genuinely just ignorantly thought we were best friends. I didn’t think about what I was doing to you,” Negan responded, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “The more I thought about it, the more obvious it became to me how stupid I actually was. I totally was falling in love with you and then Sherry followed me to that fucking room and I thought about how long I had been pining for her. I wanted her so bad and there she was offering it and I took it. It was wrong. It was awful and I should have told her no. If I would have…I think things would have been so different.”
“Well we can’t turn back time,” she frowned, her eyes looking down toward the ground and she watched Negan stand up from the bed. Slowly, he walked across the room to her and reached out to cup her face in his rough hands. Negan’s eyes were hooked on hers and it seemed like he was attempting to kiss her, but she turned her head away from him. “Don’t.”
“Y/N, I think this is a sign that we should be together. I’ve always wanted a child. I know I feel special feelings toward you and I know you feel the same,” Negan reasoned with her and he could see that her eyes were tearing over while she stared out at him. “Maybe we deserve the chance to start over. The three of us.”
“She deserves better than you,” Y/N muttered and Negan released a hurt sound when she was obviously talking about Riley, “And so do I. I would love to pretend that nothing happened, but the people here would tell Riley. They would let her know who her father was and what he did. And I’ll always remember the things you said to me.”
“I’m leaving. We should all get out of here,” Negan suggested, reaching for her hands to give them a firm squeeze. “I know what I did and I’m sorry, but you have to understand…”
“I get why you did it Negan, I just…I can’t,” her bottom lip quivered and Negan could feel his chest aching as she stood before him. “Of course I’ll always love you, but I have to think about Riley and what’s best for her. And that’s not you.”
“Well…damn,” Negan responded, absolutely gutted with what she was saying. Stepping back, he brushed his hand over his head and then tossed his hands up in the air. “I guess this is goodbye then.”
“Where are you going?” she inquired as he moved toward the door to leave and he stopped to look over his shoulder at her.
“I thought about looking at The Sanctuary. See how things are there,” Negan pushed his hands into his pockets and he looked down toward the ground. When she nodded, Negan attempted to leave before stopping again. “What would make you change your mind about me? What could I do that would make you give me a chance?”
“You’re you Negan, you couldn’t change,” she saw his eyebrows furrow and she shrugged her shoulders. The look Negan gave her showed that he was miserable with what she had said. When he headed to leave again, she called out to him and he looked over his shoulder at her. “I’m sorry. No one should have had to go through what you did those eight years, but I was scared. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” Negan stood there for a moment longer before she watched him walk away and she felt her heart breaking.
More than anything in the past she had wanted Negan to love her and to be with him. But after eight years she knew that it was wrong to want to be with him. Yes, she loved him, but knowing the baggage that follows him, she knew it was best for both her and her daughter if he wasn’t in their lives. When the sound of the front door opening and closing was heard, she let out a sad sound and reached for the photo that Negan had dropped on the floor.
Holding the photograph, she wished that things could go back to the way things were before, but she knew better and she knew that this was the best possible decision she could make. No matter how much it hurt.
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superbadassnatural · 3 years
Text
Mirth Motel
Summary: Y/N desperately needs her beauty sleep. After lots of begging and attempts at the perfect puppy-dog-eyes, she finally convinces Dean to stop at a motel. Square filled: only one bed Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,188 Warnings: mostly fluff I guess, some funny bits, flirting, lots of eye rolls A/N: Surprisingly, I had never written this trope before! I’m not gonna lie, I had fun writing it. This fills my square for @spndeanbingo.
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(x)
“Please,” you pouted, batting your eyelashes. Dean averted his eyes from the road to look at you. “Pretty please.”
“I'm gonna kill Sam for teaching the puppy-dog-eye thing,” he rolled his eyes.
“Is it working? Who does it better?” you wiggled your eyebrows excitedly.
“Sam’s been doing this his whole life; he had years of practice. Of course, he does it better,” he pointed out. “Sam looks like a kicked golden retriever puppy, and you-” he chuckled. “- you look like an angry chihuahua pretending to be sad, so you can go to the dog park and scare all the dogs away.”
“I've always wanted to be a chihuahua.”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” it was your time to roll your eyes. “C’mon, Dean, there's a motel in a few miles. We can crash there. I'm tired. I desperately need my beauty sleep and my feet hurt and I need out of these uncomfortable clothes.”
“Well, my head hurts from hearing you ramble, but I'm not complaining, am I?” he glanced at you, pursing his lips.
“It's late and it's raining. Do you really want to put Baby through this rain? I bet she's cold.”
“Nah, she likes it when it rains. She thinks it's romantic,” his lips pulled up into an asymmetric grin. “If you want to, you can go into the backseat, change into your pjs and get some of your beauty sleep. I promise I won't look while you change. Unless you ask me to.”
“Dean, c’mon.”
“If I pull up at the motel and we crash there for the night, will you stop whining?”
“I'll never whine again for the rest of my life. Cross my heart.”
“Hey, careful there.”
“Please,” you batted your eyelashes. “Do it for me. I know that, deep down in that cold heart of yours, you love me.”
“Okay,” he sighed. “You won.”
“Have I mentioned you are the bestest friend in the world?” you grinned.
“Nope.”
“Well, you are the bestest friend in the world.”
Dean drove for a few more miles. The rain cracked on the hood of the Impala. The sound was relaxing and lulling. The neon sign greeted you, and Dean turned left to head into the parking lot.
“Really? Mirth Motel? What kind of name is that?” he grunted.
“I don’t know, Dean,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “At this point, I couldn't care less about the name of the motel. As long as it has beds and a shower, it's fine by me.”
Dean took a few turns in the parking lot, struggling to find a spot he could park his car.
“Oh for fucks sake, everyone decided to stay here tonight?”
“Stop complaining,” you nearly whined.
“There isn't a single spot where I can park Baby. There better be a room available for us.”
“Stop being so grumpy. There's a space available right there.”
“Where?”
“There!”
“Thanks,” he huffed.
“You're welcome,” you pouted.
Dean parked the car, cutting off the engine. He sighed and glanced at you.
“We’re far away from the entry,” he pointed out. “There's no way to get inside without getting ourselves wet.”
“Fine by me,” you shrugged. “As long as I get to take a shower as soon as I step foot in there, it's okay.”
“Okay.”
You and Dean climbed out of the car quickly with duffle bags over your shoulders. You made a beeline to the entrance of the building, the rain mercilessly pouring down on you. Dean immediately went to the front desk, some of his wet hair stuck to his forehead. You took a few steps back, grabbing your phone and deciding to text Sam to let him know you had made a stop at a motel.
“Two queens, please,” Dean smiled at the old lady behind the counter. She nodded and checked on the system.
“I’m sorry, dear, we don’t have any room available with two queen-sized beds,” she offered him a sympathetic smile. “But we do have a room that will settle you for the night just fine.”
“Okay,” Dean frowned as the woman handed him the keys with a smirk. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome, dear. It's on the second floor. Have fun,” she wiggled her eyebrows.
Dean turned to you with wide eyes. You glanced up from your phone.
“All good?” you asked.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Got it.”
“Great. Shall we?”
Dean gave a short nod and led the way.
“Dude, we’ve been to a lot of crappy motels, but this one takes the cake,” he mumbled as you climbed up the stairs. “Why the hell couldn’t I just park the car and get in a room like every other motel?”
“I don’t know, Dean, but complaining won’t make any difference,” you chided. “And we’re gonna stay here for less than twelve hours. We’re gonna be on the road first thing in the morning, so please, just stop complaining, or I’ll smack your head in the wall.”
“Fine,” he rolled his eyes.
Dean twisted the key in the lock, swinging the door open. He stepped inside, flicking on the lights; you followed suit. Dean sighed and threw his head back with a roll of his eyes. You frowned with a tilt of your head before looking over his shoulder.
“Of course there’s only one bed,” you blew out a breath. “Are we in a movie? ‘Cause now it certainly feels like we’re in a movie.”
Dean placed his bag on the table; you did the same.
“I expected more from a place called Mirth Motel,” he said. “I am certainly feeling mirthless.”
“Very funny, Dean,” you rolled your eyes. “Look, I’m gonna take a shower now, and when I get out, you better not be in a sour mood.”
“Whatever. I’m gonna go get us some burgers. Call me if you need anything.”
“Okay.”
Grabbing the keys, Dean walked out of the room. You picked up everything you needed and headed to the shower. The water pressure wasn’t nearly as good as the one you had in the bunker, but, right now, it was everything you needed.
By the time Dean got back, you were laying on the right side of the bed - knowing he’d rather sleep on the right -, reading your book. He held the paper bag in one hand and two beers in the other.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, placing the food on the table. “The burgers are still warm, but I think the beers might need to go in the fridge for a bit.”
“Want me to wait for you?”
“Nah, there’s no need to.”
“Okay, I’m waiting for you,” you said, and he chuckled. “What? There’s no fun in eating alone.”
“It’s gonna get cold.”
“We microwave it.”
“Right,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
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“Hmm, this delicious,” you nearly moaned, mouthful.
“Yeah, it is,” Dean smiled as he finished his burger, taking a long swig of his beer. “Look, if you want to, I can sleep in the backseat of Baby. I don’t mind. She’s comfy.”
“No, Dean, it’s okay,” you assured him, hand reaching out to his thick forearm. “The bed is big enough for both of us. It’s a king-sized bed, after all. We’d be in trouble if Sam had come with us.”
“Yeah, we would,” he chuckled. “He hogs all the blankets.”
“And all the space. That giant.”
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
“One-hundred percent sure,” you smiled. “Unless you are the one who doesn’t want to sleep with me.”
“Huh? I- uh- of course, I wanna sleep with you,” he stumbled over his words, his voice trembling. You blurt out laughing. “No. I mean- I don’t mind sleeping with you on the same bed. Clothed and all. Not, uh, the other kind of sleeping with you. Like naked and, uh- yeah, not that.”
“Easy, tiger. No need to get all flustered,” you chuckled. The point of his ears turned pink as his cheeks blushed. He took a long gulp of his beer. “For the record, I wouldn’t mind sleeping with you. I mean, the other kind of sleeping with you. Like naked and all. I wouldn’t mind in the slightest.”
His wide green eyes lifted at you before averting your face again. Dean cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.
“Would you?” you asked.
“Would I what?”
“Mind sleeping with me butt-naked.”
“Oh. No, of course not,” he stammered, shaking his head nervously. “Not even a bit.”
“Good,” you nodded. “It’s good to know we’re on the same page.”
“Yeah. Yeah, uh- I’m gonna go to sleep then,” he announced, awkwardly standing to his feet. “I’m tired.”
“Okay, you do that. I’ll be right after you.”
“Okay, good. Great.”
Dean locked himself in the bathroom, doing who knows what. You chuckled to yourself with a shake of your head. You loved making him feel embarrassed. Dean would get all cute whenever he felt uncomfortable. His eyes would widen, and he would lose every ability to talk. When his cheeks turned into a bright pink along with the tip of his ears, then everything was chaotic. It was nice to make him blush.
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You laid on your back. The mattress wasn’t that comfortable. You didn’t expect it to be memory foam, but you hoped it would be a little comfier than it actually was. Your eyes were glued on the ceiling, your hands over your stomach as your finger tapped the back of your right one. An awkward silence filled the atmosphere as Dean, too, laid on his back without saying a word. His green eyes stared up as he chewed on his lip.
“Penny for your thoughts?” you said quietly, glancing at him.
“The ceiling is moving.”
“What?” you looked up with wide eyes. The ceiling was perfectly still.“Are you high?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure I've been staring at it for too long, and now it’s moving.”
“You’re so weird.”
“Thanks, you too,” Dean turned on his side, glancing at you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that shirt.”
“My shirt?” you bit your lip to keep yourself from bursting into laughter.
“No, my shirt. You stole it.”
“You don’t remember, do you? You gave it to me as a birthday present.”
“It isn’t your birthday for the next month and a half.”
“You said it was an early gift,” you said firmly.
“I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I had given it to you,” he said. “But what do I know, right?”
“What do you know,” you licked your lips, turning to him.
“It looks better on you anyway,” he shrugged.
“Yeah, it does.”
Dean’s gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there for a moment, then backed up to your eyes. You drew a sharp intake of breath. His emerald green orbs seemed to unravel all the mysteries of your soul. You swallowed thick, avoiding his gaze. Slowly, Dean’s hand reached to yours under the blankets, his thumb caressed your skin. You looked up at him, his eyes locked in yours. As a way to avoid the growing tension between the two of you, you gave him a playful smirk and placed your feet on his legs.
“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling away; his hand didn’t let go, though. “Why are your feet so cold?”
“I don’t know,” you smiled innocently “You’re always hot, so now you’re gonna warm my feet since the blanket isn’t doing its job.”
“Jesus, it’s like the feet of a corpse.”
“Hey!” you smacked his shoulder. “Don’t say that.”
“Well, maybe if you wore some pants instead of shorts and actually put on some socks, your feet wouldn't be this cold.”
“You’re not fun, ” you pouted.
“If I had my feet against your shins, you wouldn't be too happy about it either.”
“Just admit you love having me this close to you,” you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.
“G’night, Y/N,” he turned his back on you.
“My feet are still cold,” you whined. “What should I do?”
“I don’t know. Use my calves maybe. Just don’t put those dead feet on my back.”
“Can I put them on your ass? I bet it would get them warm pretty quick.”
“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbled, you could almost hear his eyes rolling.
“Is that a yes or a no?” you insisted.
“That’s a no. Now shut it and go to sleep.”
“Fine,” you huffed. “Good night, Dean.”
Eventually, your feet got warm, and you pulled away from Dean. Some time, in the middle of the night, he found your back turned to him and decided to snuggle closer. His strong arm draped over your waist, knees tucked behind yours. Dean was laying on his back when the sun rose, and you rested your head on his chest, his arms once again securing you close. Of course, none of you would talk about waking up in each other's arms for the next four hours you’d be in the car. Perhaps you would only mention it once you were back at the bunker, forced to face what was said and done at the Mirth Motel.
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What do you think of this one? Consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog, or ask!
Hunters: @hobby27​ @thewinchesterandreidwhore @tatted-trina6​ @doozywoozy​ @mogaruke​ @babypink224221​ @leah-winchester​
Dean’s Sweethearts: @maya-craziness​ @akshi8278​ @miss-here-to-stay​ @witch-of-letters​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ @danneelsmain​ @mrspeacem1nusone​  @percywinchester27​
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ultralovedeluxe · 3 years
Text
Yandere! Jotaro Kujo with prompts #25 and #31
Hey everyone this was requested by  @mirroredmovements. I struggled with which Jotaro you meant, but I ended up settling with Stardust Jotaro (I hope that’s okay!). I also added an additional prompt, just for fun ^^
‘Why won’t you talk to me anymore?’
‘You’re the only one who understands me’
Warnings: 18 year old Jotaro, kind of au?, yandere behavior, mentions of violence, implied nsfw.
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   The definition of loneliness is the state of being alone, and feeling sad about it.
   However, why is Kujo Jotaro experiencing this emotion of all people? He has nothing to be upset about. He’s financially stable, has a caring mother, and most importantly he does have friends (although only one of them is closer to his age range). So why is he feeling this way?
 He could always try to make new friends, but he’s already feared amongst his school (and the fact he dislikes people isn’t helping much either). He couldn’t meet new people, even if he wanted to. The male students would probably only want to be friends with him because of his status, and the females, well they already annoy him as fan-girls, having them as friends would be worse.
 That is, until Kakyoin introduces you to him.
--
   “Good afternoon Jotaro, how was class?” the fellow red-headed stand user asked. “I didn’t go to class today..” the taller male replied, his eyes going directly towards the person next to Kakyoin. He’d never seen you around before, were you a new student or something, because if you were he didn’t have time to show you around. Kakyoin sighed, “I thought we talked about this before Jotaro, it’s important for you to go to class and..”, Kakyoin noticed Jotaro staring at you; and to be completely honest his stare was starting to freak you out a bit. Kakyoin coughed and placed a hand on your shoulder, “Jotaro this is [first]-chan, I met her in art class a few weeks ago, and I wanted you two to meet”.
  “Nice to meet you Kujo-san, I hope we become good friends” you smiled, sticking your hand out to greet him. Jotaro stared at you for a bit and then looked at your hand, “Nice to meet you too I guess..” he said walking away from the two of you without looking back. He trusted Kakyoin’s judgement of people, but at the moment he didn’t want to waste his time here. 
  “I think that went well, usually he doesn’t even greet the other person at all..” Kakyoin whispered as he began to walk the opposite direction. You began to follow him, “I guess. Do you think I made a good first impression? He doesn’t look like he likes people very much..” you admitted while giving your hands a firm squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you two will get along..”
--
 Jotaro didn’t expect to become friends with you, let alone be good friends with you. When he first met you, he found you to be kind of annoying. He didn’t want to waste his time with you. Just because you were a friend of Kakyoin’s, didn’t mean he considered you a friend. But for some reason, he found himself growing attached to you. It was odd for him to be open with his feelings about things, but whenever he was with you it never felt that way. Whenever he’d talk with you or open up about things, you would just look at him and listen, without judging him at all. 
 You occasionally gave him advice, but most of the time you’d listen to what he had to say. From his thoughts about becoming a marine biologist one day, and anything really, you’d be there to listen.
 This warmed Jotaro’s heart to the core, and he found himself falling for you. He really didn’t expect it, but he welcomed this feeling regardless. He’d tell you eventually, but now was not the time.
“Jotaro-kun!"
 Even your voice had become music to Jotaro’s ears. He always prefered hanging out with quiet people, however you became an exeption. He began to look forward to hearing your voice. 
 Jotaro hummed in response, looking over to see your face. You gave him a small smile in return, “Look what I brought you! I remember you said you didn’t have any marine biology books at home, so I went to buy you one!” you grinned handing the tall male the book. Jotaro took the book and lowered his hat to cover the smile forming on his face. “Yare yare [first], you didn’t have to, I could’ve just gone to the library”
 “But I wanted to! Besides, checking out a book isn’t the same as owning one now is it?” you replied, sitting down on the grass to take a small break. Jotaro huffed, “Jeez woman, it seems you’re the only one who gets me. You understand me y’know?”. You only smiled back and lightly punched his shoulder, “Wow Jojo, you’re really sweet. Didn’t think I’d hear those words from you..”
 That was the first time you had used his nickname. Jotaro would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a chill go up his spine (in a good way of course). Unfortunately, these warm, fuzzy feeling vanished too soon.
 “Ah Jojo, do you know what time is it?” you asked, almost frantacally so. The taller male wondered how you manged to freak out so suddently, “It should be around 4:30..”
 “4:30? I’m late for my date! I hope he’s still waiting for me..” you said packing your bags in a hurry, ignoring Jotaro’s precense. “You’re going on a date? Who’s the lucky man?” Jotaro asked, trying his best not to just storm off in rage and jealousy. You just looked up at him, so innocently, like nothing you had said hurt him in the slightest, “Yeah a date with Ishii Yuuto. I haven’t met him, but he is really cute..Wish me luck Jojo-kun!” and with that you had already left.  A date? You had a date? With someone who wasn’t him? Someone had already captured your heart and asked you out? He wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to support you, just like how you are supportive of him. But he can’t, and the feeling is eating him from the inside. 
 It could’ve been you and him on that date. But maybe, just maybe, he could still go on a date with you after all. And he felt more of his patience chip away..
--
 The small cafe your classmate chose was adorable and pleasing to see. The warm colors greeted you nicely, and you had heard from a friend that this cafe serves some of the best sweets in Japan. Although you had never met Yuuto, you were exited that someone had invited you to a place like this, let alone being invited to a nice place by someone you found attractive. Then again, it seemed like it was too good to be true. You had been in a rush all day. You managed to go to a book store and buy a book for Jotaro, go back to school to meet Jotaro, and then go to this cafe. But your date didn’t seem to even be here. 
 “Great. This is fine” you mumbled to yourself as you paid for your drink. How upsetting, you actually thought Yuuto was a nice guy, guess he turned out to be the comeplete opposite of what you originally thought. 
 Walking out of the cute atmosphere from the cafe, you were met with an unfortunate sight. Not far from the cafe, was Jotaro standing over from what seemed to be Yuuto, but he was covered in bruises. You let out a small whimper, but quickly covered your mouth. Once Jotaro’s eyes met yours, you couldn’t stand being in his sight no longer. You started to run home, it wasn’t that far anyway, your parents were most likely home, you would be safe and sound; you just needed to run a little faster.
 ‘Was that really Jotaro?’ you thought finally reaching your home in time. There was no doubt about it. That man that stood above Yuuto was indeed Jotaro. You just wished this was all a dream, that it wasn’t true, but there was no denying what you saw was true.
.
.
.
 Jotaro watched you run, letting out a small ‘tch’ while kicking the unconscious body of Yuuto. He didn’t kill him (but he was on the verge of), he just injured him a bit, that’s all. Deep down, Jotaro was dissapointed in himself, but at the same time, he only did this because he cares for you right? 
 At least that’s what he’s telling himself.
--
 “[first]-chan did you hear about Ishii-san yesterday?” your classmate asked you. You avoided eye contact with her, “No. I don’t know what happend at all” you replied, trying not bring tears to your eyes. “I heard from the police officers that he was found beat up not far from where you were supposed to meet him. They said he is going to be in the hospital for a month. Did you see anything?” she asked, clearly asking questions that were getting more personal by the second. Images of Yuuto’s bruised body ran thorugh your mind, “I didn’t see anything. I just went home and that’s it. I have to go”.
 You walked out of your classroom and began to walk to a bathroom nearby. These thoughts were going to haunt you, and you tried to get rid of them, you’re really trying. But you’re starting to get convinced that won’t happen, because just a few seconds into your walk, Jotaro was walking behind you. ‘No..no he’s not supposed to be here anyway! Just keep calm and keep walking you’re almost there’ you thought, but you started walking faster. Jotaro noticed this and caught up with you real quick.
 “Yare yare why do you keep running? Why won’t you talk to me anymore?” Jotaro asked you, as if he didn’t know what he had done; making it seem like you were the crazy one. You walked farther, but Jotaro just kept catching up with you. This time however, he held your hands behind your back. You hissed in pain, you always knew he was strong, but never in your life did you think he’d lay a hand on you. 
 “Please let me go..” you said, trying your best not to let your voice crack out of pressure. You felt Jotaro kiss your cheek lightly. And you let him. You let him because you actually couldn’t move. You felt like there was something holding you against your will. You let Jotaro explore your body for a few minutes, and you felt awful. Someone you once saw as a friend, was fondling with your breasts along with kissing your neck with and ever loving passion. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, hell you just wanted to run away from Jotaro’s grasp. Those arms that were once so comforting, were starting to sufficate you. 
 Jotaro had been using Star Platinum to hold you together. He didn’t want you to leave so soon, after all he finally had you in his grasp he had no reason to let you go. 
 Not satisfied with what he had done to you, Jotaro dragged you towards a bathroom and shoved you towards a stall. He removed that stupid hat he always wore and pinned you towards the stall, while unbuckling his pants. 
.
.
.
 The definition of of lonliness is the state of being alone, and feeling sad about it. Kujo Jotaro had experienced this emotion right before meeting you. Now the feeling he is experiencing is love. However, that ‘love’ soon became a frightening obssesion. 
 And you can only watch him go through it. 
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renaerys · 3 years
Text
PPG One-Shot: Spelling Bee (Brick/Blossom)
Happy birthday to @genovah​! She is always inspiring me to come up with more PPG content, a true hero. I’m back with another entry in the ongoing Shooketh, Not Stirred high school AU Reds series for your entertainment. As always, this can be read alone, but it happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. This is also posted on my AO3.
Summary: Brick and Blossom hunker down in the library to study for the upcoming regional spelling bee.
***Reblogs are extremely appreciated, since this probably won’t show up in the tags due to cursing. Thank you! <3
xxx
In fairness, Brick had come to the library during his free period with the pure intention to learn. And he was certainly learning something. But somewhere between sliding into his seat opposite Blossom and watching her lips move around insouciant as if it were a strawberry slathered in ganache, his purity was torn from his weak, teenage boy fingers and there was absolutely no going back. 
“Brick, are you listening to me?” She touched his hand across the table. 
“Yup.”
“Did you need me to repeat the word?”
“Yup.”
“In-SOO-see-uhnt.” She sounded it out slowly, and hand to god, that dominating SOO went straight to his cock.
This, of course, was fine. 
“Origin?” he asked. 
She twirled her hair around her finger and puckered her lips. “French.”
Fuck.
“I…”
Blossom mistook his increasingly horny stupor for plain old stupor and sighed. “Are you even trying? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely fine with Darla Dimpleton going to regionals instead of one of us.”
“I am not fine with that.”
Darla Dimpleton was an unassuming, unthreatening nobody with the personality of plain oatmeal. Brick would never have even bothered to learn her name had she not committed the cardinal sin of scoring so much extra credit while everyone else was busy having lives that she stole the number one GPA right from under him. Which meant she stole it from under Blossom too. Which meant Brick was no longer a respectable silver medal to Blossom’s gold, but currently ranked third and therefor merely happy to be on the podium at all (and for the record, no one has ever been happy merely to be on the podium, just like no one has ever been happy winning Most Improved: you sucked, and now you suck a little less. Except this time, you actually suck more because Darla fucking Dimpleton decided to Quaker Oats her way to the top of this rat race that doesn’t actually matter, but it’s the principle of the thing, i.e., the only thing that matters.). 
All of this to say, Darla Dimpleton was the Worst™ and she was one hundred percent going down. 
“Are you sure? Because you’re being awfully cavalier about this. Some might even call you insouciant.”
It was a testament to Brick’s powerful fondness for winning and being seen doing it that he spelled insouciant in one Darla Dimpleton-shaped cock blocking breath.
Blossom smiled like she knew something. “Much better.”  
Yeah, she knows a lot of things.
The problem with dating, Brick was convinced, was that suddenly the mundane became extraordinary. Everyday experiences that he had previously taken for granted—flying around Townsville, enjoying a cup of coffee, thwarting his sometimes murderous demonic overlord from distributing incriminating polaroids, that sort of thing—were suddenly exciting, thrilling even. Because now he got to do those things with Blossom, and Blossom was cool in a smarmy, elitist sort of way that both softened his heart and hardened his dick all at the same time, and that was kind of A Lot to deal with at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.
“All right, do me,” Blossom said, and Brick coughed so badly his aforementioned weak, teenage boy fingers shook to stifle himself. 
Mercy, he thought, probably. But all his blood was rushing south and it was going to take a supernatural willpower to get through these words so that one of them could beat the upstart porridge peasant to this year’s regional spelling bee. 
“You’re the boss,” he said, because it was true, and also because he liked the way she looked at him when he said it. Like he was now the ganache-coated strawberry in this overextended metaphor that he was too laden with Homeric concupiscence being in her general proximity to unpack. 
Concupiscence, there’s a ten dollar word for you, you horny genius. 
He made a mental note to brag to Blossom about this later. 
“Okay, let’s see…” Brick made a show of organizing the flashcards so that she wouldn’t see him discreetly re-situate his pants under the table. “Your word is cymotrichous.”
Blossom tapped her lips, and Brick found himself sympathizing with the Puritans in their absolute befuddlement over the libidinous effect of women having lips. Witchcraft, surely. “Could you use it in a sentence for me?”
Compelled entirely by black magic and therefor not responsible for his imminently questionable choices, Brick obliged her with: “Thinking about how I’d rather run my fingers through your cymotrichous hair for the rest of free period instead of sit here spelling words no one’s ever heard of.”
Blossom, who he was dead certain was extremely thirsty for him and had been for years long before they ever reconciled their rivalry, leaned over the desk separating them. Her hair, long and loose and indeed quite wavy today, was tempting. “Brick, are you flirting with me?”
It was a well-known fact of being a Weak-Fingered, Teenage Boy that one must never reveal such weakness, especially not in front of one’s girlfriend. On the other hand, co-opting said weakness and rebranding it as the suave truth was galaxy brain levels of flirting. And Brick, as has already been established, was a horny genius. “Yup.” He leaned in to meet her, and he twirled her hair between his fingers because they were weak for her, indeed. “How am I doing?”
Blossom, too determined to let her thirst deter her from her goal of sweet, academic retribution and bragging rights, tapped a finger to his lips. “Great. But we have so many words to spell, and only thirty minutes left to do them all. So get shuffling, stud.”
Well, he could work with that. One thing that made his relationship with Blossom work very well was their insatiable competitiveness. Whether they were whaling on each other over an empty parking lot, debating the efficacy of post-its as a note-taking device, or combining their powers to Captain Planet a cornmeal know-it-all back down the leaderboard where she belonged, they were relentless glory chasers. And the greater the challenge, the more they enjoyed the experience and each other. 
Blossom spelled her word perfectly, by the way. She stretched out the o-u-s at the end in a bewitching little whisper as she pulled away and her hair slipped through his fingers. That moment when the light changes and the temperature shifts and you’re weightless in a state of existential anticipation of something monumental about to happen, but not quite? That happened. Thirty minutes to explore the shape of that anticipation was enough time to taste it but not enough to savor it. Which, Brick supposed, was about to make this the best thirty minutes he was likely going to get all week. 
“Are you ready?” Blossom watched him from behind the card she’d drawn. She had a glint in her eyes that told him she was smiling behind that card. 
“Anytime.”
“Your word is eudaemonic.”
That fucking gorgeous ooh again.
“Define it.”
Blossom flushed as though he had just ordered her to bend over. She bit her lip (it must have been a ten Hail Mary’s kind of day when the Witch-Finder General caught a flesh and blood woman doing that with her improbably sorcerous lips) and grinned. “It means producing happiness. Based on the idea of happiness as the proper end of conduct.”
Producing happiness, which is proper, much like how Blossom came off as proper and even prim around adults, when really she was the most fun, most confident, most person he’d ever met, especially when she was spelling in that chiffon top (son of a bitch, that was a great top on her), and the only conduct he was interested in was of the happiest kind.
“Oh.” His throat clenched, and then his stomach twisted, and then his pants grew little too tight again in a full-body chain reaction that began and ended with a fierce determination not to give in first even though it would mean release because release would be meaningless without this etymological tête-à-tête. 
Don’t think about tête-à-têtes. 
Seventeenth century, noun, borrowed from the French meaning literally “head to head” (please, please stop hurting yourself like this).
“Brick?”
Brick cleared his throat. “Yup. Got it. E-u-d…”
Crisis averted, Brick picked the next card and promptly choked on his own tongue. Blossom made a show like she was concerned and are you all right? and please drink some water. Brick drank her water, which of course she had had her anatomically heretical lips on earlier, which was just fantastic for him. Tuesday fucking morning. 
Milieu was her word. 
“Milieu, hmm.” Blossom’s smile was spellbinding, which was a pun because he punned when he panicked. “Origin?”
You bitch, he thought, and be cool, and also, witchcraft.
Brick leaned back in his chair, slipped his trembling hands in his pockets, and squeezed every ounce of anything you can do I can do better into a winsome grin. “French.”
Blossom’s adult-facing façade cracked like an egg, and he got a glimpse of the raw delight she felt for this game, for the words, and for him for making it happen. For cultivating the electric milieu, if you will, currently driving them both into a state of impassioned, competitive euphoria at 9:42 a.m. in the library. 
“Right, um…” She stumbled over her words, and Brick had to restrain himself from crowing for joy and risk the rheumy-eyed librarian coming to scold them. 
By the time they got through another set of words, they were each visibly frustrated and doubly turned on by the other’s masochistic resolve not to throw in the towel. 
“Okay, ready for another round?” 
She wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions now, and that was just fine with Brick. “Of course.”
One more.
If it was another French word, he was fucking done. 
“Really?” Blossom truly had ice in her veins for the way she was able to school her face then. He couldn’t read her, and that was very bad. 
If it’s another fucking French word…
He could be over the desk and on her faster than you could say concupiscence. 
“Okay.” Blossom set down the flashcard she’d drawn and folded her hands on the table. She looked him dead in the eye licked her lips. “Succedaneum.”
The bookshelf shook but Brick’s fingers didn’t as they pinned Blossom’s over a Dewey Decimal-stamped spine and he kissed her with all the horny passion of a teenage genius who would make a note to thank the devil for giving women lips. One of his better ideas. 
xxx
“Hey, has anyone seen Blossom? I’ve sent her, like, four texts!” Bubbles shoved her phone, open to the ignored texts in question, in her sister’s face. “She was supposed to help me with Chem homework.”
Buttercup ducked. “No, and watch where you’re swinging that thing.”
“I saw her earlier,” Boomer said. “She was with Brick coming out of first period.”
“Oh, yeah.” Mike slung his arm around Boomer’s shoulders. “Don’t they both have a free period right now?”
Buttercup rolled her eyes. “What a scam. Whoever decided to give the A-students free periods while the rest of us mere mortals gotta slave away is a straight-up Supervillain.”
Boomer snapped his fingers. “Hey, I just remembered! They both decided to compete for the spot at the regional spelling bee this year. I bet that’s what they’re doing.”
“God, that’s the saddest thing I have ever heard in my life. That’s a new low even for Blossom.”
“I heard there’s a cash prize for the regional winner,” Bubbles said. “It’s like twenty thousand bucks! Remember, everyone in school signed up and we had to have that assembly to narrow it down?”
“Twenty thou— How the tits did I miss that?!”
“I mean, it was all over the school,” Mike said. “We signed up too.”
“What? And no one thought to tell me I could’ve won the lottery?”
Boomer chuckled. “Dude, come on. You wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell against Darla Dimpleton.”
“Who?”
Bubbles cast Boomer a not worth it look, and he just sighed. “So, if they’re studying for the spelling bee, do you think they’re in the library?”
At that moment, Butch came bursting down the hall a little too fast to be human. Open lockers rattled on their hinges as he passed, and a Sophomore girl’s binder went flying, scattering looseleaf papers everywhere. Buttercup looked ready to punch him in the dick for breaking the no powers in school rule. “Guys, you’re gonna shit!” 
“Calm down before you blow a load, Jesus Christ.” Buttercup yanked him back down to the floor so he wouldn’t spontaneously float. 
Sensibly, Boomer asked, “Why?”
“‘Cause Brick and Blossom are making out in the library right now!”
Mike cringed. “Oh, come on.”
“The hell they are,” Buttercup said. 
Bubbles smiled. “Good for them.”
“I’m serious! There were books everywhere, and the noise—”
“Oh look, there goes my dignity. Better catch it before it gets away. C’mon, moron.” Buttercup dragged Butch down the hall over his protests. “What were you even doing in the library? I didn’t think you knew where it was…”
“Like that could ever happen,” Mike said. “Those two wouldn’t waste a minute of study time if it means beating out the competition.”
Boomer did not look so convinced. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re officially, for real dating now,”—“Finally!” Mike interjected—“so it’s not that unbelievable.”
The bell for the next period rang. Bubbles groaned thinking of stewing for an hour of Chem. At least she shared that class with Boomer and would not have to suffer alone. They parted from Mike and walked together through the throng of students rushing to get to their next period.
“Hey, do you think…” 
“I mean…” Boomer shrugged. 
They rounded the corner and nearly ran into Blossom dashing to her next class with a rushed “Got your texts talk later bye!” before she disappeared into the crowd. 
Bubbles whirled on Boomer. “Did you see her buttons—”
“Completely uneven—”
The late bell rang and made them jump. Among the last stragglers, they both dashed a bit too fast to get to class and made it to their seats just as Mr. Micelli finished writing a problem on the board. 
Boomer winked when she caught his eye a couple desks away from hers, and it took everything she had not to laugh.
“Good for her,” Bubbles said to herself. 
“You are late,” Mr. Micelli said. 
Everyone turned to watch Brick sink into his seat, his short hair totally askew and looking healthily flushed for a Tuesday morning. 
Boomer burst out laughing and needed a whole minute to calm down. 
He’d tell her later that the detention was worth it.
xxx
Witchcraft! 👁️👄👁️✨
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donutloverxo · 4 years
Text
Make me
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*gif is not mine*
The donut series - Part 8
Note - Idk wtf this is... Lol! Hopefully I can complete this series before the year ends. Just 2 or 3 more parts now.
Thank you so so much to @firefly-graphics for the cute dividers💖💖
Summary - You move into the tower with Steve.
Warnings - 18+ only please, smut (m/f), soft dom Steve, daddy kink, captain kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, spanking, punishments, Steve is pushy and possessive, some angst, (lemme know if I missed any)
Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader
Word count - 5.2k
Series masterlist
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“What do you think you’re doing?!” You jerked when you heard Steve’s voice calling out to you, dropping your lipstick on your lap, your heart hammering in your chest.
You stared at his reflection in the dressing mirror. “God, Steve,” looking over your shoulder you glared at him, “Don’t you think you shouldn’t be sneaking up on me? Especially after everything that happened.”
His face immediately soften, muttering an apology to you, “But you’re not going out today.” He said in a tone that left no room for negotiation.
But you weren’t one of his agents or one to be bossed around. “And you get to tell me what to do, because?” folding your arms over your chest and mimicking his stance.
“Sweetheart, come on, don’t argue with me. It’s still dangerous for you out there.”
“What do you mean? I thought you arrested those guys. Who else would be after me?” you frowned.
He takes two long strides, standing before you and taking your hand in his “Clint has been interrogating them all night. They’ll crack soon enough and give up who they’re working for but we need to be careful till then.”
You sighed, “How long do you think it will be?”
“I don’t know, doll. Hopefully not too long.”
“Well, I can’t just stay locked up forever. Besides a locked door isn’t going to stop Hydra, I mean it didn’t the first time. So really what difference does it make if I’m in college or at home?”
“About that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “how would you feel about moving into the Avengers tower?”
“What?” you blinked. You had heard of the Avengers living and working from the Avengers/Stark tower. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that Steve would possibly live there as well, but for some reason it did. “For how long?”
“Uh, we can give it a try and see how it goes?” he hesitated. He should’ve asked you to move there as soon as you told him you felt unsafe. The whole incident could’ve easily been avoided.
“I mean I wouldn’t mind living there, I think,” you shrugged, “it’s you I’m worried about.”
“What do you mean?” he tilted his head to the side, like a cute little puppy.
You got up from the chair, looping your hands over his neck and playing with the little hair on the nape of his neck, “You’re so cute and clueless, baby,” you cooed.
He huffed at that, puffing out his chest to show you how ‘macho' he is. Completely capable of protecting his girl from big bad guys no matter what.
“I just felt the tower is so unlike you. It’s so...”
Modern--was the word you were looking for, but that seemed too on the nose so you tried to think of a better adjective. You had only ever been to the tower a few times. The first was to make a delivery, when you met Steve for the first time, and then a few times at parties and little get-togethers. It was strange to think that you were part of the Avengers inner circle now, especially if you’re going to be living with them.
“So what?” he wanted to know.
“Just so not you, Stevie. I can’t imagine you living there.”
“We should’ve moved long ago. As soon as you told me about the stalker. I should’ve taken it more seriously.”
“Hey,” you traced his sharp cheekbone, “it’s not your fault. It’s nobody’s fault. Except the ones who did the kidnapping,” you scrunched up your nose, “they’ll get what’s coming to them though, right?”
“Of course, they’ll never hurt you or anyone else ever again,” he promised, kissing the inside of your wrist.
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You kept looking at your watch. A gift from your mum for your high school graduation. It had a vintage feel to it, the thin leather strap making your hand look to delicate, Steve had always said that he liked it the best. He always did like you looking small compared to him.
The elevator dinged, “Exactly four minutes.”
“Hm?” he asked, lacing his fingers with yours as he walked towards ‘his' apartment. Or the apartment that was supposed to be his.
Tony had offered him boarding there when the tower was reconstructed months ago. He thought about it but eventually said no upon seeing just how big the apartment was.
Hell he had a whole floor to himself, which was too extravagant for him. He was used to taking only what he needed, if that.
More than that though...
You caught him looking at you, sparing him a sweet smile that crinkled your sparkling eyes.
More than that he didn’t want to live in such a large space all alone.
He would never share that with anyone, they’d laugh at Captain America being too scared of being alone. When he had the love and adoration of the whole world, a second chance at life and everything one could need to be happy.
But he still couldn’t bear the deafening silence of his lonely apartment. He’d get home from work, switch on the television so he’d have something to talk about with his colleagues, sip on a beer. It didn’t necessarily get him drunk or even taste all that great but it made him feel normal.
He never had to think about being alone in a strange new world all that much since he was often too busy. But he absolutely would not have an entire floor to himself. He’d surely go crazy.
“Four minutes for the elevator to get up here from the ground floor. It’s so high,” you marvelled at the view the floor to ceiling windows gave you.
“Yeah. They really should put some music there. They used to, back in my day,” he shared.
He wasn’t afraid of talking about his past with you. You never made fun of him for it, but instead listened intently and nodded. At most you’d tease him a bit... but he kinda liked that.
He punched in the code to his apartment, telling it to you, “Your birthday,” he winked, “it’s changed every twenty-hour hours.”
“That seems a bit excessive. This place is like a fortress, I doubt anybody could break in.”
He held the door open for you as you entered. Surprised to find the apartment already furnished.
“How did they manage to do all this so soon?” you wondered. Running your hands on the leather of the couch in the middle of the living.
The dark couch went well with the hardwood floors. A tall bookshelf to the side, it felt almost like a study, your fears of it being too modern and minimalistic for Steve’s taste were null, too masculine for your taste though. It seemed a lot like Steve’s old apartment. “Needs a woman’s touch.”
“You can decorate it however you like,” he said, hugging you from behind, he propped his chin up on your head.
“I don’t know... I don’t have any experience decorating apartments...” your voice small, scared of not being able to live up to his expectations. “Certainly wouldn’t do as good a job as you did,” your back leaned into his front.
“I didn’t decorate this, honey,” he chuckled. “Tony hired an interior designer. A few months ago but I didn’t want to live here then. We can ask him to call her again and then you can talk to her.”
“No, I don’t want to cause trouble. And it’s not like we’re living here for long,” you shrugged.
“What do you mean?” his voice stiff and although you couldn’t look at him you just knew he was frowning.
“Isn’t it a bit too soon to move in together?”
“But we were already living together.”
You sighed, “Yeah, but making renovations seems too... permanent?”
“You don’t want us to be permanent?”
You turned around, your heart aching at even the thought of hurting him, “That’s not what I meant, love... Isn’t it weird to live where you work?”
“It’s better this way. I can get home to you sooner,” he argued.
“Well, I suppose that’s true.”
“Are you having second thoughts about us?” he asked.
You immediately shook your head, “It’s a bit intimidating, but nope, no second thoughts.”
“That’s good then.”
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You often dreamt all things Steve ever since you started dating him. Marrying him, even having a little boy wearing a mini Captain America suit for Halloween who looked eerily similar to Steve. You called him James after Steve’s late friend, you hadn’t told him about that though.
This morning you were dreaming of being whisked away in Italy, having your wedding to him by lake Como. You were wearing a traditional forties style gown, much like the one your grandma wore at your wedding.
Scrunching your nose as you were pulled from your beautiful dream when you felt something wet on your cheek. Rubbing it away with your palm, you moaned.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Steve cooed, peppering kisses all over your face. Knowing that to be the best way to calm you before you snapped at him for waking you up so early.
You opened your eyes, rubbing your sleep away, “It’s still dark... I thought we agreed I’m doing school online,” you turned away from him, nuzzling your face into your pillow. “What time is it?”
“It’s five.”
“Pm?”
He snorted, “No. AM.”
“Oh my god, Steve!” you groaned, “What is wrong with you? That’s like...the middle of the night. Let me sleep in peace.”
“We have to train you. Come on I’ll teach you some self defense moves, it’ll be fun.”
“I doubt any amount of training will make me capable of fighting off hydra...”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t try,” he interrupted you, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Maybe in the evening.”
“Morning is the best time to do it. Come on, it’ll be fun! Besides, we always do your thing.”
He did often let you pick the movie or drag him shopping so he could hold your bags and pay for your stuff. You knew he liked to work out and would like to have you do it with him. The only problem was--you literally couldn’t think of anything worse to do.
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“Square your shoulders, honey,” he instructed as you followed, seeing an opening to punch him in his stomach, and because you were mad about being woken up at literally the crack of dawn you took it.
He managed to dodge it, obviously. And even had the nerve to be cocky about it as he smirked at you. “You’re so small, puppy,” he teased, patting your head.
You huffed, being almost a foot shorter than him. “Whatever.”
And then you recalled all the times you had wrestled your cousin, who was much bigger than you, when you were kids. Remembering a move that often worked on him.
You launched towards Steve, holding onto his midsection and trying to tackle him to the ground.
“Urgh!” you groaned but he refused to move even an inch.
Eventually you did give up, if only so you could stop embarrassing yourself. Helping, or rather just standing to the side and watching Steve as he punched the shit out of a bag.
“Go, Steve!” you cheered. Rubbing your thighs together at the sight of him all sweaty and of his bulging muscles. “You should bring me down here more often,” you sighed dreamily.
“Will do,” he smirked, pulling the velcro of his gloves, “Come on, it’s time to do some crunches, I’ll spot you.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, please,” you tried to run away, even though you knew it’d be of no use, but he effectively caught you and made you lie down on the mat. Giving you a goal of two sets of twenty frigging crunches.
“I hate you,” you grumbled. Willing yourself to pull your upper body up despite the slight pain in your side, moving up as Steve pecked your lips. To give you an ‘incentive’.
“Stop lying, I know you love me,” he smiled.
Lying back on the mat after your first set, on the verge of giving up but Steve kept insisting that you go on.
You looked down at him. His skin barely had a sheen of sweet, blond strands kissing his forehead. He still had an amber glow to his skin even as you got closer to the winter months.
“You’re staring, sweetheart,” he reminded you.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t help myself.” Often getting lost in his beauty.
You smirked as you got a wicked idea, putting your legs over his, straddling his hips, “Have you ever wanted to do something in public?” you asked, as he simply stared up at you, completely dumbfounded. Rolling your hips against his, “I have, it’ll be fun and thrilling.”
“I... No,” he blinked, shaking his head, “We shouldn’t,” but even as he said it, he held onto your sides, pulling you closer to him. You giggled as you felt his hard cock pressing against your thigh.
“Oh my god, guys, come on.”
You yelped, holding onto Steve’s shoulders to keep from falling, looking to your side to see where the voice came from.
“We could come back if you want...” Natasha said. She didn’t look fazed by it at all, unlike her friend.
“No, we are not coming back! This is not what you use the gym for, Rogers.”
You looked at Steve, who was as red as a tomato, “Sorry,” he got up, helping you up as well, standing behind you to cover up his erection, he introduced you to his friend, “This is Sam.”
“Nice to meet you,” Sam gave you a nervous smile.
“We should get going,” Steve said, pushing you towards the exit. “That’s a sneaky way to get out of training,” he whispered in your ear as you walked back to the elevator, “It won’t work again,” pinching you butt, making you squeal.
“We’ll see.”
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You hummed as you looked at your side of the closet, which was as big as your old living room, it looked as if you didn’t really have enough stuff to fill it out. You looked over at Steve’s side, even more empty... and “So boring,” you whispered under your breath.
“Right?” Tony nodded, as if agreeing with you.
Why he was there in the first place you didn’t know. You didn’t invite him, neither did Steve, he had said he just wanted to see how well you both were fitting in. With Steve gone for the most part of the past couple of days you were on your own to unpack everything.
Tony said he’d help you... but you had a feeling he was just snooping.
“What a grandfather sense of fashion he has,” he looked at your poor Steve’s shirts in disgust.
You took offense to that. “If anyone can pull it off, he can,” you huffed. Nobody insults your man.
“Really?” he quirked a brunette brow, “I don’t think so. I mean... I could probably. I can pull off anything,” he boosted.
“I mean, you could try them on if you like, but they’re probably too big for you,” you taunted him in mock sympathy.
“Ouch, guess I deserve that,” he said as he went through the box you had stuffed your make up in.
“What are you even looking for?” you pulled it away from him, glaring at him, “Don’t you have a company to run or a world to save?”
“Hey, Steve was the one who asked me to keep you company,” he held his hands up.
“Really?”
“Well, he asked Nat, which is basically the same as asking me. So I volunteered. He wasn’t happy about that though,” you smacked his hand away when he tried to pry into another box.
“Why would you volunteer?” Steve may have good intentions but having the billionaire hovering over you was only making you irritated.
“... to hang out I guess,” he confessed when he couldn’t really think of anything else to say.
You giggled, “If you wanted to be my friend you could’ve just said so!”
“No... no,” he shook his head, “I didn’t say anything about wanting to be friends.”
He was just curious about you. To figure out what Caps taste is. And to maybe get some hot goss about him. Not that being friends with you sounds like the end of the world, you certainly weren’t as insufferable as Cap.
“What would you like to do, fren?” you fluttered your lashes at him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be packing?”
“I’m bored of being cooped up. Lets do something fun!”
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Steve smiled, a wide cheeky one, as he thought of all the things he could do with you and spend the remainder of his day with you. His stomach doing somersaults in giddiness.
“I could get used to this,” he said to himself before calling out for you. The thought of coming home to you everyday, so domestic and romantic. His smile dropping as he looked for you in the bedroom, the boxes sat scattered and unopened. All over the room.
He knew you were in the apartment before he even heard your voice, his super senses alerting him, “Oh, Steve!” you perked up. Giggling as you put your shopping bags down. “So, I might’ve made an oopsie.”
Plumping down on the fluffy bed, large enough to fit two Steve’s and still have room for you, taking off your real Louboutins. Since Steve gave you his card, you decided you wanted to treat yourself to them. But they were equally as uncomfortable as the fake ones.
“What?” he quirked a brow, his hands on his hips as he despondently shook his head.
“Well, Tony pointed out that your wardrobe is kinda...” you thought of a adjective that wouldn’t be offensive, biting your lip as you went through your vocabulary, “Old-ish?” when he didn’t reply you kept going, “and I might’ve maxed out your card... Tony offered to pay! But it didn’t feel right,” you jutted your bottom lip out, pushing your titts up together in an attempt to look cute.
“You went out? When I specifically asked you not to?” a rage simmering in his voice--which you didn’t quite like. Because who the fuck was he to talk to you like that?
“I had Iron Man with me. I think I was okay. You’re being annoying,” you rolled your eyes.
“Am I?” his hands now folded over his chest.
And you’d be frustrated with him acting as if he was your dad, sure you called him daddy but that didn’t give him the right to have authority over you while you weren’t naked, if he didn’t look so fucking good. With the veins propping on his forearms, light blond hair littered over it, his watch strapped on his wide wrist. You only stared him down in response.
“It would’ve been better if you had went alone instead. Tony is nothing but trouble,” he scoffed.
“I thought you wanted me to make friends with your team,” you countered.
“Are my clothes too embarrassing for you? Am I too old for you?” he tried to keep his voice from wavering, to hide some of his vulnerability, but he couldn’t, not to you anyway. “Is that why you didn’t tell your family about me?”
You gaped at him. That was the reason you hadn’t told your mom. She’d point out the obvious reasons, as she had just like you expected, him being from the forties would just make things harder for you both.
“I - ” you started but then stopped, “I like your clothes as they are. If you don’t like what I got you then we can return them. I just wanted to do something nice for you,” getting up and then walking towards him, kissing his jaw and stroking his arms to calm him, “you never think about yourself, I wanted to do that for you.”
“I wish that was true, doll,” he replied gravely. His lips pressed in a thin line as he looked at your sweet face, “But you have to apologize. For not following my orders.”
You snorted, taking a step back, “For the last time--you cannot order me around. I don’t care that you think you know what’s best.”
“Really? I’ve been working my ass off on trying to find the guys that did this to you and you are just hell bent on making my life harder,” he let out a dry chuckled, “say your sorry.”
“Make me.”
You regretted the words as soon as they came out of you, before you knew it he had you hauled over his lap, ready to spank an apology out of you.
“Ah!” you yelped at the unceremonious blow.
You did like it when he spanked you, you truly didn’t know why, but it made your pussy quiver. And honestly he didn’t do it enough. Only doing it once when you were late and weren’t able to call him.
Slapping your covered bottom a second time before stopping when he heard you moan, slipping a palm under your dress, being purposely slow to draw it out for you, to torture you in his own way, he pushed your panties aside, swirling your juices around your lips.
“You’re fucking enjoying this,” he growled.
You whimpered when he rolled your bundle of nerves between his fingers, nodding your head, already feeling yourself tethering on the edge.
“That’s too bad... I’ll have to be more creative,” he said as he withdrew his hand, making you writhe in his hold.
You looked at him over your shoulder, wiggling your butt to try to entice him before huffing when he simply stared at you, stoic as ever, “You’re no fair!”
“I’m doing this to be fair, sweetheart. I don’t enjoy it anymore than you do.”
A blatant, clear-cut, shameless lie. You both knew it. He loved thinking of ways to ‘punish' and executing them.
“What are you doing?” you asked as he placed you over his lap, your back to his broad front, his fingers working on the zipper of your dress. Pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.
“I’m going to fuck you till you admit that you’re sorry,” since he had no patience for insolence, placing a dubiously sweet and innocent kiss to your cheek.
“In your dreams,” you retorted but then shivered in his arms you let him roll your panties down your thick thighs, lifting up your hips to help him out, leaving you completely bare against him.
You bashfully rubbed your face against his button up, you felt his heart beating steadily, as his hands shamelessly explored your body. Grabbing and kneading at your breasts and hips, tracing the stretch marks on your thighs.
“Aren’t you gonna take your clothes off too?” you made yourself small.
You weren’t afraid of being so vulnerable before him, you had gotten used to it because you trusted him enough to not be intimidated by his perfect physique, but right now your whole body felt hot as you just wanted to cover up and give yourself some sort of modesty. Even if your desires and yearning for him was anything but modest.
“No, honey,” he answered, his fingers parting your weeping lips as he looked down to get a glance of it over your shoulders. Licking his lips at the sight of it, “Such a pretty pussy, doll. And all mine,” he rasped as he prodded at your hole with his middle finger before pushing it in, “Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” you nodded, trying to roll your hips over the erection pressing into your back.
He stilled your movements by holding onto your hips, warning you to stop, “Forever?” he urged.
“Yes, forever, god, just do something!” you wailed. Because whatever he was doing was not enough to satisfy you.
He hummed in thought, “I’m not a young guy. I prefer to take my time,” he pushed another finger in, stretching you out by viscously scissoring your cunt, all the while kissing your hair and your face.
He wasn’t someone who took only what he needed.
He didn’t need you.
Although it often seem to him as if you were like air--impossible to live without. He didn’t need you to live.
But he wanted you. More than anything else in the whole world.
He knew he shouldn’t keep you. Only being with you for a few months and he had almost gotten you killed but there was no way he could help himself.
“I’m selfish,” he whispered to you, pausing his ministrations to ruin your climax, “I’m selfish with you. I’m not as good as everyone makes me out to be,” he confessed. He didn’t know if it was right to do so, but he didn’t want to even consider the other option of letting you go.
“I figured out long ago that you weren’t all that good and boring,” you cried as he stopped again. Your hand holding onto his wrist as your sensitive cunt gushing juices of arousal all over your brand new sheets. “But I’m good, aren’t I, daddy?” you whispered, sultrily. “You can make me come--I’m always good to you. I promise I’ll suck you off after.”
“No.”
Tears welled up in your eyes at his rejection, he had never done that to you. To deny you so easily and bluntly. You thought he was the one person in this whole world who would do anything for you, you could ask for the moon and he’d probably try to give it to you.
Was he really that mad at you?
Your bottom lip quivering as tears welled up in your eyes, “You’re so mean,” you accused, loudly sniffing as you felt a tear drop down your cheek.
He blinked, his fingers stopping their assault on your swollen pussy as he took in your words. You could stomp all over his heart, even shoot him, do anything you want to him, he’d forgive you for it but he absolutely could not bear to see you cry.
“No, pup,” he cooed, gently removing his fingers as you whined, he kissed your forehead as he hushed you, “it’s okay, you’re okay, shush,” one hand under your neck and circling another under your knees, cradling your naked body close to his chest like a babe, he rocked you back and forth in an effort to sooth you.
“I’m sorry I was mean,” he whispered into your hair.
“You broke your pinky promise,” you held onto his neck. You were angry with him and at the situation but your body craved the comfort his gave you. “I can’t trust you now.”
His heart ached at that, “Don’t say that,” he furrowed his brows, kissing you all over your face, “I didn’t yell, puppy.”
“But you got mad,” you puffed your cheeks.
“I didn’t promise to not get mad. That’s a bit unrealistic...”
“No, you promised--no yelling, curing or meanness. Not calling me your 'good girl' or letting me come is mean! And cruel,” you reminded him, whimpering into his chest.
“Right, right. I’m sorry, that’s my fault then. I got a bit carried away... I thought you liked that you know?”
You hummed. You did like it when Steve was a bit rough, but you always knew he loved you with all his heart because you could see it in his eyes. The way he’d praise you for being so good for him, calling you his one and only, that he could never love anyone as much as he loves you.
But when he didn’t say that to you, when he refused to call you good, your soft heart couldn’t take the rejection.
“I do... but...” you hid your face in his neck.
“But what?” he urged you.
“But I also like knowing that you love me,” you spoke against his prickly stubble.
“Of course I love you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t, even for a second. You’re my sweet girl, forever and always,” he promised, rocking you some more, until your breathing becomes normal and steady again.
“You’re my daddy forever too,” you giggled, “or Captain, whatever you prefer.”
“If I had to pick I’d say Steve,” he told you. While it was nice to have you call him sweet name, nobody really uses his given name anymore. To have you call him that in your sweet girly voice, reminding him that he could be just Steve with you, was exhilarating.
“Okie, Stevie then.”
“Right, how about I draw you a bath? Afterwards we can go over the things you got me,” he perked up.
“You don’t have to wear them if you’re not comfortable.”
“I know, pup, but I want to. I want to get with the times. Can’t have anyone making fun of you for dating an old man,” he teased, swaying you some more.
“Hm, but...”
“But what?”
“I... um... still wanna come, so bad,” you whispered softly, rubbing your thighs together. “Will you make me come, Stevie?”
“Yes,” he replied immediately, “how would you like me to?”
“I wanna come around you,” you stated as heat rushed to your cheeks. “And I am sorry. I probably should’ve told you before going with Tony.”
“I know you’ve been cooped up, honey. I’m going to take a few days off so we can do whatever you like,” he said, working on unbuckling his belt, “But before that, I need to take care of my sweet girl, just like she does for me.”
Your hands feebly pulling at his button up, he took your queue and rid himself of it, along with his undershirt as your hands explored the expanse of his broad chest.
Pulling his length out, he manoeuvred your body till you over him, “Guide me in, sweetheart,” he instructed as you whimpered.
Grabbing the base of his cock, coating your slick in his pre ejaculate, you slowly sunk down on him. Not being able to fit all of him in, because he was as thick as a can of pringles, and oh so long.
You looked at him, too anxious to disappoint him, “Can’t fit it all in,” you whined.
“It’s okay, doll,” he stroked your back. “We’ll make it fit some other day,” he pecked your lips, lying on his back and pulling you down with him he snaked a hand between your bodies, working your clit up with his hand till he felt you convulsing and clenching around his length, gripping him so tight as you squirmed in his hold.
Whispering sweet nothings to you as you calmed down from your high. You wanted to do something for him too, to make him come, so you grinded your hips over his, shivering at the sick squelching sounds your joined sexes made.
But he stopped you by gripping your hips, “How about you just keep me warm for now?” he asked.
You hummed, “It’ll be hard...” to have him just stay inside you, and you knew he could stay hard for hours if he wanted to, and for you to not be able to do anything about it...
“I know it will be. But you’re my good girl, you can do that for me, right?” he tipped your chin up to make you look at him.
“Yes, Stevie,” you agreed.
Laying your head back on his chest, muttering a ‘sorry' whenever you accidentally clenched around him and following his orders like a good girl would.
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fleckcmscott · 3 years
Text
Coffee & Donuts
Summary: Arthur’s thrilled to be part of a crowd. Though the evening doesn’t go perfectly, Y/N’s flirtations make it sweet.
Warnings: Smut
Words: 4,602
A/N: Alright. After the heart wrenching angst of my last piece (which I love, by the way; don't get me wrong! 😂), I had to write another story in which Arthur and Y/N are happy and together. It's inspired by one of Arthur's visions during their kiss. I hope you all like it! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing!
If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!
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Parties and celebrations weren't foreign to Arthur. He'd worked plenty, enough to make him realize what he'd been missing out on. He was well-versed in pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, and balloon animals. But as an adult, those activities didn't satisfy. He wanted to be included rather than paid. Connect with people, introduce himself. Discuss his experiences and pursuits. Feel sufficiently at ease to loosen up a little and have a good time.
Now he was a guest - a certified guest - at Patricia Gorman's fifty-sixth birthday party. The first party he'd been invited to since being the weird kid in class who'd rotated between three worn out sweaters and could never afford a gift.
He'd been a tad apprehensive about going to Burnside. Gotham's nicest borough had a reputation for high rents and low tolerance. When Y/N and he had entered 2E, however, Patricia's greeting ("You made it!") and the apartment were thoroughly welcoming. Crocodile brown walls and forest green shag carpet made the spacious living room a cozy hideaway. Marigolds leapt across the polyester of the T-cushion sofa and its easy-chair companion. The floor lamp's amber, crimped glass shades cast the spacious living room in a glow borrowed from warm autumn days.
Patricia's husband, Robert, was out on an emergency call. An HVAC had gone haywire in a residential building in Hinckley. Her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had been by for lunch. That meant the only other guests were Matt - Y/N's old boss - and a bottle-blonde in a black halter dress and spike heels, who Y/N introduced as Laura. ("She's Matt's ex-wife," Y/N later disclosed. "He's been trying to win her back since I moved to Gotham.") Both shook Arthur's hand when he offered it, and he felt a little thrill whirl his stomach when Y/N laid claim to him by telling the woman, "This is my husband."
A collection of appetizers served as dinner, a fun and novel menu. The slow cooker meatballs Y/N and he had lugged over on the subway were a bit tangy; he still couldn't believe the recipe called for grape jelly. The deviled eggs with paprika, a pleasant mix of savory and sweet, was a dish he'd heard about on television. Cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches were light and airy, a good match for his iced tea. Only the artichoke and spinach dip gave him pause. Its beans and hot sauce made his taste buds wince.
That unpleasant flavor was quickly forgotten when Y/N pulled him to sit next to her on the sofa, so Patricia could open her presents. She proudly showed off the orange, clay ashtray her grandson had made for her. Arthur, having successfully kept the secret of her light smoking from Y/N, chuckled at Patricia fibbing she'd put candy in it. She thanked Matt and Laura for the champagne, wrapped in a silver bow with a simple "Happy Birthday" tag. The bottle wasn't popped. Upon peeking into the large giftbag Y/N placed on her lap, she made a soft sound. The Dazey whirlpool bath, which attached to the side of the tub and had three strength settings, was a hit. She announced her plans to try it in the morning. The dark blue Rexbuilt briefbag was intended to replace her cracked, leather briefcase, Y/N explained. Patricia ran her fingertips along the expanding inner compartments, the personalized planner that included the credential "CLA" after her name, and flipped through the included steno pads, eyes brimming.
She sipped at her cocktail and put an arm around Y/N. Melancholy tinged Patricia's voice. "At my age, the people in your life tend to stay the people in your life. Whether you like them or not." She reached further and patted Arthur's knee. "I'm glad an old dame like me gets to call you all friends." His throat clenched in gratification, though he wasn't daring enough to squeeze her hand and thank her for deciding he was a friend.
Still on top of the world an hour later, Arthur sauntered to the red and white enamel dining table to serve himself a second slice of upside-down pineapple cake. The evening had gone well, better than a guy with a natural inability to mingle could've expected. He bobbed his head to the beat of "Come Fly with Me." It was a happy coincidence that Patricia's taste in music aligned with his. She'd regaled him with tales of seeing Sinatra and Count Basie on her and Robert's honeymoon in Vegas. Arthur took a bite absentmindedly, wondering how long it would take for him to save the money to surprise Y/N with plane and concert tickets.
The daydreaming didn't last long. Matt's plodding footsteps preceded him, followed by a long sigh as he propped himself on the beige stone of the dining area's accent wall, across from the u-shaped kitchen. He held out a Budweiser and smirked. "Marriage is a hell of a lot of work."
Pleased that he was being treated like one of the guys, like a regular husband with a regular relationship who got to speak about his regular wife, Arthur accepted the beer and considered the comment. Matt's sentiment was hard to grasp. Dr. Sally had said marriage could be difficult, and Y/N's first hadn't survived the ripples of her life. But it didn't feel like work with her. Their arguments were minor. Her nagging him to find a primary doctor for annual check-ups, even though he'd survived this long without one. Or back in Missouri, when he'd told her to stop shielding him and trust he could take anything she had to give.
Arthur adopted a similar nonchalant posture and jutted his hip against the table's edge. "I like it. It's easy to take good care of her." He wasn't able to completely erase the smugness of success from his tone.
"You're what? Two years in with the most headstrong woman in Gotham? She's great and all, but she spikes my blood pressure." Matt slapped Arthur's back and let out a hearty guffaw. "Give it five more and you'll be in my office trying to avoid alimony."
"Don't. Say that." Arthur crinkled the can in his grip and glared up at him.
"Hey," Matt started, withdrawing even as he tried diplomacy. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."
Flinching, pulling at the cuffs of his red sweater, Arthur fought the surge of anger in his veins. It wouldn't do to lose control and cause a scene. Of course Matt's comment about them splitting up was supposed to be a joke. But Arthur didn't find it one bit funny. Even with his complete faith in her and his firm belief that they were meant to be together, the possibility that she'd stop wanting him hurt. It didn't occur to him that the implication of the punchline could be that he'd get sick of Y/N.
With a muttered apology, Matt walked to the others in the kitchen. Arthur glanced over to see her laugh tipsily, until she grabbed her stomach and swatted Patricia's shoulder, a stark demonstration of how much he and Y/N differed. She always knew how to respond to people, the right comebacks. Appropriate timing and levels of interaction. It seemed she was in her natural element, the loveliest swan on a lake. Whereas after years of therapy and practice with her, he was still a fish out of water, flopping around on the shoreline in hopes some stranger would take pity on him and throw him back into the sea.
Maybe that was the real punchline. Eventually their contrasts would no longer complement each other and instead become a chore.
Scowling, he ambled towards the record player stationed before two double-hung windows. Increased the volume to drown out the intrusive notions. It didn't really work. He settled on a grounding technique he'd practiced, all the while lamenting that he couldn't handle a party without needing it. His attention went to the spinning LP, the needle following its grooves. The bright blue album cover, where Ol' Blue Eyes beckoned him, the scuff marks on the cardboard's corner edges. He acknowledged the spider plants sat on the windowsill, worried a papery leaf until it broke off. He stared out the window, taking in the whole of the city. Pinpricks of light dazzling in the darkness.
"Gotham's beautiful at night," Y/N said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her approach. Her cheeks glowed with alcohol and good cheer, the collar of her ivory blouse unbuttoned. "There's a life behind every light out there. Ten million of them. Here. Try this." She offered her hurricane glass, filled with an off-white slush.
He sipped the pina colada with cautious skepticism and grimaced as soon as it hit his tongue. The blend of pineapple and coconut tasted of cheap sunscreen and tropical imitations, the kind advertised in smudged brochures for bad cruises to islands with made up sounding names. "No, thanks."
Snorting, she shrugged and embraced his back at the waist. "How are we doing?" she asked, curling into his side. After a few seconds, she prodded him. "Had your fill of Matt?"
"He was just joking." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.  She set the drink next to the record player and brought her hand to his, trailed it over the inside of his wrist, up his forearm. She pecked his chin and nudged him until he turned to her. As soon as their gazes met, the concern in hers told him she'd continue to pepper him with questions. But he wasn't about to let his misplaced doubts spoil her evening. And he knew the perfect way to distract them both.
A new song started. An oldie that sang of Jupiter and Mars, playfulness among the stars. He cupped her cheek, thumb sweeping the corner of her mouth. "Dance with me," he said. Before accepting his proffered palm, she laid a sloppy kiss on him. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she grinned, and his smile grew to match her own. As he held her side, led her in a slow, swaying circle, he marveled at her. At her ability to soothe every molecule, every lingering ache. Self-assurance welled in him, chased away his earlier dejection. He cradled her to his lanky frame, trembled and felt himself blush. She was the only woman for him. That was as certain as his cigarette habit.
Despite Patricia's reassurances she was fine, that Robert working late wasn't unusual, Y/N insisted on staying until he got home. Though Arthur would have preferred they take their leave an hour earlier, being allowed to smoke inside blunted his grumbling. The disarming flirtations she bestowed on him also didn't hurt. She'd pour herself a drink (four in total, if he counted correctly), help Patricia make a plate of leftovers for her husband, then throw him a wink. Whisper and cackle while cleaning, then kiss his temple.
Around midnight, Patricia put her foot down. Ushered them out with a promise to call and a hug fierce enough to crush his ribs. She raised a brow at Y/N's unsteady gait, grasped Arthur's arm, and said with a wry, tired smile, "Make sure you put that woman straight to bed." His dark brows shot up and held. Had she intended a pun? Or had Y/N's spare caresses caused the interpretation? Either way, he liked being trusted to take care of her. And the hint of arousal that flared in his belly.
By the time they stumbled into their apartment, that arousal had reduced to a dull exhaustion. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bathroom, calling a slurred "night!" as she closed the door. Yawning, he put dish soap and hot water in the crockpot, scrubbed burned bits of sauce from its rim, turned it upside down on a towel to dry. Once he'd brushed his teeth for one minute rather than the recommended two, he tossed his sweater, trousers, briefs, and socks in the hamper, and went to the bedroom. He found his blue pajamas in their usual spot, the chair in the corner, and slid them up his skinny but toned legs. Tucked in next to her, he was carried to sleep on waves of fatigue and her quiet, wet snoring.
~~~~~
A tickle threatened to rouse him. Whispers along the waistband of his bottoms. Heat snuggled his back. Delightfully drowsy, he cuddled deeper into cozy, cream-color sheets, already returning to a pleasant, dreamless slumber. But a rumble of exhaust, likely from a bus that needed a new muffler, dragged him to consciousness. Arthur grumbled and tucked his arm under his pillow, not ready to transition to a world of overcrowding and concrete, commotion and bad jokes.
Yet, Y/N's insistent grazes continued, luring him with promises of placid pleasure. Her toes wiggled at his heel until he made space for her to slip her foot between his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked. He was reminded of last night's playfulness, her endless teasing. The way he'd held the crockpot as a shield to fend off her advances on the train home, her forwardness to the point that he would've preferred having a laminated card to present on her behalf. Forgive my wife: she has a condition. It causes frequent and uncontrollable displays of affection.
Nimble fingers edged lower, loosened the tie of his pajamas before dipping beneath the loose elastic to lace through his dark brown curls, darker than the chestnut hair on his head. Her knuckles ran over him, lazy caresses full of intent. Up and down, up and down. Delicate. Deliberate. The blood racing to his groin, the pleasant swelling, made his abdomen twitch. Soon full and heavy, the sensitive tip straining the cotton seams, he pressed his lips together. When she skimmed the tender skin resting on his inner thigh, he flexed the muscle at the base of his erection. It bobbed and hit her wrist and she let loose a girlish giggle, more intoxicating than wine.
With her left leg draped over him at the knee, she undulated against his rear. Plush lips brushed the boney knobs of his spine, damp breath fanned the nape of his neck, labored, needy. Pebbled nipples grazed his back through the thin nylon of her nightgown, taunting and compelling. He made up his mind to throw an arm around her, to yank her on top of him. To eagerly take part in her seduction.
But she withdrew from his bottoms to palm his stomach and plant a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, "Sleep tight." The mattress shifted and she rolled away from him. He furrowed his brows. She rarely relented this easily - other times he'd awakened, hard and aching, enveloped by the captivating wetness of her mouth. What was she up to?
Covers rustled. Her calf bumped his. And the opposite of what he'd assumed occurred. Instead of light footfalls leading out of the room, there was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on and on...
Until a hitched gasp gave her away.
Touching herself. She was touching herself. She'd just been all over him, acted like he was some sort of model on the cover of Vue magazine, and now she was touching herself. Right beside him! Ecstatic to have inspired such brazenness, he grinned and fisted the pillow. Her fleeting, stifled moans tangled him in knots, implored him to give her what they both burned for.
He flipped in her direction, his hand shooting under the sheet to grab hers. "Gotcha."
Eyes wide, she gaped at him in surprise. But adoration softened her expression as she entwined their fingers. "How long have you been awake?" she asked.
"Long enough."
He stretched to rewind the shades, the diaphanous curtains staying in place. Sunlight diffused over them, wrapped around her face, lent her disheveled hair a warm luster. He twirled a feathered lock and pecked her eyelids. "Finishing what you started on the subway, hm?"
"Me?" Y/N brought his knuckles to her mouth.  "You're the one who came to bed without any underwear."
"Well, it was a late night." The pad of his thumb tugged at her bottom lip to reveal the pink tip of her tongue. He bent to claim it. "I was lucky to find my pajamas."
Chuckling, she broke their connection. "Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah. The cake was good. And the music. Everyone was nice."
"Patricia loved having you there. She thought you were very sweet." A pause as she mapped a dimple. "Matt said he'd upset you. Something stupid about breaking up?"
Vague shadows of discomfort flashed through Arthur, a frustration he'd mostly moved on from. He did his best to ignore it, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."
"He was just jealous, you know." Her nails ran along the small of his back. "He wants Laura to look at him the way I look at you."
Arthur had spent so much of his life yearning for change, to understand his purpose in the world and improve himself. The idea that a man with a good education, a successful career, and no disabilities could ever be jealous of him was, frankly, bizarre. But he didn't correct Y/N, instead locking her praise within his heart, preserving it for when he needed it most. He boosted himself on his forearm and fiddled with her V-neck, traced its button loops as he slipped the plastic knobs through them. "And how's that?'
A hint of scandal glimmered in her irises. She arched into him as he eased a strap down her upper arm to reveal her shapely breast, the lilac fabric momentarily catching on its taut peak. "Like I can't get enough of you."
He huffed at that, fondled her faintly before his lips met the velvety skin of her chest. A tonic comprised of the musk oil she'd dabbed on before the party and distinct sexual wanting wafted to his nostrils. He licked at her nipple, the bumps on her areola, and drew it between his teeth. She whined softly and lifted the bottom of her nightdress to her waist.
Hurriedly, he yanked on the waistband of her cotton panties, pushed them past her knees. She kicked them off while he knelt to lower his bottoms. Straddling her, he pumped himself back to hardness and opened the drawer of her nightstand. He searched haphazardly until he retrieved a small, glass bottle of lubricant. (She'd ordered it from a mail catalog, both of them a bit too bashful to walk into an adult shop, even together.)
She snagged it from him and poured half a teaspoon in her hand, then palmed herself. He moved between her legs and she grasped his length, coating him with the warm, slippery liquid. He pushed forward into her. Gradually, slowly, savoring every millimeter of her enticing heat. He noted the stretch of her mouth, the jut of her jaw, the lifting of her upper lip. "Mmm..." she breathed and begged him to keep going. When he did, her head tilted back into the pillow, eyelids falling shut. A smile cut across her cheeks as she purred her satisfaction. "Arthur, I love you."
His touch wandered down the curve of her thigh. At the sight of her subtle writhing beneath him, the sway of her slightly uneven breasts in time with his languid thrusts, he pushed her knee into the mattress, splayed her wider. He grunted lowly. "Look at me."
Their gazes met but didn't hold for long; hers dropped to where they were joined. She caressed right above his pubic bone. "I love seeing you like this." Her fingertips walked a line up his sternum to his chest. "And touching you like this." She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her, locked their lips in a greedy kiss. "And making love like this."
He snorted. "I think this is the only reason you married me."
"Well, not the only reason. There's your good hair, too."
"I've been thinking about cutting it. Trying something new."
"Don't you dare." She tugged at his loose curls, wore her best pout. "What else would I hold onto when we're doing this?"
Laughing lightly, he bumped his nose to hers. Falling into her was like falling into his old fantasies, the ones that'd sustained him through years of isolation. Dates at diners, at comedy clubs, at donut shops, at home. Their shapes had changed as he'd matured, his role in them, his aspirations and infatuations. But they'd remained a warm comfort nonetheless, a place that felt like belonging. And now he belonged with her. Hunger filled him. Happiness. And love. So much love, more than he'd ever believed he'd carried in him. He bucked a little harder. "You feel so good," he murmured. "You make me feel so good."
A strained cry left her and her pelvis answered his steady rhythm with demands of its own. Her calves rose to squeeze him closer, encircle his narrow hips. They were pressed together so tightly; it felt like they were one flesh. He never wanted it to stop. But a dizzying euphoria had ignited, one that eclipsed the romantic yearnings of his heart, twisting his desire to last all morning into the desperate drive to possess her. Gasping, Arthur raised himself to his knees, delving deeper with each push. Their foreheads met and he grit his teeth at the scald of her, the texture of her walls. She fit as though she'd been made for him.
He supposed she was.
Pressure began in the base of him, building and building in terrific torment. The muscles of his inner thighs contracted inward. Tingling climbed his shaft, his tailbone, his spine. He wove his fingers into the sheet, his grip a vise that wrested its corner from the mattress. She kissed the spot where his jaw met his neck, all the while murmuring encouragements for him to let himself go.
Bliss shot through him, from the tips of his toes to the follicles on his scalp, and his back stiffened as he whimpered and poured into. Fever engulfed his frame, sublime in its frenzy, leaving him in a heady stupor. Aftershocks made him tremble. Once, twice. Until, sated and spent, he landed on top her. He closed his eyes, ribs rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs.
A minute later, he swallowed and looked down at her. "You didn't come."
She carded through his sweaty locks. "It's all righ-"
"Shh." He slid out of her and settled at her side, reached between her legs to swipe at her core. "I'm not done," he declared, tracing the edges of her entrance, slick and swollen. One of his favorite things about getting her off was demonstrating his prowess in bed, how well he'd learned with her. His thumb met her plump clitoral hood, and he felt her throb beneath his ministrations.
Nails biting his bicep, she rocked upwards. A bewitching blush crept up her breast, her neck, spread across her cheeks. Shallow pants hit his face, short puffs suffused with high-pitched whines, utterly irresistible. He circled her nub at a steady cadence, tapping when she'd shiver, and she clasped the back of his hand. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked the pretty peak, and lowered the other strap of her nightgown to bare her completely. A hushed plea fell from her lips. "Please, please..."
Suddenly, her vulva grew white hot and she seized, her hips stuttering with each flutter of his touch to her folds. She thrusts her breasts towards him, a sharp moan caught in her throat. Liquid pooled against his fingers, proof of her rapture that made him wish, with mild amusement, that he could be an unmedicated young man again. He would've gladly taken her a second time.
Giggling and rubbing her temple, she released a long exhale and opened her eyes. He brushed her hair back and grinned, completely smitten, like the first time he'd heard a joke and understood the punchline. The light brown picture frame on his nightstand caught his attention, and he regarded the wallet size photo in it, one of the shots of Y/N from the booth at Amusement Mile. The last thing he looked at before turning in each night. He lay his head her shoulder and hummed, listened to the drum of her heart.
She smooched his hairline and wriggled out from beneath him to stand. Her nightie had been reduced to a crumpled stripe of lilac cinched about her waist. It felt tawdry and shameless and he wanted to see her in it for the rest of the weekend. But she peeled it down her legs, wrinkling her nose when it got stuck on her thighs, and stepped out of it one foot at a time. She dropped it on the floral bedspread and retrieved her bathrobe from the closet. "Meet you in the kitchen," she said, opening the door.
The sun had risen higher, its beams slanting across the covers. He basked in it, catlike, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his pajamas, got a new pair of socks from their dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. He washed off the remnants of Y/N's arousal from his fingers, popped open a prescription bottle and took a tablet. He poured water into the coffeemaker, grabbed the can of grounds from the second shelf, added three scoops to the paper filter. Their three-tone brown mugs sat in their spot next to the machine, waiting to be filled.
When the glass coffeepot was half full, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, chuckling to herself. She opened the breadbox on the opposite counter and took out a wax paper bag. "Do you have any idea how dull this morning would have been if we'd never met? I'd have read the Sunday paper, had a drink. Probably worked on a file." He handed her a couple dessert plates, watched her put a donut on each one. "I wonder where you'd be. What woman you'd have breakfast with, what jokes you'd be writing, what magic tricks you'd have learned."
"Um..." At first he wanted to ask where this speculation had come from, if Matt had let her in on exactly what he'd said. But the confident slant of her smirk told Arthur she was teasing. He tried to play along but winced. No matter how appealing, how extraordinary she found him, his gut told him there wouldn't have been another woman. There'd be no more stand-up routines, no more Carnival. He certainly wouldn't be taking care of Penny. He'd likely be locked up in the hospital, maybe even dead. Without an anchor, his life would have lost what little sense it had.
Y/N was one of his anchors now, hooked into the sand alongside his material, treatment, the ability to pay bills. He seized her hand and squeezed it tight, unaware he was squishing her fingers. "I don't wanna think about it," he said quietly.
She sidled up to him and pulled him to her side. Rubbed his flank soothingly and pecked the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry." She took his chin and guided him to look at her. The intimate comfort of her smile helped him believe her next words, even before she spoke them. "I'll always be here."
~~~~~
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soullessmocha · 3 years
Text
i think; therefore i am || part one
{ fem! witch reader x poly!the lost boys }
|| part two ||
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part rating: teen
word count: 20716 (i am so sorry)
part summary: a nomadic witch running from her dark past (reader) finds her place after travelling the states on the shores of santa carla. in a way to make money she sets up a booth on the bustling boardwalk where she gives a few readings to a couple interesting characters for some loose change. this night she discovers she isn’t the only supernatural being.
warnings: mature language, mind manipulation, violence, use of tobacco, a cute familiar, nightmares, allusions to being burned alive, witch trials, hints to major character death, visions, and the lost boys being violent (mainly david.), this has not been proof read it has merely been skimmed.
“I promise I will be good. Please mother!” You yell towards the cloaked woman who looked at you with a disdained look on features. Features you once found comforting and like home turned on you in an instant. Those soft features are now rigid and gaunt from stress and aging, but the worse link to all the features was the cobalt blue eyes. Eyes that reflected the moon so sharply that it was almost mirrored. Eyes so sharp and focused as your mother shook her in disappointment, “No, you won’t,” her words were forthright showing no emotion behind it. How did someone who you called your mother betray you and not even take a second glance? “No, no! Wait! No, I promise!” You start to trash against the rope that is wrapped around your body, confining you to a large wooden pole. Stretching your body to its breaking point as the only color you could see was red. Then it was hot, burning, seething your skin away as one of your sisters lowers a torch at your feet. Your eyes connect to the moon as your throat lashes a blood-curdling scream into the starry clear night.
Gasping for the air you shoot up from your makeshift bed, sweating coating your skin in a glossy layer. Your lungs rapidly gasp for air as they burn from your fears that have your heart racing so much it punches your ribs. A shift in the bed causes your attention to shift. Your cat, a scruffy black devon rex steals his way up the side of your bed. His head tilting before making his own way into your lap a loud purr radiating off of your pet in his best attempts to calm you. You lift a shaky hand to plop it down on the cat’s back who tenses for a quick second before stretching his paws to your chest, reminding you to breathe. A slight smile comes to your lips, “I’m fine, Finn. Really,” you sigh and rub away the hair sticking on your face from the layer of sweat on your skin. “It’s always the same nightmare.” You admit to your furry friend who makes his way to the tail end of your bed. He stretched and tipped his nose upwards as his spine curled sniffing the air as if he was trying to investigate the surrounding area. With your heart rate slowed just the slightest you pull yourself from your bed and shuffle through the hallway that leads from your bedroom to your living space in the trailer you parked on the cliff overlooking the beach. The sun was setting, casting an orange hue in your trailer, the light catchers reflecting rainbows as they twirl mindlessly from the free breeze coming through the cracked window. Peace. That was a safe haven. However, with the sun setting you realize you have taken a nap when least expected. You must’ve needed it after the first night of working on the boardwalk. Who knew reading tarot, runes, and palms to tourists would take so much energy out of you.
A sigh escapes your lips as you attempt to step around Finn to get to your closet where you pick a black outfit with an ornate shawl to help you stand out. 
“Be good and protect the home,” you kneel down to scratch Finn under his chin after you have gathered your last-minute things and open the trailer door to have it close behind you. A quiet meow echoes from behind the door and your smirk at the small goodbye from your pet. It didn’t take you long to start up your old truck with a few hits and a couple pumps for the clutch to make your way down to the boardwalk parking lot.
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The night was the same as before but this time a couple of well rounded security guards started to come up to the booth later on into the evening. The wind was a bit harsher and the waves crashed in rhythm of the music that was being played on the tiny radio next to your ankle. The boardwalk was filled with all strains of life. There were well rounded individuals taking their picture perfect families for a night out to teens dressed in all black with every inch of their face covered in piercing and colored hair. You preferred that crowd. Then again it didn’t help to get money from those picture perfect families who you only give half ass readings for. When the heavy boots of the literal rounded security officers approached your booth were you snapped from your thoughts. Looking them up and down you can instantly get a feel of their energy, they were hostile and annoyed by the night already. Yet the night was still so young. 
“Excuse me, do you have a permit to be setting up your booth here?” The officer with the mustache questions shifting his weight onto one leg jutting out his hip.
“Yeah, you need a vendor permit to even set up here on the boardwalk,” the skinnier one of the couple started before picking at the cloth of your booth, studying it with a devious smirk. “You tell fortunes? Tell me how we are going to kick you off the boardwalk.” The two chuckle at the joke yet in a calm manner you stand with your hands on the ornate cloth. 
“I do tell fortunes, but not those who tend hurt others because they have a flimsy gold badge on their breast,” you start and give a rather deceiving smile as you tilt your head. “I do not have a vendor’s permit to be out here. However, I am sure you know how hard it is to make a living during these times. Surely you can give me a pass.” You suggest and the fatter one with the mustache snickered at your suggestion. The two looked at one another but as they looked back at you they were met with purple hazed eyes and fingers that were pointed at them which radiated purple energy. “Now, I hope you will listen to me,” you begin this time your voice was an octave deeper as you displayed your abilities to them. It wasn’t hard to sink into their minds and be able to control such a feeble psyche, the purple illuminating from their eyes indicated you were in. You didn’t even need to chant a hex to even get them to repeat after you, “I will not approach this vendor anymore.” They repeat and a smirk quivers on the corner of your lips, “I will not terrorize anyone who I deem… different. I will walk away now and forget I ever saw this vendor.” Once they repeat you flick your wrist the two men turn on their heels and quite literally march away to whatever other duties they have. You grumble to yourself as you sit back down pushing the skirt under you so you can sit properly on the chair. 
As you adjust your trinkets and cards on the table you can hear from afar an excited young boy's voice, “Mike! Look! It’s a fortune teller. We have to do this!”
“No Sammy, we said we would go to the concert and meet mom back at the entrance. I am not stopping for some phoney fortune teller who just reads some useless cards to tell me literally nothing.” the older voice replies back with an annoyed tone and quite ready to walk in the opposite direction. You don’t look up to give the hint you are listening, in fact you lean back in your chair starting to shuffle your tarot deck because indeed you know the two will end up before you.
“Well too bad. I came here to have fun and you’re ruining it. Live a little Mike. You’ve been grumpy all day,” pouts the young blonde, “plus I didn’t say you needed to get a reading done. i got my own money.”
“How did you get money?”
“I stole it from your wallet!” The younger one laughs and charges his way over to the booth and you make eye contact with him, his grin was wide and full of innocence. Blue eyes that were striking amongst the moonlight, they glimmered with hope and curiosity. “Dammit Sam!” the older one whom you assumed to be the brother charges behind. “Hi, how can I help you today?” You asks in your kindest customer service voice. The young boy holds out the ten dollar bill, “I would like a reading if I could have one please. Mom always told us about her tarot card readings, but I would like one for myself.” He grins to the side as he looks over his shoulder to his older brother, a brunette with a strong build who seems to already be annoyed just standing next to this booth and his brother. “Why of course, thank you! Take a seat please.” You request and glance over to the older brother, “If you’d like a seat by all means sit.” He didn’t respond, only took a glance at you before looking away. He was skeptical and nervous. Of course he was. “Normally I don’t do readings for such young gentlemen like you, but I like you already, so I will do a general reading. Now before I get started, may I have your name?”
“Sam,”
“Nice to meet you Sam, I am Y/N. Thank you once again,” you grant a thanks and start to shuffle your cards. Normally with normal individuals the cards don’t have this much energy. You give a breathy chuckle and shuffle fiercely before a card flies from the deck. You plant it face down before looking young Sam in the eyes giving him a playful smirk at his eagerness. “You two have a lot of energy for you, that’s a good thing.” You compliment but the older brother just snickers and crosses his arm before another card flies out. It didn’t take long for the third to fly out. You align the cards, “Alright let’s see here, this card represents you. The page of cups,” You smile gingerly at the card before flipping it to show the boy. “You are filled with wonder, you love your family and have a curious nature to you.” You can see the boy is looking at the card with curious eyes. Take in the fancy man holding a golden chalice balance on one foot and his heel. He is dressed in quite jarring clothes like the boy sitting in front of you. “You also love to express yourself in ways that are creative, like your fashion, or music.” You not before hovering your hand over the next card. “This card represents the path you are on," you flip over the card to see the emperor standing sitting on his throne high and mighty, “the emperor. Now this card is quite powerful, one of my favorites. You are on the path of seeking how to defend yourself and those you love. How to become more powerful in the sense of trying to find structure and to grow in your sense of logic and practicality.” At this point you didn’t even notice the older brother has now sat down. Full attention on you and the cards. You give him a wink before turning your attention back to his younger brother, “It seems like you’re trying to find a father figure role within yourself or by others.” The boys' features soften from a grin to a saddened look, that must’ve struck a bit too close for home. “Let’s continue, shall we?” You ask and he slowly nods glancing over at his brother. You carefully flip over the last card, “This card represents your potential,” your eyes glance down at the justice card. The figure holds a sword and a scale in each hand, sitting on a chair with authority as a scarlet drape is behind them. “Justice. You know what it’s like to be wronged, treated unfairly, you will have to face the truth soon. Whatever that truth is, you have to see everything from each point of view. Going back to the Emperor, you need to be logical and work on that skill in order to find your Justice. You will generate peace and harmony to those who surround you.”
“Wow, thank you, that’s- that’s awesome,” Sam thanks you leaning back in the folded chair carefully eyeing his brother who was staring diligently at the card, studying them and seeming astounded. You lean forward and tap the table under his nose. “I can do a reading for you as well, free of charge. I like your little brother. However, I would like your name.”
The blue eyed brunette looked up at you with wide eyes, filled with wonder and trying to read your own eyes. “Michael. My name is Michael,” you smile at his name and gather the cards back into your pile. You shuffle in the bustling white noise of the  busy boardwalk. A card flies out and lands face down on the table. You shuffle until two more fall from the pile. “Alright Michael, let’s see who the cards say you are.” Your black painted fingers flip over the first card to be greeted by the figure of archangel Michael blowing on his trumpet as the words read ‘judgement’. “You are going through a new journey, a new beginning. You are starting anew. You also find comfort in sharing your struggles with others who relate and you want freedom from your own troubles. Then we have,” You start flipping over the second card, “the ten of swords.” You whisper and you glance up to see his worried eyes look at the pictured body stabbed by ten swords pinned to the ground. “Don’t overthink it.” You whisper ducking your head to make eye contact with him, trying your nest to make him feel safe. “You're going to be betrayed by someone you begin to trust. The pain inflicted runs deep not because what they have done is hurtful, but because you know deep down that this marks the end of your relationship as you know it with them. You will grieve the loss of the relationship. This card is about letting go and accepting your circumstances.” There was silence between the two, you could hear a pin drop if one was to.
“It’s a warning,” you say and clear your throat to ease the tension a bit. You flip over the last card to show the lovers card. “The lovers,” you smile longingly at the card, “you will be ready to establish your own beliefs and follow your heart in the end. You will find love for yourself but love will also find you. In every choice you make on your path, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. I am excited for you to find your other half.” A warm smile comes to your lips but there was wary to the middle card, that card showed the journey he was going to begin was going to something dark. The clapping of a hand on someone’s back causes you to jump out of your trance. “Well gentlemen, I hope you got the answers you two were looking for. Thank you for stopping by, if you have any more questions or any more services, I will be here.”
The two respond with weary smiles and slowly get up from their chairs with soft thanks as they continue to make their way down the boardwalk. A twinkle of a smile was left on your lips as you watched them walk away. 
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Hours later you find yourself with a tip jar that is half full and a bag that contained crumpled bills that were stale and some damp. A sigh leaves your lips as you clean up the station, cleaning up the scrying orb in its case and the tip jar in the bag full of bills. Just before you started to take down your sign you saw four shadows cascade from behind you. A low hum left your lips and you turned on your heel to see four men standing in front of you. Quite young looking, dressed in all black, a couple more than the others. A small smile peaked your lips. “How can I help you gentlemen?” You ask the stoic figures as they stare down at you, purely interested and emitting a strange energy. They’re energy was really strange but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 
“Well we were seeing if it wasn’t too late to get a couple of readings,” the one with the spiked platinum blonde hair responds. His head tilts as he looks into your eyes. For a second you had to look away from the piercing blue eyes because you felt your head go dizzy. 
“Of course, what are you looking for? I do tarot, palms, and even runes.” You inform as your make your way to your side of the booth. Your folding chair creaking as you sit on it, your posture upright and alert. 
“Well, Marko? Which one do you want? You begged to come over here before they closed.” The platinum spoke up again, you tried to get a read on him, by his upright body language he seemed to be the leader of the little posse. Though you were new to the boardwalk you never really saw them around. How did you miss them? Granted you were new to town, but only by a few weeks.
“I’ll go with a palm reading if it means the cutie gets to hold my hand.” The one name Marko pipes with a chuckle from his peers. You can only roll your eyes playfully to play along, “Well sit down, palm readings start at $10 for that comment.” You tease the curly haired man who skipped to your hair and held out his hands with a snicker following. The fingerless gloves covered most of his palm so you nod your head towards his hands, “May I?” You ask before he responds with a nod and cheesy grin. As you started to slip off his hands your eyes peered over his head to watch his friends behind him. You take in their appearances. The platinum blonde was starting to light a cigarette. The other wild haired blonde was walking forward to admire the trinkets on your booth. While the tall brunette was giving you a cold stare as he watched you take off his friends gloves. Each of them donned a single earring and a jacket that was different to their individuality. You clear your throat and look at Marko, “It is nice to meet you Marko. I hope you find this reading useful and beneficial to you for the future.” You start as you take his cool hand into yours. Overlapping his hand with yours you didn’t mind the cold hands, or think much about it, the night was quite chilly.
You roll your shoulders back and roll your neck to relax. As you did a shock was sent through your nerves and you gasped sharply. As did Marko who received the same energy suddenly, causing a pained groan to leave his throat. The energy surges up to your neck causing you to close your eyes tightly. A vision. Pain. Darkness. Betrayal. You can see through Marko’s eyes. He was in pain and bleeding everywhere. There were inhuman screeches all around him; his friends jolted around in him in disturbance and rage. Then you realized they were hanging upside down. Their faces looked like nothing that they did now. Features were contorted, eyes were bloodshot and yellow, and teeth sharp. Just as your vision ended you felt a stabbing in your chest just like the object in Marko’s chest. A pained yell left your throat. There was an echo of Marko yelling out in pain and incoherent yells of the boys behind him. 
You shot Marko away from you with shadows of purple energy following him. The chair shot about six feet from under him and Marko rolled to a stop with the wild blonde following after him in concern. 
“What the hell was that?!” The leader booms rushing to your table, his hands grasping the table with a crushing grip. You could hear it crack as you try to catch your breath. The pain was unbearable. “What the hell are you?!” He interrogates again with a sharp tone. This time he threw the table to the side effortlessly. You gasp and stand in response. Your hands fly up in a contorted shape with purple shadows lingers around your fingers. The leader was stuck in his palace, grunting and struggling against your will. Pants leave your parted lips, brows furrowed and pained as you hold back the leader. Exposing your power.
The three other men kneel around their curly haired friend. Your eyes flicker to them, “There is one thing I can’t stand about vampires,” you croak, holding the leader in his place bringing him as you walk closer to the boys. The look on their faces when you announce your knowledge of their supernatural being, now that look was priceless. “They don’t know how to control their temper.” You choke out as purple energy hazed over your eyes. Their eyes widened at the energy around their leader and the shine from your eyes. All of them scramble to their feet. 
The brunette was first to act and you were faster to stop him mid run. He was now frozen under your spell. Energy outlining his shape as he looked around frantically. You wipe your hand causing him to fly straight through the railing and far out into the ocean with a purple orb pushing straight into his chest. Then with another flick of your wrist the leader went flying right after the brunette with another orb following to make him go further. Your purple eyes scanned towards the two blondes who looked hostile yet intimidated. Before they could even take a step you waved your arms and contorted hands in front of you, to each of their bodies, with a cross of your arms the two slam into one another with a crushing thud. You push the energy out with your arms and hands and the two blondes went flying far out into the ocean following their peers with purple orbs pushing into their chests. 
You were left there on the dark boardwalk, cascaded under orange street lamps, panting with purple shadows flowing around your eyes and glowing in your eyes. Your adrenaline pumping through your veins caused your breathing to become ragged. It took a beat for your breathing to return to normal. You slid your stance back to normal to show your calming nature. Your hands return to your sides no longer casting purple energy and your eyes are their normal color but still widened in fear. Behind you was your booth table broken in half, your items thrown all about wildly from the wind, and your scrying orb shattered near your feet. Dollar bills flying wildly wherever the ocean breeze takes them. 
Taking one last deep breath you tilt your head out towards the crashing onyx waves. The humid breeze thrashing your clothing all about. You press a clammy palm to your forehead as you curse quietly to yourself, “Shit.”
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a/n: this is the first part of a series that i have been writing on and off for the past month. i’ve always wanted to incorporate a witch into the lost boys because it would be so interesting! this will be sort of slow burn poly!the lost boys kind of vibe. please let me know if you’d like more of this series. thank you so much for reading!! 🖤🖤🖤
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petri808 · 3 years
Note
hiii i am absolutely obsessed with ur drabbles could u please do nalu #4 and #39 pls🥺
“Walk out that door and we’re through” + “Please come home, I miss you”
This was tough cause the questions could trigger a story similar to this one I also did for these prompt asks round. But I think I can make it different enough, albeit angst hell 😅 here we go! It’s a little rushed but longer then I expected for a ficlet lol
“Lucy,” Natsu knocked at the office door, “it’s time to go.”
“Where?” She answered without looking up.
“Levy’s birthday party.”
“Oh!” Lucy sat up in her desk chair and turned her body to face her husband. “Right! I forgot. Um, shucks, but I’m on a writing high right now and I can’t stop— tell her I’ll make it up to her, will ya?”
She always says that… Natsu sighed, “yeah, sure…”
Levy Redfox was Lucy’s childhood best friend and while the woman was also his friend, it just didn’t sit well with Natsu that she’d choose writing over the woman. But this had been an ongoing issue lately... Don’t get him wrong, he fully supported his wife’s career as an author, especially now that it’s really starting to take off. The issue was it had consumed her at the expense of everyone around her.
He knocked on their friends door, answered by Levy herself.
“Natsu!” Levy hugged the man excitedly, but when she noticed he was alone, frowned a tad. “Again, huh?”
“I’m sorry, Levy,” Natsu’s shoulders slumped. “Lucy’s in a,” he made quotation marks in the air, “‘writing high,’ and said she’ll make it up to you.”
“Well, I’m glad you came,” the woman smiled despite the sadness hiding behind her eyes.
All of their closest friends were in attendance and spent the evening talking, eating, and playing a few fun birthday games. It distracted him to some extent, but as the night wore down and the other guests had all left, Natsu, his best friend Gray Fullbuster, Levy, and her husband Gajeel sat around in the living room talking about the elephant in the room. Lucy.
“I’ve tried talking to her,” Levy said quietly, “but, I try not to make it sound too harsh.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what you need to do babe,” Gajeel chimed in. “Be blunt.”
“Yeah, I’m like you,” Natsu agreed with Levy. “It’s not easy to bring it up cause she’s oblivious about it.”
“But it’s hurting your marriage man!” Gray looked at Natsu. “And your friendship,” he switched to Levy. “I’m with Gajeel. If you aren’t honest with her, it’s not gonna get better.”
“Think I don’t know that?!” Natsu spat back. “Think I enjoy being the only one in that house in pain?! I don’t, but—” his voice cracked, “I’m worried I’ll push her away if I say something.”
“She’s already pushing you away dude. Do you still love her?”
“Of course, I do,” Natsu sighed. “I love her more than anything, but apparently it’s not enough… we haven’t even… you know, I can’t remember the last time.”
“Wow… Then you really gotta tell her. All of it,” Gray coaxed.
Levy who’d sat quietly through the back and forth, chimed in quietly. “Gray’s right. You should tell her, when you go home, just tell her how you’re feeling. And whatever happens, happens. We can just hope for the best.”
“You know you’ll be the first to hear from her if I do,” Natsu pointed out.
“I know. But… it’s time I come clean too.”
Natsu slumped back onto the couch and let out a depressed exhale. “And you,” he looked to Gray. “You know if it goes wrong I’ll be showing up at your door.”
“My couch has your name on it.”
“Gee, thanks.”
That had to be the longest drive home Natsu had ever taken, even though it was really just 10 minutes. He was a physical person by nature and never been very good at expressing his feelings in words. Words were his wife’s domain. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but his biggest fear was saying things wrong. With his hand on the doorknob, Natsu took one last breath and opened the door to her office. He knew before entering, Lucy was still working by the clacks of the keyboard and interrupting would immediately cause friction. But he couldn’t wait anymore.
“I’m home,” Natsu called out… with no response. He sighed and spoke more sternly. “Lucy. I’m home.”
“Oh, welcome home,” she finally responded. “How was the party?”
He knew it was an empty question, because she never even looked up or stopped typing and it meant she wasn’t really listening. “Lucy… we need to talk.”
“I’m kinda busy Natsu.”
“I know, but you’re always busy Lucy. That’s part of the problem.” The moment the last word came out, Natsu knew instantly he’d picked the wrong one. Crap.
Lucy stopped typing, turned off the screen and shut the laptop. “Problem?” She turned the chair around with her eyes narrowed in a focused glare. “What do you mean, problem?”
“Lucy,” he ran a hand down his face, “I don’t want to fight, but we need to talk— there’s a lot we need to talk about.”
“Like what?” She crossed her arms. “What is so important that you need to mess with my job?”
There it was.
“I’m not trying to do that,” he sighed. “You know how proud I am of your career. But, it feels as if you’re choosing your career over everything else in your life. Me, your friends, we’re all just being pushed aside—”
“Are you kidding me?!” Lucy shot out of her chair shaking in anger. “I am not doing any of that! I’m not pushing anyone away! Y-You’re the one who’s acting selfish trying to tell me I’m not giving you enough attention! And don’t you bring Levy into this! If this was bothering her she’d tell me!”
“It does bother her! But she’s afraid of getting,” he gestured with his hands up and down at Lucy, “this reaction! Is it selfish to want to spend some time with my own wife?!” Natsu growled. “We never spend time together anymore! You’re just always hunched over that damn computer!”
“I’m doing my job!” Lucy shrieked. “I have deadlines to meet! This story ain’t gonna write itself! Research ain’t gonna materialize on its own! It’s a lot of work!”
“Lucy,” Natsu pinched his brows together, trying hard to stop from snapping further as well as to control the tears building in his eyes. “I love you, more than anything in this world, but I don’t know what happened to the woman I’d married. The old Lucy wouldn’t abandon her loved ones like this.”
“You’re just mad because I’m successful now.”
“That’s bullshit! And you know it! No job is worth losing the people you care about, and if you can’t understand that, then, I don’t know what else to say!”
“Then I guess there isn’t anything more to say,” she spat back.
“I guess not.” Natsu answered softly, turned and left the room.
He’d already assumed confronting Lucy about her precious career would not end well, and he was right. Staying would only cause more trouble. So, he quietly packed a suitcase to go to Gray’s house, making sure to bring anything he’d need because he had no idea how long he’d stay there. He’d said his peace; it really was all in Lucy’s hands now.
Back in her office, Lucy dropped back down into her chair as the full weight of what just transpired hit her like a ton of bricks. She cradled her face in her hands as the anger that had fueled her response suddenly mixed with sadness. Tears flowed free. Did that really just happen?! She could hear Natsu moving around in the bedroom, the opening of drawers, the closet, the zipping sound of the suitcase, each and every step driving a knife deeper and deeper. How dare he tell her to stop writing! This was her dream! Her livelihood! Why couldn’t he just support her instead of acting like a child who wasn’t getting attention!
When she heard Natsu walking towards the front door area, Lucy raced out of the room to confront him one last time.
“Walk out that door and we’re through!” She screamed. “Do you hear me? We’re through!”
Natsu ignored her words knowing it was the anger talking… hoping it was just the emotions fueling her rage. “I’ll be at Gray’s,” he simply responded with a hint of sadness in his tone. “You should really think long and hard about this Lucy, because if not, you’ll lose a lot more than you realize.” And with that, he closed the front door behind him.
Lucy crumpled to the ground and wailed— raged, banging the floor with her fists as the sobbing overtook her. She truly could not understand what brought this on. Hadn’t she been a good wife?! Faithful! Hard working! What more did he want?! All she was doing was trying to make it in the cut-throat world of publishing. Does he not understand how hard it is to make it in that world?! She pulled her phone from her pocket and started to dial Levy’s phone number. But just as she got to the last two numbers, she stopped. It was already 1 am, and it would be rude to wake her friend up. Lucy sniffled and hung her head in shame before dragging herself back towards the bedroom. She’ll just call in the morning.
When Levy answered the phone, Lucy was slightly taken aback by the response. Not a hello, just a, ‘I wondered when you’d call.’ Evidently the woman was expecting it, but she was too tired to let it add to her problems. She hadn’t slept much after Natsu left— no surprise. She was still angry, but also confused, sad, and just mentally drained of life. Her friend agreed to come over in a bit, so Lucy dragged herself into the shower hoping it would make her feel better.
“Wow, you don’t look good,” Levy remarked at her friend.
“Hi to you too,” Lucy mumbled as she moved to the side to let her friend in. “Who would after a fight?”
Once settled on the couch, Levy went straight to the point before Lucy could even begin. “I already know what this is about. I know Natsu’s side, so start with yours.”
“Wow— okay, well—” Lucy pulled her legs up and tucked them underneath her body in a protective mode. “He tried to tell me to stop writing and I thought that was bullshit,” she said bluntly.
Levy’s brow raised. “Is that exactly what he said? To stop writing?”
“W-Well no, but that what he implied!”
“What did he say exactly?”
Lucy looked away, a scowl growing on her face and to hide the renewed moisture in her eyes. “He said I’m pushing everyone away.”
“And you don’t agree?”
“No! I’m not choosing my career over everyone! It’s ridiculous to even imply that I would!”
“Lu, do you still love your husband?”
“Of course, I love him!”
“Are you sure he knows you still love him?”
“I—” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and sunk further into the couch mumbling. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t.”
“I can tell you, he doesn’t. Lu, you’ve pushed all of us away.”
“So, you’re taking his side?!”
“No. I’m giving you reality. You’ve been wrapped up in your fictional world so much that you’ve forgotten this one and the real people in it.”
“I—” Lucy turned away to hide the tears slowly starting to trickle down her face. “I never meant to…”
“I know…” Levy placed a hand on her friends leg. “Lu, we all know. He knows, but he’s hurting and it’s in your power to fix this.”
“But how?! I can’t just stop writing. I have deadlines and— you know, its a lot of work to put a story together.”
“You have to find a balance. Right?” Levy coaxed. “You have to take breaks. You have to relax sometimes. Natsu’s not asking you to stop, and he knows there will be times you really can’t stop. But it can’t be all the time, and right now it’s all the time.”
“I know…”
“Girl when was the last time you…” Levy wiggled her brows and grinned. “You know.”
Lucy blushed. “Too long.”
“Well?!” Levy laughed. “Are you finally getting our point?”
“Yeah,” Lucy sighed. “I got tunneled vision.”
Levy leaned in, adding pressured from the hand on Lucy’s leg and a softening in her voice. “And it put your marriage in jeopardy. But it’s not too late to fix it.”
The tears exploded from Lucy. “I told him… when he left, I-I told him don’t come back.” She buried her face in her hands as the sobbing took control. “I-I was screaming at him… so angry, I just lost it and—”
Levy pulled Lucy into a hug. “Shhh,” she held tight. “I’m sure he knew you didn’t mean it. Shh, it’s okay. Sometimes we say things we don’t mean when we’re mad. But you can still get him back, I’m certain of it.”
“H-how?!” Lucy sobbed into Levy’s shoulder. “He’s gotta be so mad at me!”
“Hun, Natsu’s more sad then mad. He needs to feel like you still love him.” Levy pulled away and cupped Lucy’s cheeks, staring, searching the woman’s eyes. “Can you tell him you love him?”
“I can tell him I love him,” Lucy sniffled.
“Then go tell him that!” She hugged her friend. “You’ll be okay Lu, you two are meant to last.”
“Thanks, Levy.”
“He’s at Gray’s right? Want me to drive you?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Levy smiled. “Now clean up a bit, I’ll wait in the car.”
The whole ride over to Gray’s house was the most nerve wracking experience in Lucy’s life. As she sat there huddled in Levy’s passenger seat, all the ways she could ever apologize tried to funnel through her head. She was a writer, and yet for the first time in a long time, all the words dried up or mashed together like a broken verse. Levy did her best to keep Lucy calm, reminding her that it’s all about being honest— just let your heart do the talking for once and not her head.
“You got this,” Levy patted Lucy’s shoulder before she exited the vehicle.
Lucy sure hoped she did. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Seconds ticked by and with each chime, all the weight and worry crept closer to sending her over. He was mad. Too mad. He probably won’t answer…
Finally someone did. “You came?” Natsu’s voice was soft and low, his eyes still bloodshot and worn.
“I came,” Lucy hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry— F-For everything, Natsu please come home, I miss you. I love you more than my job, and I’m gonna make it up to you.”
“You always say that Lucy…”
Ouch. Straight through her heart. The tears broke free again as her knees weakened, causing her to fall against him. Natsu caught her, and she clung to him, gripped to his shirt. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please come home! I love you! Natsu please come home! I can change! I promise I’ll change!”
That’s when she felt his hold truly tighten around her body and his head come to rest against her own. Lucy sobbed harder from the acceptance, pouring her heart in her words. “I love you… I love you so much, I’m so sorry….”
Natsu cradled her head and closed his eyes, voice soft with an upbeat to its tone. “Now there’s the woman I married.”
He held Lucy tightly until her sobbing slowed, eventually pulling away just enough to wipe the tear trails away. “Shall we go home now?”
Lucy nodded. “Please….”
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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years
Note
What abkut mafia!jake au
Stop giving me awesome AU ideas that I cannot write the fic for! 😭
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- due to some really, really bad choices after high school (did he ever make other ones? who knows), Jake Peralta has ended up as a grunt for the Ianucci family. He doesn’t really do much - he’s mostly someone who gathers information and new areas for them to work in, because he’s good at randomly befriending people and milking them for all it’s worth. He’s done a few ‘deliveries’, too, but has never had to really get physical.
- (he was at one family meeting that turned into the ‘farewell’ of a mistrusted member and he still has nightmares about it)
- he’s never been arrested for anything and thought the police didn’t even know his name, so imagine his surprise when he’s approached by one of their higher-ups (as if he knows the rankings, psh, pigs are all the same) and subtly but definitely asked if he would be willing to work with them
- his task seems simple: bring one of their cops into the family undercover, the same way he has ‘recruited’ several bodega owners and other ‘low-skill’ workers that turned out to be useful for the family. Maybe keep an eye on the cop as well and help her out if she’s struggling
- she? oh yeah, it’s a woman. A frankly gorgeous woman, he realises when they meet up with her and some FBI dude who obviously pretends he’s not FBI, to discuss it all further. Her name is ‘Dora’, and he knows that’s a lie from the second she’s introduced, but the less he knows, probably the better. The rules are set, he gets a special cellphone number of a ‘cousin’ to contact if something goes wrong, and two weeks later Dora Perez is steadily working her way up the ranks with the Ianuccis, who are very proud of Jake for bringing in this brilliant new talent.
- He might or might not be looking out for her a little bit too much. He might or might not get involved in far more shady dealings with the Iannuccis so he can work closer with her. He might or might not be in deep, deep shit.
- ‘Dora’ is grateful for it, though, he learns every time he drives her home after a more difficult job. She used to be withdrawn and quiet with him, which he tried to equalise by cracking more and more stupid jokes and doing random silly stuff during their drives, but then one time they drive in absolute silence while she cleans blood of her hands, and he says something, he doesn’t remember what, but it’s the right thing apparently, because she starts to talk. She talks to him during every ride after, telling him about the stress and the constant guard she has to keep up and how none of her research binders prepared her for this, and at some point she tells him about nightmares and seeing death around every corner and she can’t wait for this mission to be over.
- (for her sake, he can’t wait for that either. For his sake, he wishes it would go on forever.)
- They’re sent out for a big job together once, because Jake has already become ‘connected’ to Amy in the Ianuccis’ eyes, and they both end up with blood on their hands, and some of it is hers.
- he gets out of the car after that drive home, and gets up to her tiny, fake apartment, and helps her clean the wounds (nothing too big, just cuts, because thank god that guy only had a knife before he beat it out of his hands and then beat the living daylight out of him after he injured her) with the softest fingers she’s ever felt. Then the cleaning alcohol is swapped for drinkable stuff, and they talk, and they talk about everything and nothing, about how a dead-beat dad and an absent mother make a Mafia goon, and how family pressure and a sense of constant duty make a detective who so badly wanted to say no to this assignment but couldn’t.
- “For what it’s worth, Dora, I’m glad you said yes. I mean, not that- not that I want you to do this kind of work- and I want things to be over for you soon, because- but- I’m glad it’s you.” “Amy.” “Hm?” “My name is Amy. Amy Santiago.”
- He wakes up in her bed the next morning, with her in his arms, and he kind of doesn’t regret a single thing, even as his smart-brain is screaming at him. He’s pretty sure he would’ve willingly died for her even before this night, but now, he realises... that he probably will.
- Amy (Amy, not Dora) does freak out a little more than he does when she wakes up. She can’t get involved, she says, this is a job, a dangerous one, and she has to focus on that job and getting the mafia gang and not- okay, okay, let’s not overthink this then, Jake says only to calm her down, we don’t do anything ‘involved’, we’re just... having fun. Keeping things light and breezy. Helping deal with the stress.
- and so, despite how much it hurts and how much it makes him happy at the same time, Jakey the Jew becomes Jakey, Dora’s Loverboy. It helps, he supposes, because it means the Ianuccis won’t suspect them hanging out so much, and send him along to most of her jobs now so he can watch out for her, and he gets to be with her in a way, even as she constantly reiterates ‘light and breezy’ to keep him at a distance no matter how close they get.
- it doesn’t feel very ‘light and breezy’ when they spend time together in front of the TV, though, to get their minds to relax after doing whatever the Ianuccis needed them doing. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ when they joke around in the bodega getting ice cream on a particularly hot day out doing jobs, or when she shows him around the library after meeting her ‘cousin’ there for a chat. It doesn’t feel ‘light and breezy’ at all when she sighs into his arms when he’s holding her in bed, neither of them even wanting to take the night any further than soft hands under tshirts, because all they really need at some point is the comfort of each other.
- and then one day, after a few months of this ‘light and breezy’ and ‘Dora’s Loverboy’, Jake gets invited for a ‘Talk’ by the family. With a capital T. And he’s not been that high up in the ranks at any point, and he’s not really done much for the family, but he’s not an idiot. He knows what that means. So of course he doesn’t tell Amy, writes her a short but succinct note instead that maybe ends with the L-word somewhere in it, and goes to have a Talk.
- The Ianuccis know that there is a rat, but they don’t know who. And they know that if Jakey is good for one thing, it’s information. So The Talk doesn’t end as quickly as it usually does, and the way he’d expected. It hurts a lot more, for one thing. Jake thinks of offering up some other goon or lower family member as the rat, if only to make the torture stop, but his brain is too broken in the moment to figure out a convincing story. And when the name ‘Perez’ suddenly drops into the conversation, there’s really only one other name he can still think of clearly to blame. Peralta.
- he doesn’t remember much after that - he’s pretty sure he heard gunshots, but none of them hit him, so what’s the deal with that? Everything else is pretty much a blur of pain and cold, and lots of shouting, and then warm soft hands on his face and a quiet voice saying his name amidst it all, and when he wakes up the next time he’s in a hospital bed.
- He’s in that hospital bed for two weeks to recover, and no one visits him. Not that it should be surprising - Nana is dead, his mom doesn’t know about anything he’s done since the age of 18 for a reason, and there’s no one else who in their right mind should care to visit him. So imagine his surprise when a detective shows up, introduces herself as Rosa Diaz, and explains that she’s Amy’s partner at work, but she’s not here for official business.
- “She wanted to come see you. Hell, she fought tooth and nail for it. But she had to be debriefed, stupid FBI assholes, and then it turned out two of the Ianuccis got away, so we had to find them first to make sure they don’t go after her for revenge” (well that explains the constant patrols in the hospital for him, as well) “and we had to hide her for her safety, but, Jake, she wanted to come see you. I swear.” “It’s okay.” Jake says, and it’s really not, but he’s been a brilliant liar for years now. “You can tell her... it’s okay. The job is done, and I’m, I’m glad she’s finally got it over and past her. Really. Tell her it’s okay.”
- He’s debriefed by the FBI after he gets discharged, as well. They tell him ‘good job’ and ‘thanks’ and pay him a surprisingly large amount of money and cover his hospital bills, so that’s good. They also advise that he move, not far, but far enough that any possible leftover scragglers of the family don’t remember his old place for a ‘visit’. So he moves, a few blocks only, enough to get a new favourite bodega and deli and discover that the library is actually nearby and that there’s this community college that Amy kept talking about for some reason, and if he takes a few classes to finally get a degree, it’s not about getting a proper job at some point, it’s more about not thinking about anything else. About maybe forgetting, even if it was her that basically got him where he is now.
- (it does not work)
- she knocks on his door a month later. She looks strange in her professional outfit instead of washed out jeans and a tanktop with a stupid slogan on it, but also so perfectly her. That’s Amy, he thinks, not Dora anymore. That’s Amy, and he still loves her just as much as he did when she was ‘Dora’ in his sweatpants and tshirt. Maybe more.
- “You’re a hard man to find, Peralta.” She says, and he knows that’s a lie, but she smiles with a scared look through it and he takes it for what it is - an attempt at saying anything, really, after 1 1/2 months of silence, when she’s probably got a speech all prepared in her head but needs to get there first. “That’s such a bad, cheesy movie line.” He helps, and she laughs and yeah, that’s all he needs in life. “Well we never watched any good movies, did we.” “Hey, we watched Die Hard. That’s the best movie there is.” She rolls her eyes but nods, and opens her mouth, and Jake thinks that the speech is coming now, but he has no idea what it might entail. Thank you and good bye, maybe. Good job, great work, can you sign this official statement for me so I can add it to my paperwork? possibly. “Screw light and breezy.” She says instead, and then she’s in his new apartment, which is much nicer and cleaner than the old place was even after she worked her magic on it, and she’s kissing him, and he’s never, ever letting her out.
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Text
Dad’s Best Friend
Summary: Your Dad’s Best Friend, Lee Bodecker, is a close family friend who helps and protects you at all costs. But all he is is a family friend, right?
Warnings: Mentions of a Peeping Tom, Smut, Daddy Kink, choking, perverted comments, maybe slight dub-con?
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing on tumblr, so I hope you enjoy! This story is also on my ao3, but I saw how much love Lee was getting on tumblr, so I decided to make a blog for fan fictions. Please be gentle with criticism, this is my first time writing smut. However, don’t be afraid to voice your opinion! This is a modern day AU. Lee is soft in this one, there are no dark elements. If you squint maybe it’s dub-con, but I don’t see it that way. However, I added it to the warnings just in case. If there are any more warnings I need to add just let me know and I happily will. This is a learning experience for me! If this receives enough love, I left it open for it to make it a mini-series, or maybe do more drabbles about it. I hope you enjoy!
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(Not my gif)
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You moved to Knockemstiff when you were 6 years old. Your mother, a local politician, got hired in the little town of Ohio 15 years ago. She began working as a town council member, eventually working her way up to being the mayor.
Being the mayor’s daughter had some perks. You always got complimentary food at the local diners. The business owners wanted to get in good with your mother, for whatever reason. You weren’t sure what your mother had to offer that could help them, but food is food and free pancakes are free pancakes. You never really understood politics yourself. You understood federal level and a little bit of state, but local politics (although some claim it to be the most important) bored the shit out of you.
You even knew the town police. You grew close to Deputy Howser. He was a little older than you, but you got along well and frequented drinking together on the weekends with some of your other friends. Your father, however, got close with the Sheriff. Your father was a stay-at-home dad, your mother bringing in all the money you could ever need. They both didn’t mind, and it was easier growing up to have at least one parent at home. Although Sheriff Bodecker didn’t think being a stay-at-home dad exuded masculinity, he was still your fathers’ friend, nonetheless. They bonded over shitty beer, sports, and candy.
The Sheriff, although you didn’t hang out with him, was another authority figure in your life that you always had to worry about. You couldn’t go out with friends. You knew this because of one mishap you had with your friends. Everyone was home from college, meaning there would be a huge party. You and your friend, Jenny, we’re only 20 at the time. You went, got extremely drunk, and the cops were called.
Of course, you had to be laying on the couch, shirt off, when Sheriff Bodecker arrived. He picked you up by your waist, bring your limp frame against his sturdy body.
“Do I need to tell your father about this darlin’?”
You whined against his chest
“Nooooo, don’t tell my daaaddddyyy”
His cock swelled at the word.
Daddy
He didn’t understand why and just tried to push it deep down.
“Well, doll, I think I can keep this secret for you. Just this once though. If I see you in this state again before you turn 21, I’m going to have to take you in. I can’t show favorites in this town.”
You looked up and smiled at him groggily
“But aren’t I your favorite, Sheriff?”
This wasn’t the only instance in when you ran into the trouble with the Sheriff. You also had a habit of smoking, and more frequently, eating illegal substances.
“Hey darlin’, you’re looking a little tired today,” he said entering your kitchen, “do you need to take a nap or somethin’?”
You reacted slow.
You looked up to him with half-open eyes.
“.....what?”
He knew. He knew from the moment you looked at you.
He just smiled. He wouldn’t snitch as long you were safe. You were in your house, and he and your father were there to protect you if anything happened.
“Go take a nap sweetheart. I’ll go get you when the takeout gets here.”
You smiled and nodded. Before going upstairs, you leaned in to give him a hug.
You whispered, “Thanks Lee.”
______________________________________
Deputy Howser walked into your place of work, a retail store.
You spotted him from the back, where you were steaming shirts to put out on the rack.
“Hey!” you shouted at him from across the store.
“Hey!” He stated walking towards you, “You gonna be home tonight?”
“I suppose I should be, why?”
“Well, I might advise against it” he said worried.
“And why is that?”
“Well... as you know it’s poker night, and all the guys from the station are gonna be coming over to your house to play.”
“Yes, I do know this, and what about it?”
“Well, I just, I know how some of the guys down at the station can get when they start drinking, and I’m not so sure I would want you in that environment.”
“I have to ask again, why is that?”
“It’s just... it’s just that you’re a young woman, a beautiful one at that, and they might make certain comments that would make you feel uncomfortable.”
You scoffed. “I think I’ll be fine David. I can hold my own yknow.”
“I know, I know. I just, I don’t wanna see you get hurt or see you uncomfortable.”
“I promise, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you when I get off work, okay?”
“Okay.” He said with slight hesitation. “See ya then.”
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You walked through your front door, yelling to your father that you were home.
“Dad! I’m home! Sorry, I got out a little bit late tonight.”
“Hey sweetheart, I’m in the dining room with the guys. Come say hi.”
You began to walk back to the dining room to say hello.
You immediately regretted it.
“Hey baby, come here often?” One of them joked.
“You wanna come sit down sweetheart? You look like you’ve had a long day. I gotta spot waiting for ya” another stated, patting his lap.
You awkwardly smiled and waved at them. Your father, David, and Lee all had angry expressions plastered on their face. They didn’t say anything as to not upset the men. They needed almost every single one for a successful poker night. It was just easier to not start anything.
“It’s nice seeing you all” you said through gritted teeth, not meaning a single word.
“I’m gonna go upstairs now, and if you gentleman would stick to the downstairs bathroom that would be great.”
You needed to take a shower, but you weren’t going to announce that to a room full of drunken men, who were obviously having too much fun as it was.
You turned on your heel and scurried up the steps. You ran into the bathroom immediately, locking the door behind you.
God, I hate poker nights.
You stared at yourself in the mirror before stepping into the shower. You didn’t even understand why they were hitting on you so much. In your eyes, at least, there wasn’t much to look at, or even desire. You were insecure but tried not to show it. There were good days, and bad days. Today just happened to be a bad day.
You poked and prodded your every insecurity, hoping that this would remedy the issues and make them disappear.
It wasn’t successful.
You finally decided to get undressed and get in the shower. Your turned both nozzles on, waiting for the water to get warm. Once it was a comfortable temperature you stepped in the shower, letting your mind wander.
You never knew why, but your mind always wanted to think about the sheriff. His muscular figure, with his big belly to give him some cushion so he was soft enough to lay on. His cute nose. And his uniform. He looked so stern and yet soft at the same time. Ready to kick someone’s ass but also ready to protect you when he needed to.
You were pulled from your thoughts as you heard a slight chuckle coming from the doorway. You pulled back the curtain to reveal the door was cracked. No one was there, but you could’ve sworn you shut and locked it upon entering just moments ago. You were leery but decided to let it go. You continued to wash your body and your hair. You heard the chuckle again. You didn’t hesitate this time, pulling back the curtain as fast as you could, but still covering your body.
You made direct eye contact with another man from the office. You couldn’t think of his name in that exact moment, being too mortified to even let your thoughts process what was going on.
You screamed. You screamed as loud as you could prompting Officer Dowd to begin sprinting down the stairs. Fortunately, your father and Lee were up in a flash hearing you scream. He was caught.
Lee shoved Officer Dowd against the wall as you wrapped yourself in a towel and made it halfway down the steps.
“Looks like we got a peepin’ Tom. You like looking at girls in the shower huh? You like it when you get to stare at them with their clothes off?”
He didn’t let Officer Dowd answer the question. Lee gave him a swift punch to the face before another breath escaped his body.
Officer Dowd landed on the ground with a thud. Lee got on the ground and spoke to him lightly.
“Now let that be a warnin’. If I catch you anywhere near Y/N again, I’ll put you in the damn ICU. And that is a promise you bet I’m keeping. I know we’re playin’ poker, but I ain’t bluffin’.”
Lee stood up abruptly and say your father holding you as you sobbed into his chest.
He hated to see you cry.
Lee remembered the first time he ever saw you extremely distraught. Some local high school boys were making fun of how you looked. He knew that sort of stuff normally didn’t bother you, but he could tell what they said was more than a few insults.
You came through the door absolutely sobbing. Lee happened to be over at the time, concerned something worse may have happened to you. You explained some stupid high school boys were just harassing you and you shouldn’t be as upset as you were. He held you for two hours that day trying to get you to calm down. He had never felt a pit in his stomach like that before in his life.
He loathed that people made you feel this way.
Your father finally spoke “I think it’s safe to say poker night is over. If you have any issues, I’m sure Bodecker would love to speak to you right now.”
______________________________________
As the men cleared out, Deputy Howser and Lee stayed to make sure you were okay.
They waited until your father calmed you down.
Deputy Howser came in first. He totally wanted to say “I told you so” but he didn’t. Thank god. You think you might have punched him if he did. Instead, he just told you how his wife would bake you your favorite cookies tomorrow and he would bring them over after work. You thanked him, finally leaving. To be honest, you just wanted to be alone.
That was, until you saw Lee come into your room to check on you. You didn’t even know he was still here. You knew he cares about you, but not to this extent. Deputy Howser was your best friend, and obviously your dad cares, but Lee was only a family friend. You saw him all the time, but this was different.
“Hey darlin’, how ya feelin’?”
You smirked “How would you feel if you caught a grown man trying to spy on you while you were taking a shower?”
He smiled back “Fair ‘nough”
He closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed next to you.
It was silent for a moment. You appreciated it, but it was still awkward. You decided to be bold.
“How come you stuck around to check on me?”
Lee was taken aback by this question. He just punched a man for you, why would he not stay to check snd make sure you were doing okay?
“Sweetheart, I just socked the man who was tryin’ to do you harm. Why wouldn’t I stick around to make sure you were okay?”
You thought for a moment.
“I just didn’t think you cared about me that much.”
Again, Lee was shocked. How could you be saying this?
“Y/N, if I didn’t care about ya, your dad would’ve known about all your shenanigans a long time ago. Course I care about ya. You mean a lot to me.”
Your stomach started to turn. Not in a queasy way, but more nervous. You didn’t know why.
“Lee?”
“Yes darlin’?”
“Would you, would you mind if you gave me a hug before you left? I just, I need to be held right now.”
He sat there and thought for a moment. About what, you don’t know, but he finally nodded and opened his arms. You took it upon yourself to sit in his lap while he wrapped his arms around you.
You could hear his heartbeat and breathing. It was soothing. You needed that after the day you had.
Something in the air felt off though. You weren’t sure what, but you knew it felt different.
You looked to Lee for a response but all he had to offer was a soft smile. Your faces were dangerously close to one another. He caressed your hair, lovingly while you continued to stare into each other’s eyes.
You decided to be bold.
You leaned in quickly for a kiss.
At first, Lee resisted, confused as to what was going on, but eventually gave into your soft lips.
You held them there for a moment, enjoying the touch. You began to deepen the kiss as time went on, sucking on his lower lip while he sucked on your upper lip. You stayed that way for what felt like an eternity. Lee began to dip his tongue into your mouth. You accepted it and continued like this for even longer. The passion in the way he was kissing and holding you was unreal. Unlike your ex-boyfriend Lance, he seemed to care that you were enjoying it too.
You finally pulled apart and made eye contact.
He smirked.
“This isn’t what I thought was gonna happen when you said you needed to be held.”
You smiled back
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
You went in for another kiss, but Lee quickly spun you around and pinned you to the bed.
“I know ya got a mouth on ya doll, but I call the shots. Talk like that again and I’ll have to spank your ass.”
“Yes, Sheriff.” You said coyly.
“Although I love you calling me Sheriff, you’ll address me as daddy.”
Your pussy throbbed at the sound of calling him that.
“Yes, daddy.”
He smiled.
“How bout we get these clothes off?”
You nodded eagerly. He ripped off your clothes in a flash, with no time to waste. He had already been in your room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Your father might come in at any moment.
“Can I touch this pretty pussy, babydoll?” He stated, hovering over your mound.
You nodded again, almost breathless at the thought of him touching you.
He slowly entered you with two fingers. A soft moan escaped your lips, grabbing onto his other arm that was propping him up.
“Fuck, you’re so tight darlin’, can’t wait to put my cock in you.”
He pumped in and out of you at a slow pace. He didn’t know how much experience you had, trying to be as gentle as possible.”
“Daddy go faster.”
“Daddy go faster, what?”
You rolled your eyes.
“Daddy go faster, please.”
He grabbed the sides of your throat lightly to assert dominance. You assume it was because you rolled your eyes. Damn your attitude sometimes.
“Now, we don’t roll our eyes at our daddy, do we?”
“No, I promise I won’t do it again daddy. Please go faster.”
He obliged and starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. A louder moan escaped your lips again, this time Lee shot his hand up to cover your mouth.
“Shhh, we have to be quiet darlin’. Wouldn’t want your old man to find out what we were doin’. I don’t see it endin’ well for either of us.”
You nodded as you rode his fingers. Your walls fluttered around his fingers. You felt the right coil in your stomach, preparing yourself for an orgasm.
Just as you felt the wave of pleasure coming, Lee pulled his fingers out of you.
You looked up in confusion, only to see Lee with his pants pulled down and holding his cock.
Wow.
He was huge.
He began stroking it.
“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered into your ear softly.
You nodded again, just wanting to get back to the wave of pleasure you were about to experience.
“I don’t usually get to it this fast but considerin’ the circumstances I don’t wanna get caught.”
He began to press his head into you. He could feel you squeeze around him, driving him absolutely insane.
“Goddamn darlin’, I ain’t gonna last long if you’re this tight.”
You smiled, glad to make him feel good.
He leaned down to kiss you as he slowly started to pump in and out of you.
You moaned against his lips, unable to keep yourself from being quiet. His lips thankfully muffled your moans. He continued to pump in and out “fuck baby, tell me how bad you want it.”
You whispered against him “I want it so bad daddy, please go faster. Fuck me as hard as you can.”
Lee couldn’t control himself. He picked up his pace and began pounding into you, careful not to make too much noise with the bed frame.
“Oh fuck, daddy, oh god don’t stop.”
“You like this baby? Huh? You like how your daddy pounds your pussy?”
You nodded, almost completely incoherent and responded with a soft “yes daddy, god yes.”
The coil in your stomach came back, making you arch your back, also allowing Lee to fuck you deeper.
Lee began speaking again “Who’s pussy does this belong to?”
“It belongs to you daddy!”
“Keep sayin’ it, keep telling’ me who owns this pussy”
“You daddy, oh god it belongs to you!”
The wave of pleasure began to wash over you as you climaxed.
“That’s it baby, cum all over my cock, fuck yeah just like that” Lee whispered back.
Lee could tell you were about to moan, so he covered your mouth just in time for you to cum. Only seconds later did Lee let out a similar moan, muffled by his head being buried in your hair. He pulled out of you abruptly and began stroking his cock. He came all over your stomach and tits, making a mess of your body. He quickly got up and put his clothes on, also grabbing tissues to wipe off your body.
You laid on the bed, left breathless of what transpired.
Lee laid down next to you, only for a little bit. He didn’t want to fuck you and leave. He was better than that. Well, at least he thought he was. Other women might not agree.
You slid over to lay on his chest, still completely undressed.
You laid like this for a little while before looking to Lee.
“Lee?”
“What sweetheart?”
“Can we add this to the list of ‘shenanigans’ you won’t be telling my father?”
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